<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230</id><updated>2012-01-27T14:19:43.170-08:00</updated><category term='summer sugar'/><title type='text'>The FATHER'S Heart Through a Mother's Eyes</title><subtitle type='html'>Devotions from my heart for Mommies, Soon-to-be-Mommies, Grand-Mommies......etc.</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>20</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-3045858165808893513</id><published>2011-09-03T09:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2011-09-08T11:17:26.605-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Our Two Newest ...</title><content type='html'>&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;It's been too long. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;I haven't set word to paper for months and sometimes I fear I am by far the worse for it! &amp;nbsp;But then, I am 1/3 again the Mom I was then, with two little girls having joined our family since my last post. &amp;nbsp;I've been neglectful of this sacred place. &amp;nbsp;I've been reckless with my heart in having done so. &amp;nbsp;Writing is breath. &amp;nbsp;I determine to begin again. &amp;nbsp;But before I do, let me make introductions...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IgATbHDcqY8/TmHO1vGwckI/AAAAAAAAAC8/_GelShIWSa8/s1600/IMG_2308.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="320" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IgATbHDcqY8/TmHO1vGwckI/AAAAAAAAAC8/_GelShIWSa8/s320/IMG_2308.JPG" width="240" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TOP2CEm-OU4/TmHPCVkmdWI/AAAAAAAAADA/sPySioWIhzU/s1600/IMG_2283.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"&gt;&lt;img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-TOP2CEm-OU4/TmHPCVkmdWI/AAAAAAAAADA/sPySioWIhzU/s320/IMG_2283.JPG" width="320" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;Here is WHY I've been so neglectful... &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; Scarlette Rachele Peck, born about a week before my last post is now 17 months old. &amp;nbsp;Ella Vivienne Peck, joining us in May of 2011 is now just over 3 months. &amp;nbsp;They are the pink frill around the edges of our scrappy crew, and SO worth the wait! &amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp; &amp;nbsp;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. &amp;nbsp;Not stillness, but peace. &amp;nbsp;We feel complete. &amp;nbsp;Made whole. &amp;nbsp;For now... &amp;nbsp;And with that peace, my heart has been renewed in both resolve and resources for this blog. &amp;nbsp;My girls have taught me much. &amp;nbsp;I never cease to be astonished at God's amazing ability to show Himself and His robust LOVE through the most fragile of beings. &amp;nbsp;I find clarity in this chaos- and hope to begin the translation again. &amp;nbsp;Please join. &amp;nbsp;I have never seen Him more clearly than through the filter of motherhood. &amp;nbsp;Perhaps you can relate?&amp;nbsp;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-3045858165808893513?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/3045858165808893513/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/05/scarlette-is-6-weeks-old-today.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/3045858165808893513'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/3045858165808893513'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/05/scarlette-is-6-weeks-old-today.html' title='Our Two Newest ...'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-IgATbHDcqY8/TmHO1vGwckI/AAAAAAAAAC8/_GelShIWSa8/s72-c/IMG_2308.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-7363019794725418982</id><published>2010-04-01T11:17:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-17T23:31:03.024-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Trouble with Band-aids Pt. 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES: EXPERIENCING GOD'S LOVE FOR ME THROUGH MY OWN EXPERIENCE OF LOVE FOR MY CHILDREN....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, I love being known, no matter how I run from it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.......&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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….&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;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?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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???????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;The LOVE of being known.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His response of love proved it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And guess what? You are, too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-7363019794725418982?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/7363019794725418982/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/04/trouble-with-band-aids-pt-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/7363019794725418982'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/7363019794725418982'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/04/trouble-with-band-aids-pt-2.html' title='The Trouble with Band-aids Pt. 2'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-3549445337395364535</id><published>2010-04-01T11:12:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-04-01T11:15:33.339-07:00</updated><title type='text'>The Trouble with Band-aids</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES: EXPERIENCING GOD'S LOVE FOR ME THROUGH MY OWN EXPERIENCE OF LOVE FOR MY CHILDREN....&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s a love-hate thing with band-aids&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The funny thing - they tend to hurt on both sides of the process…it can be rather confusing, don’t you think? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;  You know the drill....  Your child wants one intensely- or absolutely does &lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt;, 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. &lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For all of us.  Even God, I think. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“So He became their Savior.&lt;br /&gt;In all their affliction, He was afflicted.&lt;br /&gt;And the angel of His presence saved them;&lt;br /&gt;In His love in and in His mercy He redeemed them;&lt;br /&gt;And He lifted them and carried them-”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know I can’t.  Example: &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt; 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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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? &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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? &lt;br /&gt;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.    &lt;em&gt;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.&lt;/em&gt;  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because they hurt.  And I’m not looking for anything else to add to my hurt. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My major shortcoming?  Fear of the band-aid....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pt 2 on the way!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-3549445337395364535?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/3549445337395364535/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/04/trouble-with-band-aids.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/3549445337395364535'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/3549445337395364535'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/04/trouble-with-band-aids.html' title='The Trouble with Band-aids'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-2075842924974323915</id><published>2010-03-16T01:50:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2010-03-19T22:23:29.738-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Be Your Father's Baby-</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES: EXPERIENCING GOD'S LOVE FOR ME THROUGH MY OWN EXPERIENCE OF LOVE FOR MY CHILDREN.....&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(a devotion begun when Gabriel was only a baby....finished now, when he's still my baby...)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;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…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Lie there in my arms and trust that I won’t drop you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The King.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a daughter is a child. And a child is somebody’s baby. And a baby trusts her Father’s arms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Happy Monday, Happy new week, all you lovely Princesses.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-2075842924974323915?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/2075842924974323915/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/03/be-your-fathers-baby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/2075842924974323915'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/2075842924974323915'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/03/be-your-fathers-baby.html' title='Be Your Father&apos;s Baby-'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-4733732534533639973</id><published>2010-03-07T08:21:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-03-09T09:50:33.710-08:00</updated><title type='text'>An Offering of Love</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES: EXPERIENCING GOD'S LOVE FOR ME THROUGH MY OWN EXPERIENCE OF LOVE FOR MY CHILDREN...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;(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: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="mailto:bmybutterfly8@charter.net"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;bmybutterfly8@charter.net&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt; and I will happily add them to the 'group list')&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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 &lt;em&gt;this&lt;/em&gt; direction.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ladies, he has cleared year 4 and by all evidences, we are heading &lt;em&gt;UP!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me tell you what I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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 &lt;em&gt;a fully-engaged, eye-to-eye, and often hands slapped to both sides of my cheeks to be sure my eyes don't wander ...&lt;strong&gt;offering&lt;/strong&gt;.&lt;/em&gt; That genuinely seems the right word: &lt;strong&gt;An offering of love.&lt;/strong&gt; Like a prayer, in fact. I'll elaborate later...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've been a Mom long enough now to know that it &lt;em&gt;could&lt;/em&gt; be any number of factors:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. It could simply be his age. Maybe turning 4 has impacted him to a greater degree than it did my other boys.&lt;br /&gt;2. It could be his growing awareness of the boy/girl thing, venturing into those waters where I am the ultimate 'trial' ground.&lt;br /&gt;3.It may be that he’s sensing that the new baby is coming&lt;em&gt; soon&lt;/em&gt;, 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 &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;from&lt;/em&gt; me&lt;/strong&gt; in their rivaly against this unseen competition- It has NOT typically been a stance of &lt;strong&gt;GIVING TO&lt;/strong&gt; me.)&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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 &lt;em&gt;word AND deed&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;II. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;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...&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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- &lt;strong&gt;free&lt;/strong&gt;. 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....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is a blessing to me. A surprise blessing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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 &lt;strong&gt;reflection of me.&lt;/strong&gt; I am unable, it seems to NOT see my own self as a child before the Lord:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pushing it to the limit.&lt;br /&gt;Not asking for what I want, just throwing a fit after not getting it. Or a mean pity party.&lt;br /&gt;Testing the limitations of when I'll get a warning vs. when I'll actually get spanked.&lt;br /&gt;Resisting when asked...&lt;br /&gt;Demanding instead of using my 'manners'...&lt;br /&gt;Stubbornly taking the time-out before saying 'I'm sorry'&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Hebrews 5:12-14&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"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."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;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!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;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.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;III.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;That&lt;/em&gt; is called maturity. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;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. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;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)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;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". &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;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. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;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. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;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)&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And dare I say it, we pray to reciprocate. To &lt;strong&gt;GIVE TO&lt;/strong&gt; Him. &lt;em&gt;An offering of love&lt;/em&gt;. (Is this sounding familiar?)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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……..&lt;em&gt;and to HIM&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is challenging me this week…&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;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?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;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 &lt;em&gt;expression&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;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? &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;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. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;And how goooooooooood does THAT feel?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-4733732534533639973?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/4733732534533639973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/03/offering-of-love.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/4733732534533639973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/4733732534533639973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/03/offering-of-love.html' title='An Offering of Love'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-1498674746102403701</id><published>2010-02-28T08:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-28T15:06:54.426-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE ROMANCE OF A CHILD...</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="center"&gt;THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES- EXPERIENCING GOD'S LOVE FOR ME THROUGH MY OWN HEART OF LOVE FOR MY CHILDREN...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;The Romance of a Child&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s simple really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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’????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For a magical bit of time, we are both IN this love- and all because of the Romance of a Child.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-1498674746102403701?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/1498674746102403701/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/02/romance-of-child.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/1498674746102403701'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/1498674746102403701'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/02/romance-of-child.html' title='THE ROMANCE OF A CHILD...'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-4088060942348401866</id><published>2010-02-16T15:17:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-27T21:59:48.824-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Mama, Why You're Sitting????  pt 2</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES: EXPERIENCING GOD'S LOVE FOR ME THROUGH MY OWN EXPERIENCE OF LOVING MY CHILDREN...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“Blessed be the name of the LORD from this time forth &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;and forever. From the rising of the sun to its setting, the name &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;of the LORD is to be praised…”-Psalm 113:2-3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;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.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;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.   &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;1. God : &lt;strong&gt;To SEE Jesus&lt;/strong&gt;, 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. