CaringKids Chore Cards

For years I've been wishing I could take my kids all over the world to see how different children lives are in other parts of the world.  One big reason was to build thankfulness in their own lives.  Raising grateful children in America is a difficult task. Obviously, flying a family of six all over the world is rather expensive, so in the meantime, I came up with these chore cards to help them see how blessed they truly are.
The chore cards give step by step instruction for completing certain chores around the house.  The back of the card has a story telling about a child in another part of the world.


Through these, my kids have begun to pray for children all around the world - and hopefully, will grow up to become not only responsible, hard working adults, but also people who have compassionate hearts to help the less fortunate.

This set of 13 (one blank) chore cards is made from glossy postcards and professionally printed.  Each set is only $10 with proceeds currently going towards the Jon and Carissa's adoption fund for two children from Uganda.  Click here to order or contact me at lynettecarpenter@yahoo.com.

Share this with your friends and if you would like to sell them in your place of business, please let me know!  Blessings!

Each chore card set includes:
Gather laundry
Clear the table
Clean the bathroom
Set the table
Clean the living room
Clean your bedroom
Trash duty
Empty the dishwasher
Sweep out vehicle
Sweep kitchen floor
Clean up entryway
Put laundry away
Blank

Signs of Life

Those who know me well learn quickly that I hate when my house is messy.  I mean, seriously hate it.  I am a control freak and not proud of it! 

Being a control freak who wants everything in its place - at all times - is not advantageous when you are also a mother of four busy children. Believe me, I’ve had to learn a lot about patience in the eleven years since my firstborn entered the world – and I’m still learning!

I’ve had days when I’ve stomped around my living room, carefully replacing throw pillows to their proper positions on the couch, “”Throw’ is not to be taken literally,” I mutter under my breath, the offending baseball players having already escaped to the diamond in the back yard. 

Try as I might, I learned quickly that a perfectly pristine home was not going to happen.  There was always laundry in the hamper, dirty dishes continued to appear out of nowhere and shoes often landed under tables and behind furniture. 

One day while despairing over these truths, God spoke to my heart, “These are signs of life, Lynette.”   

“What?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear this.  Cleanliness and organization bring peace and calm to my chaotic world and I didn’t want anyone, not even Almighty God to try to talk me out of something I thought I so desperately needed!  As I contemplated what God was saying to me though, I saw how true it was. 

Candy wrappers, dirty socks, backpacks and footballs are all signs of life in my home.  If they were gone, something would be terribly wrong!  A healthy garden has both plants and weeds, while a barren plot sits brown, windblown and lifeless.  As mothers we will always have weeds to chase out of our homes - the attitude we do it with is for us to decide. 

Does that mean we give up and let everything go?  Of course not!  There is balance – finding it is the challenge, and unfortunately there is no one-size-fits-all formula.   For myself, it’s been taking a deep breath and moving the kid’s books from the top ledge in the closet to a shelf they can actually reach (was I really that OCD?) and not freaking out every time the house gets trashed.

If God hadn’t spoken to me about the signs of life around me, I would have missed out on the fun games of Skip-Bo with Corey, or playing catch with Ty in the back yard.   I wouldn’t have gotten to enjoy those moments of closeness with Amy as we colored pictures together and I never would have seen the fight between the lion and the “hynena’s” with Kobe.

I still appreciate a candle burning on a clutter-free table.  I also continue to organize my days in a way that allows me time to keep a relatively clean home, but I’m learning to offer grace each time the children miss a couple of toys when cleaning up.  I’m trying harder to overlook the times the couch cushions get turned into a clubhouse or juice spills appear under the kitchen chairs. 

They are all signs of life and I wouldn’t trade those for anything! 

Golf Clubs and Ambulance Rides

As many of you know, a couple weeks ago we had some extra "excitement" around here.  For those who missed it, here it is!  WARNING: I did post a picture of Kobe's eye wound in here.. now ya know!  :)



Tim and I had invited several families over for supper that Friday night.  Have you ever had a hunch that you're getting ready for something that isn't going to happen?  I had that feeling all day, but gave little thought to it.  Believe it or not, I even had the thought cross my mind that one of my kids might need to get stitches that day -  I pushed that aside as an overactive, slightly morbid, imagination.

