love covers a multitude of... sons

Goodness, did I ever have a lousy night's sleep!

I felt like I was "jacked up on mountain dew" until about 1am, then slept fitfully for the next few hours.  I woke up throughout the early morning hours, fully alert, without anything on my mind.  By 5:45 I was bleary-eyed but ready for the day, so I opened up God's Word to see what He had on His mind this early morning.

"The righteous has enough to satisfy his appetite, But the stomach of the wicked is in need."

(Proverbs 13:25)

Sometimes a single verse is all I need to claim and sustain me through a long day.  On this specifically lengthy (and sleep-deprived) day, Matt and I went over to the house we are presently in escrow on.  We've been so excited about this single story ranch house on two acres, with horse properties on all sides.  But while the house and property are EVERYTHING we've wanted, the flooring, bathrooms and kitchen are all a bit dated.  So we've spent the last few weeks swinging by Lowes' flooring department, furniture stores, and surfing the web for decorating ideas.  Which is why we were so eager to walk through the home again today - eager to measure and size things up for our dreamy remodel.  

And then came this morning's scripture:

"The righteous has enough to satisfy his appetite, But the stomach of the wicked is in need."

(Proverbs 13:25)

Matt and I desperately want to live within our means.  We desire to live with a realistic understanding of our finances; our spending, giving, and saving goals.  We know we like accumulating nice things, right along with the rest of our culture, but we also know that we don't want to be driven by a foolish appetite.  

We want to be satisfied with what we have.  

I spent the morning hours humming Jim Brickman's tune, In This Very Room.  And as we walked throughout the home the lyrics played in my head and heart.  

And in this very room there's quite enough love for all of us,

And in this very room there's quite enough joy for all of us,

And there's quite enough hope and quite enough power to chase away any gloom,

For Jesus, Lord Jesus ... is in this very room.

We might not have the money to do any updates for quite some time, but the house is wonderful.  The love, the joy, the hope and power of God will surely fill each and every room...  even the outdated ones.

I gave thanks during our time at the house today.  

I caught a vision of the joy and love, and the ministry that will flow from it.  

I envisioned the boys growing and laughing and learning beneath those popcorn ceilings... though realistically I know my husband will find the means to have them scraped before we move in.  

And last of all, I told the Lord that I'd rather be satisfied in Him and with Him, than always hungry for more.  

Ladies, let's do this.  Let's guard our hearts and our appetites from the vanity and pride and discontent that rules the foolish.  Let us live right.  Satisfied.  Grateful.

"Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all my days."

(Psalm 90:14)

As I walked through the aisles of Target one recent afternoon I passed a young couple holding hands and looking intently at what was before them on the shelf. The words “extra pleasure” and “ribbed” caught my eye right around the time I heard the young man say, “They’re expensive.”  He then gently but firmly lead his girlfriend away.

Turns out the same couple was in front of me in the check out line. They had a couple of sodas, and that was it. I put up my plastic divider and then unloaded from my shopping cart six pairs of Summer weight PJs for the boys, four new swim trunks, a swim shirt for my littlest guy, water bottles, toilet paper, a few cleaning supplies, tooth paste and floss, and a couple of water toys for our upcoming vacation. The couple walked out still holding hands long before my total came up. 296 dollars and 49 cents. I wanted to chase that boy down and show him my receipt… “and you think birth control is expensive?”

There are so many directions I could take today's post after that story. I could write a commentary on today’s sexually active youth, bemoan the cost of raising children, the challenge of being a good steward of our finances… but since that simple shopping scene I’ve thought of just one word. Prayer.

We need to keep praying for our boys. They are growing up into men right before our eyes. At 4, 6, and 8 mine already know they’ve got some awesome equipment down there!   At least one of them comes to my room with growing pains nearly each night. Their baby faces are hardening with sharper features, and they talk about whom their going to marry, where they’ll live and what they’ll do. (Today the stories all revolve around them opening a blacksmith store together to make ninja weapons.)  But more than far-fetched ninja dreams, they’re showing their manliness in tangible ways too.  All three of them have got some serious leg hair!

