Jacob's First Autumn

Convicted or Condemned

I've been thinking about the difference between condemnation and conviction lately. A house is condemned; a criminal is convicted. These are the situations where we hear these words used most frequently. I am neither a house (though ask me in about 4 more months and I may tell you that I feel like one) nor am I a criminal. But condemnation and conviction effect me on a daily basis. So what's the difference between the two?

It seems to me, for starters, that conviction occurs with the purpose of repenting and restoring while condemnation occurs with the purpose of destroying and obliterating. We convict a criminal of a crime with the hope of punishing him in such a way that he will regret his actions and choose not to repeat them ever again, thus restoring him to the status of law-abiding citizen. We condemn a structure because it is no longer deemed safe and thus must be destroyed. There is hope for the criminal but all hope is lost for the house. I think I'd rather be the criminal:).

So then, who does the condemning and who does the convicting in my life? Well, the obvious answer is that Satan condemns and Jesus convicts. There's more to it than that, though, as I am discovering while digging into the treasure chest that God's Word is. But alas, the baby is wanting some attention. Perhaps a Part 2 will be necessary!

Sarah Grace: A Snapshot

Sarah Gracie, with salsa on your mug, look at your momma!

Gracie, I wanted to take a NICE picture of you!!!

You're ornery through and through, Girlie!!!!

This girl of ours is something else! She was a perfect angel for the first three months of her life; every mother's dream come true baby! Easy going, hardly ever cried, put herself to sleep when she was tired and cute as a button. And then..... We're still looking for the individual who flipped her switch! From about 4 months to about 15 months the girl drove us batty!!!!! She cried, whined, complained, fussed, wailed and sobbed and she did it all very, very loudly. She wanted to be held, BY ME, all the time and so I did, simply to provide our home with a little peace and quiet. Praise the Lord, and I really, really do mean that, we all lived through her first year. Now, here she is, three years old and what we've got is that perfect angel mixed with that little stinkpot all in one incredibly delightful package. She's sweet as can be and ornerier than all get out.

Our very latest talker, we still can't understand about 1/4 of what she says (which is a vast improvement, believe me). We constantly wonder what we've agreed to as she rattles on and on about who knows what and we politely nod our heads in consent. She'll attempt any word under the sun (today she tried her linguistics out on the word 'competition') but oh, how we wish she would have been born with an interpreter. In fact, for quite some time my mother described her as the foreign exchange student:). And it was the perfect description.

Around here she's known as the Chicken Whisperer. She can cuddle and pet nearly any bird in the flock of 22 with seemingly little effort while they run for their lives from the rest of us. She is fascinated with horses and is certain that every single one is "Spir-dit", the horse from her very favorite movie by a similar name ("Spirit"). She grosses us out on a regular basis by holding pet slugs and other various outdoor creatures. We all laid down the law, however, when she marched in the house with a daddy long leg in her hand!

Sounding a bit on the tom-boyish side, isn't she? Don't be fooled. The girl LOVES anything that smells pretty, can be found on a daily basis nursing her wee little babies, and is the first of my children to inherit my ability to cry at the same movie over and over again! She and Hannah love to play "House" and Sarah always gets the role of "Christy", the young daughter.

Miss Sarah Grace is busy from the moment she rises until the moment she crashes and yet still, her very favorite place to be in the whole wide world is snuggled up on my lap with a lock of my hair in her little hand. She keeps me on my toes (and I have a hunch its only just begun!) and I simply cannot imagine my life without her.

Nicknames

I'm not quite sure how it happens, this metamorphose of names. We don't ever intend to come up with these crazy nicknames! They just happen....

That being said, I'd like to introduce you to Bubba! Of course, his full name is Bubba Stinky, also known as Bubbsie-Boy or Bubbsie, for short. Occasionally, Bubba morphs into Bubbaloni which then causes us all to break out into song:

"My Bubbaloni has a first name

Its J-A-C-O-B

My Bubbaloni has a second name

Its A-A-R-O-N

We love to eat him every day

And if you ask us while we'll saaaaayyyyyy.....

