Emily Cook's Blog, page 33
July 17, 2013
bad ways to cope with summer vacation
Can you feel it? It's the middle of summer, moms.
Are you enjoying your "vacation?"
Or are you starting to dread walking into the same room as your kids?
When you hear them, when you hear your vocation callling (with screams and fights and spills,) are you starting to feel likea cat being shoved into a bath?
My favorite lately has been the fighting.
It's just my... favorite.
It's inspiring all kinds of creativity in this frazzled mama brain of mine.
Here are some things I've considered doing to help them grow in the fine arts of social interaction.
(Perhaps these thoughts are red flags?)
Drop them off in the woods somewhere and make them find their way home.Try leashes, and maybe duct tape.Lock them in a small closet together and see who comes out alive.Separate them for the rest of their lives.Separate myself from them for the rest of MY life.Quit. Just quit being mom and make them fend for themselves. (Remove all junk food from the house first. Eat it. Laugh.)Bring it on: throw three pieces of gum in the middle of the six kids. Stand back. Take pictures.Make them run laps... around the entire city.Make children who act like animals stay outside. Require manners and decorum in the house, Downton Abbey style, including fancy clothes.Dress them in the get-along shirt, first thing in the morning.
(I've really only used this once. I set a five minute "love timer." It ended in laughter, so that was good.)
cat photo credit carpatys
Are you enjoying your "vacation?"
Or are you starting to dread walking into the same room as your kids?
When you hear them, when you hear your vocation callling (with screams and fights and spills,) are you starting to feel likea cat being shoved into a bath?
My favorite lately has been the fighting.
It's just my... favorite.
It's inspiring all kinds of creativity in this frazzled mama brain of mine.
Here are some things I've considered doing to help them grow in the fine arts of social interaction.
(Perhaps these thoughts are red flags?)
Drop them off in the woods somewhere and make them find their way home.Try leashes, and maybe duct tape.Lock them in a small closet together and see who comes out alive.Separate them for the rest of their lives.Separate myself from them for the rest of MY life.Quit. Just quit being mom and make them fend for themselves. (Remove all junk food from the house first. Eat it. Laugh.)Bring it on: throw three pieces of gum in the middle of the six kids. Stand back. Take pictures.Make them run laps... around the entire city.Make children who act like animals stay outside. Require manners and decorum in the house, Downton Abbey style, including fancy clothes.Dress them in the get-along shirt, first thing in the morning.
(I've really only used this once. I set a five minute "love timer." It ended in laughter, so that was good.)
cat photo credit carpatys
July 12, 2013
Recommended posts
Should my friend get help?
When a friend struggles with depression
What PMS really stands for
More wisdom from the Orange Rhino- she gets it.
Praying in Tears, Snot, and Screams
Have you ever lacked the language?
Grieve and Rebalance
On finding your footing again. Great writing by a new friend.
A Picture is Worth a Thousand Lies
I painted on the obligatory smile, locking up the grief when others were around, lest someone discover that I too was a frail human being beset with weakness. By then I had years of practice in the fool’s art of keeping up appearances.
Alright and Okay
This one had me in tears. Read it, please.
Friends, there has to be a better way. A better way to support one another when they are walking a painful path. There has to be a better way to encourage and uplift and love without undoing the brutality of the journey, without negating the reality that for some, it doesn’t get “all better”.
Top ten reasons why we use the liturgy
Faith comes by hearing.
When a friend struggles with depression
What PMS really stands for
More wisdom from the Orange Rhino- she gets it.
Praying in Tears, Snot, and Screams
Have you ever lacked the language?
Grieve and Rebalance
On finding your footing again. Great writing by a new friend.
A Picture is Worth a Thousand Lies
I painted on the obligatory smile, locking up the grief when others were around, lest someone discover that I too was a frail human being beset with weakness. By then I had years of practice in the fool’s art of keeping up appearances.
Alright and Okay
This one had me in tears. Read it, please.
Friends, there has to be a better way. A better way to support one another when they are walking a painful path. There has to be a better way to encourage and uplift and love without undoing the brutality of the journey, without negating the reality that for some, it doesn’t get “all better”.
Top ten reasons why we use the liturgy
Faith comes by hearing.
July 11, 2013
Doesn't God know how weak I am?
She had tears in her voice, and I could hear them through the phone, when she told me the news. She was already spread thin, so thin. She loves her children, of course, but she was bone tired. She didn't have enough for them, not even close. They wanted more of her attention, more of her love, and she was failing. They wanted meals, again and again. She was behind on everything.
