Sunday Art

Sunday afternoon is a quiet time in this house. The 3 youngest generally have a nap. The 2 oldest find something quiet to do. Sometimes I take a nap, sometimes I read, sometimes I play a game with the 2 oldest.

On this particular Sunday I put all three to bed. Since all was quiet I decided to take a walk--taking my I-pod with me. Lindsay tagged along and Eric hung out with his dad at home. Just over an hour later I got home.

The 2 younger boys came upstairs and immediately I noticed that those 2 looked rather chipper--the typical groggy grumpiness that clings to them after they get up from a nap was strangely absent. A thousand alarm bells were going off in my bed. So I went downstairs, and THIS is what I found.....

I would have you know that I did not yell. I did not get mad. I did not lose my temper. I just stood there with my mouth hanging open. I came upstairs and that's when the boys were looking a little afraid...and defensive. The blaming each other started immediately, but I recognized the art work. The little one can't write letters in yellow and draw stick men and the older one is too advanced and proud to resort to scribbling. Really, the situation was easily remedied. Discipline was meted out. The boys were each given a wet rag and they knew exactly what to do.

Jessica

I would like you to meet Jessica. She is a little fish (who could very likely be a male for all I know) that belonged to my oldest girl. Lindsay loved this fish. In the entire time span of a whopping 4 1/2 weeks apparently they became inseparable. But today they are indeed separated--a sink drain, a maze of pipes and perhaps a unknown lake separate 2 dear friends. Today, after several days of mourning, I have been given permission to break the silence and tell the awful tale.

When Dan and I were in Mexico, Lindsay went out for a 'girls night out' with one of my friends. They came home with a little red beta fish, complete with bowl and food. The fish was promptly and lovingly named Jessica. Doesn't it look like a Jessica?

When we got home from holidays a few days later, I was rather surprised to find that we had acquired a new pet. But seeing as the work involved sprinkling a few bits of food on top of the water and cleaning the glass living quarters once a week, I really didn't mind. I had kept 5 kids alive so far...how hard would it be to keep a fish?

The fish thrived. Every morning Lindsay asked me if I had fed it yet. Sometimes she fed it, most of the time I did. Every week we diligently cleaned out the bowl. Things were going well.

Then...(I need a tuba to emit some sombre notes here) one morning it was time to clean out the fish bowl. All the children gathered around--some perched on the counter, others crowding around on chairs. I caught little Jessica and put her in a cup of water. I proceeded to soap out the bowl and as I was rinsing it out, the 3 year old felt he was purposely being denied a good viewing of the events. In anger, he grabbed the cup and hurled it and its precious contents into the sink.

There...there lay Jessica flapping helplessly right over top of the drain hole opening. I lunged at the little red fish, but she slipped...she slipped...
Down...

Down...

Down...

the drain.

It was silent. We all took some time to comprehend what exactly had just taken place. 5 heads peered into that sink simultaneously...10 eyes were riveted on the triple holed drain. In 15 seconds a friendship was shattered. (insert a very slow, dramatic violin piece here)

Lindsay responded first. Oh what came out of her in that moment can only be described as a hysterical wail. Oh how that girl sobbed. To make matters worse, one of her 'practical' brothers made comments that, well, were true, but oh, SO not helpful. ("Lindsay, you're not going to see your fish again...")

We had often talked to Lindsay earlier, warning her and explaining to her that generally fish do not live long. It took a bit but she did understand that the fish would die one day. Unfortunately, we forgot to warn her about the random spontaneity of a three year old's temper.

I felt quite badly for the girl. I took her to a separate place, held her and tried to talk to her. No, her fish was not dead. Water constantly goes down the drain and ends up in a big lake of some sort. Through her tears she asked me if Jessica would have enough food to eat. "Of course," I replied. "There is all kinds of bacteria and edible morsels down there." Next Lindsay asked if Jessica would be alone. I responded in the negative, telling her that I'm sure that there are more fish down there that will keep her company. WRONG ANSWER! A look of horror filled Lindsay's face. "Mom! Jessica is a Beta fish and if she she's another Beta fish they will fight...and I don't want Jessica to fight. She might die!" Well...I asked Lindsay if she remembered how big Pigeon Lake was. it was unlikely that Jessica could find another beta in SUCH a big lake. We kept talking and after about 30 minutes Lindsay calmed down.

We finally got settled to do school again. Lindsay opened her Math book and this is what she reads.....

Bill had 14 goldfish and 8 guppies in his fish tank. Bill has how many
more goldfish than guppies?

Then there was a picture of a whole bunch of fish swimming in a tank. Needless to say, the fragile seal broke and the water works came gushing out again.

Lindsay will be getting a new fish. We have asked, however, if she can wait until we have moved, just in case the new fish doesn't handle 'transport' well. Lindsay has agreed. Since then, she has faithfully spoken of her fish everyday. Such a friend is apparently not quickly forgotten.

