God uses trials in my life to cultivate in me a posture of dependence.

My children and I have decided to follow a Catholic tradition by observing Lent this year. Briefly, I will say I have given up eating out (which, sadly, is actually quite a sacrifice for me), Lilly has given up using the computer for entertainment purposes, Kate has given up whining, grumping, fighting and saying 'no', Sam has given up french fries, Sophie has given up spasketti from Ari's, and I think Molly has given up fish sandwiches from McDonald's.

You may notice a theme centered around my habit of frequent eating out. And yes, we consider MickeyD's eating out. It's been nearly a week, and I am proud to report I have not eaten out yet, and even the kids who haven't officially given it up (read that: Lilly and Kate), politely decline the opportunity to buy a snack or meal while out and about. I have extended my intent to include purchasing prepared meals, so I've been making lunch everyday for the kids, too. This morning, Sophie and I have a doctor's appointment, and I will be packing a lunch for that.

If you are the type to take your lunch with you to work everyday, or cook supper every night, you may think this is no big whoop. Suffice to say my kids think I have lost my mind. And I guess that's what Lent is all about after all... learning to live without something you really thought you needed in the first place.

You know I love my children. Until I had children, I didn't realize I had such a capacity for love. I mean, I've always loved kids, but my own children..! Oh, the amazing, profound intensity of it!

This love feels so blinding that sometimes I have to stop and ask myself if these little people might be the proverbial "face only a mother could love." Because, you know, people everywhere tell me how beautiful my children are. (I can tell you this without shame, because I know their looks really have nothing to do with me, in the sense that other than donating several genes, I didn't have anything to do with the way they look. Their looks are definitely out of my control.) Of course, I'm the mother, so I believe they are the most beautiful of God's creations. But I wonder if people give compliments just to be polite, or if, in general, people think babies and kids are cute so they make those sorts of comments.

Mind you, I'm not fishing for compliments, here. This is just something that pops into my head from time to time, particularly when I'm in line at Wal-Mart and observe one stranger compliment another stranger's average-looking baby. (I never said I was nice all the time!) I stand there and think, 'hm, if she thinks that kid is cute, which it obviously isn't, then why is she saying that?!' Which leads me to wonder if this same lady in line would have the same compliments for my kids, which leads me to think maybe my own kids are just average kids, after all.

Which part of me really hopes is true, because I don't need all kinds of headaches and worries when it comes time for dating! Although, in my experience, plain, average, and ugly people do end up on dates. I consider myself to be fairly average in the looks department, and I even ended up married! Which says a lot for personality, I guess.

So in the end, I'm hoping to influence in some positive way, my children's behavior, attitude, personality... let's just call it social skills. And, not to brag (OK, to brag a little bit), I do get a lot of compliments from strangers on my children's manners. I teach them to have actual conversation with adults, I demonstrate and practice phone skills with them, we go over table manners regularly and consistently. We go beyond the 'please' and 'thank you', to shaking hands properly, making eye contact, answering adults' questions, and even something as simple as smiling.

Recently, yet another mother asked if she could send her child to my house to learn some manners. The kids and I are currently planning an official "Bourget Bootcamp" website. They have lots of ideas for video instruction (some of which may get me hauled off by the Department for Child Welfare) and are eager to demonstrate for other children and parents how we go about the teaching/learning process here at Chez Bourget. I think they want other kids to know it's possible to be mature and still be a kid (although maybe they're just eager to have me hauled off).

At any rate, I do love my kids, inside and out. And honestly, I know they are some good lookin' people.

Because my friends read this, and many of you know each other, I'll change your names at my discretion (to protect the innocent) when recounting tales of our adventures together. Today I will write about Jane (named changed to protect her innocence) (well, I mean...) (ummm)... anyway.

In a recent email, Jane was telling me about her everyday stress, and how she took a moment to think about God and how small she is in the grand scheme of things, and how insignificant her worries and problems really are. Well, that may be all well and good for her, because she told me it helped to calm her down a little, but I immediately thought how contrary that is to my own thinking.

Naturally, I gave her a piece of my mind. And now you get to read all about it.


When I think of God, and my worries, and how much there is going on in the universe, I am amazed that HE cares about me and my worries. The Bible says it, and I believe it.

American Standard Version
1 Peter 5:7 casting all your anxiety upon him, because he careth for you.

Psalm 55:22 Cast your burden upon the LORD and He will sustain you; He will never allow the righteous to be shaken.

It doesn't say that our worries or cares are insignificant, just that God knows we have them, and knows we'd love to be rid of them, and wants to bear the burden for us. Isn't it nice knowing we don't have to carry all that junk around? Knowing all this gets me through the grieving process, day by day. It gets me through my day by day, period.


