File this one under lessons from our children

 Dear Daddies and Mamas,

Let us never assume that we have the corner on teaching, that our children are given to us specifically so that they may learn from our vast stores of knowledge.

 I like to think I've journeyed far in my Christian faith.
Sometimes I even toy with the idea that I've got wisdom, that if these kids would just pay attention, they will learn so much from me.

I am humbled tonight, yes....again, this far in to parenting....
by a ten-year-old boy too sweet to have come from under my hardened and complaining heart.

From his feverish sickbed on the couch, my Josiah talks with me as I work thru my own stomach pain and pick up stray kleenex and kicked-off socks.

"You know, I'm thankful, Mom.  I really am....for lots of things."  And he makes a list:  the couch he is laying on, a mama to take care of him, movies to watch, medicine and cold water.

I think I stop and stare, a little discombobulated from the daze and the last few days with hardly any sleep.  I am definitely not thankful.  In fact, I've already run so far from thankful that I'm contemplating the goodness of God over a simple flu.  (Sleep-deprivation is not something I handle well.) 

He softens me, this boy who was a gift himself; in his own weakness he reflects his Father's glory with a pure and simple act of thanksgiving.
I may be the mama, but I have far to go and much, still, to learn.  He didn't get this gratitude from me - it came from his own heart which is turned in love toward God.


*these photos are recycled from several years ago.  I don't think any of us are up to taking/uploading pictures right now.  Ah well, you've seen one bad flu, you've seen them all.  Things look much prettier in photographs.

Homeschooling: Distractions while reading out loud.

I try to give my young readers an opportunity to read out loud to me every chance they can. Sometimes, it's hard to concentrate when the baby wants to play and keeps closing your book. But this is school at home, and it's not like everyone can go to their own cubicle (or even room) to complete every task. I've been amazed over the years at just how well the kids are able to teach themselves to handle distractions, say hello to the baby, then get back to whatever it is they were doing. Not perfectly, not every time, but mostly - and good enough. So far, all of our kids are avid readers. I'll have to get back to you about the baby.

What a deal!

I found another sticker carefully placed behind his other ear, bringing him to a grand total of .75 cents.

Parenting with humility

I hold my boy,

Ben,

on my lap

right before his bedtime.

Daddy is calling that "It's time for a Bible Story!"

so I've got just one more minute.

One more minute to feel his weight in my arms,

to examine his bug bites and scrapes from the day's play,

a moment more to notice how well-defined his muscles and feet have become

as they dangle at my shins.

"You've grown, Ben-boy!"

"Yup!"

Someday, you'll be bigger than mama.  Did you realize that?"

"Mmm-hmmm."

Someday, you'll be as big as daddy and Jake and Nick?

You'll be able to carry me, like I'm holding you, if you needed to.

Isn't that amazing?

Ben nods, happy at the thought of growing.

I squeeze him one more time,

stamping the memory upon my heart

of a sweet little boy that I can still hold on my lap.

My mind flashes ahead thru the years to the day that he may, indeed,

carry me

thru infirmity

or hold my hand down the stairs

like I sometimes do

for my own mama and daddy.

Knowing that someday

we will switch roles

makes me parent

with

humility.

One year pictures...and, just conversation

Thanks for all of your suggestions,

both on-line and in-life.

I'm so glad you took the time

to stop by or to write me a note.

I'll take them to heart

and see what works.
I will say that I'm not very good at "how-to" posts
regarding parenting, usually,
because each family is different
and each child is unique.
I think it is up to the parent to
learn who their child is as an individual,
and parent accordingly.
That's actually one our jobs, to know our children
and then to guide them according to how God created them!
There are also a million parenting how-to blogs available. 
I can point you to several if you wish.  :)
But I am happy to open my heart and doors
and windows and share with you things that have worked
(or not worked....) with my children and our family.

We've been busy around here

with company over the weekend.

I'm a lousy hostess, actually -

always have been.

I enjoy company but stress waaay too much

before they come.  It was a great weekend 

filled with good conversation.  We don't get to see Jeff's side 

of the family very much, so we were thrilled to

spend time with his brother Donnie and his wife, Shelley.

Their children are grown, but they were gracious to put up with our clan.  :)
I get kind of giddy when I have real, actual grown-ups
who are captive in my house. 
I may or may not talk too much.  :)

My Dad is getting ready to have another surgery, too,

so there is some preparation for that.

(Had to include this one.  :)  Love the expression on his face.  

He was sooo done.  Can't believe my little man is one year old.

Gabe still has eyes that are two different colors.

I wonder if they'll stay that way?  I'll have to let you know...