And even I must admit that I miss the little fish too. The clean bowl is sitting in my room, the marbles still resting on the bottom of the glass bowl. I miss seeing Lindsay's excited reaction to the fish and I thought that it was a rather pretty fish too. Believe it or not...I'm already looking forward to having Jessica 2.

Pals

What once began as a rather strained and painful relationship has turned into an inseperable duo. Whether eating a cookie, or looking at a book together, these 2 will often be found sitting side by side. The 3 year old has even been known to jump into the playpen just to hang out with his little sister.

Poured Out

I wrote this piece a couple days ago. I wasn't sure whether to post it or tuck it away. Obviously I made a decision. This wasn't written to sound 'preachy' but rather stemmed from a realization that hit me square between the eyes. We are all so short sighted sometimes...

We go to work.

We clean our house.

We complain about the weather.

We update our facebook status.

We pay our bills.

We take a walk.

We raise our children.

We mow our lawn.

We visit friends.

We play a computer game.

Regular, daily life always before us; a thousand little things that make up our day. But there's a whole lot more going on in our day...many things we don't even realize...

Consider your parents who have poured themselves out for you on your behalf. They have prayed for you. They have, unbeknownst to you, battled Satan, the world, and your own unwilling sinful heart--all of which sought your eternal demise. Your parents faithfully kept you under the preaching of the Word. They drove you to catechism, week after week. They read and explained the Word to you from your earliest years. If you have godly parents I do not doubt that they STILL pray daily for you. Can you see, today, what a work was well underway for the sake of your soul before you even knew of the Lord? They have, and still do, pour themselves out on your behalf.

What of our pastor? What does he do week after week, day after day, year after year? He sits in his study for hours on end, studying, preparing sermons...for US. He visits us. He corrects and encourages us. Have you ever considered the hours that he has spent praying for us? Is that not humbling? As we go about our day, often selfishly and completely self absorbed, there is a man pouring himself out on our behalf, for our eternal well-being.

And our elders? They accept a job they are not trained to do. They leave their families and their warm comfortable homes evening after evening to strengthen and encourage YOU in the Word. Your elder takes time to pray for YOU. They take an interest in YOU for your eternal sake. They give their time, their fuel, their energy, their attention all for YOUR edification.

Do you realize that it's YOUR name that's being brought forth to the very gates of heaven? Yes, by your parents, your friends, your elder, your pastor. And while heaven is being stormed on our account, while people are working, pouring themselves out on our behalf, what are we doing? I'm not going to answer that. I daresay we're all far too wrapped up in this world and ourselves to realize the immensity of it all.

Consider our precious Lord Jesus Christ. He left the grandeur of heaven to dwell among men. Our Lord did heavenly work in the trappings of earthly flesh. He healed, comforted and rebuked. He, though often tired, taught those who hungered for TRUTH. Every second on this earth He poured Himself out for sinful man...for US.

Then, after perfectly pouring Himself out for us, after perfectly following His Father's will, he was forsaken--by the Father, by the disciples, by His followers, and if we were there, we would have forsaken Him too. He travelled the road of the cross alone. He felt the full wrath of God, right down to its very dregs. And now, no hell...for us.
Dissolve my heart in thankfulness
And melt mine eyes to tears.

And the Holy Spirit--how aware are you of this blessed Person? The Holy Spirit who wrestles with us day after day... How sad (and ridiculous) when we think the Holy Spirit can be summoned--perhaps in worship or when we're feeling especially chipper. Do you ever think of the Lord? That is the work of the Holy Spirit. Do your sins ever overwhelm, discourage or disgust you? That is the work of the Holy Spirit. Do you feel compelled to pray? That is the work of the Holy Spirit. Do you cling to Christ? It is because the Holy Spirit has taken your hand and joined it to Christ. The Holy Spirit strives with you every day. He was poured out...for YOU.

Today our precious Christ still continues His work for us. He who has His Father's ear and affections...the Exalted One whom is praised by ten thousand times ten thousand heavenly beings,

"Worthy is the Lamb who was slain to receive
power and riches and wisdom and strength and
honour and glory and blessing!"

He who sits on the throne, equal to his Father, still pours Himself out on our behalf. He prays for us...yes, He utters our name in the presence of God and the angels! Does this not move you?!

Oh sing and pray and read and meditate! Berate your slothful heart for being so consumed with itself. Oh what pains are being made daily on OUR behalf, unbeknownst and often unrecognized as we go about our daily business. So much work...so much effort...so many pouring themselves out for you and me. Let it not be in vain! let it not be counted against you on that Great Day. Fall down and PRAY! Then pour yourself out for others and for the Lord. What other response can there be?