"Treasure" boxes

My little fellas each had a shoebox in which to put "treasures" and those boxes have now graduated to Sterilite Storage drawers. Their treasures are a smorgasbord from things they have created to things they have purchased out of bubble gum machines to tiny objects earned from their school's treasure chest. I do understand the concepts which make these things valuable ( I too, had a treasure shoebox as a child and am the one who introduced this to my little scavengers). However as the mother now, unfortunately my agenda has creeped in and these things can be somewhat irritating at times especially when not nicely kept in their respective drawer on vacuuming day! I didn't quite realize exactly how much I lost comprehension of their importance until yesterday evening.

Dax's class is celebrating their 100th day of school on Monday and they have been instructed to bring in a collection of 100 things. So each day he and I have been adding 20 or so items to a gallon size Ziploc bag. We began with the treasure drawer because it is a bountiful place to find 100 small things. As I held the bag open for him, he sorted through each thing deciding if it was interesting enough to take to school but not too special to remain secured in the recesses of the drawer. Watching him hold each item and recount where he got it, the special mark that told him it was his (he and Colton have some of the same things), how he made it/earned it, down to how it may have been scratched/broken, etc. was a great exercise for me. Even though to me some of them are still technically pieces of trash (cutouts from magazines that he did at preschool), I remember that their value is so much more than the maximum 25 cents that he paid for them.

As I sat astounded that he remembered so many details about each one, the reflection was revealed and I realized that I had a lot in common with these little "treasures". For in and of myself there isn't what most would call valuable; I recognize my minuteness (especially after watching the Crazy Love video), there is more spiritual trash in me than I am often willing to admit, and I have been "chipped", am scratched up in places and just plain worn out in others. I am not what many would treasure or try to keep up with but I rest in knowing that One does. He knows when I sit and when I rise, is familiar with all my ways, and hems me in. (Psalm 139). How do I return that love as I am also nothing but dust (Psalm 103:14)? Speechless that he has compassion on my form.

The precious 12 days...

are not the 12 days of Christmas for my husband. We are approaching one of David's favorite times of the year. You would think after the 10 1/2 years of marriage with the 5 1/2 years of dating prior, his affection for these days would have worn down. But oh no, it has only grown stronger! "To which 12 days are you referring, Farah?" "Ah, the the 12 in mid-January when I am, for this brief time, 2 years older than him. As we have aged, I often forget he is younger than me with his wisdom, his wonderful leadership of our family, and the amazing way he loves me and our children-- until that is, these days began their approach. I know their presence is eminent when I experience events such as the following:

While reviewing a life lesson we had seen on a show earlier in the morning, I said to the boys, "Remember, boys, it is good to listen to and take advice from those who are older" and from behind me, my loving husband adds, "and there aren't many older than mommy..." or something to that effect! Oh, one of the reasons I love him so is his humor!

Education

If you had asked me 15 years ago what my thoughts on education were, you would have gotten a very driven answer from a high school student who was doing her best to stay in the top 10 and work her way into a good college--the best college---Auburn!

If you had questioned me again 3 1/2 years later, you would have gotten another driven answer about its necessity to life from a Master's student trying to compete to stay in a program as well as retain so much overload that she could get through comps without passing out.

As I have grown and through David and I developing our family values my views on education have progressed as well. You will not find in in the list. My ultimate hope is that my boys will be learners and self-taught more than educated. My hope in them learning to read is more so they will love the Word, math more for being good stewards of what they have and problem solving mastery, etc. Dax right now is learning to write in kindergarten, along with sight words and math concepts. But the other night he asked to practice with his new snowman pen I bought. So while I was cooking supper he wrote the first line...showed it to me... and I wrote back...etc. Mind you, he's never written notes in class, but I have... and this experience was greater than any yes/no box situation I ever had. He had no idea what this did to my heart and words can't express; he was just writing openly, vulnerably and I wanted to somehow keep it forever. This was the best way I could think to document it. Entirely new view of education.

I Love the Little Joys of the Christmas Season

What does it say about you if you REALLY want to play with the toys you are wrapping? What if you are the mom and the toys are NERF and Star Wars? ;)

Added note: Holiday Goldfish are almost as cool as other little Christmas joys like Little Debbie tree cakes! (especially when you are taking care of a feverish boy and you both need a little fun)

With Age Comes....Humor?!?!?!?

