I.M.H.O.

In My Humble Opinion...

(how well do you know your internet acronyms??)

I've had some questions over the years on how we do family worship (devotions, Bible time, etc).  While I think it looks different in every family and there is certainly not any "right" way to do it, I believe it's so important to gather as a family and worship the Lord together.  It brings a "way-far-out-there-God" into our personal lives and also allows us to share our hearts with our children... to let them see our brokenness and need for a Savior, and also our love-affair with our Heavenly Father.

When Travis is here, he tries to get some time with the children in the Word, but more often than not, he's simply not present for a formal time of family worship.  Which means, that time is usually left for me.  It's not ideal and not even really how we would desire it (we really would love for Travis to lead this time), but it's our lot in life... so we work with it.

Simply because I always am looking for fresh new ideas, especially good books, for time with my children, I thought I'd share our routine and the books we use.  

FAMILY WORSHIP UTENSILS:

++ We begin off our time by gathering on the couch.  When the children were younger,

it was simply a 5-10 minute period, teaching them to sit still beside me and listen.

Now that they've learned that, we open to our memory passage and review the verses.

Right now, we're memorizing Proverbs 2.  

We take one verse a week, and go over it day by day.

I usually make up some sort of hand motions or voice inflections to make it stick,

and the girls are always surpassing me in their ability to memorize.

++ We then read from either the Bible, or a children's Bible.

These are the two we enjoy:

The Jesus Storybook Bible

Classic Bible Storybook

While I think both are excellent, I found it nice to have a variation

(especially after you've read through both multiple times).

++ My kids like to read. A LOT.  So, when the Bible stories are short,

or they simply want more, we love to supplement with the "Miller" books:

My parents read these to us while in our younger years. 

The stories are about a Mennonite family who uses experience and story

to help their four children grow in wisdom, prudence, etc.

Storytime with the Millers is a perfect one for younger children (2-5 years). 

We also have Wisdom with the Millers.  The girls have nearly out-read these

so I think we should be buying the others soon.

++ We end the time with song-singing and prayers.

I copied my sister's idea of choosing a new hymn every month,

alphabetically ("A" hymn for January, "B" for Feb, etc),

so right now, we're on "D", since we began in December.

Again, it's amazing how quickly things are engrained in the children's

minds and hearts by simply repeating daily.

And that's that!  Do you have any good book reviews or ideas that you implement??

the disciples and Christmas

When I was young (like in high school and college young), I used to berate the disciples of Jesus.  I used to think how blind and hard-headed those were on whom He performed miracles.  How could anyone doubt that He was the Son of God?  Why were the disciples continually afraid?  They had JESUS there, before their very eyes, and they were still so simple-minded.

I don't think this way anymore.

The older I get (and heaven knows I'm still as young a whippersnapper as there ever was), I realize life is so big.  And things that I once thought very easy, seem very hard.  Even this post, for example.  I've been wanting to write it for a few days now, but as soon as afternoon rolls around, my brain can't even conjure up what it was exactly that seemed so crucial just the morning before.

Lately, it's been Jesus.  I've loved Jesus since I was a little girl.  I've believed in Him for as long as I can remember.  I watched my mom and dad live out what it looks like to love and follow Christ.  I've seen my dad weep over his love for the Lord.  I've worked through so many tough conversations with my mom about what it means to be a Christ follower.  I went to a Christian college and grew deeply in my faith.

But it's been hard for a few years now.  Maybe since I began having kids.  Maybe since I got married.  I'm not sure when, but all the beliefs I held somehow stopped ringing true.  They still are true.  I know that with all my being.  But, the precious beliefs I hold to simply became words.  I struggle to describe what I feel other than having a veil over my eyes.  It's like I know what's behind that veil - beauty and love so deep and peace and truth - but for some reason, it's very cloudy and murky.  And I'm holding on with all my strength.  At times, I have no strength, and then I realize, it's Him holding on to me.

Travis and I struggle through it often.  We spoke the other night about Christmas.  And how, as we're preparing to enter into this beautiful, amazing, MIRACULOUS time of year with our children, we sense a lack of wonder in ourselves.  That Christ came down and took on flesh to BE SIN for us.  We asked the girls one night why Jesus came to earth.  Bella's answer rolled quickly off her tongue: "To save us from our sins."

And it was in that moment that I hated our ability to view something so great, so lightly.  To know the incredible GOD of the universe and yet, view Him with apathy.  Granted, she's five and just saying what she knows.  I pray with all my being, God will reveal Himself to her personally one day.  But, she revealed my own heart.  My own quick-answering spirit.  And it was then that I realized I was just like the disciples, the Pharisees in Jesus' day.  I have the Savior of the world right before me, yet I can't wrap my head around Who He is.  I don't believe that He's come to save me.  How can that be?  How can a God love someone who is as blind and foolhardy as me?

