Category Archives: Glory

Glory

May 26, 2010

Perhaps it is just me, but I am never more impressed with God than when He convinces me to go in a direction I was previously diametrically opposed to traversing just a few prayers ago, and not only convinces me to obey, but gets me excited about it as well.

Nonetheless He seems to manage these little coups.

The Hunky Hubby and I are both committed to analyzing our boys education every year and deciding which form of education is best for their immediate needs. Last year we decided to do online/home school with WAVA. And when I tried to draw him into an endless debate over which online school, The Hunky Hubby requested that I do whatever I liked. Anything would be marvelous…ie, as long as it did not involve me hanging over his shoulder hemming and hawing and mumbling over various options while he was attempting to write e-mails to our board and 5 campers who were dead set on becoming counselors even though they were all only 9.

And so we did WAVA and about six months ago I began to carefully analyze the situation for the next year. I thought long and hard and finally decided that what Sweet Boy #1 needed was another year of online school, this time with a different school, and some really fun science and history…. I was all decided and ready to go.

And then The Hunky Hubby said: “Maybe he needs more socialization. Maybe he has his training wheels on, so to speak, from only playing with his younger brothers and would benefit from play with kids his own age.” I smiled and humored him. His thoughts were not with God and would soon pass. Besides, The Hunky Hubby, if left to his own devices, will often forget.

But he didn’t. I kept making my online school plans and he wanted me to do a school visit! I prayed a few clenched teeth prayers: “God, did you just hear him? Well, what are you going to do about it? You know I can’t give up my first baby to some frothing public educator who smacks kids over the knuckles with rulers for spelling things wrong and says it’s not manly to cry.” Perhaps I was listening to my 86-year-old grandma’s tales of her youth too much, but still.

And then I did a terrible thing. You know, open ended prayer. “Lord, please show us what Sweet Boy#1′s most pressing need is. I think I can educate him in a superior manor. But if pure knowledge is of less importance right now to socialization, let me know.”

Within three days we went on an awesome WAVA field trip to ride a real train up to Snoqualmie Falls. Sweet Boy #1 is maniacally passionate about trains. At home he will leap about the room expounding upon their glamorous details. On the field trip he hid behind me, wouldn’t talk to his WAVA teacher whom to jabbers to incessantly on the phone every month, and clutched my hand instead of interacting with other kids.

It hit me straight in the gut, like a cannon ball from a ship full of ghostly pirates. This boy needed to get out.

So I called a first grade teacher that The Hunky Hubby went to school with. We did a school visit. Yes we could choose his teacher, yes we could go on vacation in the fall, yes we could volunteer in his class, yes he would be challenged in math even though he is a year ahead, yes they have special groups for advanced readers, no kids are not allowed to pee on random bushes just outside the playground.

That last one I answered myself, with no help from the principal, as the boys stared at me incredulously. Not allowed to pee on bushes, what kind of uncouth place was this?

And so we prayed for the rest of the week and I just turned in most of his registration papers. And you know what? I’m excited. He will get to do art projects that are beyond my feeble abilities, which doesn’t take much. He will make friends. He is so excited about riding the bus. He will have fun instead of sit and sulk while the timer ticks away and I say for the 104th time: Earn your star, get back to work.

Home school has been very very good. He has learned oh so much. But my boy needs to see people now and God gently gently picked me up and turned me around and reminded me that each little person has a different path to live, just like each big person.

And in those terrible glorious moments when He steps down into our lives and pulls the lever on our track, changing directions, that is when we know that He is there. That He is concerned about us, our babies, their education and their futures. That is when we know that HE is.

And for those mysterious moments, I am forever grateful.

P.S.

Of course shortly afterward I did have this terrible nightmare in which I was rushing about the school building on the first day trying to find his class and enormous skyscrapers and a giant crane came to life and began to slowly march toward the elementary school leaving a path of destruction behind them as experimental government planes zipped about their mighty steel heads attempting to stall the inevitable crane-enhanced apocalypse that was about to occur. If you know what it symbolizes, by all means, please leave a comment.

