The Tale of the Cow Mug: A Story of Sacrifice

It is "Good" Friday. Throughout this week's studies of goats, Passover, and the Easter story, one word keeps surfacing as a clear theme: sacrifice. Even the Veggie Tales DVD I selected at the library - "A Lesson in Sharing," which seemed appropriate for the constant squabbles in our home - used the word in the very fitting verse at the end:

Let us not forget to do good, and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased. Hebrews 13:16

The boys excitedly note the use of their new vocab word, and again I find myself trying to explain it in a way that small children can comprehend. Sacrifice, I tell them, is not quite the same as sharing. I attempt to illustrate the difference between sharing a favorite toy and an old unwanted toy. They still aren't quite grasping it, so I explain that God wants our best...not the old mushy grapes from our fruit bowl, not the ones that we were going to throw away anyway; He wants the plumpest, juiciest, most perfect unblemished grapes. Giving away a rotten grape is easy. Throwing away a flawless, delicious piece of fruit that you really want to eat is a sacrifice.

Of course, to almost anyone, a grape is nothing. What we consider a sacrifice is all in our perspective. What would be a sacrifice to you? Giving up an opportunity to sleep in? A vacation? Your TV? (Maybe just one of many TVs?) Your car? Your gym membership? Your career? With all the material abundance our family has been blessed with, it can be challenging to teach our children to truly appreciate their possessions, activities, and relationships. Meal time, in particular, provides ample opportunities for practice. I strive to teach them that it really doesn't matter who gets the yellow napkin and who uses the orange one. They need to say "Thank you" for their not-quite-favorite food instead of complaining that they would rather have something else. And milk, I assure Donny, will taste the same no matter what glass, bottle, or mug it is sipped from. But children, in many ways, are tiny versions of adults, and the selfishness so easily observed in their behavior is just as likely, though perhaps not visibly, to manifest in us.

This winter, my five year old has enjoyed having his milk warmed up at mealtime in a ceramic mug, and one of his favorite mugs is the cow mug. My cow mug, to be exact. In 1999, I received two mugs featuring a print of cows in a field, along with some hot cocoa packets, as a Christmas gift. Since I happened to be big fan of cows, the mugs were lovingly displayed in my bedroom until I got married and added them to my kitchen cupboard. (Don't worry, the hot cocoa was consumed long ago!) They are my favorite mugs, one of which I keep in the back of the cupboard as a spare, of sorts, while the other is my cup of choice for the decaf tea or other warm drinks I periodically enjoy in winter. Since I do all of the drink-pouring in our home, my mug selection has never been in question until recently. Now suddenly, another person is requesting my preferred vessel. And while I constantly remind him that it does not matter which mug I give him, and that he needs to be thankful regardless of the pattern on his cup, I find my own sinful nature hesitant to display such contentment. I reach for the cow mug and claim it for myself whenever I can. And when Donny requests it, I may not burst into tears like my favorite kindergartener, but I reluctantly pour his milk, silently feeling some tiny twinge of resentment that views this completely insignificant act as some kind of sacrifice.

They say that the best way to truly understand a subject is to teach it. And so, I (try to) teach my children gratitude, and contentment, and unselfishness. As I instruct them, I feel the sting of conviction in my own conscience when I desire what I don't have, or hold too tightly to what I do have. Sharing my favorite mug, I must understand, may be difficult because of my selfish nature, but it is not a noteworthy sacrifice. In fact, I should count very little, if anything, that I do for my Lord as a sacrifice. The daily dying to self that makes marriage work and raises healthy children is only my duty as a lowly servant of the King. Whether it means giving up sleep to comfort a sick child or drinking my tea in only my second-favorite mug, no act of love is too much for God to ask of me. It seems ridiculous even to compare it.

If we want to teach our children about sacrifice, we have to look beyond our kitchen table and up at the cross. The Father who gave His one and only Son made the greatest sacrifice in the history of time. Jesus Christ, though He never sinned, willingly gave His life for my selfishness and discontent and every other ugly thing that has ever marred the beauty of His world. That, my children, is sacrifice. May every cross, every lamb, and every mug of warm milk remind us of that precious fact.

Journal: Milking It

Monday March 22, 2010
It seems like our family just cannot get healthy this winter. We finally got over a month-long cold, and now the boys are throwing up. Donny woke up sick during the night, requiring a few changes of sheets, and Hayden joined in the vomiting fun after nap time. The boys slept a lot of the day while it rained outside. Don and I were supposed to go to a wake for my stepmother's father at night, but because I could not leave the children, Don went by himself.

Tuesday March 23, 2010
The boys have stopped throwing up, but they were very tired and had no appetite today. Lydia is getting two more top teeth (lateral incisors). Don gave notice that he will be leaving his part-time job coaching gymnastics soon to start his personal training business.

Wednesday March 24, 2010
The boys seem better, but now Lydia is throwing up and has a fever. She needed to be held all day. To go with our C-c-Cow unit, we made butter by whipping heavy cream in the Kitchen-Aid mixer. It was interesting to watch the different stages it went through, and Donny and I enjoyed eating it on crackers!

Thursday March 25, 2010
Our friend Bill, a heating and cooling technician, was here all day installing our new boiler. Apparently we caught the stomach bug from his family. Lydia is still sick and needy. I tried making baked oatmeal, and I liked it so much that I ate nearly half the pan in one day!

