hearing things, tuning

I am amazed at the things I hear. I have a weird buzzing that breaks into my thinking - always think it is my phone - but most of the time its nothing - paranoia? And as I sit here in the lightening morning with all of my kids still sleeping, I swear I hear the baby's distant "maaaaaama" in my ear. But I checked and she is still tucked in with blond wisps curling damp against my pillow, thinking that warm pile of down is her mama. My ears are tuned to the sounds I must consider important, eh?

I tell my kids to tune their ears to my voice. They are my children and there will rarely be any other voice as important for them to hear. My voice should break through into the cacophony of their play and imaginings, should burst through like a cymbal - and without me having to shout. How can I protect them if they don't hear me? How can I lead them and instruct them and help them if they ignore my voice. Hear me, children, because I love you!

Tune my heart to sing Thy praise ... and my ears to hear your voice, sweet Lord.

simple is better

I have a plan forming in me each time I pray and get quiet about school. It is calling me to simple. I have these precious learners to lead. And I am only me, filled up with the powerful God-Spirit and flailing with flesh-weakness, so the Simple is calling to me. (Forevermore I shall capitalize the words I wish - just as Winnie the Pooh does. Some things are Important Things and the capitalizing helps you see that I think so! Good idea, A.A. Milne.)

I type fast, the light is growing outside so I'll soon hear thumping down the stairs. I feel compelled to write this down in words so I don't forget and get muddled later. My life is not OVERwhelming. It is possible to do the things set before me because God has a plan for my days and He will do it if I will surrender and be still and listen a bit and bravely step into it.

I am eager to make lists and calendars - for maps and history and latin root words and copywork and math facts and patterns. Our little schooling house is a wonderful place to live. It is less daunting when a path rolls out before me. We can get clever and stop to lap up the sweetness of a day when the simple path is clear before us. Ah, here comes someone thumping down the steps.

to be fair ...

Just to be fair, Ruby is again sleeping in the boys room. Not to avoid any late-night squawkings of Anna; rather, to be fair. Last night her dear oldest brother offered her a squeezed in spot in his bed so she didn't have to sleep on the floor (like the last time I "trained" Anna to sleep at night). And she slept great, except for the pesky cold legs of a nightgown-wearer ("even with your warm brother?" "yes, mom, even with my warm brother").

And tonight she sleeps with Isaac (the sleep-walker) - what will he do if he wanders and then comes back to find his tuck-close 6 yr old sister in his spot? Who wants to bet I end up sleeping with a 7 yr old boy instead of Anna?

Just to be fair ...