Ora et Labora

We started a new Latin book this year. Upon opening to the first lesson, we found our first Latin quote...

Ora et labora. - St. Benedict The following explanation accompanied this quote. "Ora et labora is a summary of the Rule of St. Benedict and is a good rule for our lives too." Ora et labora means pray and work. I got a lot of blank stares from the boys. "Is this guy serious?" they seemed to say.

So here we are. I wanted to share a few labora pictures.

As for the ora part...I don't think I want to know what is really in their prayers. It probably involves lightning strikes and fires destroying all this labora that still looms large in their future.

Lowering the Bar...or not?

I was talking with a friend of mine the other day about the house situation and the conversation was something like this...

Friend: "What do you think is the minimum that you have to get done before you bring the kids home?"

Me: "I don't know. I've lowered the bar so many times, I just don't know anymore. It's starting to sink in that the bar is nowhere close to being as low as it will need to go."

Later that evening I was laying in bed feeling very sorry for myself. In all my dreams and plans of adopting kids (dreams that go back to the age of 13), this scenario never entered my mind.

The next day we had a storm that knocked out our power. It was off for most of the day before a crew came to fix it. I must admit, it wasn't a fun day. We were having to run power tools off generators and I became the refrigerator nazi..."don't open that door or you'll let all the cold air out!!!" The problem ended up being a blown transformer that runs directly to our house, so the crew had to replace it. Since they saw that we were in the middle of a huge construction project they asked if we wanted them to upgrade the transformer. This was something we were going to have to pay for later on, but since it was related to an outage it would be free. As the boys and I watched the man up in the lift working on the line they asked me what he was doing. I related the whole story to them and this was Preston's response.

"Oh, so what we thought was something bad, it was actually God's plan to give us something good!!! Isn't that right, Mommy?"

"Yes, Preston." I said, as my throat got tight and tears stung my eyes. Immediately my mind went back to my pity party the night before. Why can my 7 yr old see so easily what I couldn't see? From my perspective, having to learn what I can actually live without is "lowering the bar". But from God's perspective, maybe it's actually raising the bar.

Time to Kick

Ever been watching a race and heard an announcer comment

He better start his kick or he'll never catch up?

She started her kick too early and ran out of gas.

Does this guy have any kick left in him?

Well, Paul and I have often referred to this whole remodeling ordeal as a marathon. So the other night after we got the call that court date for our adoption in Ethiopia had been scheduled for October 5th, I said to Paul, "Well, I guess it's time to start our kick."

And he responded, "Yeah, only it's too bad that we've only just passed the first water station."

I'm not actually a runner, but I think that means it's not lookin' so good! However, kicking we are. I have seriously, seriously never worked so hard in my whole life. (That could be a commentary on my pathetic previous work experience.) In the past few weeks I have painted, hung insulation, run wires, laid tile, grouted, demolitioned walls, operated a jack hammer, saw, drill and various other tools whose names all seem similar (how many different types of saws and screwdrivers do we really need).

So although I know it's time to start my kick. It seems that my beeehind is the only thing really getting kicked around here.

Here's to hoping I make it to the finish line!