And the worst thing? She wasn't handling it well. And the mommy-guilt was starting to suffocate her.
And did God give her relief? Did He lead her to green pastures and still waters, and send someone to clean her house while she rested there?
No, at least not on that day. Instead, He sent her another baby.
Another one.
And I could hear it in her voice when she said, "Doesn't God know how weak I am?" Another one. Another that needs. Another one to fail.
Doesn't God know how weak I am?
And yet this God, He chooses the weak things in this world.
I see it- I live under and in this grace that surrounds the weak, and yet I do not understand. I do not understand how God gives imperfect parents a child, and more children. He gives, and they need, and we fail, and somehow a family grows, blessed, and children know they are loved.
Doesn't God know how weak we are?
Of course He does. In fact, I am certain I underestimate my own weaknesses. Why else would I be so surprised by them when they appear? But God, He knows them fully, and He knows yours, too.
And yet He has called us His own in Jesus. We are His own. And Our Father who gives growth to the crops, and life to the dead, He can use even your weak hands to bless those around you.
--------Are you surprised at your own weaknesses?Do you ever feel like weakness disqualifies you from serving God and others?------
Please pray for the Lambert family (another friend, not the one in the story above.)
This week, they found out that another of their children has epilepsy. (That makes three.) Dana shared her story (at the time) on this blog here. Read her blog for the latest here.
And the worst thing? She wasn't handling it well. And the mommy-guilt was starting to suffocate her.
And did God give her relief? Did He lead her to green pastures and still waters, and send someone to clean her house while she rested there?
No, at least not on that day. Instead, He sent her another baby.
Another one.
And I could hear it in her voice when she said, "Doesn't God know how weak I am?" Another one. Another that needs. Another one to fail.
Doesn't God know how weak I am?
And yet this God, He chooses the weak things in this world.
I see it- I live under and in this grace that surrounds the weak, and yet I do not understand. I do not understand how God gives imperfect parents a child, and more children. He gives, and they need, and we fail, and somehow a family grows, blessed, and children know they are loved.
Doesn't God know how weak we are?
Of course He does. In fact, I am certain I underestimate my own weaknesses. Why else would I be so surprised by them when they appear? But God, He knows them fully, and He knows yours, too.
And yet He has called us His own in Jesus. We are His own. And Our Father who gives growth to the crops, and life to the dead, He can use even your weak hands to bless those around you.
--------Are you surprised at your own weaknesses?Do you ever feel like weakness disqualifies you from serving God and others?------
Please pray for the Lambert family (another friend, not the one in the story above.)
This week, they found out that another of their children has epilepsy. (That makes three.) Dana shared her story (at the time) on this blog here. Read her blog for the latest here.
July 9, 2013
Book giveaway
Would you like to win a signed copy of one of my books?
There are two ways to enter, and they're both easy!
1. Visit my facebook page. Tag yourself in this photo. (If you win, you get to choose which book!)
2. Leave a comment on this post and tell me which book you'd like if you win!
Winners will be chosen on Friday at random via random.org
Read more about these books on my book page.
There are two ways to enter, and they're both easy!
1. Visit my facebook page. Tag yourself in this photo. (If you win, you get to choose which book!)
2. Leave a comment on this post and tell me which book you'd like if you win!
Winners will be chosen on Friday at random via random.org
Read more about these books on my book page.
July 8, 2013
In God's Sandbox
To Marcus, on your "best day ever."
We told you that we were taking you to a sand mountain, but none of you really understood what that meant. When you Sleeping Bear Dunes, you all were shocked. “Can we climb it?” and I said “Of course,” and I could see in your eyes that you had no idea mom and dad would ever let you do something so awesome.
Marcus, ever since you were a tiny baby, you have had a certain sparkle in your eye. It is as if you are amused by everything. Now that you are older (five,) I understand the sparkling soul behind those eyes a little bit more. You seeit. You see the wonder, the absurdity of this place we live in. You see the irony and the hilarity and adventure around you (and if you can’t find it, you create it.)
Nana was with us, and every kid, and daddy, too. The weather was perfect- low 70s, cloud cover, and a gentle breeze. The hill climb was steep, but you ran ahead with the older three. We climbed the first giant dune, then a smaller hill to the dune cliffs. When we caught up (I had to carry Peter for a short ways,) daddy taught you to dune jump while I caught my breath.
