Category: stories

July 17, 2008 on faith

God, Now

“I can’t wait until Bug can use his words.”

“I can’t wait until Drummer Boy learns to use the big potty.”

“I can’t wait until the business starts to be more consistent.”

“I can’t wait to see Baby Girl M on the outside.”

“I can’t wait until this summer heat is gone.”

Sometimes I spend so much time looking forward to a time when things will be different that I miss the daily joy and blessing of now.  We swore we wouldn’t do that with our children–getting caught up in anticipation of the next stage.  And, usually that’s the easy one.  Even in trying moments, we are still able to say “not yet!”  We are anxious to see the boys’ next steps, but not too quickly.  We can see the joy in soaking up all the current stage has to offer in sweet moments, cute sayings, wide-eyed grins and the fact that they still want to give us hugs and kisses.

It’s the other life situations that get us.  Those grown-up struggles with work, money, relationships–life–are the ones about which we can so easily say “there’s nothing to gain here.” We get tired and frustrated.  We want to move on.  We can’t envision joy, happiness or blessing in the given circumstances.  It’s like we’re in perpetual intermission, waiting for the next act to begin.

I’m reminded of a simple prayer my mother has often prayed:  “Lord, help me to learn quickly.”

It carries with it the basic understanding that there is a purpose in every situation.  There is something valuable to learn that can move us further along to a place of joy.  When the circumstances are tough, when they are hard to endure, all we can do is learn quickly.  Glean what God has for us so that He can move us forward.  Finding the purpose means finding the blessing.  Now.

“I would have despaired unless I had believed that I would see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.  Wait for the Lord, be strong and let your heart take courage. Yes, wait for the Lord.” (psalm 27:13-14)

God is good now.  His promises aren’t confined to streets of gold.  I can experience His abundance, His eternal joy and peace here on earth today–in my real life, regardless of the circumstances.  I CAN “see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the living.”  It is available immediately.

If I spend my days on earth waiting to be happy, and I measure that happiness by the people, jobs and things in my life, then I will live in perpetual disappointment.  If I can learn to see the goodness of the Lord where I am living now (rather than where I might be), then I will fall on my knees in gratitude for what He has given me.  I can learn to be content and accept the wisdom He has for me in THIS moment.  I will not spend my energy complaining or hoping for a better day.  I will not be so presumptuous as to discount the gifts of the Lord because they are not what I had in mind.  I can trust Him to fulfill my desires, and flourish within His blessings.

For the wonder of each our
of the day and of the night
hill and vale and tree and flow’r,
sun and moon, and stars of light:
Christ our God,
to Thee we raise
this our hymn
of grateful praise.

For the joy of human love,
brother, sister, parent, child,
friends on earth, and friends above,
for all gentle thoughts and mild:
Christ our God,
to Thee we raise
this our hymn
of grateful praise.

“For the Beauty of the Earth”
by Folliot Pierpont

July 9, 2008 mother's heart

tiny messages . Lessons in Recklessness

I was sitting on the floor of the living room–not necessarily an easy task at the moment with a 7-months pregnant belly out to there–and 18 months of pure squiggle (a squeal-fueled giggle) energy were coming at me full steam.

Running at maximum toddler capacity, my little guy flung himself into my arms with a resounding super squeal.  I gave him a little squeeze, a big “I love you,” and a few cheek nibbles as the various oversized wooden screws in his hands made contact with eyeglasses, ears, nose, etc.  Then, it was full steam back to the wall at the other side of the room to start again.

We repeated the process more times than I can count, with my little guy alternating between Mommy and a left detour to give Daddy a turn.

Full steam.  Turbo drive.  Volume 10.
That’s how my little 18-month-old gift does everything.  He’s on a personal mission to prove that no matter what you do, you can have more fun and be more successful at it if you are also squiggling at the top of your lungs!

Despite the household craziness his approach sometimes creates, I often find myself just soaking it up.  He’s reckless, giving himself completely over to whatever he’s feeling at the moment–whether it’s the trying times of hurt feelings, frustration that a toy won’t work right and disappointment at hearing “no” or the joyful times of shouting newly-learned words, a full speed, fully squiggled chase with brother and the ever-popular hug episodes described above.  There’s no doubt that whatever it is, he’s completely abandoned himself to it.

