Snorting and Snoring

Most of you don't know that I have two little boys. Yes, I do. Never mind that one is six months older than me and the other weighs about sixteen pounds and is covered with fur. These are the two little boys that live at my house.

Bedtime at our house is not much unlike bedtime with a house full of kids. There are snacks to be had and that one last drink of water. There's all kinds of putzing around, some chatting - anything to delay the inevitable lights out. Because the older one makes these a priority, the little one has decided to follow suit. Go figure.

But tonight, the little one (and yes, we're the kind of people that gasp! let our dog sleep with us!) really went to town. He's picked up this strange habit of hiding his Milkbone biscuit snacks until later. Do you know how annoying it is to step on one of those in the middle of the night?

Well, tonight he decided he must have that snack before he could go to bed. Only problem is I had picked it up earlier and placed it safely on the dresser, where bare feet do not tread! The older boy is on his way to la-la land, having embedded ear plugs into his ears. Good thing because the noises the little guy made looking for that treat were amazing. Um, kind of like a hyperventilating pig, snorting and nosing all over - "where'd I put that thing!" When he gets something in his mind, he cannot be distracted.

Finally, I just got up and gave him the darn thing. I mean, what's worse - the snuffling noises or the crunching? After the crunching was over, the snuffling continued until every last little crumb was gone. Then we needed a big noisy drink of water, followed by a few proud belches. At last - he's ready for bed. It's about time. He plops himself down between us with this oh so shameful look, as if he's eaten the cookies left out for Santa or something! Then we needed belly rubs and assurances that he's the best little boy in the world. Finally, he made his way towards our pillows, indicating he's ready to crawl under the covers, and he kind of collapsed by my feet.

He was promptly sawing logs within two minutes, soon joined by the other little boy. And I'm out here on the couch, typing this post! What does that tell you!

More Thoughts on Listening

Just the other day I realized that I tend to submerse myself in that which I feel strongly about, to the exclusion of that with which I disagree. Now I believe there's value in feeding my mind and soul with good things, but this realization made me pause and think - am I as open-minded as I think I am? Can I, for instance, read a book by an author, even and perhaps especially, a Christian author about whom I might have some misgivings? Can I be open to someone's very different political opinions . . . instead of pulling the "I don't like conflict card" and tuning them out? Can I listen to others and learn from them or perhaps at least learn what makes them tick, and value them as a person, no matter what their views or opinions might be?

And then I read this quote on my Starbucks cup this morning:

"You can learn a lot more from listening than you can from talking. Find someone with whom you don't agree in the slightest and ask them to explain themselves at length. Then take a seat, shut your mouth, and don't argue back. It's physically impossible to listen with your mouth open." John Moe

Just something I'm thinking about today.

Falling Leaves

After church last week, I headed for the nearby trail, hoping to get at least one more walk in before the leaves are all gone. A question lingered in my mind after the message at church: "How bad do you want it? How deep is your desire to grow?" A few thoughts came to mind as I walked along, picking up leaves that appealed to me.

Abandon. That's how the leaves fall. They just let go. Am I willing to let go? and what do I need to let go of?

Face down. See that oak leaf on top there? It's face down. All the oak leaves for some reason seemed to land in this face down position. Am I willing to be face down before God? Hmm. I've had a CD called Facedown on my Amazon.com list for some time now; perhaps it's time to go ahead and spring for it (absolutely no pun intended!)

I've always been fascinated by the whole leaf-changing thing, from the time the first blush of fall appears in the multi-colored patchwork of treed hillsides to when the last leaf relinquishes its clinging grip on the the mother tree. When I was a kid, I took great pleasure in decorating our front window for fall, with leaves I'd gathered from our yard. Then I went through the whole pressing leaves stage . . . for what?

I started to do so with the pile in the picture above and then I realized, no . . . there will be more leaves next year. I let them decorate my buffet for the last week, in their natural brilliant state. Now they look rather different, kind of curled up and colors fading. I'll probably toss them in the next day or so.

I'm reminded when I look at these leaves that change is a process. It's not overnight. We may get a hint of it first, if we're paying attention to the stirrings of our heart. We may experience a feeling of discontent or struggle, all before we realize God is doing something in our lives. And then, like the fall foilage at its peak, we begin to embrace the changes, secure in the knowledge that God is at work. And then we move into acceptance, and we are changed. I'm oh so glad I don't wake up one September morning and find the leaves changed overnight. And I'm just as thankful that God's work in our lives is a gentle process.