Jacob Aaron is the sweetest boyyyyyyyyyyyy"

Sometimes, Bubba evolves into Bubba-Rootsie, a name born from Daddy's song that goes something like this( sung to the tune of "Allouette"):

"Bubba-Rootsie

Stinky, stinky tootsie

Bubba-Rootsie

Stinky, stinky toots"

Once in a blue moon, if he's lucky, we simply call him "Jacobeeee" or "Jakey-Poo".

Now he really isn't stinky; in fact, I think he smells delicious right down to his (stinky) little toes. And I'm sure we won't call him Bubba-Stinky when he's 18. But for now, he's our sweet Bubbsie-Boy....and that's just how it is!

A Fancy for Forts

Blankets and chairs; couch cushions and pillows; clothes pins, sleeping bags, tea sets and imaginations. That's all one really needs to transform my living room into some form of organized chaos! It will do nothing for the editors of the latest Pottery Barn catalog but it does WONDERS for the Fantastic Five!

The only time you'll ever catch Kaleb with a pink blanket over his head!

Always the hospitable one, Hannah was prepared to tend to the hungry builders.

Smiling eyes...Oh, the delight of a fort!

She was mid-sentence. A conversation with the make-believer.

You are NEVER too old to build a fort! In fact, at this point, you are engineering a masterpiece!

Little Boy Blue Eyes was busy building, too!

Chip of the Ol' Block

She's a chip off the ol' block, I guess. Does anybody recall this event? Last night for dinner I made a lovely Chicken and Biscuits Casserole, complete with biscuits made containing cream cheese! How could you go wrong? My sweet, darling little Hannah came in from outside just as I was pulling dinner from the oven. She turned up her petite little freckled nose and announced with great concern: "Mom, something smells like poo-poo!" Yes, dear Girl, that would be your dinner......

I thought it smelled rather comfort-foodish! Should have just stuck with Mac and Cheese, I guess.

Here Comes My Dad!!!

I was recently reading Psalm 18 in a snippet of time that I had between changing diapers and teaching fractions. Have you read it recently? It may have just been my mood that day, but it actually made me laugh right out loud. David is in the midst of anguish, going so far as to say that the sorrow of Hell surround him. It is obvious that his enemy (who just happens to be the same enemy that we have today) was having a hay-day with him. In verse 6 he says, "In my distress I called upon the Lord, and cried out to my God". It goes on to say that God heard his voice all the way from His temple and that his cry came before Him, even to His ears. And then the fun begins! God gets MAD!!!!! He's so mad He's breathing smoke (I think I may have felt nearly that mad once or twice) and fire is coming from His mouth. But He doesn't just stay up there in His temple, steaming. Oh, no! He comes on down and takes care of business. He sends hailstones and fire and arrows. The earth shook, the hills quaked...all because God was angry! He swoops down from His temple and He rescues this one that He loves so very much. Its a beautiful, powerful, amazing Psalm.

The day I read it, I had this brief 'vision' (doesn't that sound lofty? Don't be impressed! I think it came to me in the bathroom:) ) of this little boy being tormented by the playground bully. Truly, terribly tormented. Picked on and belittled and ridiculed and tortured until finally the little boy calls out, "Daaaaddddddyyyyyy!!!!!!!! Help!!!!!!!!!!!!!". Suddenly an unsettling silence envelopes the playground followed by the distant sound of thunder growing closer at an alarming rate. The little boy looks up with a new found courage and looks straight into the scowling eyes of the bully. "You've had it now. Here comes my dad!"

Isn't that how it is with our Abba Father? Oh, that I could have the daring confidence that David did and the little boy in my vision did! Next time Satan is tormenting me, dragging me lower than low, I hope I remember this and cry out, "Daaaaadddddyyyyyy!!!! Help!!!! and then, with confidence and expectation, say to my enemy, "You better watch out NOW! Here comes my Dad!!!!!"