Paul, Beanie and I spent some time in the ER last night. We had been in a car accident. I hurt my knee and my ankle. Paul had a lot of bleeding from the head and Beanie was fine. At the ER we called ourselves Annabelle, Lewis and Student. There were only two doctors attending and they had the same last name. The female Dr. H. ran around with a headset and administered a lot of shots. The other Dr. H. was very thorough in his interview or whatever it is called when they ask a lot of questions before they examine you. He was big into X-rays.

I was seen first. By the time they got to Lewis he was delusional. Although he didn’t realize I was his wife he was quite flirtatious. He finally passed out. They only thing that saved him was a brain shock that somehow stimulated his heart. He also received some more shots. I can tell you he wasn’t happy about that. Nobody likes shots, but try some administered with a Tinker Toy rod and a colored pencil.

About a half an hour after their regular bedtime the female Dr. H. decided she wanted to be a patient and pitched a little fit when informed it was time for bed.

Finally we got them all down and Paul ran out to pick up Chinese.

This is my Stuff Portrait for Friday.

You know you are a grown up when your Friday night is spent pretending to be a victim of a car accident, eating Chinese late, then picking up the house before you go to bed…and you are happy.

Last winter I was in a Bible study for which I memorized verses every week. These were good verses, powerful verses. As I memorized more and more I was struck by the things God promises us.

For example this is what 1 Corinthians 10:13 says:

“No temptation has seized you except what is common to man. And God is faithful; He will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, He will also provide a way out so that you can stand up under it.”

What really got me was the thought that we are promised a way out without qualification. There are a lot of “therefores” in the Bible which require going back and looking at what came before that the following hinges on. There is none of that here. It is flat out, a way out so that you can stand up under whatever temptation has seized you.

Memorizing this I realized I didn’t live my life looking for the way out that God has promised to provide. In some areas it was clear I didn’t really believe it. But I wanted to. I began to wonder what would life be like if I lived it knowing I can’t do it on my own, that I need God’s amazing grace to make it every day and knowing it’s already there waiting for me.

I need it most with my kids. I am doing the most important work I can ever do, but it is wrapped in mundane, never-ending chores. Housework, laundry, the grind of making meal after meal can obscure my focus from the incredibly important recipients of my labors.

Today I was exhausted, with an aching head and no patience. The only thing I had going for me was clarity. I recognized that I was teetering on the abyss of angry and frustrated mothering. So I pulled back and cried out for help and then waited.

This is what happened: I made myself a healthy sandwich then took Tylenol, I kicked everyone outside, I let them eat any junky thing they requested, my mother-in-law came over (I had invited her hours before I was in crisis) and she swam with them while I waited for my headache to clear, we came inside and the girls watched videos while my son played on the computer. When Paul got home I went to our bedroom and took a little nap. At 7 pm I left for a meeting.

It is 10:45 and I feel good, ready to go to bed and get some good rest then start over tomorrow. Yes, it would have been lovely if I could have made it through the day, being gentle and loving with my children while providing nutritious snacks and stimulating play. I didn’t. I was gentle and loving. I was patient. I did not yell. I found the way out. Next time it might be wider. Today it was wide enough.

Thank You. I am going to keep taking You at your Word.

We have a mom here, plumb out of compassion. Sadly, we also have a girl who is constantly hurting herself and is no stoic. There is also a boy who is rowdy and wild as well as a baby fresh from a nap but not really fresh, sort of squashed looking and cranky.

The compassionless woman is slumped over the controls and this plane is headed for the ground. Will the Holy Spirit intervene yet again? Is there really no temptation except what is comman to man? Is God faithful? Will He provide a way out?

I’ll keep you posted.

Our company has departed. They were here 17 days. Days 1-6 were lots of fun for kids and grownups.

Around day 7 things started to crack, the kids were at each others’ throats, Paul had just left the country and I was weeping if I breathed.

By day 9 the other husband was gone and the kids were still fighting and the only words Margaret and I exchanged were to tell each other the other’s kid had hit one of our own.

Day 10 we both got out of the house, separately, which was vital for everyone.

Days 11 and 12 we did some fun things and spent a little time apart each day.

Days 13 and 14 she went to another friend’s cottage.

Early morning of Day 15 Paul returned and then late evening of Day 16 Matt returned. Yesterday the kids had a lot of fun together and we parents got out for dinner while my mom babysat for the 4th time. (She is going to have a MANSION in heaven!)

Last night at dinner, Matt thanked us again for our hospitality and we all dissolved into laughter thinking about the mayhem of the past weeks.

They are on their way to their new home for the next few years while Matt gets his Ph.d. As they were pulling away, Margaret shouted, “Give us four days and we’ll be ready for a visit!”

We’re going to give them a little bit more time to build up a longing.

He was due in near midnight last night. Sadly he sat in Miami for a couple of hours because of lightning, then another because of an alleged mechanical, then one more to wait for a flight crew. This meant he wasn’t able to make his final connection from Chicago, the hub of doom. He called around 7 p.m. which I knew wasn’t good as he should have been flying somewhere north of the Mason-Dixon. With an air of resignation he relayed the news that best case scenario he would be flying into Chicago around midnight and would rent a car, hopefully to arrive home around 3 a.m.

This was decidedly not good news for me since I was exhausted and about to put the kids into bed. I had already called a friend to pray for me as I was committed to treating my children with gentleness and respect. I bitched a little about his itinerary which had him flying around Venezuela at 6 every morning and then leaving at 11 the morning he was coming home. You never want the last flight out of anywhere, especially Chicago. I mentioned this and then felt guilty knowing he was tired and frustrated, facing another flight and then a long drive. I apologized.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he said.

“Well I’m sorry to be bitching at you about something out of your control. I just wish you seemed more upset.”

“I already moved past anger. It is what it is.”

“I know. I guess…OK, here’s my request, when you are about to hurl a bag of poo at me, would you please acknowledge that you are hurling a bag of poo and be a little apologetic so that I can be all sweet and, “It’s not your fault, I understand, etc”?

“Yeah, I can do that.”

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

When he travels, which averages out to every couple of months, he is gone for about a week. He has had a couple of trips that have been under seven days, but by and large they are closer to eight. The hard thing is it only averages out to every couple of months, which means that he can be home for four months then ( like this past Spring) be gone three weeks out of a six week period. I realized this week that this is not working for me and that we can make some requests. For example, make it known that trips exceeding seven days are really stressful on our family and see if there is any way they can be avoided. I wish I had learned to make requests a long time ago.

My instinct is to just state my needs or rather to whine about my unmet needs, but to ask for help was a foreign concept. “Ask and it shall be given…” And if it’s not I can choose what I want to do in the situation other than whine and moan.

Imagine that.