
You'd think with a calendar like this, I'd have all the time in the world. But with Justin gone for the better part of 9 days, I found 3 little ones underfoot sapping all the energy I could muster.


I looked back at what our last month in the States looked like...how did we do it all? I guess with tag-teaming the kids and lots of grandparent time! (and two cars and Chick-fil-A and playgrounds and innumerable friends to visit and climate control and...)
Anyways, here I am. Refreshed after a returned husband and an afternoon with just "the ladies". It's almost funny how my weeks here seem to truly go up and down (and by weeks I do mean my moods) and yet I'm always surprised and frustrated when I reach the end of myself. I was so blessed by the prayer that a visiting friend prayed for me at our Ladies Hour (literally, it could not have been much more than that, but WOW).
She prayed for me that I would be the boat of my family. Being German, she laughed as she struggled to remember the right word and couldn't, finding only to say, "this main part of the boat". I think she meant the hull as she prayed that even though I certainly feel the waves and the wind and the chop of the water buffeting (should I instead use: slapping or smacking or pounding?) me from every side, that my family would feel safe and secure within me.
That goes right along with the Bible study book I am doing, "Becoming a Woman of Excellence" by Cynthia Heald. It is wonderful, though I think geared more towards the late teen/early adult crowd. Somehow as I seek to hide my "I had 3 babies in 4 years" body, in a Mus. society nonetheless, modesty lessons are a bit lost on me. However, it talks a lot about self-control in many areas and I have found myself super convicted of how my motherly frustration boils over into yelling. But a good boat protects and harbors its passengers from the sting of the waves.
So I turned to yelling in a whisper. It can be done. Yet I'm pretty sure that's not the equivalent of self-control. So I press on. Encouraged by my dear friend's prayer (and her imported Lindt chocolate) to press on towards the goal: Christ-like-ness. The One who yelled only one recorded time, and never at a child. Oh, Lord, make me more like YOU! Give me peace and patience and kindness and JOY in overflowing abundance. Let me love my children because you have first loved me SO WELL! Let me love them like you love me so well.







