The Gift Of Giving

We returned from our candlelight service and the kids raced to slide into jammies. Tonight, we would open our gifts as tomorrow would be a little rushed with the extended family. The fire crackling, Christmas tree lights twinkling and the final song, Silent Night, still playing through my mind, created just the right setting for our little family time.

One by one, the very full tree skirt that donned those kid-wrapped presents, began to empty as my children excitedly passed around their bedroom-found treasures to one another.

It's those faces that light up when they receive an unexpected offering of love that I'll cherish and I'm so grateful for a camera during these moments.

When those starry-eyed children finally headed off to bed, my husband and I sat and assessed how things played out. Even though our children know it's not all about the gifts and they recognize this is a celebration of Jesus' birthday, we desire that our kids grow to love the receiving less and less and gain giving hearts more and more. Remembering the night, we smiled together as we agreed that these kids do take joy in giving to one another and they're oh so gracious when being given something odd like a hair barrette or a cardboard paper towel tube from a younger sibling. We also found that sacrificial giving was going on too. As our six year-old opened up a much-loved and full Polly Pocket case that belonged to her big sister, that big sister smiled while I gasped. But it wasn't a few minutes later, that big girl opened a gift from us: a large box of second-hand Polly Pockets, passed on from an older friend. Unexpected blessings for her sacrifice, I believe.

So, while we have thoughts of possibly doing what this family does (click on the text), we are aware of how God has blessed us abundantly with children who are grateful and very loving to each other.

May you sense how His good gifts make us better givers also.

Stable Love

Every year I pull out the humble stables and the various sets of nativity figures. And every year I have to add another angel, whose wing was chipped when he flew over the cattle (and crashed into the stable), or a new baby Jesus, because his little foot was broken off with all the kid-love. Poor shepherds and gallant wise men don't fare well in this home. They're battered with use. But that's okay with me.

Our little collection of stables is growing and I pray that as small hands send angels flying and Mary and Joseph kissing, that the greatest story ever told is penetrating hearts. That's why our nativity casualties don't bother me anymore. I want my children to remember how they played with those intricate pieces and re-enacted their Saviour's birth again and again.

I Do Not Like Them, Sam-I-Am!

Breakfast this morning consisted of just what the doctor ordered (Seuss, that is). I had two very thrilled little individuals who guessed what I was up to.

How many times can you read Green Eggs and Ham? If I were to put a number to it... countless. It has such a... well, I don't know... a beautifully, exasperating quality to it :)

"Can we actually eat it, Mommy?"

I do not like them, Sam-I-am. I do not like green eggs and ham.

I think they enjoyed not liking them more than anything :)

Farewell Fall

Un-Schooling And Phone Trouble

We all crashed after the final performance of our Christmas musical and it hit us like a tons of bricks--the cold flu. Thankfully, a couple of days, besides kid coughs, and we were back on our feet. I spoke with a mom today at a homeschool group and she told me she was an unschooler. That sounded really tempting--like I would like to call myself one of those. I might be just a little proud of myself when we had a really good curriculum day, instead of feeling guilty because we weren't getting through a particular amount of pages. Alas, my eldest daughter will have nothing but the texts and structure and tests and all that good stuff :) This season, however, there has been so much baking and partying and field trips and visiting that we simply haven't forged ahead in great educational endeavours--of the textbook sort, at least. The real life kind, now that's happening at every turn. How is December for you?

Since my fingers seem to be typing a rambling post tonight, I might as well add that the phone rang furiously not long ago. I say furiously because, when you can't find it, it seems to ring like it's desperate, doesn't it? I looked in the usual places, but began to search madly and threw objects left and right in passionate determination to find the thing. All the while, it wailed it's desperate, twangy ring. When it stopped, I stood over the place from which the sound was coming. It was the Christmas tree. The circular, red mat that spread around the bottom was covered in child-wrapped gifts with at least a roll of tape stuck every which way on several of them. I had watched earlier as my children had gathered stuff from their rooms and "secretly" bound them in sparkly paper and tape. They giggled with each other and shook the ones with their own names on them.

