stories about the kids

It’s like a fact!

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I think he took this picture himself using my computer. All I know is that I opened my computer the other day to find this picture as my background–compliments of his older sister, I’m sure! Love it!

The other morning I opened the devotional book Jesus Calling to read it aloud to Dave as he ironed his shirt.

“Oh, I have a hard time believing that most of the time,” I said—before I’d even read the first sentence.

“Believing what?” Dave asked.

“Here’s what it says,” I answered. “’I am pleased with you, My child.’ And listen to this: ‘You don’t have to perform well in order to receive My Love.’ Ouch!”

Forty-five minutes later I was in the middle of my workout when son Jake came down to the basement and did what he always does in the early mornings when none of his other siblings are yet stirring: he went straight to the couch and cuddled with our dog, Chai.

“Oh, Chai,” he said, his voice syrupy sweet. “You’re such a good girl. What a good girl you are!”

Feeling a bit like chopped liver—I hadn’t even rated a “hello”—and in the middle of a huffing, puffing part of my workout, I asked, “What has she done to make her a good girl, Jake? She’s just lying there.”

He looked up, his face surprised. “Mom, I love her. That’s what makes her good!”

Wow!

I love her. That’s what makes her good.

I am pleased with you, My child.

I guess God really wanted to drive the lesson home.

Ephesians 2:8 “For it is by free grace (God’s unmerited favor) that you are saved (delivered from judgment and made partakers of Christ’s salvation) through [your] faith. And this [salvation] is not of yourselves [of your own doing, it came not through your own striving], but it is the gift of God;”

I like how the Amplified version puts it: “not through your own striving.” Oh, I strive. And I beat myself up and assume that God feels the same as I do when all my efforts come up short or are revealed to be what they are—things done to make me feel good about myself.

At bedtime the other night, Patrick said something hurtful about a group of people. He said it without thought, just to be talking, but I didn’t let it slide. “Do you realize how hurtful those words were? Do you realize what you were saying?”

When I explained, he DID understand.

And he felt awful.

When I went into his room to kiss him goodnight, his cheeks were tear-stained and he wouldn’t look at me.

I rubbed his head, and he turned his face to me and asked, “Mommy, do you still love me after what I said?”

Man, when any of your kids say that—but especially your adopted baby—it stops the heart!

“Oh, sweetheart,” I said—when I could say anything, “nothing’s going to change my love for you. I Love You! It’s like a fact.”

He loves me!

He loves you!

It’s like a fact.

From grouchy to glorifying

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I took this today in our front yard. What an amazing blue sky!

Yesterday’s getting-ready-to-go-to-school was grouchy. Nothing major, just a lot of little things that resulted in rubbed tempers that we carried all the way to the car and on the drive to school. We lacked harmony.

As I drove, Maddie recited her memory verses, Psalms 86:10-13. She had a Bible in her lap, but she wasn’t really looking at it, just reciting, and I was sure she had one of the phrases wrong.

“Look at it, Maddie,” I told her. She repeated the same phrase.

“Are you looking at it?” I asked her.

“I’m saying it, Mom.”

“I know, but is that what it says? You’re still saying the same phrase.”

Repeat above conversation—maybe a couple times.

Then Em jumped in. “Mom, she’s reading it.”

“No, she’s looking at me in the rearview mirror.”

Repeat THAT conversation.

Finally Maddie looked, saw the correct phrase, changed it, and went right on with the rest of the passage.

Being who I am (a little stuck on being RIGHT), I felt I had review what had happened. “Mads, do you see what I meant now? I just wanted you to LOOK at it. It’s not a big deal, but I didn’t want you to memorize it the wrong way.”

She said, “yeah, I do,” and conversation went on in the car, but it all felt “off” to me—the entire morning.

So after I dropped the kids off, I started examining both the morning and my heart. Why didn’t it feel right to me? What, exactly, was wrong? What should I have done differently? I couldn’t even seem to talk to God about it: my prayers felt distant and stiff. What was going on?