It want to cultivate that caliber of freedom, to act without hesitation when I feel strongly about something.  Or, to elevate the mundane to that level of love, joy and excitement.  I can imagine it most powerfully chrystalized in that moment of an 18-month-old flinging himself into Mommy’s arms.  No reservations.  No holding back.  No fear.  Just pure joy and pure love.

It reminds me of another love:
“In Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our sin, according to the riches of His grace which He lavished on us.” (Ephesians 1:7-8)

Can I be the one to fling myself without fear into the Father’s arms and bathe in His lavish love and grace?

Can I open up my arms and receive the one in need, ready to give His lavish love and grace in human form?

I hope so.

The tiny messages God continues to include with our gifts — 2 little boys and the anticipation of 1 little girl, each with open eyes, open ears, open hearts, and much to teach. “Behold children are a gift of the Lord…” (psalm 127:1)

July 2, 2008 mother's heart

tiny messages . Yes I Am

“Yes, I am.”

It was a statement that brought a cackle from both my husband and me at the dinner table.  In the course of conversation, our 3-year-old had done something that prompted me to say, “You are SO smart.”  Then, in agreement… “Yes, I am.”

Of course, anything that produces a laugh from Mommy and Daddy must be repeated.  So, a moment later I got the request, “Say I’m so smart again.”  With my cheerful compliance came another “Yes, I am,” this time accompanied by much giggling from everyone.

One thing I’ve learned about 3-year-old speech is that it matches up very closely with the heart.  Three-year-olds haven’t yet learned to choose their words carefully, to monitor their phrases to fit the circumstance, to “spin” their opinion based on the situation, or to distance the spoken word from their true thoughts and feelings.  When I listen to my 3-year-old, I know that I’m getting exactly what he’s thinking, what is most important to him at a given moment.

I’ve also learned that whatever I say in my 3-year-old’s hearing — just in the course of conversation or in specific attempts to teach him — will probably eventually come right back at me.  And, in true 3-year-old fashion, I know that I’m getting back an honest picture of how he’s interpreted my words.

That’s why I enjoyed hearing the “yes, I am” — twice.  There was no overblown pride with the statement, no bravado.  It came out as just a statement of fact.  It told me that he believed he was smart.  And, it reminded me just how important kind and positive praise can be for my children, how powerful it can be in giving confidence and setting right the assumptions they learn about themselves.

He had been told he was smart, and he believed it.
A precious understanding for a 3-year-old heart.

“Like apples of gold in settings of silver is a word spoken in right circumstances.” (proverbs 25:11)

Our world sometimes offers an overwhelmingly out-of-balance negative message — one that strips and diminishes.  Even in our home, it is so easy for praise to be out-weighed by the speech of stress, worry, exhaustion, busy-ness, annoyance, or correction.

“Yes, I am.”
A powerful reminder that it costs me nothing to say it more.

You are smart.
You are precious.
You are sweet.
You are strong.
You can jump high.
You can run fast.
You are growing.
You are kind.
You can share.
You did a good job.
I’m glad I have you.
I love you.

The tiny messages God continues to include with our gifts — 2 little boys and the anticipation of 1 little girl, each with open eyes, open ears, open hearts, and much to teach. “Behold children are a gift of the Lord…” (psalm 127:1)

June 26, 2008 mother's heart

tiny messages . Background Music

I was cooking pasta in the kitchen, and I heard a sudden chorus of giggles.  Three gigglers — two little ones and one big grown up one.

“Tickle meeee!”
“Wheeeeeeee!” (translation = “no, tickle meeee!” from the giggler who can’t say most words yet)

I couldn’t resist a peek around the corner.  I saw two little boys lying side by side on their bean bag with arms stretched over their heads and one big boy (daddy) leaned over them with tickling fingers poised.  All were joined in one resounding symphony of giggles.  It was at that point I added my own giggle to the chorus.  And, I couldn’t resist getting in one tickle of my own before getting back to my boiling pot.

It’s a time of change in our household.  We’re nurturing a still new landscaping business, entering new stages from baby to toddler, from toddler to big boy, and preparing for a new “little seester” in early September. It has stirred up even the youngest hearts in our little giggle crowd. Change has become the background music of our lives.

