If Your Day Is As Heavy-Laden

 

May it also be as beautiful.

Shame, Forgiveness, And God’s Surprises

Allow me to tell you a story.  It’s a kinda long one, but the end has a twist that you wouldn’t expect.

On Martin Luther King, Jr. Day I decided that surely the trash would not run.  Therefore, left the already nearly overflowing can up by the house.  They did.  I cussed.  And went about my business.

We have a backup mini-can.  That is just fine, except now without Chikezie helping us we have 2 unassuming little neighborhood dogs that have their way with our cats’ food and the trash can that is just their size.  We ran these dogs off repeatedly through the week; picking up the trash each and every time they dumped.  I have to confess I did more than a little cussing while my fingers froze picking up the same trash over and over.  By the Sunday morning of our first church day in ages I made sure the trash would not be forgotten and hauled it down to the road.  Where the dogs dumped it AGAIN.  This time I was done.  And ticked.  It can just stay there for all I care.  I’ll worry about it tomorrow when I can contain it in a can where it will actually stay.  That afternoon when the neighbor kids (who own the little doggies) came over and interrupted our attempt at a nap I snapped that they should tell their parents to keep their dogs up because they were tearing up our trash (I know, adult, right?).  To which the child responded, “We know.”  Grrr.

That night I put the kids to bed and was working on that big ol’ long post on our large family daily schedule when I saw lights in the drive.  They circled through and I didn’t think much of it.  A few minutes later they circled back through and Matt and I stepped on the porch.  The sheriff said he was looking for a certain address that was not ours.  We didn’t know it (we’re lousy slacking neighbors) and we asked if it was the house with the lady with heart trouble (thinking, “you need to get on it, sir”) “No, ma’am, it was a criminal mischief call.”  And away he drove.  As I sat back down at the computer I wondered aloud to Matt if we should be worried.  “Do you think somebody’s out there?” I wondered.  A few minutes later lights were back in our driveway and spotlighting our front porch.  Now, I was concerned.  Did he think the criminal was lurking around our house?  We stepped back out onto the porch to greet the sheriff and he informed us that we were the criminal mischief.  We needed to pick up our trash that had blown down into our neighbor’s yard.  I was floored.  We explained our story, he said it was alright, just do the best we could to get it in the morning and he drove away. 

We stepped back into the house and I was met with more emotions than I would have ever guessed.  I was angry.  “Are you kidding me?”  I was sad.  “What must they think of us?”  I was overwhelmed.  “I’m trying my hardest over here.”  I was regretful.  “If only we still had Chikezie maybe he would’ve kept the dogs away and this wouldn’t have happened.”  I was exposed, vulnerable.  “They have a direct view to our all our neglected played-in backyard.”  I was scared.  “If they’ll call over my trash will they call child services over my running wild children?  What if we become a statistic?”  I was ashamed.  “We really are dirty people.”

I facebooked my astonishment and anger.  I did not bridle my mouth.  I let unwholesome talk flow.  I found solace in my loyal friends who soothed my soul and reminded me I wasn’t a bad person.  I kept thinking, “Why on earth is this affecting me so?  I can laugh about most of the insanity in our lives, why not this?”  But the laughter wouldn’t come.  And then a friend of a friend privately chatted me and told me that her cousin-in-law had just posted that she had called the sheriff on her neighbors whose trash was in her yard.  Could that be us?  That would be us.  Now I felt weird.  We really are all connected.  And now not only the trash in my yard was exposed, but the trash from my mouth as well.  Should’ve listened to that still small voice that was urging me to be quiet.  More shame.  More confusion.  I asked her to pass along that I was sorry.  She said she would and we parted ways.  I looked up my neighbor’s profile on facebook (I know, add stalking to my list of sins at this point).  And more confused feelings.  She had “I love Jesus” buttons and church pictures.  I was angry.  I couldn’t let it go.  I went to bed but sleep eluded me.  I was shaken.  I prayed.  For peace.  For resolution.  For our relationships in our neighborhood.  For the possible need to move.  I was losin’ it.  I finally slept.