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Deuteronomy+6:5&amp;amp;version=NASB"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Deuteronomy 6:5&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;" You shall love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;2. &lt;strong&gt;My Family:&lt;/strong&gt;  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... &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;         &lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Proverbs+22:6&amp;amp;version=NASB"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Proverbs 22:6&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  "Train up a child in the way he should go,Even when he is old he will not depart from it."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Titus+2:5&amp;amp;version=NASB"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Titus 2:5&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;... "Be sensible, pure, workers at home, kind, being subject to their own husbands, so that the word of God will not be dishonored."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Psalm+111:10&amp;amp;version=NASB"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Psalm 111:10&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  "The fear of the LORD is the beginning of wisdom;A good understanding have all those who do His commandments;His praise endures forever.&lt;/strong&gt; "  &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;3. &lt;strong&gt;Friends and loved ones / the Body of Christ&lt;/strong&gt; :&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans+12:10&amp;amp;version=NASB"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Romans 12:10&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Be devoted to one another in brotherly love; give preference to one another in honor."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Mark+9:35&amp;amp;version=NASB"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Mark 9:35&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"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." &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;4. &lt;strong&gt;My individual calling and purpose as He leads me:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=1"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;1 Corinthians 12:18&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;  "But now God has placed the members, each one of them, in the body, just as He desired."&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt; &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a href="http://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Ephesians+2:10&amp;amp;version=NASB"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Ephesians 2:10&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;  "&lt;strong&gt;For we are His workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand so that we would walk in them." &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;        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. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;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????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;From the rising of the sun to it’s setting&lt;/em&gt;, 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 &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;good works are prepared ahead for me to walk into&lt;/strong&gt;…..&lt;/em&gt;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….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;He has made his works to be remembered.... &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;Remember? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;And finally, &lt;strong&gt;5. Taking Care of Myself.....&lt;/strong&gt;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...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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, &lt;em&gt;"What would you have me focus on today?  And what can slip to the bottom of the list?"&lt;/em&gt;   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?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;em&gt;III.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;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. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;That said: May I close up where we left off? With my 3 year old asking me WHY I sat down?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;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. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;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 &lt;em&gt;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&lt;/em&gt;....but who was I kidding? I'd have busied myself somehow.....This overwhelmed state, this busy-ness, it's a mindset.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;NOT an actual exterior state of chaos, but an interior one. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;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, &lt;em&gt;each day has enough troubles of its own&lt;/em&gt;, right? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;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???&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;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. &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;Consider this: He sees us getting ourselves buried and He even offers us a way OUT once we've backed ourselves into a corner!!!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"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&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;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:&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;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? &lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;May I suggest we MEMORIZE Isaiah 26:3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"For You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is stayed fast upon you."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;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.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Oh,” he said thoughtfully. “But I didn’t hear you. Your mouf is not moving……?”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh, well,” I said, “ I was talking to him in my heart, and not using my voice.”&lt;br /&gt;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?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“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!&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;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.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a class="sqq" href="http://thinkexist.com/quotation/three_rules_of_work-out_of_clutter_find/145976.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Three Rules of Work: Out of clutter find simplicity; From discord find harmony; In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;” Albert Einstein&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a class="sqq" href="http://thinkexist.com/quotation/-think_simple-as_my_old_master_used_to_say/206297.html"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;"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.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;” Frank Lloyd Wright&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;The aspects of things that are most important for us are hidden because of their simplicity and familiarity." -Ludwig Wittgenstein &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-4088060942348401866?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/4088060942348401866/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/02/mama-why-youre-sitting-pt-2.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/4088060942348401866'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/4088060942348401866'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/02/mama-why-youre-sitting-pt-2.html' title='Mama, Why You&apos;re Sitting????  pt 2'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-4064527547786097538</id><published>2010-02-09T23:55:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-02-14T23:05:42.824-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Why You're Sitting??????  Pt. 1</title><content type='html'>“Blessed be the name of the LORD&lt;br /&gt;From this time forth and forever.&lt;br /&gt;From the rising of the sun to its setting&lt;br /&gt;The name of the LORD is to be praised…”&lt;br /&gt;-Psalm 113:2-3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;“Mama, why you’re sitting? Why you’re doing dat?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Saturday, we in the Peck household initiated our first ‘Family Movie Night’ and I’ll be quite honest with you. I have been frustrated ever since. A whole week- going on 8 days now I’ve been- some word I can’t quite make fit- something close to upset- agitated, ill at ease in my own skin, frustrated. It was a good thing, of course, this new tradition. And about as fun as it can be for two adults attempting to watch a 2 yr old, a 3 yr old, a 5 and a 7 yr old AND a movie called“Chimps In Space.” Get the picture? But it was WITH our kids and hearts full of devotion to our new investment in our family, so Aaron and I passed knowing glances at each other as well as a few at the clock…and dove in. The boys had earned ‘Shopping Day’ (a tradition carried down from my own upbringing) and had, to that end, a small new dollar-toy ( I will never find freedom from HotWheels…) and a fist full of treats for the movie and grins on their faces. They had us. Our full engagement. It was good. They were happy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I was frustrated and have been ever since. And all because I sat down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’ve been collecting signs since then and it’s thrown a real wrench into my little motherhood-machine. See, I was naïve enough to think I was coming OUT of last week’s message regarding my ‘challenging child’ equipped with a new understanding of, and therefore, prepared with a higher vision of him, myself and the basic fluidity of better-functioning in our household. Here’s my lesson for you ladies: DO NOT EVER, UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES, COME AWAY FROM ONE OF THESE DEVOTIONS WITH THE IDEA THAT YOU HAVE LEARNED SOMETHING- OR THAT LIFE IS ABOUT TO GET EASIER ON ACCOUNT OF IT.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;EVER.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;=)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m kidding, of course. But it does appear that ‘Shopping Day’ every Saturday is not the only thing I’ve carried down with from my own childhood. Added bonus? An undeterred and ferocious case of self-sufficiency. A voice in my head, “Do something all the time. Moving endlessly toward some aim, some goal- usually about 8 at once. Do not stop. Do not ask for help. Just keep swimming, just keep swimming….”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ask my mother. Ask my sister. In the middle of parenting, this CAN at times make me insanely effective, but most of the time it just renders me-well, insane. And leave it to you know who to bring it up and leave it on my lap for me to wrestle with the rest of the week. And yet, resonating alongside it, like Jacob wrestling with the angel of the LORD, through my heart persisted a verse from years ago…….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“In repentance and rest you shall be saved,&lt;br /&gt;In quietness and trust is your strength.”&lt;br /&gt;-Isaiah 30:15&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Why?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had sat down on the couch (with great discipline, I might add, since the dishes were yet to be cleaned, the counters left un-wiped, the floor unswept after dinner, etc. etc.), but I’d not sat there beyond a very realistic 2 minutes before GABY, of course it was GABY, approached me with a perplexed expression and asked with deep authenticity, “Mama, why you’re sitting?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I laughed initially and asked, “What? What do you mean, Baby?”&lt;br /&gt;“Why you’re sitting?” he repeated. Did I stutter? “Why you’re doing dat?” It had caught the attention of a 3 year old – a 3 year old WITH a toy, WITH a bowl of candy AND WITH a movie playing loudly in the background, that something in our household was ‘off’. I had sat down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It wasn’t simply that I was among them as much as it was the fact that I was not among the 5 of them wiping at someone, picking up something from beneath someone, nagging someone, serving someone, undressing and dressing again someone, removing someone…. Had I been doing any of those things, likely I would have slipped incognito right under his radar. However, I was not doing any of those things. In fact I was doing nothing. For a possible 120 seconds…I was sitting. And his world stopped in confusion. He needed to know WHY I was doing “dat”. And to be even more candid, my first thought was along the lines of…not having a good enough reason to tell him! You’re right, Gaby. What am I doing? I’m doing nothing! I should be doing something…folding laundry if I’m going to just sit here ,laundry at the very least…I could even be giving one of the big boys a haircut. They do need haircuts….&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the problem is, I’m raising 4 boys and with determination that they grow up to cherish, respect and honor their wives, NOT see them as maids. Not store up reserves of experience that simply leaves them no other option than to see every job in the house and pertaining to the well-being of everyone in it as MOM’S job.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Now, please hear this before going on: I DO want them to honor the roles God has given women vs. men in regard to raising a family, but I want them to absorb this truth based MORE upon the emotional make-up and capacity of women vs. men, not simply their delegated roles. I want them to honor God’s intended and well design roles for men and women according to more than who earns the bread and who slices it, but by observing the compassion and all-encompassing love that tends to thrive in the heart of a woman AS WELL AS the strengths, disciplines and work ethic that thrives in the heart of a man. HOW they tend to the hearts, NOT simply the chores they manage within the home.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That said, I’m not feeling supremely successful right now. And it’s only gotten worse since that question. Sign after sign has hit me this week- YOU ARE DOING TOO MUCH. YOUR PRIORITIES ARE GETTING LOST IN THE 4 PAGE ‘TO DO’ LIST… And it frustrates me, because I know it’s true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;AND YET….I don’t know what to cut out or how to discern well which are the most worthy on my list. My husband says I take on too much. I can’t stand it. EVERYTHING I attempt or want to do seems valid. EVERYTHING seems worthy so, how to decide? How to discern?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here’s a challenge for you. THIS ONE is just a quick peek of what I, MYSELF am attempting ( and which by the way, in my HEAD all of it seems to make sense, fit into the day AND be worthy of the time it would require…). What about YOU????&lt;br /&gt;Does this list look like yours?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I’m currently attempting to:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:78%;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Raise 4 kids, being 8-9 weeks from delivering our 5th * Write this devotion weekly (which I LOVE) * Finish my first novel (begun after GABRIEL’S birth!!!...almost 4 years ago!!!?????:( * Keep up on my boys’ yearly birthday Letters * Work on a children’s Christian ABC picture book * Find an illustrator for that and other children’s books in my hidden file cabinet!!! * Find the right curriculum and time frame for beginning home-schooling and convince my husband that I CAN handle it!!!!! * Join the Esther bible study at church * Attend a literature reading group once a month * Join the Cal Poly alum- fiction writer’s group- toward the goal of someday getting my MFA * Mentor a young woman from the church facing some similar younger-year struggles * Work out daily to stay strong after number 5! * Add a movie night for our family, a family Saturday morning event and a church, doughnut, beach date on Sundays after church * Get involved in the Make a Wish Foundation * Add in a date night with my husband in exchange for childcare with another couple once per week * Set up a nursery in a room we don’t have * Schedule in 3 solid writing times per week when Aaron watches the boys * Spend individual times each week with each of the boys alone * STOP napping AT ALL during the day when the babies nap * (Prepare (NESTING BIG TIME) for another baby- gathering up all the things I got rid of about a year ago since we were “done” having kids. “) * Plan and keep a morning date with one of my girlfriends each week * Attend 2 park dates each week to let the boys OUT and commune with other Mommies * Clear out massive clutter and re-organize the house in this vein: sort through books, shoes, boys’ clothing that’s now too small and won’t be handed down again =), videos/dvds, maternity clothes vs. my own clothes, empty cabinets we’ll be needing, ready a budget that squeezes in new formula, clothing and diapers in preparation for our new addition to the household! * Learn Ballet off of a dvd in my living room * Start learning sign language from a dvd series I’ve own for years now, again in my own living room * Call my Mom and each of my siblings at least once every 2 weeks-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And this is all beyond the peripheral- you know:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keep up the house, the laundry, vacuuming, dishes, bedding, bathrooms, cook nutritious meals for my family, keep up on individual kids’ homework every night, remember whose sharing day, whose dress-this-color day, whose minimum day it is the next day...drop-offs at 8:30 and then 9 and then 11:30am, pick ups beginning from 12 ranging all the way to 2:45, naps supposed to be from 2 pm on… ????? Now, add on keeping up my relationship with my husband, maintaining friendships with a very few precious 1 on 1 coffee-talk sessions, catch back up with old friends I left 9 years ago, have a few parks dates/play dates each week for the kids AND my own mental health… Oh, and try not to worry about money.