Theology for Your Progeny

The kids and I are studying the theory of evolution this week in science. We spent some time discussing what a theory is, why some people believe in evolution and some people don't, where science leaves off and speculation begins. You know, easy concepts that most six to eight year olds can grasp without any trouble.

Anyway, through the course of our discussion, I explained (once again) what the Man and I believe. The kids have heard the gospel more times than I can count. Sometimes daily. But each time the Man and I are careful to explain that our beliefs don't carry over onto them. As I said today, "Your dad and I want to share about Jesus with you because we love him and because that's what we believe to be true, but you have to make up your mind for yourself. And we're not going to shove Christianity down your throat." Because that just doesn't work very well (note multiple historical examples--I picked the Crusades).

I share this because we recognize that there is a fine line between sharing our love for Jesus and the truth of the gospel with our children and refraining from beating them over the head with our Bibles. With that said, I wanted to give you a few resources that do a good job of presenting Christ to our kids. Please note that The Jesus Storybook Bible (still the twins' favorite) isn't on the list simply because I already wrote about it on here several years ago and because it's been getting a lot of attention lately (I had a friend receive three copies when she had her first son last year).

First on the list is one that I've only read snippets of but has come highly recommended by many friends, The Big Picture Story Bible by David R. Helm. I heard it described as a step before The Jesus Storybook Bible, if you have slightly younger kids who can't hang in there for all of Sally Lloyd-Jones' poetic language. The pictures are on more of the cartoony side and there's less type per page, but it shows the whole arch of the gospel from Creation to Christ in easy to understand terms.

Then if you want to take a step back even farther, there's the board book The Biggest Story ABC by Kevin DeYoung. The illustrations are beautiful, and it does well for your littles who just can't sit still for very long. I liked that it didn't dumb down the theology even though it was written for smaller children, but it gives just enough to introduce the big ideas of Christianity to a young kid.

Once your children are getting older (and tired of being subjected to The Jesus Storybook Bible every night by their routine loving little brother), you might want to give The Ology: Ancient Truths, Ever New by Marty Machowski a try. My mom gifted me this one for my birthday this year, and it's really a beautiful book. Andy McGuire's illustrations are a perfect companion to the systematic breakdown of theology through story and instruction. I also appreciated the inclusion of more scripture (because we don't want to just read storybook Bibles to our kids...we actually want to read them the Bible).

The Man and I have also started working through a few catechism questions with the kids a night, just so they understand what we believe and why. I had a friend suggest My 1st Book of Questions and Answers, and it has been a perfect fit for even the twins. It gives verses that inform each of the answers as well, which has been really helpful.

The Man's parents gifted the kids Trillia Newbell's God's Very Good Idea (with super fun illustrations by Catalina Echeverri) for Christmas this year. I loved this unique way of presenting the gospel that included snippets of history, a lot of diversity, an excellent explanation of sin (that went past "stop doing bad things--shame on you!"), and a beautiful introduction to Jesus' love, forgiveness, and plan for all of us.

I included this picture just in case we were all taking ourselves a little too seriously.

Finally, at Christmas, my sister sent us Everyone A Child Should Know by Clare Heath-Whyte. It took me until late January before I managed to pry it out of Tiny's grasp (he likes to hoard books under his bed), but now it's one of the kids' favorite parts of family devotions. Each spread shares a brief story of a Christian who influenced history (think: Rosa Parks, Augustine, Eric Liddell). Honestly, I wish this book were longer, mostly because my only complaint is that they could have included more examples from non-white believers--of which there are so many. Still, I love that the kids are a) learning history and b) learning about heroes of the faith and c) seeing what the Christian faith should actually look like when it's worked out in the day to day. Side note, Bruiser told me today that his heroes are God...and the Flash, so I think we're going to keep reading this book and hope that one day he will include Hudson Taylor or George Müller.

These are just a few examples of tools you can use with your children, but they will never be a substitute for reading the Bible with your kids and, possibly more importantly, them actually seeing you walk with Christ day to day. My hope is that I can enjoy Christ with my children, learn alongside them, and one day joyously see them walk closely with him.

