As I write out the routine, it’s easy to see what’s missing, or rather, Who is missing. Where is the time spent with the Father, seeking His guidance in the day’s activities? He knows what challenges will arise, and He knows how to handle them. A bad attitude, a sick puppy, a scraped knee – He’ll give us the peace and wisdom to deal with every situation if we just seek Him first.

How do we give the Lord first place in our lives? By deciding to do it. Make an appointment with Him every day and keep it just as you would an important visit to the doctor. Use that time to pray and read the Word and to get to know Him better. He loves us so much and wants to be involved in every aspect of our lives to give us direction, wisdom, and hope. How can we afford to do any less than keep Him first?

This fall, I’ve had to deal with a lot of anger issues with my son now ten years old. During one recent difficult conversation, he was angry about something and declared that he was going to run away. Tired and frustrated, I wanted to say, “Go ahead. Run away.” Although this would have been a natural response, I decided to react against my feelings, instead saying like the mother bunny, “I’ll come after you.”

“You won’t find me,” he said, still angry.

“I’ll find you,” I said.

“I’ll hide in the woods,” he replied.

“I’ll call the FBI,” I said.

“They won’t find me.”

“They’ll find you,” I answered. “And I’ll be there with them.”

Suddenly, his countenance changed. His face relaxed and his anger disappeared. He seemed relieved, relieved to know that I wouldn’t let him go, that I would search and search until I got him back, relieved to know that I valued him so much I would do whatever it took to find him. He felt safe and secure in the knowledge that he was precious and worthwhile to me. While his reaction surprised me, it shouldn’t have. After all, isn’t that the same kind of love that first brought us to Jesus?

“He maketh the barren woman to keep house, and to be a joyful mother of children. Praise ye the Lord.” Ps. 113:9 KJV

I keep up fairly well with the news, and I’ve heard of many celebrities passing away over the years. Yet none has ever saddened me as the death of Steve Irwin, the Crocodile Hunter. We don’t have cable or satellite, so I didn’t watch his show often, but the times I have seen it, or seen Steve on the late shows or in his movie, I was always struck by the enthusiasm and joy he expressed in whatever he was doing. Steve Irwin was a man full of the excitement of living – a man who seemed to love life itself. I heard that a spokesman made the comment that he loved his job, he loved the animals, but most of all, he loved being a dad. I believe it.

And then I wonder…would people believe that about me? When they see me with my children — in the store, the library, a park, a restaurant, at home — would they believe that I love being a mom? Do the words and the tone I use with my children convey to the world that I enjoy what I do? Or, more importantly, does it express to my family that I love spending my time with them? Does my son realize that I’m impressed with his magic tricks; do my daughters know that their drawings are great works of art; do they know that even the smallest accomplishment is a reason to celebrate? If they didn’t know it before, they will now. Thank you, Steve.

After one very trying visit, where my five-year-old kept teasing my two-year-old and making him holler, and the older children kept looking at me saying, “When can we go?”, it finally struck me. My attitude and hence my children’s attitudes towards these visits were wrong. Our approach shouldn’t have been “We are doing this good thing for you, Mrs. McCall,” but rather “Mrs. McCall, it is a privilege to spend time with you. You have so much to share with us, and we are so blessed to have you in our lives.”

What if that is how we treated everyone we met, even the cashier in the store? What if we approached them as “It is an honor to do business with you, and I’m so glad I picked your check-out line”? What if, instead of looking annoyed or exasperated, we gave them a smile and wished them a nice day? What if we honored each member of our family, and then taught our children to do the same?

Now, if there’s anything I want my children to learn from our weekly visits to the nursing home, it’s that it’s an honor to know Mrs. McCall. Our visits are going much better now.

“Yes, Lord, I’m glad for this day. I’m glad I can get so many things done today, ” I pray as I drive the children to the library. Three stops with four children in less than an hour. I smile. I’m making good time.

As a “Type A” personality, I tend to focus on the tasks I have to do with completion in mind. I enjoy marking lines through the items on my to-do list, the more the better. I have projects going in every direction and others I want to start.

I believe God wants us to be hard-working, productive people, but He also wants us step back and take time to praise Him for the moment, to enjoy the time we are in, to “enjoy the journey.” I read those words again not long ago and thought, How can I enjoy the journey when I’ve got so much to do?

