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Archives / 2011 / September
  • Kids and worship

    Every weekday morning, before beginning any other school, I gather my children on the living room couch for family worship time.  Of all our daily activities, this one seems the most doomed for disaster from the start.  But, stubborn woman that I am, I persist.  Not being particularly musical, I cue up several youtube videos with lyrics for us to sing along with.  We read the Bible, each person prays,we do some Bible memory and occasionally act out Bible stories.  It should be so simple.

    Alas! It's difficult to read the Bible when someone is flipping the lights on and off so quickly that you feel you're at a 70's disco.  It's hard to feel close to God when one son is praying, "Lord help (my brother) to stop kicking me so that I don't have to punch him," and another chimes in with, "Help (my brother) to get his finger out of his nose."

    Then, the videos: "Wait this isn't the right one!  I want the one that shows the goat standing on a mountain!" "Ha, ha, that  guy has a funny beard!" "Click like!" Click dislike!" "Add to favorites!" "Ooh, this one has 2 million views!" All the while, I'm trying to model the desired pious behavior, an effort I inevitably botch by declaring, rather …

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  • Yet Another Day

    [caption id="attachment_94" align="alignleft" width="300" caption="I love the kid, but it's amazing every hair on my head isn't gray"][/caption]

    “Mommy, Mommy, look at me!”  I toss a sad looking tomato to Tillie, one our chickens, and look around for the source of the excited voice.

    “Up here!” I look up, then up some more to find my youngest son a good thirty feet up a gnarly old oak tree.  I encourage him firmly to carefully climb down.

    Soon after, I glance out the back window to see him swinging from some sort of vine hanging from the same tree.  As I watch, the vine breaks and he falls, lying motionless on his side for several very long seconds, before popping up again and running off to the next adventure, even as he rubs the sore spots from this one.

    I sigh with relief and am reminded just how much I love him, then breathe a prayer of thanks that he’s made it through yet another day, asking, even in my thanks, for God’s grace in getting this child safely through to adulthood.

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