Presidential Recognition

Yesterday my daughter turned four.  I was opening my Facebook account on the computer to read her the greetings people had sent for her special day, and the home page on our computer (CNN) happened to show a picture of Barack Obama. 

“Who is that, Mommy?”

So I explained, trying to emphasize the magnitude of his position, “He’s the president of our whole country, of all of America.” 

Disappointed, “Oh, then he probably doesn’t know it’s my birthday.”

No, probably not. 

But as I was thinking back on that tonight and chuckling at her desire to be the center of the universe, and consequently realizing that she’s not, I realized something else quite wonderful.  Though the president of our entire nation is too busy to have time to recognize my little girl’s fourth birthday, someone much more important does know and does care.  Of course, I refer to God himself.  And when I think what an honor it would be to be recognized by the head of state for any nation on earth, I am humbled that our God—unspeakably above any human leader—knows and cares about each minute detail of our lives.

Gift-Giving Mania

I have to admit, I am having more fun shopping for Christmas gifts this year than ever before.  For one thing, I love the convenience of sifting through the myriad of choices from the comfort of my computer chair with a piece of pie in hand.  And whenever I want.  And no one knows or cares that my daughter is throwing a fit because she has to be in bed; no stares of condemnation and judgement, no zipping coats and fastening car seat buckles.  But really, I love reading reviews from customers, comparing prices from different stores, etc.  Not all my gifts are online purchases, but to be honest, I’m somewhat surprised we haven’t gotten a call from the credit card company to see if the card was stolen.

Perhaps it’s a sign of my upbringing, but every pleasure seems to provoke some feeling of guilt.  Am I turning materialistic?  Am I out of control?  Every addict says, “I can quit any time.”  Right now I’m approaching the end of my list of gift recipients, and I feel a little like Alexander the Great who wept because there were no more worlds to conquer.  In reality, though, I objectively think I’m not out of control, just caught up in the excitement of preparing surprises for happy family members.  (I’m also excited about getting it done earlier than I ever have, probably ever will.  And Christmas cards haven’t been started yet—no one said you could have it all.)

The point of this rambling is that I am excited to be giving “good gifts” to my children and other family members.  There is anticipation of the joy and surprise I will see on their faces when we exchange tokens of our love for each other.  And it reminds me of Matthew 7, where God teaches us that the love of a parent for a child, exemplified in giving them things that are good for them and that will be helpful to them, is a washed-out version of God’s love for us. 

Christmas can be a struggle for a lot of people.  A struggle to find time for all the demands of the season.  An effort to budget for all the gifts, parties, decorations, etc. that tap already-stretched incomes.  A desire for everything to be “perfect” and to perform up to everyone’s expectations.  My friend, “If you sinful people know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your heavenly Father give good gifts to those who ask him.”  With the same love and anticipation I feel about buying animal crackers on sale at the grocery to light up my children’s faces, our heavenly Father wants to meet your needs.  And His gifts are always good.

“Come unto me, all ye that labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.”

Book Time: “Thanksgiving: A Time to Remember”

Here’s another recommendation that is a great resource for Thanksgiving.  This book, Thanksgiving: A Time to Remember, was given to us when our son was born.  Last year I couldn’t find it after the move, and this year my almost-four-years-old daughter is just beginning to understand the rudimentary concept of a holiday for thankfulness.  As I have explored this book with her, I am so excited to share the heritage of the Pilgrims and the true story of God’s providence in that epic adventure.  I can see this book being used year after year for many annual remembrances.

One fantastic feature of the book is the way it is organized.  There are two sizes of fonts, and the larger font is the “abridged” version for smaller children or to fit a shorter time frame.  Reading both sets of fonts gives the expanded story, and additionally there are sidebar articles to further deepen the information.

And the book is beautiful!  I keep mine displayed on our mantle, and the outside is just a glimpse of how lovely the inside is as well.

Another unexpected bonus is the music CD which is included.  I listened to it for the first time this month, and was delighted by this stately set of piano renditions of Thanksgiving, harvest, and praise hymns and songs.  It has been played many times since and will no doubt accompany the festive food preparations this Thursday.

Thanksgiving truly is a time to give thanks, and as Christians we are so blessed to have an object, a recipient, of our Thankfulness: God Almighty.  Bless His holy name!  I hope you can add this book to your collection and enjoy the tangible way of focusing on this quickly-being-eclipsed holiday.