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Need I go on? I could. I’ll bet you could too. Have you written out YOUR mental ‘to do’ list lately? The one that drives you? And drives you crazy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If so, does it sound as insane to you as mine does when I WRITE it out? This crazy, but real ‘To Do’ list of mine? I’m tired……that’s true, but … in my head, and on paper… it seems to all fit. Somehow. And yet the frustration persists…. YOU ARE DOING TOO MUCH. YOUR PRIORITIES ARE GETTING LOST IN THE 4 PAGE ‘TO DO’ LIST…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why can’t I seem to keep my own house in order, but insist on taking on more? Why do I even want to? Is it because I feel myself slipping into a vortex of a one dimensional existence? Am I clawing to still feed the aspiring writer in me? The college girl who had all the time in the world for bible studies? For small groups meeting at coffee shops? For one on one girlfriend time? But isn’t it all a part of who I still am? Aren’t they all valid, worthy pursuits? Aren’t they all pieces of the ME that God created?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes, I think. Just perhaps not all at the same time……right now. Right NOW, I see the signs. YOU ARE DOING TOO MUCH. YOUR PRIORITIES ARE GETTING LOST IN THE 4 PAGE ‘TO DO’ LIST…My 3 year old asked why I was sitting down! It caught his attention in the middle of movie night, with toys, candy, all his brothers clamoring around the room- it caught his attention that I simply sat down. It was even a dark room! I’m over doing it. I’m not setting the example I’ve aimed at so long. I’m not failing, I’m just off course. Too much clutter. Too many ‘shoulds’ and not enough deep breaths. I need to simplify. My child, without his knowing it, is asking me to. Asking me to get my priorities straight. Asking me to clip away the branches obstructing our view of the Son…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just one more question:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOW do I get back to the point where my simply sitting WITH my family is not an eye opening event???? That can’t be right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Luckily, (actually nothing to do with luck…more like “the Lord is gracious and compassionate…) along with the signs I’ve encountered this week have also been reassuring scriptures urging me in the right direction. I have a feeling- just by talking to a few of you, knowing many others by heart and simply having mommy-hood in common with those of you whose faces I’ve yet to behold…we have this ‘sitting down’ problem in common. This overwhelmed-can’t even keep my own house in order-trying to do too much thing, in common. Perhaps the verses He brought my way will minister to you as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One, I’ve already shared with you, but coming to me alongside it is this:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“From the rising of the sun to its setting&lt;br /&gt;The name of the LORD is to be praised…” -Psalm 113:3&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, in light of these two scriptures, HOW do I discern amongst all my valid-clutter in my brain, pressuring me ? There is no option except to pare it to the very basics:&lt;br /&gt;IN the right order…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God&lt;br /&gt;Family&lt;br /&gt;Friends&lt;br /&gt;Individual Purpose as God brings it, in all its varying forms, my way. (Work, passions, etc.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But, where do my scriptures help me sort this out? SO obvious in this moment. It amazes me that it has taken me all this week to come to this clarity…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;“Blessed be the name of the LORD&lt;br /&gt;From this time forth and forever.&lt;br /&gt;From the rising of the sun to its setting&lt;br /&gt;The name of the LORD is to be praised…”&lt;br /&gt;-Psalm 113:2-3&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;I'll tell you this next week just HOW these tender words from the Lord can help us!  I need it!   You?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-4064527547786097538?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/4064527547786097538/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/02/why-youre-sitting-pt-1.html#comment-form' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/4064527547786097538'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/4064527547786097538'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/02/why-youre-sitting-pt-1.html' title='Why You&apos;re Sitting??????  Pt. 1'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-9207199322514774413</id><published>2010-01-26T22:05:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T21:36:48.603-08:00</updated><title type='text'>THE 'CHALLENGE' CHILD</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES: Experiencing God's Heart for ME Through My Own Experience of Love for my Children...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Lord, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I want to KNOW my children. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I want to know them individually, intimately, unconditionally.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I know this prayer has to be a reflection of Your own heart, as you long to KNOW each of us, your children- and I'm humbled, Father and overwhelmed even, that the strength of my desire to know my children could be this strong, and yet YOURS, to know me AND my children, even stronger. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I long for an understanding of this deep love that You have for me, and for that understanding to lead me into prayer, daily prayer, as intercession for my children. On their behalf.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;I desire to see them for their uniquenesses, for their gifts, for their individual purposes in this life YOU have given to them. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;And Lord, I desire deeply, to be able- because of this intimate knowledge of their fearful and wonderful make-up, to help them live OUT who YOU made them to be. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Help me, Father, to not desire them to be 'easy' for me, or more 'like' me. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;But transform ME as a mother and a child of YOURS to see them with YOUR eyes, and in so doing- to help them become all they are meant to be for YOUR kingdom. &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;In Jesus' Name, &lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Amen.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;MONDAY-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day, I found myself asking the Lord for an 'easier' day- in so many words. What I meant was: Please help my children to behave, to not be too demanding on me, to have passive spirits for just one day. In reality, I asked Him to change THEM to be more like me so that I could 'flow' with them more easily- so that the day could just be 'easy'. In honesty, my prayer had NOTHING to do with the LORD's will for that day. And NOTHING to do with my children's well-being. I was tired. That's it, flat out. I was just tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;By 9 am, Gaby sat on the time-out chair (which, if you know Gaby, is nothing new) and he was &lt;em&gt;not happy&lt;/em&gt; about it. So, in true Gaby-fashion, he lamented loudly and kicked the wall to show his disapproval of the situation. Desi, sugar-spun as usual was troubled by his brother's predicament and determined to 'give Gaby love?' Of course, I said, "Go give Gaby some love..." I was as shocked as he, with his big blue eyes filling up with puddles, to hear Gaby shove him away and shout, "No!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was refusing comfort! And not even from me! Desi had nothing to do with it, but love to give, and Gaby was in full-force, rejecting that love. I was beyond perplexed, and Desi, beyond troubled...so I gathered him up and went into my room for a moment so Gabriel might have a chance to realize his tantrum was NOT going to be tolerated, and to give Desi a bit of comfort for his wounded little heart. I told Aaron, as he prepared himself for work, about the situation, still baffled. "How could he reject love, any kind of comfort...from someone not even involved in his getting in trouble????? Desi was only trying to give him some comfort! Why on Earth would he reject that??????"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;His answer led me straight into a mindset, which like a fallen tree, I've stumbled over before, but never spent much time resting upon. My husband could easily have compassion for Gaby in the situation- made from much the same disposition. Easily angered. Needing space once angry or hurt. Needing time before regrouping and being able to put the guard down and recieve love from ANY source. I don't get this AT ALL. When I'm hurt or sad or angry or upset, &lt;em&gt;all &lt;/em&gt;I want is love. From anyone! But my girlfriend confirmed for me her own ownership of this need - in many, not just Gabriel. I am sooo opposite! &lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;(I even prayed for the doorbell to ring in the middle of the night the other night when I was up alone feeling a bit down and all because I wanted a hug so badly. Anyone on the otherside with a broken down car or flat tire would have had a VERY warm welcome!)&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;TUESDAY-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;OK. So, we all know certain people are harder to love than others. It isn't hard for any of us to admit that we meet people, know people or are even related to people that are just more difficult to love than others. What's hard to admit, is when it happens to be one of our own children. So, you may or may not immediately know what I'm talking about. You may or may not immediately be willing to admit it, say it out loud, or even to yourself. OR, you may simply not have this predicament in your heart or home, but even so- stay with me. This will apply on some level. (Perhaps in the teenage years to come???? ") It is a perplexing issue, but is it a real one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have a child that is more difficult to love than others. I do NOT mean that he is in any way unloveable to me. I mean simply that he requires more effort, more work on my part on a daily basis to tangibly reach him with my love.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is my challenge. He is my 'chance to grow', my 'spirited child,' my 'strong willed' child...however you want to label it. He is my little Gabriel, 3 year old, dimple faced, darling Gabriel. And he is HARD for me to love some days. Now hear me again because this is where I could lose you. You could find yourself astonished that a mother could say such a thing about her own child, or that you, yourself, might even echo (silently, of course) the same sentiment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But HEAR ME:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I say that one of my children is "harder for me to love," I do NOT mean, difficult in my heart to conjure up loving feelings toward. In fact, I was so happy to recently find an email letter I'd written to a friend when Gabriel was only months old, which said verbatim,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;"Gaby sits bouncing in his bouncy seat behind me, coughing, choking, coo-ing, trying with all his capacity to engage me in some way, so I must go. He needs my attention. I can tell you truly, he is the love of my life, though surely I could say the same of all my other boys...but Gabriel came home from the hospital as such. I needed no time whatsoever to connect with him. It was like he had always been here, always been bonded with me this deeply. He is the first one I have ever felt this at ease and this quickly attached to. He was immediatly my dream come true and remains so to this day."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Reading that encouraged me. Plus, he is, after all, only 3- and I have found 3 to actually be more difficult a stage than 2... But some of you may still be dealing with a child you find 'difficult' into their teens or even adulthood. We just have them. And they have us. So, to those of you offended at the concept, let me make clear to you, so that your heart may be open to the remainder of the message:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What I mean is, in practical, tangible terms, the child I call my 'harder to love' child in this message in NOT hard for me to adore. He is simply more difficult for me to KNOW HOW to reach, to know HOW to apply parenting techniques with success and one who is harder to discipline effectively using the tactics I know and which have thus far worked well with my other children. Gabriel is for a large part simply immune to them. HE, therefore, calls me to a higher standard in my parenting. He requires more of my patience. He demands I become less of ME in order to find the whole of Him. And to tell you the truth, some days, it's exhausting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it's also admirable.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, Gabriel, my little &lt;em&gt;messenger of God&lt;/em&gt;, refuses to fall through the cracks, and in a family of soon-to-be 5 kids, that's not an easy thing to do. He demands that I recognize his uniqueness. His individuality. He demands that I work harder to SEE him in the blur of kids that run in and out of the kitchen, living room, bathroom even, when I'm doing basically- anything. He is fiercely independent. He will take a harsh discipline any day over being invisible to me. The sad part is, admittedly, some days I don't &lt;em&gt;'get it'&lt;/em&gt; soon enough to see what he's really asking for- and thus, resort to the harsher discipline, always to regret it later...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe now that this regret is the nudging of the Lord:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;Pay attention, Leanne. SEE your little boy. Listen- if you can, to what you SEE....he doesn't have the words to TELL you what he's needing, that for which he's baiting you....Watch closely. He is not everyone else. He is himself. He may need a different vantage point from you. He may need YOU to get on YOUR knees to find out WHO he is. Who I made him to be. It may NOT need disciplined OUT of him, but merely channelled in the right direction BY YOU.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;WEDNESDAY-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And so, I have found myself more grateful for Gaby lately. Grateful for his example that who he has been made to be is no doubt about it, going to catch my attention daily and draw me close to the Lord. Here's been the recent result of my revelation: I find that I am praying daily for EACH of my children INDIVIDUALLY, that I might be changed &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;in my vision&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; of them as fully as God created them, not the simplified, toned down version of them as I would, for simple sake of my own sanity and that ever alluring 'easy day', probably settle for.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It began by wondering, what if I did that daily? What if I forsook the temptation (which in my Bible is defined as: a test, a challenge) to ask for ease? What if instead, I learned to pray differently regarding my children and the day ahead, every day? What if I asked things like:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;1. Can you help me to see YOU and the innate attributes of YOURSELF you've hidden in each of them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;2. Can you help me to embrace YOU inside them, in all the characteristics that encompasses?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;3. Will you show me, from YOUR vantage point, WHO my child is?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;4. Can you please reveal to me his/her/their gifts?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;5. Will you show me, even in part, some of his/her purpose in this life, what you've made them to do by way of their passions, temperament, desires?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;6. Would you help me discern the things to embrace in them and the things to channel in Godly direction vs. the things I need to discipline out of them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;7. Please help me to see my child as YOU SEE him/her.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;8. How can I help him/her become more outwardly who you intended...NOT, how do I mute him/her down to be easier for me to deal with!?