In the midst of my writing and pondering, my mom sent me this video.  How poignantly perfect it fits with what I'm battling through.  I must share:

And this I know: whether you grew up like I did, with the truth being poured into my small soul like a constant flow; or broken and hurting like Lacey, He is a pursuing God.  He will not leave us to our veiled-eyed selves, but will do whatever it takes to grab our hearts.  Even send His own Son to take on flesh and dwell among us.  

two recs

Two things I feel deserve recommendations:

(1) The Honest Company.  Have you heard of them?  I had, but hadn't given them much thought, until my sister introduced me to their diapers while we were in California.  While I'm not crazy into all the natural products and stuff, if given the chance to buy items with less "chemicals" and unknown ingredients in them, I will.  Here's why we're now using Honest diapers:

via www.honest.com

- The patterns/designs on the diapers are adorable.  To say that's what got me interested in the diapers is maybe shallow, but true.  Can't beat looking at cute diapers, especially when you're changing up to 8x per day.

- When you buy a package of diapers, the company gives diapers to those in need.  I like that concept.

- The Honest Company's website can explain this much better, but basically their diapers are a lot "cleaner" than ones you buy at the store.

- THEY DELIVER.  As a mother of three children now, things are different.  Mothering one and two children wasn't "easy", per se, but I still felt like I had down time.  Doing errands wasn't too much of a trouble, etc.  I would actually use "needing diapers" as an excuse to get out of the house and go to Target.  Now??  Different.  Having three makes me feel like a full-time mom.  Like, really, this is my real life.  There isn't down time.  Errands aren't really "fun", anymore.  I don't mean this to sound bad, it's just that three has bumped it all up a notch.  I love it.  It's full and I love my life.  But, if someone's going to offer to deliver diapers to me??  LOVE it.

- They bundle.  Meaning, I get 7 packs of diapers and 4 packs of wipes.  Per month.  Delivered.  BAM.  Mark that chore off my list.

Sooo... if you're diapering a child, make sure to check out this company.  Of course, the website can explain more, etc., but I figured I'd help a sister out and pass along the goods!  If you ARE going to order, do me a favor and order from this recommendation from me!  It gives me some dollars off my next order!

(The diapers, if you're interested, seem similar in feel/weight/texture to Target brand diapers.)

(2) Can a Mother Forget?  This sermon by Tim Keller was really poignant.  If you ever struggle with knowing that God loves you, but not feeling it, this sermon might encourage you.  I could go into a lot of detail sharing part of my story in this area, but right now, the babe is waking and the kids need me.

Just know that while I was cleaning my bathroom last night, I played this sermon and was moved by the beauty that is God's love for us.  It's around 35 minutes and completely worth every minute.

our good is His plan (& more pics from our trip)

 Our AC went out yesterday.  When the repair man came, he saw that the unit was one big block of solid ice.  While he's trying to explain to me how long it's going to take to thaw out, Summer was taking Bella's toys - causing Bella to scream - and Rhett was needing to be nursed.  Meanwhile, I'm sweating uncontrollably in my sweltering home.  Dinner needed to be fixed, Trav came home with bad deployment news, and all around it was just a sucky day.  In the midst of all the chaos, I thought I heard the AC repair man say that I could keep the air on and soon I would feel cool air come through the vent.

Fast forward to today.  The repair man stops by to see how the unit is thawing out.  Immediately when he enters the house he says, how long has the air been on?

"Uhhh... I turned it on last night??"  NOOOOO..... the FAN can remain on.  The air must be off in order for the unit to thaw.  Cue banging head against wall.  One of those moments where you feel like a complete doofus.  I should have known that.  I should have done the math in my head... but life was a hubbub of a mess and I was distracted and... well, here we are.  Still sitting in a warm oven of a house.  My fault.

******

We had orientation today for the homeschooling group we're going to be apart of this year.  It was good for me to go and wrap my head around what we'll be starting in a week.  I will be using the next couple days of nap times to organize the "school room" and set up some sort of schedule.  I hope to make some good friends through this community.  Once again, it's always hard to be the "new girl."  Many young women all chatting happily and as I was going up to meet a woman that looked to be a potential friend, another woman ran up and hugged her.  "My best friend!!  So glad we'll be together this year!" she exclaimed.

Best Friend.  Why is it so hard for me?  Much of me feels jealous of these women that get to stay put and put down roots and have their children grow up together.  I want a local best friend... heck, I just want a good friend.  It'll come.  Lord willing, we will make good friends.  It just takes time, I know.  Until then, I'll keep pushing myself out of my introverted box.

******

Through these two things (and multiple snippets throughout my days), I really find myself struggling with the truth of Romans 8:32 - 

He who did not spare His own Son but gave him up for us all, how will he not also with him graciously give us all things?

If God didn't even spare His own Son - His own SON - to redeem us and love us and make us His own, won't He then give us only what is good for us?  The lack of AC, the deployment, the moving and ever-changing military lifestyle... all these are gifts for OUR GOOD from our Sovereignly Loving Father.  

