Casting Lots

Proverbs 18:18
Casting the lot settles disputes and keeps strong opponents apart. 

"Casting Lots" is equal to flipping a coin, or drawing straws or rolling a dice or any number of other ways.  Some may say it's gambling, but when used as in tended (with prayer and for the purpose of settling disputes) then it is righteous.

As we ALL know, kids fight over toys, books, who gets to go first, who's turn it is in the front seat etc.  Yesterday was "one of those days" and my 2 children decided to fight over everything.  VERY trying on my patience. (which I confess I did lose once)

Needless to say, I had had enough!  As I was walking by the fridge, the "Brother Offend Check List" caught my eye.  On the chart was the verse from Proverbs 18 as quoted above.  So I made the kids a dice and explained the verse and said this was the new way to settle disputes or arguments.  They are to roll the dice and who ever has the highest number get to go first and the other person gets the opportunity to practice patience and wait their turn.  They really liked this idea.

Later in the day when they were fighting (again) over something, Pumpkin said "stop, we have to cast lots."  Both kids walked over to the book shelf, got he dice and took turns rolling,  Boo got to go first this time.

The dirt under my finger nails

It could take several days of scrubbing to get it all out!  Maybe I should buy gardening gloves?  Nah....I love the feeling of the earth beneath my hands to much.

You see before you (starting closest to you)  6 raspberry plants, 2 blueberry bushes, 2 blackberry plants and 1 strawberry plant.  I figure the strawberry play will span out quite a bit so i might not need more than 1.  I still have to steak the raspberry plants, but there is plenty of time for that as they are not big enough yet to require steaks.

It was a big pain in the butt to rip up all the grass and shake - or beat) the soil from the roots.  And I kept finding lumps of coal in the dirt.

The rocks are to protect the earth from the rain. That's the spot where the rain falls off the roof and hits the ground.

And of course, The pin wheel at the end.  I had 2 of them but Matt broke the other one :(  Good thing they are from the dollar store.


Next I have to tackle the back-yard along the fence.  There we plan to plant some veggies that we like to eat.  And I suspect that I will have an equally difficult time with the grass and I know I'll have an extra challenge with rocks.  See how at the end of the photo  is the driveway full of rocks?  my property backs onto  a parking lot full of rocks.  so that might be a problem, but I won't know until I start digging.

Also along the side of the house I'm going to plant some herbs that I will bring inside for the winter so I can have fresh herbs all winter long.  YUM!

You might remember that my kids planted some stuff in pots during the winter.  I'm sad to report that Pumpkin was overzealous in watering them and consequently they died.

My Messiah Lives!

I watched numbly, looking up to the good and gentle man who hung on a cross before me…He had been my friend. I thought he was the Messiah, the living Son of God, who would save His people, like he had saved me. But I confess I found myself doubting….there he was dying before my eyes. Why would he not save himself? I didn’t understand. I felt such pain, grief and anger rip through my soul I thought I would break.

The thief crucified next to Jesus turned to him. I strained to hear as the man murmured, "Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom."

Jesus' words to the condemned man echoed clearly across the hilltop: "Today you will be with me in Paradise." A chill tingled down my spine. Even at death, Jesus kept on forgiving. My thoughts surged back to the first time I had met him and how my life was changed forever.

I grew up in a village along the Sea of Galilee. I was wealthy yet I was unhappy.

I was no stranger to the oppression and torment of the demonic. Often driven to compulsive, destructive acts, I despised myself, hated my deeds, but couldn't seem to stop. I tried so hard, I called out to God in the middle of my darkness to rescue me. Finally, my husband grew disgusted and impatient with my erratic behaviour. He sent me back home to my father. I thought my life was over until I heard of a man from Nazarene was teaching great things. My heart leapt into my throat. Maybe he could help me!

The kingdom of God was right here, he said. He talked of forgiveness, of cleansing, of wholeness. The sick and maimed were healed when he touched them. God seemed to be all around. At Jesus' command demons would come out screaming, and lives were liberated and transformed.

I felt strangely drawn to Him…yet there was this nameless terror raging inside me. Could I trust Him? Dare I even try? What if he couldn’t help me? What if he rejects me? I had to force myself to join the group that crowded around Jesus. My turn came at last. I looked up in panic. He looked down in love.

Then his eyes narrowed and seemed to pierce right into my soul. I stepped back in fear. “Oh no! What have I done?” I thought. His words were hard: "Come out of her, you foul demons, and let her go!" My body stiffened, my chest tightened. I thought I would burst. I wanted to scream. And then it was over. My muscles began to relax. I saw his gentle smile. "Mary, you're forgiven," he said, "and you're free."