I awoke the next morning, grabbed a trash bag, and headed out the door before Matt went to work so that he could watch the babies while I cleaned up the road.  When I stepped out, there she was.  And apparently taking pictures of my trash.  I was faced with an instant decision.  Confront?  Hide?  Let her have it?  (with words of course, I’m a little woman, people)  Pray for His guidance?  I confronted her.  Shaking.  I was nice, but didn’t lean heavily on what He would’ve had me to say.  I said a lot of what I wanted to say.  Not nice things.  

She drove away, I cleaned up.  And then I lost it.  Like lost my mind.  Started bleaching bathrooms.  Scrubbing countertops, snapping at the kids to clean the loft.  Talking about how we can’t live filthy.  They countered that we clean everyday.  To which I snapped back, “Not enough!”  MyOldest said, “I feel dirty for the first time in my life.”  Now I had done it.  Great.  I lost it again.  Cried, hugged him, reassured him.  All the while, not feeling sure of anything.

I got back on facebook to see that my neighbor’s husband had sent a request to “friend” me.  I was really unsure.  He looks built similar to my husband.  I repeat, I’m a little woman, people.  What was his agenda?  Did I want to be even more exposed to them than I already was?  I called Matt.  He said, “Accept it, little woman, but do not throw any more fuel on a fire that’s already burning out.”  I did.  I chose to not erase my shameful comments.  If they were going to see me, they might as well see all of me.  All of those sins.  He defended their decision to call the sheriff, but admitted they may have taken extreme measures.  He extended an olive branch.  I was surprised.  I apologized.  And sent a friend invite to his wife.  Still leery of their intentions. 

That evening while eating dinner there was a knock at the door.  I was immediately aware of my unkempt appearance and my 2 year old’s half dressed state.  It was my neighbor.  She said this was what she should’ve done in the first place.  She handed me a card and a package for my children.  She said she wrong.  She began tearing up.  I hugged her, crying, overcome with emotion.  I told her it was okay.  We spoke of not getting to know each other.  She said she especially didn’t mean to harm my children.  I reassured her.  We continued crying.  My children sat and watched silently.  She left and I couldn’t speak.  MyOldest broke the silence with “Wow.”  I read her handwritten letter of a humble request for forgiveness.  I handed out the candy she had brought my children.  I couldn’t finish dinner.  I hadn’t seen it coming.  I cried and cried.  My husband told my stunned children that’s what God’s goodness looks like.  That’s how only He can heal.  That’s how miracles feel.  I couldn’t stop crying.  The washing anew felt so good.  My unbridled mouth brought brief shame, but I couldn’t focus on fear or anger or shame any longer.  All I could do was stand in this new found even more exposing light.  And bask.

It was not short-lived.  Over the last few days we’ve exchanged recipes, mothering and wife-ing tips.  We’ve asked questions and gotten to know each other.  And I’ve seen God’s face more clearly this week than I have in a long time.  And my children?  They know what humility is now.  They know why they should be slow to speak now.  They are excited about the new baby our neighbor will be having soon.  They know they have a friend in the neighborhood they can trust.  They’ve seen God’s commands and our obedience and His making whole of shattered relations amongst believers.  They’ve seen my sin and my redemption from it. 

I’m so very thankful for our neighbors.  For God’s new gifts to us.

Wordless Wednesday ~ Unposed

Our Daily Schedule (Roughly)

I’m not a schedule keepin’ girl.  I like making them (or used to before it got so complicated), but it seems impossible to fit all of us into a tried and true schedule.  Real life (and lots of little unpredictables) seem to get in the way.  I had a request the other day for what our daily-ness looks like.  I’ll try.  At first I thought, “We don’t have one.”  But then, when I backed away I realized we roughly do the same things at roughly the same times each day.  I’m very visual and I “see” our day broken down into blocks.  Now, mind you, I didn’t sit down one day and make this schedule.  This is how we naturally fall into a kind of schedule at this point in our lives.  It changes as we have more babies and I’ve realized it seems to be going in rotation.  We move back through the motions we’ve done before as each new baby sets the pace in our house.