The one consistency of change is its constant presence.  And, like all background music, it sometimes asserts itself.  At times it’s a dirge, and we are saddened and brought to tears.  At times it’s staccato, disjointed so we can hardly keep up.  At times it’s a waltz, and we think we are finally in a predictable rhythm.  At times it’s forte, a cacophony that stretches and irritates.

Then, the giggles.  That joyous chorus relegates the turmoil of change to its right place — the background. It’s just the hum we learn again to accept.  The beautiful music of laughter has refocused our perspective.

“Our mouth was filled with laughter and our tongue with joyful shouting; then they said among the nations, “the Lord has done great things for them.” (psalm 126:2)

Indeed.

The tiny messages God continues to include with our gifts — 2 little boys and the anticipation of 1 little girl, each with open eyes, open ears, open hearts, and much to teach.  “Behold children are a gift of the Lord…” (psalm 127:1)

June 21, 2008 on faith

Dumb Question?

“Do you wish to get well?”  That was the question that caught my attention as I read this story from the New Testament — an account of a desperate man in need of healing.  In need of hope more.

“Now there is in Jerusalem by the sheep gate a pool, which is called in Hebrew Bethesda, having five porticoes. In these lay a multitude of those who were sick, blind, lame, and withered, waiting for the moving of the waters; for an angel of the Lord went down at certain seasons into the pool and stirred up the water; whoever then first, after the stirring up of the water, stepped in was made well from whatever disease with which he was afflicted.

A man was there who had been ill for thirty-eight years. When Jesus saw him lying there, and knew that he had already been a long time in that condition, He said to him, 

‘Do you wish to get well?’

The sick man answered Him, ‘Sir, I have no man to put me into the pool when the water is stirred up, but while I am coming, another steps down before me. Jesus said to him, ‘Get up, pick up your pallet and walk.’ Immediately the man became well, and picked up his pallet and began to walk. Now it was the Sabbath on that day.” (John 5:2-9)

I am 38 years old.  I don’t know how old this man was, but he had been ill as long as I’m alive.  He’d spent those years day after day waiting for an opportunity for healing — the stirring of the waters — only for someone else to jump ahead of him.  Maybe they were more agile, maybe more motivated, maybe they had more help, or maybe they just coveted the power of the stirring for more trivial maladies.  Regardless, he’d spent 38 years losing his place in line.

Imagine the disappointment and despair each time.  He probably didn’t even pay much attention to the rustle of the waters any longer.  What was the use?

Then, a man named Jesus stopped by Bethesda one day.  Of all the multitudes of afflicted waiting by the pool, Jesus walked up to this man (not by accident, I’m sure.)  Jesus knew that he had spent what probably seemed like a lifetime in this condition.  He knew each disappointment, each and every slighted moment.  But,what a question!

“Do you wish to get well?”

Why ask?  As I read, my first thought was “duh!”  Dumb question.  Was Jesus just making small talk?  Was He looking for a conversation starter?  Was he distracted?  Did He have some need to be asked, a vain acknowledgement of His power?  Was he mocking the man’s past efforts?

No. I know from my Bible that Jesus was not dumb, nor did He lack the ability to cut to the chase.  He seemed to always move with purpose and with kindness and forethought.  He certainly was not self-centered or vain — the cross is evidence of that.  So, maybe my impression of a dumb question was actually the most important question.

Maybe the man had gotten so tired and disappointed that his hope, the possibility of healing, had become dim.  Maybe it had almost flickered out.  Maybe after all these years, it was a question the man needed to answer.  Maybe his lack of hope had become the true barrier to healing.  Was the question meant as a reminder to fan the flame of faith again?

The man’s answer revealed the depth of his despair.  “Sir I have no man…”  There was noone.  He was resigned.  But, perhaps the soul search that question provided begged an answer so greatly that the man was forced to stare down despair.  The waters of his spirit were stirred.  He was confronted with a decision of faith, a call to action.  It’s time to move.

And, this time there was Someone to help him step into the waters of hope and be healed.  “Get up.  Pick up your pallet and walk.”  He had encountered the only man who would help him — the only many who could.  That man was Jesus.