As I walked through the aisles of Target one recent afternoon I passed a young couple holding hands and looking intently at what was before them on the shelf. The words “extra pleasure” and “ribbed” caught my eye right around the time I heard the young man say, “They’re expensive.”  He then gently but firmly lead his girlfriend away.

Turns out the same couple was in front of me in the check out line. They had a couple of sodas, and that was it. I put up my plastic divider and then unloaded from my shopping cart six pairs of Summer weight PJs for the boys, four new swim trunks, a swim shirt for my littlest guy, water bottles, toilet paper, a few cleaning supplies, tooth paste and floss, and a couple of water toys for our upcoming vacation. The couple walked out still holding hands long before my total came up. 296 dollars and 49 cents. I wanted to chase that boy down and show him my receipt… “and you think birth control is expensive?”

There are so many directions I could take today's post after that story. I could write a commentary on today’s sexually active youth, bemoan the cost of raising children, the challenge of being a good steward of our finances… but since that simple shopping scene I’ve thought of just one word. Prayer.

We need to keep praying for our boys. They are growing up into men right before our eyes. At 4, 6, and 8 mine already know they’ve got some awesome equipment down there!   At least one of them comes to my room with growing pains nearly each night. Their baby faces are hardening with sharper features, and they talk about whom their going to marry, where they’ll live and what they’ll do. (Today the stories all revolve around them opening a blacksmith store together to make ninja weapons.)  But more than far-fetched ninja dreams, they’re showing their manliness in tangible ways too.  All three of them have got some serious leg hair!

At 4 years old, Asher likely has more testosterone pumping through his little body than the other two put together! When he discovered his leg hair he exclaimed “I have whiskers on my legs and I like it. It’s awesome! I’m going to be a big man. The biggest man, ever!” Brody, however, cried, “I don’t want to be a man! I want to stay your baby forever!” Well as sweet as that may be to this Mama’s heart, it just isn’t going to happen. They are all going to grow up! And they’re going to have girlfriends and feel all sorts of crazy feelings run through their bodies when they lay their eyes on a “hot” girl for the first time.  It will happen. And so I continue to pray.

“How can a young man keep his way pure? By living according to your word” (Psalm 119:9)

I remember those late night nursing sessions, stroking my first-born’s hair and softly muttering scripture and prayers over him as he was nourished in more ways than one. Often my prayers would be for his purity, I’d pray for his future wife and that their courtship would be pure and fun.

"Let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not loose heart.”

So many of my posts include the above verse.

Let us not cease from praying for our children and their purity. Let us live pure lives before them, by God’s grace.  Let us give testimony to our children that God’s word is true, as we tuck his Word into their lives and challenge them to live according to it.  And let us speak the truth in love about what the world will tell them, and how the world will seduce them.  

While I didn't run out after that young couple, with my receipt flapping in the wind like a banner above my head, you can bet I'll run after these little men.  Figuratively.  Prayerfully.  

Let us not grow weary.  Let us pray...

"The fact is, a work of literature should give us ourselves idealized and in a dream, all we wished to be but could not be, all we hoped for but missed. True literature rounds out our lives, gives us consolations for our failures, rebuke for our vices, suggestions for our ambition, hope, and love, and appreciation. To do that it should have truth, nobility, and beauty in a high degree, and our first test of a work of literature should be to ask the three questions, Is it beautiful? Is it true? Is it noble?"  (Sherwin Cody, The Art of Writing and Speaking the English Language, 1906)

My boys get all amped up at bedtime.  While I fancy myself a wordsmith, there are NO WORDS TO DESCRIBE THE CHAOS THAT ENSUES EACH AND EVERY NIGHT!  No matter how I tweak their bedtime routine, what time we move upstairs, what combination of children I put together in a room, what books we read or songs we sing, it always spirals into tears and fears and pleas for MORE!  And I am wiped out.  

If you've read more than a handful of my posts then you know my mothering-mantra:  

"Let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart!"  (Galatians 6:9)

And so I persevere in love and with love; loving words, loving boundaries, loving prayers, loving encouragement, loving consequences... love love love.