Free?  I thought.  Dare I even hope that might be true? Then I realized that I was free! I felt so clean, so light, so renewed. I wanted to dance, to sing. I jumped up and started hugging all the startled women who stood nearby. I skipped home that night. Joy and peace consumed me.

An aching cry from the cross jerked me back to the present. My Lord was dying.

I listened through my tears. The voice that once proclaimed God's kingdom on the hillsides of Galilee now shouted hoarsely, "It is finished!" His head dropped to his chest.

Thunder clouds which had been gathering ominously all afternoon now cracked. Lightning flashed across the gruesome hilltop. Jesus' body hung limp; the others writhed. Around her she could hear the sobbing of Jesus' mourners. She took one long last look, then buried her face and wept.

Whack! An ear-splitting scream from one of the thieves pierced the eerie darkness. A soldier had shattered his legs with a club to make sure he died before Sabbath began at sundown. Whack! Another scream.

They came to Jesus. Oh, no, dear God, spare him, I prayed. He's already dead. The centurion knew, I could see, but to make sure, he motioned to a soldier to thrust his spear into the Teacher's chest. Bloody water gushed out, and then slowed to a dribble for a time. Surely, he was dead.

A soldier began to loosen the nail that fixed Jesus' feet to the cross. Two others on ladders unlashed the crossbeam from the upright and carefully lowered it -- Jesus' body still attached -- to their compatriots below. A couple minutes more were needed to pull the spikes from splintered holes in the crosspiece where countless other hands had bled.

Now I recognized Nicodemus who brought two new disciples. They were carrying a stretcher onto which they lifted the body. In the courtyard outside the sepulcher, I carefully washed the pale body, removing every trace of dried blood from his mutilated back.

Night was falling. Nicodemus and the others worked quickly now, binding the body with long strips of linen, enfolding what few spices they had with them as they wrapped. Finally, they tenderly lay the body on a limestone niche in the new tomb. I watched while they heaved the massive stone into place across the opening to the tomb. It was dark when they turned to leave.

The Sabbath seemed to drag on endlessly. Despite the pain the thought evoked, I determined to go back Sunday morning to finish anointing the Master's body with spices. I owed him that.

Saturday's sun finally dipped below the mountains; Sabbath was over I hurried to the spice merchant's shop and pounded on the door until he came downstairs and let me in. Spices for a burial, I insisted. No, I couldn't wait till morning.

Sleep that night came in brief snatches. Long before sunrise, I was dressed to meet two other women I’d asked to help me. Gray dawn streaked the sky as they set out. Hurrying along, I had forgotten about the stone! Who will move it?

As we came in sight of the tomb, I gasped. The stone had already been pushed aside. "Grave robbers!" I cried. "Can't they leave him alone -- even in death?"

I ran and ran until I found Peter and John. "They've taken the Lord's body out of the tomb," I said breathlessly. "We don't know where they've put him!"

Peter and John took off sprinting. Too tired to run any farther, I trudged slowly back to the garden tomb. I peered into the dank tomb.

Only coiled shroud-wrappings remained where the body had been. Suddenly, the dim tomb was lit by the dazzling appearance of two men. Instinctively, I shielded my eyes from the brightness and bowed in terror. One of the angels spoke:

"Why do you seek the living among the dead?"

What does he mean? I wondered. What is he talking about?

"You seek Jesus of Nazareth, who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen as he said."

I was dazed, even after the angels departed. Risen? I thought. How could Jesus be alive? I had washed the corpse myself. Wasn't it just too good to be true? Could I cling to something this wonderful only to have my hopes dashed once more?

But if it were true……. if it were true, then Jesus' whole life had meaning. If it were true, then he was the Messiah after all. If it were true, then the One who healed my tormented spirit had conquered death itself. If it were true....

The sound of footsteps intruded on my thoughts. I glanced up. It must be the caretaker, the gardener. He asked me why I was weeping and who I was looking for. Didn't he know who had been buried here? I asked him to return the body if he had taken it. I looked at the ground, struggling to hold back my tears. He couldn’t help me. The only one who could help me was gone.

He reached out and lifted my chin until our eyes met. As I looked through my tears, he said my name. My heart raced, my hair stood up on my arms. Could it be? Oh! It WAS Him! I dropped to my knees and kissed his feet. Jesus, my Lord was alive! Alive forever more! After a few moments, I looked up but He had slipped away. I ran and told the disciples what had happened. They were cynical and jeered at me “Sure, Mary…..why should the Lord appear to YOU anyway – a woman and one with YOUR history no less?”