He's a pretty big boy, around 23 pounds.  That's bigger 

than most of my children at this age.

He's into EVERYTHING, I'm thinking he's going to be a climber, too.

Life is about to get hard FUN!  :)

Now he is One.

And we adore him.

Something good is coming...

My little Sam has a birthday coming up.

Seven.

He's taken to worrying that he might not have presents.  He can't relax and trust that there is something good going on behind the scenes.

I've never missed a single one of his birthdays; he's never lacked a cake nor gifts, for that matter.  Even in the toughest of times, there would be something.    Last year, it was a cheeky little monkey, hand-sewn and redone several times to his specifications.  The eyes are glass and look like real and the tail was crocheted into a curl, just for him - just to let him know how special he is and how unique and how beloved.  And yet - he can't seem to find peace that we are working for his good, that we have his best in mind, that we won't let him down.

He almost seems to feel the need to do it himself - as if he is responsible to provide it all, as if how it all turns out rests upon his scrawny thirty-five pound frame.

I analyze this and realize this anxiety is genetic.  He gets this from me, not from his father.  His father snores lightly at night while I wake to wrestle with the "what if" and the "how should we" and the "we can'ts."

Sam will be fine.  This will work out and he will be reassured when the day comes.  He will remember that he is loved, that he is never forgotten.  He can relax - the ones who gave him life won't fail him. It is not up to him to make the future celebration happen.

I think there's not much difference between a seven year old and me, and the rest of us who are called children of God.  Sometimes slowly, day upon day, sometimes quickly, in great leaps and bounds, God's faithfulness is proven and we learn...

Trust.

Faith.

There is something good coming.

That is what the Scriptures mean when they say, "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, and no mind has imagined what God has prepared for those who love him."   I Corinthians 2:9 NLT

Nineteen

Nineteen years ago today, we became parents.  In so many ways that seems forever ago; but it also feels like yesterday. Our boy has become a man, and as it seems that a mother gradually loses the moment to speak of her grown son in terms of his babyhood, I'll do this one more time while I am still allowed.

I am usually the lens through which my children see the world, but for today, I'll be the lens through which the world sees my child.

When we found out that we were first expecting a baby, we were scared silly.  We were 23 and 24, and knew absolutely nothing about having a baby around.  We buckled him up and brought him home from the hospital, surprised that this was a legal thing to do.  Why would anyone send a baby home with such inexperienced people like us?

We managed to keep him thriving despite our misgivings, although I remember many tears in the early days.  I was not necessarily a natural at being a mother, but he, fortunately, was a natural at being a baby.  Jeff and I both had to grow into parenthood.

Jake was a wonderful baby and then little boy, so inquisitive, so smart.  He was the perfect "guinea pig" for "starter parents."  He was one of those kids who actually did what he was told, stayed where he was put, learned what he was supposed to learn (before it was introduced to him,) and even ate what he was told to eat.  He wouldn't even get off of his bed unless we told him it was okay.  (For the record, he is our only child who has felt that these are necessary things....)

When I look back at Jake's baby album, I realize how very little we had at that time.   Hmm.  We didn't know it.  He didn't know it.  We were a family and that was all that mattered.  We had a lot of love, and it was so exciting experiencing the growth of a child for the very first time, ever.  I didn't grow up around babies, so it was all new to me. 

I could get lost here and wander around forever in Jake's baby years, so let me tell you a bit about who he is today:

He is a good son.  Although he's grown, with his own work and school and responsibilities, he still makes every effort to honor his mama and his daddy.  He's never disrespectful (well, okay, only once.)  If Jeff puts a job on his list, it may take awhile, but consider it done.  And lately, he has stepped up the level of his projects.  Today he ran a new electrical wire from our top story to our basement in order to better balance the electrical load.  He is working along with Nick to gut and restore a little house we purchased in a Sheriff's sale before Jeff fell ill last year.  The guys lost quite a bit of time then, but are now back at it whenever they get a few hours of time.  He replaced the starter in his car.  Jake's got a bit of inventor about him.  I asked him to put in a little intercom system for me so that I could call kids to come down for supper at the press of a button.  He set to work - creating, drilling, wiring - and when he was finished he had wired our entire house from top to cellar with a speaker system.  It even has toggle switches so that I can choose which room I want to speak to.  I expected a small project, a box...and he gave me an entire system.  Vintage Jake.

Jake is also a Synesthete.  This means that he sees letters, words, names and numbers in color.  He sees music in color and time in spatial relationships rather than flat, like a tabletop.  Numbers have personalities.  It's a cool little quirk that has actually proven to be a great benefit to him.  It helps him remember things that he has read with almost photographic memory.