At 4 years old, Asher likely has more testosterone pumping through his little body than the other two put together! When he discovered his leg hair he exclaimed “I have whiskers on my legs and I like it. It’s awesome! I’m going to be a big man. The biggest man, ever!” Brody, however, cried, “I don’t want to be a man! I want to stay your baby forever!” Well as sweet as that may be to this Mama’s heart, it just isn’t going to happen. They are all going to grow up! And they’re going to have girlfriends and feel all sorts of crazy feelings run through their bodies when they lay their eyes on a “hot” girl for the first time.  It will happen. And so I continue to pray.

“How can a young man keep his way pure? By living according to your word” (Psalm 119:9)

I remember those late night nursing sessions, stroking my first-born’s hair and softly muttering scripture and prayers over him as he was nourished in more ways than one. Often my prayers would be for his purity, I’d pray for his future wife and that their courtship would be pure and fun.

"Let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not loose heart.”

So many of my posts include the above verse.

Let us not cease from praying for our children and their purity. Let us live pure lives before them, by God’s grace.  Let us give testimony to our children that God’s word is true, as we tuck his Word into their lives and challenge them to live according to it.  And let us speak the truth in love about what the world will tell them, and how the world will seduce them.  

While I didn't run out after that young couple, with my receipt flapping in the wind like a banner above my head, you can bet I'll run after these little men.  Figuratively.  Prayerfully.  

Let us not grow weary.  Let us pray...

As we prepare to bring our children home to educate them next year, my reasons are becoming clearer to me on a daily basis.  I have no confusion or fear - okay, maybe a healthy amount of trepidation - but have instead been overcome with a thrilling sense of peace, much inspiration, and excitement.

I'm even eager to communicate with family and friends, critics and strangers alike, when they ask me "Why?  Why are you choosing to homeschool your kids?"  Therefore, because I am so enjoying answering their questions, I thought I'd post my reasons here.

Why are we "bringing our children home"?  

- I love the term "bringing our children home."  Sally and Clay Clarkson use the phrase  in their book Educating the Wholehearted Child, and the words have truly taken root in my heart.  First of all, I feel that I'm left with just a few left over hours, five days a week, to put out fires.  They come home from school with attitudes, words, and hearts that need correcting and loving, and there is simply not enough time.  Not to mention the academic needs that need tending too for my boy who has a hard time learning in a classroom setting.  And so I am caught in the heart by the phrase, the need, the sentiment... to bring them home.

- My first born originally begged me (4 years ago) to stay home with his brothers and me during his preschool years.  I'd only signed him up for two short mornings a week but he asked simply and often, "why can't you just be my teacher?"  It was a simple enough question and so I started to pray that God would confirm that it was the right move for our family as a whole, as I had just had my third baby boy in 4 short years.  On the coattail of his question and my prayers, my child said, "I just want to be with you and my brothers."  So I pulled him from preschool and began the fun of teaching him to read and write, bake, color, and sing.  While we chose to put him into a private school come Kindergarten, I had caught the homeschooling vision early on.

- By first grade my first born was struggling to focus, even in his small Private classroom with only 8 students.  Praise be he had a marvelous teacher who worked with each child individually to find their learning modality and love language (things we mothers know instinctively but most teachers are never able to assess due to sheer class size and work load.)   With much individualized care he excelled with Ms. M and his small class of peers.  

- This year has been much different for son #1.  While he's a bright chid and learns easily when focused,  in a classroom with now 20 students and a teacher who doesn't go over assignments one on one with him, he is flailing academically.  He loves the social aspect of his school and thrives personally with lots of activity, but learning is nearly impossible in that environment.  And so we spend the little bit of time we do have at home each evening, learning what was supposed to be caught in class.

- At the same time, just down the hall, my second born has struggled in his own way in his three day Kindergarten class.  While he has taken huge leaps both socially and academically over the last couple of months especially, his heart still pounds noticeably within his chest each day I drop him off at school.

