Friday, June 28, 2013

 Four bowls of oatmeal

I lined four bowls up on my counter this morning. I methodically put a spoon in each one. We slept in, and this morning task was very relaxed. Our summer days have been packed full, but still retain an element of relaxation and freedom that is more welcomed than I can say.

In all honesty, each summer tends to give us a jolt into the reality of everyone being together and spending hours on end *trying* to get along. It definitely has required more of me, as I am often wanted and/or needed in roughly 4 different directions at any given time. :) I know this adjusting and higher level of neediness is far from unique to me. I know that many are pulled in more directions than 4, but this is me - and where God is leading and teaching.

I plopped a spoonful of oatmeal into each of the four mismatched bowls. Some mornings the complaints of how *starving* they are and how it is taking *too long* to come through for their wasting away stomachs frustrates the bajeebees out of me. 

This morning I paused. 

I have to change my thinking in order to be the woman I was meant to be.

I have to take charge of my perspectives if I am to love with the depth I am called to love.

With each plop of oatmeal I thought about the great privilege it is to be raising four, four, boys! It's so rarely quiet in my home. But, what would I do with the quiet if it were here? Would it be an aching quiet, reminding me of what wasn't to be? Would it be a deafening quiet, feeding longings of my heart?

I think it would. 

So I thought about the longings and the noise. 
The demands and those days that drain me of every ounce of… everything. 
I contemplated the sticky fingers and the hugs.

Lately I have been dealing with some tough fits of rage from K. He can be the sweetest little man at times, and then he doesn't get his way and there is this complete turn around. He has yet to master the skill of being able to control his disappointment and displeasure when things are not *exactly* as he thinks they should be. As he gets older it has been more and more of a challenge. Add to that the fact that most often it is in a public place where he is faced with these disappointments, and you can begin to grasp my challenge. 

I thought about the challenges of special needs parenting and the utter inadequacies I feel.

And as the final touches went into the oatmeal (That little shake-a-shake of the cinnamon and sugar…) I reminded myself of 

The privilege
The calling
The joy
The responsibility

Sunday morning in our Sunday school we had a time for prayer requests. I asked for prayer that I would make the most of these days with all of my boys home. That I would see all of the opportunities to lead these little hearts to Jesus. That I wouldn't miss it…..

 I think people have been praying- because my heart is in it more and more. Although challenges continue to abound (hello, life here on earth), I have found my ability to take that moment.

That moment to change my thinking.
That moment to see a heart not an inconvenience.

I'm writing it down because I forget so easily. :) 


Lynda Halliger Otvos (Lynda M O) said...

Keep writing and keep remembering. They are indeed a challenge, kids, and yet we are so blessed to have them in our lives.

Andrea said...

Beautiful reflections Wendi!