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Daddy on the Road, Mommy on the Run
December 17, 2006
Only seven sleeps...
UNTIL CHRISTMAS EVE!!!!
HOOORAYYY!!!
I just LOVE Christmas Eve! There is something so precious, so sacred, so anticipatory about Christmas Eve.
Here's the thing: I understand that Jesus was likely born at another time in the year, but HE WAS BORN. We met friends in Africa who had no idea what their actual birthday was; there are literally thousands of orphans who do not know their birthdays. However, once these little ones (and big ones!) are adopted -- whether by a traditionally adoptive family or a spiritually adoptive family -- people surround them annually to celebrate their birth into this world.
So, as far as I'm concerned, Paul's instruction about "one man considers one day more holy than another, one man regards all days the same" covers our family's celebration of Christ's birth on December 25th.
We just want to celbrate HIM! Doesn't matter to us as much when as it does that we do. Make sense?
By Biblical accounts, it appears Jesus was born at night. Joseph & Mary unsuccessfully sought lodging and ended up in a stable. The shepherds were watching their sheep that night when the angel made the (literally) Glory-ous announcement.
So even if it didn't happen in the early morning hours of the 25th, that night before was spent in a stable, Mary in labor, Joseph serving as husband and midwife (and I'm guessing that wasn't a traditional role for Hebrew men), sheep and cows and oxen and mice all eating and noising about perfectly oblivious to the Deity born before them (well... all of nature cries out, so maybe they knew).
But this is why Christmas Eve is so very, very dear to me. What a sacredness accompanies His birth!
Now that I'm a mother, the thought of laboring in those conditions makes me shudder. The Eternal God -- Elohim -- our LORD chose to come in skin in a barn surrounded by straw, dirt, and critters.
WOW.
What a MIGHTY and MERCIFUL God we serve!
This Christmas Eve, I'm going to sit and wait, in anxious anticipation. I'm going to love on my babies and we're going to read Luke's account of Jesus' birth and act it out with the quilted Nativity scene and we're going to get EXCITED!!! We're going to bake His birthday cake and we're going to sing to Him twice -- once that night when we finish making the cake and again on Christmas Day to officially celebrate His birthday.
We sure do love birthdays around here; we celebrate BIG and we sure sing LOUD. And this year, we're going to be dancing and singing and eating and laughing at the BEST birthday party of all -- the One who made celebrations possible!
But before we get to that, we're going to huddle together by candlelight and firelight, read in hushed voices and anticipate.
I love Christmas Eve -- just waiting for Him, just waiting for the party, just waiting for His company.
Kind of like the other 364 days, isn't it? I'm just waiting for Him, for the wedding party, for His physical presence in my life.
Come, Lord Jesus, come! (And VERY happy birthday, too!!!) |
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December 2, 2006
Reflecting
My husband is in Singapore right now. He's worshipping right now, to be precise. He's 13 hours ahead of us, so he's gathering in fellowship & praise. I'm so excited for him because the whole group is serving with a church there for the next week. It's so exciting to hear all that God is doing in and through them; D's been able to call each day so far, and that's kept us up to date and feeling more involved.
My daughter is simultaneously cracking me up in the laughing sense and in the hug-me-jacket sense; she's decided that she doesn't really like sleep, it is apparantly overrated when you're 4, so she gets up in the middle of the night to talk to me. Seriously. It's like the worst form of retribution imaginable. All these years of personal verbosity have now spilled over into a generational revenge. I promise you, my sweet Mama is somewhere in Heaven clapping her hands and laughing out loud that I have given birth to one who might actually out talk ME. (And LORD, would you please tell my Mama that it is NOT FUNNY!)
LittleBit has been doing this for about 3 weeks now; not every night, but quite a few each week it seems. The night D left, she got up and wanted to know why my bathroom light was still on (hey, I like a nightlight, too!), last night she tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Mommy, are you still sleeping?" Ummm... well.... not now, I guess.... but I'd like to be!
Fortunately my son sleeps like I do -- point him to a bed (shoot, point him to something relatively horizontal), tell him goodnight, cut out all the lights, and LEAVE HIM ALONE. He can go to sleep in most any level chaos and prefers to wake up very, very slowly. This Thanksgiving, his cousins did test the boundaries of his sleep prowess; he was exhausted, hauled himself onto our bed, collapsed in a heap, and told me goodnight. The other little ones couldn't keep themselves out of the room long enough for him to conk out, so I went in to lay down with him and provide proper door policing. Then the little ones began making so much clatter in the next room that his eyes would fly open, completely glazed over and then slink back to bottom lids, only to be jolted open with the next wave of auditory abuse. He finally took my face in my hands and groggily said, "Mommy, tell them to STOP!"