With the house clean, table set, peanut butter pies ready, potatoes ready to boil and the roasts reaching perfection in the oven, I decided to quickly get ready while the kids were playing outside.  Again the thought crossed my mind that one of my kids might get hurt. "Weirdo!" I berated myself for even allowing such a thought.  But just as I was finishing my shower, Tim calls in to me, "Hey, we're gonna have to go get Kobe some stitches." He said it so casually, I didn't take him serious for a second, but one look at Kobe's bloody face left no doubt that Tim was only trying to keep me from freaking out!

Apparently, Corey was practicing his golf swing and Kobe had gotten too close.  Just above his eye was a huge cut with all manner of things that belong inside, sticking outside.  Kobe just lay quietly on the floor while Tyler, Amy and Corey huddled around him.  I wish I had a picture of that scene.  It was so darling, it will forever be ingrained in  my memory.


Throwing my wet hair into a ponytail, we carried Kobe out the door and headed for the hospital.  Kobe remained quiet and calm during the drive there, but as we got closer, his eyes began to get heavier and heavier and I had a hard time getting him to respond to me.  Once there, the medical staff wasted no time in getting Kobe in for a CT scan ("no internal injuries") and then back into the room for his stitches.  Having held his big sister Amy through this procedure, I knew the pain he was about to go through and I wished I could trade places with him!  

After the six stitches were in place, the phone rang.  From the look on the doctors face, I assumed it was her teenage son calling and asking for money.  I was wrong, it was "someone" who had reviewed Kobe's CT scan and said there was, in fact, a hairline fracture to his frontal bone - as well as an indentation.  I was taken aback!  I really was.  Up to this point, I had my mental list of things to do at home still on overdrive.  I thought we were just running in for some stitches, some advice on caring for the wound and how to keep him calm overnight.  This news changed everything!

Before I knew it, we were told that Kobe would be need to be taken to Bronson Hospital - and "no, you can't take him - he'll need to go by ambulance".  We were also informed that Kobe would eventually need plastic surgery to repair the damage above his eye.  I wondered if the staff was surprised at how naive I was!  Kobe seemed fine to me, and I was caught off-guard by everything.  The nurses in the ER were very kind though and answered all my questions - mainly, "Am I not scared enough?" 

The swelling would eventually push his upper eyelashes down to about even with the tip of his nose.

Soon the EMT's came in, loaded Kobe up and away we went.  Kobe remembers the ambulance ride and loved that they drove fast and kept the sirens on.  

Strapped in for the ambulance ride

The EMT warned me that there would be "lots of people" meeting us at the door and not to worry.  He was right.  There were between 10 to 12 staff members who ushered us into a room with the word "Trauma" on the door.  I finally felt fear for the first time when the second person to greet me at the hospital was "Ray, I'm the chaplain here."  A wave of panic crashed over me in that moment.  Now, don't get me wrong.  I like chaplains.  I'm glad they're at hospitals.  I love what they stand for and Who they work for, but are you kidding me?  Is it so bad that you're sending a chaplain to me?  It was a moment I'll never forget.  I wanted nothing more than to grab my little boy and race out of that hospital.  

Beyond the chaplain, I saw doctors and nurses crowding around Kobe.  His little body way too tiny for the bed he was lying on.  Words were flying all over the room "four-year-old male patient... trauma to the head.... concussion... fracture...head wound... and I had to remind myself that this was my Kobe they were talking about.  It really was surreal.  

Slowly the excitement in the room dissipated and soon it was just Kobe, one doctor and myself.  Kobe began giggling as I played peek-a-boo with the teddy bear he had been given in the ambulance.  I felt calm again.

