I am a Preschool Teacher (!) - as of Monday. I’ll have a class of up to eight (probably eight) two year olds with special needs that will be very cute and heartbreaking. I get to teach them two mornings a week in my classroom, and do home visits the rest of the week. Hurrah for one to one time!

I’m very excited.

On other good news, God has been blessing my friend and family relationships, financial situation, and I’ve even lost weight.

The loveliest thing about blessings is the direct conveyance of them from God to me. The older I get, the more clearly I see His hand in all that happens to me or through me, and the more overwhelmed I am by the vast arrays of love He lets me glimpse. He always gives more than I could ever ask or imagine – more and better.

I’m amazed at how much He loves - to bless a sinner like me with the unending riches of His holy, beautiful prescence.

To Kill a Mockingbird – Title Sequence by Stephen Frankfurt

We watch this movie every August. It’s the only movie (for me) that competes on equal footing with the book it’s based on. Read the book or watch the movie - in fact - do both if you can. You won’t waste your time.

We left at 11 am, just in time to hit as much traffic as possible. Within five minutes everyone in the car was sweating. My dear father, who has put a great deal of time and effort into the air circulation of the cooling system, wanted us to try the AC. This was great for those seated before vents (3 people) but the rest of us stifled for an hour or so, before finally compiling a revolt and insisting the windows be opened. This was much better, and we sat in a wind tunnel for the next six hours.

Our van does a great job at promoting family cooperation, and provides many opportunities to serve and humble ourselves to one another. The topic of windows being open is a frequent opportunity. The traffic is slowing – should we shut them now? The person sitting right in front of the window has been sitting in huge gusts for two hours, and the person on the back seat is still desperately gasping at the stray puffs of air that sail their way. And what about when it rains? Some people receive a steady spray of cold water from the open windows, and some enjoy a cool breeze. The van, when loaded, also presents opportunity – whose feet should be on the seat, and do you get to put your feet on the seat if they are huge? Some people are cold, but only a few brought blankets – should Brian have to unroll his painstakingly compressed sleeping bag to provide warmth for the blanketless sardines on the back seat? And do we really have to make a half hour bathroom stop for one person? These questions and more were all topics for discussion in the sticky confines of our vehicle this weekend.

The first half of the trip, I rode in the back seat with my brothers Matt and John. Although the hottest (or coldest, depending on extremes) seat in the car, this wasn’t so bad. Matt solemnly sat beside me and played with Matchbox cars, and John played Catchphrase with Abi. I tried to find places to put my feet (much to the annoyance of Zach, crammed in with Abi on the seat before me), and knit gauge swatches for a sweater I’m trying out. This knitting project was its own Jonah experience, because although I had 16 hours in the car this weekend to work on it, I came home with one finally completed gauge swatch, and a final determination of which needles to use. And no progress whatsoever. I ripped it out and started over probably 17 times. Rather frustrating, but it was better than sitting idly.

We stopped for the bathroom after 3 hours or so, parked in a shadeless area, and stickily stampeded towards the air conditioned building ahead. Ah, heavenly bliss – we stood about absorbing that for a few minutes. Our family tends to draw significant stares at rest stops because of the obvious family resemblance between 12 people, apparently minimal gaps in age, and sheer impressive amount of humanity contained in a small area. We aren’t always together that way, and people always do double takes.

We made it through that day somehow, and I was very impressed that we only had a few fights – God really blessed us with peaceful attitudes for most of the trip. We reached my aunt’s house, unpacked the car, and then us 6 girls went shopping for dress clothes for the next day. Shopping for clothing with modest girls is never a fun experience – adventurous, sometimes exciting, but rarely enjoyable. There are so many points for something to be wrong on, and each girl has different body types, and therefore different areas to watch out for. A low shirt is worse for some than others, shorter skirts are essential for some and impossible for others. Etc. And when you find something with a high collar, its sure to have a short skirt. Or be too tight. Or have a sheer negligie-like overlay. Or be ugly and make you look oddly obese. And then there’s price. Does it match other stuff I’ve got? Will I wear it frequently? Will it wash well? Do I even like this thing?

And so on. It takes hours, and you’ve got to show it to the other girls and see what they think, and in our situation, we only had a few hours to gather specific items – a pink shirt, navy blue shoes, and a dress for one girl.

So we did that, tromping from store to store, and took a wonderful break for some overrated NY pizza and Italian ices (sorry Mel) . Of course we had great girl chats as always, and found most of what we were looking for. Here we are in our final outfits:

I’m alltheway to the right.

My aunt’s house has 3 bedrooms, one level, and ONE everyone-use bathroom. When 25 people and a dog share this house (especially when 8 of those people are teenage boys) it tends to become absolutely packed. So we slept on the floor, took freezing showers, ate rather little, and sought out the rooms that had AC in them.

