Tag: blessed

The Virginia Creeper and other signs of Wealth

I’m sitting on a little loveseat/couch in the corner of my bedroom, a window on either side of the corner. If I were sitting properly on the couch, I would have a window behind me and a window to my right. But, this is not a couch to sit properly on. It’s rather an uncomfortable little couch and no matter how many pillows you arrange, you find yourself shifting around constantly, sure that if you just adjust this a little bit, or straighten that a little more, it will be good. But it never is. So I sit sideways on the couch with my back against the armrest, my legs and feet scrunched on the cushions in front of me as the couch is just a little bit too short to fully stretch out. 

The window behind the couch, (which is what I really wanted to tell you about), is an old aluminum frame window, rickety, leaks a lot of air in winter time. The window is in two parts and slides from the right to the left to open. Of course, that doesn’t get you to the outside yet. You then have to grab two hooks, top and bottom, on the storm window and slide it to the left as well. And then finally you are at the screen. This window is special among windows in my room because it still has its screen. Only one other window of the five windows in this room still has its screen. Which means in spring and fall, when we are trying to not run heaters and air conditioners and instead take advantage of the cool air outside, it’s a bit difficult to get that cool air into the bedroom, as there are only two windows with screens. I can’t help but think how nice it will be when all those windows can be opened without an invasion of bugs. It’s one of those awkward situations where it is feasible to fix the screens, except the windows are so old and poorly designed that they all really need to be replaced, and that’s a big project that involves a chunk of money and it’s not a high priority, and so it is at the bottom of the list. So, I have two windows with screens. 

Back to the window above the couch. So, this window is covered in vines that arrived this spring. I ask my husband and he says it’s a Virginia Creeper. One half of the window is completely covered, the other side still has a little hole in the middle that has not succumbed. And I sit here on my unwieldy couch and I feel like I am in the jungle. A filter of green for my room. My curtains stay open, no need for them, I have a vine doing the job of creating privacy for me. I can peek through the leaves and see blue sky. The little hole on one side gives me a view of the mulberry tree in the backyard. All I can see is blue and green. What a wonderful little pocket of paradise I have! 

One of my more practical minded children makes a comment that we should cut down the vine. I protest. Not now! Wait till fall! 

It makes me think about rules. Expectations. A grown up life should look like this. This is what responsibility and prosperity look like. This is how you do it right. And I’m not talking about the unmoveable laws of love that hold up our universe. I’m talking about whether you should paint your house purple, and how neat your flower gardens should look. The rules that say green grass is good, and yellow daisies are not. The rules that say if your life looks like this you are wealthy, and if it doesn’t, you are poor. 

According to the world’s rules, I’m not exactly measuring up. But today I sat in my purple faded house, which is definitely on the rundown side, and I worked on music and household chores and I allowed my children to simply exist in their home. They had friends over and they played board games all day, the way only kids on summer vacation can. And I thought about how wealthy I was to be able to be home with my children. My husband was in and out of the house as he had a lot of small jobs and errands to do today. Every time he walked past me throughout the day, passing each other in the kitchen, or the living room, or the bedroom, he gave me a kiss or a hug, or simply a mischievous raise of the eyebrows to make me laugh. How rich I am to have the marriage I have. I squirm a bit on my couch, trying to get a bit more comfortable, and I gaze through my leafy window. How fortunate I am to have such a view. Sometimes I forget. 

Dripping in Treasure

I have ten kids. Birthed all ten. The oldest was sixteen when I had my last. This was not an easy thing to do. I got hyperemesis with each pregnancy and was usually sick in bed for at least the first five months. It usually took about six months before I felt ok. I averaged twenty pounds weight loss just from throwing up, every time. I made at least one trip to the ER every pregnancy due to dehydration. I took expensive nausea medicine, but it did not relieve symptoms very much. 

When we first got married my husband and I both felt a strong conviction that we were supposed to trust God for the size of our family and we were not going to use birth control. Every time I had a baby, I revisited this decision. I looked at all the birth control options, prayed a lot, and every single time I did not feel peace to stop having kids. I loved our children, we adored our babies, the pregnancies were just so hard. When I was pregnant with our tenth, my husband and I made the decision that we were done having kids and made plans for a permanent birth control. We both felt a lot of peace about that decision, and I can honestly say, there has not been one time where I have regretted that choice or the timing of that choice. 

Over the years as I was sick in bed with another pregnancy, I went through a lot of different emotions. Anger, self-pity, doubt, resignation. But my conviction was stronger than my emotions. I knew this was something God had asked of me. Without a doubt. And so I had ten kids. 