Saturday Prayers

In children's church this week, we talked about some of the miracles Jesus performed in the book of Matthew, and then the kids worked to memorize Matt 9:36, which says that when Jesus looked at the crowd "He had compassion on them." My initial reaction was to remember the many times my heart hadn't been filled with compassion towards the suffering, the many times my heart hadn't even been filled with compassion for my own children. I prayed immediately that Jesus would help me be more like him, that he would take my old heart and give me a new one full of love. But I admit, I felt guilty about the many times I don't treat others with compassion, the many times my selfishness or impatience wins out.

This kid doesn't require much work to love.
Except for when she poop bombs nap time.

Then I remembered that when Jesus looks at me, he has compassion for me too. He looks at me and he loves me. Sure, he's fully aware of the times I lost my temper and yelled at my kids, but he still loves me. He is full of compassion for me and longs to heal me of the sickness of my heart that twists who he originally intended me to be into something ugly. He does not look at me in disbelief, frustrated that I am screwing up yet again. He does not look at me in impatience, astounded that I yet again need his help and forgiveness. He does not look at me as a problem to be solved, something broken that needs fixing, or a minor inconvenience to his day. He looks at me as his dear child, who was worth the payment of his life.

Watching the Hot Cross Buns bake.
They look so calm.

It's an illusion.

I write this after a long week with the kids. The Man was gone on a work trip, and I was not at my best. Every day was a struggle to present my children with the mother they needed, the one I wanted to give them. And many days I felt that I failed. It was hard to hear at the back of my mind, over and over again, that Christ was looking at me with compassion. I didn't want compassion--I wanted my kids to get a break from me. I wanted a break from them! But instead of a break, I was given Christ. He gives us himself so that we can persevere, grow, and give him to others. Much like the feeding of the five thousand with the five loaves and two fish, when Christ gives us himself, it doesn't look like much at first, but it is amazing how it multiplies when we give thanks and keep breaking off pieces to pass to the next person.

When the Biggest Big helps fill in for me...

This kid is so compassionate, he let's
Rolly read over his shoulder...

So here it is, Saturday morning after a challenging week, I can hear the rustle of legos from the Bigs room and the twins trying to rope Twinkle into playing Pretend in their room. The cats are curled up beside me in bed. My husband is on a plane, flying home to us (hurray!). Soon, we'll be up and making crepes and bacon (as promised earlier in the week) before I con the kids into helping me clean the house and go for a walk. But for right now, in this brief moment of quiet, I'm praying for myself that I would be more like Jesus--full of compassion--because I'm looking straight into his eyes and seeing the gentle love he has for me. If you'd like, I'll even pray it for you too.

SorryNotSorry Saturday Sunrise

Dear driver who nearly ran over me but did apologize,

I'm sorry I yelled at you. I was playing chicken all morning with drivers who woke up with the sole purpose in life to first blind me with their headlights and then run me off the road into ankle deep, sopping wet grass. You were the first person to apologize for nearly mauling me, but, unfortunately, when you rolled down your window to yell "SORRY", you positioned yourself for the fall out when the straw broke the camel's back. Sure, I played  the Mom Card--you guys need to watch where you're going!--as if the five of you colluded together at 6 in the morning to space yourselves out along the road and try your best to give me a heart attack. I also may have exaggerated slightly--I've been run over five times already this morning!--which was blatantly and obviously untrue because if I had been run over, I wouldn't have been out running still, but keep in mind that every word counts when you're slogging through 9 miles and slipping in an "almost" would have weakened the point. Still. I realize that my response wasn't exactly loving.

Consequently, you may choose from a variety of different response options should you try to run me over again next week.

Option A) I have five kids! Is this an offer to help my husband raise them?

Option B) I get that you need to retake driver's ed, but this is not the right way to ask!

Option C) I am not a small woman. I will put a large dent in your car!

Option D) I know where I'm going if you plow me over. Do you know where you're going if you hit me with your giant SUV? Jail.

Option E) You're forgiven. Go forth without hitting anyone else, drink some coffee, and sin no more.

I felt extremely guilty for the next mile after I yelled at you (which, incidentally, somehow managed to improve my pace--so, thanks for that), but when I got home, my husband informed me that you probably deserved much worse. In his defense, he was most likely imagining his life without me, which would call for a fairly strong response on his part. Rumor has it, he actually likes me, and not just because I keep the masses relatively under control. Still, if I ever see you again, I will graciously accept your apology and then graciously proffer one of my own, because I try not to yell at total strangers. Only at my children when they shoot me with nerf guns before I've had my coffee or leave half a PB&J smeared across the floor at lunch. Because I have standards.