I had to hold it together long enough to kiss his forehead and bolt out the door to do his bidding, then I laughed 'til I cried -- so did my Mom-in-law! Ah, that's my boy -- sleep is a priority!
You know, I love all this; the joys of having two completely different children, both of whom reflect distinct imprints of their mother and father. And it has helped give me some perspective on how we all fit together in the Body of Christ. As Beth Moore puts it in Breaking Free, "Once we fall in love with Christ, we are so taken with His beauty, we want children who look just like Him."
Don't we all LONG for this??? Children who look EXACTLY like their Heavenly Father?
I know I do! And while, in the context in which she wrote it, Mrs. Moore was speaking specifically to our "spiritual offspring" -- those falling into our realm of the "go and make disciples" command -- I'm at a place in life where my soul's desire is that my children be my primary discipleship assignment. God forbid that I fail to invite others to His table, that I lose the opportunities to help younger women learn how to walk out the easy yoke; but I would be worse than an infidel if I didn't see LittleBit, IttyBitty, and any others we're blessed with as just as in need of a Savior and just as hungry for His Word.
With that in mind, I'm trying to figure out exactly what elements of Him will each of them predominantly reflect -- will she continue to have His heart of mercy and compassion to the level she does now? Will he continue to grown in strength and wisdom this way? How do I -- as we're trying desperately to do an entire 2 weeks worth of grocery shopping at lunch time -- exemplify the patience, joy, determination, perseverance, and faith of Christ? How do I explain why waxing God's Truck (the Suburban He gave us; I'll explain another time) is an act of thanksgiving to Him and even worship? How do I do more than "survive" until D gets home so that they each grow to understand that truly, His commands are NOT burdensome?
See, people tell me all the time, "oh! she's just like you!" because LittleBit talks a lot -- A LOT! -- to anyone who will listen. She rarely meets a stranger and she's bothered by anyone who seems lonely. She reaches out to babies and smaller children and tries to involve them in play or provide for their care (this is not always expeditious as we're trying to get from the front of the children's Sunday School area where the infants are all the way back to her class). LittleBit loves to "act grown" and talk on the phone and tell her Daddy, "I just need this and then I promise I'm done." Girl sounds jus' like her Mama!
But it's "like" her Mama; she's NOT her Mama. And that's a good thing.
However, when it comes to her Heavenly Father, I see Him in her -- I see the mercy of Christ as she waves and calls to old ladies huddled intently over grocery carts in the store; His "come unto Me" as she coos and pats little hands and feet and says, "Isn't she so CUTE-EE?" while the infant is wailing in carseat, wriggling to be elsewhere. I see His unmerited favor as she runs after the very little girls in her class that rarely run after her. And I'm breathless with wonder at His compassion as she hands me her coat at pick up time and says, "Hold on jus' one minute, Mommy!" and hugs each child remaining in her class because, "I don't want them to be sad their Mommy isn't here yet."
Yes, there are lots of things she's seen me do, some she has an in-born natural proclivity to; but there's lots of things that only HE can produce; fingerprints only He could leave on a tiny soul.
My job is just not to smear them.
Some days, that's not an easy task. When D's gone, I struggle not to be the overly critical, intensely purposed Mommy-in-overdrive. What God plants in my children's hearts, they have to see lived out in me; I'm the most obvious example to them of what it means to love Him (that, and they hear me talk about it all the time). What they hear in the depths of their little hearts, what settles in as they hear and hide His Word, that precious faith is best concreted by a Mommy who loves it enough to live it too.
And part of living it is understanding that just as my children both reflect very defining elements of my personality, neither reflects all of me at one time nor do they each reflect in the same way. So it is with my brothers and sisters in the Body of Christ.
So it is with my husband, my family, my closest friends, my church family, my acquaintances, my colleagues, etc.
Paul said it -- there are many different parts, but only one Head.
Not to change from Scripture, but I think of it as all of us in a prism. The LORD is the prism -- without Him, it doesn't exist, and by & through Him, all of us hold together and have our being.
