working

There is a stirring happening, a slow change in my soul.

I wonder where God is taking it.

What is this I am circling around, and is it part of the answer I've sought?

Speaking life. Building the strengths. The tongue.

These ideas are looking for solid ground on which to land.

That thing

I try not to be prone to complaint. Complaining is annoying, and when I find myself wrapped up in it I suffer feelings of disgust and disappointment but mostly I wonder what good was just lost in that moment. What blessing did I miss in my hour of dissatisfaction?

My thought life is often a mess, a true reflection of the fallen soul I am. While my outward strength may be self control of tongue in many a situation, there is a blur and buzz of judgement and rants and negativity under the surface. It's THAT tension I am finding so hard to release, to control ones thoughts is an arduous task, but, dare I say, a noble one?

Regrettably the silent beatings bear down mostly on two victims, two so dear to me: my husband, my son. They are my treasures, my golden blessings and thus the target of the evil one when it comes to controlling the thoughts and attitudes of my heart. I want most to do right by them, to raise them up for greatness, but my selfishness uses my thoughts to corrupt the motive of my actions toward them.

So, in light of this, I want to publicly proclaim one thing I love most about each of them. I will fill my heart, and my tiny blip of cyberspace with positive truths, and thus thwart all attacks from the dark side at war within.

For my husband. He is brilliant and creative, good at everything, but this is not the first thing that stands out. That thing I love most is the ease of expression of a childlike heart, that his title has not changed the core of the man, that he can still play freeze tag and ride on shopping carts and giggle at immature jokes and surprise tickle me when I least expect it. He is a blessing if not for all else, for that.

For Asher. He also is brilliant like his daddy and good at anything he takes the time to persevere at, but what I love most about him is his exuberant joy over things unexpected. The bouncing peels of pure excitement over bowling pins knocked down, the pride of writing and reading new words, the genuine love of cheering on little sister at potty tasks, the huge smiles and coos generously given to all babies. He has a deep sweetness. I want more of that.

And now dear friends, it's your turn. Let's encourage one another. Since you have read this I humbly ask that you speak up. Comment here and encourage us all with affirming words toward the one that your heart finds easy to criticize. Speak only the positive, within your mind and out, and see how the change begins.

Satisfy

Oh Lord, that you would awl ways be what I love, that you would always be enough.

Whoever loves money never has enough;
whoever loves wealth is never satisfied with their income.
This too is meaningless. (Ecclesiastes 5:10 NIV)

Often I feel like I'm parenting day to day, impulse to impulse. I think a good method is working, then it crumbles under the weight of my inconsistency. I have ideas that seem right, but then I get sucked up in this whirlwind of emotion and fear and frustration, it approaching unheard, unnoticed. All of a sudden it's spitting me out, leaving us all in tears, emptied.

Oh how I want to do this well. I want to give and give of myself; I want to perfectly balance care of self, care of husband, care of children and home.

I have to. I have to make this my best, this the life I've been given. It is what I have to live. It's all I live. It is the BEST life.

My fear, the one that swallows me, is Asher drowning in his own negativity. That it be found that I am the one that pushed him in.