The art of being beautiful

The door is leaned up against a corner in my bedroom. A reminder that things

that are built right just get more beautiful with the years.

I pray my marriage gets more beautiful. The rough spots of trying to

work out the logistics of having a large family and having a loving, romantic,

intentional marriage is hard some days. As a wife, I see myself getting older

in the mirror and wonder, "will he always find me attractive?"

 Am I the only

one who thinks such things??

 

 Is my love for the Lord growing so that the love for my husband

is growing. Am I kinder and more gentler than I was the day before?

 Am I tuning out the world and tuning into my design as

 his wife

When the day comes and the kids are gone and it's just us again

will I look more beautiful to him then when we started? Will he, the one that

chose me above all others, think I'm more beautiful or after living with

me all these years not be able to see the true beauty because for all

the years I didn't grow in love, I just grew older. 

So many times

I didn't search out his favor I searched out my own.

I put him last when I should have put him first.

I didn't laugh at his jokes.

I didn't make love to him because I didn't have time.

I didn't make his favorite meal because it was easier to

make a quick meal for the kids.

I didn't stay up late and listen to his dreams.

I didn't forgive easily.

I forgot to write him letters.

I wanted him to romance me instead of me romancing him.

I didn't make his coffee and bring it to him in bed.

I didn't iron his clothes because I don't iron. 

I didn't make his lunch

or make his favorite supper.

or a thousand other things I should have done

 that I'm called to do.

I forgot that my job was supposed to be all about him.

Somewhere along the way we forget that we were created for our husbands

 and that's what takes away our beauty. Little by little

the world tells us it's about us and we believe.

When I'm around women that have not forgotten the true

art of their beauty, which is to love and respect their husband with all of

their heart, I think to myself, "now, she is a beautiful woman."

and she will get more beautiful with age...

Are you aging well?

Motherhood from the kitchen

My kitchen is not the most beautiful nor is it the most functional, but it's mine and the time I have spent puttering around it makes me happy. As I get older I realize very few things in life will continue to stay the same, but my kitchen is someplace I share with every one of my children and, Lord-willing, will share with my grandchildren.The flour is always tucked away and can be pulled out to whip up some rolls or cookies,

and the chocolate milk is kept on hand for the hurt feelings that roam through my kitchen. The hot chocolate too, for those days when they come in from feeding the chickens with cold cheeks and noses.

The heat from the oven spilling out to warm the place I seem to spend most of my time. The fridge is never clean and the floor is always dirty but it's the place my feet really touch the ground.

Mothering to so many is hard some days but as Spurgeon said,

"God forbid that we should offer to the Lord that which costs us nothing" and so with the Lords help I serve day in and day out. My life constantly being poured out to the souls before me... offering Him something of myself that seems so inadequate. Some days that pouring out is as if I were a full pitcher and my family is watered easily. Other days my pitcher feels bone dry and I keep tipping myself but nothing comes out, or so I think.. something always comes out... words of love, or words of discouragement. Critical spirit or a kind loving spirit.

It's on those hard days that I set out to baking, warming my kitchen with my oven, and sweetening my mood with rich cookies that I place before them when I'm not able to offer them much..it always seems to do the trick....  by the time I clean the last dish my mood has been cleaned as well and I'm full again.

In my kitchen I cover them with love with the food I make.

I warm their bones or delight their tummies. I give the girls a passion for feeding those God has entrusted us with and a passion for their future husbands and children.When their daddy comes home he will have a warm, special meal on the table waiting for him. It's not fancy, the meal is simple and economical, but it's always an experience. New candles, a bunch of wild flowers, and the laughter is new with every meal but I've noticed that lately that their feet don't dangle like they used to. I catch myself in the middle of dinner searching underneath my table when no one is watching. I used to smile a smile of "oh, I have lots of time, their feet don't come close to touching the ground." but now I notice that their feet are closer to the ground than to the bench and I lean back up and start searching their faces and I realize it's happening...

They're growing and I'm growing older and with the time that is set before me I have to be about the business the Lord has appointed me to.

Teaching the next generation to love Him.

 

The same small space

The whispers in the night can be heard. The giggles of sisters roam my halls, bouncing off the beams

like rays of sunshine bouncing off my windows. The sound warms you deep inside somewhere.

There is 13 years difference between them and I still thank the Lord that we followed Him instead of the way of the world when the world told us we should stop. 

"I'm glad that's you and not me having all those babies... you'll never have a life.."

Really? I dare to differ with you. 

God's way is always better than

your way, world.

So we followed God and we end up with scenes like this

all over our house... not a bad turn if I do say so myself.

