Behind the Babyhaze

Friday, Dec. 30 2011

2012-01-23T23:09:00.000-08:00

Macy Grace.

The date above marks a special one for you and I want to record it for you before I forget the details. Your dad and I have never really wanted to put an emphasis on the idea of 'becoming a Christian' or that praying some magic prayer one time makes you one. Being a follower of Jesus is so much more than one decision you make when you're only a few years old. BELIEVING in God, Who He is, What He says about himself, you and the way this world works, is a LIFETIME journey of faith that I pray God deepens in you over years and years and years. It will involve millions of tiny steps of faith as your capacity to learn, grasp, trust and act, grows. You've actually already taken quite a few and your dad and I have watched you genuinely believe that God loves you, genuinely believe His truth that His ways are good, and that He wants you to love others before yourself. We've watched you understand His forgiveness and want it. In your tiny person way, to the utmost of your ability at this very young age, you already want His ways and His help. So we didn't feel any need to compartmentalize your journey and relationship with God into a recordable decision.

But on Friday, December 30th, 2011 when you were seven years old and lying tucked in to your pink polka dot bed, something really special took place in your little heart. You were reading your 'big kid' REAL bible that we gave you about 6 months ago, like you do every single night, with out fail no matter what. (you are ADAMANT about it, I dont know where you got that but it is NOT optional to you and you cry if we try to suggest going straight to sleep when it's been a longer night for whatever reason. It really is baffling to us, you NEVER forget.) I came in to tuck you in and convince you to turn out the lights for the night and you were full of questions. You'd been reading the story about the Israelite people and how they had to put the blood of the lamb over their doorways to show that they believed in God and wanted Him to save them from the plague of death that was coming that night. You'd think that'd be a confusing and maybe even scary story for a little girl but you were very matter of fact. "Mom, how come that made a difference?" "Why did the sacrifice of a lamb rescue them?"

We went through a number of these questions and then asked the ones at the end of that section of your bible. "Where else in God's story do you see Him rescuing people who believe in Him, once and for all?" You were confused at first and I said, "Is there another time in the bible that you remember there being a great rescue?" "When Jesus died on the cross" you said, "Oh! like Jesus dying was like them putting the blood over their doors, it says we believe in Him, we're part of His people and we want Him to save us?"

You are pretty darn articulate for a 7 yr old :)

"Yes!" I said "that's right!" We talked a little more and for some reason you got increasingly agitated. You kept huffing and acting weird and finally said, "Mom, I just.. I just, I dont know! I just don't know if I have what it takes." I giggled a little to myself at your drama and asked you to clarify. "Like what it takes to believe," you said, "Like I THINK I believe but how do I know?" you said and you started to cry.

I couldn't tell what line you were walking. Sometimes these questions are serious, sometimes they are you playing out some adult like conversations and drama in your head." Either way it felt real to you right then so I did what you and I do alot now. I drew you back to truth. "Mace, let's not let our feelings trick us right now, let's look at what we know."

We read "But if you confess with your mouth, and believe in your heart, Jesus is Lord, You will be saved."

In over emphasized simplicity, I smiled at you. "Macy. Do you want Jesus to be the Lord of your life? The One in charge? Do you believe He is the Son of God who can forgive you when you make mistakes so that you and God get to be friends forever?"

Giggling a little bit. "Yes"

For added silliness. "Have you said that out loud? Do you want to say it out loud now?"

Real giggling now. "Jesus is my LORD!"

Pointing to the bible verse. "Then what can we KNOW for sure?"

Big Smile. "That I'm saved?"

That's right! You are friends with God, you are forgiven and saved. Forever. You will have lots and lots of opportunities where you will have to choose between your way and God's way. Whether or not you are going to believe things God says are true about Himself and this world. And that will help your friendship with God grow stronger and your belief in Him will too. But that's about growing up with God and it will happen over time. God says even the tiniest little bit of belief in Him is enough to start your friendship, and you already have that. You don't ever have to worry that you don't have enough.

I'm not sure exactly how all the rest of our conversation went, honestly it was a bit of a blur. But it was awesome. And then your dad came in and we told him what we'd been talking about. And then we all prayed together and you prayed out loud asking Jesus again, to be in charge of your life.

Gosh I love you sweet Macy Grace. You are a very very special (not so little anymore) girl.

Congratulations on another little step in your journey with Jesus :)

Clinging to the Truth

2011-02-01T20:42:00.000-08:00

Dear Macy,

My precious baby girl. You are already six years old; I can't believe how you've grown before my eyes. Sometimes I watch you, and I become overwhelmed with the full blown girl in front of me. We have definitely entered the next phase of parenting with you and it is frightening and exhausting and completely wonderful.

I have to tell you some things I'm learning about you though. So that I can get them clear in my head and continue to hold a mirror up to you so that you too can grow to see them clearly in time. They are things that I am afraid you are just beginning to battle, and you will have a long and tear filled journey ahead of you I'm almost certain. But oh my sweet girl, I promise you, I will battle with you. I will help you, I will show you truth and I will be your teammate. Because I know this struggle I am seeing in you and my heart breaks that it will be yours too.

You my daughter, are self-righteous.

And you are struggling right now, really really struggling, to see your wrong doing in any and every circumstance. You do not easily admit fault, you look for every which way to blame someone else, and to distract from the truth of your guilt; even by bending the truth. You're not bending it like in a bold face lie you know you're telling. It's worse, more tricky than that. You are lying to yourself. You are working yourself up, in crying and fits and complete uncontrollable despair and you are telling yourself LIES. Your emotions are distracting you from being honest with yourself about the situation at hand and so you truly convince yourself of these 'it's not fair' and 'everybody hates me' lies.

I am not a stranger to these tactics, they get worse as you get older. And so my daughter, I see you. I see you. And I love you all the same, and it hurts me to watch such a complicated struggle go on inside of you. But don't worry. I am here, and I will help you.

Tonight we had a good talk. I don't know how much you will remember, but I sensed the Lord step in and give me wisdom and words for you, so I want to record them before I forget them. Cuz like I said, this is a complicated struggle, one that stirs deep wounds and memories in me, and I often feel incapable of steering you down a different path than the one I've walked.

It started out with a silly choice you made to come back to the table and eat your dessert without cleaning your room like you were supposed to. You let us believe your chore was done and ate your cookie anyway. So when the 4 of us sat down to read Magic Tree House and I discovered the state of your room, I let Daddy and Carter go ahead and start reading while you picked up your room like you were supposed to. You were missing the beginning, and you came completely unglued.

You began reeling with excuses and tears of injustice, when I stuck to my guns you became mad and huffy. The amount of times I had to stop you and correct your attitude and disrespectful comments while you were stomping around picking up your room ended up making you miss the entire chapter of the book. You were so so upset.

Climbing in to bed with you I waited for awhile until your tears calmed just a bit, but your sobs were still consistently about how unfair it was and how I didn't like you and how nobody cared about you. When I asked you who chose to not clean their room, you wouldn't answer. Instead you started talking about a bunch of other things. I could tell you were so distracted you couldn't even keep your mind focused on why you had actually received the consequence. We were making little progress.

I asked you to give me three feeling words and you said, "Stupid, Sad and Angry." We started with Stupid and you said you felt stupid because you felt like nobody loved you, even God. While I had a suspicion that you did not actually feel that but simply thought that would get my attention and I would feel sorry for you and let you off the hook, I decided in that moment it would do no good to convince you you didn't actually feel that. We'd simply go round and round.

So instead I told you there was a tricky problem with feelings and I was gonna tell you a secret. You were a little intrigued, I felt your little body relax a bit and quiet itself to hear me.

I told you that the bible says that feelings, more than anything else, are tricky and can lie to us. So it is our job to take our feelings and check them against things we KNOW are true, even if we don't feel them. And then we cling to truth. I asked if you knew what it meant to cling to something and you said "No", so I wrapped my arms around you and squeezed you as tight as I could. You giggled a little and rolled over to face me.

