Happenings

From the Word

Solomon spent seven years building the temple. Gold and bronze. Inlays and sculpture. God's temple was to house God's glory. It was to be beautiful.
I am the temple of the Holy Spirit. I wonder if I am beautiful. If Solomon was to build a beautiful temple to house the glory of God. How much more beautiful would the temple God built to house His Spirit.
Perhaps I have less to worry about in the looks department than I thought.

From Life

Breakfast dress--
Abigail got Simon ready for breakfast. Or at least presentable to sit with her while she eats breakfast as he isn't consuming oatmeal yet.

Abigail wanted to help me with the dishes. I don't know what she said, but she had much to say.

Simon also needed to get "beautiful" in order to be in the parade. Note the barrettes.

Confusion

Stretching or Seating?

In Conversation

Me: Abigail why do you have a sticker stuck to your forehead.
Abigail: It is not a sticker. It is a crystal. I got it for saving the horse in the living room.
(I was unaware of an endangered living room horse. Dang it. I could have had a crystal.)

Drawing

Trying. I'm really trying to post more often.

We're trying to draw cars.

Abigail has decided to change the spelling of her name from Abby to Abey.

The world is ending. Guess this is the post for today!

So Everyone Can See My Pretties

Look at those socks.

We're picking up toys, today. I hate the mess of toys. I want to put them all in the trash. I cannot.
She annoys me when she gets out the toys we just put away. I've been annoyed alot this morning.
I needed to enjoy her before lunch so I won't snap her cute little head off.

What better picture to remind me of her very Abigail-ness? What better way to enjoy her than to remember her Abigail-ness?

In Pursuit

I've been feeling the effects of a life too busy. Doing life from guilt or from expectation or from the desire to please others.

I've been asking for peace and love and joy and patience and . . . . But these are the fruits. Displaying the seed. The result of a union. For the purpose of reproduction. Fruits that I can not pick from a tree. I cannot find them at a farmstand.

I am to be part of the union. The seed, Christ in me. The work of the the Spirit for the purpose of growing the Church.

Candles, Flowers, Friends

Tonight I had friends over. Smoothies and Satin Hands.

Chris took the kids for the two hours.

The floor was clean, I could get the candles out and flowers graced the TV stand. During the last minutes I brought a quilt up to cover the bench usually used as a toy shelf.

For two hours women talked ate and smoothed our hands.

And my house looked like this family was put together.
Like the dishes get done in a timely fashion
Like Abigail picks up after herself.
Like I am organized.
Like George doesn't destroy everything we give him.
Like we put our clothes away.

The friends left.
My family came home.

I blew out the candles, put the flowers on the table.
Finished up little girl snacks and baby his bottle.
Brushed teeth, changed diapers.
Read Bible book, shared thankfuls, prayed.
Tucked in children.
Made date smoothie.
Brought the dog in.

Toys on the floor.
Dishes in the sink.
Computers on.

Refreshed mother.

Sum of the Parts

He is always happy. Happy to go. Happy to see new people. Social, happy dog who licks Abigail's hair as we travel. He is confined to the back seat, though now he can unbuckle his seat belt with alarming regularity. Soon drive-thru food will be at great risk for girls who forget to pay attention.



We have been going to obedience classes at Pet Smart. The classes work for us and while George was a puppy he did a great job. Now that he is a juvenile we have more difficulty. Tonight George and I went alone. We learned a great deal. It is a wonder how well I learn when I don't have to wonder which crate Abigail is hiding in while teaching George to heel.

Sometimes a mama needs time alone with each of her family members for the sum of all the parts becomes more than she can track. But with time alone, this mama can remember to enjoy them all.

Tonight in separate events they all made me smile.

Thankfuls

big black dogs eating

baby boys talking

little girl learning

mama friends

friends with memories--from silver to gold

posted schedule

saying "no" and meaning it

purple-y clouds

I Think You Hate Me

Dear God,

Sometimes I don't know where you are. Like when the list of chores, want-tos, need-tos, and random unexpecteds grows out of control. When I feel like no matter what I do or how hard I work, I will never get to everything. When I look back at my day and can only see what is left undone.

Sometimes the morning after those days when I deliberately get up early to be with you and Abigail follows shortly thereafter. When I am asking for a few minutes of peace to unclench my teeth. When the sounds of my dear ones leads to a heart angry. When I really try to make sure my heart is right. When. . .and they wake early and they need so much on waking so early.

On those days, I think you must hate me.

And I desperately want you to love me. I want you to acknowledge that I am trying. I want you to care that I asked for fruit. I want you to hear and respond to my heart pleas.

I just want to know, to experience, your hearing, your responding, and your love. I don't want to have to believe it, I want to feel it.

Love,

Sarah