Why indeed? I thought. He appeared to His disciples later that same day…but He had chosen me first! Maybe to show me that I was truly accepted. Maybe to calm my doubt. Maybe to show that his forgiveness was forever. Why indeed? I was never sure. But this I did know: My Messiah lives!

Where is the reward in that?

I have had the opportunity to really embrace a few passages over the course of that last few months.  To love your neighbour as yourself, to pray for those who persecute you and to show kindness/love to those who hate you.  We live in that is called a Company House.  That is a house that was built by the mining companies when the town I live in was a coal mining mining town.  They are like mirror image town houses but they are not very sound proof.  There is  quite a bit of noise that passes through the walls, especially upstairs.  I can hear when they turn on the radio or TV, when they open and close drawers in their kitchen and even hear them walking upstairs.  They can likewise here noise from our side and with 2 active kids and a home-day care, there must be quite a bit of noise.  2 parents and their almost 20 year old son live next door.  The mom told me how noisy it can be and I honestly had no idea - the houses in Toronto are much more sound proof so I just assumed this house was too.  I apologized and immediately worked on lowering the noise level.  This was appreciated and now the parents next door and I are on good terms.

The son is a different story.  He is an only child and spoiled (the parents words - not mine) and he doesn't like kids.  Also before we moved in our great-aunt pearl lived here and she is a sweet 93 year old women who obviously makes much less noise than a family of 4 or a home day care.  Needless to say he was not impressed.  We ad exchanged a few words before about keeping the kids off the gravel drive way  (which I hate that we have) as it drives his mom nuts when it's disturbed.  Fine - I can be accommodating to that.  But kids break rules and he happened to be walking home when such an instance occurred and proceeded to yell at me and give me a piece of his mind, then tell me to get off his property before he calls the cops.  I replied, I can stand here and listen to you or I can correct my children which I was about to do.  Kids sometimes break rules.  I will reprimand them and fix the gravel.  This didn't satisfy him, so he called him mom at work, then came out and yelled at me again to get off his property (which I wasn't on).  When the mom came home from work I went out to apologize and make sure that I have the right dividing line between out 2 lawns as her son didn't seem to think I did.  I was indeed right and she said not to worry about it - kids break rules.  In the middle of our conversation, the son comes out and starts yelling at me to stop harassing his mom.  wow.  She tells him off.

Not long after another problem arises.  If the son thinks the noise level in the house is too loud, he would bang on the walls.  This annoys me and scares the kids.  Just before Christmas it gets really bad.  I guess their room was beside his room or the office where he might study and he would bang on the wall as they were going to bed - and as we know kids don't always go to bed nicely - sometimes they resist.  After about a week of this, they kids were terrified of going to bed because of the monster next door.  I tried to explain what was going on, but they didn't really understand.   One specific night it was ridiculous.  I was only speak, and he would bang so loudly, the pictures on the wall would shake.  That was it - I had had enough.  His mom had asked me to talk to her if there was a problem, but she wasn't home, and this needed addressing.  So I went next door to ask him to stop banging for about 20 minutes while I settle my kids to go to sleep, and then there would be quiet until the morning.  Well - I have NEVER been spoken to in such a manner.  Nothing but "piss and vinegar, venom and poison" came out of his mouth.   He was obviously very angry and said a lot of nasty things.  Replying to anything he said would be almost pointless.  So I let him rant and vent.  Then he threatened me, and my kids.  To which I said, "threaten me again and I will call the police.  I have broken no laws and what  you are doing is called harassment.  I suggest you watch what you say".  That didn't make him happy and when he couldn't get a rise out of me and he ran out of things to say, he tried to provoke me.  I simply said that when he's ready to have a conversation like an adult, to let me know.  And with that I walked away.  Put the kids in my bed to sleep - they were so scared that they went down right away.  And then I burst into tears.

The mom came home, and I could hear them yelling.  Someone knocked on my door, but I didn't answer.

The kids were scared, and I was angry.  So what did I do and tell my kids to do?  Pray.  I said that we need to love others even if they don't love us back and we need to pray for those who are mean to us.  So we pray for our neighbour and we show them kindness often.  If the son and I cross paths, I will say hello (which is followed by a 'f*** off' from him)  But if he wants to be in a bad mood, that's his problem, not mine.

And this isn't easy to do, but it's the right thing to do.  If we only love those who love us back, where is the reward in that?  And here is an opportunity to show the love of Christ by showing love.