"That's what it means to cling. To hold as tightly as you possibly can to something and not let go. And the bible tells us to cling to what's TRUE." I said.

So then I helped you check what you were feeling against what was true. We talked about how we know it's true that God loves you no matter what. And we know it's true that you have lots and lots of people in your life that love you. So your job, if your feelings try to lie and tell you no one loves you, is to tell your feelings to 'Get out of here!' cuz they are tricking you.

This seemed to make sense to you. So I went a little further.

"Macy", I said "What is TRUE about tonight? Did you chose to come back to the table for dessert without cleaning your room first?"

"Yes" you whispered.

"So is it anyone's fault that you missed the book tonight besides yourself? Is it really unfair?"

Your response was barely audible, but your mouth formed a little "No" and I didn't push it any further. I know how hard that admission is. And I'm very proud of you for seeing it.

We talked about alot of other things after that too. We made a deal that I would always help you figure out if your feelings were tricking you, but you would need to always trust me enough to share them with me; and then trust me enough to believe me when I pointed you toward truth. And then we prayed and your little words brought joy to my heart.

"Dear Jesus, please help me cling to truth."

Yes Macy, YES. YES. YES!

Tonight, you went to sleep calm.

Oh Macy Grace, I love you so so much. Hang in there sweet girl, I am on your team.

Love Your Mama

Drowning

2010-10-20T20:55:00.001-07:00

"Does anyone else feel as tired as me? Does anyone else feel the tears rise to their eyes but the timing simply isn't right because there's children, or business or life to tend to and so you shove them down consoling yourself that you will find the time to release them...later, and then quite possibly an entire week can go by as you continually push them back because literally there has not been a single convenient moment in which you could cry? And then when you finally do find that moment, late at night, does anyone else feel the tears heavy in their throat but for some reason the relief that you know would come from a good cry, just won't come? Does anyone else go around feeling like their grown up mask can't possibly stay on for very much longer and then the overwhelmed 15 year old will just crumple under the mound of things she's known all along she can't possibly handle? Does anyone else feel like they have no idea what they are doing?!"

I wrote the above more than a week ago. A sort of spewing of the contents of my heart in the silence of a lonely night. Things have not changed much since then except that finally, the tears did come. In big shoulder shaking sobs with huge gasps of air in between. Something about having a husband there to catch the tears makes them come easier I guess. Even though I'm sure he wishes they'd escaped me while he was still on the other side of the world. Oh well, "for better or worse" he said. Today was for worse; and he was still my champion. Allowing me a couple hours freedom to wander aimlessly around in my somber 'post-cry' state, clearing my head and tackling errands that have piled up to an insurmountable height. Already I feel slightly lighter. Gosh I love him.

I don't have any more to write right now. No tidy packaging to wrap this post up with, no hopeful moral of the story or silver lining. I believe in God. I believe He cares that I feel weary and bent beneath my load. I do not believe He is freeing me from it, even though I believe that He could. But I don't fault Him for it, I am not stomping my feet like a child not getting what she wants. I just do not know what else to say about it except it does not shake my core belief that He is still good and sovereign and holy. It just makes me cry, because I am tired, and I wish He would simply take pity on me.

This post is beyond low, but I feel beyond low. I'm almost positive I will feel silly and dramatic for posting this, but my fingers are flying across the keys without restraint because it just feels so freeing to type out this cloud weighing so heavy in my chest, to let it come pouring out through them even if only for a moment of escape. Posting feels like getting it out of me for a second, but I don't want to deal with feeling the embarrassment of having to look someone in the eye who ended up reading it. So I guess that's why I'm posting it on the hidden blog, the one I atleast can tell myself no one or atleast almost no one reads. Here you go cyber world, it's me. In the rawest of form.

Celebrating Victories

2010-08-01T14:41:00.000-07:00

Dear Carter,

Last night was a good night. One I really really needed to have with you. It brought my heart such joy to see in you a glimpse of our Almighty God at work. Some movement, a molding of your little heart toward His ways. Toward a softness, an understanding and awareness, a wanting of Him. I wanted to record it before I forget; I wanted to record it so I can go back and remember that God is faithful to hear my prayers, my begging and pleading with Him for my children's hearts, and that even sometimes in the midst of my discouragement, He will bring about token's of victory that provide me the strength to keep marching on.

Last night threatened to be a tough one. Your Dad had already left to work on his sermon prep and you and Macy were buzzing to your toes with excitement that 'Tomorrow you'd be leaving for San Diego!'. Sleep was not going to come easy, and you had already disobeyed twice and gotten out of bed for less than necessary reasons. After receiving the standard consequences I could tell you were unaffected and had little intention of surrendering to the night, even if you were going to be punished for it. So when I heard your tip toes down the hall for the third time there was a heavy sigh lodged deep in my chest.

When you got to the couch where I was sitting and I turned to stand you saw the Character Trait book I'd been flipping through. You like this book and you like the stories we read from it at breakfast when we are consistent with our 'Trait a week' plan. You are also very very smart and you know that it is about God and that if Mommy was going to give in to anything it was going to be a request to hear stories about, as you put it, "How to make right choices." You literally said to me as I was walking you back down the hall, in the most sickeningly angelic voice, "Oh Mommy, I want you to read me those stories so I know more about how to make right choices!"

Child, you will be the end of me.

While I was in no way disillusioned to the state of your true motives; I decided to take the bait. So we climbed up on your bed and I chose the Chapter. OBEDIENCE.

See now, you're not the only clever one in the family! :)

And so we read, story by story and we talked about what obedience meant. And then we came to the story where the little boy thinks about doing something wrong but then remembers that God is always watching. You looked up at me with big serious eyes and said "Mommy, I believe that verse is true." The hint of a question in your voice betrayed your confident claim and I knew you were actually asking me if I thought it was true. I told you I believed it was true too and that I knew God was always watching and cheering for us to make good choices and obey. I told you I knew He was very close to us all the time, offering to help us obey if we wanted Him to.

You thought about this for a second and then with the sheepish sideways glance you've grown famous for you reached over to your covers and pulled them back far enough to reveal a stowaway. You had hidden your toy snake in your bed so I wouldn't see it, and in that moment I knew your little conscience had been poking and prodding that heart of yours.

"Mommy?" you asked, "Can I sleep with this tonight?"

I looked at you and though I knew my answer in an instant, I could tell you had no idea what your honesty had just afforded you.

"You know what Carter?" I started, "Because you chose to be honest instead of sneaky, because you chose to tell the truth instead of trying to hide something from Mommy, I get to say YES right now, you can keep your snake in bed with you tonight! I'm really proud of the choice you just made, doesn't it feel good?"

Oh your smile. Your dimples. The sparkle of pride in your eyes. Carter, I wish I could bottle these moments of softness in you; they turn me into a complete puddle.

"Mommy, I knew God was watching and I knew He wanted me to tell you about the snake."

And this was my favorite moment, I looked at you with excitement and told you what was clearly a hilarious picture in your head.

"You are absolutely right Carter, and you know what? He was rooting for you and saying, 'Come on Carter! You can do it!' and when you made the right choice He was so happy!! He's watching right now saying 'WAHOO!!! Carter!! Great job!' "

This tickled you so, you couldn't contain your giggles; but I could tell you were enjoying the feeling that comes with choosing honesty, choosing God's way. I pray it took root deep in your heart. I pray it wedged itself in there tight and that it will fester and grow an unquenchable thirst for righteousness in you. THAT is my prayer.

I kissed your sweet forehead then and said Goodnight one more time. We didn't even need to talk about what would have to happen if you came out of bed again, there was a sense between us at that moment, an understanding. You wanted to obey, you knew it felt good and you had no desire to test the limits. Oh for the ability to freeze time!

As I made my way to the door you laid tummy down on your bed, head on your crossed arms, cheek squished against your elbow.

"Mommy?" you whispered.

"Hmm?" I stopped and turned halfway to see your one eye poking out at me.

You lifted your head ever so slightly, "I just wanted to tell you that I love you."

