Interior Decorating According to Children

July 23, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 5 Comments

I don’t think my children understand what “interior decorating” means.

I love to daydream about rooms in my house that I will remake into works of art. I enjoy looking at pictures in magazines and collecting ideas from TV shows and friends houses. I dream about getting yards and yards of inexpensive fabric at the PA Fabric Outlet for future curtains. I create floor plans in my mind, full of colors and patterns. When I think about decorating my bedroom, I think about fresh, light blue paint on the walls and a beautiful blue and white quilt for the bed.

I used to have daydreams for my children’s rooms as well. Areli’s room was going have purple bedding and yellow walls featuring lovely framed photos of Anne Geddes baby butterflies. Twelve years have passed since those dreams, and Areli no longer wants purple and butterflies.

Cooper and Calvin share a bright red bunk bed which matches nicely with their area rug of bright red, blues, and greens. Their walls still sport the pastel yellow, mint, and pink colors that were painted by the previous owner for their little girl. It doesn’t bother me too much because in my mind, their walls are the perfect shade of blue. At least we removed the sparkly chandelier.

Nine months ago we created a fifth bedroom in our home for the baby, and I have filled up a file cabinet in my brain with ideas for his room consisting of a many shades of orange and a lot of lions. The walls of his room are still stark and messy white, all patched with putty, waiting to be sanded and painted a warm yellowish, orangey, brown/tan color. The actual official color has yet to be researched and determined. Something like Sherwin Williams’ “Delicious Melon.”

Will my interior decorating dreams ever come to pass? I am still hopeful, although I have not yet been able to do any of the children’s rooms in my 15 years of being a mom. Just for fun and so I could more accurately daydream about decorating their rooms, I posed the question to each child.

“What if you had your own room and you could decorate it any way you wanted to?”

The answers amazed and inspired me, but I realized that they don’t think about decorating in the same way I do. Not by a long shot! The answers ranged from:

“Camouflage loft bed with green walls and a huge closet that locks so no one can touch my stuff.”

“A wall covered with books shelves and books, my own laptop with editing software, new and better cameras.”

“Entertainment center with flat screen TV and game system that flips around to become a dresser with all my clothes inside, blue walls, black ceiling with lights shaped like stars.”

I explained that none of their bedrooms would ever contain a TV or a game system as long as they lived with me, but that did not deter them.

“Flat screen TV, many game systems, and a slide that goes out my window. It will be a water slide but I can shut the water off, and then it will just be a regular slide…Oh, and I want a pool in my room.”

“A bed that comes out of the wall by itself and a pool and a hot tub and a slide and…” This answer was given by Calvin, my talkative 5-year old.

He continued to expound on the details of his dream room for the next 20 minutes. I must admit that my mind kept wandering in and out of the conversation. I caught fragments of his chattering.

“…the toilet will flush by itself….the lava wont hurt me…there will be crazy glue but I wont die…there will be extra feet to put on if you want to be taller…” and on and on it went.

Although I could not make sense of it all, one thing became abundantly clear to me. My definition of “interior decorating” had become much too narrow. What had happened to my big, hairy, audacious dreams? Children seem to be able to tell you exactly what they want, whether or not it is realistic …or even real. And they are not deterred by restrictions and rules. They think out of the box. Or perhaps their boxes are much more vast and exciting than my box. Those boxes become smaller and smaller as the child gets older, I have noticed. But isn’t it impossible, child-like faith that has given birth to solutions and inventions never previously considered?

I pray we can all grab onto that child-like hoping and imagining. Even if it never comes to pass the way we envision it, it sure is a lot of fun! And I pray that my children can hold on to their interior decorating dreams. I would love a house with slides and toilets that flush by themselves!

Life with a House Full of Boys

July 7, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 5 Comments

The pictures that you hung perfectly straight with a measuring tape and a level are always crooked.

Plastic frogs and lizards have found a home in your potted plants.

You find legos in every corner, sofa cushion, and pocket.

Nurf bullets are flying through the air at any time, night or day.

The furniture takes on the smell of stinky boy feet.

Even though they have been admonished to “Be Quiet!” during naptime, the herd of elephants still stampede through the house and up and down the stairs.

Screaming is a common sound, usually not even requiring a mother’s concerned attention.

Wrestling and pain and injuries are all part of the fun.

Food disappears, yet nobody knows where it went.

Mealtimes are a crazy event. (You might even end up with dirty underwear in your soup.)

Super heroes with varying special powers are flying around the house with their capes flapping in the breeze.

Sometimes the disregard for the law of gravity results in crutches.

You may see your toddler wielding a plastic firearm.

The boys might wake up covered in dust mite bites, because their room is so very…well, dusty; not to mention messy, dirty, unkempt, disheveled, and an all around disaster area.

