Testing Patience

Today was a day that God used to strengthen me. To stretch me. To test my patience and my willingness to lean on Him.

You see, Noah is my little wild child. God knows I love him, but he tests and pushes his limits every.single.day. Just when I thought he couldn’t push me any further, today happened.

Noah is the reason why I wanted to pull my hair out today. Noah is the reason why a glass of wine  sounded so very good this evening. Noah is the reason why I was crying out to God for strength all.day.long.

Not a bad thing, crying out to God. I really should do it more often.

Just last week, I started a day of school with the kids only to see grumpiness, unwillingness to obey and get along, disgruntled spirits, and loads of contention.

I cried out to God for help.

That day not much math work was done, no spelling words were practiced, penmanship was put on the back burner, and no one learned about the early explorers. Instead, we spent an entire day – yes, hours – reading and discussing God’s Word. We talked about obedience and contentment, kindness, love and loyalty. We prayed for each other and we prayed for ourselves.

At the end of the day I was tired. My kids were tired. But, it was a day spent stretching and growing. A test, of sorts.  And, I think we all passed.

Today? I’m not so sure.

I Know

I have a new life growing inside of my womb.
A precious baby to be added to our gaggle of children.

Soon-to-be-seven children for whom I am responsible.
To teach. To train. To guide. To love. To nurture.


I’m tired. I’m overwhelmed.


I know that God has a perfect plan.

I know that God will provide.

I know that God does not give us more than we can handle.

I know that God works in me and through me in spite of my weaknesses.

soaring eagle
Do you not know? Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.
He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.

{Isaiah 40:28-31}

There is hope for me yet!

Tonight, while Daddy was snowboarding with our twins (yes, on in to the dark), I decided that I needed some air. Of course I had to bring my youngest four along on my quest for this new air, but I HAD to get out of the house.

So, I did what any insane mom with four young kids should do when she feels antsy. I took my little darlings out for pizza and promised them ice cream.

Only my kids didn’t act like little darlings.

They squirmed and fidgeted. They crawled under the table and tried to crawl over the table. They chattered incessantly. Quite loudly, I must add. They filled their cups with root beer. And then pink lemonade. They spilled their root beer. And their pink lemonade.

And instead of enjoying this time out with my four youngest children, I grumbled and complained. I raised my voice and reprimanded them. I took back my promise of ice cream.

And now, after they have all been tucked in and are sound asleep, I feel bad.

After all, they were just being kids. Kids fidget. Kids are loud. Kids spill stuff.

But I was worried. Worried about what others may think. Worried about what the parents of the beautiful little girls, both sitting quietly as they played on their bright blue DS, would think of me – the crazy mom with four unruly, and very loud, little brats.

So often do I worry about how we may be perceived that I forget to enjoy my children. I mean truly enjoy them.

Too often do I shush my children from speaking their minds for fear that we, as parents, would be seen as too lenient. Or that we may believe that ourselves.

Sometimes I even squelch their feelings, because kids shouldn’t be allowed to dislike a person, or feel anger towards someone for not believing them, right?

I find myself, on occasion, feeling as though I am simply suffering through this season of child-rearing, instead of truly enjoying these short days with the amazing little blessings God has given us to love.


My prayer, in this new year, is that I would ::

listen to my kids more,
shush them less

see things through their eyes,
not force them to see things through mine

play with my children more,
make fewer excuses

laugh more,
worry less.