On Tithing to the Toilet

Well, folks. Let me give it to you straight. There are those Sunday mornings where the stars align, the “get-along” and “be happy & pleasant” fairies wave their magic wands over the children while they sleep, all goes according to plan, and everyone is dressed and cheerfully out the door on time for church. (Theoretically. I say that in faith that this occurs for someone, somewhere.)

And then there are those Sunday mornings when your kid drops their offering money down the toilet at the moment you need to leave. Mmmhmmm.

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Dickens on Motherhood

“It was the best of times, it was the worst of times….”


I think Charles Dickens must’ve had small children when this famous line ceremoniously plopped itself into his genius mind.

Audrey is home sick, today, which is actually not part of the “worst of times” reference. I’m very sorry that she’s not feeling well, but I’m secretly (or not-so-secretly) happy to have a whole day with her at home. I miss my time with that kid.

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On The Burden of Choice

All you parents out there, have you ever found yourself wondering why there is so much conflict in your house? Why no one seems to be listening to one another? Why there are bad attitudes flying constantly? …No? Ok, yeah. Me neither.

On a completely unrelated note, our kids are almost perfect, but we were just brainstorming about how we could encourage them to become even more, um, angelic, so we are trying a new behavior chart. Basically, the kids have clips, and they move up or down depending on the choices they make. When they move down, there are consequences, but if they keep their clip at the top, at the end of the day they can choose a small reward for tomorrow. The rewards are things like an extra book at bedtime, an extra show, one less Saturday chore, etc.

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My "Sheroes"

So yesterday was International Women's Day, and it reminded me again of what I call The Angst. That one that creeps up every now and again, those feelings of injustice at the way God's daughters around the world have suffered under the weight of oppression. And then there's the angst about the subtle ways patriarchy plays a part even in our society now. But I'm actually not here to talk about that today. The last time the angst starting creeping up, I had a conversation with God about it. Here's the thing, I don't want the job of "speaking out about women's issues." I really, really don't. I so admire those for whom that is their calling, and I cheer them on. I do NOT want that job. But I still have these feelings sometimes, so what do I with them?

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