Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Her First Nightgown
C recently made her debut into the little girl privilege that is a pretty nightgown. It might have been a little early, because it almost swallows her up; but her reaction was worth it. "I'm wearing a dress to sleep in!"
This is the same nightgown that A wore two years ago. Why is it so picture-worthy, you ask?
Because it was my nightgown many years ago. Another one of those handmade blessings from a Grandma whose loving hands continue to touch her family.
Monday, April 25, 2011
Why Me?
We heard an incredible testimony last week at our home group meeting. One of the families in our group is about to return to India to be missionaries to their own people. We got to hear from her father, who came to salvation under miraculous circumstances. He was a young adult before he had ever heard of a Christian, and still didn't know what that meant. Yet God orchestrated his life as an example of Romans 1:20, "For since the creation of the world, God's invisible qualities--his eternal power and divine nature--have been clearly seen, being understood from what has been made, so that people are without excuse."
As he shared his journey to Christ and the persecution he has endured since becoming a believer, I could not help but wonder the difference between his soul and mine. Why have I been born in a place and time where I have easy access to the gospel? Why was I born into a family with an extraordinary heritage of believers? Why me and not him? What is my responsibility with this blessing? What would God have me do or be because of my circumstances that predispose me to belief?
My first response is to have the mindset that I am here "for such a time as this." That God has put me here, now for a specific purpose and I just need to be alert for that purpose. But I also know that God doesn't need me to accomplish any of His purposes. He will fulfill His plans with or without me. If I miss the boat, it's just that--I miss out on knowing Him more deeply by having worked together with Him. It's a delicate juggling act, to not allow this unknown purpose to dominate my consciousness, but to trust that He who began a good work in me will carry it on to completion and not let me miss the opportunity if I am focusing on Him.
God, why do you have me here, now? I don't believe it's random. Tune my heart to you, that I would not miss any opportunity to make the most of the circumstances you have blessed me with.
As he shared his journey to Christ and the persecution he has endured since becoming a believer, I could not help but wonder the difference between his soul and mine. Why have I been born in a place and time where I have easy access to the gospel? Why was I born into a family with an extraordinary heritage of believers? Why me and not him? What is my responsibility with this blessing? What would God have me do or be because of my circumstances that predispose me to belief?
My first response is to have the mindset that I am here "for such a time as this." That God has put me here, now for a specific purpose and I just need to be alert for that purpose. But I also know that God doesn't need me to accomplish any of His purposes. He will fulfill His plans with or without me. If I miss the boat, it's just that--I miss out on knowing Him more deeply by having worked together with Him. It's a delicate juggling act, to not allow this unknown purpose to dominate my consciousness, but to trust that He who began a good work in me will carry it on to completion and not let me miss the opportunity if I am focusing on Him.
God, why do you have me here, now? I don't believe it's random. Tune my heart to you, that I would not miss any opportunity to make the most of the circumstances you have blessed me with.
Sunday, April 24, 2011
The Problem With Expectations
J was trying to convince the girls to go with him yesterday to WalMart so I could get a little peace and quiet. (I have so enjoyed our long weekend with him with no real plans. He's filled all his girls' love tanks plumb full.) My girls don't thrill to the idea of going to WalMart, so he had his work cut out for him.
A was quite the negotiator. She informed him that Mom could go get the bicycle tire he needed and he could stay home and play with them. Normally, a win/win accomplishing the same goal of peace and quiet. However, Mom did not want to go out in the heat or waddle around WalMart. But that didn't stop her from trying.
She came to the door of the laundry room where I was shuffling baby clothes into the dryer and announced with confidence, "Dad needs a new bicycle tire from WalMart and I expect you to go get it." See how that's the problem with expectations? If you expect anything, you should equally expect to be disappointed.
She came home from her trip to WalMart with flowers and chocolates for Mom. I didn't expect that!
A was quite the negotiator. She informed him that Mom could go get the bicycle tire he needed and he could stay home and play with them. Normally, a win/win accomplishing the same goal of peace and quiet. However, Mom did not want to go out in the heat or waddle around WalMart. But that didn't stop her from trying.
She came to the door of the laundry room where I was shuffling baby clothes into the dryer and announced with confidence, "Dad needs a new bicycle tire from WalMart and I expect you to go get it." See how that's the problem with expectations? If you expect anything, you should equally expect to be disappointed.
She came home from her trip to WalMart with flowers and chocolates for Mom. I didn't expect that!
Want to Know
As I was washing baby things yesterday, I took an extra moment to caress the flannel blankets that my Grandma made for my son. I fingered the crocheted details bordering the edge and thought of her sitting in her living room on the porch swing she had for a couch. Feet on an avocado-green ottoman, gently gliding back and forth as she went around and around each square of flannel to add her handmade touch.
I had the gift of sharing a home with her as a teenager, but completely wasted that time with her. I was so absorbed in the narcissistic universe that is teen drama that I missed out on so much of what could have been a precious inheritance of her wisdom and skill.
She's been in heaven for almost ten years now. She took time a long time ago to make a set of baby blankets for each of her grandchildren. My "girl" blankets are soft and loved, but the "boy" set was still crisp and stiff. As I took them out of the dryer, I said a little thanks for her thoughtfulness.
