Our Two Newest ...

     It's been too long.

     I haven't set word to paper for months and sometimes I fear I am by far the worse for it!  But then, I am 1/3 again the Mom I was then, with two little girls having joined our family since my last post.  I've been neglectful of this sacred place.  I've been reckless with my heart in having done so.  Writing is breath.  I determine to begin again.  But before I do, let me make introductions...

Here is WHY I've been so neglectful...  

    Scarlette Rachele Peck, born about a week before my last post is now 17 months old.  Ella Vivienne Peck, joining us in May of 2011 is now just over 3 months.  They are the pink frill around the edges of our scrappy crew, and SO worth the wait!  

     With their arrivals has come not only a new onslaught of chaos and madness in the every-dailiness of life, but also an unexpected downpour of peace.  Not stillness, but peace.  We feel complete.  Made whole.  For now...  And with that peace, my heart has been renewed in both resolve and resources for this blog.  My girls have taught me much.  I never cease to be astonished at God's amazing ability to show Himself and His robust LOVE through the most fragile of beings.  I find clarity in this chaos- and hope to begin the translation again.  Please join.  I have never seen Him more clearly than through the filter of motherhood.  Perhaps you can relate? 

The Trouble with Band-aids Pt. 2

THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES: EXPERIENCING GOD'S LOVE FOR ME THROUGH MY OWN EXPERIENCE OF LOVE FOR MY CHILDREN....

And so, we left off with my deep confession. It may be yours, too: The fear of the band-aid. The desire to be healed and tended, but the genuine, accompanying dread of the process to follow.....and the conflict therein.

You see, I love being known, no matter how I run from it.

And my kids do, too. (And YOURS do, too). You want to know how I know? Because we are all just little kids...to God. And every little example of their simple hearts are easily likened to our simple hearts and minds- to Him.

I do. I love it. I need it and crave it. As a woman, a daughter, a wife, a mother- a human being, I NEED to know that I am fully known. And for all his best efforts, my husband cannot give me that. My children cannot give me that. My girlfriends, even, come close- but cannot give it to me either. I sit alone sometimes in some variation of a long standing hurt and am keenly aware that nobody knows my sadness. Nobody here, anyway, and that sense of alone-ness makes my hurt- hurt more.

I will admit, some aspect of anyone- anyone knowing me as well as I long to be known is a bit intimidating. After all, surely you can agree with this: the closer IN someone get to your heart, simply by their knowledge of you, your heart- the more power they have to wittingly or unwittingly HURT you. Yes? Still, I want it. I long for it. It’s quite a conflict. A bit like the band-aid conflict, only not nearly as conscious a plight….


I got a sweet example the other day that took me back quite a bit, but truly reinforced this truth: No matter how scary or even 'uncomfortable' being KNOWN may be, truly, it’s what I want even more than I want to be safe from pain.......
Avery and Emerson were up early in the morning together as usual, though only Em goes to school at 8:30. They'd had breakfast and were slowly getting dressed....they were losing focus....(can you imagine?)...playing with toys, neglecting shoes/socks/backpacks......I was getting frustrated. They were in particular, fascinated with a toy stamp....(which had already become a full-sleeve tattoo for Desi when he'd gotten hold of it the day before, as well as a lovely wallpaper in the hallway when Gaby had gotten hold of it the day before that.... and was now in about 30 different green bunny-heads swiftly become a full pair of gloves all over Avery's hands...) I lost it- but am happy to say that somehow, I did so with self-control.

I spoke evenly, without too much emotion. Pure, simple. “I'm sorry. It's gone. It’s caused too much trouble already and I’m sorry, I’m just done with this toy. Sorry, guys…” and I threw it away. My mistake was apparently not so much in letting them know I would be throwing it way, but rather, doing so in front of them- mostly because Emerson is a bit of hoarder. The need to keep everything, broken or unnecessary, found on the ground- doesn’t matter. Everything needs a home. In our home….
On his way out the door about a half hour later, I caught Emerson whispering something into Avery’s ear after I’d looked up to wave one last goodbye. It occurred to me then that he was very likely giving instructions to Avery (30 minutes at least post-event) to retrieve the stamp from the garbage at his earliest ability. To be honest, I’d forgotten all about it, but simply knowing Em the way I do brought back the situation to my mind.
Luckily, Avery is about as flighty in his attention span as I right now, so we both immediately forgot the stamp again after Em’s departure. Around 11, while getting Avy ready for school, it occurred to me again. I looked at Avy and simply asked him, “Hey, Av. When Em was leaving for school and he whispered in your ear, did he say something like, “Avy, when Mama isn’t looking, get that little stamp back out of the garbage and hide it…Ok?”

If I could have captured my 5 year olds’ face at that moment, it would be my forever reminder of this love to be known. It was a perfect mixture of shock, wonder and …. Adoration?

Avery had an immediate response, but NOT the one I anticipated. FAR from it, in fact. He ran straight to me, with his hand still over his mouth and threw his arms around my waist. I thought we’d both go down, he hit me so hard. I was bewildered and probably every bit as shocked as he had been only a moment before. What was this? What happened to, “Aw shucks, she caught us,” and all that???????

He said only one thing. And the authenticity still gives me a bit of a fist in my throat: “Mama, you’re the BEST Mama in the whole world!!!”- and through all my wonder, his arms held fast around me. He literally melted into my side for minutes on end as I gathered my reaction and attempted to reframe it as the picture of what it really was.
The LOVE of being known.

In the honesty of a child, he simply by-passed getting caught, losing the stamp, even the shock/wonder or frustration of feeling like he’s been caught in something….and dove straight into the comfort and security and LOVE of the frail little human heart that desperately longs to be KNOWN. His reaction was completely based on knowing he had a built in security, an automatic acceptance- a proven awareness that he could neither slip through the cracks or off my radar- even if he momentarily wanted to. He felt safe. Known. Seen. Treasured.

His response of love proved it.

I was not the evil Mama who threw a toy away. I was the best Mama in the world for knowing what was going on in those two little hearts, devious or not- and he simply couldn’t contain the assurance of my love that came along with it.