Friday March 26, 2010
Last week’s beautiful weather was apparently a fluke; earlier this week was rainy, and today the temperature made a drastic drop to the 30’s. Thankfully, everyone was feeling well enough to run errands this morning, but the boys still are not eating much, and Lydia is more clingy than usual. My stomach is starting to hurt, too.

Saturday March 27, 2010
Don ended up getting sick last night and slept all day today. Bill was here most of the day finishing the boiler installation. The boys and I made ice cream by shaking up cream, vanilla, and sugar in a baggie surrounded by ice and salt. It was too bad our ten minutes of vigorous shaking only produced a small quantity, because it was delicious! Hayden was a good sport to help even though he can't have ice cream or any other dairy products. I am also attempting to make yogurt in the crockpot, including a coconut milk version for Hayden. We’ll see how it turns out in the morning!

Sunday March 28, 2010
The attempt at coconut milk yogurt was unsuccessful, which could have been due to keeping the heat too high, or using the wrong kind of probiotic to start it. The cow’s milk yogurt was entirely drinkable, but definitely yogurt in flavor. I will have to try it again using a different incubation method.

Don was at a gymnastics meet all day, and we had decided in advance that I would stay home with the children to avoid sharing our sick germs. It was really nice to have a peaceful Sunday without having to rush off to Sunday School, home from church for a late lunch, then back to church for Youth Group, and home again for a late bedtime. I love our church dearly, but once in a while, a day of actual rest is a blessing!

A verse from this week's readings:
Hear, O Israel: The LORD our God, the LORD is one. Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. ...
The LORD commanded us to obey all these decrees and to fear the LORD our God, so that we might always prosper and be kept alive, as is the case today. And if we are careful to obey all this law before the LORD our God, as he has commanded us, that will be our righteousness.
Deuteronomy 6:4-7, 24-25

Glory in the Sticks

But ask the animals, and they will teach you,
or the birds of the air, and they will tell you;
or speak to the earth, and it will teach you,
or let the fish of the sea inform you.
Which of all these does not know
that the hand of the LORD has done this?
Job 12:7-9

This afternoon was an amazing 70 degrees outside, and it was the perfect day for an adventure in our yard. With Lydia in the Ergo, and the boys dressed in their boots, we set out to explore the woods beside our house.


Believe it or not, in the 15 months that we have owned this home, I have never been to that part of our property…and our land is less than an acre! Our side yard is a wooded corner lot, providing just a taste of forest wonders before one meets the road, and until today I never had the simultaneous time, desire, and appropriate weather to investigate it. Today, after a brief lesson on the proper method of carrying a walking stick (so as not to impale one's brother), our first stop was by the edge of the large ditch that still held water from last weekend’s heavy rains. The boys thought it was the perfect spot to go fishing.


They found a “cuttlefish” plastic soda bottle and some “jellyfish” made of pine needle muck. Watching them play at the water’s edge reminded me of my own childhood, when I would explore the woods behind our house, making up all kinds of stories in my imagination as I crossed brooks, gathered sticks, and played beneath spruce trees. When they were done fishing, we investigated some fallen trees – and even a fallen telephone pole – and gathered some nice dry sticks for Daddy to burn in our next campfire. On our way back towards the front yard, we discovered a completely isolated evergreen; amidst young and old pines, and a few maples, was a random Christmas tree!



Before heading inside, we spent some time in our little strip of front yard (the only place where we have anything that resembles grass). I let Lydia loose on the dead grass, and she was both serious and delighted with her first real outdoor encounter.



We saw the mail carrier deliver our mail, and a few neighbors visiting their mailboxes, including Mrs. K., an older lady who lives across the street. In our brief conversation about the beautiful day and how busy I must be with three children, she commented that it’s nice I can be home with them. Watching my baby girl pluck fistfuls of grass and sneak a taste of tree bark, while my boys entertain themselves by banging sticks against the maple tree, I could not agree more.





I am so privileged to have this job of teaching little ones about the world God made for us, witnessing their wonder and delight, and striving to answer their many questions. I am consumed by the great responsibility that their words, their actions, and their attitudes will be shaped by mine. And I realize that my life must be characterized by constant prayer, both in praise for God’s blessings, and in seeking wisdom for the many decisions to be made each day.

I don’t like bugs or dirt or neglecting chores that need to be completed, so I do not often look forward to taking the children outside. But once we are out there, basking in the waning sunshine, I realize how much I love it. There is something so peaceful and simple about interacting with nature, something that no human-created environment can duplicate. In the style of Charlotte Mason, I have a sense that these outdoor adventures are as much a part of the children’s education as any formal lesson. Any inconvenience of getting outside is forgotten when I realize how worthwhile it is to be there.

Raising children is a backyard adventure. There are trails to blaze, hills to climb, and mud puddles to wade through. It takes time away from other activities that we may prefer, but with the right attitude, we find it rewarding. It may not have the glamorous sound of other professions, any more than exploring our yard sounds like swimming the English Channel or hiking through Yellowstone. It is full of things that seem commonplace on the surface: sticks and stones and trees; crawling and reading and baths and laundry. Yet when we take a few moments to examine the pattern of a leaf, to feel the texture of grass or a smooth stone, to discover the brilliant color of a wildflower, we realize that God’s glory is revealed right here in the small things. I may not be feeding orphans in the streets of India or preaching the Gospel to African tribes, but I am here in the yard, doing the work God gave me, and seeing His glory in the sticks and stones and smiles.

Thank you Lord, for blessing me with three willing explorers, and for Your faithful guidance as I help them discover the world.