Mental health

Lizzy posed a question to me recently:  "What is mental health?"

I took a very deep breath.  Is this the moment when I need to explain to my daughter that clinical depression and anxiety likely run in her genes?  Did someone say something to her about her mother's psyche?  

I gave a very brief definition ("'mental' means how you think, so 'mental health' is if your thinking is healthy"), and then, thankfully, paused and asked her where she heard that term.  

She moved a chair over, climbed up, and got down a package of bunny treats.  She read from the back.  "'Promotes mental health'...... oh wait...... 'dental health.'"

Caleb has started baseball this year.  His recent practice shook his mental health when it ended with his coach getting carted off to the emergency room to get his face stitched up after taking a line drive to the mouth.

Shortly after that, Jason sat down with him to order him an athletic cup, in preparation for the first game coming up soon.  Caleb asked what a cup is.  After Jason explained, Caleb thought about that soberly for a moment and then said, "Well, it's more my face I need it for."

[I have always said, and continue to say, that girls are the reasonable ones for wearing face masks in softball.  Why boys bother to wear a cup but not a face mask/helmet is beyond me.]

A few days later Caleb's cup arrived, courtesy of Amazon Prime.  Within the first ten minutes of opening it, Caleb's rabbit Ears had used it by turns for a food bowl, a rocking chair, a helmet, and a hockey mask.

It can't be much more than a matter of time before Caleb is embarrassed by pretty much everything he does and says nowadays, but he need not be embarrassed of where his hope lies.  There are certain things, big things, that he understands perfectly well--better than certain world-class physicists.  

This morning's sermon was on Genesis 1:1:  In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth.

I was a bit startled to realize that Caleb was actually paying attention when the preacher was talking about the ludicrousness of atheism, and how some people believe there's no God.  Caleb turned to me, amused, and asked rhetorically, "Then who made us?"

Indeed, mental health problems may run in my children's genes.  But if they can always grasp the big categories of life as clearly as my six-year-old can today, I'm less worried about them than if they were self-confident world-class physics geniuses.

Love and marriage

Caleb told me his true feelings the other day.

"I wish they would change the law so you can marry your sisters.

Then I could marry Lizzy.

We'd have Slurpees and aaaall the marshmallows we want."

Addition stories

First grade math book:  "Make up a number sentence for this picture."


Caleb:  "Three bunnies on fire plus five bunnies not on fire."

The things that excite us

Driving home from dinner one night:

The odometer is about to say 88888!  Only three more miles!  Get ready!

Two miles!

One more mile!  Take a picture!  Take a picture!

Yeeeeaaahh!  U-S-A!  U-S-A!  Woohoo!

Quotes from my children

We start each school day together with Bible time.  It usually takes a few minutes for everyone to settle down and get in school mode.  We've also usually just let Buck out of his cage and so, all things considered, the beginning of Bible time is rather chaotic.  One day Lizzy was following Buck around and calling attention to his cuteness while I was trying to get everyone to be quiet already.  Caleb, with his heart in the right place, shouted, "THIS IS THE BIBLE, AND THAT'S IMPORTANTER THAN BUCK!"

After years of hard work, and some outside help, reading has finally clicked for Lizzy.  She can suddenly read fluently.  What a relief for me that we've finally succeeded at this goal, and what a joy for her.  I asked her recently, "How does it feel to be able to read?"  She said,


"It feels awesome."

Caleb--who is still figuring out his place in the world--to Jeddy:  "I'm the most important thing God made.  Even though I'm last."


And another day, when Jeddy told Caleb that the Romans killed a lot of people:  "They had bad manners."


And to think we insist on them saying please and thank you.

Caleb, to me, on another day, covering his entire math paper with a layer of pennies when he was supposed to be measuring a tiny line segment with them:  "Relax.  I know what I'm doing."

Lizzy and Caleb seem to be thick as thieves lately, playing together for hours while I do school with the older ones.  I commented on this to Lizzy one day.

Me:  "Have you and Caleb been getting along pretty well lately?"

Liz:  "Well....."

Me:  "Not always?"

Liz (eight years old):  "Not always, because we have sin."

An open letter to single moms in church

Dear mom of young children, alone in the pew,



Thank you for coming to church today.  Thank you for bringing your children. 


I see your weariness on your haggard face.  I know your frayed sanity seems to hang by a shred. 


I read your mind as clearly as I read my bulletin:  "Why did I even come?  What's the point?  I haven't heard a single thing the pastor has said." 


I know you have had it up to HERE.


I see your children climbing on you and fighting over who gets to sit where.  I saw your adorable preschooler smack her brother across the face when you weren't looking.  I hear your children whining.


I'm so blessed by you and your children being here.


I know that I'm not the only one trying to pass on the gospel to the next generation.  I know I'm not the only one who cares so much that I would wake a sleeping baby to get to church this morning.


I see how hard you're working to bring your children into God's presence, and I have hope for the future.  I see our Lord welcoming and delighting in little sinners, and I have hope for myself.


You may not have heard a word of the sermon or stopped whispering reprimands long enough to pray a single prayer, but your family's presence is preaching the gospel to me.  You believe Jesus is worth it.  You long for your children to know the Lord, and you are willing to sacrifice morning after morning, wrestling in the pew, to invest in that hope.  Nothing is more important to you than worshipping our God--not even sleep, or ease, or pretending you've got it all together. 


Don't be bothered that I see your children misbehave.  Please keep coming.  Please keep sitting near me.  Please be encouraged, dear one, that you and your children truly help me rejoice in our Savior Who beckoned little ones to come to Him.