As I wrestled, a little chorus in my head got louder and louder until I finally paid attention to it.

It was a phrase from the verses Maddie had been reciting.

“Teach me Your way, Lord, that I may rely on Your faithfulness.” (11a)

Little aha! moment then: His faithfulness, not MINE. Part of my being unsettled was due to my feeling that I didn’t handle the morning well. I’d been relying not on God’s faithfulness but on MINE—yikes!

More revelation: His faithfulness, not my CHILDREN’s. Oh, a very real moment of clarity. Whenever I rely on other people—that they should do the things I think they should do, that my well-being and my state of mind is based on how they act or react to me—my reliance is on THEM and not on Christ. I had not been relying on God’s faithfulness—a solid rock—but on the shifting sand of people’s faithfulness.

Then real prayer came. “Oh, Lord, You alone are faithful. Forgive me for relying on anything or anybody other than You. Forgive me for wanting a smooth morning more than intimacy with You.”

The end of the passage came flooding to mind then. Verse 13: “Great is Your love for me; you have delivered me from the depths.” Yes, once again He had rescued me from my pit of self-sufficiency and self-focus—and He did this because HE LOVES ME! Because He wants fellowship with me! Because He is not willing for me to live a fake, less-than-real life but wants me to have abundant life with HIM!

I was now full circle around to the first verse of the passage. In just a few minutes God had brought supernatural change to my heart—and heart transformation is no small thing! Psalm 86:10 says, “For You are great and do marvelous deeds; You alone are God.”

Yes! Only God can change a heart.

At this point I was able to recite the entire passage—and mean it.

“For you are great and do marvelous deeds; you alone are God.

Teach me your way, Lord, that I may rely on your faithfulness;

Give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name.

I will praise you, Lord my God, with all my heart; I will glorify your name forever.

For great is Your love toward me; you have delivered me from the depths, from the realm of the dead.”

Amen.

That’s more like it

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“Mommy, your skin is so soft right here.” It was bedtime and I was lying down next to Maddie, one of my eight-year old twins. She was rubbing the skin between my collarbones with her forefinger. “It’s all wrinkly.” She moved her finger up to my face. “And there are wrinkles here.. and here…”

Eight is an interesting age. They’re savvy enough to “get” much of what the older kids and Dave and I say, but they have very little sophistication about what to say–or not say–themselves. The other day Jake told Maddie that her face was “chubby.” It took Judy, Kelly, and Emily to explain to him why Maddie didn’t like that. “Don’t ever say anything negative to a girl about how she looks,” Judy told him. “You could scar her for life,” Kelly added. And I told him that my face was chubby when I was eight, too.

Dave and the boys with Papa, Dave’s dad. What a cute bunch of guys!

Emily just punched him.

“Ow,” Jake said and then defended his comments.”But I like her face. I wasn’t trying to be mean.”

“And it is chubby,” he added.

Jake is our early riser. On school mornings he comes down to the basement, where I am working out, and he curls up on the couch and reads. Every once in awhile he glances up to see what I’m doing. Last week he told me, “Mom, you’re not lifting your knees nearly as high as the people on the video.”

“Do you want to get out here and show me how it’s done?” I immediately regretted my sarcasm, but it was okay because it was lost on Jake. He paused and then said, “No,” before looking back at his book.

Doggone it, I was trying my hardest NOT to lift my knees higher after that, but I must have caved into the pressure because, a few minutes later, when I was back into the high knee part of the cycle, he looked up again and said, “That’s more like it, Mom.”

Goodbyes

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Last night we had a goodbye party for Nina and Jane, our international students. They both fly home today. Both also have birthdays in the summertime, so Em made them a cake and put the Chinese symbol for “love” in the center for Nina and wrote “We will miss you” in Vietnamese around the edge for Jane. (Though Jane said Google’s

from left, Maddie, Nina, Em, PJ, Jane, and Jake

translation of “We will miss you” was not exactly correct.) It’s been a year full of growth and learning for all of us, and I am excited to see how God will use it in all of our futures. The Underwood family loves you, girls, and we hope and pray you have a great summer with your families.