I bent down and pushed presents aside seeking my phone, now quite curious about who had called. It was no where to be found but I recognized one box, in particular. It had held Oliver's new snow boots and he had been excited to use the empty box. Now, it was left unwrapped but latched on all sides with tape. I picked it up and shook it. It sounded kind of like a phone might be in there. I actually felt guilty as I peeled back the lid and discovered it really was my phone. I thought back to him racing by me this morning, that box in hand, saying, "Mommy, you're gonna love this one!"

Do you know, I wrapped that thing back up again? Since we have another phone downstairs, we'll be hearing that crazy sound coming from under the tree until Christmas morning. But, I will have a happy boy. 

Meeting At The Castle

She called me from the dentist's office and she had that eager, yet hesitant tone to her voice that I recognized immediately. She bumbled over details of the dental visit but I was waiting for what she really called for because this friend, she knows we have twin hearts of spontaneity. Finally, she exclaimed that she was going to swing by Dundurn Castle and would we like to meet them there? I did a quick mental assessment of where we stood in terms of schoolwork, who was fully dressed--had everyone eaten? That took all of about three seconds and then I blurted, "Yes! Meet there in half an hour?" And so we did.

Another date to remember--meeting at the castle together--for this little homeschool group.

Thanks, Sandee, for your fun and spontaneous spirit :)

Trimming The Tree And... The Excess Of My Heart

It was right about when she hung that mess of balls together and he strung the gold beads all criss-crossy on our tree that I remembered a scene from a few years ago. Of course, they were much littler then, but somehow I cared so much more how perfect everything had to be, how each ball had it's place and how each light should be turned outward. And, when those small people had been tucked in tight under quilts, I'd go back and rearrange. Somehow, God got a hold of me, and as my children trim the tree year after year, my Lord trims the excess stuff from my heart, the stuff that keeps kids from feeling like their efforts are good enough. I see life so much clearer now.

I am thankful.

 Joy-filled Trimmers working side by side...

...singing the entire time :)

I especially enjoy how there are groupings of ornaments in various places ;)

They're not quite finished and I may give them a little help tomorrow... but I don't have to, and that makes me free.

Did God Forget?

He's snuggled in his jammies on the couch, with a bowl in front of him and I bring him toast to take the "ickies" away. He's staring out the window but he says, "Mommy, did God forget to feed the poor people?"
I'm stopped in my tracks and I search for words. He's still deep in thought but finally turns his eyes toward me.

"No, Babe," I reply, "God didn't forget. He loves people so very much. He has asked us to take care of the poor people. It's a command to us and we actually can't please God if we don't." (James 1:27)

He turns away again and is quiet. I stand waiting for the next profound thought. Finally, he responds, "Then why am I the only one giving to them!?" Oh, precious kid! He can't understand why there is still poverty if people are really giving. He certainly knows he's giving! He's purging his toys and things constantly and telling me he wants to share them with the poor people. I assure him that I know many, many other children and adults who are taking care of the less fortunate and he's still looking at me with wonder in his eyes. I silently pray that my boy finds his calling in caring for the needy. God places these passions in our hearts while we're young.

I stroll out of the room and reassess my own giving. Am I sharing, loving, giving what is required of me--not what is required of my friend and neighbour, but of me? When so many intelligent but misinformed people are blaming God for forgetting the needs of this world, how am I contributing to that notion? As Christians, we must share His love by providing for the basic needs of others. My son understands this well because I've trained him to think this way, but I need to be sure my words match my actions. May the world see that God has not forgotten His people because I am obeying His command to care for them. I am His hands and feet.

Please visit this momma (my friend) who is passionate about teaching her children about giving.

http://myeverythoughtcaptive.blogspot.com/2011/12/heart-shaping-and-kingdom-building.html