I recognized myself there, and remembered the band-aid. The desire to be tended to…the anticipation of hurt that may come in sticking it on. The truth that my Father, the best Father in the whole world, knows my heart as well as the healing process going on beneath the band-aid, and when exactly to take it back off- even the momentary hurt that accompanies it.
He knows me. He knows my wounds. He knows my every little itty-bitty particle of composition. I AM safe, band-aid fears and all, as long as I’m this sure of that.

And guess what? You are, too.

The Trouble with Band-aids

THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES: EXPERIENCING GOD'S LOVE FOR ME THROUGH MY OWN EXPERIENCE OF LOVE FOR MY CHILDREN....

It’s a love-hate thing with band-aids

The funny thing - they tend to hurt on both sides of the process…it can be rather confusing, don’t you think?

You know the drill.... Your child wants one intensely- or absolutely does not, and every bit as vehemently. He cries for one when he sees the pink of a scrape or the crimson of a cut, then refuses it as his attention drifts to watching you prepare it. Watching you move in, closer and closer to the point of contact.
You know why. Let’s face it. No matter the intention of a band-aid. No matter the medication on it or the end result in mind- the sticking ON and peeling OFF, just plain hurts. Your child knows it. That’s why she cries. You know it too, that’s why her cry hurts your heart and not your ears. BUT, being older and wiser, you have expanded knowledge of the process occurring in between. You have the capacity to let intellect a focal point on the horizon- Healing- and can skip over the journey, in part. You know the pain is worth the pay off. The sticking on lasts one second- then comes relief. The peeling off lasts one second, revealing the magic of the band-aid: Restoration. Repair. Regeneration.

Somehow, though- this doesn’t deflate the crisis of the band-aid. For either of you. They don’t want to hurt, even for a second. And you don’t want them to either. You certainly don’t want to be the one adding to their wound…but it’s a tricky business loving someone else more than they love themselves. Being torn between ‘saving’ them from feelings and doing what is for their greater good. And therein lies the conflict with band-aids.

For all of us. Even God, I think.

“So He became their Savior.
In all their affliction, He was afflicted.
And the angel of His presence saved them;
In His love in and in His mercy He redeemed them;
And He lifted them and carried them-”

This is only one of a tight little fistful of verses I love to keep wadded up in my heart. When the Word of God speaks to me of Jesus understanding when, where and why I hurt- how it differs from every other person on this planet- (not because no other person has been wounded in similar ways, but because my heart was fashioned uniquely, Ps 119- and my response to these wounds is, accordingly, unique-) when the Word reassures me of this, I feel safe even inside my crippled state. Mental. Physical. Emotional. That He knit me in my mother’s womb. That He knows me better than I know myself. That my own heart can deceive me, but He cannot. That He is mindful of my frame, how truly like ‘dust’ I am…. I love to know these truths- that Jesus alone has intimate knowledge of the fine line defining where my sorrows or my afflictions differ from anyone else’s.

And I love to know this because I don’t want to be alone there. In the times I am hurt. Or alone. Or afraid. Others may say they understand- and can try. But they don’t have MY heart or its responses. They don’t have my reasons, my own perspective or frame around the events that landed me wherever I sit, crying like a little girl (even if only inside.) Bottom line: They don’t KNOW ME. Only He does.

As a mother, we can’t KNOW our children the way only HE does either. But we’re most definitely next in line. Can’t you sometimes see a look on your child’s face and KNOW the emotion behind it- even before full expression has been revealed? A sliver of a wrinkle on the brow? A down-cast glance. A drop of the shoulders or even a slowing of pace? Sometimes, something even less. But YOU see it. Probably only YOU see it. And it moves you, literally. It’s the black and white checkered flag. Engines rev. Mama moves… Because you can’t stand them to be in pain- because you can feel that pain as much as anyone on Earth can. And you can’t stand it.

I know I can’t. Example:

One day I knew ahead of time that the boys would be getting shots at school and I was a mess all day. I had prepped them, without wanting to fill the first half of their day with dread, with all I could - comfort and reassurance in the ‘what if…’ realm. “I want you to know that if anything scares you, or makes you feel hurt or afraid, I want you to remember that even if I’m not there….I’m there in your heart. And GOD IS there. Right next to you. You just hold on for one second, and remember that, ok?” Bewildered faces. Uncomprehending “Ok’s” and off they went- straight into the day with no clue what was awaiting them.

I agonized all day long. Should I show up un-announced? To be there beside them? Would it embarrass them? If I shielded them from everything, how would God get to reveal Himself in HIS OWN WAY to them. Did I trust Him enough to let it go and LET Him be there? I watched the clock. I paced around the house. I hated the day. I did. Rediculous, right? But I knew my children would feel fear that day and I wouldn’t be there. They would feel pain, and be afraid to cry in front of the other kids, have to stuff their feelings, endure it alone… I wouldn’t be there. I almost couldn’t stand it. It took FAR more discipline and trust and faith for ME to make it through the day, than for them. That’s how it is for parents- moms in particular. It hurts when your child hurts.

I waited in line in the car, nervous, nearly retching, to find their faces in the crowd of kids swarming the cars at pick-up time. They came out smiling, running to race each other to the car, bursting in the side doors to tell me something of this or that about their class or their friends…..and oh by the way- we got shots today! I rolled my eyes at my self and my wasted day. But I can’t help myself. I’m their mother. It’s what I do.

I’m pretty sure it’s what God does, too. Even though He allows the pain to come. He let’s us grow through things, even possibly feeling alone- to teach us how to recognized HIM there, in the midst of our collision and woundedness so we’ll KNOW we’re not. Not really. But it takes discipline I’m SURE. Think He doesn’t WANT to come racing down to save us from the wreck before we have to live with the wreckage? He does. Think He doesn’t agonize over if or not to let us spill tears when He could just eliminate the source of sadness before it strikes? Think He didn’t have to use every bit of self control to NOT save His own child from the treachery of the cross? Think he wouldn’t rather just wrap us all up, the way I sometimes want to wrap my own babies up, and tell us to “put your goggles on and get back in bed!”? Keep us safe from the world? Shielded. Naïve, but safe?

He would. He’d rather we never felt a twinge of an ache in body or heart. Read Isaiah. Read Jeremiah. He’d rather carry us above it all and care for us as the Ewe cares for her lambs. But that would never help us in the long run. If he saved us from all pain- we know it would eliminate free choice. Others’ free choice is often the reason for our hurt. Our free choice, often the reason for our own or others’ hurt. And we know He has chosen against that in favor of true love. So that option is out.