But tonight they didn't just fight me, they fought one another as well.  I split them up and sent them to different rooms.  (ding ding ding - to your corners!)  I loved on each of them separately, speaking truth and challenges, forgiveness and grace into their young hearts.  To Caleb I exhorted him to be a peacemaker instead of a trouble maker.  He responded, "I was mad that Brody called me a jerk... but he was right... I was being a jerk.  Why do I always do what I don't want to do?"

I've stopped counting the times my eldest has unknowingly quoted Scripture to me.  

"I do not understand what I do.

For what I want to do I do not do,

but what I hate I do."  (Romans 7:15)

We sat together in silence for a few moments as I tickled his back with my fingers.  He asked why my fingers were so soft and I told him I've been using lotion.  "I like it when they are dry" he said, "they tickle better that way."

I rubbed a few more moments and then asked him to tell me the verse he memorized this week. These words poured over his lips:

"You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly... But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." (Romans 5:6&

"Caleb," I gently whispered, "you were a jerk tonight.  What's more, you're powerless to do anything about it.  But God demonstrated his own love for you in this: even though he knew you'd treat your brothers this way tonight, Christ died for you."

"And since you have believed in Christ and received His forgiveness, you can trust that He is here now, strengthening you to do a better job next time your brother is being unkind to you.  God loved you even though you are a sinner...  He will help you learn to love Brody when Brody is sinning against you.  What do you think about that?  Can you demonstrate your own love toward Brody by loving him when he's being unkind to you?"

"I want to... I want to be a peace maker" was his simple reply.

I have a category of blog posts on the sidebar called "The hard days."  This post will be listed there. For I am amazed, time and again amazed, what deep, rich, soil toiling and seed planting lessons are taught on these difficult days with my boys.  

Say it with me, breath it in and pour it out in your own prayers, "Let us not grow weary while doing good, for in due season we shall reap if we do not lose heart."  

‎"When my kids become wild and unruly, I use a nice, safe playpen. When they're finished, I climb out." - Erma Bombeck

We are in the process of searching for a new home... more specifically a property where the boys can go when they need to be "wild and unruly."  We've long dreamt of a place where our boys can be boys; to romp, explore, imagine, grow, claim and tame.  A wild piece of their own wilderness to exercise dominion over.  Here in Southern California such pieces of property are a little further inland and in the mountains.    

Yesterday we visited a beautiful home on 4 such acres, covered in boulders and native plants, sporting views all the way to Catalina Island on a clear day.  

Here is a picture of our free spirited middle child whom I imagine reading upon one of these massive fort-rocks in the years to come.  This specific rock is surrounded by the gorgeous purple cones that bloom from Spring to Fall and help deliver that majestic appearance of "purple mountain majesty." 

To get to this rock he walked by three raised planters on a level area above the home. Every bit of everything here felt perfect to me - even the planters.  You see, I've been promising the boys each a planting box of their own to cultivate at our next home, just as Jo's boys were able to do in our last novel, "Little Men" by Louisa May Alcott. Caleb wants to grow strawberries and sweet peas, Brody wants a great big grapevine, and Asher wants to grow sugar snap peas and pumpkins.

I stood between two of these perfectly ordained planters and snapped this picture of Brody.  Afterwards he jumped down and ran off to explore more with his brothers and I walked slowly back toward the house.  After taking another tour of the inside I came back to the leveled garden to dream again and take in the views.  As I walked between the same two garden boxes I was met by the sudden rattle of a great big rattlesnake,  three feet in front of me, at the base of this rock where Brody had been.

Of course I knew not to run and not to scream, I knew it in my head.  But run and scream I did - right past our real-estate agent Paige.  She ran in my wake until we were far far away.  

