Well the next installment of What Have You is up over at NSA. Click here if you feel moved to follow along and listen to our coffee date podcast in the car. We chat about policing our emotions and our various forays into some of the more obscure domestic arts.
Meanwhile – here are a couple pics.
So here’s a thing that happened. Rachel and I started a podcast! It is nothing if not professional and glamorous. We basically get ourselves a coffee, drive somewhere and park (generally behind Goodwill, just to keep it classy) and then we chat in the car for a bit. Often we talk over the top of each other, sometimes we forget to turn off our phones and Mom calls us in the middle. Sometimes we’re more tired and slap-happy than other times – for instance we’ve noticed that if we do this after dinner then we are 200% more likely to invent words. But. Nonetheless. We are posting them.
Today, as we all know, the feminists are being silly again. In a sort of “that’ll learn ‘em” move, the feminists are urging women to refrain from doing any work today. A day without women working will apparently land us all in a huge mess which will teach us a lesson of some sort. There are so many levels of funny about this that it’s difficult to know where to begin.
But the thing that’s shocking is the rest of the nation which puts up with this. Don’t we all know the basic rules that you should never negotiate with terrorists? Granted, compared to real terrorists these women are just gesturing menacingly with their parasols, but the principle is the same. If you give in to that behavior then you have guaranteed you’ll get more of what you just subsidized.
If you’ve had a two-year-old in the family, you know that the heart of man is prone to disobedience.
“Don’t ride your big wheel in the street,” my husband said to my son.
“But I want to,” replied the two-year-old.
“You may not,” answered the voice of authority.
“I’m gonna,” was the reply as he sailed off on his big wheel across the street.
We laugh about this story, which is a family favorite, and we laughed at the time, even though justice was meted out in such a way as to teach our son to be wise in the future.
(No, that’s not my son in the two-year-old picture above, but my grandson Judah at age two.)
But the thing that I want to bring to our attention is not that our young children need to be taught to obey, but that we grown ups must be taught to obey as well. All the time.
Think about the children of Israel as they followed Moses into the wilderness. God provided manna for them to eat, but gave very specific instructions, kind of like, “You may not ride in the street.” And they replied, “I’m gonna.” Read More
“The sin of discontent is very witty with its apologies” (Thomas Watson).
I sometimes think that since I have read enough over the years about contentment that surely I must be doing it. But then God opens my eyes to some discontent that has not only slipped into my heart and mind, but has positively set up shop there. Usually I have been listening to myself complain or worry about something, and the quickest way to be free of the discontent is to replace the complaints with gratitude.
A new difficulty or affliction or hardship takes us into new territory, opening up new possibilities for discontent, or giving us new opportunities to learn to be content. You were doing just fine until…
A new family moved in next door and their dog is barking all hours….or they park their car in front of your house….or the kids are always in your yard….or…..
My friend has broken a confidence….or has never returned my phone call….or forgot my birthday….or….
I had to empty out my savings to pay my taxes….and now I can’t go on vacation ….or buy the new furniture I was wanting…or..
You get the idea. What seems to me to be something that I am perfectly right to be indignant about turns into a discontent that begins to fester until I am noticeably unhappy. Then when I go looking for the culprit, it’s actually not the neighbor or the friend or the taxes causing the problem but my very own heart. The happy news is that my heart can repent and be cleansed. And this new cleansed heart is much more comfortable to live with.
I have seven children who love to eat. We eat by day, and we would eat by night if we were allowed to. Keeping up with the appetites makes me feel not unlike the man on the old coal-powered train whose job it was to never stop shoveling coal. Some of my children are the fire that runs extra hot. Blaire, for instance, is a major breakfast eater, and cereal is a special thrill around here. I don’t know if it was just the knowledge of the Cheerios in the house that caused it, but the other week she got up so early it was still dark out, and while we were in bed, she ate two bowls of cheerios in the dark, went back to bed, and woke up at the normal time thinking she had only dreamed of Cheerios. Two bowls of the precious Cheerios, shot down in the dark and forgotten completely. Read More