For now, you should know that next week I'm coming armed with a paint gun and will take aim at any car that attempts to run me off the road.

Yours,
Crazy early morning runner lady

PS I'm including this picture of myself eating pineapple out of a super sweet pineapple bowl with a tiny fork so that you can see what I look like when I'm not drenched in sweat and yelling at you. I don't look insane at all, right? Right? RIGHT?!

PPS I'm also including this picture of my youngest progeny. This may confuse you initially, but look closely. While at first she appears adorable and innocent, sitting on the curb, eating her apple like a little paragon of virtue, when you look closer, you will note that she has the crazy eyes. Run me over next week, and the Man will sic her on you. 

Blurbity Blurb

It's Friday night, and while there is a whole dryer full of clothes I could fold and a whole bowl full of cookie dough I could eat, I am choosing to stay in the healthy middle ground and watch The Great British Baking Show on Netflix while working on a blurb blog. That's about as much brain space as I have left after a week of homeschooling my hoydens. Although, now that I think of it, the chocolate oatmeal cookie dough in the fridge might boost my brain power... More importantly, some blurbs for the week!

• Adult pants should have adjustable button tabs at the waist band for those days when you have, say, eaten a ridiculous number of breakfast tacos or a whole bowl full of cookie dough (on the one hand) or for the days you find your pants sliding off continually because you have no butt (on the other hand).
• The twins had a singing and dancing rodeo performance this week. No, I won't subject you to five different videos of awkward preschool cuteness, but I will let you know that their preschool worked hard to brainwash the kids into believing that Texas is the be-all-end-all. Bruiser will now tell you without a hint of hesitation that Texas is the best state in the union. Propaganda, I tell you.

Firefighter dragons have no loyalty to their birth states.
Also, firefighter dragons may need to retire their old--
and incredibly outgrown--Halloween costumes.

• I made the kids animal pancakes the other day. Bruiser asked for a dinosaur. He got a brachiosaurus that lost its tail mid flip, but close enough. Tiny got a dolphin, and Bee an orca whale. Littles bullied me into making Twinkle a rose. But I drew the line with he asked me for an ankylosaurus. There are just some things one does not do before coffee.
• Twinkle's nap time on Thursday afforded me with some time to get the mopping done. Don't be too impressed: I'd been putting off the mopping for quite some time. I hadn't had time to vacuum before she went down and I didn't want to risk waking her, so I mopped without the prerequisite vacuum. Before you ask why I didn't just sweep instead, please remember my middle name is "Lazy". Also, I had vacuumed both days before and how dirty could the floors really have gotten during that time? Evidently, far dirtier than I had anticipated. I was knocking grit into my ankles with every sweep of the mop. Lesson learned. Mainly the lesson learned was that my children are like little tornados of dirt and grime.

Spring has meant picnic weather...and squinting.
The more meals we eat outside, the fewer crumbs I have to sweep.
Or not vacuum. Same same.

• Twinkle decided to dump half a bag of rice this week. In my attempt to make lemonade out of life's lemons, we first did sensory play with the rice and then made stress balls out of rice and balloons. Unfortunately, I made the mistake of using that phrase out loud (when life gives you lemons...), and the kids spent the rest of the day asking when I was going to make lemonade for them. We did make a stress ball for the Man, which Littles suggested be taken to work in case his dad needed to destress by chucking it at people who drive him nuts.
• The kids and I have been reading Cheaper by the Dozen this week. First, I totally did not realize there was that much swearing in that book. I'm doing some heavy, on-the-spot editing, but it has been worth it. While the twins are missing a good portion of the humour (and Bruiser can't understand why the dad is always yelling), the Bigs and I are howling.  Now I'm determined to teach all of the kids Morse code...and considering possibly having seven more children. As one does. I've heard they come cheaper by the dozen.

At any rate, tomorrow's long run is going to come early so high-five me for my blurbs (but don't stab me with a pencil!--the high-fiving homeschooling mom's deepest fear), and I'm off. Especially since, rumor has it, my husband is almost home for the night. Live from Texas (the greatest state in the nation, evidently), it's Friday night!

Fiction Fast

It's no surprise to all of you that I love to read. When I am honest, I admit that novels are my favorite. Additionally, I have a weakness for children's lit, young adult fiction, and fantasy. I am the queen of getting through an entire series in less than a week, yes, even with five kids. But I realize that balance is important and left to my own devices, I am not balanced at all. Ever.

