Ramona Quimby Moments

Yesterday morning, my 3-year-old son woke me up holding a raw egg.
"Mom, can my brother have this boiled egg for breakfast?"
Yikes! The thought of cleaning up a runny egg off the floor--or worse, my bed--startled me to full-mom mode.
"Honey, that's not boiled. Please don't crack it."
"Oh," he said. "We already tried two, but they were runny."
Sigh.
"Please tell me you were at the sink when you cracked them..."
"No, we were at the chair in front of the television."
Wow.
Welcome to my day!

A pawn in God's hands

No one wants to be the pawn. I'd rather be the queen, thank you very much! But the truth is, when God is the one playing chess, I'll be whatever He wants me to be. Have you ever read the story of Joshua and the Battle of Jericho? I have. I have read it time and again. I've even watched the Veggie Tales version, "Josh and the Big Wall" ...time and again. Imagine that! In my most recent examination of the text in the first part of the book of Joshua, I realized something. Answer this: Why did God want two spies to go into Jericho? Seriously, think about it. God, who has written all the days of our lives in His book, who has planned our going and our coming, certainly knew the method of the eventual destruction of Jericho. (Reminder: The Israelites marched around the city for seven days in silence. On the seventh day, they marched around it seven times, then shouted for the Lord, and the wall crumbled down.) Now why would the Israelites even need spies to search out the city when it's just going to crumble before them? Here's what I think: I think God chose those two spies to risk their lives in this foreign land for the specific purpose of bringing Rahab the harlot into the line of Christ. Do you realize that Rahab was "saved" through this event? She eventually married and settled in Israel, becoming King David's great-great-grandmother. Her lifestyle must have changed for anyone to even want to marry her. Her faith in the Lord was shown not only in that action of hiding the spies and deceiving the king, but also in the fruitfulness of the rest of her life. I think those spies' entire purpose was to show the power of God to change a life (but not their own lives) and the grace of God to use repentant vessels (but not themselves) for His lasting glory. What is God asking you to do that seems to serve no purpose for yourself, your family, or your own interests? Maybe His whole purpose--and your whole purpose--is for someone else. That's a difficult concept, isn't it?

The Joys of Boys

My 3-year-old son brought me a screw last week with a mischievous look on his face. I knew right away what that meant. We marched to the door to replace the screw. This may be the third or fourth time he has removed the deadbolt. A burglar in the making, eh? He really aggravated me, because he couldn't match up the inner mechanism in the deadbolt, and it required about 20 minutes of my time to fix. No sooner had I triumphantly replaced the bolt and returned the screwdriver, Tobias was up and at it again. This time, I found all the bathtub drains unscrewed. At least he hadn't thrown them in the trash. We surmise that was the fate of all of our remote controls. Up until last week, we had been turning the TV on its side to push the buttons manually when we wanted to change the channel, volume, or input. And we chose to ignore the DVD menus because all we could do was press "play." Good thing they all played in English. Imagine my delight when I opened a package addressed to my husband and found a replacement remote control. Universal. I found it today in my bathroom, missing the battery cover. Sigh. Boys like fiddling. Take it off, put it on (if you're lucky). Unscrew it, rescrew it (sometimes.) Push the button, flip the switch, open the door. Yesterday, my husband and I were sitting on the couch enjoying a play our children had written and rehearsed for us. I think Tobias' role was Superman Prince, from what I could gather. But instead of standing on "stage," he walked across the glass-top table, jumped onto the springy ottoman, and leapt onto the stage. Well, we do have accident insurance, just for him. Praise God, we haven't had to use it yet. Boys can't just walk anywhere. They bounce. Or strut. Or skitter. Or zoom. My sons keep my life entertaining. They will take care of me when I'm old. They will help their sisters. They will invent something wonderful one day. Like a voice-controlled home theatre system. But what fun would that be?