Resting on God

O God most High most glorious,
The thought of Thine infinite serenity cheers me,
For I am toiling and moiling, troubled and distressed,
     but Thou art forever at perfect peace.
Thy designs cause Thee no fear or care of unfulfillment,
     they stand fast as the eternal hills.
Thy power knows no bond,
Thy goodness no stint.

Thou bringest order out of confusion,
     and my defeats are Thy victories;
The Lord God omnipotent reigneth.

I come to Thee as a sinner with cares and sorrows,
     to leave every concern entirely to Thee,
     every sin calling for Christ's precious blood.

Revive deep spirituality in my heart;
Let me live near to the Good Shepherd,
     hear His voice, know its tones, follow its calls.
Keep me from deception by causing me to abide in the truth,
     from harm by helping me to walk in the power of the Spirit.

Give me intenser faith in the eternal verities,
     burning into me by experience the things I know;
Let me never be ashamed of the gospel,
     that I might bear its reproach,
        vindicate it,
        see Jesus as its essence,
        know in it the power of the Spirit.

Lord help me for I am often lukewarm and chill;
     unbelief mars my confidence,
     sin makes me forget Thee.

Let the weeds that grow in my soul be cut at their roots;
Grant me to know that I truly live only when I live to Thee;
     that all else is trifling.

Thy presence alone can make me holy, devout, strong and happy.
Abide in me, gracious God.

--The Valley of Vision

The Girls' Latest Interests

"Mommy, you play people with me?"  I get asked that question umpteen times in a day.  I try to comply whenever I can.  Courtney loves her Little People.  She has a bucket that she carries them around in.  Every one has a name associated to a family member.

 

 

 

Sadly, this one has been rejected by Courtney.  I don't know why.  She just insists, "This NOT my people!"  We have tried to sneak this guy into her bucket, but she is adamant and the poor guy goes flying across the room as soon as she discovers that he has infiltrated her chosen ones.

 

Lindsay has a book that shows her how to draw animals.  I pulled out the white board this evening and she happily went about practicing her drawing.  She didn't want music on because she had to concentrate.

At the end of the evening she made an ocean scene.  When I asked if I could take a picture of it to put on my blog she was MORE than pleased.

Bedtime Stories

Yesterday evening it was Seth's turn to pick the bedtime story.  He was having a VERY hard time picking between these 6 options.  If you look closely, 4 of these options are tractor brochures from a dealership.

 

 

Nothing Good Happens at 3 AM

There is a really sweet little girl who always plays nicely.  She goes to bed on time and wakes up at a decent time in the morning.  She never steals food out of the pantry or watches TV at 3 in the morning.  She never climbs onto the washing machine or raids the art cabinet.  She never eats markers or strips naked in the middle of the afternoon.  She never soaks clean towels in the bathroom sink either.  I'm not making this up.  That sweet little girl certainly does exist. She just does NOT live in this house.

As I lay in my bed last night a sound awakened me--a squeal of delight which overshadowed the low drone of the TV.  Courtney!  I looked at my alarm clock.  It was 3 am.

I got up to investigate. All the lights in the living room were on.  The fireplace was burning and the Treehouse was on.  But worse, she had pulled out the paints and had painted a portion of my kitchen floor--a lovely plethora of red, blue, green, brown and yellow. By the way, that would be FINGER painting.  I grabbed a rag and started scrubbing right away before it dried as Courtney went about her leisure.  Come to think of it, it probably would have been easier to clean after it had dried.  It was washable after all.  But who thinks straight at 3am?

Meanwhile I noticed that Courtney getting some water from the pantry and heading downstairs. I quickly follow her with my intent to intervene.  I caught her just in time to see her pour a cup of water all over her bed. Yes, you read that correctly.  She poured a cup of WATER all over her mattress, her sheets and pillow.  She obviously had been doing this for awhile because her bed and pillow were SOAKED. She pointed at the bed with a smirk on her face and says, "Look mom, I do that." Well, that was immediate cause for disciplinary action.  I didn't care WHO was going to wake up.

