"Come into my heart..."

So this weeks marks a momentous occasion for our family. One "T" and I have been praying for a long time. I will relate it hear as it happened so that I will have it chronicled for future reference.

"A" has been a little bit obsessed lately with good, evil, and sin. It comes out in his play and in his questions. We have been trying to answer him truthfully while at the same time being sensitive to the fact that he isn't quite 5 yet.

So on this particular Monday afternoon, "A" and "G" were playing while I was getting some things done on the computer. All of a sudden, "G" came to me sobbing. Since she isn't quite talking yet (especially when she is crying), I asked "A" what had happened. He replied, "Oh, nothing really. I just told her that Daddy was on a work trip.". What??? Now, you must understand, my husband travels periodically for his job. Sometimes for weeks at a time. The term "work trip" is something I came up with to help the kids understand that Daddy won't be home for many days. So for him to tell "G" that Daddy was on a "work trip" when he was only out at the movies with the teenagers and would be back in a few hours, was a HUGE no no.

I sent "A" to his room while I got "G" calmed down and assured her that Daddy wasn't on a "work trip" but would be home when she got up in the morning. Not an easy thing to convince a 2 year old of when she believes everything big brother says!

Once that was done, I brought "A" back down and explained how what he had done was not only a lie (a big deal in our house) but it was also purposefully hurtful to his sister. I reminded him of our discussions about sin and told him he had just committed 2 and that he needed to pray to God about it. He did and then I had him apologize to his sister.

Whew! Mommy drama!

Skipping ahead a bit, I began fixing supper and had to scold "G" several times to not push buttons on the dish washer (very tempting for her). After I finally had to give her a little hand "thump" to help her remember, "A" chimed in that "G" had sin and he didn't . It doesn't come off quite right when I write it. You have to imagine him saying it in a very sing-songy, put-downish way. So I reminded him that, no, he sinned too (reminding him of what had occurred earlier) and for some reason the phrase "you have sin in your heart" popped out of my mouth. "A's" entire face crumpled and he began to SOB. This was completely new and a little out of left field so I asked him what was happening inside his head. He kept sobbing but managed to say, "You said I have sin in my heart, and I don't want it!". Now, knowing better what I was dealing with, I reminded him about Jesus dying on the cross and that He did that so that we wouldn't have to have sin in our hearts. And that when he wanted to, he could pray and ask Jesus to come into his heart and take the sin away. I waited with bated breath to see what he would say...

"Mom, can I have my ravioli now?" So much for that!

A few hours later, I had "G" tucked into bed and was working on getting "A" settled down for his goodnight story. I asked him to say his prayers first. He did. At first, it was similar stuff to what he uaully prays about (thank you for my good day, that you for my family, please help my have good dreams, etc.). Then out of the blue he said, very matter of factly, "Jesus, please come into my heart." I was dumbstruck. I barely heard the rest of his prayer. When "A" finished, he caught me staring at him and asked me why. I said, "That was just a really good prayer." His reply was, "Really? I didn't think it was one of my better ones." Sigh.

I waited until "T" got home that night to make sure what had happened had really happened. "T" said it sounded to him like it did but that we would have to keep teaching "A" about what it meant and he would have to take further ownership of his decision as he got older.

If there was any doubt, it was cleared up the next morning. When Tim asked him about his prayer, "A" confirmed that he had indeed asked Jesus to come into his heart and then said, "See my shirt Dad?", ("A" had chosen to wear his green "Jesus" shirt with the candle on the front that morning), "Yesterday, I had sin in my heart and today I don't!" I seems he understood things pretty well. :-)

So we are so very thankful that God chose to answer our prayers and drew "A" to Himself at a young age. It is an awesome responsiblity given to us as parents and I pray the same will be true for "G" as she gets older.

So to end this I will record that on July 28 of 2008, "A" had his name written in the Lamb's Book of Life. Amen and amen!

Our school adventure is about to begin

There seem to be 2 schools of thought when it comes to schooling young children. OK, there are probably a lot more than 2, but for the purposes of this blog, let's just go with these:

1. "The earlier the better". Start as early as possible and throw as much information at your child as you possibly can. They are little sponges at this age and you have to take advantage of it.
2. "Better late than early". Especially with boys. When young, yes they are sponges, but they are also kids and need the freedom to be fidgety, silly little piles of energy.