This crazy kid is not taking a break from books any time soon.

So, a couple times a year, I take a month or so off from novels to kind of reboot my system. This year I decided to take the whole season of Lent. Unfortunately for me, I didn't think through the fact that a) Lent is a lot longer than a month and b) Lent is occurring right at the beginning of a huge season of transition during which I emotionally really (really) (no, really) want to take occasional breaks from my own life. Consequently, this round of novel free time has been embarrassingly uncomfortable. Sure, I have other books to read, but nonfiction doesn't take me out of my own life and deposit me somewhere else in quite the same way. Instead, it inevitably forces me to really think through big life questions. This is exhausting and has to be done in small increments.

Sure, taking a break from fiction has freed up my time to do other things--presumably, write--but I had to get through a couple weeks of intense withdrawal symptoms first. My initial response was to start deep breathing and remind myself that I only had to get through forty days of this (plus Sundays--thanks for the sucker punch, Lent). I started treating this fiction fast like labor: take a deep breath and get through this calmly knowing there will be an adorable baby and no more pregnancy on the other side. But then I realized that I was missing the point.

And here is a super old picture of Bee reading.
Look at those cheeks.
I might teach her to read now that I'm not wasting
all my time reading novels...

We fast during Lent not to "get through it" but to position ourselves so that we can see more clearly our need for Christ. If this is the case, then my fiction fast is extremely effective. First, I've seen (again) how much I numb myself through entertainment so that I can tough it out and get through things instead of acknowledging the emotional struggle that is just under the surface. Second, I've seen (again) how often instead of coming to Christ in prayer, I ignore what's actually going on by reading. Third, I've seen (again) how my coping mechanism helps me feel in control of my circumstances instead of acknowledging that I'm not in control but I serve a trustworthy God who is. These are all good things to learn but man, they are a punch in the gut.

And this punch in the gut brings me back to the Gospel. On my own, I will never be good enough. I will always want my own way. I will always choose something other than God, even though I know that he is the greatest good there is for me. But thank God, he sent his Son to die for my sins, paying the price so that I can be healed from all that distorts who God originally intended me to be! Only through Christ can I find wholeness, which he gives me as a gift every time he gives me himself. And that is something that I'm never going to find in a novel, no matter how well written.

So what about you? Are you fasting from something for Lent? If so, what? and why?

Dinosaur Bones and Gratitude

I took the kids to a museum this week to see dinosaur bones. I've been promising to take them to this museum since last summer, so...it was about time. We did have great fun. Especially Twinkle who discovered that if she yelled loud enough, I'd take her out of the ergo and let her run around like a big kid. I got a lot of exercise saving her life and the lives of various innocent museum artifacts. We also discovered that Bruiser has no shame about reaching over the dividers so that he can touch the actual T-Rex. Anyway, the kids got to look at dinosaur bones and pretend to be paleontologists and learn more about Texas history, and I got to feel like a good mom. Win, win.

   

However, as we were leaving, one of my children (who shall remain unnamed) started whining about how he didn't want to leave yet (I realize that pronoun usage gives away that the whiner was neither Bee nor Twinkle, but you probably could've guessed that anyway as both of my daughters are paragons of virtue...and one of them doesn't talk yet). I pointed out, in my most loving and patient mom voice, that his baby sister was heading into meltdown mode, one of his brothers had reached his limit on over stimulation, it was closing in on dinner time, and we were about to hit rush hour traffic going home (we did hit rush hour traffic--these things seem preordained). He gave in with less grace than I appreciated.

Then as we got to the car, a different child told me cheerfully (and without any prompting) how much he enjoyed our time at the museum and thanked me for taking them. Be still, my beating heart. Take a guess which response made me happier. And which kid was happier in the moment, which may be the more pertinent point.

As we drove home (and got stuck in rush hour traffic), the contrast between my children's responses stuck in my brain. They'd both enjoyed the museum, but one had responded in gratitude and the other with complaint. It made me think about how I'm responding to our upcoming move. Am I saying, with a slightly more adult version of whining, "But God, I don't want to go! I'm not ready yet!" Or am I taking the opportunity to express gratitude for the amazing time we've had here and thanking him in advance for what's coming next, knowing that, if he can provide so much good here (and the last place we lived, and the place before that, etc.), then I can rest--knowing that he will give just as much, if not more, at the next place.

