The Wake-Up Call

The first words I heard this morning, as I slowly drifted back from the sweet, sweet land of sleep were,

"Mom...." "Mom!" "MOM!"

This actually was repeated many more times, but if I accurately recorded exactly how many I am concerned that the size-limit google allows for their blog posts might be exceeded.

Finally, a faint whisper in return-

"Huh?"

"Can I play on the computer?"

A pause.

"Mom...." (pause) "Mom!" (pause) "MOM!"

The same faint whisper-

"Huh?"

"Can I play on the computer?"

Again, no answer. This repeated several more times. Again, I will leave it to your imagination so that I don't have to actually type it out.

Finally, after the 32nd attempt, (or at least the 5th), our son said in his sweet 1st grade voice,

"AYE-AYE-YIE" Pronounced this would be "I-I-YIE" with each successive syllable getting progressively louder. This is an expression all 3 of my kids seemed to learn in the last year or two at school, and I think all of them have taken to it somewhat, but my youngest seems to have developed a special affinity for it every time he gets frustrated.

I am thankful that God blessed Rachael with a job at a Christian school, so that our kids can attend there. So far, "AYE-AYE-YIE" rates as about as bad as the kids have brought home from their friends at school.

Trying to rest, the process began to repeat.


I didn't think I could take it much longer. Somehow, Rachael awakes just long enough to give a false hope that she's going to be able to make a decision about playing on the computer, but then instantly drifts back to sleep. I am not so lucky.

"Honey?"

"Hon?"

Rachael finally wakes up. At this point, I help Ben out and we ask her if she's ok with him playing on the computer. The answer makes him squeal with delight.

He practices his sprinting moves as he runs to the office.

I tell Rachael how many times Ben had asked. About that same time Rebecca, our eldest daughter walked in the room. She mentioned the other sleep induced response Rachael is famous for.

She said, in her newly acquired 4th grade voice, "Sometimes when we ask you a question when you're still half-asleep, the answer comes out 'ahhhhuhhhh'. It's hard to tell if that's a yes or a no. You have to listen really close. Yes sounds just a little bit different than no."

Now of course, Rachael would be back asleep by this point anyway, and would probably not even remember the question or the answer.

I'm just thankful that our kids have NEVER taken advantage of that situation. I know that if your kids are like mine, they would never, EVER take advantage of their mom's sleepy responses. Which is a good thing, because if they wanted to, they could probably get in a lot of trouble.

"Mom, can we have the keys to the Honda? We want to go joy-riding!"
"Ahhhhuhhhh"
"Gee, thanks Mom! - Catch ya later!" Of course, the fact that my oldest daughter is only 9 might impose some natural restrictions on this one, as I'm pretty sure her feet would have a hard time reaching the pedals.

"Mom, my sisters are being mean to me. Can I hit them?"
"Ahhhhuhhhh"
"Woo-hoo- No time-out this time!"

"Mom, I'm going to go practice my knife-juggling in the kitchen, OK?"
"Ahhhhuhhhh"
"Wow- Thanks Mom! I didn't think you would let me."


After Rebecca finished talking about the indiscernibility of Rachael's 'yes' from her 'no' when she is half-asleep, she asked us if we had noticed the bagels she had brought us for breakfast. For the past few months, she has tried to make sure to bring us breakfast in bed every Saturday morning. This has resulted in messy kitchens, extra dishes, but most of all it has been an affirmation of her love for both of us. I've been quite touched by it.

"Mom, do you remember me bringing in the bagel?"
"No."
"Your eyes were open."

Ahh, the bliss of half-sleep. When you're awake enough to still feel comforted and somewhat cradled by your soft bed and comfy pillows, but not awake enough to really register what's going on around you.

The more I think about this, I can see where I have really been missing the boat. Next Saturday is going to be different.

"Hon, I'm going to go buy a new Corvette today."
"Ahhhhuhhhh"
"With the 401(k) money."
"Ahhhhuhhhh"
"OK, kids, she agreed. you stay here and take care of momma."

"Hon, I think I'll leave you to take care of the kids this whole weekend. I'm gonna go spend some time with the guys."
"Ahhhhuhhhh"
"Hey! Thanks!"

And then get out of there before she actually wakes up.

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The Faith Of A Child, part 2

If you have not read the first part of this story, please take the time to do so now. Otherwise, this one will make very little sense. Go to: http://lifewithrachael.blogspot.com/2009/08/faith-of-child.html.


After Hannah's move into her new bedroom, we realized she did not have a dresser for her new room. Hannah prayed to God in the sweetest way possible, and with total faith, after which she fell deep into a sweet sleep. Rachael was the one putting her to bed and told me about Hannah's prayer.

Being the adult that I am, I marvelled at her incredible faith, her seemingly unwavering belief in her God. I probably even envied it a little bit.

Then I began to worry some.

"What's going to happen when Hannah wakes up and she has no dresser?"