The morning of Grandma’s party dawned rather late on the packed masses at Aunt Theresa’s. We waited for Grandma to depart to “go to lunch” with her two daughters (my mother and aunt). Us women, who had been busily applying makeup and straightening hair, put our dresses on and went ahead to decorate the restaurant for the party. The boys, left behind with ringleader Mel, combed their hair and donned the despised white shirts they were all to wear for the party.

It was a wonderful party. Caleb (2 year old brother) ran about like a just-opened balloon the entire three hours, the boys played tunes on their fancy glasses, the men’s room was permenantly locked halfway through, and the cake amazed everyone by arriving in individual paper-thin slices, but it was lovely.

Grandma danced with each of her grandsons and son during “Great is Thy Faithfulness,” and there was hardly a dry eye left. Here she is with all of them:

The most visually amazing moment arrived when all of Grandma’s grandchildren came up to pray for her – 18 people standing around this one woman, whose godly example has touched us all in significant, loving ways – it is so amazing how God can use one life to touch (and create!) so many other people. Here Grandma is with all her children and grandchildren (except two):

Party over, we cleaned up and returned to our tiny homebase. Everyone was exhausted, except Matt and Caleb of course, who required minute by minute attention. This was extremely taxing on my parents and us older siblings, so much so that they decided to leave a day early (truly a drastic measure for our family).

We left the following day in the early afternoon amidst affectionate goodbyes, and knew afresh that in spite of cramped quarters, our fellowship was worth all the work.

Our ride home was (thank God) much cooler than the way up, and there was less traffic. And it rained.

The back window of our van has no insulation, courtesy of active-fingers Matt, and there is a huge crack between the door and ceiling of the van. We drove into a pour-down, and the water sheeted in, over the seat, onto all the pillows below the window, and all over Zach, Matt, and I. We blocked it with a towel (which quickly became saturated), and then a blanket, which rapidly acquired water and weight. Dad drove cautiously through the rainstorm, (perhaps fortunately) not discovering the emergency until we reached home. 

Sitting in my damp clothes, completely exhausted, and rather tired of giving, I was a little frustrated. But Zach and Charles and I made up wonderful stories about animated fruit (you would have to be there), and talked about the questions of the universe kids inevitably bring up at such moments. That was cherishable.

Everyone was hungry, and it was 11:30 pm by the time we got home. The baby had been crying, everyone was half asleep, the van was full of stuff.

I went up to my room lugging several tons, split my heel open on a piece of furniture, changed the hollering baby into pajamas and told Dad about the huge wet quilt stuck in the back door. 

Brian and I went to McDonalds and watched the employees dance around inside the restaurant for ten minutes before one finally emerged with our 8 cheeseburgers. 

After unpacking everything, I got to take a beautifully hot shower (which I repeatedly thanked Him for with a whole new sense of appreciation), and went to bed at 1 am.

It just amazes me that in spite of innumberable frustrations (about half are recounted here) God overwhelms with so much blessing, and that He gives us the grace to get through such times. That it’s often among the most stressful circumstances that God places some of His lovliest gems of experience. That giving up conveniences forces your focus to essentials, and that beauty sometimes arrives in a cacaphony, riding a whirlwind of dirty dishes, crammed sofas, and lines at the bathroom door.  

 I would like to recommend (HUGELY) C.J. Mahaney’s “The Cross-Centered Life – Keeping the Gospel the Main Thing.” 

I wouldn’t have purchased this book had it not been for substantial recommendation by people like Josh Harris, and my own high respect for C.J.’s teaching. The cross wasn’t a subject I needed education on, I wisely conferred within myself. I’ve known the message of the cross for as long as I can remember, and what more is there to say about it? Jesus died for sinners and rose again. I trust in Him for my salvation. Good luck expanding on THAT, C.J.!

But God of course, brought me to the book for His own purposes. I don’t exaggerate when I say it has profoundly altered my spiritual life.

Here’s a small portion of the prolific wise counsel I found in this little book:

 ”What about the practical stuff? Surely there comes a time when we move on from the gospel just a little, so we can focus on the everyday issues of our relationships with other people. This is tempting to believe, but it’s just not true. Regardless of your relationship to others, whether you’re single or married, a husband or wife, a father, a mother, or a grandparent, your faithfulness and effectiveness in your relationships are tied directly to your understanding of the cross…

…When I become bitter or unforgiving towards others, I’m assuming that the sins of others are more serious than my sins against God. The cross transforms my perspective. Through the cross I realize that no sin committed against me will ever be as serious as the innumerable sins I’ve committed against God. When we understand how much God has forgiven us, it’s not difficult to forgive others.