I had to preach it to myself (and my husband) last night as we lay on our sheets, trying to catch every whip of air that the fan provided.  And I had to preach it to my lonesome self today.  And I foresee having to preach it to myself often in the future.  He will only give us GOOD.  Not easy, not appealing, not always what we want... but Good.  For He is good.

NOW can I have it??

On Sunday, our pastor was speaking on prayer.  He said something to the effect that, the promises of God are in the Bible to cause us to seek Him more.  Yet, we often do the opposite.  We read, "I will never leave you nor forsake you," and we think Oh, okay.  So, if He promises that, I can just kinda live life on my own.  And we often do.  We live life thinking we can get by without daily communion and petitioning for aid and strength.  Oh, we'll go to Him with the "big" stuff, but the little, daily mundane prayers?  Na...

Immediately, I resonated.  I have not been in much prayer lately.  In fact, the Word has been distant from me.  In many areas of life, recently, I feel as though I know all the correct verses, phrases, prayers, right answers... but do they feel real to me?  Do I live them?  Do I love and cherish them?  No.  And much of me feels lost on how to return back to connecting my head with my heart.

Prayer can be one of those ways.  Prayer is such a practical way of admitting our dependence.  In a world that hails independence and self-made strength, prayer is the exact opposite.  It's begging God for help.  For comfort.  For wisdom.  It's admitting I have no idea what I'm doing... can you help?  Better yet, can you take this from me and allow me to do it in YOUR strength?

Also immediately, my Bella June came to mind.  She, along with many 4-year olds, has a way of repeating herself and her requests until they are heard.  Often, our first encounter with this is in the morning, at breakfast.  The girls love orange juice and they only get one cup a day - at breakfast.  The request starts early, often from the moment they rise.  But, I make them wait, as always, til breakfast.  That doesn't stop Bella from "hinting" that she wants orange juice, that she NEEDS orange juice.  "Can I have some now, Mama?  I just looove orange juice!"

Just wait, I tell her.  I told you I'll get you some.  Trust me.
And as I set their cereal bowls on the table, and grab their spoons... "I just can't wait for my orange juice!  Can I have some now, Mama?  Is it time?"
They plop into their booster seats and thank the Lord for their food.  And in between bites, "Mama, can we have some orange juice???"

Often, I get frustrated.  I take longer some days so I can teach her patience.  I want her to know that if I said I will get it for her, I will get it for her.  I want her to eventually ask once, because that is the socially acceptable way to behave.  We ask once, and then wait.  If you ask too many times or too frequently, you may look needy... and as we all know, needy is bad.

But in the Gospels, Christ spells out a different scenario.  Over and over again, with parables and teachings, He tells us to ASK.  He implores us to implore Him.  We are needy.  We do need Him. Through my daughter, I'm reminded that there's no "socially acceptable" way to interact with God. He wants us to want Him; He wants us to be as little children.

I've begun praying that way for this little one inside me.  Please, Father, allow him/her to come quickly!  Now!  Today!  Is it time yet?  Allow my body to move... don't forget about us...  I'm not sure how He'll answer me.  I'm not sure why he's allowed my mother-in-law to be in town, yet allowed the baby to stay inside.  But, I'm begging for a birthday.  Through the begging, I come to rest in the fact that He knows all and He controls all.  So I will rest.

Bella's wish and other stories

Last night, as we were driving home from our small group, Bella spied the Wishing Star.  "Ooohhhh!  I see the Wishing Star!  I'm going to make a wish!  Star light, star bright, first star I see tonight.  I wish I may, I wish I might, have this wish I wish tonight."  Then she squeezed her eyes tight and clasped her hands to her chest and breathed, "I wish I had a pony.  And a Barbie doll.  And a kitten.  And..... LOTS of candy, well... and lots of healthy food, too."

"That's a lot of wishes," Trav commented.

"Oh!  And, I wish I had a boy." She giggled.

"A boy?" we asked.

"Yeah, you know, like the kind you marry."

+++++++

There are a lot of lizards down in these parts of Florida.  Like, ev.er.y.where.  And yesterday, after we got home from small group, there was a large one hanging out on our kitchen wall.  Trav tried to catch it, but it raced all over and eventually found a hiding spot in our laundry room/sewing room.  As far as I know, it's still in there.  And um... I'm not really fond of that whole idea.

+++++++

My dolled-up front porch -
using the resources I had.

Yesterday, I had one of those pity party moments (hours).  It came after I scoured the house: tons of loads of laundry - washed, dried, folded and put away; vacuumed; mopped; scrubbed the kitchen; cleaned linens; returned phone calls, etc.  And then, I meal planned and grocery shopped, only to have the other three people living here beg to go out to eat.  Then I swept and cleaned up the front porch and made it look cute.  And you know what??  No one notices.  No one cares.  Except me, of course.

I was doggone tired.  My back hurt from cleaning and folding and bending over.  My patience was worn thin from reminding little hands "No touch" in stores and reminding little lips "No whining."  My body was tired from being sat on, kicked (by the baby), climbed over and when Trav wanted to hug and kiss when he got home... NO WAY.  Hands off!  Everybody needs me, but no one appreciates me!!!! 