My foot has only been out of the fracture boot for two weeks. But it doesn’t hurt, it only pinches a little. “Hun, be careful,” daddy said. “We can’t handle another six weeks with you in a boot. Indeed… but dunes are just so awesome. I think my eyes sparkle like yours in such a place.
My first jump was a quiet one, because I didn’t want you to see me learning any hard life lessons if there were lessons to learn. But I landed in the soft sand on my heels, and it was WONDERFUL. No pain, only a body that can still fly in Lake Michigan air. I made sure all the kids watched for the next jump. I love when I impress you and make you laugh. (Nana thinks I’m crazy to act like a kid when I’m a mother of six.. she shakes her head, and even that makes it more fun.)
I jumped 3, 4, 5 times, then I stopped to catch my breath. Where did Marcus go? On another cliff I saw you, ready to run. And run you did, like a cartoon character whose feet move so fast that you can see only dust. And your laugh--- oh, how you laughed as you ran! It was a giddy, almost maniacal laugh. It was the laugh I hear when you take your bike down the hill and the pedals move so fast you can’t keep your feet on them.
You stopped where the ground leveled a bit to whoop with joy, then you ran back up the hill to do it again. Your brothers and sisters joined you (though Eldon and Peter needed to hold a big person’s hand), and we played until we were too sand-logged to take it any longer. (As I write this I still have sand in my ears.)
We gave you the green light to run free down the giant hill. Again, I saw it- that look that says you can’t believe your mom is so cool that she would let you do this. And I thought, what a God, who made a sand mountain like this, for children like YOU, and a mommy like me.
And everybody ran, and I ran too. Lorraine had Eldon’s hand, so we went more slowly. I remembered how to take ridiculous giant steps down the steep sand hill, and I taught her. Even stepping feels like flying on the dunes. But Marcus, you ran, and again I heard your crazy laugh. Your wheeling legs worked hard, but you lost control, and you crashed, a cloud of limbs and sand and laughter.
Back at the van, I passed out water cups and your eyes continued to dance. “I will never ever forget this day, mama,” you said to me. (Have you, son? I want to remember too, but will we?) You told your daddy about your crash when he caught up (he’d been running slower with Peter.) “That was a sweet wreck,” you gloated, “I will never forget this day!” I want to remember this day, too.
And on the way home you couldn’t get comfortable, so I let you lay on me. You slept, and you drooled on me, a little, and I teased you, but not too much. I didn’t want you to move away. You rolled over to your back and rested your head on my lap. You let your mouth hang open and your fists unclench. I noticed the rock you had taken from the beach, resting in your hand. It was a speckled rock, and you wanted to save it forever because this day was so great.
You sound like your mother. I save days too, with words not rocks. I am saving this one for me, and for you.
(added to my Gilead. )
We told you that we were taking you to a sand mountain, but none of you really understood what that meant. When you Sleeping Bear Dunes, you all were shocked. “Can we climb it?” and I said “Of course,” and I could see in your eyes that you had no idea mom and dad would ever let you do something so awesome.
Marcus, ever since you were a tiny baby, you have had a certain sparkle in your eye. It is as if you are amused by everything. Now that you are older (five,) I understand the sparkling soul behind those eyes a little bit more. You seeit. You see the wonder, the absurdity of this place we live in. You see the irony and the hilarity and adventure around you (and if you can’t find it, you create it.)
Nana was with us, and every kid, and daddy, too. The weather was perfect- low 70s, cloud cover, and a gentle breeze. The hill climb was steep, but you ran ahead with the older three. We climbed the first giant dune, then a smaller hill to the dune cliffs. When we caught up (I had to carry Peter for a short ways,) daddy taught you to dune jump while I caught my breath.
My foot has only been out of the fracture boot for two weeks. But it doesn’t hurt, it only pinches a little. “Hun, be careful,” daddy said. “We can’t handle another six weeks with you in a boot. Indeed… but dunes are just so awesome. I think my eyes sparkle like yours in such a place.
My first jump was a quiet one, because I didn’t want you to see me learning any hard life lessons if there were lessons to learn. But I landed in the soft sand on my heels, and it was WONDERFUL. No pain, only a body that can still fly in Lake Michigan air. I made sure all the kids watched for the next jump. I love when I impress you and make you laugh. (Nana thinks I’m crazy to act like a kid when I’m a mother of six.. she shakes her head, and even that makes it more fun.)
