Sep
19
2012
Dear Sedryn-Boy,
Eleven months is suddenly seeming so old.
You’re crawling fast and pulling to stand. You hate the feel of grass on your legs but in the name of exploring you crawl on hands and feet to conquer the yard. You gleefully destroy entire clumps of grass.
You laugh so hard at your daddy knocking you over with his head. You think everyone is here to visit you, and if they don’t recognize that they’re here to visit you, you’ll climb right over them and inform them. You never stop chatting and singing. You still don’t have any teeth.
You have three moods: I’m hurting/hungry/screaming, I’m pretty tired by still vaguely smiley, and I’m happy happy happy. The third one is your 96% of the time mode.
You’re still not the best sleeper and greet us (happily of course) most mornings at 6 and at least one or so mornings a week around 4:30 (in the hurting/screaming mode).
You busted your gums on a coffee table a couple days ago. Your first tooth is so so so close. You’ve got a cold. And suddenly you’ve refused your pacifier because of discomfort. I’m on board with that… I don’t want another thumb sucker nor do I want to go through another pacifier battle at 20 months. Oh, but how I want to hang on to that paci and let you just stay a baby a little longer…
You think some of life’s greatest moments are flipping the page of a book. Part of that is mimicking and part of that is your own special brand of meticulous. I fear by the time you’re two, that I’ll be watching in wonder as you take things apart and put them back together again.
You still adore me. I walk into the nursery after church and even if you’re crying tired, you light up with a smile so huge I have to squeeze all of your eleven month body so close to me.
I can hardly contain how much love you require. I explodes in squeezes and nibbles and kisses and wrestlings all day long. I don’t think you’d have it any other way.
Stay a baby just a couple more months, okay? I don’t think I’m ready for another toddler yet.
Love you,
Momma
Sep
18
2012The baby, he skipped a nap so he’s up super early from that second nap and I’m worried about getting my nine hours of sleep tonight.
I wonder if I’ll ever manage to catch up on taking photos of the things I make for my Year of Action, or if I should just call that portion quits. Resign to try again during a less hectic season.
In the past seven days, I’ve made almost a complete quilt top (needs a solid border), a dress, a piece of embroidery, and some gifts. But I feel spent. Not a giver. Just tired.
I don’t think I have any thoughts to write down right now that are the least bit coherent (and I really ought to get that baby up…).
But I do want to say this.
You are enough (and so am I).
You are enough not because of what you have done or what you have not done.
No, you are enough because of what Someone has done for you.
Someone died for you to make you His beloved.
And that is enough.
More than enough.
Sep
18
2012Julia wrote this great Mama Loves post inspired by my Social Media Dare. She challenged us all to share our mess visually as well. I’m all for it! Here’s real life today in the Aldrich house. Um… and I was too lazy to get my real camera and used my phone instead. Ha!
Looks like the girls gave up on cooking and called for take-out?
That’s my pile of clothing that’s fit for consignment.
Someone is unloading my dirty dishwasher and slinging around a fork in my sweeping tape square.
Meanwhile Goodnight Moon Game is taking over the girl’s room.
Ooh, but look, my bed is made! A new habit I’m cultivating, maybe that makes up for the following image?
Yeah, that’s my at least 1 month uncleaned potty. (I cleaned it after I took this shot…)
And that is a half made dress tossed over my sewing machine with the rest of the project carnage (and toddler toys) spread all around the room. Oh, and a pile of clothes too stained to consign.
Sep
16
2012
The big birthday girls… 3 years on their special day. So fun.
Sep
15
2012Dear God,
A few days ago a glossy catalog arrived in the mail from my favorite clothing company. I flipped through it casually earmarking items I wish I could buy. My budget just doesn’t allow for regular clothing purchases. While I may need a few pairs of pants to hug the hips my son so recently widened, I do not need any of the things I saw.
God, as I closed that catalog, I wondered how much money this first-world country put into that publication. The thousands of dollars spent on hiring impossibly thin models and on the photographers that manipulate those ladies and clothing digitally to show perfection. And those printers and that paper and all that waste to sell an item or two of clothing made by a poor woman in a third world country to me – a “budget-constrained” first-world woman.
I felt sick as I finished this line of thought. Sick for the poor woman who sews my clothing for mere pennies while the company she works for spent millions making us first-world women believe we needed those clothes to be thin or beautiful or successful.
I once read somewhere that if all the world’s wealth were redistributed equally, then everyone would have enough- just what they needed.
Now I’m not a communist, but God, sometimes I wonder why you’re not. With a simple wave of your hand you could give us all the same amount. The same resources. The same opportunities. But You don’t. Why? Some of that is a mystery.
Yet, I think some of that is obvious. I have more so that I can give more.
Isn’t that the parable of the talents? The Master gives them that money while He’s away. Two of them grow that money for the master’s purposes and one of them just sits on it. That third guy-he doesn’t enjoy the money or invest it or give it away. It’s almost a burden to him and the time the Master is away is nearly a bore. No risk, no love, no living with the Master’s purpose in mind.
Isn’t that the same thing we American first-world Christians are doing? God has given us so much just by birth location: money, talents, luxury, and freedom. We’re just burying it all in a tin can in the yard rather than using it for our Master’s Purpose. We’re hoarding God’s gifting to accomplish His mission. Hoarding it. All to ourselves.
God, you could wave your hand and give us all the same amounts, but instead you wait on our hearts. You wait on us to recognize the reality of your love: the crazy-love that while we were still filthy wretches you died for us. Died to claim us as your own family. Because when we are filled with the reality of what you gave (everything) to love us, to save us, then we can’t help but want to share everything- especially You- with everyone around us.
Change our hearts, God, to be filled with the reality of the gospel so that we would give everything we have to the least of these. After all, without Christ, we’d still be the the least of these.
Help me to love you with everything I have,
Melissa Ann
P.S. I’m blogging here for Compassion International. It’s blog month, where we’re praying that 3108 children will be sponsored this month. As of last week 837 children were already sponsored this month; isn’t that amazing? Pray about sponsoring a child in Jesus Name?