All For Jesus

Jesus, all for Jesus,
    All I am and have and ever hope to be.
    Jesus, all for Jesus,
    All I am and have and ever hope to be.

    All of my ambitions, hopes and plans
    I surrender these into Your hands.
    All of my ambitions, hopes and plans
    I surrender these into Your hands.

Do you know this song?  We were singing it at church one night, a sweet moment of Christians joining our voices in true worship to our God.  They were big words I was singing, but words I truly meant. 

Within days, as I was reading a book on motherhood, I came to the chapter titled “The Servant Mother.”  The author relates the details of a busy day, driving home in the late afternoon and hoping for fifteen minutes of down time before starting dinner.  A phone call from her teen daughter came about how to open the gas tank.  Another phone call from the same daughter about a movie she was excited about.  Her son asked her to come take a picture of him for his website.  Since nothing is simple, she wound up moving a huge piece of furniture to plug in the camera with the dead battery so she could take the picture.  Then her youngest daughter called her urgently to her bedroom so that she could show her the new way she had arranged her stuffed animals.  And it went on and on.

So many days, I feel my life is just like that.  I go from one minor incident to another, caring for my kids: untangling the balloons they got at the dentist the day before, changing a diaper, loading the dishwasher, zipping up coats, buckling car seats, sorting out whose turn it is for the red ball, etc. etc.  So I truly appreciated the reminder in this book that God wants us to be servants to our kids by doing the mundane for them.  She says, “Before I had children, I never realized this.  I really had no clue that admiring a Beanie Baby’s pen, taking a picture, finding a T-shirt, and helping to unlock a gas cap would be the kinds of sacrificial acts required of me most often while I attempted to fulfill the mission of motherhood. . . . But it’s the way I respond to my children in everyday moments that gives me the best chance of winning their hearts.”

I smiled at God’s timing in putting this book and this song together in my life at the same time.  For me, it can be so romantic to give God “all of my ambitions, hopes, and plans.”  It is another thing entirely to have my “me time” (a.k.a. afternoon nap time) interrupted by THREE (legitimate!) trips to the bathroom by my daughter, all requiring assistance.  And yet, this is the “living it out” way to make that song happen.  I’ve also noticed it’s not really about the action, either.  I will be helping my son find his shoes one way or the other, but the thing I have a choice about is my attitude.  I can choose to be cheerful, to be a servant, and to give myself willingly; or I can choose to begrudge the time, to be surly or sarcastic or exasperated.  God is pleased, obviously, with the first.  And though no one else is around, my children are watching and they can tell the difference.  “Jesus, all for Jesus.  All I am and have and ever hope to be.”  I pray He keeps me faithful and helps me to do—in the moment—the things I want to do in the sweet times of worship.

“And the King will answer them,

‘Truly, I say to you, as you did it to one of the least

of these my brothers, you did it to me.’”

Not "Just Because"

When my 3-year-old entered the “why” phase of her life, I assumed it was just that—a phase.  Now, close to a year later, I feel we may never exit this phase.  And while on some days it can be quite exasperating, it is also a strangely wonderful new way of looking at the world.

“Why does my suction cup bowl stick to the counter but not to the table?”

“Why does Sarah (a high schooler) get to sit in the front seat of the van even though she’s a kid?” 

“Why do leaves turn red and yellow but not purple?”

There are so many “why” questions in a day, that it becomes easy to want to shut down the flow of wondering.  I’ve addressed the whole justification for “because I said so” in a previous blog.  But sometimes the questions are not about obedience to a request; she just wants to understand how the world works.  And no answer in itself is sufficient, but it also breeds a new “why” question.  Eventually, she gets me to the point where the answer seems to be “just because.”  But that often is not the answer.  (As my English-teacher mother explains, because is a conjunction, not a reason.)  Often, the answer is the sovereignty of God.  Why did God make the dads in charge of the families?  Why do some people not have enough food to eat?  Why was there a big storm last night? 

It is so comforting that, while not knowing how or why, we are able to trust a sovereign God.  While God’s thoughts and ways are not only different than ours, they are higher (Isaiah 55:8-9).  They are better.  We can trust.  Even when we don’t understand.