  

They cook together and share the same small space they call their room

and at night they can be found snuggled up together reading or finishing some un-done

project for the day, but they're together. They're always together.

Their worlds so mixed up that you hardly notice one without the other one.  As I walked in

their room it hit me that the years of their togetherness is slowly finishing up.

Her desire is to marry one day and so with marriage she will move and leave

a little sister behind.

 My walls will cease to hear their giggles and the silence will be replaced by different noises

but for now I'm convincing my heart that I'm doing the right thing

by teaching her to leave. Teaching her that she will one day take her place

beside a man and cleave and yes leave.

but until then..... 

I will enjoy the view from their door-way and enjoy every single moment that I have with

them under the same roof, because one day it will be different but for right now

they share the same small space..

Together.

If you hear the world tell you you're crazy for doing something, you're probably doing the right thing.

Dwelling Place

Dwelling place may be translated to "refuge" or "abiding-place" and provides the

thought that God is our abode, our home. There is a fullness and sweetness

in the metaphor, for our home is dear to our hearts, although it may be the humblest cottage

or the tiniest loft; and dearer still is our blessed God, in whom we live and move and have our

being.

It is home that we feel safe: We shut the world out and dwell in quiet security. So

when we are with our God we fear no evil. He is our shelter and retreat, our abiding refuge.

At home we take our rest; it is there we find repose

after the fatigue and toil of the day. And so our hearts find rest

in God when, wearied with life's conflict, we turn to him and our souls

dwell secure.

At home we also relax; we are not afraid of being misunderstood, nor of our words

being misconstrued.

Home, too, is the the place of our truest and purest

happiness: And it is in God that our hearts find their deepest delight.

We have joy in Him that far outweighs all other joy. 

including a hot bubble bath

 and a moms skirt to cling to.

It is also home that we work and labor. The thought of it gives us strength to bear the daily

burden, and quickens the hands to perform the task; and in this

sense we may also say that God is our home.

Home is a shade to our eyes

Home is where an earthly father teaches and guides

and reads the words of His heavenly Father. 

Home ...The beautiful dwelling place of our Lord.

Spurgeon

A nice place to recover....

My kids are sick. My bed is full with their hot little bodies. I fuss over them and pray over them.
I hold one after the other, my lap constantly being used as a place to lay their weary heads on. I don't mind.

I have cancelled all the unimportant things that can wait. I put a big pot of soup on my stove and just plan on holding up here until the Lord intervenes. Wiping noses and tears.The warmth of the sun finally making it's way through my kitchen window. My eyes keep looking at the clock waiting in anticipation the home-coming of my beloved. My home is not home until he's here. Making his home a home while he is away fighting his battles. The menu for the evening being thought out perfectly with him in mind.The smell of fresh dough rising in a bowl for the evening meal always brings a smile to my face.

 My little girls helping me out with the dishes and a little cleaning also brings a smile:)  

A little candle light and hot muffins help my home feel

like a nice place to recover. 

Being Swallowed up.....

Being swallowed up by life is where I find myself as of late. Waking early to only work my way through

a very busy day where there never seems to be enough hours. Going to bed at night wrestling with thoughts of what or who did I miss? A busy season of my life. Full..
I could here His voice saying, "Robin, there are so many things you're preoccupied with. Be about My business, not yours..."
So I've been praying daily, "Lord, teach me what is pleasing toYou."
Being swallowed up by this life and just drifting is useless if I don't keep in mind why I do what I do.

I desire to be a Christian wife to my husband. Not because he's the perfect husband but because one day I will stand before Him and He will judge me for my role as wife and I don't want to disappoint Him. I want Him to say, "Oh, dear Robin, you relied on Me..You trusted me..You forgave even when you didn't have to, You loved the man that I gave you with all of your heart and soul. You desired to do him good all the days of your life." (ok, so I don't always do this...)
I desire to home school my children. Not because I am smart or fearful of the world but because one day I will stand before Him and the time I spent teaching my children about Christ will be there and I want there to be lots of hours before Him..I want Him to say, "Well done my good and faithful servant, You messed up but you were faithful"....

I desire to be swallowed up by this life of my mine but I must be about my His business and managing His business in my life takes all of me....so if my posts are slow in coming please know that I'm about my Fathers business as wife and mother and some days His business calls allllllll day.
Just like you I'm busy training my children. This is an all day, everyday task..I train and then train some more.
I discipline and love and cherish each one of them and when they leave my home I want them to remember me as a loving, devoted mother not a loving, devoted blogger :)....