Wednesday, February 25, 2009

It's been one of those days. One of those gloriously plain, ordinary days. The morning started with me and Zae hanging out together, making breakfast, and then reading and discussing a book together. Eventually Zeke, Eli, and Israel, (who didn't have school because of the Fasching Holiday), meandered into the kitchen where they served themselves a bowl of just-warm Cream of Wheat.

We entered the day slowly. We stayed in the kitchen a long time, laughing, joking with one another, sharing stories. After a long while we cleaned up the kitchen and then sat down for a bit of homeschool studies. The children were sweet. Peaceful. There was no rush.

And that is the way our day proceeded. Little bits of this and then meandering into that. Lunch. Then math. I quietly giggled to myself at the conversation I eavesdropped on.

Zae: You don't know how to do that yet. You're too little.

Israel: Well, I'm not a mom yet. That's why. When I'm a mom, then I'll know everything.

Zae: (with passion) Oh no you won't! Adults don't know everything. And Mom reallllllly doesn't know everything! Farrrrr from it!

Israel paused, taking in that bit of information.

Israel: Mom? Is that true?

Zae and Israel are both looking at me now. They're waiting. The latter with bated breath, the former for the confirmation of truth.

Me: Yes, Israel. Zae's right. I sure do have a lot to learn and a lot of growing up to do.

Israel: Hm. (She looks back down at the math paper she's working on.) Wow.

smile. At some point in the afternoon, the children ask if they can take a break. I sit at the dining room table and work on a project while I listen to their conversation. "I'm the banker." "Okay, here's $500 for you." "I'll buy it." "Ohhhh! I landed on your property. How much do I owe you, Zeke?" And on it goes. For awhile. At some point Zae loses interest. And then Zeke follows suit.

They climb the walls.
Challenging themselves...
to see how high they can climb...
to see if they can reach the top...
hold themselves in a pose... with no hands...
to show off a bit...
to test their strength...
and then challenge each other...
to see who can go the highest...
and, of course, Rae gets into the action, too.

Hm. I condone this monkey-ish behavior, positive my friends would be perfectly horrified. But there's this part of me that watches them and knows it won't last long. Already, my Eli, athletic and strong in every sense, has outgrown the ability to scale these walls. I snap pictures, encouraging them, "Okay, hold it right there." Click, "Good job! Man! You are so strong!"

Later, we leave the house to run errands. On the way we see a flock of geese flying east in a 'V.' We pull over and watch until they are out of sight. On Base I leave the children on the playground while I grocery shop... knowing LeRoy will pick them up in 15 minutes and Eli can handle it in the interim. I stroll the aisles for the seven items. Slowly. My mind wanders. And on the way home, it dawns on me how extraordinary our day has been. How beautiful. Peaceful.

I am overcome with gratitude for "small days." Small moments. Ordinary moments filled with extraordinary joy.

Thank You, Jesus.


  1. Yes! I am so there right with you. The innocence and candor of your children delights me. They seem to see the world without the scaffolding, a refining of sorts. I feel if I were to meet them I would have no choice but to be myself and that would be enough. What a gift.

    I see you sharing the best of yourself with them and am so blessed to catch the crumbles from your table. You truly are a child of your father, the King. Thanks.

  2. You rock! Unconventional... YES... fabulously unconventional...OH YEAH!!!

  3. Okay, but seriously. Weren't you the least bit tempted to claim knowledge that you don't really have??? Even knowing I would get busted, I'd be hard-pressed not to push that envelope. :-)

    We climb the walls, too. Yet another reason we will be fab friends in eternity.