I'm Telling.......

I hear this in my house mostly from Pumpkin.  So I made up this chart to help her know when she's reporting and when she's tattling.  (i made the picture really big so you could read the words). It has thus far proven to be a good tool.

The amazing power of prayer

Like her mother, Pumpkin has motion sickness.  It was really bad when I was a child and seems to have diminished over time.  I still feel sick on long car rides, on the GO train and TTC and when flying, but I no longer toss my cookies.  To drive into the nearest town is about a 30 minute drive, so I usually save up my errands and run a bunch of them at once so I don't have to go very often.  When we drive into town (until  recently) Pumpkin has either cried the whole way there and back that her tummy hurts, or she actually throws up.  I had to take a plastic bag with my on the TTC every day because she was sure to thrown up too.

Giving her regular gravol every time I need to go on longish car rides is not an option.  A friend pointed me in the direction of the organic ginger gravol which is perfectly fine for her to take.  The problem is that the first time she took it, she chewed it.  That's like taking a piece of raw ginger and taking a bit, like you would bite an apple. EW!  it's a VERY strong taste.  Next time I ground it up and put it in honey.  Better, but she still had a melt down.

Yesterday we took Boo into town because it was it birthday.  So after 30 minutes of her melting down over it, I decided to try a new tactic - Prayer.  In the middle of my kitchen, I sat with Pumpkin and we prayed for her tummy to "be safe and not get sick" (her words) while we were in the car today.  God answered her prayer and she wasn't sick at all then entire day.

Once we got home, I reminded her that her tummy hadn't hurt the entire time and then we prayed again to thank God for answering her prayer. 

It was just a small thing, but to her it was amazing that the God of the "whole world is protecting my little tummy in the car"

Amen.

one a penny, two a penny.......

 Money management is something that I have only just recently got a handle on how to properly handle my money.  That is learning experience I can save (or try to save) my children.  Now that they are are old enough (and almost old enough) to understand the concept of money and how it works, I thought of how I could start teaching them about money management.  First of all, when they ask for something, I always make a reference to our budget.  If we're in the grocery store and they ask for something, I show them my shopping list, how much project I will spend and how much room I have put in the monthly budget for food.  Then I explain that I have room or that I don't have room to grant their request.  That brings up questions like, what is a budget? how does it work? And that's a great starting point.  But now I want to drive it home a bit more.  Every week I have been giving them chump change to put into the collection plate.  God gives us everything, so it's only right that we give some of it back.  To help me teach them I bought a book called The ABC's of Handling Money God's Way.

They also each have the Magnetic Responsibility Charts from Melissa & Doug where they can learn about responsibility, working with the family as a team to accomplish goals (be they the dishes or putting toys away).  I can use this to help them earn their allowance that I will soon implement.  By achieving a certain amount of magnets, the can earn some money.  Then I will help them divide the money into 3 jars.  1 jar for Tithe, 1 jar to Save and 1 Jar to Spend.  I just went to the dollar store and bought some jars and used the label inside to make a label for their intended use.  

My prayer is that this will make good money management a habit so that when they get older and are entrusted with more money, and get jobs that they will know what the right and proper thing to do is and hopefully they won't find themselves in debt.


We (being being the parents) have also changed out tune on money.  If we don't have the money for it up front (baring an emergency) then we don't buy it.  We save for it and then buy it.  That way we can be a living example as well.

oh - so you don't have a real job then

I was recently talking to someone from my old stomping ground in Toronto who was asking what I do work work out here.  I said I stay at home with my kids and I look after a few others as well during the day.

"oh - so you don't have a real job then."

Excuse me?  don't have a real job?  Ok....for all those who think that staying home with kids is soooo easy, let me paint a picture of an average day for me.  Average meaning in the middle.  I will have better and worse days then I describe.  Some days are insane and I want to pull my hair out and some days are so easy it's laughable.

A typical day.

starts at about 2 or 3am when one of my kids comes into my bed.  (usually Boo)
by 4 or 5 the other one is in bed and I fitfully sleep while I get jabbed or kicked with some limb of one of them while my hubby usually is snoring through the whole thing.  Sometimes he takes one and hugs them and they fall soundly back asleep.

by 6am I've given up on sleeping, so I get up and get dressed etc.

Then kids will either wake up with me then or shortly there after and ask for breakfast.  After they have changed their mind a million times, they still can't agree.  I give up and cook 2 different breakfasts.  They don't usually finish their whole breakfast, so I eat what they don't eat and wash up the dishes.