But the band-aid issue is not. What if He wouldn’t stick one on for sake of the single moment of contact? Or because of the single moment of peeling it back off? Would He ever sacrifice our healing for those two tiny moments? Even if we asked Him to?
Confession: I ask Him to all the time. I pretty much AM any one of my children at any given time, wounded, craving comfort and longing for tender-loving aid, but then reeling back in resistance when He offers the first step in the healing process. The stick-on. Never mind. I’ll tend to it myself. Let it fester. Let it drag on and on and on. I’ll ‘deal’ with it…….forever, as opposed to taking the steps.

Because they hurt. And I’m not looking for anything else to add to my hurt.

My major shortcoming? Fear of the band-aid....

Pt 2 on the way!

Be Your Father's Baby-

THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES: EXPERIENCING GOD'S LOVE FOR ME THROUGH MY OWN EXPERIENCE OF LOVE FOR MY CHILDREN.....

(a devotion begun when Gabriel was only a baby....finished now, when he's still my baby...)

Today I was walking up the hill from the mailbox holding Gabriel, my “Gaby Baby” in my arms. He was lying on his back looking up at me as we walked. His eyes were a bit wide with the bounce of my step, so for reassurance, I pulled him up close to my face and whispered, “See? I do all the work. You just have to trust me. That’s your whole job. Lie there in my arms and trust me. That’s it. I won’t drop you, ever.” And I wouldn’t. And neither would his father.
When the picture entered my mind of dropping him, it occurred to me how naturally I would sacrifice myself in any way NOT to. I’d do anything NOT to. I remembered a story my mom had told me of a time when as an infant, my grandma had been carrying me when she fell. Somehow, she ended up with a series of really horrible bruises and a black eye, but her arms held me up and I never suffered more than a slight drop in gravity. She took the fall. She guarded me. That’s what we do with babies. That’s what I would do. That’s what Gaby’s father would do, and it echoed in my head like a soft message right back to ME…

Lie there in my arms and trust that I won’t drop you.

It’s my job to walk steady, watch for cracks in the way, stumbling blocks. And you’d better believe that if anything trips us up, MY elbow, MY knee, My foot, even MY chin – SOME part of MY body will make it’s way to hit the pavement first before a single hair of your head touches the hard ground. I will absorb as much of the impact as humanly possible for you. You just lie there and trust me.

In fact, isn't there a confirmation of this in Psalm 62, vs 1-2, that says, “My soul waits in silence for God only; From Him is my salvation. He only is my rock and my salvation, My stronghold; I shall not be greatly shaken,” NOT that you won't be shaken, because there will be bumps. But you can be sure when you hit a bump, HE took the hard hit, and YOU got shaken...but not shaken greatly. You are still safe and sound. Like a baby.

It’s easy for babies though, right? I mean, they don’t know otherwise. They have been trusting our arms to hold them safely since the day they were born. But as we grow it gets harder, doesn’t it? We learn to lean on and put our trust in other things, because sometimes other things do really hold us up nicely, for a while. And yet, no matter how trustworthy those thing seem, at some point, every single thing we learn to lean on: chair, wall, ourselves, a friend, a spouse- every single one of them has the potential and likelihood of an eventual crumble. Not one of them can promise - and follow through with “always absorbing the impact” of a fall for us, to “not let a hair of your head hit the ground” in that fall, should there be come to be one. The quality of the chair or wall, the wounded nature of the other human being isn’t made up of the integrity to be able to back a promise like that, even with the best of intentions.

It seemed to me, as I ascended the hill, that I was walking a parallel: We grow farther and farther from trusting God as we grow older. We lean on others and ourselves. In fact, I’d go as far as to say that the greatest struggle in getting older is actually in trying to go backwards- back to the time when it was easy to trust. Back before something gave way and it hurt when nobody broke our fall. Back to the simple, know-no-other-trust of our youth, when it came naturally to put our trust where it belonged; in the One who loved us the most. And we knew instinctively who that was.

But that instinct gets fuzzy with age. Where does it belong- our trust? It’s easy to lie in arms you can literally feel, or at least arms you can imagine yourself in. It’s not so easy to be carried by the unseen. It’s not nearly as instinctive to “let go” and let faith carry us up the hill. Putting the faith to the test to drop us or not must be a very selective process, and a difficult one as it turns out, to come to the right conclusion. Gaby doesn’t have to struggle with this yet. I do. Probably you do too. I struggle every day to just lie there and put my trust where it belongs; not in another person. Not in myself. Not in a structure of any sort. Not even in the love of my life with all his beautiful skin on – or for those of us still awaiting him, putting trust in the dream of him and our “someday.” He’ll fall. He will. In some way, big or small. I know, because we all do. We all fall who have too much trust placed in us.

So remember, and revel in gratitude this any-season season, that (even if you have one already, or are still waiting for one), you don’t need a prince in order to be a princess. All you need in order to be a princess- is to be the daughter of a King.

The King.

And a daughter is a child. And a child is somebody’s baby. And a baby trusts her Father’s arms.

Happy Monday, Happy new week, all you lovely Princesses.

An Offering of Love

THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES: EXPERIENCING GOD'S LOVE FOR ME THROUGH MY OWN EXPERIENCE OF LOVE FOR MY CHILDREN...

(Note: Ladies, if you have any women in your lives you think may be blessed by these devotions, please send me their email address, or have them send it to me at: bmybutterfly8@charter.net and I will happily add them to the 'group list')

I.

Gabriel has spent the last 4 weeks of both our lives tipping and teetering the orbit of things around here. This tipping and teetering phenomenon isn’t unusual for Gaby, per say (as many of you who know him KNOW)…but it isn’t generally in this direction.

Ladies, he has cleared year 4 and by all evidences, we are heading UP!

Let me tell you what I mean.

Lately, Gaby has taken to intensely expressing his love and adoration for me. He can't sit on my lap for me to tie his shoe, stand in front of me looking up while I do his hair- even emerge from the downstairs each morning to come greet me in the morning without it being a fully-engaged, eye-to-eye, and often hands slapped to both sides of my cheeks to be sure my eyes don't wander ...offering. That genuinely seems the right word: An offering of love. Like a prayer, in fact. I'll elaborate later...

