Nov
16
2010Some conversations can change you forever.
I don’t even remember who said it though I can narrow it down to two people.
I remember ranting, crying, bemoaning my relationship with these people.
I just didn’t understand.
Maybe that’s an understatement.
She looked at me (whoever she was) and said firmly:
“God put these people in your life. You would not be who you are today without them.”
I was silenced.
For weeks, actually.
Silenced again recently.
You see, it’s not about these people.
It’s not about the heartaches or the fights or the pain caused by thoughtless words.
It’s bigger than that.
These questions of why, the disobediences to direct commands, they are not only seeking the wrong answers,
They are the wrong questions.
What we’re really asking is:
Do I believe that God is sovereign?
Do I believe that God is good?
When I tell my daughters not to play in the cabinet under the sink and they look at me and disobey:
they don’t understand that I know more than them and they don’t believe that in keeping them from what they want to play with I am doing them good.
Woe to me, who is old enough to understand that when God asks obedience to Him it is because he knows more than me (and controls it all!) and He wants good for me.
And those last 6 commands they show in how I treat people how well I am answering those questions:
Do I believe God is sovereign?
Do I believe God is good?
4. Honor you father and your mother. Because when I do not give them honor, I reject that He used these people to mold me. I say that they were not a good gift. I say that God made a mistake when He gave me to them.
5. You shall not murder (even in your thoughts). Because when I devalue those whom He has made I am saying that He made something not good. That the person is not made in His Image.
6. You shall not commit adultery (even in your thoughts). Because when I defame the marriage bed, I am saying that His Sovereign plan of one man for one woman is wrong.
7. You shall not steal. Because when I take something, I am saying that my God does not give me what I need and that the gifts he has given me are not good.
8. You shall not bear false witness against your neighbor. Because when I gossip, I defame someone made in His good image. Because when I lie, I say that Truth is not the ruling Power.
9. You shall not covet your neighbors wife. Because when I say that my friends’ husband is better than mine, I am saying that God didn’t know what He was doing when he knit my spouse to me. I am saying that my spouse is not a good gift.
10. You shall not covet anything that belongs to someone else. Because when I say that what they have is better than what has been given to me, I am actually saying the God owes me something better. I am saying that His current plan for me is not good.
Is God sovereign?
Is God good?
Is the God who said He is first, who said not to make idols, who said to keep His name holy, and gave us a Sabbath because we are not sovereign, because we grow weary when He does not….
Is He who He says He is?
Is God Sovereign?
Is God Good?
I love this exchange in C.S. Lewis’ The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe because it precisely illustrates this tension:
“‘Is – is he a man?’ asked Lucy. ‘Aslan a man!’ said Mr. Beaver sternly. ‘Certainly not. I tell you he is the King of the wood and the son of the great Emperor-Beyond-the-Sea. Don’t you know who is the King of Beasts? Aslan is a lion, the Lion, the great Lion.’ ‘Ooh,’ said Susan, ‘I thought he was a man. Is he – quite safe? I shall feel rather nervous about meeting a lion.’ ‘That you will, dearie, and make no mistake,’ said Mrs. Beaver; ‘if there’s anyone who can appear before Aslan without their knees knocking, they’re either braver than most or else just silly.’ ‘Then he isn’t safe?’ said Lucy. ‘Safe?’ said Mr. Beaver; ‘don’t you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about safe? ‘Course he isn’t safe. But he’s good. He’s the king I tell you’.”
‘Course He isn’t safe. But He’s good. He’s the King I tell you.
A King who tirelessly weaves the mistakes of sinful people for good, even when those mistakes cause pain. Even when we don’t understand.
‘Course He isn’t safe. But He’s good.
He’s the King I tell you.
Nov
15
2010914. An entire set of baby shoes in my coat pocket
915. Little girls gnawing on French bread “hush food”
916. Collecting grease in a plastic container… melting container… grease all over counter/cabinets… laughter 🙂
917. Mill-my-own Peanut butter at the store. I had no idea it was a luxury until recently.
918. A long naptime for all 3 of us after a long night for mommy.
919. Baskets of clean laundry
920. Reading Max Lucado’s Come Thristy
921. Working on a quilt
922. Purging my sewing supplies
923. PBJ covered polka dot wearing girls
924.Bronwyn feeding Aeralind cheerios
925.Eric asleep on my bed
926. Aeralind climbing into every container she can fit her body into
927. Bronwyn riding or standing on her tractor
928. Mischievous little girls climbing on boxes and tearing every book off my shelf
929. Feeding Eric
930. Filthy face
931. Last yellow dandelion of the season
932. Enjoying our hand me down play set
933. Being outside in this warm spell
934. Looking at clouds
935. A meal shared with friends
936. Aeralind and Bronwyn “attacking” Seth and all the giggles ensuing
937. Working on a surprise with Jenny T.
938. A mid week day off
939. Wandering the Habitat Re-Store with Derek and the Girls
940. Butternut Squash Soup
941. Pumpkin Scones
Nov
12
2010I think the hardest part about being a mother is wanted to freeze time. Oh, to be able to bottle up the essense of these beautiful children! I hope somehow that the photos and stories here capture some of their spirit.