Early Morning Block
Baby is not on an artificial-set-by-me schedule.  He naturally wakes up and nurses around 6 or 7 and then we get up.  Everybody usually tumbles out of bed around the same time.  The joys of having lots of little people sleeping very close to each other.  I change the 2 youngest diapers, brush my teeth, get my shoes on (who wants to stick to the floor first thing?), and make coffee.  The olders are either watching tv, playing the Wii, or their Nintendo DSes.  I set out some snacky easy breakfast – crackers, granola, dry cereal, poptarts, etc. and then I sit down at the computer with my cup of coffee.  Either holding TheFinalist or with him in the swing next to me.  I check email, catch up on facebook and sometimes blog.  Then I look over what school work we’ll do for the day and set it aside.  I usually either unload dishes or switch the laundry or both depending on if TheFinalist needs to nurse again or just needs to be cuddled.

~I want to interject here that I keep the kids’ day on a rotating schedule of settled time, rowdy time, and working time (either mentally or chores).  I move them onto the next time either if I need them to do something (get ready to go to town or pick up the house for somebody coming over) or if I sense they need to be moved onto the next.

 

Mid Morning Time
I call everyone to the table and we do school work.  This always looks different.  Now that I’m not sick and tired with the pregnancy and the first few months of postpartum, we’re doing much more unit-type studies and activities – things I can do with a 2 year old (mostly) occupied at the table, a pre-k-er, a first grader, and a third grader all at once.  This lasts about 2 to 3 hours.  Then I fix a late breakfast/early lunch and I send the kids out to play.  Or make them ”play in the real world” - no tv or electronics.  Then I sit down at my computer again to veg for a few minutes.  Baby fits in around all of this – nurses as needed, changed as needed, cuddled fairly constantly, put down to sleep whenever he feels like it.

 

Nap Time
I fix a snack, potty and change everyone, and move everybody into wherever we’ll be settling for the day.  Sometimes I let them watch tv while I settle the 2 youngest with me on the couch and I drift while they sleep beside me.  Sometimes I let the boys bring paper or books to the bedroom and they can occupy themselves quietly while the rest of us sleep.  It changes.  What doesn’t change is that there is always a rest time.  And we do this together.  Mostly because I like the security of knowing they’re all right with me and I usually drift in and out.  Lately, we’ve been reading The Secret Garden.  I have everyone settle into a spot in the bedroom.  The loveseat, the floor, the foot of the bed, beside me, wherever.  I do sometimes assign spots depending on who is messing with whom the most.  I make sure we’re all in place with our read-aloud material and then I crawl into bed holding the baby, with the toddler next to me and the older 3 in their chosen spots.  I read a chapter or 2.  And then I either require that we all lay there quietly (which I know means everyone will go to sleep) or I let the older 2 or 3 depending on who’s still awake watch tv, play their ds, look at books, etc.  But they are not allowed to get up or talk – this allows them to settle as well as letting me get some much needed rest.  Prep time for this is pretty extensive, but pays off for me.  The prep time of getting everyone into place, quiet, and still is at least 30 minutes sometimes as much as an hour – we base the time it all starts on baby – he must be ready to sleep by the time we lay down or mama gets no rest.  Our whole lives are finely tuned timed events.  As with most things we do – everyone must be freshly potty-ed, freshly fed, and sufficiently tired enough to pull this off.  And I’m really strict about no wiggling and no talking.  If it’s conducive to sleep, then the littles will sleep – even with 6 people in the room.  The actual resting time is an hour to 2 hours.