I've been a Mom long enough now to know that it could be any number of factors:

1. It could simply be his age. Maybe turning 4 has impacted him to a greater degree than it did my other boys.
2. It could be his growing awareness of the boy/girl thing, venturing into those waters where I am the ultimate 'trial' ground.
3.It may be that he’s sensing that the new baby is coming soon, and he's feeling the need to be closer to me than usual... (Generally speaking, however, the boys have tended to become clingy when a new baby was to arrive, keeping the death-grip on me, trying to absorb from me in their rivaly against this unseen competition- It has NOT typically been a stance of GIVING TO me.)
4. Or possibly, he has reached a maturity level wherein he’s discovered that he is able to express his own feelings by himself and is enjoying.

I think it fair to say it could be a bit of all four, but I’m strongly led to believe it is predominantly the latter. I am of the pursuation that Gabriel has reached some sort of milestone in his developement wherein he finds it liberating to be able to put words to his feelings and competently express those feelings now in both word AND deed.

He will come to me from nowhere- find me anywhere in the house and simply hold his hands up. But he is not asking to be held. He is asking me to meet him on his level. As soon as I bend down, squat (and pray to keep my balance these days....) he will immediately tell me repetitively, "Mommy, I love you soooooo much," and follow it with hands on my cheeks and a little red lips-blossom, puckered up and ready for at least 10, AT LEAST 10 precious and intentional kisses. There have been times I've actually signalled Aaron for help! I'm being attacked, mauled...(though in the best way possible!) As we speak, in fact, he is kissing my elbow...as I type. Why? I don't know- but it's getting wet.

II.

And this goes on day in and day out lately. If I'm on the couch doing laundry, cooking dinner, cleaning a bathroom, even out in the garage sorting......he can find me. And to be honest, it's taken some adjustment on my part. I keep expecting him to NEED something from me. To be looking for something I have. To be tattling on someone and summoning my referee skills...something of that variety- wherein I am the great pool of resources and he is simply in need of one of them...

But, the longer this persists, the more I am relaxing into the revelation that perhaps Gabriel has simply matured to a degree that has set me off guard, but set him- free. His love being handed out this uninhibited seems to fuel in him the desire to do it again, and do it again! And I can expect now, on any given day, that at least 4-5 times, I will be enraptured by those little reflective, sparkling eyes beckoning me down to his level. I will be grasped by those teeny little arms launching around me their most fierce attempt at entrapment, and presented those absolutely perfect rosebud lips adorning me with petals enough to last the day through- and leave me drifting about with a sweeter fragrance than before....

It is a blessing to me. A surprise blessing.

But it's more. In many ways, Gaby has been the child through whom God has been able to speak many of his messages most clearly to me. He's been such a challenge, in the midst of his loveliness, that I've either been begging the Lord for an answer- "What do I do with this kid???" or....less comfortably, seeing in him the very reflection of me. I am unable, it seems to NOT see my own self as a child before the Lord:

Pushing it to the limit.
Not asking for what I want, just throwing a fit after not getting it. Or a mean pity party.
Testing the limitations of when I'll get a warning vs. when I'll actually get spanked.
Resisting when asked...
Demanding instead of using my 'manners'...
Stubbornly taking the time-out before saying 'I'm sorry'
And on and on and on... and in light of that, Gaby has been, as he continues to be, a mighty tool in God's hand as He continues the arduous work of 'shaping' me.

So, this new adventure with Gaby has brought to my mind a concept I may not have heeded before... and I can’t help but think of my own maturity.

Even as Mothers, I can't overlook in this one: Our own maturity in the Lord and the stages we go through- stages we are meant to move through as we grow spiritually from being babies needing only "milk" in the Faith into strong and steadfast women, who know how to stand in our place and fulfill what He's asked of us- leaning then upon and taking in the "solid food".

See Hebrews 5:12-14
"12 In fact, though by this time you ought to be teachers, you need someone to teach you the elementary truths of God's word all over again. You need milk, not solid food! 13 Anyone who lives on milk, being still an infant, is not acquainted with the teaching about righteousness. 14 But solid food is for the mature, who by constant use have trained themselves to distinguish good from evil."

I am reminded that we are to ADVANCE, as Gabriel is advancing, in his maturity- so we are to move from milk to solid food- but that it is possible to revert...... and to get comfortable there, stuck there in the comfort of suckling our faith along rather than continuing to pump iron for sake of our faith muscles!

After all, we never intend to get stuck, as grown adults, as women, as mothers of our own children, in a place where we still NEED His attention constantly lavished upon us to encourage us in baby steps forward, but sometimes we do. We stop moving at some point, maybe after some pain, some wound comes our way, some disillusionment with the WAY we thought God would or should handle on of our many crises... and we clutch the ground He's claimed for us...sit down upon it with our arms crossed and demand that if we are to move an inch farther into uncharted territory, He is going to need to SHOW us that land and be soley responsible for giving us the cheerleading and security- require zero to little faith FROM us, as well as maintain that security- and this, even after we've known Him well enough and long enough that we ought to be able and willing to stand on unstable ground, uncomfortable perhaps, but steadfast nonetheless, in peaceful stoicism. No matter the terrain. That is maturity.

III.

That is called maturity.

Not having to have HIM constantly court US, reveal His love as real and true to US, unremittingly woo US and prove His devotion, never mind that He's already done this once and for all in the ultimate act of allegiance on the cross. He will not, even having done this for us, leave us in that infantile place where He must remain a one-diminsional God, mainly a pool of resources into which we tap upon each awareness of a need.

After all He knew us when we were yet in the womb (Psalm 139). He KNOWS our needs better than we do (Matt 6:7-8). He even meets our needs before we're aware enough to ask for them! "For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you." (Matthew 6:25-33 NKJV)

Let's remember that though it sounds strange at first, it isn’t actually necessary for us to pray to God to let Him know who we are or what we need - He can read the heart like an open book. He already knows what we need before we ask, and has therefore set all things that are needful into motion to achieve our highest good. That is what we can count on when we reach the stage of taking in "solid food".