- The boys all love good books, both being read to and, for my eldest, reading.  They enjoy listening to music and learning to play it.  They enjoy building forts and putting on shows for us at home.  They dream of starting companies, creating a farm, selling their own produce and turning a profit.  They are little Renaissance men.  I always thought I could supplement their school education with music lessons, gardening, and creative play, but I  am finding there isn't enough time for it all.  I know these boys.  I know the things they enjoy and ways they could learn while excelling in their own individualized passions and interests... but there's just not the time for it all.

- 90% of the days I pick the boys up from school they end up in a quiet time-out as we drive home because they are rude to one another, disrespectful toward me, tired and angry.  Because we're always running to a swim lesson or music lesson we seem to never get to the heart of the matter and only correct poor behavior.   I'm a firm believer that it's their hearts that need our attention, not their behavior. Their behavior stems from the condition of their heart... and after a long day away from home... the soil isn't well conditioned... it's rocky... and seeds struggle to to take root.

- Not only do my boys love literature... i do too.  I love to read to them and ask them thought provoking questions.  Once again, it's hard to find the time to do all of the things our family VALUES, when we are sending them away from home for the majority of their week.  And so... and so I am excited to BRING THEM HOME to learn.  I'm eager to not just get to their intellects, but delve into their hearts, and spirits, and unique Passions.  

This week Caleb is working on memorizing Ephesians 2:10, my favorite verse from the past few years.

For we are God's workmanship,

created in Christ Jesus for good works,

that God prepared in advance for us to walk in.  

Not only do I believe that Bringing My Boys Home to educate them is one of those Good Works... those God Works prepared in advance for me to do, but I think that the boys will have a better understanding of their own unique design if they are educated with individualized care as we keep our eyes open for good works together.

A side note, the individual Greek word that we translate "workmanship" is Poema, from whence we get our word Poem.  We are, in essence, God's Poem to the world we live in.  Penned in the red blood of Christ.  A love note to those around us.  

I see home education not as a bubble to avoid the world, but as safe haven to prepare for ministry to the world.  God made us, and our children, for good works that are out there... let us purpose to prepare for those individual and anointed works that He prepared for us to walk in.  

Super excited to share my heart with all who ask these days.  

A special hello to those who are stopping by from Women Living Well and Heavenly Homemakers.  If you would like to follow along our journey at LOVECOVERS, register as a member or subscribe for email updates on the sidebar.  It's a pleasure to have you stop by.

It's been well over a week since I posted here at "Love Covers a Multitude of Sons" because, well honestly, loving my sons as taken every bit of my time, strength, and energy these past busy weeks. 

Just like you, In the midst of the business, I long to love my Multitude fresh each day. For me, beginning each morning in God's Word is paramount for the filling, the sustenance, and the endurance required.  It doesn't always happen first thing in our home, where boys are usually up by 5:45 each morning, ready for milk as they play with their action figures - but I do try to sneak away in the early part of each day.  

One day last week, in the middle of the madness, my husband volunteered to take our oldest to school.  The two little ones enjoyed a morning of legos and sticker books and so I stole away.  I showered, dressed, made my bed, and opened up my Bible. (Okay, so I opened up the Bible App on my iphone.)  It took me straight to where I'd left off the day before.  Psalm 119.  

Since beginning my time in the Psalms a couple of weeks ago I have been looking forward to this particular one.  I've loved this Chapter since High School, and was eager to read it again and apply it in fresh ways to my life in this unique season.  Alas... I was brain dead as I read through the first few verses.  I stopped, prayed, and started all over again.  Then again.  And again.  Finally I closed my Bible (a.k.a. turned my phone off)  and the words of my Pastor echoed in my mind, "Did you come here to hear from the Lord this morning?"  

I nodded, eyes shut, in prayerful response to the question.  "Yes," I breathed my answer.  