But each facet of a prism can reflect a different color of light.
You and I could be sitting next to each other in the prism and you could reflect a brilliant blue and I display a vibrant green. You and I could be sitting next to each other in church and you reflect Him in skillfull service and I display the hand of mercy.
We're both equal in value and responsibility and necessity in the Body.
We're just shining forth a different beam of Light.
(ok, that sounded uber cheesy... sorry)
I have to remember that nobody has to do it like me in order to do it right. (Why is that so hard to remember???) And my little ones need to see me cherishing those differences in order that they may cherish them too. Frankly, they need to see me cherishing those differences so that they know I will cherish their differences; I didn't get that growing up -- sorry, Mama -- and I've just now at 30-something broken free of the "we always save the grocery bags" thing (don't ask about how many others exist... there's much guilt to be assuaged in leaving our well-meant legalism behind).
So tonight, LittleBit has already been up once. She's cried and said she didn't want to dream (no matter how big a control freak I've ever been, chalk that up to one area I've yet to control in my quest to conquer the world). It's midnight. IttyBitty is so sound asleep, he didn't flinch or even sigh as she had her meltdown.
I cherish that my daughter longs to interact -- all the time. I cherish that my baby boy savors his rest.
And I doubly cherish that I have a Heavenly Father who delights in each way His children reflect Him and considers each to be precious in His sight.
Father, I don't understand You, but I love You. I'm not ashamed, here in the vast expanse of cyberspace, to pray that You will meet my baby girl where she needs You most -- we've prayed and prayed 2 Timothy 1:7, and I just don't know what to do from here. Forgive my selfish heart for so desperately wanting peace and rest; for feeling that I "deserve" it. And Father, You give richly to all, so I come once more to beg You for wisdom and mercy to know which way to go with her in this and how to lovingly attend to her needs.
And Father, THANK YOU that I'm not "right." Thank You that each of us can have a different calling in You and each be the delight of Your eye! What an immeasurable gift!!! Thank You that when You look at me, You see Your Son. Just as we see through a glass darkly and will someday see face to face, LORD, I'm asking that You continue to grow me so that You won't see Jesus through me darkly, but rather, face to face. It isn't easy, LORD; it's much easier to pray for revival -- to say the words, feel the stirring -- than it is to obey into the Promised Land. Please healeth Thou mine unbelief and grant me a strength that is not my own to walk in Your ways and teach these things to my children that (should You tarry long) they, my grand-children, and my great-grandchildren to a thousand generations will walk in them and love You more.
Ah, Jesus... how sweet You are! Thank You for... You.
Amen!
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December 1, 2006
Me in a list
You know what I've discovered?
I'm still not the cool kid.
Most things I try, need trying again.
I am so highly relational that 99% of all I do is done better talking on the phone.
My feelings aren't worn on my sleeve, they might actually be knitted into it.
I am not naturally organized.
I am naturally messy.
My desire to sleep late is virtually unaffected by an earlier bedtime.
I want to lose weight.
I want to exercise nada.
I like to eat.
The job I *thought* God was calling me to is not the job I have.
I may never have my *but I thought* job.
There are people in my life who make me very insecure.
I'm obnoxious and talkative when frightened.
I get scared easily.
Please note length of list.
My relationship with certain family members is not what it should be.
Certain family members means my dad.
My children are my greatest joy and my greatest weakness.
I need Cliff Notes on patience.
I don't want to work out my salvation with fear and trembling (especially in regards to gaining patience)
I prefer no work out at all.
Trying to mail a package to Indonesia will teach patience.
3 and 4 year olds can be convinced that they are picnicing in a UPS store for an hour.
Mailing a package to Indonesia takes about and hour and a half.
3 and 4 year olds have a way of producing fear and trembling.
I learned a lot about patience today.
Something really scary happened to our family over Thanksgiving.
I keep snatching it back off the altar.
It really is over.
I tend to hang onto things too long.
I have emotional and material baggage.
Refer to I am naturally messy.
There are several people I've lost that I miss sorely.
Many times I try to "shove" others into their place.
People don't do well when shoved.
The only persons' approval I really, really want I will probably never receive.
The way I want to see myself is likely an unattainable goal.
I am a perfectionist.
I tend to feel frustrated a good bit of the time.
I am married to a man with a pure spiritual gift of faith.
We tend to feel frustrated with each other at times.