We can't always control our circumstances, but we can always make the choice to believe that we have a good Father orchestrating events that will bring about growth, goodness, and joy (even when they come with discomfort and occasionally pain). So this week I'm giving thanks for a good two years here--for good friends, a wonderful church, a great neighborhood, librarians who've helped stuff our book bags, football teams for the boys, a great preschool for the twins, and so much more--while looking ahead knowing that God has good at the next stop too.

The Last of the First

This week I wrote over on our church's blog after we wrapped up the birthday celebration of our Bonus No-Longer-A-Baby. You're welcome to go read about the paradox of rest and hardship over there, but over here I'm going to share a few pictures from Twinkle's birthday...because I can.

Before you ask, no, we did not have a party for Twinkle's first birthday. Everybody knows first birthday parties are more for the parents than the kid, and since neither the Man nor I are much for parties: NO PARTY! Yay! Someone somewhere is deciding at this minute that I am a total Grinch. I have no problem with that.

Anyway, here is a picture of Twinkle, enjoying her last couple days of being a baby. Although, question: once they start walking (nine months for this over achiever), are they still technically babies or have they upgraded to toddlers already?

I included this completely unnecessary picture of Bruiser, just because I love his cute face. Also: when did he get so big? 

Here is Twinkle, post birthday pancakes, waiting patiently for her presents (of which she has no concept, whatsoever). The Man took advantage of the fact that she was not in a rush for presents and washed all the dishes while our food digested. I took advantage of the fact that she was not in a rush for presents--and the Man was knocking out dishes--and had fun taking pictures of my many offspring.

Littles has reached the phase where he lovingly tolerates me most of the time. This is probably because, as he told me last week, he's "almost ten". Stop rounding up, kid.

 Tiny, blurring the camera slightly with his adorability.

Bee is turning into my right hand woman around the house these days, whenever I can manage to pry her away from Bruiser.

The boys still like to rub it in that they outnumber us. Although Bruiser told me last week that God has another baby for us, so maybe God will miraculously tie us up later in the year. *Cue hysterical laughter*

I just put this one in here because Bee is pretty and I like looking at her. Don't judge. It's my blog: I can do what I want!

Here's the Man helping Twinkle figure out her presents. I did not include the dozen photos of Twinkle looking confused as we tried to get her to rip the paper or the ones of her poking her new baby doll in the open-shut eyes repeatedly or the ones where she played happily with the tags on her new clothes for five minutes. One year olds are so entertaining.

This kid was not in our original plans, but we are so grateful that God upended them. She is a joy in our home, even on the fussy days and interrupted nights. Plus, she finally realized my dream of having a child with a dimple.

The star blanket Twinkle is lying on was made by her birthday buddy. It's featured repeatedly in the photos I've taken this year and is one of my favorite things.

These kids are inseparable. I asked them if they were nervous about making new friends after our next move, and they looked at my like I was crazy. Why would they need friends? They have each other. This is totally unrelated to Twinkle's birthday. Sorry about that. I'm off theme. It's been a long morning...but it was taken on Twinkle's birthday so that should totally count.

A couple more shots from the completely raucous party we had for our one year old. She seems really broken up about it.

My kind of kid: no birthday is complete without books.

Birthday cupcakes! Technically this is the one I personalized for Bruiser, who plans to grow up to be a dragon, but I was so proud of how it turned out that I totally wanted to show it off and have you guys all tell me how amazing it looked. But I'm burying it deep down in my post that probably no one will read (other than my family) so that I still look humble.

Twinkle pulled the chocolate off her cupcake, daintily dipped it in her icing and then bit it off. She wasn't as excited about the actual cupcake, but kid knocked out those chocolate stars and most of the icing.

Last picture: happy post-cupcake Twinkle before the sugar rush kicked in. Then we got her outdoors so she could cheerfully run up and down by the turtle ponds and get the crazy out of her system. 

So there it is: our last first year of baby done, and enjoyed to the fullest, which I guess is the major benefit of realizing just how quickly it goes. It has gone quickly this year, and I don't think that was just because she started walking so early, but maybe it was. Either way, I sure am grateful for this kid, even if she's a daddy's girl. Because really: who can blame her for that? The Man is pretty awesome.