Monday 25 February 2013

When Your Hair Needs Taming....

My hair has a mind of it's own. I'm sure of this. God knew I was going to be a low maintenance girl because he designed me, however, I'm also pretty sure God has a sense of humor, and so decided to give me unruly hair to match my personality some days. Now most days this doesn't bother me, but every once in a while I want to beat my hair into submission. Last Tuesday was one of those days. Thursday I got it cut. This got me thinking about life, attitudes, and obedience.

A little background here. When my hair grows out all crazy like, it resembles a Christmas tree. Not a nice groomed Fir Christmas tree, but the kind that my boys used to like to find when we lived in Sointula. The basic shape of a Christmas tree, but with oodles of "spunk and character" we'll call it. This is my hair.

So last Tuesday when my hair disobeyed to the point that it ended up, yet again, in braids, under a touque, I knew it was time to deal with it. Enter the hair appointment. Time to tame the beast. After 45 minutes of cutting, drying, smoothing, and straightening, my hair had submitted itself to the inevitable. It was conquered. Or so I thought.

The next day, a friend wanted to see my hair before I washed it, and so she stopped over quickly to see. She loved it and was really impressed. I then looked at her hesitantly, knowing we both had a function to be at that evening, and asked;

"Well, should I wash it and see what happens?"

She looked at me, smiled, and responded with;

"Yes! We need to know if it's the cut or the product she used." 

Me; "If it's the product should we go halfers?"

Her; "I'll bring the Tupperware!"

To this we laughed, she left, and I jumped into the shower and washed away any evidence that I had a professional style my hair. When I was out and towel drying my hair I looked in the mirror and actually said out loud;

"Well, here goes nuthin'!"

And this is where it hit me. How often must God look at the unruly Ellerie and realize that some stuff in my life needs to be cut off, (like dry un-healthy hair) re-shaped, (to bring back life and vitality) smoothed, (to calm down) and molded into obedience. My hair needs maintenance and so does my life. It's not easy, and some stuff needs to be permanently cut out, but as I watched my hair dry to it's natural wavy, slightly out of control self, I realized that it looked healthy and full of life. Maybe even pretty. Could my heart be the same way?

Yes, I think so. I need to allow my heart to embrace my hair and my God designed self. Why do I try to make my hair do something it wasn't made to do? Why do I expect myself to be someone I was not designed to be? Why do I expect my hair to be thinner and straight, when God wanted it thicker and with character? God designed my hair and my personality to match. Spunky and full of life. I need to stop fighting both. However, accepting who I naturally am, and what my God given talents naturally are, and what my hair naturally wants to do, doesn't mean I'm free to be unruly. Daily care, taming, and discipline need to be regular. Time with God should be daily.

And like the hair dresser said;

"Regular maintenance is the key."












 



Tuesday 19 February 2013

How Do You Know When Your Son Becomes a Man..

This is a question that bothers me some days.....How am I going to know when my sons have turned into men? Now, we joke around and refer to them as the Koskela MENN already because that is what all their initials spell. BUT, I don't know if it's an over night thing or a gradual building. I know I am really looking forward to that day when their Dad looks at them and says.."You are a good man.", but is that when it happens?

As my boys are growing up and each reaching the age of 13, we decided to not call them teenagers. To me there is a stereotype that goes with that. We decided to initiate them into Young Manhood at 13 and bless them with a party to celebrate the fact that they were officially a man-in-training. With this came bigger blessings and privileges, but also more responsibility. So far, the 2 older boys have risen to the occasion and are enjoying it.

An interesting thing occurred to me though the other day in my laundry room. (Sometimes I think laundry is a spiritual thing for me!) I was sorting through my oldest boys laundry bin and I realized he smelled like a man. Now not in an "Ewww, gross! Go have a shower!" kind of way, but in a "Wow! My son smells like a man!" kind of way. I stood there and held his shirt up to my nose and just sniffed. He smelled like my wonderful husband. I felt like I was being hugged. It was an incredibly comforting mix of laundry soap, deodorant, his body odour, firewood, and fresh air. As I sat there, my chest tightened with the knowledge that he didn't smell like Goat's Milk Soap, dirt, peanut butter, grass stains, and little boy sweat anymore. Another step closer to becoming a full grown man.

This for me was huge. Over the last few years, he has been able to keep up with his Dad splitting firewood, he changes the water jug with ease, packs 4 jugs of milk at a time, and is constantly looking at me with sincere loving eyes and saying.. "I got this, Mom." This, I love. I can look at him now and see the man he is becoming, the husband he has the potential to become, and even some traits that would make a really great Dad.