I love when I can think of some verse I heard somewhere, even if I can't think specifically what it was. In this case, I remembered a sort of phrase ("cast all your cares upon Him...") and Googled it. Immediately I was staring at a list of probably matches. One thing led to another, and soon I was learning a favorite verse all over again. I really appreciate the internet availability of verses and sermons... it's a quick and easy solution for those of us who don't know the Bible inside and out.

Also, if you're trying to encourage a friend, she can be as impressed with your biblical knowledge as Jane was with me and mine. Of course, if Jane's reading this, now she knows my secret. But only if she can figure out my complicated witness-protection identity replacement.

I am now officially in recovery from Winter Break. My kids were home for ten days. Give me a minute to catch my breath.

This morning I took my girls to church, while Scott languished in bed with a migraine. Sam thought he better stay home and take care of Dad... which I understand he did an excellent job of, even though he spent the better part of the day at the computer (uninterrupted by envious sisters wanting their fair share of computer time). We enjoyed a relatively peaceful ride in Scott's car (such a nice change from the usual minibus circus that usually gets us places en masse).

I'm determined the reason the parking lot was so full (as were the seats when we got inside the church) was directly correlated to the fact we were running late today. If we had been running slightly ahead of schedule (as we actually do on the mornings we have nursery duty), the lot would have remained half-empty all day, and good seats would have been more than amply available. Whatever. Suffice to say, we had to drive around the lot looking for a parking space, then in the sanctuary we had to climb over people in the second row, and share seats with the little girls because there weren't enough to go around. Plus, we missed most of the songs (I didn't realize we were THAT far behind schedule!.. the clock must be different in Scott's car than in my van.)

For any of you that know Pastor Roger, you probably understand what I mean when I say he was in rare form today. For those of you that haven't had the pleasure of hearing him preach, believe me when I say there is a good chance he has multiple-personality disorder on top of his OCD and ADHD. At any rate, he was distracting himself with his little side comments, and generally amusing himself... and most of the attendants... with entertaining tangents. He is starting a series on the life of Jesus, in an attempt to renew our First Love with Christ.

Warning: I may start to sound a little preachy here. But really, I just want to share some of my own reflections.

In a powerfully simple illustration, Pastor told of the "woman of questionable repute" who enterred the house of the Pharisee where Jesus was a dinner guest. She threw all social convention to the wind, and, overcome with passionate understanding for who Christ was, she wept continually as she cleaned the feet of Jesus with her tears and her own hair. To the Pharisee, this was the same as if a dog enterred his house and started licking the feet of Jesus. He was mortified, and thought to himself that if Jesus was truly a prophet, he would know this woman's reputation.

Of course, Jesus did know who this woman was, and gave his own illustration to the Pharisee:
Two men owed another man some money. One owed 50 denarii, and the other owed 100. the man forgave both debts. Which debtor was more grateful?

Pastor went on to explain the significance of this parable, but I kind of went off in my own thoughts, and considered this very strong point. Which person is going to most appreciate forgiveness?... the one who has lived such an ideal, to-the-law life, or the one who has struggled and sinned, and then found forgiveness and love and life in Christ? I considered those people who go through life in miserable, condemnable sin... how can God forgive them? Murderers? Rapists? Theives? It doesn't seem fair that I have worked hard to live an upright, moral life, and may actually end up in Heaven with the likes of these.

But who am I to decide how good is good enough? Or how bad is too bad? Is my own sin worth forgiving? Is upright living sufficient to earn me a place in heaven? Thank God I do not have to decide. I am not the judge. And now I see that those who struggle through this earthly life with sin and depravity will be so much more grateful for God's divine forgiveness and grace and mercy.

I pray that when I encounter someone who makes me think how "good" I am, I will try seeing them through God's eyes, and love them, and know there is eternal hope. Even for them. Perhaps moreso for them. And I will try to imagine how grateful they will be to discover God's grace for themselves.

We are coming up on a discussion of my own encounters with God's grace and mercy. It is the reason I ever considered starting a blog of my own in the first place. I feel the need to get down in print things I have experienced and learned over the past couple of years. This may be the part where you cry. But like the woman at Jesus' feet, they likey will be tears of mixed emotions--- ranging from sadness and regret to great joy and passionate appreciation for who Christ is and what He can do in the lives of those who merely ask to be used.

If you glimpse my Jesus, and realize that First Love, I will have exceeded my hopes for the success of this blog.

Any comments?

You encouraged me to blog. Now where's the feedback? I mean, I know I'm sporadic, at best, but I need to know if what's here is working for you?

Just so you know, too, I am up off my deathbed, and have been busy painting the newly-refinished basement. Hoping to get the kids down there with all (and I mean all...) their stuff. Maybe someday I'll take ownership of at least the first floor of this beautiful big house o' mine.