 I turned the mattress over end for end, gave Courtney her blanky and told her to go to sleep. I headed back upstairs to finish cleaning the paint mess and discover out the barn bins are rattling.  This simply means that one of the feed bins were empty and someone has to go outside and open up the other bin so that the chickens have feed.

 So I head outside in my bathrobe to change the bins out. Finally I get back to bed and just lay there for an hour and a half.  So much for sleeping.  Grrrrrrrrr!  Now I did, however, get something accomplished in that 90 minutes.  I decided that the next day I was going to make an area in the playroom for Lindsay to sleep and then I was going to buy a lock to ensure Courtney stayed PUT at night.  These nightly escapades of hers were occurring...well, nightly lately.  And believe it or not, I appreciate sleep. 

So today we did exactly that.  Now who's laughing?

A Day Without Water

Lindsay: Mom, how long can a person live without water?
Me: About 3 days.
Lindsay: Oh good!  Then we have some time yet! (she's skipping and is pretty upbeat).
Paul: Time for what?
Lindsay: Oh, we have some time yet before we die.

Today, for more than half of the day, we had no water.  The chickens, thankfully, had access to water (though at low pressure) but the house had none. 

We contacted a plumber. He said he'd be by between 10 and 2. The first problem presented itself early enough....8 people in this house and 3 toilets that don't flush....

I proceeded to take snow from outside and melt it on the stove. Then I took that water and poured it into the toilet tanks so we could flush periodically.

Needless to say, that got old really fast so I improvised and just took water out of the hot tub and used that instead.

Then that incredibly uplifting conversation between Lindsay, Paul and I about death by thirst ensued.

I'd like to point out that I have an 18.5L jug of distilled water in the pantry and always have bottled water on hand. We also have plenty of milk....and pop.  So, we really aren't dying of thirst ANY time soon.

Anyways, the plumber came.  The pressure switch was broken.  It had to be replaced.  So as of 3:00 this afternoon we have had water.

According to Lindsay it looks as if the Gordons won't be dying any time soon.

More of Spurgeon

I am reading a book by Spurgeon entitled "The Mourner's Comforter."  I tell you, EVERY PAGE has something that just pierces my heart.  I've called Spurgeon a true son of consolation.  Here is just another proof.

"Furthermore, the Lord has chosen those who are broken-hearted.  When persons are in very low circumstances , they may, nevertheless, possess great force of character and wonderful courage, by means of which they may force their way to the front.  But, the persons who are interested in the blessings that Jesus came to bestow are not described as being of this brave and resolute race; for it is written, "He hath sent me to bind up the broken hearted."  He is sent to encourage those whose spirit fails them.

As for the self confident who say, "I may be very poor in spiritual matters, but I can soon make myself better, and lay up a heap of religious wealth," nothing whatever is promised to them; but the broken-down ones, who are crushed in spirit and wounded in heart, are especially spoken of.  These feel that even if they ever rise, then it must be God alone who can raise them, for they have no strength left; they are among the first to confess that if they are ever brought to heaven, then it will be a miracle of divine power and grace.

As for themselves, each of these broken hearts cries, "My strength is dried up like a potsherd.  I scarcely feel power to pray, or even to think a good thought.  Where shall I find foundation for hope?  What can I expect but wrath?"  The Lord Jesus is anointed to bind up such broken-spirited ones as these; and He will derive unmingled praise from their grateful hearts, since their natural condition excludes all boasting, and their deep and conscious obligations to grace will ensure their magnifying the Lord as long as they live."

--C.H. Spurgeon in The Mourner's Comforter

Our Mighty Hunter

I am Lincoln--the mighty hunter.

 

Nothing gets by me on MY watch.

 

 

 

 Like the moles who have been nibbling on the potatoes and carrots in the garden?

Situation currently resolved.

 

 

Or the moose that dare loiter near the property?

 

 

 

As good as gone.

 

 

Slimy and disgusting muskrats?

Nothing short of complete annihilation.

He will never move again.

 

 

I have been suspected of drowning mice in a bucket of water.

 

 
 
 
 
 

 

Yes, I am Lincoln.  I shall annihilate anything that trespasses on my property.  Other than my insatiable serial killer tendencies toward furry woodland creatures, I really am just a happy, luvey, affectionate puppy.