The Things That Stick

One of my daughter’s favorite topics of conversation is “why trees die.”  We discuss at length the many and various ways and reasons a tree can die.  I have no idea why this is a recurring, often-requested dialogue, though perhaps it all started in a discussion of the movie Bambi.  At any event, it is yet another bewildering reinforcement of the fact that my daughter is her own person, and not merely someone I am creating. 

A year ago, we moved 600 miles across the country.  Since a year is a very long time in the life of a three-and-a-half year old, it’s been interesting for me to see what Karissa remembers.  The one thing that seems to have made the biggest impression from our former lives (along with our house and friends) is the candy store three blocks from our old house.  Now, it’s true, Zimmerman’s is no ordinary candy store.  A fourth-generation family-owned-and-operated gem, it’s a tiny-on-the-outside/enormous-on-the-inside wonderland.  But still.  One night—recently—I went into her room after putting her to bed to find out why she was sobbing.  “I just can’t get our old candy store out of my mind.” 

Two days ago I realized that the Bible verse memory cards we had started so gung-ho had been forgotten for a few weeks, partly (in my defence) due to two weeks of travel.  Feeling guilty though, I promised to help her review her newest verse so she could surprise her daddy by saying it perfectly.  “Which verse?” she asked.  “The one about two masters,” I told her.  Then, to my utter amazement, she proceeded to quote the entire verse word perfectly.

Now on the other hand, there are plenty of instances of not remembering—where her purple shoes are, whether she washed her hands, what her new friend’s name is, what the story was about in Sunday school (on the way home from church), etc.  And there are stunning, jaw-dropping instances of remembering, such as hearing her “read” Green Eggs and Ham with many lines word-for-word correct, including even the inflection.  (There is, however, and epic fail in that when she gets to the line “green eggs and ham” she inverts it and says “green ham and eggs.”)

Here’s the point: some stuff sticks.  Amazingly.  Remembering things from so long ago you’d never expect it.  Remembering things with detail to rival a detective.  Holding me to promises made before naps, made yesterday, made weeks ago. 

But then, not everything sticks.  No way.  Not possible, not probable, not even remotely likely.

So what WILL stick?  Is there a way for us to “select”?  I wish I could answer that!  But the take-home lesson is that we must live so that whatever DOES stick is something we will not be ashamed of.  So that the things that do stick will help her draw near to God.  We live, not private lives any longer, but constantly on the stage of our children’s wide-eyed wonder.  Yes, much of our stay-at-home lives are private—to our family.  But just as God is always watching, unseen, so our children are also watching—and seeing.

Borrowed Thoughts

Tonight I'd like to share some of the other "mother" blogs I've discovered recently that I really like to read.  I hope you enjoy them, too!

Rachel Jankovic, the author of the book Loving the Little Years, which I recently reviewed here.  These posts are from the Desiring God website.

Sometimes A Light, written by my friend Hannah.

Jomegs, the witty and encouraging musings of my friend Johanna.

What about you? Do you have any favorite sites to share? I'd love to hear them!

Earnest Expectations

Baby Hannah, who arrived July 24, 2011

Hope, hope, hope.  The Bible talks a lot about hope, and the question that gets raised is—what does that mean?  Is it something we think might happen?  Wish that it would?  Fear it might not? How much chance is contained in that word?  The Sunday school answer says that hope is more like happiness about a sure thing.  Our “hope” in Christ is our earnest expectation, our solid belief that what He has promised He is able also to perform.

I was thinking about all this a few weeks ago while we were waiting for my sister’s baby to make her grand entrance.  The due date came and went.  Each subsequent day brought the thought, “Maybe today!”  I remember going past my due date with Baby #2.  It was almost all I could think of the entire day.  “Now?  No? Then how about now?”  Like sitting at a red light waiting for it to turn green.  (Nine days later, my niece finally put in an appearance--to the delight of the watching world.)

The point is that our “hope” is not that feeling of “Wouldn’t it be really nice if I had a baby?  I wonder if I ever will?”  No one who looks at a woman nine months pregnant wonders if it maybe, might be in the cards for her to bear a child.  It becomes not a question of if but a question of when.

And isn’t that true of Christ’s promises!  We don’t need to hope in the sense of our current American usage of that word.  We don’t need to feel that the Bible’s truths may or may not prove unassailable.  We don’t need to pine for the possible return of Christ, but to confidently expect it, not wondering if but when!

“Looking for that blessed hope, and the glorious appearing of the great God and our Saviour Jesus Christ.”