Oh Carter-bot. Precious boy. I love you too. Way way more than you know.

Tears

2009-09-02T13:13:00.000-07:00

Dear Carter,
I'm fairly confident that through your entire life, no matter how old you get; you will never, ever grasp how many times you have made your mama cry. I am praying most of the tears are coming in a concentrated time during these couple of toddler years, but I'm certain more will come as you grow into a teenager too. And I'm just feeling so lost. I have no idea what to do with my hurt and discouragement over you, I never in a million years would have dreamed that a three year old could hurt my feelings so badly. And there seems to be no appropriate outlet for such pain, I can't try to make you understand how mean and personal your behavior feels to me and I don't want to go smear your precious little name to anyone who will listen and then be tainted in their perspective of you, and so I guess I will just write. Because you may be three and I may be a grown woman, but right now my emotions are so raw, my feelings are so hurt..I simply don't know what to do with them.
I love you so much Carter. It physically aches me, and yet your love is so fickle towards me. I know that should be expected of a toddler, but your fits feel so mean, so personal. I was so excited to spend some special time with you today while Macy went to preschool, possibly our last for awhile once these babies are born. And it started out so sweet and you were so tender with me, I was so glad for the gift of that moment. But I think it was just because you were getting 'treats' even though I let myself believe you were enjoying the time with me and my attention. The minute I had to draw any sort of line, make any sort of decision against your desires, you flipped your switch completely and fell right back into your defiance and angry faces at me. I have had to spank you two different times already today and you've just gone down for your nap! And in neither instance did I feel your complete softening toward me at the end, or a spirit of true repentance. I'm baffled at how hard you become as you look at me and laugh at my attempts to talk with you before and after your consequences. I'm shocked at how you don't seem to care at all that there remains a rift between us, if I can't get you to see it and not want it there, then how do I talk to you about reconciliation and restoration? How do I get you to seek it? I don't know how to get through to you.
I know I am too emotional about all this. I know you are too young to fathom how you are actually affecting me and I know my perspective should be much more that your transgressions are against the Lord and not me and I should just be pointing you to see that. But I can't help how painful and personal it feels. And I just needed somewhere to cry.
Oh Jesus, give me wisdom, please help me teach and train my little boy, please capture his heart and soften it, call him to You as only you can, break his strong will, bring him under your authority and even at three, give him some sort of compassion for his mama. I need your strength and patience Father God. I need help.
In your name I pray.
Amen.

Jewels

2009-05-21T20:44:00.000-07:00

Dear Macy,

Tonight I saw something very special in your heart and I wanted to write it down before it slips away with the rest of the crazy everyday life we live right now. Tonight I saw the simplest example of a most complex struggle that you and I and every other person seeking after Jesus will continue to struggle with all our lives. And you were so precious, it broke my heart and filled me with sweet joy all at the same time.

Oh goodness I love you so much.

Tonight as we were driving home and I was asking you about preschool, you accidentally slipped and revealed something that you didn't mean to. In your chattering you mentioned that you and Hannah K had found a beautiful jewel in the sandbox at school and you decided to take it home with you even though Mrs. Kirst had told you to leave the jewels in the sandbox. When I realized what you were telling me and started to question you further on it, you suddenly realized what you'd admitted and you got very quiet. When I kept asking questions you started to stammer, and finally said,

"Never mind Mommy, I don't want to talk about it"

I told you that this was a time I needed you to practice honesty and keep talking to me and telling me the truth and when I looked back at you, you had tears in your eyes and you asked if you were going to get a 'time out'. In that moment I decided it was most important that you learn you could always come to me and so I told you if you were truthful then you would not receive any consequences from me for the choice you made. I told you that sometimes after we realize we've made a wrong choice we have new choices, we can keep lying about it and making more wrong choices, or by telling the truth we have a chance to change that wrong choice and make a right one. And so we began to talk and you told me the whole truth about the jewel from the sandbox.

The teachers had put jewels in the sandbox for the kids to dig up and find, but Mrs. Kirst had told you to leave them there so lots of kids could find them, but you just thought they were so beautiful and your little heart coveted them to the point where you felt you needed one and therefore rules didn't apply. And so you took one home with you and it was now in your jewelery box.

We talked about how making that choice was thinking about yourself and what you wanted instead of what would be best for everyone. We talked about how making that choice to disobey Mrs. Kirst would make her sad and would make God sad. And as we talked Macy, your tiny face was so sad. I told you I was proud of you for telling me the truth and thanked you for talking to me honestly. And then, after a moment of silence, your little voice whispered from the backseat;

"But Mommy, what are we gonna DO with the jewel now?"

And I was SO glad you asked. I whispered a quick 'thanks' to the Lord for the chance to take this lesson further and for your soft and teachable heart. And then I asked you what YOU thought we should do with the jewel? What YOU thought God would want you to do with that jewel.

"Give it back."

I had to strain to hear your almost inaudible response, but you said the words none the less, even though it was so obviously hard for you to say. I told you you were a very smart girl and I thought you were absolutely right. And then your tears started to really fall. You cried "But Mommy, I love this jewel, it's so beautiful and I really want it." Oh sweetheart I could have cried right alongside of you, your emotions were so real. A jewel may seem small and dare I say, silly, to me as an adult. But I absolutely understand just how much a heart can want something, even when it knows it shouldn't have it. I know the awful, suffocating struggle between doing what you ought to vs. what you want to. And though the things may change, the struggle does not get any easier with age.

So we talked some more. About how choosing right is not always easy. About how it is actually really really hard. And then I told you what a great gift we have in Jesus, that He knows how hard it is to choose right when we don't want to; and how He promises to help us so we don't have to do it alone. I told you we'd pray everyday until your next preschool day and ask God to help us make this right choice, and I just knew that He would.

By this time we were home and you had stopped crying. You went straight to your room and got the jewel and handed it to me. And when you climbed into bed we prayed. At first you just wanted me to pray but I told you just how much God would like to hear from you about this; and so after I prayed, here are the words you whispered to Jesus;

"Dear Jesus, I just wanted to tell you that um, I'm sorry for making a wrong choice. Help me give it back to Mrs. Kirst. And Jesus, (you had started crying again by this point, the shame of admitting you were wrong and probably a little sadness from the re-realization that you would have to part with your beloved jewel creeping back in) ...would you please help me find a jewel that would be okay for me to have?"

There aren't many words to describe just how my heart flooded with love for you right then. I was so proud of you and the little journey you've already begun to take with Jesus. I kissed you and told you that the neat thing about telling Jesus that you're sorry for making wrong choices is that He promises when we say sorry that He will forgive us and that means that He doesn't even remember that wrong choice anymore! I wish I'd had a camera to capture how big your eyes got. You looked at me in disbelief and said, "You mean He forgets?!"

"Yes!" I said, "He promises He forgets completely about our wrong choice and is just so proud of us for now making the right choice."

This was clearly good news for you and I was so happy to see your heart lift before I kissed you goodnight and left you alone in bed with your thoughts. I saw such relief in your eyes, it was awesome to witness such a fresh first glimpse at the freedom and joy that comes with forgiveness.

It touched me and I will not soon forget it. So again, I just wanted to record it because my prayer is that later on, as you find yourself in more and more of these struggles; most likely even more heart wrenching than this little jewel (though I know that is hard to imagine) this story will help you to see the simplicity and truth in the battle and you will be encouraged to press on.

And I also pray that you will ALWAYS know me as a place of safety, someone you can invite to walk the journey with you. Someone who will pray with and for you when making the right choice is hard. Because I know, so well, sweet girl; that it will be. But even if you choose it through tears and whispers; I promise it will be worth it. Great is your reward in heaven; in fact God calls them jewels in your crown.

I love you so, so much.

Sweet Little Ones

2009-04-11T13:02:00.000-07:00

This is most likely the last couple hours I will ever not know what the complete dynamics of our family look like. I know I am over-dramatizing this, but it feels very final to me, and I am surprised by the nerves in my stomach, the anxiousness I feel.