Fortunately, my Mama called right in time for me to get those yucky, self-centered lies off my chest, but also to vent to someone who (oh heavens, does she!) understands.  And I was able to capture a few moments with my all-knowing Lord and just shed a few exhausted tears before the girls awoke from nap times.  And you know what?  When Bella knocked over her cereal bowl this morning and all the milk splashed to freshly mopped floor... my Heavenly Father so graciously put this verse in my mind: "Give thanks in all circumstances..." (1 Thess. 5:18).  And I was grateful it was in the morning, when my back doesn't hurt as badly and I don't mind bending over as much.  Sometimes, I realized as I stared at that milk and cereal on the ground, I need to be humbled and lowered.  And if milk on the freshly mopped floor will do it (and it will), I will give thanks for my humility-in-the-making.

+++++++

I brought my girls to the dentist today.  Summer's first time, and Bella's third "try" (every other time, she's absolutely FREAKED out).  Both girls did phenom.  And I surprised myself by getting a little weepy.  I never have cried about the girls growing up.  I don't get emotional about those things.  But... Bella told me that I could be with Summer instead of her, because she was fine.  And Summer was just this little fart, sitting in that big chair, chatting away... and I found myself tearing up.  My two sweet girls.  So big.  And then the hygentist had the nerve to recommend some stupid gel to put on Summer's finger to get her to stop sucking it and I about stuck my tongue out at her.  Summer can suck her finger as long as she wants!!  She's my baby and I love that she sucks her finger!  And then, she told me that Bella should be losing teeth fairly soon, and I just about stuck my tongue out again at her.  My other baby!!  These children of mine will need me forever and they will always have baby teeth and suck their fingers!!  Oh... the irony and idiosyncrasies and dichotomies of motherhood.  I don't understand myself many-a-time.

futility and why we rejoice at Christmas

These last weeks, I've been burdened with the futility of life.  In other words, I've been feeling very Ecclesiastes-ish.  Knocking knuckles with ol' King Solomon.  Nothing can get me down more than feeling like my work is meaningless.  Take a few examples:

(1) I spend hours meal planning, shopping, cooking... only to have Summer the children tell me it's yucky food, Summer gagging over every bite we force down her gullet, and the meal to be finished in a matter of minutes.
(2) I spend all afternoon scrubbing the toilets, sinks, scraping hardened toothpaste out of random surfaces, only to have Travis' shavings sprinkled on the counter the next morning, and Bella's spit from brushing teeth sprayed all over the mirror.
(3) I vacuum and pick up toys, only to have crumbs and food spilled.  Milk and water sloshed.  Toys spattered every which way after nap time ends.
(4) Travis and I sweat over hard conversations Sunday evening and battle to get on the same page, only to have the work week wipe him out with 14+ hour days and rendering us in the same position we found ourselves last weekend.

Futility.  Does anything I do matter?  And what does this have to do with Christmas?

I was thinking that very thing today.  Or rather, what does Christmas have to do with my every day life?  Because I know it should matter to my everyday life.  My monotonous, futile life.  And here's a few reasons why I reminded myself it matters:

(1) Because it gives me a hope of something greater.  I think of the people that came before Christ.  How they had to wait and wait and WAIT for even just a prophet to speak from God.  They had the hope of a Messiah, but still, He had not come.  And then there was the 400 years between Malachi and the birth of Christ.  Emmanuel's birth gives me hope, that although this life may be futile, He has come and overcome this world.  There is something more.

(2) Christmas, and all the events leading up and surrounding it, showcase one important memo: God chooses and uses unimportant, "meaningless", lowly people -such as myself - to get His story told.  Think of Mary, Bethlehem, the shepherds, etc.  Nobody important, no big town, no high-ranking people.  This shows me He can (and does and will continue to) use me and my ho-hum, futile life.

(3) Lastly, my mind is brought to the stanza in "O Little Town of Bethlehem":

Yet in thy dark streets shineth

the Everlasting Light

The hopes and fears of all the years

are met in thee tonight.

"The Nativity" by Rembrandt

Every hope and fear, from Adam and Eve to the unborn baby in my womb, was met that dark night 2000+ years ago.  Because HOPE was born.  Hope that there is something more than just this life.  And if we love Him, that baby lying in a manger, we live to showcase that hope.  

So, may you showcase that hope through your futile life.  May we showcase it to our children, to the grocer, to our neighbors, to our co-workers, to all we come in contact with.  Christmas is not futile, no, not ever.

for your weekend

Travis and I like to find interesting/thought provoking/encouraging sermons/videos to watch together.  It helps create conversation/topics/thoughts flowing between us.  This video we watched tonight.  It's not a sermon, yet it's well worth a half an hour of your time, if you like to do the same as we.

kid conviction

At some point during this past week, amidst all our driving, Trav and I got in a tiff.  I'm not sure what about exactly, except that I was bugged at him and he was bugged at me.  And I was 100% right and he was 100% right.  And neither one of us was backing down.  Which resulted in a heavy silence in the car.  He, staring at the road, both hands on the steering wheel; me, glaring out my passenger window.