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Glory

November 18, 2009

Our family has grown accustomed to God granting miracles for my grandparents. My grandpa has had a heart attack, 5 bi-pas surgery, Encephalitis, mental recovery from the Encephalitis, a dangerous brush mower accident, a septic blood infection that had an over 50% chance of killing a 20 year old (he is 91), a second septic blood infection and pneumonia. The list goes on and my grandmother has had cancer three times, lives with a heart condition, currently has pneumonia… And yet whenever they approach death’s door, we pray and the Lord continues to grant us more time with them though my grandma is in her 80s and my grandpa in his 90s. And why not? They have served the Lord sacrificially these many years. We are used to such miracles.

But this week something occurred which gave me hope that perhaps God has miracles for the rest of us non-halo-clad individuals . My uncle was found unconscious in his home. He’d had a heart attack. In critical care they set him up on a machine to wait 48 hours and see if his heart just might start beating again. It was twitching, half of it. The doctors prepared the family to lose him. Even if his heart started up he would probably be a vegetable. And he was neither grandpa nor grandma. My aunt and uncle don’t fit the pretty Christian mold. He smokes! On purpose. She doesn’t teach Bible stories at church or wear dresses. But they are some of the most precious people to me.

One time when the hunky hubby and I were out on a date, we forgot all of our money. We arrived at the local drive-in-movie without the necessary $10 for admission. And so we went begging at my aunt and uncles house. They didn’t have $10 either. But that did not stop them. They dug through every random drawer, dresser, and couch cushion in their home until they scrounged up enough change for our admission. And coins in hand we went to the late night movie. My aunt has given everything for her 5 kids and their marriage is one of the few that I admire deeply. Life has not been easy for them, ever. But you can tell by looking at them together that their love is deep and honest. And my uncle lay dying and they didn’t fit the miracle profile and I lay at night wondering. “God, do you have miracles for those of us wearing jeans? Those of us who just keep loving and stumbling along and know you’re there, but just don’t seem to fit in with all of the other pretty pink sheep that volunteer and actually own a pair of nylons.” Perhaps my aunt owns nylons…but I don’t and I was curious for myself as much as for her.

At 2:00am my uncle, who was as good as dead, sat up. Asked what he was doing in the hospital and proceeded to assure the startled hospital staff that he was not brain dead. Well if you asked my relieved aunt she would have probably hugged him fiercely and whispered “At least not any more than normal.” So apparently the answer is yes. Yes Kristen. God’s hand is on you. Even now. Even when you don’t measure up. His love is sure in tragedy. His love is sure in joy. He is love and He is God.

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Glory

May 4, 2009

I had been praying for wisdom about sweet boy #2 and his desire to become God’s boy right after sweet boy #1 prayed the sinner’s prayer. Was the desire genuine? He is only 3 and a half after all. Is peer pressure a good reason for salvation? After a week or so the Lord answered my queries. Sweet boy #2 wouldn’t pray on his own. He wanted me to do it. I had peace that on the day the he was willing to pray after me and say the words himself, that his heart would be ready to belong to God.

A few days after this epiphany sweet boy #2 had a nightmare. As is customary he crept over to our bed and wriggled his way inside. I was just falling back to sleep when I felt a nudge against my shoulder. “Momma?” poke poke poke. “Momma, we forgot to pray. I want to be God’s boy.”

I asked if he was ready to pray himself.

Yes he was.

And so my sweet little 3 year old prayed the whole sinner’s prayer toddler style. And I know that he meant it. I remember the serious look on his face when he told me that he was not ready to pray on his own. And how he listened intently when I told him that when his heart was truly ready he would be able to do it. That moment came and he didn’t hesitate. Now he prays every night and every night when I ask him what he wants to thank God for he has answered either. “For being God’s Boy.” or “That Daddy is God’s boy.”