I jumped 3, 4, 5 times, then I stopped to catch my breath. Where did Marcus go? On another cliff I saw you, ready to run. And run you did, like a cartoon character whose feet move so fast that you can see only dust. And your laugh--- oh, how you laughed as you ran! It was a giddy, almost maniacal laugh. It was the laugh I hear when you take your bike down the hill and the pedals move so fast you can’t keep your feet on them.
You stopped where the ground leveled a bit to whoop with joy, then you ran back up the hill to do it again. Your brothers and sisters joined you (though Eldon and Peter needed to hold a big person’s hand), and we played until we were too sand-logged to take it any longer. (As I write this I still have sand in my ears.)
We gave you the green light to run free down the giant hill. Again, I saw it- that look that says you can’t believe your mom is so cool that she would let you do this. And I thought, what a God, who made a sand mountain like this, for children like YOU, and a mommy like me.
And everybody ran, and I ran too. Lorraine had Eldon’s hand, so we went more slowly. I remembered how to take ridiculous giant steps down the steep sand hill, and I taught her. Even stepping feels like flying on the dunes. But Marcus, you ran, and again I heard your crazy laugh. Your wheeling legs worked hard, but you lost control, and you crashed, a cloud of limbs and sand and laughter.
Back at the van, I passed out water cups and your eyes continued to dance. “I will never ever forget this day, mama,” you said to me. (Have you, son? I want to remember too, but will we?) You told your daddy about your crash when he caught up (he’d been running slower with Peter.) “That was a sweet wreck,” you gloated, “I will never forget this day!” I want to remember this day, too.
And on the way home you couldn’t get comfortable, so I let you lay on me. You slept, and you drooled on me, a little, and I teased you, but not too much. I didn’t want you to move away. You rolled over to your back and rested your head on my lap. You let your mouth hang open and your fists unclench. I noticed the rock you had taken from the beach, resting in your hand. It was a speckled rock, and you wanted to save it forever because this day was so great.
You sound like your mother. I save days too, with words not rocks. I am saving this one for me, and for you.
(added to my Gilead. )
July 5, 2013
Beautiful (Five Minute Friday)
Five Minute Friday
The word: Beautiful
--------
We're out late for a campfire, and I'm running out of patience.
There were no fireworks this year, not for us. The kids are too young, or the parents feel too old. We chose to say close to home and to our beds. We will need them after kids weild hot pokers for s'mores, then play with more hot pokers called sparklers.
But the lightning bugs come out, and how can I say no? So I say yes, and I gather jars and watch the lights on the bugs and the light in the eyes. And I grabbed my camera to capture the proud, fat cheeks, but then I saw the other beauty. Do you see it?
The sky! I did not notice it until I looked through the lens, but once I saw it, it continued to become more and more amazing. Days, hours of rain fell this week, and the campfire itself was a surprise. But now, oh, the sky!
Who needs fireworks when God does this with the sky?
Sometimes I don't notice the beautiful until there is a camera in front of my face. God, open my eyes!
The word: Beautiful
--------
We're out late for a campfire, and I'm running out of patience.
There were no fireworks this year, not for us. The kids are too young, or the parents feel too old. We chose to say close to home and to our beds. We will need them after kids weild hot pokers for s'mores, then play with more hot pokers called sparklers.
But the lightning bugs come out, and how can I say no? So I say yes, and I gather jars and watch the lights on the bugs and the light in the eyes. And I grabbed my camera to capture the proud, fat cheeks, but then I saw the other beauty. Do you see it?
The sky! I did not notice it until I looked through the lens, but once I saw it, it continued to become more and more amazing. Days, hours of rain fell this week, and the campfire itself was a surprise. But now, oh, the sky!
Who needs fireworks when God does this with the sky?
Sometimes I don't notice the beautiful until there is a camera in front of my face. God, open my eyes!
Flourishing
It is good to praise the Lord and make music to your name, O Most High,to proclaim your love in the morning, and your faithfulness at night
For you make me glad by your deeds, O Lord;I sing for joy at the works of your hands.
The righteous will flourish like a palm tree,they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon;planted in the house of the Lord,they will flourish in the courts of our God.
They will still bear fruit in old age,they will stay fresh and greenproclaiming, "The Lord is upright;he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in Him."
Psalm 92:1-2, 4, 12-15
For you make me glad by your deeds, O Lord;I sing for joy at the works of your hands.
The righteous will flourish like a palm tree,they will grow like a cedar of Lebanon;planted in the house of the Lord,they will flourish in the courts of our God.
They will still bear fruit in old age,they will stay fresh and greenproclaiming, "The Lord is upright;he is my Rock, and there is no wickedness in Him."