Then, a little songbird began her sweet melody in the backseat.  A innocent, lovely voice singing,

My heart was black with sin

Until the Savior came in.

His precious blood, I know,

Has washed me white as snow.

And in His Word I'm to-ooold

I'll walk the streets of go-ooold.

To grow each final day,

I'll read the Bible and pray.

After singing the same song three times, her little voice asked, "Mama?  Do you love God?"

*grimacing* "Yes, Bella.  I do, although it doesn't show very much, does it.?"

"Why, Mama?  Why do you love God?"

"Well, because He died for me and loved me enough to save me from my sinful heart."

"YES!" I can hear her smiling. "Yes, I love Him too.  Because God thinks everyone is special.  And ALL have sinned, but God still loves them and thinks everyone is special.  But ALL have sinned.  But that's why Jesus had to come, to die and save us from our sins.  And so I love Jesus, too."

Thank you, Father, for our children.  Our little child-convictors that pierce my heart and sin with their pure, unashamed love.  With their simple questions and ability to apply truth in all circumstances.  And thank You, Father, for washing me white as snow.

a shift

It's always my goal to rise before my children and spend time with my God in prayer.  It doesn't happen nearly as much as I wish.  Today, it did.  I crave the sweet, quiet time - bowing before the Almighty, offering my concerns, my failures, my hopes, my anxieties.

As I prayed for my husband this morning, I said something along the lines of,

"Help me grow in love towards him.  Help me change in the way I view him and accept him."

I often have to fight to keep my attention when I pray, and after I spoke the words above, I wondered: What do I really mean?  How do I expect God to work a shift in my perspective towards this man I live with, love with, do life with?

How was I going to see God working that prayer today?  Do I expect a radical, instant change in my heart to automatically and unconditionally love Travis (or anyone)?  If the end of the day comes, and I was short-fused with my husband, bugged at his late hours, or judgmental over the way he does things... do I charge these attitudes with an un-listening, un-answering God?  

As if on cue (which He always is), God brought forth James 1:2-4 to the forefront of my mind:

"Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.  And let steadfastness have its full effect, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking in nothing."

A shift in perspective.  Suffering = growing.  Suffering = changing.

And that's something we all have plenty of.  Suffering is ever present.  Trials of various kinds are sprinkled throughout our day.  We don't have to go looking for trials, do we?  They are everywhere, enticing us to give up, give in, blow a fuse.  And yet, beautifully, that is how God will help me grow in love towards my husband.  Trials.  Suffering.  Steadfastness.  Perfect and complete.

It's all a shift in thought, isn't it?  Sprinkled throughout our day, like sprinkles on a cupcake.  Little opportunities, inviting us to grow, to change.  May you be reminded today of His plan for your life.  And may you seize opportunities to move towards "perfect and complete, lacking in nothing."

how to make a deployment count

This deployment has been one of my favorites, as favorite as deployments can go.

There were a couple of factors inducing this opinion:
- it's summertime
- my girls are old enough to have fun & sleep through the night
- we all were healthy

But, this deployment also yielded much fruit.  For the first time in many years, I sense that the veil that has been over my heart and eyes has been lifted.  I know our family has been bathed in prayer since this deployment began, and I don't underestimate the power of prayer.  Travis has been surrounded by Godly men, strong men, honest and open men while out in the desert.  I have had time to be in the Word, Godly family surrounding me, books to guide me.  I also have been memorizing.

I wish I could say memorizing Scripture was one of my strong suits, but it isn't.  In fact, it's a chore.  But these past 3 months, it has been my joy and turned my heart towards the Truth in more than one instance.  I've found that memorizing isn't hard to do, if you simply CHOOSE to do it.  It's, more often than not, a choice of whether I took those 15 minutes to work on my verses or spend time on the internet.

My aunt and I memorized Isaiah 55 together.  It's a gem to have hidden in my heart, and I'm so grateful I do.

I also try and work with our girls on memorizing.  I've picked a few passages over the past months that we work on daily, or almost daily.  I have no special recipe for this, except I break down the passage into small chunks and make up hand motions.  We go over it and over it until they (namely, Bella) has it down.

And because I think simply seeing others do gives motivation for me to do, here are Bella's and my memory verses.  Pick a passage, small or large, and commit it to memory.  You won't regret it.  God's Word is active, and like it says in Isaiah 55, "it shall accomplish that for which I [He, God] purpose."

(I picked Hebrews 13:5-6 for the children to memorize because we were

struggling with a bout of the "I want it!"'s and I wanted contentedness

to be on our lips and in our hearts.  It has worked well to have this

one memorized, as we use it quite often while in stores and whatnot.)

"Keep your life free from love of money,

and be content with what you have,

for He has said,

"I will never leave you, nor forsake you."

So we can confidently say, 

"The LORD is my helper, I will not fear.

What can man do to me?"

"God is everywhere!"