I want my children to know her. And that made me think of Easter. Christ conquered death and the grave, that's what I've been telling my girls for the last week. We can live forever with Him in heaven because He holds the key. And when we get there, we'll see all those people who have gone before us.
I want to know if those relationships will still matter to us when we get there. Or will we just be so overcome with adoration and worship, that it doesn't matter who we're with? They are all family and we are united in our worship. Or will those relationships be fulfilled in a way that can only happen in the presence of God?
When I was younger, I would hear older people praying for Christ's quick return and wonder what kind of crazy thing they were praying. "Don't come too soon, Jesus, I've got things I want to do!" But I understand now, and I'm sure the longing will only get stronger. Come, Lord Jesus, come. I want to know.
I had the gift of sharing a home with her as a teenager, but completely wasted that time with her. I was so absorbed in the narcissistic universe that is teen drama that I missed out on so much of what could have been a precious inheritance of her wisdom and skill.
She's been in heaven for almost ten years now. She took time a long time ago to make a set of baby blankets for each of her grandchildren. My "girl" blankets are soft and loved, but the "boy" set was still crisp and stiff. As I took them out of the dryer, I said a little thanks for her thoughtfulness.
I want my children to know her. And that made me think of Easter. Christ conquered death and the grave, that's what I've been telling my girls for the last week. We can live forever with Him in heaven because He holds the key. And when we get there, we'll see all those people who have gone before us.
I want to know if those relationships will still matter to us when we get there. Or will we just be so overcome with adoration and worship, that it doesn't matter who we're with? They are all family and we are united in our worship. Or will those relationships be fulfilled in a way that can only happen in the presence of God?
When I was younger, I would hear older people praying for Christ's quick return and wonder what kind of crazy thing they were praying. "Don't come too soon, Jesus, I've got things I want to do!" But I understand now, and I'm sure the longing will only get stronger. Come, Lord Jesus, come. I want to know.
Saturday, April 23, 2011
Laundry Day
I turned the dryer on this morning only to have Jeremy ask, "Are you drying gravel?!" No, that would be a load of baby clothes resplendent with snaps. I did five loads of baby stuff today!! And that doesn't include the four bags of pass-me-downs that didn't get washed. I washed two loads of tiny clothes, then three loads of burp rags, washcloths, towels, blankets, sheets, etc. I've only bought one outfit, but we are set.
I hoarded baby girl clothes for so many years, "just in case." Having boy clothes rain down in spades has only confirmed for me that there is no need to hold on to things "just in case." God will provide what we need, when we need it. And in the meantime, I can funnel His provision on to someone else instead of carting it up and down the attic stairs (or asking my husband to).
I hoarded baby girl clothes for so many years, "just in case." Having boy clothes rain down in spades has only confirmed for me that there is no need to hold on to things "just in case." God will provide what we need, when we need it. And in the meantime, I can funnel His provision on to someone else instead of carting it up and down the attic stairs (or asking my husband to).
Thursday, April 21, 2011
Remarkable Phenomenon
Ah, quiet time. It's really not meant for a 2-year-old, I don't think. She is still just scary enough that I'm afraid to leave her unsupervised, but I need that break. She got close to climbing out of her crib one too many times, so she's on the floor now with the whole room at her fingertips...including the built-in shelving unit with cabinets full of toys. So far, she hasn't started pulling everything out or climbing the shelves, but I know it's just a matter of time.
I will say that she is doing well with quiet time. She is no more cranky in the afternoon than she is in the morning, so I can't blame her defiance on no nap. She's just two.
The one thing I have noticed that changes after quiet time is her volume. It's rather remarkable. When her timer starts beeping at the end of quiet time, she begins yelling, "Mommy! My timer! Come! It's beeping! Come get me! Mommy!" And her volume remains at that level for hours. It's as if she's afraid to be quiet again lest she fall asleep.
She did this a few days ago when we were at the store with Daddy. We could not get her to be quiet for all the threats in our kingdom. Nor for all the consequences at our disposal. She just could not use her inside voice. The more tired (tireder?) she gets, the louder she gets. I suppose we're using all of our "quiet" during that one hour of the day and it's too much to ask to save some for later. I'll take that trade-off, though, and keep repeating my daily mantra, "Turn your volume down. Turn your volume down."
I will say that she is doing well with quiet time. She is no more cranky in the afternoon than she is in the morning, so I can't blame her defiance on no nap. She's just two.
The one thing I have noticed that changes after quiet time is her volume. It's rather remarkable. When her timer starts beeping at the end of quiet time, she begins yelling, "Mommy! My timer! Come! It's beeping! Come get me! Mommy!" And her volume remains at that level for hours. It's as if she's afraid to be quiet again lest she fall asleep.
She did this a few days ago when we were at the store with Daddy. We could not get her to be quiet for all the threats in our kingdom. Nor for all the consequences at our disposal. She just could not use her inside voice. The more tired (tireder?) she gets, the louder she gets. I suppose we're using all of our "quiet" during that one hour of the day and it's too much to ask to save some for later. I'll take that trade-off, though, and keep repeating my daily mantra, "Turn your volume down. Turn your volume down."
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