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You get the point. After all, these little ones, easy or difficult in their temperment, disposition, personalities....they have all, also, been made in His likeness, wrought skillfully in the womb. Fearfully and wonderfully made...I need to DELVE into that aspect of my child instead of looking for escape!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;THURSDAY-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's a high calling on some days, isn't it? But it's true. Take a look at where the Lord led me this week in my fascination on this concept: 1 Corinthians 12:14-26&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;14 For the body does not consist of one member but of many.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;15 If the foot should say, “Because I am not a hand, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;16 And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;17 If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;18 But as it is, God arranged the members in the body, each one of them, as he chose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;19 If all were a single member, where would the body be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;20 As it is, there are many parts, yet one body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;21 The eye cannot say to the hand, “I have no need of you,” nor again the head to the feet, “I have no need of you.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;22 On the contrary, the parts of the body that seem to be weaker are indispensable,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;23 and on those parts of the body that we think less honorable we bestow the greater honor, and our unpresentable parts are treated with greater modesty,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;24 which our more presentable parts do not require. But God has so composed the body, giving greater honor to the part that lacked it,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;25 that there may be no division in the body, but that the members may have the same care for one another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;26 If one member suffers, all suffer together; if one member is honored, all rejoice together.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Are we hearing this? Our children, no matter their DNA, their resemblance to ourselves or their fathers- ARE NOT US. They are their OWN little peices and parts of the BODY OF CHRIST. ALREADY. Is it even possible that WE are dependent as well, on who THEY are, to become outwardly, fully who WE are meant to be?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are not, (albeit as of yet immature and under-developed in brain, body and character), incomplete. You and I are NOT making them into who they 'will be'. They already ARE their Father's perfect masterpeice, needing only clipping and pruning.....not so unlike us after all, yes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;FRIDAY-&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, what is MY job here? Do I turn away from this message and say to myself, 'Well, I guess just duck and cover- get through it. After all, he is already who he IS. I'm not going to change him. He's meant for a purpose and was destined to it long before I was in the picture, so....I'll stop spinning my wheels...give up the fight! Just let him/her be! It's in God's hands, not mine!"&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Well- in part. But not really so much. It is still our calling to teach, lead, guide, admonish, enourage, discipline and be, in a word, the shears God uses to prune our children. Our high calling is still going to be exhausting, but perhaps less so...not for our prayers that our 'challenging little ones' might be muted down and made 'easier' for us to handle, but for the prayers that might equip us to see them AS GOD has created them and for the blessing of navigating their little hearts and minds more easily as we go about our tasks! And, of course, to absorb the beauty of these necessary and highly honored little 'body parts'!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've come to conclude this week that for all the extra effort Gaby causes me, all the extra exasperation and exhaustion I endure daily in my dealings with him, that he is, with no argument in sight- a child whose kiss absolutely blinds me to the rest of the whole world when he lays his hands upon my cheeks, and turns it into an existence based soley upon perfectly chizeled, puckered up, flower-petal lips..... This boy's tenderness is unparalleled when I set aside a one-on-one moment with him. It's a discovery of mine- a fairly new one, in fact.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've become more attuned to his strong and independent spirit as less of a hinderance to me and more of an attribute of his, by God's hand. And I can say honestly that as we watched Gabriel leave our little family group, nestled together to escape the wind down inside the concave of the largest of dunes we could find in our beach quest this past Saturday, only to climb one of his own too-tall (in my oppinion for such a little dude) dunes and perch himself atop it, claiming it by dumping a bucket of sand in semi-likeness to a castle atop-never even looking over at us, Aaron and I marvelled at the loveliness, this time, of his independence. His feirce determination to be the King of his own hill. I wondered as I adored him against the skyline......is this boy meant for the pastorate? Or perhaps founding a new church? Perhaps becoming a missionary in some deep and uncharted territory? It will certainly suit him, whatever it is. And I am determined to assist him in reaching that destiny, not become a stumbling block to him as he pursues God's calling in his life for the sake of &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;an easy day!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;SATURDAY-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, I ponder with regards to my 'harder to love' child. What does it look like? Success, I mean, in balancing the maintenance of his God-given composition with MY job in guiding and 'pruning' those attributes, which if gone unchecked, might still hinder its effectiveness? His temper. His independence which often yields to indignation? These God-given traits that he's not learned to control and USE FOR God's glory as of yet? I mean, Jesus showed the crossing of the line when it came to His temper in the temple, yes? But it was a controlled lead up. And Jesus too was an independant soul while on this Earth, even as a child! Enough so to scare his mother to death, staying behind at the temple without so much as a word, carrying on about His business to her great distress!!!! (I find comfort co-miserating with Mary, here ")&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;So, these qualities cannot be all bad, in and of themselves, only if not contained and trained up. After all, gone unchecked, we all know 'good' things that can cause great destruction. Plants, part of God's original design of creation- from which humanity extracts gnarly and devastating concoctions. Sex, meant to be a thing of loveliness and unity in His original artistry, but which CLEARLY has gotten twisted and degraded severely in its usage, and effects..... and many, many other things as well.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;But, is it success if have an 'easier day'- or even train him in such a way that I yield a series of 'easier days', but in so doing, discipline OUT of my child the very quality which God may have given to him "for such a time as....(Esther 4:14b)"...5 years from now? 10 years from now? The very quality which God imparted to him FOR great use as a tool in his own purpose, ministry, or whatever "good works....have been prepared ahead of time for him to walk into?" (ref .Eph 2:10).&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Is it success- if for my own sake, I trim away at the very quality/qualities (which need tempered and directed, yes) but which, nevertheless, will prove to make him far more potent in HIS OWN particular calling on this Earth on the Lord's behalf????&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;It would be tragic, ladies. My heart shrieks in terror at how many times I may have already crossed the line here....after all, it's a hard one to distinguish in a house where at any given time a multitude of voices are raised (and not all in praise, I assure you!), where poopy diapers have been the NORM and not the exception for seven straight years and where I even call my own little ones by the wrong names.....not just once, before I get it right- sometimes even resorting to "Whoever you are- can you please just get it for me!?!? You KNOW what I meant!!!" &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;If I can't even distinguish which kid I'm talking to, how on Earth am I going to clearly focus in on the line between RIGHT and WRONG in my trimming and pruning, even with good intentions? UNLESS I PRAY FOR IT! ON GABRIEL'S BEHALF. NOT MY OWN. HOW ELSE????? Truly, it would be tragic to all hearts involved for me to have an 'easier day' at that great cost. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;See, Gabriel, in many ways isn't LIKE me. And in the great arrogance of humanity, THAT mere fact, makes him harder for me to love. (Think active, not passive here. To ACTIVELY love). He requires more work of me to even &lt;em&gt;understand&lt;/em&gt; him and always has. But this does NOT equate to Gabriel being more unloveable to me. I just have to get on my knees more often. And the floor is hard. And I'm tired. And I don't want to.....and on and on I could go. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Even from the time he was a baby, his sensitivities required softer sounds, less lighting, NO coughing without fair warning, NO crowded rooms echoeing of people's booming voices.....His pronunciation was such that I was among the elite ( I think it was me, Avery and God up there) who could even comprehend what he was trying to say, and I only got it about 80% of the time. Avy pulled off an astonishing 85% or so... To add to it, Gaby was a frail baby, more sickly with his heart complications from birth, and in fact, even in utero he had us freaked out by mere ultrasounds.... So, he has ALWAYS required more energy and emotion at the very LEAST from me. WHY on any realm would I assume this will stop when he turns 4? You get my point. I, hopefully, do too. It won't stop. Not likely, at least. It's part of who he is. Has always been. Will always be. Along with a myriad of too-lovley-for-titles type qualities I don't even need to go into if you've so much as laid eyes on this little guy. &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Success is going to be in MY understanding and embracing MY job as it stands before me. Making him &lt;em&gt;MORE of who he already is&lt;/em&gt;- )for his design is perfect and complete already, just unexposed in entirety and untrained almost ENTIRELY!!!!). My job is not to make him &lt;em&gt;LESS&lt;/em&gt;, especially not LESS for my sake or ease of life. How very trivial that prayer sounds now! What a terrifying price to pay for a bit of repose!!!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Being smaller than the rest, being more challenging to figure out...requiring MORE OF me, makes him no less a part of the body of Christ! &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;2 Corinthians 12:18 is going straight to my MEMORY BANK!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;"FOR GOD PLACED THE MEMBERS, EACH ONE OF THEM, IN THE BODY, JUST AS HE DESIRED....."&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;He has been placed just as God desired; who am I to pray that away? I'll only end up in futility....and if I believe, ladies, (and you believe with your challenging child/children...) - if I truly believe this Word, that Gabriel has been placed perfectly in the body, JUST as God desired, then isn't the greatest message here that he may well be fulfilling a huge portion of his purpose here and now? Not waiting for my &lt;em&gt;skilled&lt;/em&gt; shearing and pruning for 5-10 years out, but HERE and NOW?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Perhaps.....in changing ME?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;ALL MY LOVE TO YOU, MOMMIES!!! Thank you for being 'out there'!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-9207199322514774413?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/9207199322514774413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/01/fathers-heart-through-mothers-eyes_26.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/9207199322514774413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/9207199322514774413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/01/fathers-heart-through-mothers-eyes_26.html' title='THE &apos;CHALLENGE&apos; CHILD'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-3053741209127362342</id><published>2010-01-25T00:58:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-25T01:06:58.372-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Until This Week's Post- Put YOUR Child's Name in Place of Mine!</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Mama Loves You More&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(written originally for Emerson when he was only a few months old...)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If you ever wonder, if you ever feel unsure,&lt;br /&gt;Remember, my Sweet Miracle, your Mama loves you more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the softness held in a friendly hand,&lt;br /&gt;More than all the memories of the very oldest man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the stars that fall down from the sky,&lt;br /&gt;More than all the love songs that always make us cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the birthday candle wishes we could make,&lt;br /&gt;More than all the promises we never mean to break.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the shells that wash up on the shore,&lt;br /&gt;(Emerson),my Darling, your Mama loves you more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the people, every color, shape and size,&lt;br /&gt;More than all the secrets hidden under sleepy eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the sparkles in the finest diamond ring,&lt;br /&gt;More than all the voices when the angels start to sing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the tear drops from a hundred broken hearts,&lt;br /&gt;More than all the waiting in a thousand stops and starts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the sands that dance along the ocean floor,&lt;br /&gt;(Avery), my Sweetheart, your Mama loves you more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the rain that washes cares away,&lt;br /&gt;More than all the flowers waiting for their sunny day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the treasures we lock away to keep,&lt;br /&gt;More than all the yawns when a dreamer falls asleep.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the shadows cast down from the mountain heights,&lt;br /&gt;More than all the lightening of a million stormy nights.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the mystery and wonder still in store,&lt;br /&gt;(Gabriel), My Precious, your Mama loves you more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the fairy tales ever to be told,&lt;br /&gt;More than all the wrinkles that remind us when we’re old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the whitecaps tossing on a restless sea,&lt;br /&gt;More than all the honey in the hopes of honeybees.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the silver found in ancient strands of hair,&lt;br /&gt;More than all the heart behind every childlike prayer.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the hopes that other Mamas hold out for,&lt;br /&gt;(Desi), My Angel, your Mama loves you more.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the fairies riding on each gust of wind,&lt;br /&gt;More than all the kisses blown to reach a distant friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all imagination lost along the way,&lt;br /&gt;More than all the magic found when little children play.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than all the jewels crowned upon a royal head,&lt;br /&gt;More than all “I Love You’s” that ever have been said.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;More than every time I’ve ever whispered it before,&lt;br /&gt;(Little Bean), My Baby, your Mama loves you more.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-3053741209127362342?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/3053741209127362342/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/01/until-this-weeks-post-put-your-childs.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/3053741209127362342'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/3053741209127362342'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/01/until-this-weeks-post-put-your-childs.html' title='Until This Week&apos;s Post- Put YOUR Child&apos;s Name in Place of Mine!'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-3314598082635876747</id><published>2010-01-18T23:39:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-18T23:42:05.112-08:00</updated><title type='text'>EXTRA BLESSING</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;Thought you all might use a chuckle at my expense.  &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight, when Emerson came up to kiss and hug me 'goodnight', he stopped and stared at me for a minute, then said, "Mama, you look like a big, fat butterfly!" and grinned at how many points he had undoubtedly just scored.