So precious precious babies. I have to write you briefly one last time while you are still such open ended question marks to me. I know finding out what sex you are doesn't by any stretch of the imagination mean I will know WHO you are. But I do feel just a tad like knowing WHAT you are will all of the sudden determine so much for you already, before you are even here. It will also determine so much for Macy and Carter. And so I want to take a last minute to sit and enjoy the strange peace that comes with knowing ONLY that you are my children and I love you immensely. Boys, girls or otherwise.

I'm afraid once I know what you are, all sorts of worries will begin streaming in to my mind, because that is who you're mama is, a worrier. Oh, there will be all sorts of wonderful daydreams and excitement and fun plans that will simultaneously rush my mind as well, but I'd be naive to think I'll be able to keep from getting a bit stressed, regardless of what combination you two are, about how it's going to effect you two, your brother and sister and your mom and dad as well. My mind will race immediately with how to raise you the best, how to foster strong relationships with you and your siblings, thoughts of rooms and clothes and colors and names will all start swirling in a matter of hours.

So again, for this last minute... I'm enjoying the quietness of my mind that knows there's NOTHING I can plan or decide quite yet.

I LOVE you two, oh I love you so much already. It is such an unbelievable feeling, this illogical unconditional love thing. This immediate sense of protection and ownership that I feel for you, two lives I've never met, two faces Ive never seen, two genders I don't even know. But you are mine, and I am so so glad.

I love you.

Your Mama :)

I failed today.

2009-04-07T23:34:00.000-07:00

Well, I feel like I did at least, and it breaks my heart.

I am so tired, and down. I just feel very down. I feel discouraged at how many things I am trying to play catch up with teaching my children. I feel like I'm quickly losing control of all the things I've said I wanted to shape in them, the atmosphere I intended our home to exude. I am impatient and they are not responding.

Today was hard, well, lately most days have been hard and I, again, did not take the time to find the right ways and words to re-group and get the kids on track again. But what happened near the end of the day is what broke me.

I was disciplining Carter (as I had been most of the day). We were in his room on his chair and I was trying, yet again, to get through the defiance to the humbled version of my child that I can actually have a conversation with. Macy appeared in the hallway (I hadn't closed the door) and I automatically assumed she was hoping to enjoy the 'show' of her brother getting in trouble. I did not take time, I did not show kindness or patience. I told her she needed to go away.

A good while later after Carter and I were finished and I was busying myself cleaning something she came up to me in tears. They weren't the over-dramatic tears she sometimes sports, there wasn't a trace of attitude in her eyes, but there was true timidity. I could tell she wanted to say something to me but her voice was so low and quiet, I'm embarrassed to say I was tempted to be annoyed even then. Thankfully, I knelt down and asked her to use her words again to tell me why she was crying. And, without a trace of manipulation or copying something she'd heard somewhere else; these were the words my four year old said to me.

"I'm sad because I feel like I'm not special to you."

Well, there ya go, I'm crying again. As I have been most of today. I can't believe she was able to articulate her feelings like that. And I can't believe I have already allowed my sweet precious four year old to wonder if she is special to me. To question her significance or wonder her place. It's true I have been preoccupied with Carter, and she, well she doesn't require as much from me in the way of immediacy, but that doesn't mean she doesn't deserve my undivided attention, my focus.

I will say that I scooped my baby up right there and took her to the couch where I snuggled her and told her over and over how truly special she absolutely was to me. At least I did that. But I can't take away the hurt she felt, the little walls or tiny defenses she may have developed as a result of the dynamics in our home lately. And I know I am a worrier and over thinker, but I am so so afraid of how I will juggle the time between her needs, Carter's antics and the twins well, basic survival.

I know this post ends kind of on a down note. But that's truly how I feel these days. I've been pregnant twice before now so I know enough about myself to know I get low and discouraged during pregnancy and typically pull out of it with more energy and motivation down the road. But in the meantime I feel so helpless to 'snap out of it' and it clearly is effecting more than just me.

So today was not a good day. And I guess I just needed to process a bit, on the blog I'm pretty sure no one reads. It still helps to put it out there.

New Life

2009-02-13T12:39:00.000-08:00

Dear Babies.

I don't know what to call you just yet, my heart kind of flips every time I say or write 'twins' and since I don't know if you are boys or girls or one of each yet, I guess I will just call you my babies. Because that is what you are. My third and fourth babies, and though I didn't expect you to both come at the same time, in my heart I always knew I'd want both third and fourth babies, so now I just get to enjoy you at the same time.

So, my sweet sweet babies. Guess what? I just found out about you! And it was through quite a rollercoaster at that. See I knew I was pregnant with you #3, but last Saturday night I woke up bleeding and thought for sure I had lost you. I was so heart broken. I cried for you and I cried for Macy and Carter who are so excited about you. And I cried for your Daddy and I because getting to have each of you is always such a shakey and unsure road for us, every single time we wonder if we will ever be blessed with another child; and so the thought of losing you hurt to the core as all the doubts and worries of our family never, ever including a third or fourth baby sunk deep down. And then the doctor came in to tell us that not only were you still okay and safely growing in my tummy, but you had a #4 in there to keep you company!

I'm going to tell you the truth. My heart did a whole lot of flipping over the next couple of days. Oh I am so elated you are both okay! I am so thankful to the Lord for protecting you and on one hand I can not keep the smile off my face. But I will admit that I am also a little scared. I am a worrier and there is so much to worry about when having twins. I worry that carrying you will be hard and that you won't be okay when you come out. I worry that I won't be able to focus on either one of you to teach you such important skills like sleeping and eating and you will both suffer for it. I wonder if I will be able to enjoy you enough before you are grown or if I will drown in the midst of the craziness that will be your infancy amongst Macy and Carter's initial brink of childhood; I'm afraid I'll miss it all just trying to stay alive. I worry I won't be good at this, I worry that I am already not the kind of mom I want to be to two children so how much more disappointed in myself will I feel letting down four of you? I worry about how this family dynamic will shape each of you, my four precious children that I feel so fiercely protective of and responsible for. All of it scares me; and like I said, I won't lie and say I haven't been crying my eyes out these past couple days in a mix of emotions (and pregnancy hormones).

Oh but can I also just tell you how I get these waves of dizzying excitement at the thought of meeting you two at the same time and introducing you to our already established little family? What an amazing addition you will be! What a thrilling experience to get to see our family jump from 4 to 6 in an instant and what incredible multiplication of joy that must undoubtedly mean for every family memory from that point on. Macy and Carter are already beside themselves with love for you. They are already plotting how they will each get to take care of one of you, each have one to hold and be 'kind to'. They are quite ready for the task of big brother and sister. And as for you two. It is a rare and lucky thing to grow up as a twin. Or so I've heard, I don't even get the pleasure of knowing it's specialness completely; but you two will. You two will get to experience that special bond, I will get to watch you two know and be known by each other in a way I will probably be jealous of. Oh but I will be so grateful. I will be so glad.

So I just wanted to write this first letter to you, to tell you I am still processing what all this means; but tiny little glimpses of our lives together are starting to flash in my mind's eye and I am simply thrilled beyond belief to meet two whole new people; two brand new lives, tied solely to me and Ryan yet unique and fascinating in every way; in just 7 more months.

Here we go :)

Painfully Real

2007-11-29T22:07:00.000-08:00

I know that this world is full of sin. I know that since the very beginning things have been messed up and distorted and so incredibly NOT the way God intended them to be. I KNOW that. But man if it doesn't feel like a gigantic sucker punch to the gut when reminded that all that destruction and pain lies right inside your tiny little world.

I don't know why I continue to cling to the notion that once a christian you are safe from the hurt and lies and total chaos of sin; okay maybe not totally safe, but perhaps like a mini force field is protecting you just a tad? Like we are not quite as susceptable to temptation as the rest of the vulnerable world. Latley I have been reminded a couple times over just how close to home sin can creep it's little claws and my heart has just been aching as I survey the aftermath.