Potty language is considered to be the highest form of humor.

You need your husband to constantly remind you to, “stop worrying, this is normal boy behavior.”

You have many interesting conversations that go something like this:

“Mom! Cooper ate a slug!”
“Is that true Cooper?” you ask, calmly.
“Yes!” Cooper replies with much joy on his animated face.
“Did you chew it or swallow it whole?” You are curious.
“He chewed it,” Cole answers.
“So what did it taste like?” you ask.
“Chocolate!” Cooper responds.
“Cooper, do you know why you shouldn’t have eaten that slug?”
“No…”
“Because I told you that you couldn’t have dessert tonight!” you reply with a smile on your face as you are thinking to yourself, “Boys!! I just love ’em!”

I could describe the perpetual state of your bathroom in a house full of boys…but I don’t want people to stop having little boys.

Are You in Over Your Head?

June 28, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 11 Comments

Are you overwhelmed? Does your life feel impossible? Do you feel completely inadequate and incompetent for the task before you? Good! You may be in just the right place…to see God do the impossible!

I am very familiar with the feeling that my life is out of control, being a mother of many children! I don’t often get to attend special conferences at my church, but I love to listen to the CDs of them at home. I was listening to a CD of Lesley-Anne Leighton talk about her amazing adventures as a missionary. God would regularly do miracles for her as she stepped out in faith. For example, she was taken into custody by Chinese authorities (China is very hostile to the Gospel of Jesus). She was miraculously released after she started speaking to the men in Chinese…and she didn’t know how to speak Chinese! She would do training schools all around the world to teach people to live a supernatural life like hers. As I listened to her teaching on this CD, she said she would share with us her strategy for living such a life. That caught my attention and I listened carefully; so much so that I remember what she said 9 years later. Her strategy was simple; she would follow Jesus wherever he led! This meant that she would get in over her head and watch God do the miracles on her behalf.

A new thought began to dawn in my mind. This was a great strategy for a missionary, traveling to hostile and dangerous parts of the world. But I knew that motherhood was a dangerous and perilous journey as well. Mothers needed miracles just as much as missionaries did! I knew that I needed some! And Lesley-Anne had just told me that it was actually a good thing that I was in over my head…because that is the place where God moves! My courage began to rise.

I had felt in over my head since my second baby showed up and didn’t get the memo from his big sister on how to sleep. He would cry louder than I had ever heard anyone cry, and deprive me of my sleep and almost my sanity! He continued these nighttime disturbances even after I became pregnant with number three.

I had felt overwhelmed since I had three little children and a special needs baby who required many doctors’ appointments and special care. I had no one close by to help and my husband, Chris often traveled for work, being gone for days or weeks at a time.

I had felt overwhelmed when I had three little children, a special needs two-year old and a five-week old baby boy AND Chris and I had to pack up our home, drive cross-country (praying the whole way that I wouldn’t fall asleep at the wheel and kill us all!), and set up a new home in Pennsylvania.

I had felt overwhelmed since I had seven children, home schooled, and enrolled my special needs daughter in a therapy program that I was supposed to accomplish by myself, at home. The man in charge told me that Ashlyn’s therapy program would be fairly easy, only requiring 6 hours a day. I thought to myself, “How can I ever do that?” Yet I wanted to try, because I wanted her to be better so badly. I also felt that God had led me to this program for Ashlyn AND had led me to home school all the other children.

I would wake up at 5 am each morning, immediately feeling nervous about the coming day. My mind would instantly begin to churn with all I had to accomplish and the fact that it was nearly impossible to do so. Life felt like a test, and I would pass the test only if I could accomplish everything I my to-do list. But almost every night I would go to bed with tasks left undone and the feeling of failure. There were a few rare days that I finished everything and thought briefly that I had succeeded…only to look back over my day and realize that I had plowed over everything and everyone who stood in my way. My victory was meaningless, because I did it without love, and my children suffered.

Thinking on these past failures, I would go from being nervous to panicking!!! Lying in bed in the morning, trying to work up the courage to face my impossible day, I would pray.

“Oh, God! I want to love my children today! I want to do therapy with Ashlyn so she can be well! I want to do home school with my children so they will be smart! But I have so many other things I need to do! I should have been up hours ago! There is no way I can do this. This is IMPOSSIBLE! I am in WAY OVER MY HEAD!”

Then one day I was quiet enough to hear the Spirit’s still small voice.

“This day is not a test, it is a gift! I want you to open your eyes and see all the treasures I have hidden for you in this day. Let me bless you in the midst of your business. You are right, my child. Your life is impossible. I designed it that way. I never intended for you to live a safe, easy, comfortable life. I didn’t design you to merely do the possible. I am the God of the impossible, remember! I designed you to do the impossible through me! I can’t fully show my glory unless the situation is Impossible. All that I do through your life is changing eternity. So be at rest. Be at peace. I AM in control.”