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A big, fat butterfly.  There I am, ladies....your loving, blogging, big, fat butterfly friend. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;")&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-3314598082635876747?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/3314598082635876747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/01/extra-blessing.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/3314598082635876747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/3314598082635876747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/01/extra-blessing.html' title='EXTRA BLESSING'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-2387627256621636413</id><published>2010-01-17T23:36:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T21:31:32.390-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Invisibility Pt. 4- and Final (phew! :)</title><content type='html'>THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;MONDAY-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a thought in church today- a few of them really, that pertain to this blog and its actual intent… I found myself thinking about how Christ came to this earth to take on the dailiness of the lives we engage in every 24 hours. My pastor actually used that word, ‘engaged’ as he spoke of Jesus' coming here to dwell among us. I found myself wondering how to relate Jesus’ experience on this Earth to my own. Not in general- but as a &lt;strong&gt;mom&lt;/strong&gt;, since after all, this is written from the heart of a mom, for the hearts of other moms with the goal in mind of seeing our Father...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wondered, how does Jesus truly understand my challenges AS A MOM? On other fronts, it’s easier for me to see how He can feel my hurts, know my fears, wear my sorrows, delight in my joys…but how does He know what it’s like to raise children? Almost immediately, I laughed at myself remembering his disciples….how many times he had to say the EXACT same things I find myself saying daily…. “Peter, I’m not talking about him, I’m talking about &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;you&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;. Keep your eyes on &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;yourself.”&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; …. “Judas, did you tell a lie? Do you know the consequences that come from lying? It hurts people. And after all, this is your &lt;strong&gt;brother&lt;/strong&gt;, he’s the best friend you’ve got! Don’t you want to think again about the decision you’re about to make?”…. about John and James... “Who gets to be first? Who gets to sit on the right hand? Are you kidding me? Quit shoving each other!" &lt;em&gt;I’ll tell you who’s going to be first now…..your LITTLEST brother…maybe you should have thought of that before shoving him out of your way! &lt;/em&gt;Ok, got that down.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So He gets it. But what about the other stuff? If I’m going to SEE HIM daily, I need to know he’s worn these paths before me, so I can ask, “Where are you?” when I’m losing it. And I do lose it. I do. Self admittedly, I lose it. I lock myself in the bathroom from time to time and make a rule: Whoever bangs on the door, follows me and wiggles the door handle or so much as whines outside it ADDS ONE MINUTE to my alone time!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday, after a HUGE push on my own to get all of them ready for and TO the park before the rains hit, I climbed slides with my huge belly, fit through tunnels I had no right chancing to go down slides I had way to much momentum for…just to ‘play’ with them instead of sitting on the sidelines on the bench as an onlooker…I felt good about it, until time to load BACK UP. I literally walked around the side of the van after plugging all 4 kiddos IN, left the doors closed a moment longer than necessary to cover over the sounds of screaming inside about who had stepped on whose feet, which car seat they’d claimed “FIRST”, who threw their sweatshirt off and onto who’s chair…and before even reaching my door, I said out loud, “OK, HOW am I supposed to SEE YOU right now????”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was dead serious. S.O.S I told Avy earlier that morning to pray for mommy to have lots of Jesus in her heart if his brothers were going to make it through the day in good form. No matter the plight of readying them all, getting us out of the house was part of that plan…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;i.e. &lt;em&gt;The safest place for you all right now is OUT IN PUBLIC, where there is accountability, where there is someone watching, where you will stay alive and I won’t have to lock myself in the bathroom to keep you that way!&lt;/em&gt; Brian Buffini often jokes, “ I brought you into this world. I’ll take you out- and make another one that looks just like you…” I was relating.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now, I mentioned last week was a rough week with my kids, mostly because of my attitude about my life and its meaning. Plus, school hadn’t started up again for my kids and I was feeling the overload of re-training them after coming back from a fun vacation week at ‘Drammy’s’ house as well as leaving totally OPEN-ended hours for my husband to work on building his new business. But, in addition to that, was my own perspective- or lack thereof. I was a bit like a ship- no, an itty bitty boat drifting in deep, rising waters. And it spilled over a bit this week, even with my reminders in place. The truth is, it’s hard to keep a ‘revelation’ fresh. Especially when all the trials kick right back up the minute you get home from church…right? Well, I’ll confess, it took me a few days after posting the blog to get back on track…with my invisibility, that is. With the preciousness of it. With embracing it……and actually finding myself in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I did. And today, it came again, refreshing me with my goal, my purpose in being invisible when I was reminded of the absolute onslaught of orphans expected to surface in Haiti in the coming months, I almost had to leave the building. I could NOT get the images out of my head of my little 2, 3, 5 and 6 year old darlings wandering around with no food, shelter, perhaps wounded, scared, separated. Without a place to be, help, comfort…without me. Looking for me. Wondering where I’d gone…it was ENOUGH to jolt me BACK into absolutely LOVING my invisible role in my life and praying, “GOD, help me cherish the ones I have, and if there’s any way….adopt a few more to become even MORE invisible!!!!!! Please!!!!!!” It was all my heart could take comfort in. My own change, change so radical that I would willingly take on all the comes in the struggles of motherhood. After all, in comparison, what had I to complain about?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;TUESDAY-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what about when there isn’t a ‘Haiti’ to use as a reference point? On those days, even the kitchen sink full to the brim and watching my husband walk out the front door… can pull my perspective back away from the ‘God I love’ and make me question and doubt myself and what on Earth I’m even doing all over again. After all, I’m a college graduate! I’m a grown woman with dreams and aspirations…… It’s the most annoying cycle. One I continually think I should have DOWN by now and should certainly not be returning to daily or even weekly! But I do……Do you? Let that warped perspective wash back over your eyes to twist up your God-given vision? I find my little pity party version results only in frustration, feelings of insignificance and even- on some days, the loneliness that accompanies utter invisibility. Nobody sees me. I do the same thing every day and it gets undone by the next. What am I even here for????&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;God’s rendition, however, is a bit different. If we take the time to consider it, it can actually lead us right back into the light of perfect identity IN our invisibility.Is that possible? Is that not a contradiction in terms? Perhaps in the world’s eyes it is. But let’s resolve to blink HARD as we finish this topic, just as we agreed to do in the beginning and figure out where, in TRUTH, we may lay hold once and for all, of&lt;em&gt; the significance WITHIN our servitude&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How is that possible, you ask? To be visible in our vaporesqueness? (I get to make up words since I'm writing it...) We may have a whole bushel full of kids at home... We may mother AND work. We may mother and work and do it without a partner in the picture at all…then, enter the world of schooling, recreational sports/arts, etc. perhaps even care for our parents along the way, go to school ourselves and try to spend more time caring for our marriage, pursuing some of our own passions, and, and…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Doesn’t the pressure just add up? Don’t you find yourself thinking, (even if you don’t face all or even many of the aforementioned conditions…sometimes a poopy diaper is enough to do it…) “But, I’m swamped? I’m doing all that I can! I’m absolutely lost in being a Mom! There’s no time for any of the rest of it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Right?&lt;/strong&gt; I mean, the kitchen still isn't clean and yet I spent all day working on it. They still don't say 'please' and 'thank you' as often as they should for as many times as I've repeated myself... so clearly I’m now inaudible as well as invisible. They still take juice in the living room, don't lift the lid and forget to wash their hands. They still get new toys out before putting the first away, kick their shoes off in any direction and at any velocity they so choose at any given moment and cannot for all the innocence they can muster to squeeze out their huge, blue, eyelash-batting eyeballs, remember where the dirty laundry basket has been – in the same exact place since their birth, OR how to flush a toilet or close the refrigerator door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's face it. I spend all day, every day, doing the exact same thing, wearing in turn, one after the other, my entire collection of hats which turn me from chef, to maid, chauffer, nurse, nanny, lifeguard, referee, teacher, teddy bear, news anchor, janitor, banker, cheerleader, counselor, life coach- plus 10 others you could list just as easily- and still, they cannot comprehend the complexity of the word, "NO," coming out of my face.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel it coming on. The verse I can’t define for once and all time….and suddenly I’m again doing everything for everybody all the time and apparently for very little reason…… This one is seriously out to get me! Does getting the dishes all done by midnight constitute success?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Success?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all…I’m right to question this in the world’s eyes. I DO stuff all day that no one can really label. I work all day long and actually accomplish very little that is actually recognizable to the human eye. I spend countless hours repeating phrases that have worn grooves in my own brain (one day I actually corrected a man in front of me at the counter in a gas station, blurting out, "MAY I have 10$ on pump 3, PLEASE…" -And all for the same payoff I could have gotten at home, too. Blank stare. ) Sorry…I’m raising kids all day…I just……ahem. Nothing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I repeat these cycles and routines and phrases endlessly, and yet they have seemingly become merely cues for my children to flip the switch in their brains from 'on' to 'OFF'.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, her mouth is moving: 'OFF'.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, her mouth stopped moving, "ON."&lt;br /&gt;Oh wait, noise is coming out of her face, "BACK TO OFF."&lt;br /&gt;Ok, the noise has stopped coming out of her face....”ASSUME ‘ON’ MODE…”you get the point.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;WEDNESDAY-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s clear to me that if I’m going to survive this thing called ‘Motherhood’, and certainly if I’m going to be victorious in it, perspective is huge! And it’s not just in mothering…It’s everywhere. The bible tells me so…. “…&lt;strong&gt;One thing I do, forgetting that which is behind, and stretching forward to the things which lie ahead, I press on toward the goal unto the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus.” (Phil 3:13) &lt;/strong&gt;Here, we see that Paul has a future-perspective. He’s not focused on the past, not even so much the here and now, but on that which is ahead…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another evidence of how key perspective is in our ENTIRE GOAL of SEEING JESUS? How about &lt;strong&gt;Phil 4:8…Finally, brethren, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is of good repute, if there is any excellence and if anything worthy of praise, DWELL ON THESE THINGS."&lt;/strong&gt; - Again, perspective. Paul consciously chooses not to dwell on the evil of the world, of his own heart, of injuries committed against him, or shortcomings he himself has recognized as his own. He chooses instead a perspective of hope IN the madness and still to actively cherish God’s values… AS HE GOES about his calling…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is why we never give up. "&lt;strong&gt;Though our bodies are dying, our spirits are being renewed every day. For our present troubles are quite small and won't last very long. Yet they produce for us an immeasurably great glory that will last forever! So we don't look at the troubles we can see right now; rather, we look forward to what we have not yet seen. For the troubles we see will soon be over, but the joys to come will last forever ."(&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;a title="Study 2 Corinthians 4:16-18 more..." href="http://www.searchgodsword.org/desk/?sr=1&amp;amp;t=erv&amp;amp;query=2+Corinthians+4%3A16-18" target="bible"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;2 Corinthians 4:16-18&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;strong&gt;).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, what I am &lt;em&gt;once again&lt;/em&gt; realizing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Keeping perspective- GODLY perspective in my mind as my main filter is &lt;strong&gt;critical&lt;/strong&gt; for me as a person, a woman, and &lt;em&gt;ESPECIALLY &lt;/em&gt;as a mom. I can’t tell you the many times, purely out the lack of such perspective, I’ve encountered myself at the end of the day in the bathroom mirror, only to recognize myself as an identity crisis in wait…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I do everything for everybody all the time and I don't actually even know why. And they don't either…!!!&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;THURSDAY-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It sneaks in when I see wrinkles I swear were NOT there yesterday… when I’m just about to crawl in bed and the monitor rings with the sweet sounds of someone crying, coughing, puking……and my stability of the moment shatters like a house of cards. After all, there is not choice in my actions at these moments. My children need me. But my attitude? Huge opportunity to choose…EXACTLY in those moments. It’s an amazing contradiction, the life of a Mommy: I am in the midst of BEING all these people wearing the hat list and then, magically, I am no one at all.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am everywhere, but invisible. Necessary and disposable all at once. And for some reason, my flesh continues to find that defeating instead of precious!!! Can you imagine why? The spirit and flesh at WAR!!!!!!!!! IN me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, as for my flesh- the problem in this equation is that my becoming everyone in practice has left me noone in particular. I'm a mosaic of heroes for the most part, and you are, too- but if you've looked closely at a mosaic before, you know that if you simply let your eyes lose focus for one second and the artistry becomes a purplish-blur. a mass of vagueness and there have been many a morning and even more often, an evening where by midnight I am asking, “Who am I? What is it exactly that I do? And in fact, didn't I once have a title? Of any kind? Now, I’m a chameleon- add the color ‘see-through’. After all, I can be anyone belonging to any hat in the snap of a finger depending on the need of the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can even become my father, it turns out, against the most severe efforts not to and suddenly in my flesh, I am answering my children in my head:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I'm hungry......what can I haaaavvvveeee?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;I'll tell you what you can have, you can have a knuckle sandwich, that's what you can have.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"He hit me! Mom, he hit me!"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;And you're coming to me because.......you'd like me to hit you, too? " )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;Did I just think that out loud? Say that out loud? The war in me rages on. How well I know Romans 7!