Peace

In the battles in life, there is tremendous peace that follows. Probably more for a Christian, knowing that God is in control. Life isn't perfect, it will never be. It's a temporary assignment, a test. But often instructions and help go a long way in the path of victory. Here is something I found for battlefields and homes:

Mission first.

Never accept defeat.

Never quit.

Never leave a fallen comrade.

Shalom!

A little encouragement!

I read this today in the afternoon, in the midst of a whirlwind of emotions, it set my day in perspective!

Whoever then humbles himself as this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.
Matthew 18:4

Thomas Epting's young body began showing its first signs of leukemia when he was only two years old. By age four, there was no doubt. And after the disease had ebbed and resurfaced once again at age seven, his family understood that Thomas's childhood was not going to be normal ... at least not in the way our world defines "normal."

They were right. But not just because of the complications and chemo treatments.

How normal is it for a young boy to never complain about shot needles and hospital stays--not even once? How normal is it to hear a child say, after being told of his need for yet another procedure, "I just want God to be glorified in this, and I don't want to embarrass Him"?

Thomas was a remarkable boy, indeed.

There was a period of years when Thomas's physical suffering was graciously relieved by the hand of God. His leukemia was gone. Undetectable. He used the time to read every book written by A. W. Tozer. He wrote profound Christian poetry. He took the SAT at 13 and outscored his parents' high-school marks.

But at 15, he received bad news. Not one but five malignant, inoperable brain tumors had been seen on an X-ray. The setback sent his mom and dad into a parent's tailspin.

But his mom, Amy, remembers a day, barely a month before his death, when she was talking with Thomas about how she should pray for him. He flashed those twinkling eyes at her and said, "Mom, you think too much! God sent His Son to die for me! If He never did anything else for me, sending Jesus is enough for me to praise Him as long as I live. Just focus on that, Mom, and quit worrying about the tumors!"

Give me Thomas Epting's brand of normal. I could use some of it today. Couldn't you?

Pictures from the past

Baby's first Christmas :)

Enjoying crawling all around the house

Here is how he got around the first few weeks of walking!

He took his first few steps on his first birthday. 

A very special gift for mama & daddy.

The lovely cake Abuela Vangie made for him.

This was when Aiden was about a year and 3 months.

He hasn't lost that expression of wonder...

All mixed-up

It isn't always things that little children say that makes me laugh, sometimes its the things that I blurt without paying much attention. Lately I've been warning A to stop breaking his toe-nails or take his hand out of his mouth or not to dig his nose (yes! I can't believe it either!)
... And very often it sounds like this...
Aiden! stop picking your toes!
or
Aiden! I've already told you hundreds of times to not put your mouth in your fingers.
and this morning, I heard myself scolding him such
I've already warned you that if you touch your shoes and put your mouth inside your hands, you will have to come and wash your shoes each time!
And then I paused...
Maybe I just need a break!

egg-shells

A few years ago (read about 12) I got an easy multiple choice test in biology. The question read, which of the following is not biodegradable: Cotton, Glass, Egg shells. Honestly, I would have liked to say that I chose option B. But then I got thinking of how glass is made from silica, and that should someday become bio-fuel... on the other hand I never saw a decomposed egg-shell. So I chose C.

Fast forward all those few years... Today I put in some garlic bulbs into a pot, hoping that something will someday sprout (hopefully if we're there to take care of it) and as I hunched over to mix fertilisers into the soil, I noticed white specks. Turned out to be the home-made fertilisers I had used years ago... among them egg-shells.

Now I'm beginning to think that perhaps I wasn't all that wrong in that biology test...

My little agro-helper.

Tales and tails

A few days ago, we were reading from our very favourite pre-K social science book, What Do People Do All Day and I introduced Aiden to some of the 'working' characters of the book. (Here is a terrible picture of the top of the page, that doesn't do justice to Richard Scarry, or Kodak, or the lovely teacher talking about the book!!) 

Anyway,  Aiden and I started talking about farmer Alfalfa, Blacksmith Fox, Stitches the tailor, Grocer Cat, Mommy and Huckle (not in the picture). I asked him,
"What do you think Farmer Alfalfa does?"
"Why, he drives a tractor!"  
"And what does Blacksmith Fox do?"
"He bangs!"
"What does Stitches the tailor do?"
"He tails!"
I thought that was pretty innovative. I burst out laughing and he cut me out, "Mama, don't laugh!" 
Needless to state, he guessed that Stitches, well, stitches.

