Reading The Bible

Two years ago Burl asked me, "Mom, have you finished reading the Bible yet?" The answer was multifold of "I never stop reading the Bible" and "actually I haven't read every word but I've read several parts multiple times." That conversation stuck with me, because I want my children to know that I believe so strongly in the Bible that I have read every word, so I launched into a read-through-the-Bible schedule with the goal of reading it within three years.

It has been the best, richest, favoritest way that I've experienced the Bible. BY FAR. I think that I will always have this schedule as my basis for my personal devotions. I'm about 3/4 of the way through it and I'll say two things about it:

1. The Bible makes more sense to me and is way better than I've ever realized. 

It is my lifeline. 

2. There's some weird stuff in there and I have more questions than ever before. 

If you're at all interested in Christianity or are a Christian yourself, then I would highly encourage trying this schedule. (The reading takes about 20 minutes each day.)

Also, I would love to talk/email with anyone who wants to discuss it. 

Mom, The Community Helper

Fern had to choose a community helper to be, and she chose "mom" because she wants to be just like me. Her words, not mine. (Birthday presents were doubled when she told me this.)

For her tools, she said that she needed a pots, pans, purse, wallet, and a baby doll. (There was no mention of a phone-winning!)

When asked what would happen if there were no moms, the two moms said, "all the children would die."  

Too Much & Not Enough

I can't slow down time or add days to this sweet short season of my life. However, I can slow the pace by which I live them. For the next year, I've given up social media (blog excluded) and texting.  I've taken major strides on getting myself off of my phone over the year and it's helped, but the changes have not been enough. I want for more of life and less of phone. 

The main reason that I'm doing this is that I have a disdain for keeping up with and managing my phone. It's another thing to get out the door, another thing that I have to make sure is with me, another thing to check, and another thing to speed up my life. I was fed up.

Growing up in the 80s and 90s, cell phones didn't enter the scene until I was in college. In many ways I hold a deep nostalgia for that pace of life. The only interruptions were a knock on the door or a ringing phone. I was either with people or I wasn't with people. My time alone was alone and my time with people was fun and great. There were no blurred lines of socializing. When I was by myself I watched TV, listened to music, wrote in my journal, (I didn't become a reader until adulthood,) daydreamed, moped, doodled, and my ultimate favorite thing to do: wondered about stuff. 

Texting and Instagram helped living my life like this for a little bit. Texting helped coordinate my calendar and Instagram gave me a fuller view into the lives of my friends. These were helpful tools until they weren't. The scales tipped along the way and socializing happened on my phone instead of in person-a watered down version of friendship. 

Sure, I love a good banter in my girlfriend text thread or sharing cute videos of the the kids with my extended family. It became too much and not enough. I was shoving my phone camera in my kids faces to share whatever cute thing they were doing at the moment. I missed hanging out and letting loose and not worrying about a picture. 

This word vomit of thoughts got me to hating my cell phone. I was ready to get rid of it and install a landline. After talks with John and friends, the decision was made to cut down the functions of my iPhone. I'm a little scared about the adjustment, but I'm also looking forward to the reclaimed time and fuller meet ups with friends.

Sentimental Yard Work

Ridge gets lit about mowing the yard with John. LIT! He rather mow more than dessert, playground, or a movie. Mowing is his absolute favorite. (He also likes to multitask too and nurse his fox at the same time.)

The last time they mowed together, John and I had a full circle, palm-to-face, struck by lightening moment. Burl (7 1/2) used to be the exact same way. He even wore the clothes and shoes that Ridge wears now. At the very moment we realized that Ridge has the same passion that Burl used to have, we realized that Burl has traded his interest for bike riding with neighbor friends. He was off climbing trees or playing with pocket knives or something boyish like that. Woah. We stood there for a minute and could not take it in. All of the sudden, basic yard work is sentimental. 

We love it. We love this stage with Ridge and we love it with Burl. Sometimes the shift happens so slowly that we don't realize we're moving. Next thing we know, our parenting boat has slipped off one shore and headed to another shore and we're left there in the middle of the open water. We're wondering how it happened, looking at each other knowing full well that we're not made to put our anchor down in one spot of time. We're made to move. The crazy part is that we forget and it hits us that all of the sudden. We look at each other and realize that we've been slowly moving the whole time. Oh yeah, time changes. We live in the moment, and we don't want to change that.  (How's that for a drawn out metaphor.)

For the grandparents and my loyal friend and blog reader, Lauren, click HERE for pictures of Burl around the same age doing the same thing. Mind blown.

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