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See- Here’s the thing about perspective. You always have one…you just don’t always have the right one. I teach my boys routinely to see roses on a thorn bush instead of thorns amidst the roses. I teach it. I just don’t always do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can read the Word, and on some days, be doing the RIGHT thing, but hear the wrong message.&lt;br /&gt;It’s all about my perspective. I may be dawdling in God’s Word, but I’m most certainly not dealing in His Worth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again, I can hear the words, “&lt;strong&gt;I become all things to all men so that by all means that I may save a few,”&lt;/strong&gt; and think, TELL ME ABOUT IT! I KNOW, RIGHT? #@*&amp;amp;%$$#!!! And to my own detriment, (and my children’s) miss the entire point. That's the result of the fleshly vantage point...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;FRIDAY-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;IN the Spirit, however, it’s actually quite lovely, in fact, to read this verse FROM the perspective of a Mommy….I do everything for everybody all the time…- &lt;strong&gt;just as long&lt;/strong&gt; as the ending has us grounded &lt;strong&gt;back in the Beginning&lt;/strong&gt;. For what reason? For what purpose? IF it's a worthy one, I'm made purposeFUL, NOT purposeless!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, it is a truth we know well. We&lt;em&gt; DO&lt;/em&gt; do everything for everyone else, but if we never finish the sentence, or we finish it with our own words....we end with a pretty mean little pity party. I do everything all the time for no good reason......poor me.....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;SO- let’s READ FURTHER….and see WHY... why we do this. What it's worth. Without that part in place, we're doomed to the wrong vista.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have become all things to all men, so that by all means I may save a few....and I do all for the sake of the Gospel..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Gospel.&lt;br /&gt;That good news.&lt;br /&gt;That saving Grace.&lt;br /&gt;That all-redeeming reason I’m called a ‘Mommy’.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;These&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; are my children. &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;MY FEW.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; The people I love the most, over whom God gave me the chance to watch, with whom God gave me the right to spend my days and for whom God gave ME the desire to pour out my heart and life…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now then, should I be doing something else?&lt;br /&gt;With my days?&lt;br /&gt;My degree?&lt;br /&gt;My life, I mean?&lt;br /&gt;Should I be finding some greater significance?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Could I?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I simply follow the Word through to the ultimate reason WHY Paul is willing to pour himself out, to be all things to all people......surely, I find for myself the very same motivation. The very same compulsion. The very same PURPOSE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How very ironic, don't you think? Our utter invisibility IS our absolute significance. Is our purpose. And it IS A CHALLENGING purpose still, but embracing it and stewarding it to His great pride and favor, I am finally made confident that what I do &lt;em&gt;matters greatly&lt;/em&gt;. Who I am mat&lt;em&gt;ters greatly&lt;/em&gt;. What I’ve been called to &lt;em&gt;matters greatly&lt;/em&gt;. I &lt;em&gt;matter greatly...&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After all, He asked this role, of ME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;SATURDAY-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let’s recap, and then leave this one settled as our foundation to move on:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Refer back: 1 Corinthians 9:22…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"&lt;strong&gt;I have become all things for all the men&lt;/strong&gt; (in my household, at any given moment to any extent or degree&lt;strong&gt;)……so that I may by all means SAVE a few&lt;/strong&gt; (THESE few little precious hearts that God entrusted to me). And I do all for the sake of the Gospel...so that I may become a fellow &lt;strong&gt;participant &lt;/strong&gt;in it."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;JESUS' FELLOW PARTICIPANT! Good enough for you? Good enough for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides, did you see that? We came full circle! If we can just stop, daily, and wrap our heads around that cycle, we might get an infusion of His perspective. His thoughts, so much higher than our own... Then we would see ourselves more clearly as we go about our calling, and our children, HIS children, would be seen for what they truly are. After all, IN the Spirit, they are both our ‘all men’- for whom we do all these things……AND our ‘to save a few’ for whom, let’s just face it, we’d hand over our very lives without ever thinking it through. They are our everything. Our &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;what&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; we do with our lives turned His, and our forever &lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;why&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt; we do it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They are, in a huge percentage, what our lives are for, and in tending to them, every chance we have, we are living out our meaning, being who God asked us to be, doing what He asked us to do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know about you, but when I do that, I wonder: &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Could I have a greater significance&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's my choice really, how I answer that. My choice whose answer I listen to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some days I see a bit of Oprah, see up and coming women of the world and say, "How on Earth did I get myself soooo burdened???!!!!! I could be off in New York City working for a publishing house...or writing books....living a single gal lifestyle!" Other days, I can’t help but be overcome by the Holy Spirit and humbly wonder, "How in Heaven did I get so blessed? What have I ever done to deserve all this? All these kisses. All this love. All this preciousness infused into my simple little life, making it the most complex adventure I could have ever dreamt up..." It’s all about through whose eyes I’m looking. I could be blind, and if God’s heart was driving me, I could still see more clearly this simple truth than when my flesh and eyesight are supposedly working up to par…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At war within me remains the battle: I do everything for everyone all the time and apparently for very little reason...&lt;br /&gt;OR, I do all these things for everyone in my life, at any time and any price, all in order that I might SAVE MY few precious little ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On that note: I challenge myself and you-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Is there anything else we should be doing?&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;SUNDAY-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The key, is perspective. God's perspective. It's going to be the key every single day. It's going to be my choice every single day. Even when I'm tired. When the dishes are in the sink. The floor is not vacuumed or even swept. When the laundry is piling high in the corners of every closet.....When every time I hear my name, it's not even my &lt;em&gt;NAME&lt;/em&gt; anymore...because they don’t even KNOW my real name!!! Even then, God says to me, IF I WILL LISTEN, I will see as He does that I was His choice for this job. He chose to believe that I had what it was going to take, and if I didn't, He was willing to give it to me. He loved me fully and robustly right into this full-time, non-stop, un-ending opportunity to... love Him back.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And after His redemptive work on the cross for me, that’s about as flattering as it gets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Tend my sheep,” He said.&lt;br /&gt;“Take care of what is most precious to me.”&lt;br /&gt;“Be made whole in me, in SEEING ME and LIVING FOR ME by living OUT the example I set for you.”&lt;br /&gt;"Be a participant with me..."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Tend my sheep…”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;Even if it takes me my whole life long to get this, I am determined. Are you?&lt;br /&gt;Happily, gratefully, even humbly, let’s tend.&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-2387627256621636413?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/2387627256621636413/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/01/fathers-heart-through-mothers-eyes_17.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/2387627256621636413'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/2387627256621636413'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/01/fathers-heart-through-mothers-eyes_17.html' title='Invisibility Pt. 4- and Final (phew! :)'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-6829514865581848333</id><published>2010-01-10T21:48:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T21:30:08.210-08:00</updated><title type='text'>INVISIBILITY PT. 3</title><content type='html'>THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Monday-&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Let me be honest. This has been a brutal week. I don’t know why, but for some reason, I’ve been at my worst, felt under absolute attack in ALL the exact areas I’ve even been mentioning these past weeks on this blog! I have run the gamut from feeling utterly worthless, incompetent and overwhelmed at the thought of my 5th child on the way- all the way to completely undone by ‘normal’ housework, invisible to the maximum capacity, overloaded by everything still on my ‘to do’ list as well as every little person for whom it was created and utterly futile in things even remotely resembling a ‘goal.’ &lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In fact, a few nights back, Aaron read me a quote along these lines: &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;‘What you will receive when you reach your destination is nothing compared to who you will be when you reach your destination,’&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; by Zig Ziglar.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He meant to encourage me. I force-nodded and said, ‘uh-huh,’ but had ZERO ability at the time to apply it to MY life at all. He asked me what the half hearted response was about, and I thought, in a scream- (Do you do that? YELL or SCREAM your thoughts from time to time? I call it self-control - since I'm sparing others from hearing it aloud, but mostly so I don’t feel like such a beast…) – but I scream-thought, IT MEANS: " YEAH, BUT &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;YOU&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; HAVE A DESTINATION!!!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hello? Who am I writing this blog? HOW on Earth is God allowing ME to say ANYTHING on His behalf with this……ug... perspective…. And so we're back to it: perspective. I have a feeling this week’s bit is mostly FOR me. A lesson for which I’m overdue. You may ride along if you’re on my track…or if you simply enjoy seeing someone else get a ‘spanking,’ but I get the overwhelming impression that I’m getting my ‘lesson’ out loud here!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Tuesday-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, THAT was up until Saturday night........&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THEN, this morning in church it hit me. My pastor said one simple thing- not even related, really, to this topic. He referred us to Revelation 1:1 as a simple reference point, around which his entire message would orbit. But for me, IT was the sun. Not even the whole verse, simply the first line of the first verse… He said, “This is the revelation, the unveiling of Jesus Christ…”. He went on to speak of why NOT to argue over the mysteries of the text, but to keep the focal point on the fact that our goal is TO SEE JESUS. And that was all I needed. Perspective back on track, and just think- it only took me a week in MY day-to-day Mommy world to get OFF track and about 15 minutes in God’s House to get back on!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;IT IS OUR GOAL: TO SEE JESUS! EACH AND EVERY ONE OF OUR GOALS! HOURLY. DAILY. LIFE-LY. PERIOD.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;It is my goal. Your goal. Every career person, bed-ridden, healthy, sick, rich, poor, distinguished or overlooked person’s goal. Or it should be.&lt;em&gt; &lt;/em&gt;Duh! How have I even let God inscribe the preciousness of this journey I'm on as not only a mother, but a person without KNOWING that goal like I know the sight of my own children? How is it possible to forget? To get consumed by the trials of the hour, the day to the point that my end destination is simply called, 'midnight'- by which time most 'stuff' is done? How is that possible?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW- now I can hear the quote Aaron gave me and ‘get’ it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;‘What you will receive when you reach your destination is nothing compared to &lt;em&gt;who you will be&lt;/em&gt; &lt;strong&gt;when you reach your destination&lt;/strong&gt;.’&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;NOW, how much sense does that make???????? I GET IT! I’M RENEWED! I HAVE MY GOAL BACK and firmly in place, and it's true: there is NO WAY I’ll be the same woman on the other end of &lt;em&gt;seeing Jesus&lt;/em&gt; as my goal each day than I have been flopping around in my warped perspective of invisibility this week! Nose in our bibles or not: SEEING Him is different...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Wednesday-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me just confess: I am so genuinely humbled, and have NO qualifications to write this particular message, but God is faithful and merciful and I could NOT be more grateful. I feel like Paul this very moment, only without the credentials and most certainly without the words. May I borrow them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;“15Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst. 16But for that very reason I was shown mercy so that in me, the worst of sinners, Christ Jesus might display his unlimited patience as an example for those who would believe on him and receive eternal life. 17Now to the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only God, be honor and glory for ever and ever. Amen.”&lt;/strong&gt; (1 Timothy 1:15) AMEN!!!!!!!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankfully, (for ME), Paul referenced his sinful past in vs 13, and even his sinful present in (Rom 7:15,19,21). &lt;strong&gt;I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do ... (19) For what I do is not the good I want to do; no, the evil I do not want to do--this I keep on doing ... (21) So I find this law at work: When I want to do good, evil is right there with me.”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My heart surges in me! THANK GOD FOR PAUL!!!!&lt;br /&gt;Ahem.&lt;br /&gt;Me in Godly-mode: “Why because he was such an example to others, of course….”&lt;br /&gt;Me in Leanne-mode: “Phew! If there’s hope for him, then there’s hope for me!!!!!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway- This crucial ‘spanking’ (filled with love I’m sure, since He saw me all week and is still allowing me to even write these words!...) has lead me straight INTO our topic again!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perspective on who we are and what we are doing…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We’ve focused intently on the esteem of motherhood, how highly God regards this role in which He’s placed us. And I am glad we have. I want that foundation set in our hearts like stone. It is a truth upon which I believe many lessons of motherhood will build. It matters HUGELY to God that we honor Him by acknowledging the ‘domain’ over which He’s given us stewardship- IT MATTERS THAT YOU KNOW THAT YOU AND THE JOB YOU ARE DOING IS PRECIOUS AND DEAR TO HIS HEART…..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOWEVER-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;…being a mother is NOT &lt;strong&gt;who&lt;/strong&gt; we are. It is a part of who we are. It is a huge part of what we do, what we were meant, purposed, intended to do. It is an admirable and cherished calling, no doubt. That of a shepherd- SO close to God’s heart. But we have to remember that IT IS NOT WHO WE ARE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Thursday-&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, who are we? Is this the stuff of Sunday school? Perhaps, but whoever said going back to reclaim our childlike faith was a bad thing? Let's do, for a moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“&lt;strong&gt;See to it that no one takes you captive through philosophy and empty deception, according to the tradition of men, according to the elementary principles of the world, rather than according to Christ. For in Him all the fullness of Deity dwells in bodily form, and in Him you have been made complete.”&lt;/strong&gt; Col 2: 8-10&lt;br /&gt;...which pretty much takes care of that issue.....but how easily we forget, yes?