Sure, the lists are still there, yet instead of focusing on the end result, we need to enjoy the process, including the process of raising our children. Do we have children just to say we got them successfully through toddlerhood, childhood, and adolescence? Or do we have children to hold them, love them, laugh with them, cry with them, experience life with them? Instead of becoming frustrated when the two-year-old pours himself a bowl of cereal all over the floor, step back and smile and praise him for his efforts. Instead of yelling at siblings for arguing, take a breath and thank the Lord for the opportunity to teach them the Golden Rule. This is the day God has given us, this is the day we have with our children; let us remember to enjoy them!

It was a poorly organized Wal-Mart shopping trip. We had already picked up all of the groceries, including ice cream, and now here we were in the toy department, waiting on my seven-year-old daughter to pick out a toy. We had been waiting for at least twenty minutes.

“Cassie, hurry up,” I said, exasperated. “The ice cream is melting. Just pick something and let’s go.”

“I’m trying,” she replied. “I just can’t decided.”

“Then I’ll decide for you.”

“No, Mommy. Wait! I’ll pick something.”

I waited and waited, thinking about the ice cream melting in the cart. We still had the check-out to go through as well as a fifteen-minute ride home in a hot car.

Finally, I helped her pick out a coloring book. With all four children in tow, we hurried through the checkout, only to discover in the parking lot that the slinky my five-year-old had chosen wasn’t in the bag.

“Arrg!” I exclaimed, sounding a bit like a pirate. “We have to go back.”

I glanced over at the cart return, hoping the slinky was still in the basket. A couple walking to their car noticed me and said, “Someone else already took your cart.”

“I’m just so frustrated,” I told them. “We have this ice cream….and it’s melting…”

The couple nodded and walked on, but all I could think about was how ridiculous I sounded. The ice cream…I was letting a $2.00 box of ice cream ruin my day.

“Let the peace of God rule in your hearts….” Often when we read this promise in Scripture, we think about God’s peace during traumatic or difficult events: a terrible storm, an illness, a lost job, the death of a loved one. But God’s peace is available all the time, even for the small things can upset us. God’s peace can keep our hearts and minds when we are late for an appointment, when our children won’t stop arguing with each other, when one shoe is lost somewhere, and even at Wal-Mart when our ice cream is melting.

How do we find that peace? The Word says we are to LET the peace of God rule in our hearts. It is up to us to step back from the situation and give it over to Him. We are to CHOOSE the peace of God: seek Him in prayer, seek Him in the Scriptures, seek Him with thanksgiving.

“Thank You, Lord, for four precious children with whom I can share a box of melted ice cream. Thank you, Father, for Your peace.”

My nine-year-old stood at the door, leaving it wide open. His pet bird was out of the cage, so I told him to shut it quickly before the cat came in or the bird took off. But different thoughts were swirling through his mind.

“Sister quit the game we were playing,” he informed me.

“Close the door.”

“She left right in the middle of it,” he continued.

“Close the door now. The bird is out.” I could see the cat sneaking up the back porch.

“Now she won’t play with me.” He kept going on and on, and the door was still open. I was tired and aggravated, and I wasn’t about to let him keep ignoring me. I had had enough.

“Close the door!” I shouted out in anger. My son jumped back, closed the door, and retreated to the yard. Of course, I followed him out of the house, ranting on and on about how he should have done it the first time I asked him. The bird was out, and it could have been killed. Blah…blah…blah….

Somewhere in that lecture, I’m sure he tuned me out. If it were me, I would have tuned me out near the beginning. An effective discipline technique? I would say “no.”

I once heard someone say that if we were pulled over for speeding, and the police officer fussed at us and gave us a long lecture on the dangers of fast driving, would we speed again? Probably. I’ve never known an angry lecture that was effective in changing behavior for any length of time. What keeps us in check the next time we get in a car? A ticket that costs fifty dollars or more.

The consequences for our children’s disobedience should be equally effective. Instead of lecturing, I could have walked over after telling him the first time, closed the door myself, and gently held his chin and turned his head until we were looking eye to eye. In this way, I would have saved the birds and commanded his attention. I could have then explained the urgency of the situation to him until he acknowledged that he understood. Finally, I could have addressed his concerns about his sister.

What would have been the result? My son would have a real lesson in listening, and I would have a lesson in self-control. “He that is soon angry dealeth foolishly”… I’ll be wiser next time.