Kobe was kept in the PICU for observation that night and was released the next morning.  Through it all, he never complained of pain (except for the shots he got before getting stitched up).  He received no pain meds which astounded one nurse who finally gave him Tylonel (we decided it was to make her feel better! smile)   So many of our family and friends were praying for him and as Kobe lay there pain-free, we knew...  

Watching movies in the middle of the night!

It's true that people respond to pain in different ways, and yes, Kobe is pretty tough, but I watch his eye heal much quicker and much better than anticipated... and I know... 

I know why his one-hour appointment for the cognitive screen was concluded within fifteen minutes and a clean bill of mental health.

I know why the plastic surgeon we were referred to saw no problems with how the wound was healing.

I know why Kobe felt no pain.

God has been so good to us and I cannot thank Him enough for the health of each of my children!  We were able to come home on Saturday morning (where I nearly had a heart attack when I found Kobe just a few hours later in the kitchen trying to cut his stitches out with scissors).  Life is back to normal around here and Kobe continues to heal with no complaints about his eye... well, occasionally at bedtime his eye "really hurts".  Then it "hurts" so bad he even walks with a limp!    :)

I'll never forget our night in the hospital though.  It made me appreciate even more what Impact of Hope does for families with seriously ill children.  The experience we had as parents of an injured child was so minor compared to what many others go through, and my desire is to help make a difference in their lives.

My heart goes out to families everywhere who's daily lives are lived out in a hospital room.  I remind myself whenever I am tempted to complain about wiping down another disgusting toilet seat, picking up toys or attacking a mountain of laundry just how truly blessed I am.  Mundane normality is a blessing I'm sure many mothers wish they could have and I hope to never take it for granted.

Easter Sunday - 2 weeks after the accident

Rain

 I wrote this some time ago after watching some friends deal with the tragic loss of their son and brother.  So in memory of those who died too young...

Rain

It was raining when you died

And we were all torn up inside

Wishing that it was a lie

But there was nothing we could do.

You were young

Havin’ fun.

 But now your mama lost her son

And forever seems forever long

For a heart to keep on beating strong

When it’s been torn in two.

Now all I see is rain

And pain.

And your mama crying once again.

Your daddy stands

And stares

At your empty chair

Wishing that you would be sitting there

He’s trying to stay strong

But wondering where it all went wrong

And all I see is rain.

I stare up into the sky

I cannot help but ask God why

Cause you were way too young to die

Now life will never be the same.

If you were here today

I’m sure that you would say

That you’re sorry that you left this way

And you hope to see us some sweet day

But tonight

My tears fall with the rain

Cause all I see is rain

And pain.

And your mama crying once again.

Your daddy stands

And stares

At your empty chair

Wishing that you would be sitting there

He’s trying to stay strong

But wondering where it all went wrong

And all I see is rain.

Days go by

The years will pass

Like sand falls through an hour glass

And broken hearts can’t mend without a scar

I know someday I’ll smile again

I’ll take a walk in a summer rain

And look beyond the clouds

To where you are.

Special thanks to Kathy Yoder who put these words to music for me! 

Kathy, you are a very talented woman - I continue to envy your talent!


Update 12/22/14
In Loving Memory of Kody Yoder

Broken Pots

Having been raised by the hot-glue-gun-queen who saw something salvageable in every collectible she owned (no matter how many times my brothers broke them), I had taken a different route than my mother.  If it was damaged, I tossed it.  “Life’s too short to deal with broken junk” became my motto.  So when I was challenged at a women’s retreat to break a piece of pottery… then glue it back together… on purpose, I began to question just what kind of nutcases were running the show!

I was told it would be therapeutic.  The process of breaking a piece of clay would bring insight and introspective wisdom to my soul. (Can you hear my sarcasm?)  The plan was to aid with “healing deep hurts and buried grief”.  Personally, I thought it was crazy!  Breaking a perfectly good piece of pottery didn’t jive with my too-practical personality – but I went along with it.