Now look at that rock!  I'm not so naive to think there weren't rattlesnakes around these bolder laden hills, I just thought we'd see 1 or 2 in the next 10 years, not the very first day we came to explore a possible home.  Needless to say, I'm rattled. (pun intended)  LIterally shaken. I barely slept last night and when I did sleep my dreams were filled with snakes, tarantulas, bobcats, and other mountain dangers.  I awoke from my fitful sleep at 5 this morning with Psalm 91 going through my mind.

Whoever dwells in the shelter of the Most High

will rest in the shadow of the Almighty.

I will say of the LORD, “He is my refuge and my fortress,

my God, in whom I trust.”

Surely he will save you

from the fowler’s snare

and from the deadly pestilence.

He will cover you with his feathers,

and under his wings you will find refuge;

his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.

You will not fear the terror of night,

nor the arrow that flies by day,

nor the pestilence that stalks in the darkness,

nor the plague that destroys at midday...

If you say, “The LORD is my refuge,”

and you make the Most High your dwelling,

no harm will overtake you,

no disaster will come near your tent.

For he will command his angels concerning you

to guard you in all your ways;

they will lift you up in their hands,

so that you will not strike your foot against a stone.

You will tread on the lion and the cobra;

you will trample the great lion and the serpent.

“Because he loves me,” says the LORD, “I will rescue him;

I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name.

He will call on me, and I will answer him;

I will be with him in trouble,

I will deliver him and honor him.

With long life I will satisfy him

and show him my salvation.”

Since reading and re-reading Psalm 91 over my steaming cup of lavender tea this morning, I'm still at a quandary.  Where do trust and discernment intermingle?  Where do they marry, becoming smart yet faith-filled choices in this dangerous world?  My tea cup this morning displayed the quote, "Let the Peace of God rule in your heart."  But that begs the question: where is peace found in a dangerous world?

You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast,

because he trusts in You.  (Isaiah 26:3)

If our hearts are stayed on Him, trusting His loving care and protection, no matter where we move or what we do, He will accompany us.  Even when disease, storm, pestilence, or predators surround us.  That said, He also desires us to seek wisdom; to make choices that usher in some measure of safety for our loved ones.  It's a walk of faith as we learn to trust and discern.  

A faith walk among rattlers!

We moved last week.  Out of our spacious home and into a little condo down the hill.  We're enjoying our simplified existence with fewer things to put away, more cuddle time and laughter on the couch, and jaunts to the community pool for a family plunge.   

We didn't have much to bring, actually.  We sold a lot of our furniture to the newlyweds moving into our family house.  Even our big bed and bedroom set, which leaves Matt and me sleeping restlessly in the full bed that used to grace our guest room.  Let me take this opportunity to apologize to the couples who have endured nights on this little mattress.  Yicks.  

We also left both our kitchen and dinning room tables and are now breaking bread around Matt's desk.  The computer is set up on a bedside table, and our TV is dressing up a file cabinet.  Fancy digs!  

Of the tangible things we left behind, I will miss the old kitchen table and the even older chairs my mom and I painted for my first apartment most of all.  So glad I get to carry my memories with me easily.  No matter how many I keep, they never strain my back or take up too much attic space. 

But, like I said, we are all very happy.  Life is sweet and simple, and the boys are loving it.  We are too, minus the sleepless nights.  

Many other things were left behind at our old home or given to good will.  The most profound, however, were things invisible and intangible.  Unkind words, selfish hands, "scawy foughts" (that's scary thoughts at bedtime), disrespectful and dishonoring behavior toward their father and me, laughing and hitting during dinner prayers, and not coming when they are called.  

Life had gotten pretty difficult in our family. I'm not blaming them.  Matt and I obviously let them get away with poor behavior far too much. So when we moved here to our little pad, we told them their bad habits had been left at the old house.  Then Matt and I commited to one another that our inconsistency had also been left behind.  

And somehow... MIRACULOUSLY... and with the help of LEGO mini-figures and a reward chart... it has worked!  Seriously worked!  Brody's walking into his classroom without grabbing me or showcasing dramatic tearful goodbyes; he's gone to bed without "Scawy foughts" almost every night since moving into our condo; Asher gets up, gets dressed, comes to the breakfast table and even asks to serve his Brother's first; and Matt and I have also left some of our less attractive behaviors behind.