The Milieu of Life

“Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one.  You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.  And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart.  You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you like down, and when you rise.  You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes.  You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.”

My former pastor in Pennsylvania used to quote Jay Adams advice on teaching children about God.  He said it should be worked into “the milieu of life,” or everyday living.  That’s basically what Deuteronomy 11:19 says, “You shall teach them to your children, talking of them when you are sitting in your house, and when you are walking by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.”

I know I do this imperfectly, but I certainly am trying.  Here are some of the rather humorous results of this process:

Last week at breakfast Karissa was looking earnestly into the face of her doll.  “Heidi,” she crooned, “do you know that God loves you even more than I love you?”

Today in the car we were talking about how “even mommy is a sinner and does bad things.”  She challenged me for examples.  (Among others) I told her sometimes I’m selfish and think I’m more important than other people.  How touching was her reply: “But you ARE more important!”

We also were discussing how heaven is better than earth.  (At the playground: “But how can it be nicer? This is nice!”)  I was trying to explain that there would be no sin, no bad people, no bugs, etc.  She wanted to know, “But will the big bad wolf be there?”

Book Time: 'Loving The Little Years'

 

On Sunday I read the book Loving the Little Years: Motherhood in the Trenches by Rachel Jankovic.  I discovered it while reading her article Motherhood Is a Calling .  The book is short (94 pages of material) and is made up of short chapters (20 altogether).  So it doesn’t take long to read, and it doesn’t require intense concentration to understand.  Yet it is enjoyable.

Here is the author’s description of her book:

I didn't write this book because mothering little ones is easy for me. I wrote it because it isn't. I know that this is a hard job, because I am right here in the middle of it. I know you need encouragement because I do too.

This is not a tender reminiscence from someone who had children so long ago that she only remembers the sweet parts. At the time of writing this, I have three children in diapers, and I can recognize the sound of hundreds of toothpicks being dumped out in the hall.

This is a small collection of thoughts on mothering young children for when you are motivated, for when you are discouraged, for the times when discipline seems fruitless, and for when you are just plain old tired.

The opportunities for growth abound here but you have to be willing. You have to open your heart to the tumble. As you deal with your children, deal with yourself always and first. This is what it looks like, and feels like, to walk as a mother with God.

One of my favorite parts was her description of female emotions, comparing them to wild horses.  We, and our little girls, are the riders and we must learn to control them, though the emotions themselves are not the problem.  “The goal is not to cripple the horse, but equip the rider.”

Another chapter in the book dissected an “intense” scene of getting everyone ready for church and out the door on Sunday morning.  (Have you ever had one of those mornings?)  I appreciate the way she took everything apart, showed where the problems were, and also explained who was to get “the blame” and how to fix the problem in the future.

Another thought-provoking section dealt with “me time.”  This is such a theme among mother friends and in parenting magazines!  It was refreshing to have this contrasted with a Christian perspective.

Overall, this book strikes a nice balance between figuring out why problems happen in the first place, how to look for the root issue, and illustrations of how her family deals with some of the common troubles young children face.  So much of the problem is not what is happening as much as why.  I also appreciate her emphasis on having the mother in the right place spiritually as an ultimate priority.

I hope you read this book if you get a chance, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I did!

The Stolen Book

The Scenario:

Recently my daughter was playing with some other children.  One of the girls took the book Karissa was reading out of her hand instead of choosing a different book from the large stack sitting nearby.  Karissa came to me and complained about this treatment (understandably).  The other girl’s mom was in the room, but didn’t see the situation happen. 

The Question:

What would YOU do?

My Answer at the Time:

I told Karissa to pick another book and let the other little girl have the book in question.

My Husband’s Gut Response:

Something like, “I don’t want my kid to be a push-over and get taken advantage of.  You can’t ignore justice in a situation.”

So . . . the pondering began.

First, being “nice” in public is something society, especially Christian society, encourages.  Was my response motivated by others watching me? But there’s also the idea of advocating for your child, letting them know you’re on their side.  Did I drop the ball?

What does the Bible have to say on the issue?  How about the biblical principle of “turning the other cheek”? “And if anyone forces you to go one mile, go with him two miles.”  Do these principles apply to play dates and sharing books between three-year-olds?  Can we apply, “Be kind to one another, tenderhearted, forgiving one another, as God in Christ forgave you”? 