"What's going to happen when we go through the entire day tomorrow, and there is no dresser?"

"Will I be able to convince Hannah that God answered her prayer by Rachael and I spending our money to purchase one?"

"Will her faith be tested?"

I fell asleep thinking about how to explain to Hannah why she did not have a dresser sitting in her room when she woke up. With the incredible faith that she had, I thought she might actually be surprised that the dresser was NOT there.


I woke up Sunday morning and got the kids out of bed, and began to make breakfast. Yes, I made breakfast. I am in charge of Sunday mornings. While I have never professed to being a fine chef, I serve up a mean toasted Eggo waffle, or Quaker Oatmeal (the kind that you only have to add hot water to.) I sometimes mess up the oatmeal, but usually it comes out at least edible. As I was getting everything ready, I was trying to prepare mentally to help answer any of the doubts that Hannah was sure to express about there not being a dresser in her room.

I called to the kids that breakfast was ready. They dutifully came and sat down. We said grace and began to eat.

This was it.

This was when Hannah was going to start asking the questions.

She opened her mouth to talk.

I braced myself.

"Dad, can I have some milk, please?"

The entire breakfast went smoothly. There were no questions. There was only the normal conversational banter that comes whenever you have 3 kids in close proximity to food.

After breakfast, I headed off to take my shower after giving the kids their instructions to clear their spots and get ready for church.

"Whew, it looks like I'm not getting any hard questions this morning!"

Everyone got ready and we piled in the truck. Now, we live about 35 minutes from the church we go to. That's a long time. Plenty of opportunity for Hannah to ask the Hard Questions.

But there were no Hard Questions. There were no questions at all. By this time, I figured maybe Hannah had just forgotten about her prayer.

I think I may have just been underestimating the depth of her faith.

Sometimes when we as adults ask God for something, if He doesn't answer in the next 4 minutes, we figure he's just not listening, or Satan's attacking, or our spouse is living so unholy that God can't possibly answer our prayers. We sometimes forget about that whole In His Time thing.

We had a fairly uneventful ride to church. We always enjoy seeing the ocean, the sea lions, the beautiful reflection of the sun on the bay. We had our normal conversations. All was normal and nice.


We pulled up to the church.

We looked at the yard surrounding the church and saw a dresser.

I turned to Rachael and said,

"Look at what's in front of the church."

The kids did not see it at first.

Rachael said, "Oh My Goodness, Look at that!" in the exaggerated tone we parents use when we want to be absolutely sure our kids get our message.

Once they saw it, Rebecca said that Hannah needed a dresser. Hannah asked if she could have it.

Now why is there a dresser in front of the church. Why? Why indeed?

We've been going to this same church for almost 6 years. It's not like it is a normal place for people to dump furniture. In our entire time there, we've never seen a dresser there on Sunday morning. Or a couch. Or a bed. Or any other piece of furniture, for that matter.

I'm still not wanting to get my hopes up, so I answer Hannah's question as my adult version of watered-down faith has taught me to:

"I have no idea. We'll have to see what's going on with it."

I have no idea? I have no idea? Can I possibly be any more dense?


We walked into the church and talked with the pastor and the deacon. We asked them what was going on with the dresser. Neither had any idea. They said that someone had left it there sometime on Friday. They both expressed surprise at the fact that no one had taken it on Saturday. The neighborhood around the church is not terrible, but it's not the best. Apparently, things like the dresser don't usually sit around unclaimed for long.

I asked them what they were going to do with the dresser.

They answered.

"We don't know. We don't want it. Do you possibly want it?"

Thinking back to this now, I feel like bawling like a baby. I am prone to doing that at times. Especially when confronted face-to-face with the incredible goodness of God. I told Hannah. She did not even seem surprised. She did seem very grateful and happy.

After Hannah had asked for the dresser, I hoped that I might be able to somehow use the opportunity when she didn't get the dresser to help her learn a lesson about how God doesn't always answer our prayers like we think He might. Maybe a lesson on waiting on God. Or a lesson on never losing Faith.

I was hoping that Hannah's faith might be strenghened.

Instead, Hannah's faith was completely and totally fulfilled, and I was the one to learn the lesson.

When I began this post, I talked about how thankful I am for the influence Rachael has been on our kids. I believe that Rachael has played an instrumental part in helping develop the faith of our children. Life with Rachael is often full of blessings.

That night, as we got down to pray, I talked to Hannah about her prayer the night before and how amazing it was that God had answered it so suddenly and completely. She had the knowing look of a child that knew what was going to happen all along. I don't think she was nearly as amazed as I had been.

She got ready to pray.

I halfway-jokingly asked her if she'd mind asking God to give Daddy a Corvette.

She just looked at me and said, "Dad!" like it was crazy to ask for something like that.


I think she gets it.

She really gets it.

I'm working on it.


*Be sure to come back tomorrow for the final post and to see a picture of the dresser that Hannah's prayers brought.