Psalm 92:1-2, 4, 12-15
July 3, 2013
July 2, 2013
It feels odd to say kind things.
I read this post a few weeks ago, and it's got me saying some weird things in front of my children.
"Isn't it wonderful to have a body that can hike like this?"
"Thank you God for a body that can swim!"
Instead of "I'm so glad I didn't break the zip line!" I said, "WOW that was so fun! Let's do it again!"
me on the zip line!
There are other thoughts about the body bouncing around in my head, unkind thoughts. And they are loud thoughts, too. But they are not the most important thoughts.
So, even as I fight my own temptations and try to better care for my body, I do not want to do it in a spirit of self-hatred.
I pray that God helps me keep my eyes on the many, many things that are more important.
"Let us honour and respect our bodies for what they do instead of despising them for how they appear. Focus on living healthy and active lives, let our weight fall where it may, and consign our body hatred in the past where it belongs."
Read this post!
http://www.essentialmums.co.nz/mums-life/health/8757837/Passing-on-body-hatred
------------Even if you are unhappy with your body today, can you think of ONE kind thing to say about it?
"Isn't it wonderful to have a body that can hike like this?"
"Thank you God for a body that can swim!"
Instead of "I'm so glad I didn't break the zip line!" I said, "WOW that was so fun! Let's do it again!"
me on the zip line!There are other thoughts about the body bouncing around in my head, unkind thoughts. And they are loud thoughts, too. But they are not the most important thoughts.
So, even as I fight my own temptations and try to better care for my body, I do not want to do it in a spirit of self-hatred.
I pray that God helps me keep my eyes on the many, many things that are more important.
"Let us honour and respect our bodies for what they do instead of despising them for how they appear. Focus on living healthy and active lives, let our weight fall where it may, and consign our body hatred in the past where it belongs."
Read this post!
http://www.essentialmums.co.nz/mums-life/health/8757837/Passing-on-body-hatred
------------Even if you are unhappy with your body today, can you think of ONE kind thing to say about it?
July 1, 2013
Grease stains
Sometimes my stomach gets so full that the ears of heart cannot hear.
No, it's not that they can't hear. They just don't care to hear.
And as I fill up on that which does not satisfy, my spirit withers.
Yet even bloated, I am not filled.
I thirst.
I thirst, and the thirst itself is grace.
Thirst draws me back to Him.
My lips are stained with Daquiri and Pepsi, my hands greasy from grasping for comfort in melted cheese.
I've been drinking from other wells, eating from strange tables, and it's making me sick.
Yet He is not afraid of grease stains on His robe.
Hear, ears.
Hear what Jesus says to the thirsty.
“Come, all you who are thirsty,
come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
without money and without cost.
Why spend money on what is not bread,
and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,
and you will delight in the richest of fare.
Give ear and come to me;
listen, that you may live."
(Isaiah 55:1-3a)
Ears of my heart, receive the Word of the Lord, for in it there is life! Soul, feed on the food God provides for you!
Father,
Open my ears and my heart and my hands to receive what is good, and to let go of those things that are not beneficial. Keep me from the errors of legalism and laziness. Fill me with fresh delight in You and in your good gifts. Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall declare your praise.
In Jesus name, Amen.
No, it's not that they can't hear. They just don't care to hear.
And as I fill up on that which does not satisfy, my spirit withers.
Yet even bloated, I am not filled.
I thirst.
I thirst, and the thirst itself is grace.
Thirst draws me back to Him.
My lips are stained with Daquiri and Pepsi, my hands greasy from grasping for comfort in melted cheese.
I've been drinking from other wells, eating from strange tables, and it's making me sick.
Yet He is not afraid of grease stains on His robe.
Hear, ears.
Hear what Jesus says to the thirsty.
“Come, all you who are thirsty,
come to the waters;
and you who have no money,
come, buy and eat!
Come, buy wine and milk
without money and without cost.
Why spend money on what is not bread,
and your labor on what does not satisfy?
Listen, listen to me, and eat what is good,
and you will delight in the richest of fare.
Give ear and come to me;
listen, that you may live."
(Isaiah 55:1-3a)
Ears of my heart, receive the Word of the Lord, for in it there is life! Soul, feed on the food God provides for you!
Father,
Open my ears and my heart and my hands to receive what is good, and to let go of those things that are not beneficial. Keep me from the errors of legalism and laziness. Fill me with fresh delight in You and in your good gifts. Lord, open my lips, and my mouth shall declare your praise.
In Jesus name, Amen.