That voice changes everything for me! It immediately tears the veil between my crazy, earthy life and the Holy of Holies. I can step out of the temporary and step into the eternal. I can step out of my failures and step into the finished work of Christ. My life takes on a while new significance when I realize that the Most Holy God wants to dwell with me and do miracles through me! And what could be more miraculous than living with so many children and having perfect peace!

Now we have eight children and a ninth baby that takes a lot of time and resources – a new business! I have so many things to do at home, and Chris has so many things to do at our sign shop. I try to help him at the shop and he tries to help me at home, all the while being mindful of our precious children. We are busy almost all of the time. What little “free” time we have is not really free. We are so selective about how we spend our time, trying fiercely to follow Jesus and no one else. There isn’t time and energy and devotion to waste on anything less! It is going to take a miracle to raise our children the way we should AND make our business successful. Both Chris and I are sure that we are in WAY OVER OUR HEADS! Yet we know that Jesus led us here and through him we are doing miracles.

I am so encouraged by Mark Batterson and what he wrote in The Circle Maker.“If you’ve never been overwhelmed by the impossibility of your plans, then your God is too small.”

So are you in over your head? If you got into this situation by following someone other than Jesus, start following him now and just see what he will do! If it was Jesus who got you into the crazy mess called your life, let your heart take courage! This is his specialty, doing miracles through little you! So relax, let go, and enjoy riding on his waves of grace…and expect signs and wonders to follow you.

Beauty

June 25, 2014June 25, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 9 Comments

It makes life worthwhile. It makes a house a home. It makes ordinary moments dazzling. It is beauty. We can find beauty almost anywhere if we really look. Yet the place that the American woman is least likely to find beauty? In her own reflection. Why is it hard to see beauty in ourselves?

Years ago my daughter posted a sticky note on my bathroom mirror that said, “You are beautiful Mom!” I saw it, read it, and thought, “How sweet! I love my sweet daughter!” But did I take the message to heart? Did I look at my reflection and think, “Yes, I am beautiful!” NOPE! I immediately dismissed it as the foolish sentiments of a child who did not yet recognize true beauty. I was the adult, and I had lived with my not-so-beautiful self for a long time, and I knew that I wasn’t beautiful. One little sticky note was not going to change the facts.

Yet I began to consider this – perhaps children are the best judge of what is beautiful; being young, innocent, and having no hidden agendas. Perhaps if my daughter truly believed that I was beautiful, then I should believe it too. Interesting idea… but it takes time and effort to change those ingrained thought patterns.

Awhile after the birth of my seventh child, I was looking at myself in the mirror and lamenting. I wasn’t back to the shape that I wanted to be in. In fact, I suspected that my body would never be the same. Not that it was perfect to begin with. I was feeling quite sad and disgusted with myself. Then I heard the soft voice of God speak into the mess that was my own thoughts.

“Do not direct hatred toward that which I love. Do not despise that which I call holy.”

He said it with love and a solemn seriousness. I felt a holy fear of the Lord, and suddenly I realized several things. I despised and hated the way that I looked. My attitude towards myself offended God because he created me, loved me, and valued me so highly. He said that my body was his temple and his temple was holy. His temple required honor and I was not giving myself that honor, therefore I was dishonoring him. But more than anything else, I realized that he loved me…and his love made me beautiful.

After that I would practice loving myself the way that God did. I would speak beautiful words over me like, “Body, you are the temple of God! The almighty God lives inside of you! You are holy! You are a wonder!” I wanted to speak blessings over myself rather than curses.

Sue Monk Kidd wrote about a touching scene that she had witnessed. A young girl was sad and ashamed after someone had made fun of her freckles. Her Grandmother tried to get her to see the truth.

“I love your freckles! What could be more beautiful than freckles?” her grandmother told her.

With all sincerity, the child turned to her grandmother and answered, “Wrinkles!”

Why were wrinkles so beautiful to the young girl? Because the face that loved her had wrinkles. And what is more beautiful than the face that loves you? My own grandmother was one of my favorite people when I was younger. She was fun and spent endless hours reading comic books to me, playing games with me, and taking me on hikes. She loved me, and I thought her wrinkled, tan, and slightly leathery face was beautiful! She did not agree with me, however. I would find family photos, taken during our fun adventures together, with small little circles cut out of them. I would study them more closely and realize that the holes were always in the place where Grammy should have been. I asked her why she did this, and she would answer, “I didn’t like how I looked in that picture.”

My Grammy, LaVera Gisselman

To me, a photographic memory that contained an empty space was ruined! And for what? So Grammy could feel better that no one else would see her looking less than perfect. But she was beautiful to me! Love, gentleness, and kindness make us beautiful. We need less make-up and more love! I need to scowl less at my children and smile more!