Aeralind and Bronwyn are officially toddlers.
They walk regularly and they enjoy getting into trouble even more regularly.
Those impish smiles and sheer curiosity cause at least one unforeseen clean up each day. Between using toilet paper already torn off to the roll, to drop everything baths, to wondering where the bolt cover cap on my toilet will appear next, to being amazed at how they work together to create each mess, I can hardly stay a step in front of them.
I wouldn’t have it any other way.
Aeralind Grace isn’t quite walking yet. She can take about 11 steps if she wants to, but she’s all about perfection and efficiency. Walking is not perfect yet and crawling is wonderfully efficient. Especially if I’m trying to beat sister to the coveted toy. Her perfectionism surprised me this time around. When she was learning to crawl she practiced with such regularity and determination. She mastered the skill in less than 3 weeks before her sister had even thought of it. But with walking, she’s embarrassed at every fall even if we praise her non stop! It’s fascinating to see this part of her personality evolve.
She might not be walking, but Aeralind is a master at manipulating objects. She put toys and cheerios into containers. She empties boxes and crawls into them to play. She is working hard to master using her spoon. She loved to hit anything with her drum stick. No on and off button can deter her. Digging in mulch at the playground (which she is not allowed to eat) to find that one delightful acorn (which she knows she is allowed to chew) is by far her favorite pastime. This child is covered in dirt all the time. I love how meticulous and purposed she is.
Bronwyn Hope has been walking for about 2 weeks now. She decided crawling was not very cool and just went for it. She face planted all the time, but wasn’t deterred. It was so exciting to be doing something new! This weekend we’re moving her up to the toddler nursery. She is just so thrilled to be able to move a million miles a second (and believe me she does!)
In the early days I though Aeralind was my fearless child, but I think she’s more curiously meticulous. Bronwyn has no fear (as long as someone she trusts is near her). She climbs up slides. She’ll slide down a slide backward all by her self. She’ll approach small dogs to pet them. She climbs on couches. She picks up boxes bigger than she is. She flirts with every person she sees. It’s so beautiful to watch her develop into this securely attached person who just loves exploring her world.
Oh, my sweet wiggly people, I am so proud to share this journey with you.
Nov
08
2010There’s a mess in my bonus room.
A whole closest spilled into the room.
A mess that had been hidden has escaped.
But good things came of it: my freezer is now in my downstairs bathroom. A new outlet run through the closet to make it happen.
I pause, now, looking longingly at that mess and hoping it will clean itself.
Sometimes I lack self-discipline.
Okay.
Most of the time I lack self-discipline.
Another mess comes to mind: the one in my heart.
I sigh quiet.
Lord, come spill out the mess so that You can make
Good things.
897. My bible study group. Tears held back as I ask how to train myself to believe the truth.
898. A husband who speaks the truth daily: You are beautiful. You are His image bearer.
899. Little girls waking mid night, each nigh: reinforcing the lesson: Keep Counting Gifts.
900. Diapers still sodden in the washer, waiting for me to act.
901. Little girls asleep upstairs.
902. Impromptu Family renunion survived with joy
903. My allergy attack… leaving rapidly (when the festering jack-o-latern was removed)
904. Thick skin coupled with a tender heart. Being given the grace to know when to ignore and when to repent.
905. Sitting in church with hubby. Alone. Babies at home with grandparents.
906. Little girls devouring turkey.
907. Attending a class on Dealing with Defiance.
908. The support offered in my church: even with it’s 2000 attenders. Large churches can be a glorifying community of disciple makers.
909. An unhurried moment with no babies fussing, no husband hurrying to share hearts with sweet Nana Stevens
910. Nana willing to train me: whether she knows she is doing so or not
911. A call from Heather J and the opportunity to serve her and sweet little Eric.
912. A quiet monday home
913. Contemplating writing truth to memorize on my wall.
Nov
04
2010I’m sitting in this chair typing away when I feel the welcome warmth of a baby’s head rests on my hip. Her little thumb tucked in her mouth, she looks at me asking to be held.
Her sweet sister toddles up with and empty straw cup from breakfast. She wants me to fill it.
We all collapse on the floor: a snuggly mess of limbs.
And I inhale sharply.
What faith they girls have in me.
Do I have that same faith?
When I am tired and needing rest, do I lay my head in my Father’s lap for comfort?
When I am worn and dry, do I come to the Living Water to drink?
I soak in this picture of faith in their little lives, and I come running to Him.