And yet, taken to an extreme, we find ourselves giving up all our possessions—money, homes, cars—to anyone who asks us.  We find ourselves allowing others to trample us as humans and as individuals beloved by God.  Is this truly what God is asking us to do?  Is God telling us to do what reason screams is impossible? This response also denigrates the principle of justice.  An impartial judge would not have made such a ruling.

My next thought was to ask for advice.  I would ask all my friends and wise counselors what they thought I should do.  That would be great! People love to offer advice!  There must be a consensus I would like that we could reach together! 

Then I decided to figure out for myself what I thought before asking others for advice.  (And I am asking right now for your feedback.)  Here’s the position I personally decided to teach my children:

1.       Stand up for things that need to be defended.  These include things that pertain to Christ, that is, the issues he would be fighting for if he were in my place. (Oh, you mean he wouldn’t fight for the last piece of cheesecake in my fridge right now?)

2.      Stand up for people who need to be defended.  When others are being treated unjustly, and it is within my ability to offer aid, I should be ready and able to do so.

3.      Scrutinize closely the things I deem to be my “rights.”

4.      Communicate effectively so that my treasures are not squandered on the unappreciative.  (If it’s a special blanket to only one person, then the other person might easily be persuaded to accept an alternative one.)

If I truly love my child, I will teach her not to push for her own rights.  I will also teach her that I do love her and that as her mother I will protect her and value her.  Each situation will be different, but love and grace will be our guiding motivations. 

Of course, this is the goal; making it happen is the rest of my parenting years.  Figuring out what “protect” looks like, knowing what things make her feel valued, teaching her to deny herself even when it’s counterintuitive, discerning between things Christ would fight for and things that are more about me.  Yep, still working on those things in my own life.

Scenarios are always nuanced and each one requires discernment.  There a thousand qualifiers we could add to my opening story that would change the situation entirely.  I’m not really asking you to judge this particular scene but to think instead to the broader principles.  When would you choose to give up what’s yours?  To seek justice?  To defend?  What do you want your child to learn?

Life as a Moment

I attended a beautiful high school graduation party recently.  Another reminder that the lives of children slip away so quickly.  Karissa asks me longingly, “When will I be four?”  Things that take so long for children—two whole seasons of the year—seem so fleeting from my adulthood vantage point.

It reminds me of these verses:  “For our light affliction, which is but for a moment, worketh for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory.  While we look not at the things which are seen, but at the things which are not seen: for the things which are seen are temporal; but the things which are not seen are eternal.”

Thinking of how for a child three whole days until daddy’s birthday seems an interminable wait helps me when I’m struggling with the here and now.  I watch my friends and family take on difficult, seemingly unending battles.  I want to fix things.  NOW.  But now is not forever.  These things are so . . . temporal.  Looking back, it will not even seem long.  God our Father looks down knowingly on His children as we chafe at the slowness of time.

When I was a kid and we were only allowed to have two cookies, we watched my dad eat three.  My mom said that when we grew up we could eat as many cookies as we want.  I’m in my 30s now, and do you know?  She was right!

Heaven will be much more precious to us than unlimited cookies, and my friends, it will be worth the wait.  Look forward, for there is a blessed hope and glorious appearing waiting for us.  After all, this life truly is “but for a moment.”

The Talking Card

Sunday morning I was listening to three-year-old Karissa dictate the message that I was writing in her Father’s Day card. 

“Is this card going to talk to Daddy?” she asked. 

“Yes,” I responded. 

“Hey—that’s like God talking to us!  In the Bible!”

No Other Way

My second grade teacher drilled a definition of obedience into my head that I can still quote today: “Obedience is doing what you’re told to do, when you’re told to do it, with the right heart attitude.”  There is a lot of truth to that definition, and I’ve found myself explaining it to more than one child in my life.  But the truth that is hidden, buried perhaps in the last phrase, is the motive for obedience.  Trust.  The hymn chorus goes thus, “Trust and obey, for there’s no other way/ To be happy in Jesus, but to trust and obey.”

So when my husband was disappointed in our daughter’s disobedience the other day, I found it interesting that his main sadness was in her inability to trust him.  And I began pondering the relationship between trust and obedience.  Sometimes we know (or think we’ve figured out) why we are asked to do something.  When we “know why” it seems easier to obey.  Maybe because trust is being transferred from the one giving instructions to our own reason.  But without trust, it is impossible to obey.  Without trust, whether to follow instructions becomes a choice, not obedience.  And obedience proves love.