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anything else that promises to complete us is an elementary principle. And I’m not talking about anything &lt;em&gt;other than &lt;/em&gt;motherhood. I'm including it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to stop for a moment to interject here, since we’ve focused so fully our attention on the high calling of being a Mom (in order that we might honor and cherish this position God has given us, but also IN IT, recognize the honor and cherishing of US by our Father in having given it to us!). Also, because we spend literally 24 hours a day BEING a Mom, it’s easy to allow it to ‘become’ us. But, if I may digress here, I feel compelled to remind myself, and any of you who may fall into the same trap as I, that even finding our completion in being a Mom is false. The text says nothing of it! It says in HIM we have been made complete. Mom or not. Career or not. Servanthood in the ministry or not. In Him. Period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even for all we've considered IN honoring our roles as mothers, it could be confusing- but we are NOT to assume our identity in Christ has been found the moment we conceived a child, adopted a child, became a Mom. Our identity in Christ happens the moment our lives are given over to and we are hiddin "IN HIM". Motherhood itself could be, even as Christians, something that steals our rightful identity if we let it! Doesn't that seem strange?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is a balance required here: being a mother is a calling, a purpose, a role, a pathway set before us by the Lord Himself, and we absolutely want to glorify him in it… after all the Word says,&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Col 3:17) &lt;strong&gt;“Whatever you do in word or deed, do all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks through Him to God the Father.”&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See, being a Mom is in large part, what we do- hopefully with joy and contented servitude . But it is &lt;em&gt;&lt;strong&gt;not&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/em&gt; who we are. Just as a pastor is not who a man called to such a high purpose is. I do believe the Lord uses it every single day to develop our character, being mothers- to build us up into His likeness, add new dimensions to our ability to comprehend his endless LOVE to our maturity….all of it, but we do want to be careful here as we indulge in loving that calling to which we’ve been beckoned, this ‘shepherding’… We want to do it to the best of our ability, allowing ourselves to be saturated in it and changed along the way by it as we get closer and closer to the goal of SEEING JESUS, hopefully hourly and daily- but we do not want to get LOST in it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HE, HIMSELF has already told us how we are truly found. We cannot hide in this identity. It isn’t one.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Friday-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a mom is precious, yes. It is highly esteemed in His eyes, yes. It is challenging and magnificently rewarding for us on one end of the spectrum. And then, monotonous and un-gratifying on the extreme other end…..but to lose OURSELVES in those adjectives would deny Christ and the very perfect work He did on the Cross in order to make US COMPLETE. And that's the last thing we want to do here!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Besides, our children will grow up. Our time will free up. It may not feel that way now, but as I remind myself often on difficult days, ‘&lt;strong&gt;The days (sometimes just the hours!) are long…but the years are short&lt;/strong&gt;.” - Brian Buffini. It keeps me grounded in pouring myself out for these little ones. They won’t always be here. And as much refreshment as comes from them attaining upward degrees of self-sufficiency, also come grievings from my heart… You mean they won’t always say things like, ‘Mama, ahwwna hode joo’? I could just die inside! BUT, it is not my completion as a person. As much as I cherish it, it is not all that I am. Different seasons and pathways will come through my life, my Lord asking me to follow them and heed His word along the way. It will not always be that I have babies at home though I will always be a mom…and being a Mom fulfills me (on most days! When I’m not having an identity crisis over the kitchen sink! " ) ...but it does not complete me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a Mom should not be a reason to be unavailable to other callings. Unmoved by other pursuits or passions. Uninvolved in the body of Christ as a servant. There will be seasons when God calls us to be home and tend purely to our own little flock, times when we’ve spread ourselves too thin across the board and He needs to reel us back in and restore us and our homes. But having children, even young children, even multiple young children, I don’t believe, is a solid case by which we should deny service to the Lord in the larger body of His sheep. Our children should see us in service to others. See us serving the body, building the body, honoring the Lord in this way can only develop our vision if HIM as a servant AND their character- and their own revelation of what true servitude is and all those it includes (them too!). In this way, we TEACH our children that which He’s taught us. To love one another in brotherly love… We also, in this way, fulill the goal of not only SEEING JESUS, but unveiling Him to our little ones.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;em&gt;Saturday-&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sunday reminded me of that goal. I am reminding myself, and you. We are victorious in all things IF we see Him. And along with that ability to SEE Him, inevitably exists the Word of God, which unveils Him to us and makes it possible in the first place.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last point for now: Let's think of it like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Being a Mom is like wearing a crown- a God-given one. We do have a role of honor, but in comparison to CHRIST? To GOD Himself, the Giver of this crown???? In light of SEEING JESUS inside this honorable role, it is a crown we MUST cast before His thrown. In doing so, we FIND our true identity and significance- as a worshiper and servant of the Most High God- and simultaneously LOSE ourselves IN HIM. Casting our crown, in this way, if you think about it, even SHOWS our children how to do the same- with any stewardship God offers to them. We show them that without CHRIST, we are and have nothing to give! We should NEVER be ashamed to let our children see us casting our crown, even at our worst, crying out, “God, I NEED YOU, in order to be the mother You’ve asked me to be!”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It’s ok. I had a bad week, LAST WEEK. Maybe you did too. Or if not, likely at some point you will. Try to remember along with me that we serve a God of WAY beyond 2nd chances! We DO Have a goal: &lt;strong&gt;To see JESUS&lt;/strong&gt;. &lt;strong&gt;To unveil Him before our children, even if it’s in brokenness. To cast our crowns before Him and be MADE COMPLETE&lt;/strong&gt;, not by being the world’s greatest mom, but by owning that IN CHRIST alone we are made whole, then taking our wholeness and doing the job He's set before us!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think if I can keep that front and center- I’ll be much changed in my journey of mommy-hood by the end of every single day- by seeing Him unveiled throughout it... I’ll bet you will, too.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-6829514865581848333?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/6829514865581848333/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/01/fathers-heart-through-mothers-eyes.html#comment-form' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/6829514865581848333'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/6829514865581848333'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2010/01/fathers-heart-through-mothers-eyes.html' title='INVISIBILITY PT. 3'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-1028660378059704360</id><published>2009-12-30T00:26:00.001-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T21:32:23.829-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Invisibility Pt. 2-</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"I have become all things to all men, that I may by all means save a few."&lt;/span&gt; (1 Cor 9:22 )&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, as we ended last week we resolved, you WONDERS of your FATHER’S HEART…and I, to blink HARD and get our &lt;em&gt;own&lt;/em&gt; exhaustion-induced version of this key verse out of our minds. HERE is WHY I want this for you and I so badly:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I KNOW, that if we can grasp the magnitude of the honor God has bestowed upon us in asking us to raise HIS children… If we can truly let it sink it and settle in our hearts that our Father chose US just as confidently and intentionally as he knit our children together, to carry out the immense and magnificent challenge of bringing his babies safely through this world and back home to HIM, having given Him glory on their journeys, and even grabbing up a few stragglers along their way…. fulfilling their own purposes... If THAT concept could authentically live inside of us daily, in even the most monotonous, arduous days, even the utterly 'invisible' ones, we would KNOW inside and out,that there is no greater purpose for our lives.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's huge. We would KNOW there is no deeper meaning. No more successful ‘job’ or career path. No more distinguished title than our own: MOMMY. There is no more flattering promotion or once a year bonus than those tiny, muffled up daily words… “Ahhwna hode joo” (My 2 year old’s version of “I wanna hold you”). It ALWAYS incites me to respond, "That's so funny because I want to hold you, too!" I could cry at the extravagance of that kind of love. And MY GOD, not only called ME and YOU to the task of raising these, each our own, unique and individual kiddos, but also infused that ‘duty’ not with a paycheck or a plaque, promotion or preferred parking spot, but with the wet, yummy, goldfish -lip kisses and tender little “hode joo’s” that we receive daily. Does it get better? I wonder, really? Does it? Better than tucking those bitty heart-boosters in your heart as you go along...?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do our husbands get that at work? I had to laugh at my husband last week, but now, I almost feel sorry for him. I don't care that he's in bed. I don't care that I'll regret staying up so late tomorrow morning. I don't care. I don't want to trade!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want us to GET the fact that we are, above all, cherished by our Father. And ONE of the many, many ways we get to know this intimately, and daily, is by the sheer fact that He's asked of us a thing more dear to His heart than we can even fathom. We think WE love our children? Imagine with HIS capacity for love, how much more so He loves them. And us. HE HAS entrusted them to us! Think yourself a shepherd....and I'll tell you why that is the highest calling your life could assume in a bit... For this moment, let's just agree on one thing: I am a blessed woman. And YOU, you Wonder of your Father’s Heart, YOU are a blessed woman, too. So, BLINK HARD with me, and let’s get this perspective down RIGHT so we can not only walk confidently in this calling of motherhood, but ALSO receive IN IT, the love with which he means to fill us for the road ahead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If nothing else, let these words become for YOU, a love letter that God has slipped into our apron pockets each new morning. It is, after all, a tender reassurance of our value to Him. It is a message endlessly infused with words of His confidence in His own choice of YOU for the task He has set before you- the good works He's set up for you to walk into. It is a letter affirming His intention that YOU know there is no more prestigious, honored role in HIS eyes that you could be playing in your life, than tending to His little sheep. Becoming all things…..to save your few…&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THAT'S WHY WE'RE DWELLING HERE! YOU WERE CHOSEN FOR THIS! I don't want you to miss out on the fact that YOU are precious here, too. God did fine before us and will do fine after- but His intent to bring future generations of lovers of the King into this world DID, in fact, settle upon you (and not as a punishment!!!! though you may wonder on some days..... :) He could have gotten these little ones here through any means. But YOU were chosen, by His divine knowledge and intimate love for YOU. It was His knowledge of YOUR heart and all the goodness that you've allowed Him to sow deep within it: the faith, hope and love.....that HE saw and found worthy for the task of mothering these lambs. YOU were graciously selected for THIS time and THIS task with THESE CHILDREN! That, my sisters, is flattery!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Now, before you get too hung up on the emphasis on 'YOU', as many believers can, please recognize, I am simply wanting to point out that we can only walk this motherhood journey in steps truly glorious to HIM if we have the right perspective, and that requires a correct understanding. If we feel it an assignment to be a mom, or an obligation, a burden even....we aren't evil, we just aren't RECEIVING the full package of love God has in it for YOU, too! (Remember, the little ones around your feet or driving your car aren't His only 'babies'! You happen to fit that description as well) We started out in our faith by responding to HIS initiation of love toward us. Likewise, we will only rise to this calling of mommy-hood joyful and spirit-filled only if we see it for what it is: A beckoning to &lt;em&gt;accept&lt;/em&gt; His choice in &lt;em&gt;us&lt;/em&gt; for this purpose- AND an opportunity to respond to such humbling adoration by raising our little ones in the influence of such awareness!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Want back up proof? Remember this simple truth. Jesus chose broken, fallen, even desertion-oriented Peter to become the rock upon which His church would be built. He chose simple words in John 21:17: “Feed my sheep” or “Tend my lambs.” But the message was not simple. You know this by experience. The call to shepherd God’s children was not a casual one. It was one requiring absolute dedication and of great urgency to Jesus. One that would involve great obedience, sacrifice and one that was, in fact, not a menial or mundane set of routing tasks, but a sacred trust.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This request, as I see it, was a seal of love between Jesus and Peter- Jesus asking Peter the extent of his love 3 different times, "Peter, do you love me?"- and even in his multiple honest, but certainly not ideal answers, Jesus conceded by providing all the reconciliation for those shortcomings possible. He basically said, I am giving you this precious ‘job’. Do this for me, show me your love for me by loving my children… And likewise, Peter, you have no choice but to see that I love you, WITH all your shortcomings, with your lacking love for me, with your imperfections included. You can see this because I am entrusting to YOU, my most cherished and sacred belongings… In essence, you fail in your love for me, but MY love for you is enough to make up for your 'like' for me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does that encourage you as it does me???? Even if you don't FULLY grasp HIS love for you, if you see yourself in your shortcomings with regard to your children, when you have a shorter temper than you'd like or fall short in any of a million ways (that only you are keeping track of.....) Jesus said it to Peter. I trust He says it to us too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That number one thing that was on His mind then is still monumental in His heart NOW: finding care for his 'sheep'....He entrusted them to Peter even after watching him falter down the ladder of love three times to a final, "Lord, you know I LIKE you....." still, the Lord handed him His most precious of concerns and said, take care of this for me. My translation? &lt;em&gt;I love YOU enough to make up for your like for me. And THAT seal will give you what you need to do this thing I have asked of you. To become a shepherd over my flock.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Call yourself a shepherd this week. In spite of every single flaw you find. He STILL handed these big-eyed, little wonders to you.... Just soak in that for awhile, and scoop up a few "hode joos" while you're at it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh- and tell my YOUR little ones' versions of 'hode joo' if you can. i LOVE 'em!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-1028660378059704360?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/1028660378059704360/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2009/12/fathers-heart-through-mothers-eyes_30.