We pray, to acknowledge our connection with Him. To confess, so to speak, that He is who He says He is and can do what He says He can and will do. We take Him at His word, by praying, recognizing Him as God in all circumstances- happy or sad. And we stand upon it.

We pray to attest to the fact that, even if we are asking for something, in need...that He is capable of meeting that need, and believing that in His goodness, He is will.

We pray because it connects us to God and opens our eyes to the fact that we’re not alone. We pray because it encourages us to acknowledge God as our refuge and strength–a very present help in trouble. (Psalms 46:1)

And dare I say it, we pray to reciprocate. To GIVE TO Him. An offering of love. (Is this sounding familiar?)

As baby Christians, he woos and cradles us. He gives us milk to take in as nourishment, a strong sense of comfort and love and security we may not have known before. But as we grow, as we do of our own children, doesn’t God expect of us a maturity level that yields s stance of giving back….to others, to our families, our children, the body……..and to HIM?

This is challenging me this week…

I wonder, am I lavishing my affections in my prayers? Am I verbalizing (even if silently in my heart) my adoration of Him? Am I, figuratively speaking, taking his face in my hands and kissing and kissing and kissing his cheeks or His proverbial 'elbows' and repeating my “I love you’s” until my breath runs out? Am I ascending new heights of maturity in my faith? Heights the lead me to GIVE TO HIM? My love? My affection? My heart of love in word AND deed? Am I being like Gaby? Using my (perhaps for some of us, newfound) maturity level to USE my skills of faith to LOVE my Father?

Or am I like usual, assuming my maturity relates to being thirty-semething, responsible for more than ever before, knee deep in laundry, dishes, tripping over children (literally) as I try to move about my duties?

Am I acknowledging that in my walk, I am not only called to be a Mother, but also a child who can finally and without inhibition match my heart for my Father with my expression?

Am I taking even a bit of time to let the world stop, so I can pull my Jesus close to me and REQUIRE of Him ONLY that he LET ME GIVE my love to Him?

I’ll bet He’d stop, arrested by His child's adoration, much faster than I do…… After all, it's his little child trying to love on him.

And how goooooooooood does THAT feel?

THE ROMANCE OF A CHILD...

THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES- EXPERIENCING GOD'S LOVE FOR ME THROUGH MY OWN HEART OF LOVE FOR MY CHILDREN...

The Romance of a Child:

My oldest son, Emerson, has for reasons the Lord and I and a few others perhaps know, is a piece of my heart I cannot explain. I don’t love him more than my other children, but something is different in the way I see him. The way I can see him. I feel him differently, like I can feel his own feelings even when he isn’t with me and it’s an amazing comfort, but sometimes, a genuine, gut-wrenching pain. Sometimes, somewhere in the day when he is away at school, I can feel something wrong, some sadness, some feeling of insecurity or rejection and I can’t tell where it’s coming from. He will almost always tell me later of some event that wounded his heart that day, at that time, at school. I’ve learned to trust it.

He was a gift to me in a time when I thought I’d likely not smile again. Ever. I mean that. I fell so low at one point in my life that the thought of anything bringing me joy ever again felt foreign and abstract. Especially something that not only would bring me joy but would also give my life purpose and meaning and, dare I say it, LOVE, a safely exchanged back and forth kind of love was beyond me when it happened, and to this day, still catches me off guard. He is tucked in a different pocket as I walk about my days and my life. I can’t change it or apologize for it. God gifted him at the time HE chose, and I simply responded by taking one more breath. I have always – since having kids – seen my ultimate goal as keeping them taking one more breath, both physically and spiritually (when you really break it down)…but Emerson did this for me. Or, God through Emerson, did this for me. That’s the truth.

The funny part is that this gift my son has given to me seems to continue on and on, taking new form and shape as the years go by. Right now, it is in the way this child romances his own Mother, and looks like this:

There is NEVER a time that he comes to me from school, from the park with his Daddy, from being with his grandparents, even an hour at church- on any front, there is never a time that he comes from anywhere, having been apart from me for any length of time, without some version of a gift for me. They can be tiny little gifts- “treasures” he calls them…all the way to a bouquet of flowers.

The point is, he brings something to present to me. And he does it for 3 reasons that I can detect: 1. To express his own love to/for me 2. to tell me he has remembered me while we were parted and 3. to simply delight me. My Son has caught my attention- and this week, I believe has been used by the Lord Jesus to call me out in regards to my own “Romancing- (active)” of my Father and Savior….

It occurs to me only now, in having been so blessed by being the recipient of such expressions of adoration, that I am not only a Mom and a Wife. I am a child of God, too. And one matured enough to not simply wait for the Lord to forever be pouring His own gifts of love upon me…..though He does…..but to BE the Child who Romances My Maker. No matter what I have to ‘do’ today. Or any day.

Do you ever feel like simply a ‘means to an end’ for your children? They are hungry? Thirsty. Need something up high? They got in a fight with a sibling, have a job they need help with, something they are afraid of……and this is the sole reason they are even standing before you at the moment they are? They have a need. They know YOU are the ultimate means to satisfying that need. And thus, they come to you. Do you think God ever feels this way? Do you think he ever feels it from you? THIS is what is bothering me. I think He does feel that from me. I get caught up in what is, after all, our correct roles, right? I’m the child. He’s my Father. I’m the weak and needy one. He is the Creator of the Universe. I am confused and conflicted by the world or people or my own emotions while HE is omniscient, immoveable and knows me and my heart better than I do, myself. HE is MY resource!

Does He NEED my gifts? Does He NEED to know He’s remembered? Does He NEED to be delighted? After all, HE IS GOD! OF course He doesn’t NEED…..but would His heart blossom a little to get them anyway? I mean, yes, He can supply all this for Himself, surrounding Himself with angelic hosts. Building in a choir around His own thrown to sing His praises… He knows His own Greatness! Better than we do! After all, we can relate a bit, yes? A tad?

As Moms, we KNOW all that we do for our kids. Things they’ll never even suspect. We know all we do behind the scenes to make their lives full and happy. To meet their needs, sometimes needs they don’t even know they have- or know how to ask for. We know our capability to love them, to care for them, to BE what they need- more than any other human being on the planet…but doesn’t it feel nice to get a flower???? From tiny hands? From a heart so genuine, there’s no request following? From a child in love with you? Isn’t it sweet, especially when it’s NOT the normal roles? You- the giver. They- the nest of baby birds, open-mouthed every moment, awaiting YOUR next provision?