My children have the spiritual gifts of faith and service.
I have other gifts and pray longer to have my family's level of faith.
God hears a lot about my frustrations.
I do a lot of talking to God.
I don't do as much listening to God.
Were He not God, He would probably feel frustrated with me a good bit of the time.
I don't always like who I am.
I'm not who I thought I was.
It doesn't matter what I think anyway.
Why? Because I have learned that
Forgetting what is behind, I can push forward to the goals He has set for me.
The LORD will fulfill His purpose for my life.
I only see through a mirror darkly; one day I will see face to face.
I hate mirrors.
I love the faces of loved ones.
I was born for a different world.
There is no height, nor depth, no principality, no darkness, no famine, persecution, sword, not anything in creation that could remove His love for me.
I am stunned silent by this thought.
Nothing is impossible with the God I serve.
Instantaneous, miraculous weight loss is unlikely.
I might keep praying.
He will likely keep laughing.
He and I get along well.
I have been given everything I need for life and godliness.
That is, for my life.
Not someone else's life.
I have my daily bread, from His hand, with His blessing.
I'm to share the Love, not the Lesson.
There's no obstacle I'm quaking over that He can't see past.
That sounds trite.
It makes me feel better.
He knows the end from the beginning.
Amen.
I know Who I believe, and I'm convinced He is able to keep all that I commit to Him against that day.
I look forward to that day.
I'd prefer it wait until my husband is home.
I miss D, sorely.
He is doing what the LORD has called him to do.
There is peace in the midst of His will; He promises.
Peace -- not silence.
Peace -- not stillness.
Peace -- not solitude.
The LORD looks with compassion at my ruins, and He will make the deserts in my soul like springs of water, "Joy and gladness will be found in her, thanksgiving and the sound of singing."
The LORD is my Rock and my salvation, of whom shall I be afraid?
I am accepted in the Beloved.
That's more important that "their" acceptance.
I find healing in that.
He has hidden me in the clefts of the Rock.
I am hidden in Christ and I no longer live but Christ lives in me.
The life I live here, in my body, I live by faith in the Son of God who loves me and gave Himself for me.
It feels good when I take care of this body.
My relationship with Him is by the gift of faith, not of works, I will never be able to boast.
But if I do boast, may it only be in the LORD Jesus Christ, my salvation.
I will boast -- not about Him -- left to my own devices.
He never leaves me or forsakes me.
I don't do as much boasting anymore.
We are more than conquerors through Him who loves us.
We have been given exceedingly, abundantly beyond all we could ask or imagine.
We are a thankful family.
My mouth will pour forth His praise.
Blessing and cursing cannot come from the same place.
My motivation for a God-honoring mouth isn't a "Don't do" list.
My motivation is a "He has done" list.
It's easier to be a clean-ie with this list.
Behold! He is doing a new thing in me! Old things have passed away, all things have become new.
Changed from Glory to Glory I am.
One little bit at a time.
I will never battle the stronghold of laziness or messiness the way I did before Thanksgiving.
There is praise to be given to Him for the subtle -- and not so subtle -- ways He is changing me.
Said changes may not result in *but I thought* jobs.
Said changes will result in new opportunities.
No eye has seen nor ear has heard nor mind has conceived of what He has prepared for those who love Him.
He has good works planned -- in advance -- for us to do.
This includes mailing certain packages to Indonesia.
He doesn't just prepare for the cool kids.
He doesn't care how many friends I have.
He does long to fill my cup with good things that I may pour it out again.
I'm ready to be a pitcher, not a vase.
I'm not who I thought I was -- "I'm not who I'm going to be, but thank God I'm not what I was either."
There is freedom in Christ.
Oh LORD, such tremendous freedom!
Thank You, I am humbled...
Amen
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November 5, 2006
At 4pm today, we sat huddling on bleachers watching our football team.
They were crying.
We were crying.
No championship, no great win.
An untimely loss.
We paid tribute to a 16 year old who had everything to live for, who'd been given a clean bill of health on Monday and went Home to Jesus in the early morning hours Thursday.
It is devastating.
This tiny school, made up of homeschooling families of all walks of life and all reasons for being there, has suffered 6 great losses in 5 years.
I have no response for all this. No answers, not even prayers, just tears and "let my words be few."
My heart has been so heavy for about a week now; this student's death and the raw hurts of his classmates, teachers, staff -- our whole little homeschooling family -- comes at a time when I'm already "feeling weak" though "walking strong."