How in the world, you ask, did we manage to avoid bringing them along?  We simply told the boys that we had not packed them.  "But did you bring all of my toys?"  Brody was quick to ask.  "Yes, of course!"  We assured him.   

That darling boy has been as amazed at his good behavior as we are.  I've found him litterally dazed and confused,  mumbling, "I'm being such a good boy... I'm just being such a good boy" over and over to himself. 

Check out this (very) short video clip of Caleb at the dinner table tonight, showing me how he used to react to a new dish at mealtime.  All the boys laughed and so did I.  People always say, "one day you'll look back and laugh at the most awful stuff.  This was one of those days, I'm happy to say.  

Yesterday I posted about reading Ingri and Edgar Parin d'Aulaire's children's book GEORGE WASHINGTON with my eight year old son, Caleb.  This morning he read their beautifully illustrated ABRAHAM LINCOLN aloud to me.  In the final pages Caleb put the book down multiple times to ask me about Slavery, Civil War, and why God didn't tell George Washington Slavery was wrong.  We went deep and took our time together, talking about God's Word and the sad things people have done throughout history.

When we returned to our reading these words struck us both:

"The Next day Lincoln walked into the town... An old Negro recognized the long, thin man man with the tall stove-pipe hat.  'Here is our savior,' he cried, and threw himself at Lincoln's feet.  And suddenly Lincoln was surrounded by Negroes, weeping and rejoicing as they cried; 'Glory, glory hallelujah.' "

He choked up and so did I.  We looked at one another and smiled wobbly smiles.  "Why are we so sad?"  he asked.  "Because, my son, slavery is so sad.  These people who were celebrating used to be slaves.  They were owned, bought and sold, they were likely beaten and treated like animals and not men.  I'm crying because I feel their unspeakable joy as I read these words. 'Glory, glory hallelujah', they cried; God had given them freedom through the conviction and actions of Abraham Lincoln.

Caleb is now downstairs playing shoots a ladders with his littlest brother as his middle brother plays his DS, but I'm still caught up in the preciousness of our time together this early morning.  And I wonder as I ponder, what good works has God planned for my sons.  What redemptive work of His will they will get to be a part of?

For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.  (Ephesians 2:10)

I'm also thinking about this lofty (and yet so simple) idea of reading and talking together.  It's not the ABCs and 123s they learn in their lesson books, it something far greater, built upon those learning blocks.  We don't just want to raise children who make good grades, we long to raise them to be thinkers, articulate and good, moral and virtuous; servants, ambassadors, and stewards of the knowledge they've gained at school and by our side.  But the key to this, I believe, are those three words... "by our side."

Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up.  (Deuteronomy 11:19)

Fathers, do not exasperate your children; instead, bring them up in the training and instruction of the Lord. (Ephesians 6:4)

Only be careful, and watch yourselves closely so that you do not forget the things your eyes have seen or let them slip from your heart as long as you live. Teach them to your children and to their children after them.  Remember the day you stood before the LORD your God at Horeb, when he said to me, "Assemble the people before me to hear my words so that they may learn to revere me as long as they live in the land and may teach them to their children." (Deuteronomy 4:9-10)

We will not hide them from their children; we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD, his power, and the wonders he has done.  (Psalm 78:4)

YES

Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.  (Proverbs 22:6)

I recently heard someone say, "Don't think outside of the box... live like there is no box!"  Or something in that price range.  When you see a quote like that on Facebook you immediately want to hit the "like" button, but after you do what really changes about the way you live your life?  What changes about the way I live mine?

