The Maple Tree

In our back yard stands a maple tree.
I envy the maple tree (is it weird to envy a tree?).

She weathers everything so well – the sunshine, the rain, the heat… Her branches spread out and provide shelter and shade for many little creatures and plants (including my children). She is rooted solidly and shows off the natural beauty that God planned for her in each season.

I am no maple tree.

I run around trying to make my day – my life – fit into my plan. I “gallop”, as it were, first one way and then the other, tending to my existence as if I have any control over it all. I fuss over my appearance, cry over my struggles, and find myself struggling to stand upright under the pressures that I put on myself.

Then I look out my window. And there she is, just as serene as she was yesterday.

Just the way God planned for her to be.

I sit down and watch her as the breeze wafts through her leaves, currently green with summer foliage. My pint-sized humans play in her shade, birds sing in her branches, and the clouds roll quietly overhead.

“Consider how the wild flowers grow. They do not labor or spin. Yet I tell you, not even Solomon in all his splendor was dressed like one of these. If that is how God clothes the grass of the field, which is here today, and tomorrow is thrown into the fire, how much more will he clothe you—you of little faith! And do not set your heart on what you will eat or drink; do not worry about it. For the pagan world runs after all such things, and your Father knows that you need them. But seek his kingdom, and these things will be given to you as well.

Do not be afraid, little flock, for your Father has been pleased to give you the kingdom. Sell your possessions and give to the poor. Provide purses for yourselves that will not wear out, a treasure in heaven that will never fail, where no thief comes near and no moth destroys. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Luke 12:27-34, NIV)

I remind myself to take a deep breath…to gather into my spirit the peace that is so freely offered by a generous God.

May I be like the maple tree…like the lily. Content to fulfill the tasks that God asks of me each day, without worry for the tasks of tomorrow. May I set my roots firmly in Truth and allow Him to guide my hands in good works. May others find in me a source of rest and encouragement for their own tasks. And may I learn how to live contentedly through each season of life.

Off To The Races

I’m never quite sure how to start these things, so I’m just going to start with today. Right now.

Our first day of the 2014-2015 school year.

For those of you that don’t already know, we homeschool. It is a personal passion and a life that my husband and I feel called – and blessed – to live. But…it doesn’t always go according to plan (read: almost never).

I love to organize. I have binders and page protectors and binder clips and sticky notes and a cranky hole punch and highlighters and folders and bins and lots and LOTS of paper clips.
I had it all together last night. Promise. The binders were complete, the lesson plans (with built-in flexibility!) were written, the books carefully chosen for their quality, and then beautifully cataloged and sorted by subject.

And then today arrived.

At 2am, to be precise.

Up with the Half-Pint Engineer at 2am.
Up with the Little Miss at 3am. (I don’t know how she does it, but this is the only time ever that she is COMPLETELY silent, and then she whacks me on the back with her stuffed toy. It’s genuinely creepy. I jump every single time.)
The Captain gets up with the Half-Pint for some random throwing up at 4am. (No worries – he’s completely fine today.)
Both kids are up at 5am. FOR THE DAY.
Devotions, math, and piano are all relatively on time, but for some reason after that, everything kind of went down hill.

Mommy has to take a phone call (doctor = important) right in the middle of handwriting. I come back to find that SOMEONE let the dog out of her crate. Hmmm….scoldings commence. (I’m sure I’ll be fine with this eventually, but this is only the dog’s third day in our house, and we are all still getting used to each other, which means that she is currently a huge distraction.) But…what kind of Mommy would I be if I put her right back in the crate when she JUST got out…right? So I left her out.

Five minutes later, we pause handwriting AGAIN because the dog just pranced into the kitchen with one of the Little Miss’ favorite toys…hanging out of her mouth by one conspicuously chewed up eyeball.
I see my son’s eyes fill with tears. Oh no.

I nearly break a limb in my leap to get to him and (gently) clap a hand over his mouth. “Do. Not.” I warn him. “If you fuss, your sister will lose her mind.”

Too late.
Thus, amid wails about plastic eyeballs, I remove the damaged toy from the jaws of The Hound, who looks at me pathetically (“not mine?”), and replace it with one of her own toys. I calmly soothe my daughter with promises to clean up the toy as best we can.

Back to lessons. We finish handwriting, have a snack, do some outside play, and then settle back down for reading time. No sooner do we finish the Tale of Peter Rabbit than the hound once again comes prancing into the room proudly displaying more contraband. This time, it is some very (very.) gross trash from the kids’ bathroom.

The hound goes back in her crate.

At this point, we are horribly behind schedule, which isn’t a huge deal…but it is our FIRST DAY.
We try doing a craft. I had planned to make a construction paper “garland” crown to go with our verse of the week (Proverbs 1:8-9), except I underestimated how many loops we would need. We ended up about 3 loops short of a crown.

That’s ok, that’s ok! There’s nothing wrong with manly construction paper bracelets. (Make lemonade, right…?)

Lunch. Errands – one specifically to pick up some more toys to satisfy The Hound. (Mommy also treated herself to a “therapeutic” latte.) In the midst of these errands, I find that the Half-Pint Engineer has commandeered Mommy’s phone and is texting Daddy…and I quote “Dady we startid with a bad day today.!” When I ask him why his day was bad, he tells me it is because I yelled at him. *sigh*

Now home again. The kids are doing quiet time (praise Jesus for quiet time, am I right???) while Mommy types out her day and drinks the last dredges of her latte and decides she is going to  laugh.

So, how was your day? Was it everything you hoped it would be?