As the idea grew on me, I finally chose a pitcher that held value to me – both monetarily and sentimentally.  Placing the pitcher in a Walmart sack, I raised it up in the air, cringed, and slammed it against the ground.  The clanking sound of broken pottery left a heaviness in my heart that surprised me, and as I later sat in the corner of that convention center patching it back together, I realized that maybe those “nutcases” were onto something! 

Piece by piece I saw parallels of life in that broken pottery.   We start out with pristine perfection -a life of value and beauty.  Time goes by and if life’s’ experiences don’t slowly chip away at us; it’s the crushing blows against the pavement that finally does us in.   My heart ached for the girl I once was - the perfect, carefree life without its flaws and imperfections.   To me, the past was where my value was.  Situations and circumstances had changed who I was, and I couldn’t say that I particularly loved the scars my heart now held. “There was nothing attractive about Him, nothing to cause us to take a second look, a Man who suffered , who knew pain firsthand.”

I turned the broken shards carefully in my hands, careful not to cut myself.  Some pieces made no sense to me, and to be honest, I didn’t know where to begin with putting the pitcher back together.   But slowly and methodically, I became familiar with each piece and with great care began to restore the pot back to its original shape.  

As I worked, a question began to form in my mind.  “Is this how God feels about me?  Does He see value in my brokenness?”  Tears formed in my eyes as I realized that God Himself knows each intimate part of my life – enough to be able to rebuild it again!  “But the fact is, it was our pains He carried – our disfigurements, all the things wrong with us.”

By the time I had finished recreating the broken pitcher, I had come to love it more than ever. The slices on my fingers stood to prove that my own rough edges had certainly hurt my Jesus, still He hadn’t given up on me.  “But it was our sins that…ripped, tore and crushed Him – our sins!  …Through his bruises, we get healed!”

One area bothered me though.  Towards the bottom of the pitcher was a hole.  The pieces that belonged there had been crushed beyond repair.  I worried over it for some time before God spoke to me about it, “It is here My light can shine through the brightest.”  Suddenly the jagged, ugly hole didn’t look so horrid anymore, nor did the imperfections on my own heart!  I had known all along, but somehow now it became clearer that true beauty shines brighter through brokenness!  “The plan was…that He’d see life come from it – life, life and more life!”

 

The pitcher now holds a place of honor on my dining room table.  Each time I look at it, it reminds me of the value I hold in Jesus’ eyes, and it challenges me to let His light shine through my life.   

The Easter story intrigues me in many ways.  Numerous prophecies were fulfilled during those three sad days, but one fact that comforts me and brings me to my knees is this. The thirty pieces of silver used to betray Jesus eventually bought “the potter’s field”.  The Potter’s field was a place to discard the damaged, broken and rejected pots.  

What appeared to hold little value to many gives hope today to those whose lives are damaged, broken and rejected.  Jesus purchased the potter’s field with His life.  Just like my mother with her hot glue gun, Jesus sees worth in our brokenness.  

This Easter, remember that He refuses to throw you away.  He longs to rebuild your life.  He has a purpose for you!

Birthday Bash

Kobe and his lion cake (made by Meemaw S)

Pawpaw and Meemaw brought their gift in an adorable froggy bag (it even ribbits).  My "little" brothers loved it so much I guess, that they decided to use it too!  :)





The famous froggy bag

While Kobe was admiring his new Panda Pillowpet ("this is just what I wanted for my birt-day") that he had pulled from the bag, Uncle Mat (Aunt E is in Lousiana and couldn't come) stashes his gift inside and presents the froggy bag to Kobe.



Kobe opens the bag again and finds a giraffe, elephant and zebra ("I loved deez animals!").   

As he's loving "deez" animals, Chris replenishes the bag with their gift - cash (heiney-shake and "awwwwe-some!").  Guess you could say we're going green! LOL!



Celebrating A Last

Tomorrow is a milestone for Kobe - his 4th birthday.  Thus a milestone for me - a last.  Today is (unless by some act of God) the last day I will mother a three-year-old.  

