Saturday, December 19, 2009

sleep in heavenly peace

dear emily,

many years ago, a college friend and i were catching up on each others'
families.  she had two beautiful children to my motley crew of five and
a very different kind of life.

she said that her average day consisted of getting up at 6:00 to put on
her make-up in the morning.   make-up in the morning?  i was lucky
to WAKE up in the morning.

then she gathered up the dirty clothes, threw them over the upstairs
rail, awakened the kids, made breakfast, and flew out the door to take
the kids to school around 7:00.

i was astounded, confounded, dumfounded.

at the same time she was towing her children out the door, mine were
tumbling into the kitchen and onto my lap for a morning snuggle.   i
would have just started my devotions that never seemed to last longer
than 30 seconds.

one of my favorite things about home-schooling was that i never had to
awaken a baby to take an older sibling to school.  i never even had to
awaken the older sibling.  they slept as long as their little bodies needed.

isaac was usually the first to rise, and we frequently had math and
reading completed before the others were ready for their breakfast.
it was a totally unorthodox way to do things, but it worked for us.  that
is the goal, i think, to figure out what works for your family, not to try
to be like other families.

galatians 6:4 says "don't compare yourselves to others."  be your own
sweet family, which you do so brilliantly.

lea hear the angels sing.

dear emily,

one of the most rewarding roles of motherhood is rescuing our children.
unfortunately, we can't always...and shouldn't always, but when we
can, it just doesn't get better than that.  here's a special rescue story.

a mom overheard her eight year old son and his friends regretting that
they couldn't sing in the school Christmas program.  apparently, they
didn't sing well enough.  imagine her outrage!

so she marched them to the piano and had them sing  'it came upon a
midnight clear' from the program.  afterward, she sympathized with the
teacher.  they not only could not sing the notes, they could not sing any
note.  she had to start at the very beginning...

every afternoon after school she spent time teaching them to find a note,
by playing it and having them try to sing it.  eventually, they progressed
to linking two notes, three notes, and finally, the entire song.  the boys
especially loved the line, "the world in solemn stillness lay to hear the
angels sing."

after watching the boys do a wonderful job in the school program,
though thrilled for them, the mother was feeling a little glum for not
having been a little appreciated for her hard work.

walking home, hand in hand with her son on that still, snowy night,
she heard him say, "mom, i think i heard them."

"heard who, honey?"

"the angels sing..."

thanks received.