Jake has his foibles.  We all do.  He'd be the first to say so, in the interest of full disclosure.  :)  He's logical, to a fault.  Sisters, and their tears...well, he doesn't quite understand them.  He's had to work hard to develop empathy.  Computer textbooks?  Easy peasy.  Emotions?  A little more difficult.  But he is learning, and he is going to be a wonderful husband and daddy someday.  He, too, loves to give good gifts.  Provision and service - that's how he shows his love.  He is generous,  Just like his dad.

Jake's my theology buddy.  He loved being a pastor's kid, and had a really rough transition when Jeff left the pastorate.  We recommend and discuss books and blogs we're reading, or talk about the latest theological issues in the blogosphere.  I enjoy his perspective on history, theology, and current tech and science trends.   

Jake has worked for two years at the same job.  He also sponsors a little girl named Kija in Tanzania .  He's given us a gift, in Kija.  She's added so much to our lives through letters and prayers shared over the past two years.

He's also been attending a local college and working toward a computer science degree. He holds an internship with our local PBS station, working on their website.  He's really enjoying that.

He's made Dean's List all year, but that's kind of funny for me with home-schooling and all.  All of these years (14) and I finally have a kid on the Dean's List.  It tickles me, makes me want to say, "I knew he was smart!"  Ha Ha.  It's hard to describe and maybe you won't "get" that, but I'm proud of him and although it feels about 10 years too late I will tuck it in his scrapbook, anyway.

There is one particular thing that I have deeply appreciated about Jake this year.

All throughout his life, he's been given and has taken on a lot of natural responsibility.  As the oldest of nine, he's always had to think of others and look out for younger children.  He's always willingly helped out with his grandma and grandpa, too.

Jake graduated from high school last year.  He could have gone away to college - he had the freedom to make that decision.  He thought about it; he also thought about the Marines.  He even took the entry test and scored a 98%.

But when it came down to it, he made the decision to stay at home.  He chose to stay with us as a crazy and busy family for another year at least, and to go to college locally.  Emotionally, financially, mentally - he could have gone and he would have done well and he would have made it work.  At some point, the time will be right and he will know it and he will step out and away from our family.  (I can always hope that it's not too far, right?)    But for this year, he wanted to be here to watch the baby (Gabriel) grow.  He mentioned that he realized how much babies change in six months of time, and he didn't want to miss that.  He wanted to know his brother, and he wanted for his brother to know him.  I think about that sometimes, when I watch Jake with Gabriel and with the other children.  He has given them a gift - the gift of memories with him during their childhood.  What an incredible thing, that no one else could have given.  He cares for the little ones.  People decry large families, and we've learned to laugh along with those who think we are looney (for, we are!) but...a solid base, a huge support group?  Oh, goodness - that's a priceless gift, a real blessing and advantage in this world! 

Jeff and I are intensively aware of the little bubble of time that we are living in, with our parents still alive and here, our eldest and our youngest and all of our children in between still at home.  What a blessed thing this is, not to be taken lightly and not to be assumed for granted.  Things will change, of course, but this has been the start of something very, very good.

Thank you, Jake.  Thank you for the cuddles when you were little, and the hugs while you are big.  Thank you for all of the stories read and the "I love yous" before bed.   Thanks for breaking us in as parents for the other kids.  Thanks for putting up with every single one of our stages over the years.  Thank you for forgiving us when we have failed you. Thank you for growing with us, for working with us, for being such a huge part of us.  Thank you for challenging us to grow and for loving us all along the way. 

With all of our love for a lifetime and more,

Mom and Dad.

Seventeen

Nicholas Joel Johnson
He was born at 4:02 a.m, one day before his brother's birthday.  He stormed into the world, taking me by surprise.  He would not wait for the doctor, not wait to be born, not wait one more day.  The nurse tried to make him slow down, told me not to push, but there is no reasoning with a baby who has already decided that his time has come.  It was terrifying, and Nick suffered a bruise between the hemispheres of his brain.  I was young and tearful and worried, but after several days in the hospital his rapid breathing subsided, we took him home, and all seemed well.  He grew so fast and was a happy, chubby fellow.

Our first two sons were the perfectly planned, perfectly spaced set of brothers.  We patted each other on the back, applauding our ability to make life orbit properly, and sat back to revel in our organizational life skills.  Nicholas Joel, the youngest, beat his brother Jacob Robert's second year birthday by one day and one day only.  It was a coup de tat, as the ability to celebrate a birthday *first* was forever  captured.  Nick was second born, but would never truly settle for second place.  The competition was on, and with the addition of a surprising little sister 17 months later, Jeff and I felt our false sense of timing and capability trickle away.  We had never really been in control, to begin with, not in the grand scheme of things.