And have we, from time to time, STUCK our tender Jesus in a role we feel no need to let him free of? Have we become open-mouthed baby birds, just awaiting HIS love, HIS aid, HIS help, HIS provision…only?

Yes, He asked us to trust in his exactly that way. He did ask us to look to Him first. To call on His name and see Him for all the magnificence that accompanies the CREATOR. But didn’t He also choose to make us? And to NOT make us robots? To give us a choice in relationship to Him? To CHOOSE to love Him or not???? Has our Father not made His own heart vulnerable in doing so?

But wouldn’t He love to feel the way Em makes ME feel? Loved? Cherished? Remembered. Never put away. Delighted? Doesn’t my Father long to feel these things too? After all, I’m not only called to love my children, but “The Lord my God,” and that – first.

I’m thinking this week, I may be needing to follow my son’s example. Perhaps in my flurry of caretaking those beneath my eye level, I’ve forgotten to practice A CHILD’S ROMANCE.

It’s simple really.

Emerson does this as an expression of love. A love gesture. An out-reach. And while that is flattering enough, what’s more- he offers it in MY area of greatest possible reception. My ‘love language’- if you will. He brings me things that he knows I would love, not just things anyone should. He brings me tiny things. He brings me flowers. He brings me pink things. He brings me sparkly things. He KNOWS me. Emerson has watched me over the years, the things I gravitate towards. The gifts I’ve been given by his father and my own mother, mostly, things about which people who know me would say, “That is sooooo Leanne!” He KNOWS me. A gift in itself. He’s cared enough to make sure of it, and doesn’t give me things anymore that just anyone would like. But rather, things that I, his Mommy, a person of my own, would LOVE.

Emerson does this to give me a message: that he remembered me. While we were apart, he remembered me. He stuffs his pockets all day long- in the classroom, lunchroom, on the playground, even the cafeteria. Anywhere, really. He sees something, thinks of me and gathers it among his other ‘treasures’. In this way, he doesn’t actually leave my presence or simply forget me when we’re apart UNTIL he sees me again. I am in his heart, and it is evidenced by a collection of pink sparkly stickers, sequins, a few flowers, some young girl’s lost-but-lovely hair ribbon, even glitter glued to a bit of artwork.

Emerson loves to delight ME. This is not for his gain, except that it gives him joy to see ME delighted. He hands me his ‘treasures’ when he gets in the car each afternoon and just watches- waits for my smile- waits for the kiss to come his way. He longs to see me flattered, to see me blush, to watch me FEEL loved. He doesn’t ask what I’ve brought him. This is enough.

As I can see it, this love/romance of his-ours is good for him, too. He is learning about his role as a man, mimicking his Daddy’s actions and learning to be genuine with his heart- not to mention the obvious...(It’s awesome for me!!!! But, even better for his future wife.) He is learning how to write his own love song, for someone ELSE.

But can you, can I transpose this song? Or have we gotten out of ‘shape’- comfortable in our roles as we go about ‘doing everything for everyone’ and simply NEEDING God to assist us in doing so? Have we, anywhere along the way, forgotten to remember that we too, like children, have amazing capacity to bring joy to our own Father’s heart???? I think I may be guilty of this. I get consumed. I start to see God as the ultimate resource for me to make it through the day! And HE IS this, but He is so much more. Isn’t He?

Isn’t He lovely? Isn’t He wonderful? Isn’t He deserving of my praise AND adoration AND expressions of love? Isn’t He humble and gentle and affected by MY affections? Isn’t HE carrying a heart that longs for the love of HIS children, too?

WHAT IF– We romanced God? What if we showed Him that we DO KNOW HIM. What pleases Him. The kinds of things, behaviors and words that HE loves. What if we did the things HE loves? Read His Word? Spoke and listened to Him? Acted out His commandments? Treated one another the way He’s asked us to? What if we brought to HIM the sacrifice HE loves- praise? What if we offered genuine expressions of our love to Him daily, without all the requests to follow?

WHAT IF- We remembered God? All through the day, I mean. What if, when we got busy, and ‘left’ His presence, we still kept Him alive in our hearts and gathered evidences of this all day long? What if we didn’t just start the day touching base, then check out until our chores were done and our heads were about to hit the pillow, or dinner time came and we remembered to pray again? What if we dipped in and out of seeing Him everywhere, and gathered up the little stones of rememberance- chalking up lists of His goodness to present Him with when next we were able to sit for a moment and ‘see His face’????


WHAT IF- We only longed to delight HIM? What if we brought to Him the gifts of selflessness? What if our aim was to watch for HIS smile? To try to make HIM blush? To offer to Him the praises that would flatter even the God of all Creation? How would HE feel then? How would WE feel? As good as Emerson, maybe?

If so, I want that. Emerson literally GLOWS on the drive home from his own ROMANCING. He is a changed boy. It’s as if loving on ME, changes HIM. I swear, for a few minutes of time, he is not seeing my resources. He is seeing ME, and he’s changed for it. He could walk on air. And so could I.

For one single moment in time, our relationship is all new. Revived. No matter how tired I am or how tired he is, we are both new for a suspended segment of time. No matter our normal roles, giver and receiver…in this moment, we are Switched around transformed.

For a magical bit of time, we are both IN this love- and all because of the Romance of a Child.

Mama, Why You're Sitting???? pt 2

THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES: EXPERIENCING GOD'S LOVE FOR ME THROUGH MY OWN EXPERIENCE OF LOVING MY CHILDREN...

I.

“Blessed be the name of the LORD from this time forth

and forever. From the rising of the sun to its setting, the name

of the LORD is to be praised…”-Psalm 113:2-3

So, last week (or the week before), we said we'd look at HOW this verse might lead us into the practical nature of balance in our lives, hearts and homes. I'd like to suggest that the phrase: From the rising of the sun to its setting, The name of the Lord is to be praised" encapsulates God's highest priorities for us, which we must obviously claim for ourselves as we make our 'lists'.