If I can draw one itty bitty good from all the pain I've been witnessing, it's this slow and steady development of compassion in my own heart. Like little petals being peeled back I have noticed this protective layering I have hidden behind being torn away as I begin to truly understand that these 'horrific' committers of these 'unimaginable' sins are PEOPLE, just like me. They are caught up in something they never intended, they are victims of the fall and they no more woke up one morning thinking they were going to destroy all that was good and happy in their families and lives, than I woke up this morning deciding today would be a good day to puke my guts out. (Yeah, the flu has hit us hard, bluck!)

I just don't usually allow myself to acknowledge how possible it would be for me to fall victim to certain temptaions and sins that I find unbelievable and so 'out there'. I don't allow myself to see that the people caught up in such webs are not always monsters, but often just one stupid choice away from exactly like me. Like I said, lately I have not been given the option of squeezing my eyes quite so tightly shut and it has been good for me. Painful; but good.

Because it hasn't made me soft on the idea that these horribly hurtful and wrong choices are contrary to God's design and heart and plan for us. It hasn't made me question whether I should stop calling these certain things sinful and wrong and unacceptable. It just makes me realize I better stay waaay down off that high horse in thinking I'm not just as capable of falling just as far; in the blink of an eye. It makes me hurt for ALL people involved in messy sin. It makes me want to fall on my knees and beg Jesus to forgive us for making such a terrific mess of His creation and sacrifice. Latley my heart has been overflowing with compassion and grief; and as painful as it is... I guess it's probably alot closer to the state of Christ's heart than my pre - reality check, pride soaked one. So if there is something to be thankful for; I suppose it's that.

Always Trusts, Always Hopes

2007-11-06T13:25:00.000-08:00

On the inside on my wedding ring there is a ridiculously cramped, tiny inscription with the words always trusts, always hopes. Ryan's ring (in much prettier, more legible script - because of the difference in widths) says always protects, always perseveres.

We chose these four words because they are at the end of the love chapter; and we, engaged and clearly experts in the art of love, knew just how important and key they would be in our marriage. For me to trust Ryan's leadership and remain hopeful despite any circumstances, for him to protect the health of our family and fight for it at all costs.

Oh, for the long lost wisdom of engagement.

*Incase you didn't pick up on the sheer irony of that statement let me assure you it was there. Because it doesn't matter that we actually were right back then; I could have been right all week long and twice on Sundays about marriage and spirituality and communication (infact I'm pretty sure in my mind I WAS); and it wouldn't change the fact that I simply HAD NO IDEA HOW HARD IT ALL WOULD BE.*

Well I was reminded of my tiny inscription this morning in our women's bible study as we convieniently studied L..O..V..E. Funny how in Jr High and highschool AND college, the 'love' series' we went through were always best attended and met with this silly inward giggle of hope and excitement and expectancy; like I was about to hear some secret code to a life of pure bliss and sugary sweets. Someone should have knocked me upside the head, "We're not talking about EROS people!" the bible barely addresses Eros, and even just 5 years into marriage, I can tell you point blank that love, is CLEARLY not just about Eros! ... but anyway...

As we again dove into the Love Chapter, I began to look at my ring and think about all the very obvious, purposeful, stubborn ways that I have been refusing to really love my husband anymore. And specifically even in the ways that at one time I felt so passionate and 'soap box-ish' about that I chose them to lay permanently pressed against my finger.

I have been failing to trust him. Not really as much in the ways and places he leads us, although that is often somewhere I poke and prod my ever so innocent opinions. But moreso in that I have slowly stopped trusting him with my insides, with my vulnerability, with my unplanned, unthought through rawness. I don't award him the credit that if I do not have my exact point and argument and 5 point list all prepared, he will still hear me and be soft towards me and stll allow me those feelings. If I do not clearly know what I am thinking or feeling (which let's face it, I hardly ever do) then I will be quiet and not tell him a thing about it. I don't trust him to be a part of my process anymore and so many things have suffered because of it.

And I have been failing to be hopeful. I have been failing miserably and not even noticing.

I am melancholy, I am sad, I am tired and frusterated and I have given up... at least he has every right to think I have. I give no indication that I believe our communiaction can get better again, I give no glimpse of understanding that this time of life, with small children around our ankles, might play into the difficulty and it is not that we, as a couple, are just hopelessly broken and beyond repair. I have resolved that things are hard and my attitude is to suck it up and deal with it; you won't find the sparkling eyes of anticipation at our house unless you look at our wedding album. I promised 5 years ago that I would be the voice of hope and positivity in our marriage and I have not been. Not even close; I haven't even been trying.

I think I have lost my ability to be silly, which requires both trust and hopefullness. I reserve my silliness for my children and then effectively turn it off and hand the responsability over to my husband the minute he gets home from work. It's now his turn to be silly with them and I need to finally be serious. What a fun home he must live in.

So here I am this afternoon, feeling like a little bit of fog has lifted from my eyes and knowing some of the steps I must take to begin re-living my vows. I am going to try, I will purpose to move forward with this conviction and clarity. But, this... this is hard friends, so much harder than I could have ever guessed. Because I can write this all, I can think it and say it to friends, but I feel like the claws of habit have sunk deep deep down and have this grasp I can't really get out of. Why, when he walks in the door can it feel like a touch of softness towards him, if not returned, just might actually rob me of my last breath of air?

ONWARD.

2007-07-08T20:22:00.000-07:00

Daylight Savings... Friend or Foe?

I love 8 o'clock. Lately it has been a really fun time for me. It used to be that I watched and waited and begged for 7 o'clock (bedtime) and then when the kids were finally in bed, the rest of the night just kinda slipped away in a state of relaxation, recovery and avoidance of actually going to bed myself because that meant defeat. It meant the next time I would be conscience again the craziness would have started all over and it would be twleve or so more hours before the next 7pm!
Well, I still anxiously await the beloved 7pm, but things have changed sightly in the MacDiarmid routine. You see, I love summer dearly, even in 100 degree heat, it's still my favorite time of year. But along with warm weather and swimming and frappacinos, summer also brings something else into our lives; more daylight. which means 7:00pm might as well be noon when your considering how light it is outside. This is a very confusing concept for my inquisitive two year old who makes a point to note whether the sun or the moon is up every single time we're on a car ride and then adds to her observation the conclusion "That means it's nighttime" (or daytime...you get the idea). Anyway, 7 o'clock was no longer translating as sleepytime.
We decided this was somewhat fair since most parents I tell that my kids go to bed at 7 look at me like Im Hitler anyway. But Ryan and I simply were not willing to part with our glorious alone time that begun promptly at 7 each night and allowed us to regroup, look at eachother and actually TALK...
Thus was birthed, a new plan! Macy now gets all ready for bed at the same time but when Carter goes down she just has her quiet time. She stays on her bed but she can read books or play with a toy quietly or sing (one of her favorites...)for the next hour as long as she doesnt get out of bed. Then at 8 Ryan or I go in and do our little night routine, turn out the light and it's off to dreamland!
This has been WONDERFUL! Macy thinks it's a special treat cuz she's up later than Carter, and I have enjoyed the "tucking her in" time soooo much more lately I actually WANT to be the one to go in at 8. At 7 I was rushing through, but that hour gives me just enough time to unwind and enjoy the silence, by 8 I am always in the best mood! I am so up for snuggling and singing and praying and breathing in these precious moments with my baby girl that I know will be gone too quickly.
Sooo.. in conclusion, 8 o'clock has now become my favorite time of day, and daylight savings is no longer my enemy.