As much as I hate to admit it, all those ladies who have encouraged me to "enjoy them while they're young" are right.  It seems like only yesterday that Amy was three, Corey was almost two, and Kobe was an infant (Tyler was seven, which deemed him one of the adults), and now here we are!  We survived!!  No more pampers, bottles and sleepless nights.  Hello footballs, four-wheelers, and lots of laughter!  We'll enjoy you immensely until they hit the teen years and the sleepless nights start over again. ;)

Kobe Isaiah Carpenter



I look horrible, I know..  Hopefully it will give you mother's out there some encouragement!  :)
In my defense, I was drugged, convinced that Mickey Mouse was in the room,
wondering how I was gonna survive the next couple years and annoyed
that my kids had just eaten all my chocolate cake!



We survived!  Last day until my baby turns 4!

Happy Birthday, Kobe!



Heads Are Gonna Roll

Taking a slight detour from Portraits of Redemption for this little tidbit:

Heads Are Gonna Roll

Peace.  It’s something we passionately pursue!  And for women today peace is often just beyond the reach of our desperately-in-need-of-a-manicure fingernails.

I hear a lot about simplifying my life… taking time to rest… get rid of the clutter.  Good advice, still it’s become the norm to live lives of chaos and stress.   

A couple of days ago, I read a horrifying, yet morbidly amusing, story in 2 Samuel 20.  The Bible calls her a shrewd woman.  She lived in a town called Abel Beth Maacah.  Abel Beth Maacah (besides taking up too much space on their return address labels) was described as a “mother in Israel” – meaning a place of great importance and having many inhabitants.   

So on this day in ABM, a bad guy enters the city – looking for a place to hide.   Upon hearing of Sheba’s arrival, the town likely went into hiding with him.  The long arm of the law was on his tail and the dust of Joab’s army could be seen rising in the distance.  Trouble was coming and the occupants of ABM knew it!

Most women probably did exactly what I would have done –collect their children, grab a few snacks and hide in the basement … under a blanket.  In those days, situations like this didn’t end up well.  They were about to experience terror and pandemonium… maybe even death.  The town of ABM was going to lose its reputation as a place of peace and tranquility.  Their status as a tourist destination was about to take a big hit!

Then hope stood up in the crowd!  This was her town – her home!  This wise woman wasn’t about to let anything come in and destroy it without a fight.  For that reason, she took action.

The woman called out from inside the city.  She didn’t beg and plead with the soldiers nearby.  No, she went right to the top, “Tell Joab to come here so I can speak to him.”  I wish I could have been there (well, kinda) to see the looks on their faces.  Who did this woman think she was – calling out for Joab?  He was the captain of the army after all!  Didn’t she know how important he was?  To think she had the right to talk to someone of his status?

Perhaps it was their shock that got the job done, and soon the wise woman was talking to Joab himself, “We’re a peaceful people here, and reliable.  And here you are, trying to tear down one of Israel’s mother cities.  Why would you want to mess with God’s legacy like that?”  Joab protested that he was only trying to catch the bad guy, Sheba.

“Sounds good,” the woman replies, “hang on and we’ll… toss… you… his… head… (yes, you read that right) from up here on the wall.”

Believe it or not, that’s exactly what they did – and the town was saved! 

She is my hero!  She wasn’t your typical warrior, yet she stood courageously in the face of death itself.   I want to be just like her!  No, I don’t want to cut anyone’s head off (I can’t even touch a cow tongue without blanching).  It’s simply the principle of her actions that excites me and (hopefully) women everywhere!   

Her story left me wondering about might be threatening to destroy the life within my home.  What have I let sneak inside the “city gates” that brings with it turmoil and pain?   When “stuff” takes too much time, I’m climbing the wall!  When “things” steal my peace of mind, I’m calling out for the Captain!  When the enemy comes to destroy my family – heads are gonna roll!

The basement is cold, dark and frankly, a little scary!  Blankets can’t stop the arrows of the enemy and a few granola bars aren’t enough to satisfy our appetites for long.  Hiding isn’t worth it!  Climb the wall with me and with God’s wisdom weed out the enemies that threaten to steal the peace in your life!