Good Sharer

After I got married and before we had children, I used to joke that I hoped to have boys. My reason for this is that I wanted boys like their father. I used to say "I want to contribute to the supply of emotionally well adjusted men- there's a shortage."

Of course, once I became pregnant, I didn't care either way. Our first child is a girl (Shannon) and our second a boy (Jacob). They are both sweet, precious children, as I regularly tell them. They each have their own gifts and personality. And my son is so very much like his father. In his five years on this earth, I have never seen him refuse to share, especially with his sister. He is also thoughtful. If Jacob goes to the bank or anywhere there is free candy and Shannon is not there, he always asks if he can have one for his sister too. Then he takes it home to her. No matter who he is playing with or what he is eating, of someone asks for it, he shares it. Conversely, little else upsets him as much as when he feels denied a turn or if someone refuses to share with him.

Several weeks ago, he came home from school hungry. This is a regular occurrence because, he says, he is too busy talking to his friends to eat. He packs up what remains, brings it home, and finishes it here. So when he asked for a granola bar, I said "didn't you eat one in your lunch?" I could have sworn I packed him one. He replied "no." Then he modified his answer and said "well, actually, there was some confusion at lunch. Lee and I weren't sure if the bar came out of my lunch bag or hers, so Lee ate it."

I smiled. Of course Lee ate it. Because if Lee wanted it, then he would give it to her. That's his first instinct.

I feel like Jacob's generous heart is a gift from God. He regularly reminds me that it is truly more blessed to give than to receive. Sometimes I am simply awed by how God's grace is shown to me in the faces of my children.

Motherhood and Ministry

I have not been blogging as actively, as you may have noticed. I do go through weeks where blogging once per week is about all I get to. This most recent stint has been due to pastoral care emergencies/ tragedies/crises. I have not spent this many concentrated hours in tears and prayer for such circumstances in a long time- perhaps ever.

Last night, I was at the hospital with a family and a friend of a woman who had nearly succeeded in her suicide attempt. After I got home around 11:15, I sat on the sofa with munchies watching TV, winding down. I did not get to sleep until after midnight. After a somewhat sleepless, allergy filled night, I awoke this morning to several hours of catching up on email work. By lunchtime, I was tired!

So, I treated myself to a nap. I got into bed and slept for two hours. It was heavenly.

God bless my children- they just want to be around me. My oldest is able to contain herself when she knows that I am asleep. Not so for my son. The minute Ray got on the telephone, he took advantage of his opportunity. He dashed into the bedroom...and began throwing up on me. Apparently, his mad dashing caused him to choke on a wheat thin. He flung open the door, ran over to me, and began wretching. Poor guy. He was sobbing. My sheets needed washing. I needed washing. He only needed a new shirt. Neat little guy he is.

So off we went to the bathroom. I just got into the tub because that was about all I had in me. Ray came in, fresh off the telephone, to report another tragedy. Yet as we sat there, in the bathtub, with me covered in regurgitated wheat thins, and my son in my lap, all I could do was laugh! God works in mysterious ways.