I spent a summer babysitting a 9-year-old boy and his two younger sisters.  I still remember his mom explaining to me that he was much more willing to obey when he knew the reason for the instruction.  Her advice made so much sense.  If I could tell him the reason, I certainly would.  I know firsthand that I like to know the “why” of a requirement.  Conversely, he had to know that if I could not tell him the reason (whether I didn’t have time, or it was too complicated, etc.), he still needed to obey.

And that is trust.  Trust says to the one giving instructions¸ “You don’t have to tell me why.  I know there is enough interest in me and love toward me that motivates your request.  I will do what you ask as proof to you that I acknowledge your love and wisdom.”  Of course, human authority, even motivated by strong ties of love, will sometimes fail.  Trust given to human authority also involves forgiveness for mistakes. 

But God-authority never fails!  There are never unforeseen circumstances, unintended consequences, or unlooked for motives.  I pray that my authority to Karissa and Husdon balances explained instructions and earned trust.  I want to reflect God’s authority as I seek to be merely a channel of His grace and love.  And as He teaches me, may I trust God enough to simply obey.

“If you love me, you will keep my commandments.” (John 14:15)

Basking

No deep thoughts here tonight, just savoring the time with my two precious kiddos.  We went to the dry cleaners yesterday and the woman who helped us encouraged me to enjoy them while they're young.  Same thing today with Hudson running up to a random elderly lady at McDonald's.  It seems like every time I go out in public someone says that to me, usually with such wistfulness. "They grow up so fast." 

And in truth, I AM enjoying these days.  Yes, we are far busier than I thought we would be at this stage in life.  And no, the laundry and housework are never caught up to my satisfaction.  And yes, I am ashamed to admit that I can get angy over insignificant and trivial things.  And yes, there are times I am grateful to have Steve take them out into the back yard and wear them out a little while I bask in the silence.

But truly, in my heart, I love these days.  I love the 1001 weird questions that Karissa asks me every day.  I love the wet, sloppy kisses Hudson plants on my cheek.  Or my arm.  Or any available body part.  I love seeing Karissa get so excited about something she can barely spit it out.  Or the joy on Hudson's face when I come to get him on Sunday morning after two hours apart.

I love these kids.  Part of me is afraid that it will change.  That they will get hurt, or grow up, or, or, or . . .

And part of me knows it WILL change.  If none of my "worst fears" happen, they will at the very least become "all grown up."  (Karissa promises she will live in a pink house when this happens.)

But the other part of me says, "So what?"  So what if tomorrow is not as perfect as today?  If God sends hard things into our lives? If Karissa turns 4, and then 5, and then 6 (as she has threatened to do)?  So what? Even if the future is not the same as today, I can still enjoy today.  And by God's grace, I am choosing to do that.  Not perfectly.  But on purpose.  Even if I ruined a whole load of laundry and didn't get to the pharmacy and the children's patience wore out before my shopping was done and there are dirty dishes on my counter.  I had a wonderful day today. 

Thank you, God, for golden moments.  Thank you for gracing me with the task of raising Karissa and Hudson.  Thank you for their smiles and laughs, for ice cream sundaes and blue jello.  Thank you for using me to teach Hudson to come when I call and for allowing me the privilege of teaching Karissa that God made everything.  Thank you for putting me here now with these people.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many things can wait; the child cannot.
Now is the time his bones are being formed,
his mind is being developed.
To him, we cannot say tomorrow,
his name is today.

-Gabriela Mistral

Eat Your Noodles

Going to the playground was the hardest thing I did today.

No, taking my innocent 15-month-old son in his adorable short overalls wasn't hard.  It was walking away from the eyes of my three-year-old standing in the doorway.  She desperately wanted to come.  The last few bites of chicken and noodles sat mockingly a few feet away, reminding her of her choice to not finish eating her supper.  In the end, it was a very painful lesson for her.  Of course, being three, the pain will diminish over time.  The playground will still be there tomorrow.  Joy comes in the morning.  But I hope the lesson remains.  The lesson about choices, and their consequences.

But for me, the mom, the grief is felt on my side, too.  Holding my sobbing girl as we sat on the floor together, mourning the consequences of her choice.  If it had been ME making the choice, I would have chosen the path that led away from pain.

