Growth Hormones

It’s been awhile since I’ve given a report on our current status…so…well….let’s just sum it up this way:

At this exact moment, I am hiding in my garage.

The footsteps that I hear above me sound like mice on artificial growth hormones, but this is literally the best I can do today.  I have locked myself in my van in the garage in an attempt to get a few minutes of uninterrupted solitude.

There are only 13 minutes of battery life left on my laptop, but if you think I’m going to risk it to go inside to locate the charger… you’re nuts.  I know the barrage that awaits on the other side of the door.

“Mom, do you have any popsicle sticks?”  “Mom, do you know where my IPOD is…did Gracie take my IPOD?”  “Mommy, El-o-pe’s cwying!!”  “Mom, can I get Penelope out of her crib?”  “Mom, what’s for dinner?”  “Mom, where are the scissors?”  “Mom, can we have S’MORES for dessert?”

I would never make it back alive.

Having four kids is NOT for the faint-hearted…THAT I have learned.  We are surviving, one day at a time, and some days– even thriving.  The kids are doing great at school, Gracie is learning how to be a big sister, and well, you know…the carpets can always be ripped out.

I have probably never been so busy in my whole life.  I am being forced to find joy in things other than my personal pursuits…and am finding that it is much easier to find elsewhere anyway.

God has really been dealing with my heart, convicting me of a lack of gratitude and contentment, so I’ve been dealing with those specific things as of late.  This season of life is mostly GIVE, and that can be hard for a person who grew up thinking life was mostly about her happiness.  Ahem.

I’m coming to the realization that this season is the best one for my sanctification right now.  My kids are growing like weeds, and since we can’t afford to buy organic milk, the growth hormones are accelerating the process that much more.   Soon I will have a quiet house to sit in while I write instead of a van that smells like a combination of sweaty shoes, curdled milk, and fermented urine (don’t ask).

Soon I will grow out of this season where I am being FORCED to give so much of myself.. And I will be faced with a choice:  Will I choose to serve or seek to BE SERVED?

Hopefully I will have learned my lesson well.

**P.S. Before you call Child Protective Services, Colby was working from home while I was hiding in the garage.