Monday, May 17, 2010

Roots.

I have a funny feeling lately, about life. Its that feeling, as I have had in the past, that life is about to change in a drastic way.

I have always called it the breath before the tidal wave, which makes sense to me. I feel like I am doggie paddling in a huge swell of water that is about to come crashing down onto shore. I take a deep breath, and hope to survive. I could easily be fearful of what is next. Considering what has already happened to us with the business, and the ripple effect it has had on every aspect on our life, I hope this deep breath means good is to come. I hope it means we have experienced the worst, and it only gets better from here.

But isn't that exactly what sick and starving people in third world countries feel? Who am I to even wonder if this is "the worst its going to be"?

Our pastor's analogy this Sunday is what I have been meditating on this morning. A doctor decided the best care for planting trees is to barely water them, and swat them with rolled up newspaper to make them hearty. This would make the trees' roots dig deep, find water, and gain strength in their roots. Sure enough, his trees grew to be healthy and strong, and full of leaves. His friend, who hadn't agreed with his tactics, decided to plant trees, nurture, water, do EVERYTHING for the trees... the trees turned out wimpy and unimpressive.

In our North American culture, we seek wealth, happiness, comfort, and life without pain. This makes most of our culture free from the need for Christ, and weak in adversity. It creates an egocentrical culture... all about "me."

I'm allright with the "pain" I have gone through, if you could call it that. If this means God is allowing my roots to dig deeper and strengthen me, then so be it.

It also means those roots have to seek out the TRUE source of water and life... and I already know what that is. :)

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Waking Up.

I woke up this morning to Ian's bedroom door loudly opening, and a small voice whining "I want drink."

As I ushered him back to his bed--quietly, since Ana was sleeping across the room--I told him he could have a drink as long as he stayed in bed. After all, it was only 5:37am.

So, I headed downstairs, filled up a juice cup (completely diluted), and brought his drink to him. But as I handed Ian his cup, his little arms remained limp in bed. He had fallen back asleep. I set the drink down and headed back to bed.

After drifting in and out of consciousness, I heard Ian emerge from his room an hour later, whining "I want drink! Pottttyyyyyyy." I got up, grabbed his cup, and we headed down the stairs to the bathroom.

Half way down the stairs, Ian again started saying "I want a drink! Pottttyyyy! Downstairssss!"

I responded, "Ian, WAKE. UP. Your juice is in your hand, we are on the stairs, and we are headed for the bathroom."

Ian turned to me with a grin and exclaimed, "Is it morning time Mommy?!"

... Yes Ian. Yes it is.

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I remember years ago, having issues with how parents ALWAYS talked about their kids. So I was determined to not always talk about mine, since there is more to me than just them. This is why I have had blogger's block the past while, because whenever I go to write, its about them!

So I decided I'd better just start writing about my kids rather than not writing at all!
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