In the end, I guess we will just know when he has become a man. But for now, I am going to keep on enjoying my gentle giant who still, every once in a while, slips up and calls me Mommy.




Monday 11 February 2013

The Love Language of Laundry

I bet that sounds like a weird title, but bear with me here. I enjoy doing my boy's and my hubby's laundry. I truly do. You know what I find odd though?

People tell me that I shouldn't.

I had this thought run through my head the other day as I was up in one of the boys rooms grabbing his laundry and tidying up a bit. I was happy. I had music playing, it was a beautiful morning, and I was about to start some laundry and a batch of bread for my family. I was content with the healthy homemade lunches my boys and my Mom took to school, we had eaten a nice breakfast, and life felt pretty good. Then the inner voice started.

"What are you doing? Why are YOU tidying his room and grabbing his laundry? Shouldn't you make him do this? All you're doing is catering to him! He should be washing his own laundry and cleaning his own room! You are spoiling them."

Funny thing was, the voice was wrong. It was part of how I was loving him.

Since my husband is gone 15 days at a time, and I have a bad back, our boys look after the firewood, garbage, recycling, snow shovelling, and most of the lawn mowing. (The lawn mowing is another thing I LOVE to do!) They also will vacume, clean their own bathroom, help with the dishes, and will happily, and for the most part with a servant heart, help with whatever I ask. They are not perfect, but for most of the time, they are reliable. Which leads me back to the inner voice.

So many times now, we hear as Moms, that we need to do this, or teach that, or you're wrecking them by..... But how much is lost in the lack of doing it out of love? One of the ways I love my boys is by doing their laundry. It's a love language for me, and I know they receive it as such.

That day, when my son arrived home from school, he played for a bit and then went upstairs. A few minutes later, he came down and into the kitchen, wrapped his arms around my waist, looked up at me and said;

"Thanks Mom for taking the time to tidy my room and wash my clothes today. I really like it."

Guilt gone! I didn't wreck him that day. I filled his love tank a bit.... :)



Monday 4 February 2013

Discouragement

It never ceases to amaze me how fast discouragement can set it. I can be truckin' along just fine and then WHAM! Discouragement. I need to figure out how to not let it get a hold of me. In my quest to simplify my life, and get back to the basics of what really matters, sometimes I can feel overwhelmed by little set backs or decisions as to what to weed out.
Over the weekend I struggled with the realization that my younger 3 boys had displayed a rudeness to one of the EA's at their school, when she asked a group of them to stop playing a game she felt was dangerous. I know it was dealt with because my Mom is the Vice-Principal and a teacher there, but it still really bothered me that they would display a behavior like that and it embarrassed me. Even though a stern talking to and an apology could fix it, it left me feeling deflated. This morning as the busyness of the morning took over, I had to really watch that I had forgiven and moved on, not bringing it up at the worst possible time.
However, today as I have the quietness of the house to myself, I will think on good thoughts, and listen to good music, as I bake a couple loaves of bread, wash, dry and fold 3 loads of laundry, and tackle an ironing pile that has plagued me for over two months. I know once I have completed my list, I will have a different perpsective on my day, and will have a visual reminder of accomplishment. Now, what to make for supper......

Saturday 2 February 2013

You Have to Start Somewhere....

Well, I have finally talked myself into starting to write. It has taken me a year and a half of staring at a blank blog site to work up the courage to go for it. As a Mom, I coach my boys to "find the courage" to try something new, or carry on with something hard. So, here I am. Finding the courage. The title of this blog has been on my heart for years. Whether it's because simplicity is something I strive for, or I want to share what I've learnt, I'm not sure. All I know is that my heart has not allowed me to ignore this desire.
I must admit though, I feel totally inadequate to write on a blog called Simplicity's Call, because in areas of my life, I struggle with clutter and a busy schedule. I'm a mother of 4 wonderful boys who range in age from 15 down to 9, and a wife to a fabulous man (Jody) who happens to work away from home. Even though Jody's job allows me to have the privilege of being a stay at home Mom, he is away for 14 days and then home for 14. So, I parent and run the home on my own for half the year. Sometimes, I struggle to keep up.
This brings me full circle to the reason for the blog. It is a place for me to hold myself accountable on the tough days, and share the successes on the good days. Welcome to my heart!