 

Afternoon
We all start stirring again and food is the first thing on the agenda.  We have a really late lunch, illustrate the chapter we read at naptime after discussing it, and prepare for clean up time.  We clean the living areas first and move onto the bedrooms and bathrooms.  I’ll save our chore charts for another day.  While they clean their assigned areas BigMan “helps” everyone and I try to fit in folding laundry, doing the dishes, and starting on dinner.  As soon as chores are done they are free to play – outside if it’s nice, but again, this is usually “in the real world” play.  Get that energy out!  See the cycle yet?  Rest, active, thinking, rest, active, working – keep them moving through the rhythms of the day.  Again, baby runs my world.  I stop when he needs to eat, be changed, cuddle/awake time – what I do depends on him.  He’s always with me – either in the swing, lying on the floor – trying to figure out that rolling thing!, or in my arms.  At the end of this time I usually start baths and showers.  I bathe the 3-4 younger ones (baby skips a day) and get my shower as well and then TheOldest gets his shower a little later after we’re all through – allowing the hot water to get, well, hot, again.  He has to have his last otherwise he’ll stand in the shower hanging out until all the hot water is gone. 

 

Daddy Comes Home
Again, meticulously timed.  The house is picked up (most days), the kids have been burning energy, are now clean, and been deprived of electronics and are ready to settle and be with daddy.  They spend time with him – ecstatic when he drives in.  And then we usually allow them tv/Wii time – allowing Matt and me time to talk and watch the news.  I finish dinner and we all eat together.  After dinner is hang out time.  Again, be in the real world, make something, draw something, play something.  I usually try for quiet things, but the reality is they are usually running through the house yelling and jumping while I continually say, “Y’all sit down and do something quietly!”

 

Bedtime
This changes with the seasons.  Really.  In winter we aim for 7:30 to begin round one of bedtimes and 8 for round 2.  Now that means they’re in their beds (or room – hanging out, as the case may be), not asleep.  It’s so early in winter because I’m just done.  I’m done.  It’s all selfish.  I can take no more in the winter.  In the summer we usually have the pool out and we don’t come in until dark – but I’ve had a lot more fresh air and sunshine, so I’m good to go for a lot longer.  At about 7:15 I start the “go potty and brush your teeth” routines.  I change BigMan and try to get him settled on the couch (read: he’s running around like a wild child while I get everyone else in place).  The 2 older children who are not “Boss” gather “what they need for bed” – books, colors, paper, legos, baby dolls and head that way.  “Boss” is out in the living areas with BigMan.  “Boss” gets to pick (within limits of what I’m up to doing) what they want to do in that special 30 minutes.  TheOldest will blog some, they play Wii with daddy or me, they play checkers or some other game with us or watch a show they want to see or just sit and be with us.  At this point, I’m usually rocking TheFinalist (fussy time of night) and BigMan is made to sit on the couch with us.  “Boss” then does their potty/brush teeth/get a sip of water/gather things for bed routine and off they go to the bed.  We tuck everyone and prepare for at least 30 minutes of semi-constant “Y’all get quiet in there.  Lay your heads down.  STOP TALKING!”  BigMan lays on the couch next to me, by this time TheFinalist is usually out for the night in my arms, and we watch boring Mama and Daddy shows (the news, sports anything innocuous and sleep inducing) until BigMan goes to sleep.  Then we watch our shows we don’t want them seeing: The Middle, Castle, The Mentalist, Celebrity Rehab, our late night shows, you get it.  Then we carry 2 little sleepy heads to the “nesting room”, check on the other 3 sweeties, and prepare to do it all again tomorrow.

Please know though, that this is a very rough draft of what our final results actually look like.  I have lots of mishaps and most of the time BigMan has had at least 2 bubble baths in the day.  Sometimes I skip naptime in lieu of cleaning out a closet, scrubbing a bathroom, cleaning out the van, or some other pet project.  There’s a whirlwind of activity through all of these.  And some of them are actually focused and on target.  Mostly not.  Sometimes we do 2 sessions of school (when we’re stuck inside due to bad weather or they’re being particularly unfocused and crazy).  On go to town days there is usually no school and a modified clean up time.  But we often do school on Saturdays and most holidays.  It’s a sketch up of what our lives generally look like right now.  So how does your day compare, please tell me – I love to peak inside other’s days!

My Friends,

whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things. 
                                                                                                                           ~Philippians 4:8

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