Ah, Friday.

Today the kittens are four weeks old. After nearly a month of intense scientific observation I can unequivocally state that kittens are darned cute little beasties. I am very glad we are in a position to keep the lot of them. I can't imagine breaking up this crew.

Tomorrow we will have been here three weeks. Time flies when you're having fun!

Tomorrow Rodney and Jacob return from scout camp. They have been cold and wet and knee-deep in mud, which, I hear, is all necessary for a successful scouting experience.

We have still not received the money from the house, but, I have been told that the docs did finally come through and the buyer did sign. Money by Monday, the realtor said. "Bout time.

This afternoon the kids and I took a walk. The kids wanted me to see some horses that belong to the owners of the RV park. It wasn't far, but coming back involved going up a short, but fairly steep incline (just the side of a wash). The girls and I came up with no problems, but Isaac, who had ridden his bike, was still at the bottom. He said it was too steep and he needed my help to get the bike up. I told him I thought he could do it, and I wasn't going to help. So, he pushed and pulled, and slid back, and tried again and again, and it was kind of hard, but I really thought he could manage this, so I didn't help. Finally, he figures out a different angle and makes one more big effort, and gets the bike up to the top and onto the flat. I said, "I knew you could do it." Then he said, "I hate you." Not angry or upset, just a statement. "Yeah," I said, "but you did it." I've been thinking about this for the rest of the afternoon and it has become one of those moments when having children of my own helps me understand the way God deals with me. I could easily have pulled that bike up for him, but it was more important in the long-run for him to see that he was stronger and smarter than he thought he was. It was hard to watch him struggle, but I want him to grow to be independent of me so I can't do for him what I know he can do himself, even if he doesn't know he can do it. And how often, when I reach the top of a difficult climb in my own life, do I look to the heavens and petulantly complain about what wasn't made smooth for me, instead of falling to my knees in gratitude for the chance to see that I was more than I thought possible. I am grateful for a Father in Heaven who is more concerned with my growth than His own ego. If all God wanted was praise and adoration, He could work fancy, front-page miracles all day, every day until there would be no doubt in the minds of men. This could be a world without sickness, pain, or war, but it would also be without growth. It would be Satan's plan, where we would exist just to stoke the ego of deity. I am grateful that that is not my God.