After all, if I'm going to prioritize my 4-page list, I need to know that MY priorities are in fact in sinc with His. OK, So now WHY? and HOW does this help me find my balance???? That huge, 4 page "to do" list has not been wiped away. It's still there, and multiplying...but as a backdrop to a few things standing OUT. My TRUE goals, what matters MOST is beginning to crystalize.

My TRUE goals each day, I know. They are my 'global' goals. But it must be a daily list, too. Moved from the realm of 'global importance' down into the realm of 24 hour importance.

HOW to reach them- make them my DAILY goals, without getting caught up in all the other 'important' stuff, is the obstacle. But as my heart is filled by the Lord's Words, my goals, I know...and you do, too.

1. God : To SEE Jesus, Here and Now, to KNOW Him intimately, to remain connected to my vine...this places GOD in first position on my list. And if I have any hope of gaining and maintaining a sence of peace in my role as a child of god, a wife, a mother, a friend, a member of the body...I HAVE to accept a paramount recognition that without doing this- PRACTICALLY doing this, SEEING Jesus, I am spinning my wheels. Period.

Deuteronomy 6:5" You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might."

2. My Family: These are the people God Himself has given into my life, that I may be to them a steward of love, support,faith and growth (In Christ and all other ways). This is my HUSBAND, MY CHILDREN...... I love the following guiding steps...

Proverbs 22:6 "Train up a child in the way he should go,Even when he is old he will not depart from it."

Titus 2:5... "Be sensible, pure, workers at home, kind, being subject to their own husbands, so that the word of God will not be dishonored."

Psalm 111:10 "The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom;A good understanding have all those who do His commandments;His praise endures forever. "

YES! They do need wisdom fed to them! Of course they do! But I cannot rely on making them memorize scripture and not FIND the Lord Jesus ALIVE STILL TODAY in their lives and mine while doing so. TIME with them will lead me into sharing my heart. Sharing my heart will lead me into shining a light on Jesus. THIS is a huge part of raising up my childrenin the way that is right, and in doing it such that they will not turn from it later, as well as beginning their lives, grounding them in wisdom. It's about my connection to them, TIME spent talking, praying....(The other day I wanted to pray for Aaron's open house and called to the boys to gather the older ones to pray with me.....but they were off running around and clearly had no intention of stopping to listen to my actual WORDS before yelling, "ok Mom!!!" and carrying on about their play. So, I turned to Desi, sitting blissfully with some snacks at the kitchen table and I asked my 2 year old if he wanted to pray with me. He said "Yeah!" And so, where two or more are gathered.....right? He repeated my every word...and Aaron had double the open house 'traffic' that day!) Why can't I pray with my 2 year old about MORE than finding his toy??? Or healing his owie????? Or just because it's mealtime???? Why can't I show him that Jesus is real to Mommy and Daddy in our every dailiness? It's unfortunate, but a revelation to me non-the-less.

3. Friends and loved ones / the Body of Christ :

Romans 12:10Be devoted to one another in brotherly love; give preference to one another in honor."

Mark 9:35"Sitting down, He called the twelve and said to them, " If anyone wants to be first, he shall be last of all and servant of all."

4. My individual calling and purpose as He leads me:

1 Corinthians 12:18 "But now God has placed the members, each one of them, in the body, just as He desired."

Ephesians 2:10 "For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them."

One thing to keep in mind for this one in particular, as I think we mentioned last week, is that all the things on our 'list' DO hold value, and ARE important and worthy of our time and energy- (usually "), but not ALL of them are paramount RIGHT NOW.

So, my goal here is to pare down to that which I KNOW the Spirit is calling me right NOW. It doesn’t mean erasing everything off my ‘to do list’ forever, but for a time, my body and mind and strength need to be both directed toward AND restful within the boundaries of what He Himself has ordained for me. My body can only do so much. My mind can only contain so much. My heart can only hold so many ‘goals’ before I am distracted from the purity of loving my Jesus, and the fruit of that love: the perfect refining element which leads me immediately to ‘what matters most’: My God, My family... My children.... I have them for only 18years if I’m lucky. The dishes will still be there in 18 years, and likely look the same. The laundry will still need washing, the chores still need done. But my babies will be grown, hopefully. And the atmosphere for learning to Love their Lord and savior, will in large part, be beyond any of my control or even daily influence.

NOW is the time for my praise to the LORD in their hearing, in their home, in their capacity to comprehend what loving Jesus means to ME. Am I telling them how I love Him, personally? What He's done/is doing in my life? Shared scripture that will inevitably back it up? Let Him be unveiled before them IN MY OWN LIFE????

From the rising of the sun to it’s setting, am I showing them to praise the name of the Lord? Am I praying with them in the morning? Providing an atmosphere of worship from the get go? After all, the other things will still be here in 18 years if they indeed are meant for my ‘doing’. Ephesians 2:10 reminds me that good works are prepared ahead for me to walk into…..and not only today, but my whole life long. If they are truly of the lord, they will not die within me because I didn't scratch them off the list today, but they will continue to call me closer in small increments until the time is right, and they will not be forgotten, after all….

He has made his works to be remembered.... Remember?

And finally, 5. Taking Care of Myself.....the Me God created with love and affection and great intentionality. Stewarding my body and my mind, loving my neighbor as mySELF.....we all know these ones, but it's an easy one to let go, yes? Feels selfish? Don't forget that God made YOU in secret, knit you skillfully in the womb......Ps 119. You are His workmanship.....and responsible too, for stewarding that creation back unto His glory...

So in the midst of my clutter, most things tend to fall away as I read my "To Do" list and align its components into my new LIST of 5 GOALS. And breathe.

I remember that THIS time, THIS here and now- the one during which I too often recklessly fix my eyes on the end of the day instead of grasping the potential framed within it, THIS moment is not just mine. It is my children’s, my husband’s, my beloved friends’….and HERE is UNQUESTIONABLY where the Lord has rooted me. It is an inarguable fact. Here I am. And so, here I am meant to be.