Sparkle

2007-06-28T00:27:00.000-07:00

I just got home from a bridal shower. It was for a girl that I had the pleasure of kind of 'big sistering' through her high school and some college years and it was neat to sit back and watch her as she embraced her new role as 'bride' and soon to be 'wife'.
It's funny to me that this particular night and this particular shower seems to have really drawn some deep waters up in me. I have been around alot of soon to be brides and showers etc in the past five years since it was my turn at the magical merry go round of presents and plans and smiles and bliss and dreams and optomism. My sister in law is even engaged and wedding planning as we speak. But being here tonight affected me deeply and I don't really know why.
The shower was 'Kitchen' themed and to go with it we each brought one food recipe and one 'Recipe for Life' sharing advice for the couple about marriage. Whew. Since my relationship with this girl has pretty much centered around advice and imparting wisdom and 'going before' her in this life to then look back and offer a hand up... I really wanted to offer some encouraging, thrilling, fool proof nuggets for her to keep and cling to. But as I sat and thought I knew, just knew that everything and anything I could possibly truthfully offer her of what I've found to be true of marriage and actually practically helpful 5 years in, she at this moment, sitting in that chair with her beaming smile and giggly tapping toes, will not think she needs or already think she knows it. I know because I did too. I actually don't remember a ton of 'advice' people handed to me when I was engaged, probably for that very reason that at the time I was receiving it I did not view it as advice but rather 'obvious' information that my fiance and I had already discussed, dealt with and perfected. We were good to go and I was too busy telling everybody how incredibly amazing we worked together to hear much of anything else.
So tonight, as I listened to the stories and watched her eyes sparkle in anticipation of all that was to come for her and her love, I felt so many heart heavy emotions bubbling up. I didn't really feel the need to warn her of all the practicalities and realities that come with the hum drum of everyday life, instead I kind of felt like grabbing some of that sparkle from her eyes (don't worry, she had plently to share) and putting it back into my tired ones. And as I watched her nod in somber agreement at the marriage advice she won't remember, I actually tuned in for myself. Cuz 5 years in; I have to be wise enough to admit the sparkle dust has settled a little around my eyes and it's made me see that some of these women who've been married 20,25,30,50 years... they got some stories to tell and some wisdom to drink in.
Maybe we should all have 5 yr anniversary bridal showers... they might be a whole lot more affective.

Steady

2007-06-19T20:32:00.000-07:00

Every Sunday lately I have found myself moved by something our pastor says in his sermon or something in the words we happen to worship to that morning. I guess that says some good things about the church we're at.
I often intend to write on the things I feel the Holy Spirit impressing on me in that moment, but the quietness of that hour and a half vanishes with the chattering crowds just outside the double doors of the sanctuary. And it carries with it the strength of the conviction I felt just moments ago. This past week though, I was moved a second time by the same words as the week before, and so before we hit Wed. I am going to sit and think on them... thanks for joining.
We sang a grouping of choruses lumped into one song during worship. One part stated over and over "Lord, I wanna yearn for You, I wanna burn with passion over You, Only You." As I was singing this part of the song I was having a really hard time. These words are so true in my heart, I desperatley long to yearn for the Lord. I remember the days when I felt pure passion and motivation to go and be and do all for the Lord. I was truly enamored by Him, knowing Him, being with Him, just HIM. I know what life driven by that is like and I thirst for it. But as I was singing that morning I was coming before the Lord wondering honestly if I was asking something unrealistic. I have come to believe, whether true or not, that there are times of passion in life and times of mundane obedience and duty. I don't know if Ive been sold a lie or not. I guess I have begun to see our walks with the Lord as a wooing of children. Maybe when we were younger and more fragile; as I most definitely was in my first college years, maybe the Lord wooed me more with emotion, maybe I felt those passions and yearnings so tangibly because that was a phase of my walk I was to go through at that time...Christ sought me, won me, assured my heart and soul of His truths and goodness and received my absolute dedication. But now we have moved on from that, the Lord and I...and I am here in a place of calmed down...normalcy? A more relaxed, level headed version of myself? Time to buck up and walk this thing.
I don't mean to sound discouraged, or maybe I do, I don't really know. There is a part of me that misses the excitement of those days with the Lord, but the other side doesn't really believe it's fair or neccessary to expect them to have continued forever, because this life with the Lord is not about me or how great it feels to be a believer. And so went my wandering mind while my lips continued on...
But then the next chorus in this medley we sang rang out, "And I wanna be found faithful, I wanna be found steady, I wanna be found worthy, worthy for you." It's the steady part that got me. As I reflect on it right now I guess I'm not as wounded by the word 'steady' as I was in the moment. But at the time it really jabbed me. I felt like the conversation I was having with the Lord explaining all the reasons why I just "wasn't as excited as I have been in the past, and how that's okay" was brought to a harsh hault as I recited over and over to my Jesus that I want to be found STEADY. Like I said, right now Im feeling that means more of what I actually was talking about, holding steady with my walk and dedication despite the waning emotions and excitement. But that morning, man, that morning... and then again the following sunday, that word just hurt. Saying it literally ached in my heart, as though I have not been steady. I have not been true and firm and steadfast for my Lord. I have weakend and compromised and explained away my true Love. I have traded a love story for an acceptance of truth, reckless abandonment for duty and relatability. Instead of meeting with Him, I talk about Him and learn about Him and do things for Him.
See, my problem is that the alternative isn't even wrong or bad... but that sunday morning, I felt clearly convicted that I ought to be steady in my passion for the Lord. Thing is, I can't get anything but emotional passion to FEEL passionate.
Any thoughts out there?

Knocked Up

2007-06-16T14:59:00.000-07:00

So here's my deal with the movie Knocked Up.

I've heard alot of reviews about it now and thoughts from friends and I've been really surprised by the reaction. Because I expected to like it and to laugh alot. I expected to have to defend the fact that as a 'christian' I found such a 'controversial' topic to be so funny and enjoyable. So I was all ready for that...

What I wasn't ready for was the fact that I didn't like it, and I didn't think it was that great of a movie. I actually was pretty disapointed because I think Katherine Heigel is an extremely talented actress and comedian. So I was so bummed to find alot of the timing off and the jokes so... easy, so obvious. I guess I'm just a fan of alot more clever humor. My drama teacher and director in high school had a big policy he pushed. It had nothing to do with rules of 'appropriatness', he didn't really care how 'taboo' it got, as long as it was smart and not just going for the easy laugh. I felt like alot of the script could be reduced to Jr. High boys taking turns screaming out the word 'penis!' while rolling on the floor in histerics because they are just so dang funny.

Now, I did enjoy and laugh VERY hard at certain points. I thought the story line of the sister and brother-in-law's marriage etc was witty and... true :-) and I thought the co-worker at the TV studio was flat out hilarious. So it's not like I hated it and didn't have some really good laughs, they were just spotty. And they were interupted by awkwardness and frusteration at the forced, obvious, for lack of a better word, bathroom humor, that it feels like they used to ensure a shock value and laugh from an audience they don't consider clever enough to catch on to anything but blatant dirty words, jokes and gestures.

Anyway, all to say, I feel like if I tell people I didn't really enjoy the movie, they will automatically assume it is because I am playing some sort of 'christian' card and I was just offended by the content. Sometimes I feel like our gneration is moving so much in the direction of this emerging thought, this mind set that it is all about Jesus and following Him and not judging or getting caught up in the pharasitical rules of 'right and wrong', that we turn off our brains and embrace anything and everything, just to prove that WE are not the kind of christians that can't have fun and enjoy a good joke.

I'm not saying everyone who liked this movie is saying that for those reasons, I'm just surprised at my own hesitancy to admit that I didn't...seems some things have flipped a 180. When I was in my 'God Squad' youth group in High School, we were careful not to admit that we watched and loved and quoted Billy Madison and 90210 (Im blanking on examples), now I feel a slight pressure to say I DID like a movie that in actually, I thought was pretty poor comedically, just so I don't appear too 'high and mighty'.

Just some food for thought.

*** Kudos to the maternity fashion though! You're right on Melis :-)

Serenity in a bottle

2007-06-09T20:49:00.001-07:00

I just had a really long day. I drove back from a two day stint at my parents house, with the kids and no husband, we had late dinner, no naps and scant attempts at meals all day today, couple that with a marathon swim session earlier today (courtesy of my die hard mom) and you get two tired kids and a wiped out mom.