Glory indeed.

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Glory

April 18, 2009

Sweet boy #1 is 5 and 1/3 and I have tried to be patient, as I know I should be, and wait for him to be ready to choose the Lord. I never realized how hard that would be. I’m not pushy. Maybe I even skip opportunities to tell him about God because I want him to decide in his own heart. But I’ve showed him when our power goes out how God chases the darkness from a heart like the candle we light in the bathroom chases away the night. I’ve asked if he wants to be “God’s boy” and have Jesus clean the hurt from him that comes from the times we disobey. And my sweet little guy always gives a firm “no” or “not today”.

So I’ve prayed for patience and prayed that the Lord Himself would draw my first born into His arms.

Well on Easter Sunday they gave some copies of the Veggie Tale book “An Easter Carol” away and the hunky hubby grabbed one. I had car duty whilst he ran into Safeway and so I read the book. Sweet boy #1 paid close attention biting his lip during exiting parts and he looked so intense for awhile I was worried that he might cry.

Later he accidentally saw a sad show with his great grandma and we got to talking about death. A dog had to be euthanized and he wanted to know what happened to it. I told him that bodies grow old and break down or become so injured that they can’t go on, and then the soul leaves. I explained that God allows us to choose if we want our soul to go to God or not. That if we let Jesus chase the darkness from our hearts we can get new hearts and become “God’s Boy”. He informed me that when he was 5 and 1/3 he decided to be God’s boy. I asked if he wanted to let God know about that decision and so later that night with the hunky hubby he prayed the sinners prayer 5 yr. old style. !!!!!!!!!

He truly understands. It is so amazing to watch God at work in such a little life. But he will pray now and he never would before. He is excited to pray and tells me “Mama you don’t say anything. Just wait and see and I’ll pray.” And together we apologize not only to his brother’s when he attacks them, but to God as well. I am so looking forward to seeing how God grows his sweet little heart.

But now I need wisdom, for sweet boy #2 (3.5 years) wants to be God’s boy too, but whenever I explain he gets distracted and wanders off. Do I jump in and pray with him since he has expressed interest multiple times. Or do I take his short attention span as an indication that I need to give him more time to understand his decision? So confused. If you have any wisdom, please share.

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Glory

March 8, 2009

God doesn’t always say yes. And sometimes the Heavens are terribly silent. Knowing this, the experienced Christian (cough cough…me) begins to be quite practical about prayer. Even going so far as to not ask. Especially for insignificant things.

I went on a walk the other day. Now I am tough on watches and mine is currently an old Wal-Mart ladies watch that is missing part of both sides of the band. I still have the middle part and about 1/2 an inch of metal danglys left over from the band on either side. But it is my watch and I like it. I keep it in the pocket of my snow jacket. On my walk it disappeared. Somewhere on a one mile stretch of road that was covered in 3 inches of fresh powder. Now I have lost childrens shoes in the snow, knowing exactly where they entered the powder, and been unable to locate them even after 15 minutes of digging. This was a hopeless cause. I’d decided not to even pray about it. Why on earth would God care about my beat up little watch when it would clearly take divine effort to locate it.

Then I looked at myself. And I didn’t like my attitude toward Him. Presuming so many things about His character. So I prayed. I confessed that it was silly and presumptuous but told Him that I really liked that watch and if He was not insulted, would really like it back. I looked for the watch on my return walk, hoping for the miracle. All I saw was snowy road. Oh well, such is life.

The next day I looked on my desk. There was my watch. I queried the hunky hubby. He said that our Assistant Manager had found it in the snow, about a 2 minute walk from our house. Did I mention that he found it in the snow! Amazing. It makes me look at Him differently, knowing how vigilant He is to the little things, the things that don’t matter, that wouldn’t matter to anyone else but me, and Him.