I have generally found myself to be in the second camp. Not that I am opposed to teaching my kids stuff. Quite the contrary. I just feel it is easier (for them and me!) to do this as a part of living life instead of trying to get them to sit down, pay attention and learn stuff. I am the mom at the grocery store who hands my daughter different pieces of produces and talks about what shapes, colors and textures they have. And what they are called, of course!

Now, for those of you who know us in real life will undoubtedly point out, we did decide to put "A" in Belgium preschool last fall. However, this had nothing whatsoever to do with academics. In Belgium, preschool is mostly one big, social art class with gym once a week. Yes, he's learned how to hold a crayon/pencil and how to follow directions a bit better, but those are just happy side-effects. Our purpose for enrolling him had to do with his begging to have more play time with kids his own age. This was something that was very difficult when we first arrived and this seemed to be the easiest solution. We also thought it would be good for him to learn some French. OK, so that's a little academic... Anyway, this was never "Plan A".

The plan was that we were going to wait for this coming fall to begin a gentle version of American preschool at home. He is still going to attend Belgium preschool for one more year, but we wanted to begin the gentle transition to what the true "Plan A" is: homeschooling full-time.

"T" and I decided to homeschool our children in the first years of our marriage. There were a lot of reasons that would take up WAY too much room in this already long blog. But after nearly 13 years of knowing it was going to happen, I expected to spend the next couple of months ironing out what exactly we would do and planning on how to introduce things as gently as possible so as not to "spook" him about schooling with mom.

Enter "Plan B", aka my son. He is BEGGING for me to start teaching him things. Not just casual observational talks like we normally have. He wants to learn how to read. He wants to learn how to write. "Mom, I want YOU to teach me!".

So, I have spent the last few days doing what I had planned to spend the next couple of months doing. My brain is fried, but I did it. I ordered everything this morning (from Sonlight, in case anyone is interested). I can breathe for a few weeks. Then everything will arrive and the grand planning of it all will begin. I hope to start the first couple of weeks in June.

Whew! I need a nap!

Oh, and you know what this means... future homeschool posts! You have been warned!

Procrastination

Cartoon by Dave Walker. Find more cartoons you can freely re-use on your blog at We Blog Cartoons.

2 things:

1. I hate to clean. I avoid it when I can and muddle through it when I can't. This week "T" was gone, the kids were sick, the house was a mess, and my in-laws were coming over from the US for a visit. No choice. Cleaning ensued.

2. Taxes. Yes, I know, everyone hates paying them. I'm talking about preparing them. I am a reasonably smart woman. I can generally take care of all the family paperwork and financial matters. Taxes have, however, eluded me. I even took a free tax preparation class once. I dropped out after the third class. The whole thing was giving me a migraine. Tax preparation has now been placed under the category of "things I am willing to pay others to do for me". So, here's to our accountant. Do your thing, sir.

My Rainbow

Ok, so I had great plans of writing an amazing blog about my family's visit last month. It was going to be awesome! You were going to be blown away!

But, couldn't write it right away. I needed to "decompress" a little bit first. And now it's been long enough that I have had time to think about everything. And the awesome blog is no more. Instead you will get this:

First of all, the visit with my family was amazing. I cannot possibly convey what it meant to see the people closest to me come through the door at the airport. My family and I have a very close bond and it was delightful to introduce them to my new life here in Belgium. The weeks that they were here flew by and, all too soon, it was time for them to go.

Here is the thing that stands out to me, though. After dropping them off at the airport and returning home, I was very out of sorts. Not quite a complete mess yet, but well on my way. "T" and I got into an argument over who was going to go to market to get some items to go with dinner. My mood made it an argument. I lost. Did I mention it was POURING RAIN? Yes. My mood was not helped.

Just as I was returning home, the rain stopped and the sky cleared. Immediately. It was startling. Attention getting.

And there it was: a full rainbow. Complete. Beautiful.

A loving message from my Heavenly Father. In my heart, I could hear that still small voice whisper, "I'm still here. I didn't leave."

I had just put my earthly father (and mother) on a plane. They were gone. But my Heavenly Father was still with me. He always will be.

And that made all the difference.