BUT I am sitting here right now smelling my hands in a kind of tranquil serenity of contenedness. Why? You ask.

Oh, because I gave the kids baths before bed. Didn't matter how late it was tonight because church is in the morning and so Saturday night is the one night (honestly sometimes the ONLY) night of the week that bathtime is guarenteed...( I really am a good mom, don't call protective services). And it is completley amazing to me how even after the craziest days, when all I want is to get the kids in to bed and relax, if I give them a bath... I end up sitting around after they're tucked in, sweetly thinking about how precious they are and even sometimes in a moment of sheer insanity... maybe I could just sneak in a cuddle with them a little longer.

The adorably drenched, tiny naked bodies and playful splashing giggles help set the mood, but really... it is the scent left on my hands that sends me into this swirling state of bliss. They really should make a car air freshener with this baby shampoo scent... it would put an immediate end to road rage I swear. Cuz I know other moms agree, I've heard countless ones gushing the same words as me, it's seriously universal.

So even though it's unoriginal, I can't help it, I just love it and I have to share. The way my heart actually reacts to the smell with a tiny little surge of love, it's kinda like a drug the way it can literally alter your state of mind. And hey, it's not like just cuz thousands of people get epidurals women stop gushing about how great modern medicine is as soon as THAT form of sweet serenity kicks in.

So there ya go... baby shampoo is like an epidural.... without the gigantic needle that has to be stuck directly into your spine.

Passion and Conviction

2007-06-03T22:33:00.000-07:00

We dedicated Carter today. I love baby dedications and for some reason always get really emotional. I know nothing is spiritualy happening with my son just because I 'dedicate' him in front of our church, but for me it is a very spiritual moment between me and the Lord.
I know that I will struggle all my life with this gripping fear that seemed to root in me the minute I found out I was pregnant with my first child. Since that thrilling, undescribably moment when I saw the second pink line I have become an expert at creating worst-case scenarios. I have not been able to watch a movie about parents and children since then without blubbering like a baby. I've said a number of times that I feel like my kids will be the undoing of me because just thinking about not being able to protect them or about what I would do if I lost one of them, makes me feel like a crazy person. I literally don't know what I'd do.
But on the other hand, I have worked in too many youth groups and dealt with too many of 'those parents' that can NOT let go of their children and let us do our jobs, they don't trust us and most importantly, they do not trust the Lord, or atleast they're not modeling it for their children.
ANYWAY... when I stand before the congregation to dedicate my children back to the Lord, God and I are having a little coversation and I am willing myself to promise surrender of them into His perfect sovereign hands. I WILL model trust in the Lord to my children. They WILL see that I BELIEVE He is in control and I will not live in fear. (By the way since my daughter's dedication at 4 mo. old - she's now 2 1/2, the Lord and I have had this conversation many more times, but I'm still determined!)
Again, ANYWAY... dedicating Carter was also a little different because at this church the parents get to share with the church one word or trait that they pray for their child. There have been some good ones over the past few months, but the one Ryan and I shared today was Passion and Conviction. I thought I'd write a little about my heart and hopes for Carter.
If you know Ryan and I, you know that Carter comes from very passionate parents. That might even be an understatement, so chances are, he is going to wind up passionate about something (Macy too). Oh, if I could possibly explain in words how my heart pleads with the ever baffling and awesome mystery of predestination vs. free will, that my children will be passionate about knowing and following their Jesus. I don't want them to do the right things and stay out of trouble, I don't want them to give the right answers and get straight A's. I want them to 'get' their God and be enthralled with His ways.
When a person is passionate about something it usually taints their whole skew and direction of life, and they typically spend a great deal of their time and life focused on pursuing that one thing. As the song goes, I pray that my children will have "one pure and holy passion, one magnificient obsession, one glorious ambition for their lives, to know and follow hard after Christ."
I especially long for this for Carter because I think this world we live in is increasingly unfriendly to men who are passionate about God. It continues to be painted more and more as a 'girly' emotional thing to be 'religious' and 'into' God. Oh the battle He will have to face to become a godly man, passionate about His Jesus.
But none the less, that is my prayer for him. My sweet boy. My heart just surges with thoughts of the young man he will become and it aches for all the trials he will go through to become that very man. What challenges lie ahead for our precious little ones... whoops, there I go...see gotta go have that whole 'trust' in the Lord conversation again!
For fun I'll leave you with my 'runner' up words that I deeply hope are produced in my little man.
Kind (oh I want him to be a kind boy- they can be so mean!):-), a leader, fear of the Lord, compassionate, joyful, submissive, confident... and so many more...in no particular order!

Precious community

2007-05-29T09:20:00.000-07:00

I am a GAG girl. The name GAG stands for Girls Accountability Group and it was created by silly boys in college to tease us, but it stuck before anyone had a chance to change it. Now, almost 9 years post 'GAG branding'; I am returning from an amazing reunion weekend and am simply overwhelmed by the lessons God has taught me through these girls.

Let me start by telling you that being with them, is like being with comfort itself. When I'm with them, I become such a fuller version of myself, each one of the 10 bring a different aspect of me up and out of hibernation. I find renewed passion, challenge, joy and conviction packaged neatly with total rest and acceptance. Seriously, it's like snuggling in a pile of freshly cleaned laundry, still warm.

And I bring all of this up because these girls, they have taught me what I believe to be one of the most significant practices of my life. Vulnerability. Honesty. Intentional sharing of your truest heart and self. Until college and these girls I remained safely in the facade of my life, and the funny thing is I didn't even know it! But over the years the Lord took this group of young women and He slowly molded, tore away, replaced and pushed us in the direction of intimacy with eachother and miraculously we found ourselves willing to risk and go for it! I don't think any of us knew what God was doing in and amongst us until we were already neck deep in eachother's lives. By then, it was too late to try denying how incredibly refreshing real community is, no matter how much work and intentionality it took.

There is a song by Jennifer Knapp that has always tugged deep at my heartstrings. It's called Martyrs and Theives. In the song J. Knapp speaks of how,
"In the absence of martyrs there's a presence of theives that only want to rob you blind. They steal away any sense of peace, though I'm a king I'm a king on my knees. And I know they are wrong when they say I am strong, as the darkness covers me. So turn on the light and reveal all the glory, I am not afraid, to bare all my weakness, knowing in meekness, I have a kingdom to gain."
These words are so incredibly powerful to me and I feel so deeply passionate about the truth behind them. In the absence of people willing to bare all, to look stupid, to risk vulnerability with the chance that no one will follow... there is this false sense of peace that can render an entire group of friendships totally blind. Even our Bible studies, church groups, best friends and accountability groups can become an absolute sham as we all pretend to be 'kings' and impress eachother with our minor issues and struggles...the ones we've measured and feel are safe enough to share. Too often the very groups designed to create community amongst churches become to the tools keeping us at a distance from eachother as we 'yes' eachother to death, afraid to challenege, speak up, admit or correct.... and so we end up in darkness thinking everyone around us is so strong, and feeling desperate to maintain our own image we've so carefully constructed.

Even though I have not lived by or with these girls now for 5 years and our connection time has been significantly lessened, there is a lump lodged so far down in the core of me now that 'taints' every new friendship I've come across since. It screams in conviction to 'turn on the light that actually lets people into my life -let God's glory be the only thing revealed - bare all of my weaknesses', because I do know, there is such a kingdom to gain. Truly, being with the GAG girls this weekend, was a tiny glimpse of Heaven.

Love you girls.