"Mom, do you want to know something?" she asked excitedly.
"Yes, I sure do," I said.  I love when these questions come out of her mouth.

"Mom, did you know that God is everywhere??" she waves her arms around her little body.

"Well, yes, I did, Bella.  Who told you that?"

"Auntie Kate told me.  In Charlotte's little church last week.  She said that God was with Jonah when he was in the belly of the big fish.  And He's EVERYWHERE!  And He's even with us now in this car!"

"Yes, yes... He is, Bella.  And that's why I love Him.  Just like the verse we learned, Hebrews 13:5 'I will never leave you, nor forsake you.'  He is always with us."

"Ya.  And He's always with us... even when bery, BERY bad things happen to us.  Even when it's dark and scary.  Even if you gets blood on you... and a band-aid, God is there with you, Mama.  He is."

And then my heart swelled.  With love for that little girl.  And the truth poured into her life.  And her ability to slowly soak it in.  And with love for God - that He is always with us.  Even when it's dark and scary.


We're headed to CHLA on Monday to meet up with her surgeon.  I hope she can remember that God is with her always, as she is deathly afraid of doctors.  If you notice the the above picture, she has broken blood vessels around her eyes from screaming her head off while getting her blood taken for allergy testing.  God will be with us on Monday, and we shall not be afraid.

Mother's Day 2012

(Self-portrait attmept.
Love how the coloring goes: light-medium-dark.)

Motherhood is a emotional thing.  In one sense, I want to celebrate and exclaim, "I'm a MOTHER!!!" to the world.  Yet, because this world is imperfect and full of sin and heartache, I hesitate.  I have a few close friends that are currently struggling with infertility.  A few friends that have had babies die - either in the womb or freshly delivered.  A few friends that have had one child, but can't seem to get pregnant again.  A few friends that would love nothing more than to be married and a bear children, but that opportunity isn't presenting itself either.

When I think about them, those dear friends of mine, I look at my lot of two beautiful girls and I wonder, "Why me?"  Why was I blessed so?  What I'm coming to understand, though, is that through suffering God captures our hearts.  One may look at another's suffering and want theirs instead of their own, but only God knows to what extent He needs to go to win their heart for His own.  Suffering is to be embraced, but oh how difficult that is.

All this to say, I'm grateful to be a mother.  I fully accept these children as blessings and undeserved gifts.  Travis and I would love more children, but even if God says "No," I choose to see how rich I am already.  Two sweet souls, under our care and guidance.  Two sets of lips to kiss goodnight.  Two sets of beautiful eyes to connect with.  In addition, I'm thankful for our own two mothers, whose parenting tools I follow about 90% of the time.  Thank you, Mama and Mom F., for all you've given us.

Happy Mother's day.

a momentary marriage

"The beauty of the covenant-keeping love between Christ and His church shines brightest when nothing but Christ can sustain it."

- John Piper, This Momentary Marriage

I was gently reminded this morning that because my marriage is difficult (whether by circumstances or personalities or stubbornness on my part), therein lies the beauty of it all.  The most beautiful marriage is the very one that would fail without Christ, and yet, with Christ succeeds and flourishes.

seventy-seven

The trouble with growing up in a Bible-believing home is you automatically know all the right answers.

The trouble with knowing all the right answers is that you very often don't have to search for God.

The trouble with never having to search for God is that you don't get to experience the joy and pleasure of finding Him.

+++++

(Because I love bed pictures.  Especially with a Sleeping Beauty on it.)

Without being too overtly obvious, today is OUR turn.  Today marks #6.  Today, we're counting down from seventy-seven.  Some say, "Oh, that's not too bad."  I hate that.  What that means is, it's not bad for them.  It's bad for me.  For our daughters.  For our marriage.  Yes, it's not a 6 or 12-month-er, but it's still seventy-seven stinkin' days.

For honesty's sake, let me be real for a minute.  You know what is the hardest thing I've ever done?  To live these past four years, trying to cultivate a {{relationship, marriage, family, home}} when my {{significant other, man, head-of-the-household}} is rarely present.  It's been, by far, the most trying, gut-wrenching, self-sacrificing phase of life.  And I very often (re: always) feel as if I'm failing.  I don't mean for any of this to fall on Travis, as if he were the problem.  He's not.  You all know what a fine man I think him to be.  It's 80% situational and 80% me learning how to grow up and 25% personalities conflicting.  Forget that the percentages don't make sense... they do to me.

For me, absence doesn't make the heart grow fonder.  Absence makes the heart grow tired.  And weary.  And distant.  And cold.  So I fight.  I fight for fondness.  For closeness.  For vigor.  For life.  And then, when times like these come; when #6 rolls around and my heart feels faint because I don't know how to cultivate rich ground anymore, I remember spring.  I remember that it's HE who gives life... not all my endeavors.  Why do I forget this so frequently?  I'm a foolish, foolish woman.