I have several friends who joke about not aging past 39, some past 29. And I have to admit, looking too long in the mirror and discovering the wrinkles and the gray hair is a little disconcerting. As well as watching friends and even my parents age. But in watching the boys, their friends, and some of my "speechies", I have come to a realization that with age also comes humor and joy. Doing the joke of the day clued me in to just how much Dax and Cole have not developed the life experience to understand some of the comparisons or play on words needed to get a joke. It also clued me in to how much more they knew that I had not realized they knew. Sarcasm and humor are developing within a little girl with whom I am working and beginning to drive her parents and siblings crazy because she does not quite know how to use it, but directing them to steer her in appropriate forms of humor have really helped the whole family. We have some other friends who have entered the Knock-Knock stage of life (their girls are 3 & 5) and have now banned them because of their overwhelming frequency, moving on to other joking methods. All of this to say, I have realized there are things that are hilarious to me at 32 that might have made me hide away and cry at 25. So in this life, where there is trouble, God gives us the ability to laugh and I am grateful. Not only does he give us the ability to laugh, he also uses the trouble to make the laughter times that much better. I choose to age and go past 39 with gusto, smile hard so there are thousands of wrinkles around my eyes and mouth, and get rid of all the mirrors in my house (o.k. maybe that is going a little too far!!)

"Gray hair is a crown of splendor; it is attained by a righteous life." Proverbs 16:31

"..decay crept into my bones, ...yet I will rejoice in the LORD, I will be joyfully in God my Savior." - Habakkuk 3:4 ( I want this, I choose this, but only He can succeed this in me.)

Your Eyes

My newest favorite song is "Give me Your Eyes" by Brandon Heath. I definately need His eyes for others but in listening to it in carline alone awaiting Colton pick-up, as He gave me what I prayed for, He also directed my gaze a little differently. I have been pretty down on my external appearance and a few other things lately, but He helped me see that I am one of those "humanity" that I want to love with His love.

Complaining vs. praising--being positive

I have in the last few months been attempting to go against the grain of the world and praise more instead of complaining. I have seldom been one who went to the customer services department often or sent orders back in restaurants because I haven't been one to even really speak my mind when irritated. I don't want to offend or engage in conflict, but I haven't actively praised or noted when someone did a good job.

It started at the bank when a drive thru teller remembered that I had two boys and asked if they wanted me to bring them suckers when theywere not with me and I was driving the X-terra (David's usual mode of transportation). See, I had that in Wetumpka, but not in Auburn or Orting or Millbrook or Cumming. So I called her supervisor and let her know!!!! Then we were switching garbage carriers so we would not have to take our can all the way to the end of our lane; found one that came down to our driveway. I got so aggrivated with our former garbage service during this process, but I called and left a thankful message with the new one instead because of the way they were handling us with care. This has continued at the store, returned to the bank and flowed into a couple of restaurants who have served me and my two testosterone filled children. I have enjoyed it immensely until I received a gently prod in the heart a couple of days ago that doing it in the outside world is good but how about at home? Once again He caught me in my self-adoration and gave me His glimpse. I want to do this more with David and the boys and so I am TRYING to go into my days (only last two) looking for things to praise and thank, because I think I had taken up residency in their "customer service departments" with my white gloves on waiting to motivate and correct.

Walking at a cemetary

There is a cemetary near Colton's preschool with a nicely paved road through it and to save time and gas while getting some excercise, I have walked there several times recently while he is in school. For some, walking in a cemetary would be wierd and possibly spooky but elderly people have been a large part of my entire life therefore making funerals and cemetary visits regular as well. This particular cemetary intrigues me. For many newer ones, there are rules that must be followed as to what type of headstone is allowed; what flowers are recommended; etc. --much like H.O.A.s. Those are good keeping everything cared for and uniform. But here it is well-kept but allows so much variety. There are headstones of all sizes from tall statues to simple flat markers, from the Civil War soldier markers to wide marble monuments covering entire families. I also love that they are allowed to have hanging baskets on curved stakes or solor powered light stakes or potted plants - pretty much whatever is wanted. One even has a stone bench signifying pretty frequent and long visiting to the place by a loved one. Each one is a celebration of the life that once inhabited the empty body beneath as well as the lives of the generations in which that life invested its earthly time. Cemetaries have stories to tell that are often missed in the hustle and bustle of life. Some are of sadness and loss of early life like that of entire family killed in a train wreck in 1964 (both parents and 5 kids ranging from 16 yrs. old to toddler age). Other stories are of love and memories. One quote I saw stated: "Memories of the past shall stay to bring joy despite the sorrow."