So, they became brothers by blood, by bath, by bubbles....

..by books.

Although they are only two years apart (minus one day, we mustn't forget...) two boys couldn't be more different as they grew.  One is a computer-head who clutters the room with old hard-drives and keyboards; the other is a music fiend with books and legos strewn everywhere.   They have shared everything...hot upstairs rooms in old houses with no air, cold rooms in ugly basements, favorite jeans and socks with holes in the bottom.  They've fought at times to carve out their own identity, struggled at times to get away from each other - and yet, they can still be lost when the other one is not around.  They know each other so well.  Their days of sharing a room will come to an end too soon, and I will be sad.

Nicholas was always the daring type, the dangerous man; but always a tender and compassionate heart.  He wanted to marry a friend of mine who had been widowed, and he was serious about it, even at the age of 4.  Even then, he could sense deep pain, and he wanted to be a help to her and to be a Dad for her girls.  She wisely let him down easily, ha ha.

But he is also the type of boy who, as he has grown, has tried to ride his bike down slides, has attempted to play with power tools, who is the most passionate... both good and bad.  He is most responsible for his mother's grey hair and high stress levels. (And it doesn't bother him in the slightest.  Grin.)

I'll tell you all about Jake tomorrow, for it is his birthday then.  Today, Nick turned 17.

Nick has made Jeff and I live a deeper life, filled with high emotions and some days that have stretched us to our limits too.  As his mother, there are days where I am sure the world is ending and that he is the one who caused it.  And by the next day, I've learned something new about my son that convinces me that he surely hung the moon.  He gives me hope for his generation.  He's taken me places I've never wanted to go, but thru this son, God has taught me so much about love, and hope, redemption, and a future.

A passionate child pulls the rest of his family to a deeper level of reality.  The child who stormed his way into his world allows for no coasting, no pretending, no sweeping feelings or emotions under the rug.  He's wanted to know since forever how much he means to you and how much he is worth and just how far you would go for him.  The answer is, of course, to the ends of the earth and back.  And beyond that, if necessary. And the answer is the same for each individual child.  And each child would do it for the other.  That's just family.

But let me tell you about the other side of our son, Nick.  He'll not like me saying this, but you know, today I read the obituary for another local seventeen year old boy, and I just don't think we should wait to tell the good things we know about the ones we love.  Our children should never seriously doubt that we love them.  We should tell them and show them more often than we do.

Last summer Nick mowed the yard of a drug addicted, alcoholic neighbor woman. For free, all summer long.  He knew she didn't have it within her means to ever get it done on her own.  He never bragged, nor complained.  He didn't even tell me for a whole year.  His sensitive spirit has never gone underground, even during the teen years.  God has given him a compassion for the down and out.

He mows yards for many older people around town.  He charges them next to nothing.  "Mom.  I feel bad asking her to pay anything."  He never lets them down, not even with a cut hand. 

He writes songs.  Good ones.  I expect you'll hear them someday.

Everyone thinks he's tough and overly confident.  He's not.  He's carried a lot of woundedness and he's faced up to it without allowing himself to become bitter.  He's sought to grow thru the things that could have destroyed him.  God has been gracious to Him. 

He's working off a car - hopes to own it this fall, just in time to drive himself to take some dual credit college classes.

He pays little kids good wages to help him do small jobs.  He covers their eyes during scary movie scenes.  He buys them things, "just because."

He loves to give good gifts:  Bleeding heart plants or roses for Mom.  Gift certificates to send us out to eat.  Gifts for the unwed neighbors.

He tithes, to places like Amazima and Real Hope for Haiti.  His heart is broken for a local soup kitchen that might have to close.

He's no saint, I've already made that clear and we wouldn't have any idea how to raise one of those, anyway.    He gets grumpy when he doesn't have enough sleep and when the little kids are too loud and he bosses his sisters around too much.  But he's also the first to keep an eye on their safety and to buy them birthday presents months in advance, too.

Happy birthday, Nick.  It's been some ride being your mama and your daddy.  More snakes and bugs and panic attacks than we can count.  You are still seeking and still growing and still becoming who you are going to be in this life, and in Christ.

This isn't bragging.  There isn't any bragging to be done, as your story is not yet written.  This is just saying that we love you and see Jesus growing in your heart.

May it ever be so.

Though the days with you still at home are fleeing, we love you to the ends of the earth and back, for always.  Thanks for the fun.  :)
Mom and Dad
 

Silly brothers.

Pretending to not get along...still.