The phone rang as though on cue. I hesitated, not wanting to discard these hard to find stolen moments, but knew Matt would be calling soon.  So I answered, "Hello?"  It was my dear friend Bonni on the other end.  We only speak 2 - 3 times a year, but each conversation is loaded with laughter, tears, and deep encouragement.  The timing couldn't have been more ideal.

As we talked about our days, and lives, and children, she said "I spend 90% of my mothering time and energy on my two boys.  The three girls... their needs just aren't as constant as the boys.  They have their issues, they're just not as loud about them."  we laughed together and then she went on to drop this hard earned pearl,  "The boys never stop pushing boundaries and testing what's right, but instead of getting upset or frustrated I've started praising God for each opportunity to instruct my boys.  It's so easy to grumble and nag and abuse them with our words over long days spent together, but I've come to see each time they push a boundary as a chance for me to correct them, instruct them, and disciple them."

For the rest of that day, and these past weeks, each time my boys have spoken nasty words to one another, cried for one another's things, or used their hands or feet in anger, I praised God (as I took a deep breath,) and thanked Him for another blessed opportunity to train my boys up in the way they should go.  

Grace.  Applied.  The Bible.  Applied.  With Flesh on.

Thank you, Bonni.  

Photo curtesy of Tammy Labuda Photography in the greater Dallas, TX. area.

"The fact is, a work of literature should give us ourselves idealized and in a dream, all we wished to be but could not be, all we hoped for but missed. True literature rounds out our lives, gives us consolations for our failures, rebuke for our vices, suggestions for our ambition, hope, and love, and appreciation. To do that it should have truth, nobility, and beauty in a high degree, and our first test of a work of literature should be to ask the three questions, Is it beautiful? Is it true? Is it noble?"  (Sherwin Cody, The Art of Writing and Speaking the English Language, 1906)

My boys get all amped up at bedtime.  While I fancy myself a wordsmith, there are NO WORDS TO DESCRIBE THE CHAOS THAT ENSUES EACH AND EVERY NIGHT!  No matter how I tweak their bedtime routine, what time we move upstairs, what combination of children I put together in a room, what books we read or songs we sing, it always spirals into tears and fears and pleas for MORE!  And I am wiped out.  

If you've read more than a handful of my posts then you know my mothering-mantra:  

"Let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart!"  (Galatians 6:9)

And so I persevere in love and with love; loving words, loving boundaries, loving prayers, loving encouragement, loving consequences... love love love.

But tonight they didn't just fight me, they fought one another as well.  I split them up and sent them to different rooms.  (ding ding ding - to your corners!)  I loved on each of them separately, speaking truth and challenges, forgiveness and grace into their young hearts.  To Caleb I exhorted him to be a peacemaker instead of a trouble maker.  He responded, "I was mad that Brody called me a jerk... but he was right... I was being a jerk.  Why do I always do what I don't want to do?"

I've stopped counting the times my eldest has unknowingly quoted Scripture to me.  

"I do not understand what I do.

For what I want to do I do not do,

but what I hate I do."  (Romans 7:15)

We sat together in silence for a few moments as I tickled his back with my fingers.  He asked why my fingers were so soft and I told him I've been using lotion.  "I like it when they are dry" he said, "they tickle better that way."

I rubbed a few more moments and then asked him to tell me the verse he memorized this week. These words poured over his lips:

"You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly... But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5:6&

"Caleb," I gently whispered, "you were a jerk tonight.  What's more, you're powerless to do anything about it.  But God demonstrated his own love for you in this: even though he knew you'd treat your brothers this way tonight, Christ died for you."

"And since you have believed in Christ and received His forgiveness, you can trust that He is here now, strengthening you to do a better job next time your brother is being unkind to you.  God loved you even though you are a sinner...  He will help you learn to love Brody when Brody is sinning against you.  What do you think about that?  Can you demonstrate your own love toward Brody by loving him when he's being unkind to you?"

"I want to... I want to be a peace maker" was his simple reply.

I have a category of blog posts on the sidebar called "The hard days."  This post will be listed there. For I am amazed, time and again amazed, what deep, rich, soil toiling and seed planting lessons are taught on these difficult days with my boys.  