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/1028660378059704360'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/1028660378059704360'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2009/12/fathers-heart-through-mothers-eyes_30.html' title='Invisibility Pt. 2-'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-5435462218507982232</id><published>2009-12-21T00:12:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2010-01-28T21:34:06.878-08:00</updated><title type='text'>INVISIBILITY: PT 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;THE FATHER'S HEART THROUGH A MOTHER'S EYES: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;EXPERIENCING GOD'S LOVE FOR ME THROUGH MY OWN EXPERIENCE OF LOVING MY CHILDREN&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:times new roman;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:trebuchet ms;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:130%;"&gt;"I have become all things to all men, that I may by all means save a few." 1 Cor 9:22 &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;A few days ago, I had the rare opportunity to witness my husband grappling with what was, to him, a rather foreign and formidable foe. He only wrestled it a few hours while I was away, but this menacing adversary had fixed itself like a black cloud over his entire day- and had, by noon, very nearly obscured his entire outlook on life. The particular adversary? Simple and simply-precarious perspective. Let me tell you what happened, which as you’ll see, was really the nothingness of everything we face as Mommies, Every. Single. Day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My phone rang and I answered. I compassionately listened as he expressed the weight of a seeming parasite which had invaded his brain and was gnawing the absolute purpose and meaning, minute by minute, from his day. After a time, I could not help myself… and I laughed out loud. I did. I laughed hard. Not at him so much- but at the absurdity that this struggle was, to him, a “revelation.” With sheer exhaustion and a solid dose of naiveté weighting his voice, he lamented into the phone… “It’s just so hard to actually accomplish anything…Do you know what I mean????”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Yes.” I said. “Yes, I do…” And I chose then and there to laugh instead of cry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Firstly, I laughed for the most obvious reason: He was home with the kids- while I, hours away, drove safely, staring down the incandescent waves as they flirted with the sun and peeled along the coastline along the 101 from Oxnard up to Montecito… “Neener, Neener…” (Never mind that I was on my way back home from a Dr. Appt. No matter. I was OUT of the house, and I was alone.)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, I laughed that he was only home with TWO of our four boys at the time of his call! I had dropped Em off on my way out of town and I had packed Avy’s snack and backpack before leaving and I was going to be picking them both up on my way back home and I would arrive back home with the older boys just in time to put the babies down for naps…so in reality, my dear husband had evaded even the routine complications of stuffing babies into the car multiple times a day for multiple trips to and from the school- and almost everything else. He was calling me, as it would turn out, from the park!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(Now, don’t get me wrong here. The purpose for this story has nothing to do with capability. My husband regularly takes our four boys, all of whom are under six, to the beach or the mountains to hike for hours at a time- often much to my heightened anxiety, and he handles it beautifully-just to give me a break. But what I’m talking about here, is perspective.) ON a ‘stay at home’ day, when homework and getting to and from school is a factor, when dishes ravage the sink without ever ceasing, when laundry splays itself boldly upstairs and down, daring me one sniff it before making the next move… on a ‘normal’ day when the constant task of keeping food in their tummies, diapers freshly ON their bodies and discerning the correct ratio of disciplining the necessary behavior to fighting actually worthwhile battles all factor in- on this type of day, the type of day I have almost every day, where perspective is vital, my husband actually had the notion that he’d stay home and “get some stuff done.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thirdly, the fact remained that his “epiphany” was far more the rule than the exception in my every-dailiness as a mother, and was, in fact, nowhere near foreign- not even nudging close to being novel or distinct in any way. It was not of another time, place, or world. It was neither dreamt up, rooted in fiction or fantasy though I will admit- it certainly did not wear well on him. But then, it did not belong to him. This particular battle with PERSPECTIVE was, after all, MINE. My husband, it seems, had not, for all his insinuatation to the contrary, undergone an out-of-body experience.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He had simply experienced a ‘day in the life’ of – ME. Me, without a career which afforded me an actual title. Me, without a paycheck coming in weekly or monthly. Me, without a clear-cut plan for executing a clearly defined set of goals for the day. A day in the life of ME.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is perspective on my daily life, perspective on my role in my family, in this world extending beyond my four walls, perspective on my meaning, my purpose, what it is exactly that I DO and if it carries any significance at all… it is perspective that MOST OFTEN gets the better of me, if I let it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This conflict with perspective rages sometimes when I’m not even aware of it, as I simply go about my days following the rhythms of normal-crazy family life, filling my children’s endless chasm of needs, tending to the eternal ‘household-to-do’ list… It remains the backdrop of my life, acknowledged or not, and I found it humorous, while I fight for the right perspective daily…that my husband, in one profound ‘revelation,’ after a comparatively minuscule period of time spent in my world, found himself nearly undone by the struggle for Godly perspective of a stay-at-home-Mommy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Do YOU know what I mean?”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do YOU?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In my absolute certainty, let me confide that I believe you DO. Even if you don’t have multiple kids. If you have one, two or three. If you have four, or like me, have or are about to have five, I don’t think this is a foreign concept. And so, may I present a verse to you? Return us to the bit of scripture that has the power to both torment OR set us free IN the midst of the artillery and shrapnel of this particular daily assault on God’s plan in our lives?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;"I have become all things to all men, that I may by all means save a few." 1 Cor 9:22&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does this resonate with anyone out there?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And may I also take the liberty here to confess to you, my sisters, my friends, my fellow Mommies, that if indeed scripture is alive, (and I believe it is) this particular little bedbug keeps me tossing and turning far too often at night when it's dark and my vision is blurred. And it can follow me right into morning if I let it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yes. On days lacking true, Godly perspective on my life, my role in this lifetime and any significance it may carry, I could easily read this verse and hear:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:180%;"&gt;"I do everything all the time for everybody and apparently for very little reason.”&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;THAT is how I could read it, and admittedly do on some days. That interpretation is precisely why I’m writing this devotion. And why I’m determined to prove to myself and to you that perspective is nothing short of critical. My fleshly adaptation of this verse can equal defeat at best on any given day, but God’s promise offers victory and even, distinction. My warped version results in frustration, insignificance and even- on some days, the loneliness that accompanies utter invisibility. God’s rendition, however, leads me right back into the light of perfect identity IN my invisibility.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is that possible? Is that not a contradiction in terms? Perhaps in the world’s eyes it is. But let’s resolve to blink HARD and figure out wherein we might both read and lay hold of the significance WITHIN our servitude.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To be continued… &lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-5435462218507982232?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/5435462218507982232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2009/12/fathers-heart-through-mothers-eyes.html#comment-form' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/5435462218507982232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/5435462218507982232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2009/12/fathers-heart-through-mothers-eyes.html' title='INVISIBILITY: PT 1'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-8349813398288598347</id><published>2009-12-12T08:50:00.000-08:00</published><updated>2009-12-15T11:48:08.266-08:00</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SyPKOFjvt6I/AAAAAAAAACM/eFfgNHFPty0/s1600-h/Em+and+Mommy.jpg"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5414393520388552610" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 400px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 300px" alt="" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SyPKOFjvt6I/AAAAAAAAACM/eFfgNHFPty0/s400/Em+and+Mommy.jpg" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-8349813398288598347?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/8349813398288598347/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2009/12/em-made-me-necklace.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/8349813398288598347'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/8349813398288598347'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2009/12/em-made-me-necklace.html' title=''/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SyPKOFjvt6I/AAAAAAAAACM/eFfgNHFPty0/s72-c/Em+and+Mommy.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-7527916409552575747</id><published>2009-08-03T18:46:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-12-11T10:02:57.994-08:00</updated><title type='text'>Living Every Girl's Dream...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SneTrd9v81I/AAAAAAAAABk/zyGf_zmd7SE/s1600-h/mommy+kisses.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5365919856022516562" style="FLOAT: left; MARGIN: 0px 10px 10px 0px; WIDTH: 300px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 400px" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SneTrd9v81I/AAAAAAAAABk/zyGf_zmd7SE/s400/mommy+kisses.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;"Met a boy, sweet as can be......"&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-7527916409552575747?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/7527916409552575747/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2009/08/summer-lovin.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/7527916409552575747'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/7527916409552575747'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2009/08/summer-lovin.html' title='Living Every Girl&apos;s Dream...'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SneTrd9v81I/AAAAAAAAABk/zyGf_zmd7SE/s72-c/mommy+kisses.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-9194840517494151140</id><published>2009-07-02T00:41:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-02T00:42:59.144-07:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='summer sugar'/><title type='text'>Me and Gaby</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/Skxk3j6904I/AAAAAAAAAA8/t5pjIWPorp8/s1600-h/IMG_6591.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353764962734822274" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; WIDTH: 240px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 320px; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/Skxk3j6904I/AAAAAAAAAA8/t5pjIWPorp8/s320/IMG_6591.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-9194840517494151140?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/9194840517494151140/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2009/07/me-and-gaby.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/9194840517494151140'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/9194840517494151140'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2009/07/me-and-gaby.html' title='Me and Gaby'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/Skxk3j6904I/AAAAAAAAAA8/t5pjIWPorp8/s72-c/IMG_6591.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-6380046254207604061</id><published>2009-07-01T15:34:00.000-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-06T13:10:52.185-07:00</updated><title type='text'>Blue, Blue</title><content type='html'>Blue, blue&lt;br /&gt;Waves you cry&lt;br /&gt;Tears of ocean&lt;br /&gt;Salt and sky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Something taken&lt;br /&gt;Now, it’s gone&lt;br /&gt;Toes dug down&lt;br /&gt;You can’t move on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In winds of reasons-&lt;br /&gt;-clouds you hide&lt;br /&gt;Horizon answers&lt;br /&gt;Far and wide&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No one hears you&lt;br /&gt;What you speak&lt;br /&gt;No one seeks you&lt;br /&gt;As you seek&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Pick a shell&lt;br /&gt;Palm it tight&lt;br /&gt;Doesn’t matter&lt;br /&gt;No one’s right&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But take it home&lt;br /&gt;And place it where&lt;br /&gt;It cannot lose&lt;br /&gt;It’s ocean stare&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is grounding-&lt;br /&gt;You will see&lt;br /&gt;Beginning back when&lt;br /&gt;You see me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Here in hiding&lt;br /&gt;Waters rise&lt;br /&gt;Here in waiting&lt;br /&gt;Waters’ eyes&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Too long ago&lt;br /&gt;Too far beneath&lt;br /&gt;Now death has taken&lt;br /&gt;Over sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You cannot wake him&lt;br /&gt;Or be awoke&lt;br /&gt;The baby bones&lt;br /&gt;He broke are broke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Arms that dangle&lt;br /&gt;Bent astray&lt;br /&gt;He is why&lt;br /&gt;Love goes away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ever with you&lt;br /&gt;Beneath your skin&lt;br /&gt;Becoming all of&lt;br /&gt;You within&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Black and filthy&lt;br /&gt;Shadow glaze&lt;br /&gt;Words that save you&lt;br /&gt;Come from haze&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all the eyes&lt;br /&gt;Have seen your gait&lt;br /&gt;Your limp and stagger&lt;br /&gt;His dead weight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They all saw&lt;br /&gt;but would not touch&lt;br /&gt;The dark way&lt;br /&gt;You became too much&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They stay away&lt;br /&gt;This fear is true&lt;br /&gt;It's only &lt;em&gt;mostly &lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tainting you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;They won’t touch&lt;br /&gt;And shouldn’t dare&lt;br /&gt;The leaking traces&lt;br /&gt;Everywhere&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One Little child&lt;br /&gt;One little girl&lt;br /&gt;One sleepy baby&lt;br /&gt;Against the world&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Blue, blue&lt;br /&gt;Waves you cry&lt;br /&gt;Tears of ocean&lt;br /&gt;Salt and sky&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at me now,&lt;br /&gt;Who am I?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-6380046254207604061?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/6380046254207604061/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2009/07/blue-blue.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/6380046254207604061'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/6380046254207604061'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2009/07/blue-blue.html' title='Blue, Blue'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6661676293053780230.post-313762429441583302</id><published>2009-06-30T22:59:00.001-07:00</published><updated>2009-07-01T15:18:20.464-07:00</updated><title type='text'>One of my guys</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/Skr7q7fDjeI/AAAAAAAAAAs/WiSNaQNOs1o/s1600-h/IMG_6554.JPG"&gt;&lt;img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5353367822024281570" style="FLOAT: right; MARGIN: 0px 0px 10px 10px; WIDTH: 320px; CURSOR: hand; HEIGHT: 240px" alt="" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/Skr7q7fDjeI/AAAAAAAAAAs/WiSNaQNOs1o/s320/IMG_6554.JPG" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div&gt;how could a girl complain?&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6661676293053780230-313762429441583302?l=bmybutterfly.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/feeds/313762429441583302/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2009/06/first-test.html#comment-form' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/313762429441583302'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6661676293053780230/posts/default/313762429441583302'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bmybutterfly.blogspot.com/2009/06/first-test.html' title='One of my guys'/><author><name>bmybutterfly</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/13097462872481989675</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/SnkZ36PeTJI/AAAAAAAAABs/oLTdRLijY_U/S220/mommy+kisses.JPG'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://3.bp.blogspot.com/_OXJ0prVsyBE/Skr7q7fDjeI/AAAAAAAAAAs/WiSNaQNOs1o/s72-c/IMG_6554.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