But it's so, so hard not to live by my feelings.
What broke my heart the most was seeing my dear friends on that field, sitting with the team and the family, having lost their own son to senseless violence less than four months ago. Amazing people with a God-given strength to stand in the midst of their own pain and tragedy.
Lord, You are worthy to be praised! You are holy and sovereign, You are our very great reward. You know the end from the beginning, and You are precious Abba holding us close. Please dry this family's tears; please comfort our students and answer their questions with the peace and reality of Your presence. Please heal the hearts of the staff who long to be strength for these students but ache on their own as well. Please be so close to his friends, his parents, his brothers and sisters. Truly, Your ways are higher than ours and You are the Author and Perfector of our faith, and our lives. Jesus, once again, I repent of my selfish doubts and desire for comfort or explanation. Please heal my unbelief. I don't have to understand the reasons, but I long to understand the Redeemer. I do love You so! And I echo the honest prayer of the Redman's:
Blessed be Your name
In the land that is plentiful
Where the streams of abundance flow
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be Your name
When I'm found in the desert place
Though I walk through the wilderness
Blessed be Your name
Every blessing You pour out, I'll
turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say...
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be Your name
When the sun's shining down on me
When the world's 'all as it should be'
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be Your name
On the road marked with suffering
though there's pain in the offering
Blessed be Your name
Every blessing You pour out, I'll
turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I will say...
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord Blessed be Your name
Every blessing You pour out, I'll
turn back to praise
When the darkness closes in, Lord
Still I'm gonna say...
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your name
Blessed be the name of the Lord
Blessed be Your glorious name
You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Lord Blessed be Your name
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October 21, 2006
In 40 years
(many, many thanks to Holly for sharing what the Lord revealed to her in this; after reading her post, I had to write. Thank you, Holly!)
It's quiet here, apart from your tiny snores and sweet-sleep mumbles.
Today's been such a good day -- you each got to do special things,
LittleBit had her Girls' Day and IttyBitty and I had a whole afternoon
together. You talked to Daddy on the phone, we played on the
floor and ate eggs for dinner and sang silly songs to your heartily
pounded piano tunes. We laughed and cuddled before bed time, we
read Christmas in the Barn -- again -- and you finished the lines as I started them.
And you were perfect... both of you... perfect...
Sometimes, I am completely overwhelmed by the gift that God gave me
when He gave me each of you. I can't remember a more joy-filled,
gracious, merciful time in my life; you fill my days with your own
precious wonder. As I hear you sing and laugh and pray and sing
some more, I think I'd like these years to last a little longer.
There are tears in my eyes as I try to imagine what life will be like
in forty years -- honestly, I think our Bridegroom is coming to get us
before then, but should His plan be to wait longer, I'm just stumped.
In forty years, you'll likely have children of your own -- HOORAY!!! --
and ministries and careers and homes. And I pray that over these
next 40 years, you and I will share relationship with Christ and with
each other that blesses you with comfort and confidence to pick up the
phone and ask me anything because you know that I will always try to
help, and I will always absolutely pray. Better yet, I hope that
you can come next door or stop at the house on your way home to chat or
drop off a grand-angel for the night. I want so badly to BE THERE
for you and support you as tangibly and spiritually as possible.
And I know that must begin by BEING HERE.
I don't always do a stellar job; so often I feel exhausted. But
don't you ever doubt for one minute -- I am the HAPPIEST tired person
in the world! You are worth every effort and energy God gives
me! And I love you, oh, my little ones, how I love you!
So if the journey of a thousand miles begins with one step, then a
journey of forty years begins with a day... and if I've never told you,
please know that the day you were born, I understood that my whole life
had been a mere dress rehearsal for that moment -- and each one that
followed. We are not far into our journey, my sweet ones, but I
have loved every step and I cherish the ones that lay before us.
In forty years, may we worship together in the house of the Lord and
thank Him that we have truly seen His goodness; and, rejoicing, may we
meet together afterwards at a shared table surrounded by generations
that seek Him and adore each other.
You are important to me... you are SO important to me!
Oh, God, thank You for my babies! You know all too well what it
feels like to love someone so much that it hurts; You know it far
better than I. So I fall at Your feet and one more time beg You
to bless my children with Your presence all over their lives. I
love You, Lord.
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