I can enhance it, yes, with hobbies, passions, good pursuits. But I cannot allow them to take priority on my “list”. SITTING down with my God, my husband and children should be paramount, and when a 3 year old, with astonishment asks me why I am sitting, the Lord, I believe has chosen a tender mouthed, baby voiced messenger to use in His attempt to get my attention. It’s ok. To stop. To sit down. To breathe. To nap (if you get the chance!), To do NOTHING, as long as you are doing NOTHING with the right people. With Jesus, do nothing. Soak in him. With my family. Do NOTHING. Absorb and give in insides to them. With loved ones… Serving the body in MY capacity of giftings.....stewarding well the body and health (physical and mental) of the life God has given to me.....these 5 items, in their most relevent and present tense forms should answer my daily question, "What would you have me focus on today? And what can slip to the bottom of the list?" And if my mind is stayed here, upon asking this of Him, I do believe I'll find the REST of mind to let the rest sift to the bottom.......Do you?

III.

There will be different phases of life and in each one, the Lord will bring life back into old goals that were shelved (perhaps right now) and reveal their 'time' has come. Our husbands and children, even our own passions and pursuits will require our time and attentions, and God will equip us to those tasks in the new forms they've taken. No doubt, our babies will need us in different ways as they grow, but need us still. Our husbands the same, as they endeavor to continue in their own pathways. Even our own passions, if they are truly of His creation in us, will blossom naturally when the time is right. Being WILLING to set them aside, if only in part for now- for sake of what matters most HERE and NOW is the challenge.

That said: May I close up where we left off? With my 3 year old asking me WHY I sat down?

By now I've wrestled through yet another 2 family movie nights, but more successfully. Gratefully, I can say it was not with the exact degree of difficulty IN disciplining myself it SIT DOWN. Aaron did have to cast the knowing glance my direction: Hon, what aaaarrrrreeee you dooooooing? Abandoning me over here?? You could dooooo stuff in the kitchen for another hhhhooooouuuurrrr... And, it's true. I could. Wipe counters, pack lunches, gather library books to tuck into backpacks...oh, find sweatshirts...did I wash those??? Wait, I'm leaving the kitchen now and didn't even turn the dishwasher to ON... But I did do better.

I've absolutely NOT perfected this, but I'm calling myself a success right now in light of the remembrance of myself 2 weeks ago. I was in a wad. Everything I could think about was related to how cluttered the house was, all the things I needed to sort and get rid of, how if we owned HALF the stuff we did, I wouldn't have to clean HALF as much....but who was I kidding? I'd have busied myself somehow.....This overwhelmed state, this busy-ness, it's a mindset.

NOT an actual exterior state of chaos, but an interior one.

So let's not get down on ourselves. This is a life-long challenge. Let's encourage one another to chalk up every single success in this area instead of lumping them together into a mindset of how poorly we may or may not be doing at balancing all the balls we've got in the air. Let's accept God's grace, After all, each day has enough troubles of its own, right?

Now, is this to say that I am sinful for trying to do all that is on my plate? I am sinful for aiming high and falling short? I am sinful for even a magnificent 4 page list of good intentions???? HOW is it sinful of me to try hard and harder each day to accomplish what I feel I've been handed???

Let me clarify. I don't believe we are sinful for our good intentions. I believe we MISS THE MARK by getting swallowed by those good intentions at the cost of 'What Matters Most'. GOD'S PRIORITY LIST. For our lives. For our days... Is He angry? Is He disappointed? I don't think so.....He Himself formed us in the womb....He is mindful of our frame, He knows that we are but dust.... Do these testaments to His compassion and understanding assure you that His is not angry or disappointed? Rather, that He is compassionate when we get ourselves overwhelmed and WANTS better for us. MORE for us, in the simplicity of HIS priorities.

Consider this: He sees us getting ourselves buried and He even offers us a way OUT once we've backed ourselves into a corner!!!

"For thus the Lord GOD, the Holy One of Israel, has said,'In repentance and rest you will be saved,In quietness and trust is your strength.' Isaiah 30:15

So- Am I to repent for all my good intentions? Things which, after all, seem Godly or at least important for the most part? And to REST? HOW am I supposed to do that? Do I no longer have to stay up on my chores? My house work? No, I must fit this in too. I am not off the hook completely by my ‘rest’ verse. But here's a thought:

WHAT IF I could REST in my MIND as I went about my tasks and played out my cherished, though exhausting, roles of the day. Everyday. What if I could do that? Is that possible? If so, would it not come naturally to pare down my list to the highest of callings set upon it? Would it not be obvious to me, without all the mind clutter, to worship my God first? To serve my husband and children second? To reach out and serve my loved ones, friends, the body? To care for myself as God intended? Would this not REQUIRE being written down, but blossom from a heart full of peace and a mind somehow- set at rest?

May I suggest we MEMORIZE Isaiah 26:3

"For You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is stayed fast upon you."

If I can keep my mind stayed upon Him, He says I’ll find perfect peace. It’s one of the verses I struggle to believe, but I never will until I try it out yes? I tried it out this week.....

Overwhelmed at one among many points….I sat in my closet praying, didn’t hear Gaby follow me and come in and sit in front of me. Finally he began stroking my leg and when I looked up, deep concern braced his furrowed little brown. “Why you sad, mama?” “I was talk to Jesus, honey. Sometimes, when I feel a little sad or have too much to do and don’t feel happy in my heart, I try to talk to Jesus so He can help me.”

“Oh,” he said thoughtfully. “But I didn’t hear you. Your mouf is not moving……?”
“Oh, well,” I said, “ I was talking to him in my heart, and not using my voice.”
It was good enough for him. He put both hands to the sides of my cheeks, puckered up and kissed me square on the lips. “You not sad anymore?”

“No baby, I’m not sad anymore,” I said. And to tell you the truth, I wasn’t. I left my closet peaceful, back into the SAME household full of the same needs….but I was at ease somehow- AND the BONUS??? I actually unveiled the truth of God’s Word and Spirit to my child as a natural result of it! I didn’t have to write it, OR TRY to cross it off my list!

To close: I just LOVE these quotes......maybe you'll find them redeeming too as you continue to cling to The Word in the quest for practical balance in your Mommy-ing.

“Three Rules of Work: Out of clutter find simplicity; From discord find harmony; In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity.” Albert Einstein

“"Think simple" as my old master used to say - meaning reduce the whole of its parts into the simplest terms, getting back to first principles.” Frank Lloyd Wright

"The aspects of things that are most important for us are hidden because of their simplicity and familiarity." -Ludwig Wittgenstein