Dilemma of the Second Born

There was a bit of a fracas at our house today when the Big Boy thought the Little Boy should not peel his own apple, because he might cut himself. (With a peeler???)

Peace restored, Little Boy observed plaintively, "If I were a big boy, I would not boss little boys that are 4 years old."

The boys and I went to the local orchard to stock up on apples before they close for the season. We wandered around the bins, breathing in the delightful ciderish aroma of about 10 varieties of apples, finally settling on the old fashioned Stayman Winesap. We like heirloom apples around here, no genetically engineered, artificial fruit for us, thank you. Or maybe it was because they were cheaper... Olivia thought they were for bowling until we convinced her to count instead. And she was absolutely delighted when I set up a stool for her to wash them. Too bad naptime cut into her fun, but it was a good thing for my ambitious plans.


This is some serious multitasking, peeling, peeling, peeling, while teaching Alex's Language lesson for the day. He couldn't wait to get done so he could do some real stuff.

Math included the Very Important Job of measuring the ingredients for sauce and bossing Little Brother when he stirred too vigorously. We cooked the cinnamon/sugar mixture, poured it over apples in the jars, cold packed it, and...


Voila'!!! Dreams of apple pie and apple goody and apple crisp and apple cheesecake coming up. Just kidding about the cheesecake, but really, don't they look a little "cheesy"?




And now for a little rant about blogger. You would not believe how much effort it took to post this one little post. I wanted to put up 6 pics and it coughed after 5. And the font changes every time you look away, almost. And I accidently deleted pictures 3 times when I was merely trying to backspace, and I couldn't figure out how to put them back, and other frustrations too numerous to ennumerate. I am not techie enough even for blogger, it seems, so Nate, don't suggest something even more user surly. Really, is it just me, or are there others out there who would like to share their pain? D.P.

A Quiet Heart

O Lord, our governor, we beseech Thee, of Thy mercy,
That we may have the heavenly vision,
And behold things as they seem unto Thee,
That the turmoil of this world may be seen by us
To be bringing forth the sweet peace of the eternal years,
And that in all the troubles and sorrows or our own hearts
We may behold good, and so with quiet mind
And inward peace, careless of outward storm,
We may do the duty of life which brings to us

A quiet heart, ever trusting in Thee.

We give Thee thanks for all Thy mercy.
We beseech Thy forgiveness of all our sins.
We pray Thy guidance in all things,
Thy presence in the hour of death,
Thy glory in the life to come.
Of Thy mercy hear us,
Through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Amen.

This is one of my favorite poems out of the book, "A Quiet Heart" by E. Elliot. I don't know a better way to express my prayers for the new year, so I thought I would share it with you all.
Blessings and love to all three of my devoted readers!

Sending Our Friends Some Fluff

When it began snowing today, our boys wished so much they could send a snowball to Tony and Derek in Honduras. We thought maybe some pictures of the lovely stuff would convey our sympathy to those who have no snow of their own!

The Land of Uz

We got our boys some audio Bible stories on CD from Your Story Hour. They kind of give you sticker shock when you see the price at the bookstore, but they are well worth the money.

Recently the boys and I listened to the story of Job. I was amazed again at the faith of this hero of old, who had no idea why the bottom fell out of his world one day. Only the bottom did not fall out, much to the Devil's consternation. My boys seemed to grasp for the first time just how dastardly wicked the Devil is. Alex was deep in thought after the story ended, then: "Mama, you know what? If I would be allowed to say it, I would call the Devil a poop." (I know what you mean, Son. I really do.)

I was glad for two things.

1. It was a great teachable moment to explain to them that the victory is already won over that enemy of all that is true and good.
2. That was the worst word he knew.
   

A Strong Assurance

We missed the Messiah concert in Bedford for the first time in seven years last weekend. Instead, we stood at the grave of a dear friend and heard those same beautiful words being read as her body was committed to the earth. "The trumpet shall sound and the dead shall be raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed... For this corruptible must put on incorruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. Then shall be brought to pass the saying that is written: Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory? The sting of death is sin and the strength of sin is the law. But thanks be to God, who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."  I stood there in the bitter cold while five little children and their daddy helped to bury the body of their loved one, and I heard the music in my heart and was comforted. 

When I first got the news that my cousin Richard's wife was on life support just two days after giving birth to her sixth child, my mind absolutely refused to accept it. I wandered around the house, trying to work, crying out for mercy, for a miracle, for anything but death. "Lord, You can't let her die. You know how much her family needs her. She prayed and longed for this baby for years. Please let her live. Please..." And then the call that they were taking the life support off, and Wilma was gone. Our anguished "whys" drifted out into the inscrutable blackness of the night. There were no answers, and the gap between Who God is and my human questions in the face of this tragedy seemed too much to bear. I remembered that the faithfulness of God has nothing to do with my reasoning and feeling, and I was comforted.

It was characteristic of Wilma that she did not want a morbid weeping around her casket, that she wished for people to focus instead on the glory of that which is incorruptible. We sang "Blessed Assurance" and "Praise Him, Jesus our Blessed Redeemer" and I have never heard such singing at a funeral. It was glorious! 

Wilma was the most joyful person I ever knew, and I said that long before she died. She loved Jesus with all her heart, and we all knew it. She totally poured out her life for others. She was infectiously happy and alive. And yet now she is even more alive. It stretches my little human brain to think of her having reached the very Best, the presence of Jesus Himself. And yet my heart breaks for those who will miss her sorely, for her family who will have to try to figure out how to go on without her, for the tiny baby girl they named Evangeline, who only had a few hours with her mama. I remember what Richard said, "My wife was simply a channel for God's love to pour out on us. All that love came from Him, and He is able to pour His love onto us from other channels." I was challenged by his faith, and I was comforted.

"But thanks be to God who giveth us the victory through our Lord Jesus Christ."

Now We Are Six

We celebrated Alex's birthday early, on Thanksgiving evening. Our little tradition of picking out cake designs online had me a bit worried this year, as he kept taking a shine to the most impossibly intricate cakes. I managed to steer him to one that was doable, and here it is... The Fishbowl Cake. Thanks to Aunt Rachel for pressing in the hundreds of nerds at the bottom when the icing was already dry!

Six years ago it was hard to imagine my baby being able to clean up his own messes, wash dishes, fold laundry, entertain siblings, mop the kitchen floor and so much more useful stuff! I wouldn't have believed the day would come so soon when he would be reading, writing, making amazing Lego creations and coming up with original jokes for my entertainment. Wow, here we are, just six short years later!

I don't know how many people told me, "They grow up so fast." Like so many other cliches, it didn't sink in until it happened to me! Growing up is a good thing, though! For example, it is much easier for me to take them all along and run errands in town now that two of them can buckle their own seat belts, hold hands across the parking lot, and have learned (sort of ) not to touch the stuff on the shelves. This morning we had no less than six stops to make on our round through Bedford. We were done in 3 hours, and I did not come home with a headache, as in the old days of lugging infant seats. So to repeat another truth that I didn't really believe for the first few years of littles in the house, "It gets easier!" Thank God, it gets easier!