This week my family made the decision to live like there was no box to contain us.  We threw caution to the wind, loaded up the car, locked up the house, and headed off for some deeply needed family together time.  Piano lessons and swim practices were canceled, despite their stringent "make-up policies" that always seem to have more clauses than a free ticket on United.   But the most difficult box for me to deny was the box we call School.  Schools are even shaped like boxes, with bunches of little boxes stacked inside, filled with children learning to behave within the boxes of life.  Don't get me wrong, I'm not an anarchist!  The rules school-children must learn to obey are nearly all, if not all, great boxes to help them prepare for life outside of that box.  But what about when a great box gets in the way of something even greater?

Like this...

And this...

Or even this...

We spent four glorious days hiking, watching old movies, reading exciting novels, playing video games, sight seeing, eating and sleeping.  One of the highlights for me was, and always is, walking down the backside of our property up in Northern California.  My husband always points out the poison oak, identifies what type of bones the boys find scattered around our little slice of wilderness, and comes to their rescue when they climb a ridge just a bit too high.

On this particular climb my eight year old pointed out some unusual patterns in the dirt and asked his Dad what they were from.  Matt pointed up the hill and described the erosion that was taking place on the land due to the rain.  Caleb's eyes lit up, because he had just learned this past month in his Science class all about soil, planting, irrigation, and erosion.  Caleb then suggested to his Dad that they plant some more plants, "because leaf litter and plant roots help to stop erosion."

You see the facts of knowledge that were learned in Caleb's 2nd grade classroom came to life outside of the box.  And I got to thinking about how true this is in many other area of our lives as well.  We learn in Sunday school that Jesus loves us... for the Bible tell us so. But on the slippery slopes of life where erosion can cause us to stumble, we sense our need for a Savior and truly learn of His Grace.  In the box of the wedding chapel we say our vows, but in the messy world of life together we learn to love and honor, serve and submit.  So many things are taught our children in the safe confines of our boxy little homes, but I dare say that the lessons come to life as we "walk along the way" together.

Truth be told, while I might be a dreamer, I'm also a rule follower, so breaking the walls down to explore the world and learn with them on these little adventures isn't always easy for me... but I believe it's crucial.

I heard it said that the knowledge we learn from text books is like the skeletal system of a man; historical fiction is the blood and guts, the organs and the skin; but it's real life exploration and experiences that bring it to life.

That's what we did these past few days as a family in Northern California.  We broke down some boxes and roamed free a bit, bringing knowledge to life.

When I speak to women's groups I am usually asked by the lady orchestrating the event, "Would you like us to set up a book table for you?"  My answer to the question has always been "no". And the reason is simple:  I haven't published any books.  

I've been a little busy here on the home-front wiping bottoms, doing dishes, training children, reading books, making dinner, doing laundry, rubbing backs... and then doing it all over again day after day.  Sure I have oodles of ideas for books I'd love to read, that maybe one day I'll get to write, but right now I'm too busy living it!

Dream dreams and write them aye, but live them first.

Samuel Elliot Morrison 1887-1976

I first read this quote as a Freshman at Emerson College in Boston, Massachusetts.  Along the Commonwealth Avenue Mall is a series of statues of famous men. Among them stands the gleaming white likeness of Navy man, Samuel Elliot Morrison.  And this quote is on the plaque that bares his name.  

I've loved this challenging sentiment ever since, for you see, I am a dreamer.  I often long for quiet places to slip away and write about both reality and fancies, life, death, forgiveness and grace, and love.  But today I commit to hold tight to where I am, bound and determined to live my life first and foremost. Completely.

There are so many more words I could write on the subject aye, but I have some living to do and must sign off... I'm going to play laser tag with my Multitude now.

Next to the wonder of seeing my Savior will be, I think, the wonder that I made so little use of the power of prayer. ~ D.L. Moody

And Caleb, for Caleb I pray for deep heart-knowledge. "Lord," I pray over my boy as I tuck him into bed, "You know this young man wants to follow after You. Please penetrate his heart with your Word and your Spirit so that Caleb will have more than a head knowledge, but a living, breathing faith that impacts the lives of others for your Glory."

Then I sing Caleb his blessing, "The Lord, Bless you and keep you; The Lord make His face shine upon you; and give you peace, and give you peace, and give you peace forever."