Cerebral Collapse

I admire my husband.  He works really hard.  Most days he works 10-12 hours, comes home to play with the boys and helps put them to bed, and then works another 2-3 hours in the office.  Just today he drove to Los Angeles and back.  There are days he’s doing stucco, installing pools, and crawling through attics.  But nothing he does can compare to this:

“Mommy, do horses dig?  Why are you turning left?  Are we at the library?  Why is the light green?  Why is it red?  Why didn’t you stop when it was yellow?  Can we go home now?  Can I have a snack?  Mommy?  Why do you have eyebrows?  Can I watch Backyardigans?  Why do I have to sit on the potty?  How do you say ‘flagpole’ in Armenian?  Would Dede know?  Why does Silas get to go in the car first?  Are the neighbors home?  Can we play outside?  Mommy?  When is Daddy coming home?  What in the sky is white?  Is the strawberry stand open?  Can we take cookies to the firemen?  Why do we have to listen to James’s song again?  Where did Jesus die?  Why does the leprechaun keep his gold at the end of the rainbow?  Is this a real penny?  Can I have another snack?  Can you come to my room with me?  Why can’t I step in the puddle?  What does that even mean?  Mommy?  What else is green?  Why doesn’t that bus have a stop sign on it?  What’s inside a tree?  Why is the fence dirty?  Is that stinkbug dead?  Can we stay in the tub for one bazillion minutes?  Why do you need privacy in the bathroom?  Where’s my piggy bank?  Where’s my big kindergarten workbook?  Where’s the pen that goes with it?  What’s cerulean?  Why can’t it just be blue?  Why do strawberries have these little seeds on them?  Why are we only reading two bedtime stories?  Mommy?”

And in an effort not to squelch my beautiful, intelligent, curious, inquisitive boys’ spirits, I answer every question.

OK, I’m getting off my shoebox now.

Reading Rainbow

I am currently reading:

¨      The Bible

¨      Every Child Needs a Praying Mom (Fern Nichols)

¨      A Year in High Heels (Camilla Morton)

¨      Desiring God (John Piper)

¨      Above Rubies (Issue:  Eighty-One)

¨      Vogue (April issue)

¨      A chapter of a friend’s upcoming book, still in progress

¨      Bedtime stories to Silas

Waiting patiently to be read:

¨      Have a New Kid by Friday (Dr. Kevin Leman)

¨      Vogue (May issue)

Imminent Book Club Pick:

¨      City of Tranquil Light (Bo Caldwell)

Recently read:

¨      Now, Can You Trust Me? (Nairy Ohanian)

¨      Strengths Finder 2.0 (Tom Rath)

¨      Queen of the Castle (Lynn Bowen Walker)

OK, I’m getting off my shoebox now.

Awakening

Two nights ago I had a dream.

I was walking on a street with Silas, holding his hand.  We were happy.  There was a feeling of peace, security, comfort.  Up ahead we saw a bird or some flying creature come down from heaven and perch high on a tree.  We knew it was an angel in bird form.  We also knew that Silas would be one soon.  He was going to take that form.  That’s what we were walking toward.

As we approached it, we stopped.  Silas scrunched up his face.  “My head hurts,” he said.  I knew the transformation was beginning.  I was filled with peace.  I looked at him and said, “You’re going to see Jesus!  Look for Jesus!”

And then I woke up.  My heart was racing.  As I was waking up, I realized what the “transformation” meant.  What Silas going to heaven and seeing Jesus meant.  I couldn’t go back to sleep.

I stewed on this all day yesterday.  I couldn’t get the image of his scrunched up face out of my head.  I had a hard day.

This morning after dropping Silas off at school, James and I ran a couple of errands and then headed home.  We came home a different way than we usually do, up a long country road that we don’t normally use.  I knew there would be a stop sign at the point where we needed to turn, and so I drove along, looking for the stop sign.

WHOOSH.  What?!?  As we crossed an intersection, a car almost hit us!  My heart was racing as I immediately honked my horn.  Typical East Coast reflex.  Why didn’t he stop?  Wait, was I supposed to stop?  There was no stop sign!

I made a U-turn and drove back toward the intersection.  I looked across the street to where I had just come from, and sure enough the stop sign was there – run down into the ground.  No wonder I hadn’t seen it.  We had come really close to getting hit.  Too close for my comfort.  James was in the car with me.

Thank you, Jesus!

And then it hit me.  The realization.  The awakening from my dream two nights before.

Jesus was sending me a very clear message, in a way that my dense brain could understand:  “I AM IN CHARGE OF YOUR LIVES.”

Thank you, Jesus!

My life, my husband’s life, my boys’ lives – they are all in His hands.  My racing heart, his scrunched up face, the tears flowing as I type this right now – none of them matter, because our lives are in His hands.  We can rest in the peace of knowing He is in control of every minute of our lives, and we will live on this earth for exactly however long He has planned for us.  We will move on to our eternal home whenever He says so.  And then we will see Him and run into His arms.

OK, I’m getting off my shoebox now.