Washing soap!

Today I survived my 9-year-old son's birthday party! 9 little boys, ranging in age from 6-11 (two of them mine)....whew! Overall, it went well. We only had to confiscate 3 weapons (fake, of course) and keep them moving, moving, moving--which is right within their nature. I admire my friends who have only sons and seem to thrive in that environment. I love my boys, don't get me wrong, but boys in general wear me out! The are constantly in motion and emit the strangest sounds and odors. And, I've also found that you know you have boys when you have to wash a bar of soap! Mind you, boys are also very sweet and even a smelly, sticky, sweaty hug fills my hear with joy.

I've never bought into the modern rhetoric of "boys and girls are basically the same." It truly has me wondering if the proponents of it were at some time struck on the head with a blunt object!? I have friends with only girls who confidently tell me that they have at least one who is "just like having a boy." As much as I love you women, I must tell you....you are wrong! Here's an idea. One of you can volunteer to take my boys for a day and make sure you take them grocery shopping (because the male anti-shopping gene WILL kick in on aisle one). Then I recommend you put them in the same room and expect them to sit quietly, play quietly together or color. Finally, when you have them change for bed (you are keeping them for 24 hours, aren't you?), make sure you gather their clothing (which I promise will be scattered into the farthest corners) and a take a whiff for good measure. These are just a few suggested activities, you may want to just do the same things you do with your girls and see if they behave exactly the same way. Let me know how it goes. In the meantime, I have some bars of soap to wash.

Tummy Bears and Kidney Infections

My four-year-old has a bear in her tummy. At least that's what she tells me. Sometimes he plays on a playground in there (located in her bladder) and sometimes he visits his grandma (who, apparently, lives near her left kidney). She has quite a story to tell of his escapades. While I find it cute and am amazed at the detail she puts into her stories about him, I confess to some discomfort in it all, too. You see, she had 3 kidney infections in one month this last spring. She was twice hospitalized for treatment at Seattle's Children's Hospital. The doctors have yet to tell us how she came by these infections--so far the tests have been negative. Presently, we are still in limbo with it all and I hate living here. If she gets a fever for any reason, she must have testing to make sure her kidneys aren't infected. So we make sure she takes her meds and we wait. We wait for follow-up appointments, wait for test results, wait for calls back from doctors, wait... to see where this will take us. In the meantime, she continues along in her happy preschool world. She doesn't seem concerned at all about any of this and her tummy bear must be a friendly bear because he doesn't seem to frighten her. I guess I'm glad she is coping so well with it all. I wish I could visit with that bear in her tummy. Maybe he could tell us what's up. After all, he is on the scene.

Rock Collecting

I've been carrying a big bag of rocks slung over my back. They are heavy and cumbersome, but I continue to schlep them about. They are a collection of grievances I have. Each time I feel hurt or offended, I pick a rock up, wishing I could throw it. But, nice girls don't throw rocks, so instead, I write what hurt me on the rock and put it in my bag. They add to my burden, though, and make me tired. Sometimes, they poke through the bag and scrape me. Other times, I can't do the things I want to do because my bag is too heavy or awkward. It especially makes being in relationship difficult--especially with my husband who is responsible for most of the rocks. Those closest to us are often in the position to hurt us most frequently. Two days ago, while reading my Bible and praying, I sensed Jesus drawing my attention to my bag. I don't know how He saw it, I try to put it out of sight when we're together. Sure enough, He wanted to talk about it. He made me open it up and we looked inside. I began to show Him all the things that have hurt me and shared the way I'd been good about not throwing rocks at others. I figured He'd be proud of me for being so good at not retaliating. He just looked sadly at me and said it grieved Him that I felt I needed to hold on to these things and burden myself by carrying them around. That got me to thinking. Why was I holding on to all these hurts and offenses. I guess it was partly because I wanted to remind myself about how righteous I was not to take revenge...which smacks of pride. Another reason was because a part of me feels like choosing to let go of them, through forgiveness, would let the offender off the hook too easily...as if it's really my business how God deals with them anyway. Jesus was so patient and gentle with me as I processed all these thoughts. Mostly, He just pointed out that by holding on to my "rocks of offense", I was only hurting myself and limiting my own progress. He offered to take the whole bag from me. I slowly handed it over (old habits die hard). And guess what? My heart really did feel lighter.