Like father, like son

My husband loves trains.

He really, really does.

He has this uncanny ability to know where all the train tracks (both the main lines and abandoned ones) are at all times on every, and I mean every, road trip we've ever taken.

And just in case you don't believe me or need further proof...

Have you ever been taken on a date to explore trains...you know, places that post signs that say, "No trespassing or violators will be prosecuted"?

I have.

Or has your husband driven out of your way on a road trip to explore train yards in other (4 that I can remember off hand) states?

Mine has.

Does your husband spend some of his free time taking pictures of train tracks?

Mine does.

Now that you've learned a bit about my wonderful, train obsessed husband...

meet Caleb:

Apple doesn't fall far from the tree, does it?

Caleb loves to go chasing after and exploring trains.

So on some Fridays...or any other time Brad hears a train whistle...the boys jump into our car and seek after adventure.

This place is somewhere Brad bikes to near our house. He often goes there during his Sabbath time. He's taken Caleb there once or twice.

And me...on one of our last date nights.

Surprised?

You really shouldn't be by now.

What can I say?

Some things are just genetic.

My act of worship

I was browsing through this new blog I found called Passionate Homemaking the other day, and I felt such a kinship with Lindsay.

I have been overwhelmed by my "job" these last few weeks. It seems like it's harder and harder to keep up with my daily chores and weekly schedule. Most days I fall into bed exhausted either with feelings of regret over things I didn't get done or with feelings of anxiety thinking about all that needed to be done the next day or in the days to come.

This, my friends, is no way to live.

And while I do need to rethink my days, plan better, and get up earlier, what I need most is an overhaul in my heart.

I know we moms need to have a break. I know that we need help around the house or with the kids sometimes. We all need time to relax and get refreshed.

But motherhood is our job. A 24 hour job. A job we will (literally) have for the rest of our lives.

And it's a joy. A privilege. A blessing.

And one I often take for granted.

God has been moving quite a bit in my life lately...and merging all sorts of things together.

He's really cool that way.

I've been convicted over my sin of pride and my desire for comfort as I've been studying Isaiah at Bible Study Fellowship.

God has brought to mind some habitual sins that needed to be dealt with in Beth Moore's Breaking Free study.

And in One with a Shepherd, a book I'm reading with the other pastor's wives, I'm convicted by Mary Moffat, a pioneer missionary to South Africa, who, after wrestling with all she had given up at home to live halfway around the world serving in a mission station, said, "If I may be a hewer of wood and a drawer of water in the temple of my God, am I not still blessed and privileged?"

My daily work is hard. Actually, never ending.

But I should not be spending my days complaining about it. I should not be demanding some time away from my husband and children. I should not be throwing pity parties for myself in the company of other moms.

Everything I do is an act of worship to my King.

Every dish I wash...

shirt I fold...

cloth diaper I scrub...

poopy bottom I wipe...

time out or spanking I give...

spit up spot I clean...

song I sing...

kiss I give...

Memory game I play...

story I tell...

meal I cook...

tickle I give...

floor I sweep...

errand I run...

shoe I tie...

train track I build...

toy I put away...

child I tuck in at night...

Everything I do is an act of worship.

I know that what I do is not meaningless...well, except for alphabetizing my spice cabinet...which is certainly not important to some people but quite efficient nonetheless...

ahem...

God sees everything, and my work on behalf of my husband, family and home do not go unnoticed.

And, in light of all He has done for me...

I think it's quite reasonable.