Wasting our lives and glorifying God

Wasting our lives and glorifying God
Notice God's unutterable waste of saints, according to the judgment of the world. God plants His saints in the most useless places. We say - God intends me to be here because I am so useful. Jesus never estimated His life along the line of the greatest use. God puts His saints where they will glorify Him, and we are no judges at all of where that is. ~Oswald Chambers, My Utmost For His Highest, August 10

Saturday, January 21, 2012

Mother of Sons

So, I was doing the laundry and checking the pockets.  I suppose everyone does this, although, I have known people who don't.  To skip the step of checking pockets would be absolutely disastrous at our house.  You just never know what you will find.

So, I was doing the laundry and checking pockets.  And I found a treasure-trove of classic boyhood.

A handful of rubber bands.

Lose change.

Some crayons.

A little jar with dead bugs in it.

Nerf bullets.

String.  Lots of string.

Shells from our last trip to the beach.

Favorite rocks.

I shook my head in disbelief of all the "junk" little boys tote around.  I told my friend and she said, "I find that sort of endearing."  Indeed?

I guess it is.

I love being the mother of five sons.  I have to get to sit through Kung Fu demonstrations and Little League games.  I get to wipe the floor around the toilet with disinfectant at least once a day.  I get to pick up their smelly socks and trip step over all sorts of sports equipment and spy gear in the hall.

Boys build forts and climb trees and fall out of said forts and trees.  One of them always has a black eye or fat lip and of the ten knees represented at least half of them are scraped.

They devour sandwiches like something from a competitive eating contest.  And I'm thinking I should buy some stock in cold cereal before they hit their teen years.  It may be a sound investment.

Sometimes one of the bigger ones will still sneak into our bed at night.  Which is also so endearing.  Except he sleeps like a trout.

My boys can do amazing things that my girls cannot (or perhaps will not--thank the good Lord above) do, such as burp the alphabet, make farting noises with their armpits, and tell simply hilarious (you can sense the sarcasm, right?) jokes about all manner of bodily functions.

I love being the mother of five sons.  I have to get to teach them to be gentlemen.  To stand up when a lady enters the room.  To hold open the door for me and lift heavy things.  To go out in the rain to fetch something from the garage so I can stay dry and warm.  To comfort the girls (and me!) when we see a scary bug or a slithery creature.  Even the four year old is a professional bug killer and lizard catcher.

And when one of them offers me his arm when walking into church, my heart just melts.

Lest you think them just raw testosterone, they are so kind.  Really kind.  They love to serve--especially their sisters.  The other day I had two of Meg's little friends over here for the weekend--little girls we consider sisters.  The girls had a full-blown high tea in the living room, served on real China, with real tea, with real linens.  All staged and served by the boys who willingly dressed up in their dress clothes and neckties with white towels draped over their arms.

As long as I have sons, chivalry is not dead.

I love being surrounded by their strength.  Physical strength, yes, but more so the strength of their spirits.  When I see my little army of men I know I will always be well-cared for.

Sometimes when I look at them I get little glimpses of what they will be like as full-grown men and I smile.  Compassionate, creative, strong, leaders.  Someday, I pray that there are five lovely young women who will appreciate all I have taught them and all that they are.  I also pray that these lovely women are not put off by the smelly socks or jokes about breaking wind.  From all the evidence I've seen, I don't think boys outgrow that.

And I hope when they are the men of their own houses, that they reserve a little corner--a tiny room somewhere with a window, a bookshelf and a rocking chair--for their old parents, especially their mother.  And I would be tickled-pink if they served me tea in their dress clothes with a towel over their arms.


Sheri said...

Precious. I love my sons. I originally wanted 6, but 2 is great. And I enjoy the other little boys I have in my life here in TN.

Karen Joy said...

Love this. So perfect.

I have a basket on the shelf above my washing machine. The deal is, if any money is left in pockets, I get to keep it. Everything else, minus trash, goes into the basket. It has Legos, rocks, string, Nerf darts, screws, small bits of interesting-but-broken things that really should be trash, but I know the son would be heartbroken if I threw it out. :)

Now that my boys are 14, 12, and 10, and I am really, really loving being the mother of boys. It was fun-but-dirty-and-loud when they were younger, but there's now a special joy and tenderness, especially towards me, and it makes me so happy, so blessed. It's my 14yo who tells me randomly, "I love you, Mom" more than anyone else. And they are SO HELPFUL, especially the oldest two.

I can't see them quite serving their two sisters in a tea party, though. I'll have to read them this post as inspiration. :D

Alice said...

I love this post! This line is my favourite:

"of the ten knees represented at least half of them are scraped."

lol! I can so relate! ;)

I have five sons. I wish I had a daughter or two so that it would help me to teach them about how to treat girls/ladies. My number 6 that I'm carrying turns out to be my 6th son! :) I love having sons, but I really have no idea what I am doing when it comes to raising them. I'm a girl! I am not sure how to learn - any tips?! Apparently it is not coming naturally to me. :S

Tina said...

A while back I was in church observing a young man caught up in worship and wishing he were younger or my daughter older. I'd like a young man like that for her. And just that quickly the Holy Spirit whispered to me a challenge. I have given you 4 boys...what are you doing to raise them to love Me?

It is a unique job to raise boys. Thank you for this reminder and another vision for what that could look like!

Gombojav Tribe said...

Sheri, you've been a great influence on my kids. I think the Lord has multiplied your children all over the world.

Karen, we also have the rule that if I find money, I keep it! :-) Can't wait until my boys are as old as your boys. I want to see what they are like. :-)

Alice, I really think that the best way to teach your sons to be men is to be a woman. Your gentleness and compassion and femininity, will call on their strength and draw out their masculinity naturally. Even when my boys were very little I started complimenting their strength and their courage. I started calling on them to help me with heavy things or with bugs. True, I could have certainly done it better without a four year old "helping" but I was calling on his inner self to serve his mother. And now my oldest is only nine, but so responsible and strong. I never carry my own diaper bag if he is around. I never have to move the furniture or deal with the dog. He does it, because he likes to take care of his mother and sister.

Tina, that's so good. The Holy Spirit sure knows how to hand our requests back to us sometimes and ask us what we are doing about it! THANK YOU for sharing!

Lady Dorothy said...


I do have twelve of the best grandsons ever! Thank you for training these five! I adore them!

Mrs. Tuna said...

I have a girl so thanks for raising good boys.

Gombojav Tribe said...

You're very welcome, Mrs. Tuna. :-)

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