God’s been patient with me so I can be patient with others. God has forgiven me so I can forgive others. God’s grace is changing me so I can trust that He can also change others.

If you’re single, live a cross centered life. If you’re married, build a cross centered marriage. If you have children, practice cross centered parenting. The “practical” stuff flows from the “central” stuff.”

And how true it is. When I keep my eyes on Jesus and what He’s done for me, the things I do (or can’t do) “grow strangely dim” and yet somehow are in their proper focus.

*C.J. Mahaney is head of Sovereign Grace Ministries in Gaithersburg, M.D.

He’s trying to catch up with a departing vehicle.

“Impossible! Absurd!”

Ah, yes. While updating my blogroll, I found a highly helpful article. It’s called “Ten Things Now to Stay at Home Later.” A great read for any gal who wants to invest her quality time in raising her wee ones rather than working outside the home. Lots of practical hints, and somehow even the financial part is interesting.

Well, he wasn’t happy about this. Whenever he encountered a difficult place in the frame, he would inevitably reach desperately for the interior pieces I had set aside, certain that the piece he needed was not in front of him. “Not yet,” I would say, “you have the pieces you need right there.”

He would wail unhappily at this, but soon bent his powerful puzzling skills upon the cardboard bits before him, and before long would tap my face (we’re still working on getting attention by tapping people’s arms). He had finished the frame.

God gets me in this position a lot.

“God, I CAN’T. There’s no way. I haven’t got it in me. I don’t have the resources. Or the time. Or the desire. It just can’t happen. If I had more money I could do it. If I didn’t have so many other responsibilities I could do it. If this situation would simply be resolved then I could do it.”

But He just says, “I’ve given you what you need to do it.”

And then I have the nerve to get annoyed with Him. I huff and puff indignantly for a while, but He remains impassive. And when I finally try, suddenly the pieces come together, and I realize that it can be done. Because He sees the whole picture, when I only see a part.

It’s kind of ironic that when I felt God pulling me deeper into being a therapist for kids with autism, I kept pulling a Moses. “God, I can’t. I stink at consistency. I’m no good at understanding these children. Look at how great these other therapists are. My sister (also a therapist) instinctively understands things that I learn through painstaking trial and error. Why can’t I have THAT gift? Hey, come on God – these skills just aren’t going to happen through THIS person.”

I’m still not sure how He managed it. But when I do therapy, I am blessed with a steady confidence that He will provide me the wisdom I need to help this child, because He always does.

God has blessed me so richly with this job – He gave me so many opportunities to learn, so many great role models, so many wonderful students. And His abiding love.

All I needed to do the task He has given me.

A couple weeks ago, while in one of my last (!!!) college classes of the semester, I suddenly realized that where I was sitting in a desk most people in the world would never have the opportunity to fill. I often got caught up in self-righteous pitying when I talked with my fellow students, many of whom have parents able to contribute to their education, new cars, and just themselves to worry about when they get home. It’s been hard for me to go to school – particularly financially. But I got to go. And most people in the world will never have the chance.

This discovery was supplemanted by the geography courses I took this semester. I had to take these classes and didn’t want to; I thought I preferred an aged tome to a map. Maps are, after all, intrinsically mathematical affairs. But the maps began to work a sort of fascination on me, and I got lost in virtual worlds, composed of pictures, expository text, and graphic representations of other worlds. The Eskimos and their raw fish dinners, the new island – new country – of East Timor; India – full of opulent saris, dusty streets, sweeping monsoons. Mongolia and its nomad tribes, packing their yurts onto camels. China, and its intricately printed handbags (I used one tonight). All of these countries and places varied and breathing and here. And as much as we complain about infringements on liberty, take a look at eminent domain in China:

Yes, that thing in the middle is someone’s home. They are refusing to move because the compensation being offered them is below market value. I’m not sure what would be done about this in the US, but creating an teetering island would probably not be an option.

I have been blessed with so many things – everything I materially need, and more importantly, the spiritual riches that so many other people in the world never touch.

When I graduated, I was so blessed by the love and encouragement of my family and friends. And I did feel I had accomplished something. Of course (as I thought about it), I couldn’t have done it without God, or my Bible, or the multiple layers of support provided by my family, or without solid Christian friends. And when I look at all these things, my own achievement looks very small indeed.

This morning I read the last pages of Stop Dating the Church, by Josh Harris (an entirely humbling, inspiring read). This verse summates the way I want to look at my graduation, and at life in entirety:

“For who makes you different from anyone else? What do you have that you did not receive?” I Corinthians 4:7a.

I have deserved nothing and received much. And God is glorified, as He should always be.