Following My Own Rules

Hmmmm.....so tonight I learned a valuable lesson- I am a very smart mom.  Who knew?

Probably has something to do with coming from a long line of smart moms and dads and having a fabulous husband to bounce ideas off of, but nevertheless, I learned tonight that I might have a tiny smidge of insight into parenting. I totally ROCK! :-)

Ok, I can't take all the credit...my husband helps too.

Today, I learned that I set some pretty awesome rules sometimes! You see, in our quest to be more structured in our evening routine and hopefully (in some round about logic) prevent the perpetual tardiness we experienced last school year, Charlie and I instituted a new rule in our home.

No computer, TV, or video games until 7 pm, and only after all school and extracurricular assignments are complete.  


I ain't gonna lie though...I was terrified when we called the family meeting to discuss the new rules.  I just knew the kids would whine and complain and we would have to fight EVERY night to keep the rule in place. And the beauty is WE HAVEN"T! For over a week now, they have accepted the rule and all that it entails as law and haven't bucked it once.

But in the interest of full disclosure and tying this allegory up nicely- I have to be honest. I haven't followed my own rule. Nope, I Facebook while I am waiting for dinner to cook and check and return email while the kids are doing homework. Or I did.  But God got a hold of me and I realized that I wasn't following my own rules.  I wasn't willing to lead from the front...OUCH!

So tonight I decided to discipline myself and unplug until 7 pm...And it turns out- I am a very smart mom.  I knew what I was doing when I set that rule in place! I sit here, at 9:30 pm with the dishes done, the living room cleaned, the downstairs vacuumed, lunches packed for tomorrow, dinner prepared, eaten around the dinner table and put away AND I ventured down the street to connect with a friend I haven't seen in a while....All before 7 PM.   I just gave myself back two hours of my day I had forgotten I had.  I totally rock!

What about you? What rules do you set for others, but don't follow yourself? 

Guest Post- Joy the Color of Fireflies

My sweet friend, Holley Gerth, who blogs her heart at Heart to Heart with Holley, has a way of making my heart sing, "Amen, Sister!" with her words.  I want to share some of them with you today! If they make yours sing too, won't you go leave her a comment on here or over at her bloggy home.

Joy the Color of Fireflies

The sky is inky blue, a swirl of dark and light. Day and night do a slow dance before the moon rises high above the trees. The music we can't hear beckons the fireflies from their hiding places. One by one they appear, little lights twinkling against the backdrop of an early summer evening.

I first caught fireflies as a girl of seven or so. Taking my brother and I to the porch, my grandmother handed us a mason jar. "Be gentle," I'm sure she told us.

Then she watched and smiled from the edge of the flowerbed in a wheelchair.(She had polio at age 29, younger than I am now.)

I don't know where these creatures live, what they do in the winter, why they come again...but I do know each one is like a bright and beautiful memory floating through the air.

And, because of this, I still catch those flickers of brightness even though childhood has long gone. I place them (gently, yes) into jars, water bottles, whatever I can find. When I have twenty or so I let them go and watch the homemade fireworks display.

Saturday I did this for the first time of the season. Our dear friends, Sean and Kim, were there. We sat on the patio and as the fireflies appeared, I begged my guests to go with me. Sean joined the chase while Mark and Kim watched from the patio at our crazy zig-zags across the yard.

In my firefly moments I feel more alive, happy, and closer to heaven than I do almost any other time all year. It's as if everything that's sweet, good, and right is made real in tiny flashes of light as I think of my Grandma and all she taught me of joy.

In the hospital after being told she would never walk again, her pastor said,"Frances, you can choose to let this make you bitter or better." She would tell me again and again with a twinkle in her eyes, "I chose better."

My Nana knew joy, like a firefly, flits about you. But if you are serious about it, you must pursue it. And she knew joy, like a firefly, often comes surrounded by darkness. Perhaps that is what makes it so brilliant and beautiful.

Yes, on the porch beneath a summer sky I still sense my grandmother's smile. And as the last lingering firefly disappears into the night I smile too...knowing I'm sure to find it (and joy) another summer evening or, when least expected, it will once more find me.

What's a little thing that brings you joy?