Over the years I have watched how God has provided for us. We have never been without. Despite being a one income family, we have managed to raise our kids and provide what they need. Definitely not everything they want, but everything they need. 

Now, when I look at my life, I feel like one of the wealthiest women in the world. I am dripping in treasure. My life is so rich. My kids are amazing. They love each other. They love their parents. Our home is peaceful. Not quiet, but peaceful. Any time of the day I can look up and see my kids being creative, imaginative, enthusiastic, kind. They love going to church. They love worshipping Jesus. They do their work around the house without a big fuss, and they love helping others. I am bursting with pride over every single one of them. And I find my life as a stay-at-home mom something that uses all my talents and is fulfilling and meaningful. 

Last night we went and picked up our kids from church camp. We had seven kids at camp. One was there as a cook, two were there as counselors, another as a junior counselor, and then three as campers. The camp does a lot of performing arts, so the last night the parents come and see all the things their kids have learned. Flag performances, hip hop, drama, skits, dances. It was wonderful. I sat on the hillside in my camp chair and I watched my children worship God with full enthusiasm and emotion. One of the last songs they sang with all the kids was “The Blessing”  (Elevation Worship) which they had learned sign language to.  And as I watched and sang along, I sat there crying because I knew God had already blessed me. Richly. Unequivocally. Overflowing cup. 

Almost without fail, any time someone learns I have ten kids, they react with surprise and astonishment and a look on their face that easily translates as, “You’re crazy!” But every once in a while, there is someone who gets it and they say, “Wow, you are so blessed!” And I have to agree. Yes, I am. You have no idea how much. 

I Am Rich

I love the sounds of my house. A couple minutes ago I was sitting at the piano, trying to sight-read through a fairly simple Chopin piece I had never seen or heard before. It was slow going. Adagio. I wasn’t really focusing on what I was doing. Honestly, I was just killing time, waiting for my kindergartner to finish his workbook. Right now all the kids are waiting for him to finish his workbook. I told him that when he had finished his school work (workbook and read aloud a story) then I would go down to the store and buy our traditional bags of Candy Corn (and for all you haters out there, we happen to think candy corn is awesome!!). Every October I put out some ceramic pumpkins on my mantle, fill them with candy corn and the kids get to grab some after school is done, or chores, or whatever hard task is in front of them. 

Anyway, I was playing the piano, waiting for David to finish his workbook, and I started just listening to all the sounds of our house. 

We started a fire in the wood-burning stove this morning. The stove has a little fan that blows warm air into the room. It is a soothing white noise. We also have a large fish tank in the living room whose water filter sounds like a little waterfall. We need these soothing sounds. They counterbalance the sound of teenagers hurling themselves down our wooden staircase as loud as they can. And the sound of the three year old talking to himself as he plays his little imaginary games. I have one teenager home this week because her school is shut down for Covid. She loves music and carries her phone everywhere with her, sharing her very eclectic music choices with the whole family. 

You can hear our dog barking outside, faithfully protecting us from any random person walking down the sidewalk. The occasional car drives by on the street in front of our house. You can occasionally hear a siren rushing past on the main road which is only a block away from us. 

The kindergartner has a chronic whistling habit and the eleven year old is constantly humming. And Chopin continues to plunk along in the background. 

There is so much life tucked into the walls of this home. 

(Time lapse)

So, I just got back from the store, candy corn has been bought, pumpkin candy dishes are now full. 

When I pulled up to the Family Dollar, I saw two apparently homeless people, a man and a woman, in the alley behind the store. By the time that I left the store and was heading back to my car, they had settled themselves on the back steps of the store’s delivery entrance. They had bags of belongings and some fountain soda cups from a nearby gas station. They looked dirty and the woman looked like she was crying. But they weren’t trying to make eye contact with me, and I had nothing to offer them. No groceries in my bag, just candy corn. No cash in my wallet, just a bankcard. No words to share, my innate shyness balking at starting a conversation. I remembered that I had supported one of our homeless shelters this past weekend by shopping at their thrift store (thank you Ma’am, your purchase has just helped us feed ten people!), and I just hope that this couple will make their way to the shelter by evening and take advantage of this ministry in our city.

I climbed back into my car and drove back home. And once again, I felt like the blinders had been ripped off my eyes. A glimpse at my true reality. My home, a beautiful mansion. My children, costly jewels, unmeasurable treasures. My life, a dream come true.

And the noises in my house sound like a beautiful symphony. The chaos is simply an outpouring of joy. I feel like the richest woman on the planet as I survey this ramshackle house of mine. 

And my prayer becomes, make me a blessing.

God, you have blessed me, show me how to bless others.