The Pitter Patter of Little Feet...

Fall at our home always means the pitter patter of little feet. I heard them this past Monday, at exactly 5:18 am. This is not the sound of people feet mind you, but different little feet. The sound was like nails on a chalkboard, or Chinese water torture. Little tiny mouse teeth chewing through my walls. I don’t know if my house has an invisible 3 inch tall “come on in, you’ll LOVE it here” sign in front of it or what, but they always come with the first frost of the season. Last Fall I had 6 of them – just when I thought I got the last one, out popped another one, leaving their droppings on my pantry floor and across every shelf, and taking a nibble out of every single thing that didn’t come housed in an aluminum can. I suppose it comes with the territory of living in the country, but it’s still unnerving to think of these little rodents bringing their germs and potential illnesses into the house. Instead of imagining my beautiful children asleep in their beds, I envision little mice running across their bedding, spreading illness to their granola bars, and leaving mouse droppings in the Frosted Flakes box.  

Are We There Yet?

If you have children, or were ever a child at some point in your life, you’ve heard it before. It could be twenty minutes in, or five hours in, but somewhere between your starting point and your destination, a slightly whiny yet somewhat hopeful voice emits from behind your right ear “Are we there yet?”. Depending on your mood and the number of times you’ve already heard it, your response could vary from “No, sweetie, not yet” to a low growl. My kids are 4. They've already been on several multi-state car trips, and we also live about 30 minutes from "town". They're used to the car, most definitely. You would think as many times as we drive to town, they would realize you have to pass this white house, then that gas station, then this store before we get to town. Nevertheless, the pestering begins before we leave the driveway. They don't mean to get on my nerves, all they know is that in their frame of time reference they have been in the car, waiting, a very long time.

Did you ever think that sometimes, we are just like our children in the backseat? No? Sure we are. We make a small request of God, usually in prayer from, and then we start

*SHE* goes to church?

Note: Names may be changed to protect the innocent.

So the other day, dear hubby and I happen upon an event at a neighboring church.  We walk in, fully intent on leaving our precious children in the care of the nursery.  Let me say that I've been told I do not have a good poker face, so I'm pretty sure the "I'm so clueless" face was working it at that moment in time.  Next thing we know, we're being ushered in by Madame X, who says hello and follows with "Oh, I recognize your kids from such-and-such, where our kids used to go together.  Yours will be right down the hall."  And she points us off in the right direction.   Good thing, as walking away gave me time to pick my jaw up off the floor.  She goes to church?  You're kidding.  This woman not only never says a civil word while our children are in the same activity, she never

God loveth a waffler

“God loveth a waffler”.  I think that verse is just before “God loveth a cheerful giver”.

Admit it, you know who you are.  If you’re like me, daily, sometimes hourly, you are conversing with the Lord, “Okay Lord, would you like me to make this major life decision, or this one over here?”  And then I wait.  And wait.  Maybe if I look up towards heaven, God will know that I REALLY need an answer on this one.  And then it comes back to me: silence.  Hmmm.  Maybe he’s still thinking about his answer.  I continue. “In the meantime, let me ask you this other life-altering, major-decision-requiring question...”  “Lord?  Yoo hoo?”

“Okay, well if I don’t hear from you, I’m going to go ahead and take the step I think you want me to take, okay, Lord?”  And then the next decision comes:  “Lord, should I expand the house I’m in, buy a larger