Thursday, December 29, 2011

Two Hands

I make plenty of mistakes - like saying that my oldest girls did not sound very good when they were playing the piano with injured hands. (You can see that post here.) They sound great now and we enjoyed the Christmas season more because of the music they were able to add to our home.

Way to go girls!



P.S. In case you missed it, both of the girls injured a hand playing soccer. This prevented Miss Bookworm from playing the violin and Ed from playing the piano. But they each had a hand to contribute to playing the piano together.

Monday, December 5, 2011

Thanksgiving Thoughts

[Note: This article was from our November newsletter that we sent out. I meant to post it at Thanksgiving, but I forgot. You can see the whole newsletter here.]

“But I want hot peppers without olives,” one of the kids complained as they surveyed the four different kinds of pizza CrazyMom had made for dinner. This provided a great opportunity to have the kids remember all of the times they had eaten pizza when there was only one option – and they were perfectly happy. “Somehow, having options breeds discontentment,” I was telling them. When our silly discontentment is brought to our attention, however, it is not that hard to make the shift to being thankful.

This is the essence of Thanksgiving for me – taking the time to set aside my silly discontentedness and refocus on what I have to be thankful for – a loving God, my family, clean water, health care, ample food, and a heated home as winter sets in.

And as often happens when we reflect anew on God’s goodness in our lives, our attention somehow shifts off of us and onto others. So as we all rejoice in Him this Thanksgiving, may God grant us renewed strength to minister to those He has brought our way in life.

Saturday, December 3, 2011

Public Bathrooms

The sign I dream of.
Knock, knock, knock.

“You have got to be kidding,” I thought.

I had just stepped out of the shower when someone knocked on the bathroom door.

Now, I only spend 15-20 minutes a day in the master bathroom, which is less than 1.5% of the day. Since my children spend even less time in the master bath than I do, one might think that we never cross paths there.

And yet somehow the probability of someone knocking on the bath door (or just coming in) during the 1.5% of the day that I am there is nearly 100%.

Even on a day like today when I was taking a shower during an off-peak time. It was well after the morning rush hour of teeth brushing and it was not even during the evening rush hour with the kids’ showers.

How in the world does someone need to come into the master bath at 11:15am on a Saturday morning?

“Who is it?” I asked with poorly veiled irritation.

“It is Anna,” came the reply. “I need to empty the trash.”

I can’t wait until we get to Kenya where we will have half of the bathrooms that we have now.  I guess I will just have to go with this sign on my bathroom door.