Late night telephonic conversations!

Last night as we lay to sleep, Aiden (hoping that his daddy would come back soon) started chatting excitedly  with me about the black car he saw the other day...
~Mama, you remember the black car we saw on the road?
~Hmm.. I mumbled faintly opening an eye.
~The front tyres were up in the air, because a tow truck was towing it away..
~Hmmm... I mumbled again.
Then a wonderful idea struck me! (yes! I loooove those moments!) I opened both eyes, leaned on my elbow and said to him
~Why don't you tell Jesus all about the black car and the tow truck? He'd love to hear from you.
~O.k. He replied, interested in the idea.
He pulled his little legs up the wall and started to tell Jesus all about the car, and how it couldn't move because the tow truck was pulling it away... after few minutes that ended in a softer tone, he said
o.k. Jesus, talk to you later. Bye!! ~

To forgive... or not?

As parents we taught our son to ask us forgiveness when he wrongs us, whether he realizes it or not. We felt that simply saying the word 'Sorry!' was too shallow, too fast and too easy to say. Rather we give him a moment to think about what he did, reflect on how it was wrong and ask for forgiveness. Following that we have a time of 'restitution' i.e. cuddles, hugs and laughs. It has worked very well at home.

I came across this lovely article written by one of my very favorite authors Dennis Rainey on forgiveness.
Here is a little extract:

Forgiveness doesn’t mean:

• Excusing what someone did to you
• Forgetting what happened
• Denying, or stuffing, your feelings
• Reconciling instantly every time

For the complete article, (including what forgiveness is) click here.

God bless and reward you as you pursue forgiveness!

Of Guacamole & classical music

Today as I was working in the kitchen, Aiden asked me what I was doing. I told him I was making Gucamole. He then announced that he was '10 years old' and he should help me. Very well, I replied and gave him some things to do. So together we made Guacamole, a famous Mexican dish, out of (very expensive) avocados of the south.

Later I let him taste his 'hardly work' while he was listening to some wonderful vocals by the Turetsky Choir.

Massage me!

Just the other day, I asked my wonderful husband to rub some massage oil on my cramp-ed legs. He poured some of the aromatic liquid and rubbed it on my legs. That was as far as the little bottle of oil got my attention that morning. I left it on the side of the bed and went on with my day. Later in the afternoon, as I busied myself doing dishes, I couldn't hear Aiden at all. In a moment of pure panic, I rushed with soapy hands and scuffling slippers to our bed-room. There he sat like the king of pasha a midst the aloes and lavenders, pouring nothing less than streams of massage oil on his own little legs (and needless to mention on the bedspread, mattress, pillow, clothes etc.. whatever was in the vicinity)  and said 'Look mama! Oil!'
O.k. Honestly, I burst out laughing! It was all too cute for the moment! (not for the cleaning up that followed) I did give him a little lecture later and told him as strictly as I could get myself to that oil was to be poured carefully and best with adult supervision.
He looked at my face, lips carefully rounded, "Mama, are you upset? Can you please give me a hug?".. and then he said the cutest thing ever... "I will answer all your questions, just give me a hug!"

I didn't know how to react... I looked at my little boy, so silent and busy, the 'child-scissors' in one hand, nothing in the other hand and the frayed edges of my bed spread that had been hung out to dry. The toothy grin conveyed that he enjoyed cutting it up.
I learnt that child scissors are sharp! I think I laughed at the end .. primarily because his fingers were still intact! :) 

We decided to do music instead for the rest of the day. And to get to enjoy high notes and low notes, we did a simple exercise. Here's a picture of us enjoying the high notes! 

Aqui estamos disfrutando nuestra leccion de musica despues de un dia muuuuy interesante. No encontrando papel para cortar, automaticamente decidio que un cubrecama que estaba secando cerca de el podia servir! Alli lo encontre dandome una sonrisota al lado del cubrecama con las orillas cortadas! Bueno, asi que decidimos cambiar la actividad del dia!