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Glory

February 15, 2009

The Hunky Hubby took off his outside boots and placed them on the living room floor. They were in the corner but well within the reach of the Uber Toddler of Doom. Well of course he toddled over, reached inside, and pulled out one of the Hunky Hubbies blue shoe inserts and then the other. He played. And when all was said and done we could only find one shoe insert. We looked, we searched, we hunted. For days and days and no shoe insert. Shooting pains began to trouble the Hunky Hubbies shins. He began to hobble and cry out with woe. It was nearly a week and we had looked everywhere. Finally he and I joined hands and prayed.

Within an hour I looked in our rocking chair. There, resting on top of the shirt that the Hunky Hubby had worn yesterday, was the shoe insert. There was no way that it could have hidden on top of that shirt for a week, especially while he was wearing it. We asked sweet boy #1 and he didn’t put it there, we asked sweet boy #2 and he didn’t either. I didn’t. The Hunky Hubby didn’t. That left the Uber Toddler of Doom. Somehow in answer to our cries, our Lord looked down, laughed and laughed and laughed…and urged sweet boy #3 to toddle over to his super secret hiding spot, unearth the shoe insert, and place it in plain sight right after we prayed. Glory indeed.

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January 17, 2009

Writing News

I got a lot of writing done this week. Sure sure, I didn’t actually get all the way through the book I’m using in my research (The Mayans). But What I mean to say is that I worked at it longer and harder than before and I got more reading and note taking accomplished this week than normal. This is due to my new aggressive backing of the whole early to bed…philosophy. Now I’m a night person so it is very difficult to reign myself in and toss myself into bed at the ridiculous hour of 9:30pm. But This week I decided that if I don’t get serious about carving out some more writing time, dum dum dum dum, I’m never going to finish this next project. And so I changed my goal chart. Instead of getting to highlight my goal chart if I get 5 hrs. of writing done and getting a star sticker (yes you heard me right) on the chart if I accomplish 7 hrs. Now it is 7 hrs. for a highlighted week and 10 hrs. for a much coveted star. And you know what? I, Kristen Joy Wilks, got a star this week! Over 10 hrs. of writing, just think how long reading “The Mayans” would take if I’d been going at my former pace. So now it’s up at 5:00am every day with two whole actual hours (barring early rising children) to write. And because of my newfound fanaticism, I composed a 2 yr. plan yesterday for this manuscript. Two years to write a novel length ms. It seems ridiculous considering that it took me over 5 to finish the last one. But I wrote out my plan, stuffed it into 2 teeny little years and I actually think that I can do it! I think the main difference is that I planned 2 whole months for outlining the story before I start to write. I noticed that the planned chapters required much much less editing than the “organic” chapters of Overturned. I hope to finish planning and writing the rough draft this year, and do feedback, revisions, and self-editing in 2010. So, more planning and hopefully a little less editing and viola (is this a french exclamation or some sort of stringed instrument?), 2 yr. Book!

Breaking News

The hunky hubby is a Camp Director. Which at our little camp means that unless he can round up someone else to do it, he must do whatever urgent task presents itself before something starts smelling, or leaking, or starving. So despite the fact that a good many Camp Directors don’t do the grocery shopping the day before a camp arrives, the hunky hubby does. But today was a little different. Today he set of on his epic journey to Costco with not zero, and not even one skilled helper. The hunky hubby had two exceptionally eager assistants clinging to his hands as he crossed the scary parking lot and into the Mecca of bulk shopping. Indeed you guessed it. Sweet boy #1 (5yrs.) and sweet boy #2 (3 yrs.) went camp shopping with him this week. They pushed the shopping pallet together through the gleaming concrete isles and loaded groceries onto the conveyer belt thingy at the checkout stand. They snorked down Costco hotdogs and sweet boy #1 even organized the different meats into the massive silver fridge for our camp cook! It was astounding, especially considering the shrieking tantrums they granted us front row seats for immediately prior to this brave escapade. I guess they just needed to get out of the house. And what do you ask did sweet boy #3 and I accomplish while the big boys were out conquering the world of produce and pastrami? Well, sweet boy #3 had a nap and played “little people.” But I, me, Kristen the Momma…got to read! I spent over 3 straight hours reading a good book. It was so incredibly glorious. I ate a quiet. Did you hear me! QUIET! Lunch alone. ALONE! While sweet boy #3 napped and I read a book!!! The hunky hubby is most assuredly my hero. Ahhhh, the sweet bliss of the written word taken in calm, quiet sips while nibbling a delicious and solitary lunch. It was glorious.