Are you having trouble finding beauty in the mirror? Believe what your children know about you! When you are looking into the face of your baby and thinking that this child is the most beautiful sight in all the world, I bet your baby is thinking the same thing about you! Believe your husband when he gives you a compliment. When he refers to you with that special term of endearment, open your heart to it and let it in! Chris likes to call me “Cutie”, and I love it. I am pretty cute, now that I think about it!

Beauty is always found in the face of the one who loves you! If you can’t seem to find beauty in yourself, gaze into the face of Jesus. In his face you will find perfect love, perfect peace, and perfect beauty. His love makes us lovely. As we behold him, we become like him. And if you look long enough, you will realize that the perfect beauty…is who you really are!

My Children Aren’t Perfect

June 19, 2014June 20, 2014 / Anne (Grace is my Superhero) / 9 Comments

I had such a Glorious Vision of Motherhood. I had such amazing dreams about child rearing. Dreams fueled by extensive reading.

Books about how to multiply your baby’s intelligence.

Books about how to make your child physically superb.

Books about how to build strong immune systems with a traditional, whole foods diet.

Books about how to foster a lifetime love of learning by homeschooling and employing each child’s individual learning style.

Books about how to raise happy, obedient children.

And many, many more.

I was totally confident that I could achieve these goals with my knowledge and ability. Plus God gave me these children, so he would make this glorious vision of perfection come to pass to be a beacon to the world…wouldn’t he?

An honest evaluation of my life and my children revealed to me that I have failed on every point with every child. Every one of those dreams of child rearing has died…my Glorious Vision of Motherhood obliterated.

And what is left in the ashes of total defeat? Dirty, messy, disobedient children who are neither geniuses nor prodigies, neither physically superb nor perfectly healthy. They are many times rude, disrespectful, average, and markedly below average. They often hate school and love soda. And do I blame them? No, I blame myself totally and completely because I am the Mother and I have failed.

“God,” I ask, “How can I move forward?”

He answers in the ancient verses of Isaiah 46:6,7.

“Those who lavish gold from the purse, and weigh out silver in the scales – they hire a goldsmith, who makes it into a god; Then they fall down and worship! They lift it to their shoulders, they carry it, they set it in its place, and it stands there; It cannot move from its place.”

What if I had all the time and money to carry out all the good advice in all of those books? What if I had the wealth and the gold to hire a goldsmith to create for me the perfect child? Beautifully carved, perfectly painted. It would never get dirty or have a runny nose. It would never pee in its bed, poop in its underwear, or throw up on the couch. It would never be rude or illicit dirty looks from old ladies in grocery stores. It would never scream at me and backtalk. I wouldn’t have to worry about it falling out of a tree and breaking its perfect neck. I wouldn’t have to prescreen every TV show it watches in order to protect its pristine mind. I wouldn’t have to constantly be concerned about its schooling or properly stimulating its mind. I wouldn’t have to wonder, during those moments of eerie silence, what they were destroying or who they were torturing. I could be at peace knowing my perfect child was still sitting there…perfect. I could lift them up on my shoulder and show the world with no shame. Look everyone! My stunning, marvelous child! Forever and perpetually perfect and unchanging! Yet cold and hard and lifeless. No breath, no life, no will, no heart, no desires, no sin…no love.

DEAR GOD!!! My dream for my children is an idol! A gaudy idol with eternally unblinking eyes. That sickening chill fills my soul as I realize – I must cast that idol down, see it smash into a million pieces at my feet and ask for forgiveness.

I don’t want idols! I want children. I want the grimy, rosy cheek warm against mine. I want the smell of dirt and sweat as I embrace them. I want the tornadoes of chaos creating one mess after another. I want the inappropriate thoughts blurted out as inappropriate words. I want to bear their disrespect for everything I hold dear. I want to see them struggle and sin and fall…because I get to see them rise again. We all fall short and miss the mark, and so will my children. When they do fall, it will not be my fault. I get to love them and pray and love them some more.

My new dream for motherhood is immerging like the first rays of the dawn. I am not sure what it will look like at midday, but I imagine it something like this.

Brilliant, dazzling, blinding, sparking jewels of worth beyond all estimation…peaking out bit by bit from cracked and broken jars of clay.

2 Corinthians 4:7

“Our bodies are made of clay, yet we have the treasure of the Good News in them.” God’s Word

“But we have this treasure in clay jars, so that it may be clear that this extraordinary power belongs to God and does not come from us.” NRS

Whew! How light I feel without carrying those heavy idols around. Now I can let God carry me (Is 46:3,4). He gave my all of these wild children, so I think I will let him carry them too! I am a much better mother without the false Glorious Vision of Motherhood. Now I am free to laugh and enjoy…the imperfection of it all!