Good Question

2007-05-22T18:07:00.000-07:00

"So my question is, do we attempt to minimize the ocurance or severity of these swings (only, the ones in the negative direction of course)? Or, do we learn to live with them and hope that everyone around us does too?......okay, the latter option doesnt sound so good. What I meant was more of learning to deal with the fact that this is part of life in this season and while still trying to keep from getting too crazy in the bad times, knowing that things just wont always be so smooth and we should try to adapt.......sometimes I think what I just wrote is sufficient, other times Im convinced I need therapy. What do you think?" - Erica

Hmmm, what do I think? Well I guess I would be tempted to say (and definitely reassure myself often) that this phase of crazy life is one that inevitably comes with having babies and toddlers and it will pass. I do believe that and I know that so much of the very physical demands that drive alot of my exhaustion and therefore short temperedness these days will eventually be over. The thing that concerns me though is that although the type of things that frusterate me may change over time, I'm pretty sure there will continue to be things about mothering my children that will send my head spinning and my temper flarring. Now, it's the constant "why's", lack of sleep and tedious disobedience correction. Later it will be the sassy attitudes, worrisome crowds and blatant disobedience. I guess the thing that I see in myself that worrys me the most is my tendancy to respond to my children emotionally. I let them get to me, (my kids and my emotions) and it drives my behavior towards my children. The way I talk to them, the way I handle them, whether I say 'Yes' or 'No' to a fair request. I can see myself punishing them when I am tired, I do not smile as much, I do not laugh with them; if Macy is annoying me, I feel this ingrained gut reaction to let her know Im bothered by withdrawing affection (at the least!). It's not far from my petty high school girl days! I came from an emotionally driven family and now I see it manifesting full force in my parenting. This is not something I am proud of about my own character, my inability to control emotional responses and actions in favor of wisdom and godly direction. So naturally it is not one I want to teach my children. I desperatley want to provide stability for them, predictability, dependability. I am the adult and they are the children, naturally they will be emotional; throw tantrums, cry etc etc, how confused they must be when I join in! Where else will they learn to reign in those emotions and choose maturity and Christ-like wisdom over them, if not from me?

I struggle so much with what I am modeling to my kids. I could write you out a list of all the ways I'd like my children to function, the things I believe comprise a healthy, well-adjusted, kind and God fearing adult. The problem is, at any-given time, there's atleast one of those things that I, am definitely not. What pressure I feel; knowing that so much of how my children will relate to this world and the people around them, and to God... they will learn from watching me. It makes me want to cry, it makes me want to hide and it makes me want to fall flat on my face begging the Lord for some sort of intervention in this process.

So I guess, what I'm hearing whispered in my ear right now is that I need to give myself grace, and I need to trust the Lord way more than I do, that He is ultimatley and sovereignly watching over my children and the people they will become. But I think for me, I will always maintain in this battle against my fleshly response towards my children, not because I think I will overcome it, but because the battle of refinement is one I want my children to grow up learning to fight as well.

And having said all that... I still have no idea how all those lofty "I wants" translate into my day of naps and spills and tears and diaper changes. G'Night :-)

Tired

2007-05-18T20:15:00.000-07:00

I want to write right now because it is the only thing I can think of that might allow me to unwind, I am a ball of emotions... frusteration and guilt being two of the strongest. I am shocked at the swings I can go through in a day... and not only do they leave me feeling like a crazy schitzophrenic, but worse, a horrible mother.

I had a post planned out this morning. I was thinking through what I was going to write because I was in the middle of feeding my son his breakfast and I had just composed an entire song out of the words "poopy" and "stinker". Im serious.
I was having so much fun with him and my daughter was playing beautifully by herself and I was mentally sharing with you all through my intended blog entry how I didn't mean alot of what I wrote last entry, I was just emotional. Sure, these years may not be the most eloquent or philisophically stimulating of my life, but that's okay because somehow making spoons into airplanes and watching my daughter finally master the thread through the giant plastic bead equates to sheer joy in my book right now. I dont know how God did it, but in some crazy, outside of this world way, He managed to make THAT fufilling and fun for me.

And then the afternoon hit. I had plans to hang out with my sister-in-law, I've so been desiring good time with her. To talk and laugh and hear her heart. But the kids barely ate, which led to bad naps, which translated into whining and restless pushing of limits the rest of the evening. I felt frusterated, fed-up, short-tempered and angry. I didnt want to be around my kids, didn't care that they were doing cute things amongst the annoying and I just couldn't wait for 7:00. I must have checked the clock on the oven a million times. 6:23 ... 6:31...6:38...oh come on!... 7:00 YES! BEDTIME!!!

I finally sat down to eat with my sisters (the other had now joined) and Macy was up having to go "potty". I was mad...until I came in to check on her and my sweet baby girl was crying on the toilet sick with much more than "potty" if you know what I mean. And then I hear Carter scream out of a dead sleep and I run up to his gargling and coughing and and rubbing his eyes because he's so stinkin' tired but just can't breathe. ... Did I forget to mention both my kids are sick? That's because I didn't care... when I was frusterated and just plain 'done' this afternoon, it didn't matter to me that they were not eating, sleeping or playing happily because they didn't feel good... I was just annoyed and tired and didn't want to award sympathy to anyone but myself. And now? Now, that they're asleep and I've calmed down and am just remembering the misery on their faces and tears on their cheeks... Now I'm feeling guilty and sad and like a kind of secret failure.

And I kind of want to laugh because this, THIS blog was NOT supposed to be about my kids...I wanted this place to be my safe haven to prove that I had other intellectual things to think and write about. Other things to contemplate and share.
But my heart is wrapped up in these two litte ones and the way they swing me daily. I hate that every instance that I love being a mom, gets coupled with a moment of absolute disgust at the 'unfairness' of my life. I hate that I sound that way and think that way. I want to shout that it isn't really me or how I feel because there are an eternity of heart-bursting-from-my-chest wonderful moments... but doesn't it have to be me as well because of how many lose-my-mind-in-frusteration, can't-do-this-anymore moments I find myself in as well? I want to believe I'm not as selfish as I probably sound in this, but right now I'm feeling pretty low down on the "super mom" meter. So I'm just gonna leave it at that...anyone else experience the mood swings that can NOT be blamed on hormones?

Where did I go?

2007-05-16T11:56:00.000-07:00

Every once in a while I'll find myself in the middle of feeding, or changing diapers, or disciplining or washing clothes or doing dishes or holding a crying baby or a feverish one... or even smack in the middle of the most delightful tickle fest with my giggling babies... and I'll stop (which is a rare occurence for me at best) and this bewildered voice from deep inside will ask, "How in the world did I get here?". Literally in the blink of a second a full fledged conversation ensues;

"How is this my life? I don't even recognize myself"
"Well that isn't so bad, you love your life"
"Yeah but it doesn't contain any of who I use to be"
"You're being dramatic, you like the ways you've grown up, you wouldn't trade it"
"But I'm nothing but a mom now, nothing special or spectacular or deep about me even exists anymore"
"Okay, now you're dramatic AND selfish, stop it and go wipe Macy's nose"

And so goes this battle within me between the girl I knew back in college who loved to sit and ponder and share and get into the thick of the lives around her. The girl who had her whole life ahead of her to do amazing and incredibly meaningful things and who had time to curl up with her thoughts of God and life and after pondering, to pour them before the Lord, authentically seeking refinement; change. This girl seems to have been clobbered by the daily life of a wife and mother. One who intensely loves her husband and children and the place this 'adult life' has brought her; but simultaneously feels stifled by the roles and responsabilities that come with them. How can a person feel 'stifled' by the very lives she'd give her own for? My thought life feels like one gigantic contradiction these days. I will passionately long for the ways and heart of God, for vulnerability and relationship with Him like I swear I used to feel... and in the same breath I'll then cynically roll my eyes at the drama of it all, resolving to 'get real' and just DO the things God calls us to, forgetting any emotional or even spiritual tie to any of it.

So here I am, this is me. As said before, my thought life these days is a jumbled mess of contradictions...but can you blame me? It's been almost three years since I have had quietness in which to train and track my mind. I will begin to embark down a thoughtful path, pondering some question or emotion I feel deeply and then BAM; a cry, a call for "MOMMY", dinner, smelly diaper, the phone, the buzzer... who knows...but it's back to reality and the immediate-ness of my current life. I think that is the main reason I've decided to attempt this new blog journal; I crave contemplation, consolidation and (oh the glory!) actual conclusion of my ponderings.

So after all that... as my sweet friend Erica put it... Here's to it!