But God gives us the power to make our own choices.  He takes His sovereign hand and holds it back while wanting what is best for us.  Sometimes we choose not to eat our supper.  But when we do make that choice, His heart is grieved beyond comprehension.  And He is waiting, longing for us to run to Him for forgiveness and healing.  "Draw near to God, and He will draw near to you."  Joy comes in the morning.

You know that saying that goes, "This hurts me more than it hurts you"?  Well, that goes for God, too.  Our sin grieves Him more than it grieves us.  We didn't understand as kids what we know now as parents.  Let's strive together not to grieve our Heavenly Father, who loves us beyond our comprehension.

Reciprocated Love

My son loves me.  I mean, Hudson REALLY loves me.  I put a smile on his face, he finds comfort in my embrace, he protests (loudly) my physical removal from the room in which he resides.  He follows me up stairs, between rooms, clings to my legs while I walk from the sink to the stove.  His whole day is brighter when he lays eyes on me.  And do you know what?  I like it!  My sister says it’s payback for all the nights of interrupted sleep and countless diapers.  And, at fourteen months old, I know this level of expressing his love won’t last forever.  But still, I like it.

And God—who “needs” to be loved much less than I need it, is still delighted when we delight in Him.  He calls us to “draw near to” himself.  Psalm 37:4 urges us to “delight yourself in the Lord.”  Over and over in Scripture, there is the concept that God is glorified when we glory in Him.  We are commanded to love Him.  We are called to offer a “sacrifice of praise.”  Ours is not an unconditional love; indeed, it cannot be.  “We love Him because He first loved us.”

It’s so easy for Hudson to love me—he knows so little else at his tender age.  (Would that we could be less distracted by the lesser joys outside of Christ!)  Yet, if my baby’s joy makes me happy, wouldn’t I like to honor my Father-God by giving back the same kind of open love for Him that Hudson shows to me? “O magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His name forever!”

Unconditional Love

I started reading a parenting book today, and the first point the authors make is that love for our children must be unconditional.  That is, we should love them for who they are and not for what they do. 

I have watched my children receive this kind of love from their grandparents.  I watch these adults adore and pet my precious daughter, and let’s face it, a toddler isn’t going to win you over with her accomplishments.  But they LOVE her.  And it’s the kind of love that delights to be in the presence of the loved one.  Sure, they appreciate what she does.  When she reaches a milestone (say, putting her own toothpaste on her toothbrush), they cheer for her.  But they love her accomplishments because they love her.  When she walks into the room, they smile.  She is the most beautiful, most intelligent, most talented, most everything person BECAUSE she is loved. 

I want to love others that way.  True love does not have prerequisites.  Love opens us to hurt.  Yet when we are hurt by those we love, we have a source of healing: the Christ who loved us while we were yet sinners, the Christ who has been hurt by every human he ever loved.  Most two year olds are easy to love, but there are some people . . . . Still, we are commanded to love one another. 

When I see my little girl climb confidently into her grandmother’s lap—knowing she is loved, expecting to find love, basking in that love—then I want to be that source of love for others who are seeking a safe place.  

“Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things, endures all things. Love never ends.”

Let's Start at the Very Beginning

Hi! I’m simply another mom trying to raise her children in the shadow of God’s grace.  Living it, failing, getting back up, loving the tender moments when all is right with the world.

The purpose of this blog is to see our relationship to God the Father mirrored in the relationships of physical parents and children. Scripture repeatedly compares our Father-God to an earthly father.  “As a father shows compassion to his children, so the LORD shows compassion to those who fear him” (Psalm 103:13).  Matthew 7 talks about our natural desire to give good gifts to our children.  Our perfect God wants to and has the ability to top us on every level!

Part of the blog will focus on the “where I am” of my life.  First, there's Steve, my husband and best friend, then my beautiful three-year-old girl Karissa, and also a handsome Hudson who is one year old.  My paychecks aren’t made of the stuff you can invest in financial institutions.  But I feel so blessed to be doing the job God has given me for this chapter of my life—wife and mother.

No illustration is perfect, and I beg forgiveness now for any “leaps” I ask you to take.  I hope, however, to stimulate your thoughts and bring you to the nugget of truth in each post.  And as you see things in your own life, I hope you will feel free to share them!