+++++

I resolve for the next seventy-seven days to soak myself in the Word.  To be daily with Him.  To find Him and be found by Him.  I resolve to hope that He will sustain my marriage, our relationship, our family.  I resolve to find peace in His Word and His presence.  Seventy-seven days.

considering joy on a Good Friday

I preached to myself this evening as I made our dinner salad.  "Consider it all joy... consider it all joy... consider it ALL JOY..." was my repetitive mantra.  Repetitive, because I couldn't quite wrap my mind around why I was to consider my plight ALL JOY, when it was anything but joy-inducing.

My husband has been gone - a lot.  The past month, he's been gone on back to back trips.  In some ways, these small trips are more difficult to accept than a deployment, because (a) they're usually last minute; (b) he's in the USA but not accessible to me; (c) they can tend to seem like vacations to a stay-at-home mother.  Tonight, he returned from a 2-week trip... with news.  News that, on Easter, he'll be leaving again.  And with a deployment on the near horizon, this news was depressing, angering, and heavy.

Trav took the girls for a short bike ride as I made dinner.  I needed space and time to cool off.  I've learned that if I allow myself the depressing, angering, heavy feelings (even if they're warranted), nothing is made better.  If I choose joy and perseverance, life together at home will be smoother.  As I methodically cut the lettuce, I chanted James 1:2.

This is Good Friday.  And I must consider this situation all joy.  Why?  Why are these two days linked?  What impact does Good Friday have on today?  


You see, Easter is the holidays I struggle the most with.  I never feel like I can fully grasp/appreciate/worship/feel the "correct" amount of what truly happened.  No matter how much I try and meditate on Good Friday, or Easter morning, I always feel like I'm lacking.  Christ's sacrifice was so HUGE, MONUMENTAL, EARTH-SHATTERING... and here I am, this measly person trying to fit my emotions with the facts, my gratitude with the Greatest Gift ever given.... an impossible puzzle.

And here is Good Friday.  And I'm upset.  Because I want my husband HOME.  I want a relationship with him.  I want a dependable schedule.  Yet, all I can do is recite "Consider it pure joy, my brethren..." in order not to blow a fuse.  In the midst of this, He spoke:

Consider it pure joy... Consider it pure joy... Consider it pure joy...  WHY?!


Because I want you to know Me.


But how can I know You through Travis constantly being gone?  Why are those so contingent upon one another?  I don't understand.


I want you to be satisfied by Me.  Alone.


Well, I do too, but I don't see anything wrong with Travis being home...  I mean, why did you give me a husband if he's not going to be a part of my life?


I died for you to be satisfied in Me alone.


Hmmm... okay.  


Trust Me, Jenny.  Trust that I will always give you what's best.


And that was it.  He spoke, there in the middle of washing my green pepper.  He helped me understand why I should consider my husband's constant absence a JOY.  I still don't fully grasp the why's and wherefore's, but I see how Good Friday is in my every day life.  That is enough for the next step.  Do the next thing, and He is there before you.

My "No!", His "Yes."

I love both of my girls.  Differently and the same.  Each one is so unique and precious to me, I often feel full of wonder that I am their parent - their Mama.  Summer: Heaven knows I could smother that girl in kisses and hugs from dawn til dusk.  The way she smiles and crinkles her nose undoes me on many occasion.

But, my Bella.  She has a very special, soft spot in my heart.  Deep in the recesses, she is ingrained in me.  I'm not sure if it's because of all we've been through: 5 surgeries, countless doctors appointments, 5 deployments.  Or maybe it's because I see myself in so much of her open emotion.  Or maybe every firstborn has a special spot in a Mama's heart.  Or maybe it's this: that at the beginning, I didn't want her.

When I look at my daughter, {and this happens quite often} when I watch her move and think and speak, when I watch her laugh and skip and dance, when I watch her try and control those pesky 3-year old emotions, when I watch her sleep and eat and breathe.... I am often reminded of how vehemently I didn't want her pregnancy.

I didn't want to be pregnant just yet.  I didn't want to "lose myself" and my freedom.  I mourned the loss of the past and the impending future for those first 20 weeks of her pregnancy.  I'm ashamed of it, but it's true.

And right before I began to push her out, an incredible fear took hold of me.  I wasn't ready for this girl!  I wasn't ready to be a mother and to love and to care for and to be selfless!!  I wasn't ready!!

Yet, she came.  Changing my life beyond what I could have ever understood what was to come.  God gave her to me, as a undeserved gift.  I said, "No!" and He said, "Yes."

Her life obviously has a purpose much greater than causing me to see my errors and selfishness and be astounded by God's grace, but I thank Him for allowing her to be a part of my changing self.  She is my Ebenezer, my Altar of Remembrance.  When she passes before me, I continually think, "How could I have not wanted her?  What would my life be like if God had given me my "No!"?"  Still, three and a half years later, these thoughts plague me.