Say it with me, breath it in and pour it out in your own prayers, "Let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart."  

‎"When my kids become wild and unruly, I use a nice, safe playpen. When they're finished, I climb out." - Erma Bombeck

We are in the process of searching for a new home... more specifically a property where the boys can go when they need to be "wild and unruly."  We've long dreamt of a place where our boys can be boys; to romp, explore, imagine, grow, claim and tame.  A wild piece of their own wilderness to exercise dominion over.  Here in Southern California such pieces of property are a little further inland and in the mountains.    

Yesterday we visited a beautiful home on 4 such acres, covered in boulders and native plants, sporting views all the way to Catalina Island on a clear day.  

Here is a picture of our free spirited middle child whom I imagine reading upon one of these massive fort-rocks in the years to come.  This specific rock is surrounded by the gorgeous purple cones that bloom from Spring to Fall and help deliver that majestic appearance of "purple mountain majesty." 

To get to this rock he walked by three raised planters on a level area above the home. Every bit of everything here felt perfect to me - even the planters.  You see, I've been promising the boys each a planting box of their own to cultivate at our next home, just as Jo's boys were able to do in our last novel, "Little Men" by Louisa May Alcott. Caleb wants to grow strawberries and sweet peas, Brody wants a great big grapevine, and Asher wants to grow sugar snap peas and pumpkins.

I stood between two of these perfectly ordained planters and snapped this picture of Brody.  Afterwards he jumped down and ran off to explore more with his brothers and I walked slowly back toward the house.  After taking another tour of the inside I came back to the leveled garden to dream again and take in the views.  As I walked between the same two garden boxes I was met by the sudden rattle of a great big rattlesnake,  three feet in front of me, at the base of this rock where Brody had been.

Of course I knew not to run and not to scream, I knew it in my head.  But run and scream I did - right past our real-estate agent Paige.  She ran in my wake until we were far far away.  

Now look at that rock!  I'm not so naive to think there weren't rattlesnakes around these bolder laden hills, I just thought we'd see 1 or 2 in the next 10 years, not the very first day we came to explore a possible home.  Needless to say, I'm rattled. (pun intended)  LIterally shaken. I barely slept last night and when I did sleep my dreams were filled with snakes, tarantulas, bobcats, and other mountain dangers.  I awoke from my fitful sleep at 5 this morning with Psalm 91 going through my mind.

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High

will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress,

my God, in whom I trust.”

Surely he will save you

from the fowler’s snare

and from the deadly pestilence.

He will cover you with his feathers,

and under his wings you will find refuge;

his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

You will not fear the terror of night,

nor the arrow that flies by day,

nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,

nor the plague that destroys at midday...

If you say, “The LORD is my refuge,”

and you make the Most High your dwelling,

no harm will overtake you,

no disaster will come near your tent.

For he will command his angels concerning you

to guard you in all your ways;

they will lift you up in their hands,

so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

You will tread on the lion and the cobra;

you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

“Because he loves me,” says the LORD, “I will rescue him;

I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.

He will call on me, and I will answer him;

I will be with him in trouble,

I will deliver him and honor him.

With long life I will satisfy him

and show him my salvation.”

Since reading and re-reading Psalm 91 over my steaming cup of lavender tea this morning, I'm still at a quandary.  Where do trust and discernment intermingle?  Where do they marry, becoming smart yet faith-filled choices in this dangerous world?  My tea cup this morning displayed the quote, "Let the Peace of God rule in your heart."  But that begs the question: where is peace found in a dangerous world?

You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast,

because he trusts in You.  (Isaiah 26:3)

If our hearts are stayed on Him, trusting His loving care and protection, no matter where we move or what we do, He will accompany us.  Even when disease, storm, pestilence, or predators surround us.  That said, He also desires us to seek wisdom; to make choices that usher in some measure of safety for our loved ones.  It's a walk of faith as we learn to trust and discern.  

A faith walk among rattlers!