Then we get dressed.  They pick their clothes and put them on.  Pumpkin will change her mind a few more time and I have to tell her to put all the clothes away that she doesn't want to wear and no they do not need to go in the laundry hamper.

Teeth get brushed and I fight with pumpkin to let me brush her hair.

at 7am we read some books or play a game or do some puzzles.  If I'm super tired, then I put on a veggie tales for them while I read my bible and try to catch at least 5 minutes to pray.

by 8am the first 2 kids I look after have arrived, the 10 month old and the 6 year old.
8:30 the 2 year old arrives and we all go for a walk to take the 6 year old to school and walk back.
The 2 year old cries the whole time for her mommy

I have to harness Boo and the 2 year old together while I push the 10 month old in the stroller and pumpkin and the 6 year old walk.  Once we arrive home, we have snack time and then we go back out side or play in the living room with whatever.  There is usually at least 1 fight over a toy.  the 2 year old is still crying.  Can't get her to stop unless I constantly make her the center of my attention.

10am the other 2 year old arrives.  He runs off and grabs the first toy and yells MINE at the of his lunges.
Boo has to pee but he completely misses the toilet .  I gotta clean that up.  then I have to change diapers.
Next we do calendar time and read some books.

at 10:30 I need to cook lunch so I tell the kids to pick up all the toys - this takes about 30 minutes as they get distracted and start playing.  I run back and forth between then kitchen and the living room, cooking and reminding them to clean up.  and the 10 month old is screaming because i put her down...and she's cutting teeth.
11 we all sit down to eat.  I feed the baby taking mouth fulls in between.
11:30 everyone either naps or has quiet time.  Pumpkin and Boo have out grown their naps so we play quietly in the kitchen while the baby sleeps upstairs and the other 2 nap on the couches.

Lunch and AM snack dishes get cleaned up.

a moment of peace.


by 1:30 everyone is up.  diapers are changed and we get dressed to walk back to the school to pick up the 6 year old.  the two 2 year olds and Boo get harnessed together, 10 month old goes back in the stroller and off we go.

Once we return, we play outside in the back yard a bit.  The first 2 year old, just stands there.  everyone else runs around.

at 3 we come in and have another snack, pick-nick style in the living room.  why not?

Then more free play.  more fights over toys and books.

by 4pm the 10 month old and one of the 2 year olds are gone.  by 4:30 the other 2 year old is gone. and by 5:30 the 6 year old is gone.

Boo and pumpkin help me cook supper and eat.

at 6:30 we usually go for a walk.  once we are back, they have a bath and we read books, then it's off to bed.  And that is usually a battle that takes about 20 minutes for me to win.

by 8:30 they are sleeping in bed.  I'm back down stairs to clean up dishes and sweep (again) and mop the floor, vacuum the carpet and tidy up.  by 9:15 my work is finished and I can finally take a shower. 9:30 my hubby comes home and I fix his supper and talk with him while he eats.  now it's 10pm and after washing up (again) I can finally get to do what I want to do.

Oh wait....I'm usually too tired, so I go to bed for 4 hours of solid sleep until Boo comes into bed at about 2 or 3 am.

And if that doesn't sound like work, then I donno what is!

pulling my hair out

 This is what I look like right now.

I'm having one of those days where I want to just lock myself in the bathroom...or go back to bed and stay there...or go out for a very loooooooong walk (yes even in the snow and cold)

This is a venting post - I need to put my frustration somewhere, and my hubby is at work so I can't talk to him.

I run a home day care and normally my days are pretty good.  There are a few moments that are challenging, but that's to be expected.  But today takes the cake.

Boo is on one of his rampages and feels the need to be naughty and pull everything off the shelves, or empty the pantry and pull out all the pots and pans, or fight constantly with his sister. 
Pumpkin is having a bad day too and feels the need to argue over EVERYTHING.  she's spent a lot of time in time out today.
That alone is enough to try my patience (which happens to be particularly thin today)  I'm NOT having a good day displaying the fruits of the spirit.  I'm not being very gentle in my speech and I've lost my temper once or twice.

The 2 year old I look after has literally been crying since they were dropped off at 8:30 this morning.  And not just sulking or sniffling...I mean full out crying her eyes out....to the point where she puked she was crying so hard.  she will cry until after her nap and is only happy the last hour or so of the day.  The problem is that I can't do anything to get her to stop.  I've tried every trick in the book short of bribing her to stop (which I will not do)  as soon as I stop making her the center of my attention she is back at the crying at the top of her lungs.

I pray that a nap will improve her and that I can regain my focus.