One lace sock

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There’s a lot going on right now for my family (end of school year–both for the kids and for me and Dave; end of the soccer season for Dave; Nina and Jane’s–our international students–exams and packing [and that, considering the state of their room, is a MAJOR task]; and, of course, our move into a new house). So, although I’ve been doing lots of praying/reflecting, I have not been doing a lot of writing/reflecting–which is what usually results in blog posts.

But today was a gift–full of unhurried time with the younger three on a field trip (with my weird teaching schedule, I rarely get to go on these) to Blackberry Farm. God rested my rushed soul with enjoyment of Jake, Maddie, and Patrick at the stages they are in right now while we walked through the barns and different learning centers. Then tonight the younger three joined me on a bike-run with Chai while Em put the finishing touches on dinner.

And THAT is what I’m grabbing a few minutes to write about–because it was hilarious, especially in retrospect. Chai (the dog) and I jetted out, as usual, while Jake, Maddie, and Patrick followed behind on the sidewalk. I was around the corner from them when I heard: “Mo-om!”

Patrick.

I turned around to check on him, but he was pedaling toward me. A neighbor friend called out from her yard to provide the answer. “His shoelace got stuck in his chain. I got it out, but you’ll definitely need to do a re-tie.”

I caught up with the kids stopped at the corner and tied his shoelace, double-knotting it for good measure.

We’d made it half a block.

A full block later, Chai and I were ahead again. “Mo-om!” Patrick–again. We turned around–again. This time his pants leg had gotten stuck in the chain. I turned his wheel backwards and freed it.

We made it two blocks this time. “Mo-om!”

Somehow his shoelace–the one I tied–had gotten wrapped AROUND the pedal! As I freed it, I noticed that he had on a lace-topped sock.

“Dude! Why are you wearing a frilly sock?” I lifted his other pant leg. “And on only one foot?” I peeled the lace-topped sock down. “And why are you wearing it over YOUR sock?”

Maddie looked closer. “Hey! That’s MY sock!”

He shrugged, but we’re both looking at him, so he had to come up with something. “It was on your bed.”

“And that explains why you put it on?”

“Well, my other sock was cold.”

I tapped his other foot. “But not this one?”

“Uh-unh.”

One lace sock and the gift of humor.

I may still be tired, but I’m also refreshed.

And speaking of the end of the soccer season, here’s a pic I took of the girls lifting the regional champs plaque last week. Unfortunately, they were stopped in the sectional final, but still–great season, great girls!

Kids’ words: from marriage to books

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Jake showing off his, hmm, “muscles”

Every once in awhile, I post funny things  kids say. Here are a few that I actually remembered to put in my journal.

We were driving back from Philly at the end of spring break when the younger three had this conversation:

PJ: I’m gonna’ be Jake’s grandpa. ‘Cause he’s not getting married.

NOTE: Obviously, PJ does not understand family relations.

Jake: Well, I don’t know. I might get married.

Maddie Oh, he will. I know it deep in my heart. He will.

Jake: I just may not find the correct woman. She has to love Jesus and obey the laws of Scripture.

Dave and I looked each other and almost laughed, since he sounded like such a little legalist. He did study Moses in Bible class this spring. Maybe that was it.

Dave said, “And she needs to be smokin’ hot.”

Pause. Then,

Jake: Why does she have to be smokin’ hot?

**********

We stopped at a gas station (same trip) and Dave cleaned the windshield. “Whoa!” PJ said, “Daddy’s shaving the car.”

**********

And here’s one that made my English-teacher heart go thump-thump:

Maddie, cooled off after a run through the sprinkler at Nana and Papa’s house last weekend.

PJ: Movies are better than books.

Me: No! Books are way better.

Maddie: Yeah, books ARE better. You can store pictures in your mind.

Aw!

 

 

 

 

Patrick, Maddie, and Jake, after running through the sprinklers, using their towels as capes and posing as superheroes.