Harrowing/Heartwarming

Parent Moment of the Week

We had much eventfulness this week. From overhearing several fights between the big boys (5 and 3) “Dag-nab-it to you!” “No, dag-nab-it to you!” and “Stop being so nice” in screaming voice, which was answered at a similar volume with “I won’t stop being so nice!”, to real life physical messes. Like when sweet boy #2 had an accident, but for one reason or another he was up on the counter top sifting through the contents of our snack cupboard at the time. They never tell you about urine on the counter tops in those childbirth classes. And of course when the boys decided to “clean” the bathroom mirror as I cleared the table after lunch. Who knew that an entire foamy soap dispenser could be emptied in such a short amount of time! But this week I am choosing a cute moment. It was 6:30am and I was writing. Sweet boy #2 stumbled out of bed and wandered into the kitchen. Now for you to understand, you must realize that in our house you can’t have gum until you turn 5. The boy in question is 3. Sweet boy #2 staggers, eyes squinted to sleepy slits, to the Jell-o drawer where his brother keeps a stash of gum. He reaches in and pulls out a piece, he unwraps it, he licks it, he freezes like a deer sniffing the meadow for cougar, he looks both ways, and pops the piece into his mouth. Then he looks up and sees me watching him. Blah! Out comes the gum into his hand. Immediately an irresistible smile is applied to the situation. “Mama, I got a piece of gum for brother.” Cuteness and unquestionable honesty ensues. “Oh good,” I say. “Put it on the bookshelf for when he wakes up.” He places the slightly mushed piece in the afore mentioned location. I looked down at him. You know how there are times that you just need something special. A moment with your mom, when its not about rules and bedtime and the five food groups. A time that’s just about you and someone you love, a moment. I took his little hand and we snuck back into the kitchen. I picked up the spatula and carved off a chocolate chip cookie from the pizza stone (we’d made cookies the night before), I got him a little cup of lactose free chocolate milk. Set him down at our little coffee table and gave him a hug. He ate his cookie, he drank some of his milk, and then I took him back to bed and tucked him in with his daddy. Sometimes they just need to know that you love them. So sue me.

Glory

I saw glory this week. You know, God’s glory. Divine workings within the potty clean up and mad scrambling with massive piles of snow clothing. The hunky hubby has camps every weekend until the end of March and so if I want to go to church it is me and the three cyclones all alone. We had freezing rain Saturday night and so come Sunday morning I could barely make it to the car. We arrived at church ok, can you say studded snow tires, but the parking lot had accumulated a treacherous coating of lightning slick ice and I was wearing really dumb shoes. I had three small children and three big bags and I could barely stand up, much less hobble into service. I sent out a desperate prayer and right then our neighbor drove up. She stopped, the door opened, and one of our guy counselors hopped out. She drove away and he stood in front of us for a moment, “Can I have a ride back to camp?” “Sure, here take three bags and 1/2 a child.” He helped us scramble into the service and that was when I found out that my mom had been praying for us right then. Praying that we would make it over the ice. Hmmmmm.

And yet again I am stuck by His glory. For this week I was gifted by a long coveted friendship. A friendship that I have been praying about for a year and a half. It wasn’t in my timing and it didn’t happen before I’d wasted a good amount of time whining about it. But God has just blessed me with a good friend, and I am awestruck and so very very grateful.

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