What else have I said "No!" to, that God has given in to my desires?  What other gifts have I snubbed, thinking I knew better?  I can think of a couple, namely being content with where the Lord has stationed us currently.  I want different, I want change, I want what's best for me!  Once again, sweet Bella's soft face reminds me... be moldable, be teachable, be flexible... He wants my "Yes."

ready to be awoken

There's something magical about spring.  It begets from the unnaturalness of it.  No one looks at a young babe and finds it odd when he ages.  When a child graduates from its mother's breast to solids, he is applauded and encouraged.  When a teenage girl grows hips and becomes soft, she is looked on as a woman.  When a mother becomes a grandmother... all these things are natural and orderly.  Such is spring to summer, summer to autumn, autumn to winter.

But winter to spring?  It is as unnatural as life from death.  Every winter, I am tricked.  Color is gone.  Warmth has abandoned me.  Life is no more.  And then, one mystical day, spring bursts forth.  The perennials laugh, as their green buds boast of new life, "You thought me dead!  But I was only sleeping."

And such it is with Christ.  He is the True Spring of life.  Even as he said to the mourning crowd, right before He raised Jairus' daughter to life, "Do not weep, for she is not dead but sleeping."  He proves to us that He is able to raise our sleeping hearts to life.  You may find yourself, as I often do, wondering if your heart is so very dead.  Have I backslid so very far and forgotten my First Love so much that my heart is dead and colorless?  No, He says, you are only sleeping.  And He is able to wake you from that slumber.  Do you see the spring all around, reminding you?

The Giver of life, it is He who clothes His creation in splendor - the flowers and the hearts of His beloved, both.  The horror and expected death will inevitably come - in winter and in life.  But, there is a true spring coming.  The world evidences a glimpse of it annually; the believer experiences the grace daily.  And yet there is more to come!

"Do not weep, for she is not dead but sleeping."

And they laughed at him, knowing that she was dead.

But taking her by the hand he called, saying,

"Child, arise."

And her spirit returned, and she got up at once.

i don't want to be stupid

My husband addressed an area of my life that needs a bit of organization.  He did it kindly, with little to no condescension.  He did it out of love - for the betterment of our family.  Any wise woman would have taken it as it was, made a few quirks, and moved on.

I, instead, had a mature, 27-year old fit.  I waited until he left with Bella for church, and then I let the untamed words fly.  I was bugged.  Ooooh, I was BUGGED!!  How dare he!  Prance back into our lives after two and a half months of being gone... make a few assumptions about the way I live.... tell me what to do... I already DO what he mentioned, he just wouldn't know, since he's never here... blah blah blah.  I twisted around the house, dusting, vacuuming, picking up junk, wiping counters.... my goal in being to prove that I'm a clean person with a clean house (even though this wasn't the matter at hand).  That I'm worth my weight in gold.  I was out to prove something.

As the hours went by, I calmed a bit.  Summer was taking an unexpected nap, blessing me with plenty of quiet time.  As I stirred the soup on the stove and watched my bread rolls rise, I finally gave in to the Scripture that I heard beckoning me.  Opening randomly, one hand holding a wooden spoon and the other flipping thin pages, I opened to Proverbs 12.  And I silently prayed, "God, I know I'm wrong.  Give me truth right now to help my stubborn spirit."  And I began to read:

1. Whoever loves discipline loves knowledge,

but he who hates reproof is stupid.

...

4. An excellent wife is the crown of her husband, 

but she who brings shame is like rottenness in his bones.

Really??  Yes, this is what I flipped open to.  And, ooh, how that first verse stung, reminding me that the Word of God is indeed active and living.  He who hates reproof is stupid.  Wow.  That's me... 

And the Lord gently {oh, how He's so gentle} brought me back through my immature response to my husband's opinion earlier, and showed me how I was wrong and led me in the right way to respond.  I don't want to be stupid!!  I want to be wise.  I want to be the crown of my husband.  I want to do good all my days.  What a cost that comes at, though!  We must love discipline.  We must deny ourselves and our initial reactions.  So hard.

Today, and everyday, I'm grateful for His gentle grace.  

*Linking up with Grace Laced Mondays {a new blog I found that I'm loving!}

Lord, have mercy...

I came across this article today:

Police say Afghan man who wanted a son killed his wife for giving birth to girl

KABUL, Afghanistan –  An Afghan woman has been strangled to death, apparently by her husband, who was upset that she gave birth to a second daughter rather than the son he had hoped for, police said Monday.

The woman, named Estorai, had warned family members that her husband had repeatedly reproached her for giving birth to a daughter rather than a son and had threatened to kill her if it happened again, said Provincial women's affairs chief Nadira Ghya, who traveled to Khanabad to deal with the case. Estorai gave birth to her second daughter between two and three months ago, Ghya said. Officials did not have a family name for either Sher Mohammad or Estorai.

To read the whole article, click here.

I can't understand this kind of horror.  I also recently saw this promo for a documentary.  Take a minute or two to find out the three most dangerous words:

Come, Lord Jesus.

The heart without Christ is so desperately evil and wicked.
This blog post can only do one small thing:
to make aware of the desperate state our world is in...
...and hopefully promote prayer and outreach.

Thank You, God, for little girls.
Protect them everywhere.