This summer has already been a frenzy of activity, and it is speeding up again. Tomorrow we leave for Puerto Rico, and we are stopping by Disneyworld on the way home! I've got an unending to-do list that is far more than is likely to be accomplished today, but I'm very excited about all the fun we will have.
I wanted to have some meaningful post to leave up here, but my brain is too far into auto-pilot mode to come up with much. That's OK. What I do hope all of you remember is that you were created by God. You are a treasure. He delights in your personality, even in the parts that you think are quirky, weird, or just embarrassing. He loves you. He likes you. He wants you. You know that expression that a new mom gets with her baby? He loves you like that. He wants to be with you for all eternity, because even a lifetime with you is not enough for Him. He knows you inside and out, and He chooses you. He has never doubted that you are worth loving, no matter what the cost. Can you hear His love-whispers to you? Snuggle close, and feel Him breathe on you. You are loved.
Tuesday, July 7, 2009
Saturday, July 4, 2009
Isaac and the Rest of the Story (again)
Another recycled post here. At least 'tis the season for reruns, right? Thinking today about the sacrifices made for our country made this seem appropriate. Faith and courage grow out of trust and a love that believes the beloved is worth any price.
Isaac's sacrifice--the rest of the story
We are all familiar with the story of Abraham and Isaac. Isaac was the beloved, long-awaited miracle child. God asked Abraham to sacrifice his precious son, but just before the knife fell intervened and told Abe not to go through with it. As a parent, my stomach churns at the mere thought of losing one of my children. But I wonder about the rest of the story.
Did Sarah know what was going on? Did God or Abraham talk to her about this? If so, what were her thoughts and feelings? She was obviously a protective mother--what went through her mind and heart when she heard about this sacrifice? Did Abraham trust her enough to talk to her about it? Did she trust God enough to agree to it?
Perhaps even more importantly, why did Isaac go along with it? Abraham was very old--surely if young, strong Isaac had resisted, he could have escaped. Why did he allow Abraham to bind him and lay him on the altar?
It is possible, of course, that God somehow paralyzed him, or that Abraham tricked him into being bound and helpless. But, somehow, I don't think so. I believe that Isaac trusted God and his father enough to voluntarily agree to the sacrifice. And that leads me to wonder how that trust and faith were built through the years. Am I helping my children to know God in such a way that they will choose to give their lives to Him? I may never get the rest of the details of Isaac's side of the story, but I hope to see my children learn to love and trust God so much that they gladly lay their lives down as a living sacrifice.
Isaac's sacrifice--the rest of the story
We are all familiar with the story of Abraham and Isaac. Isaac was the beloved, long-awaited miracle child. God asked Abraham to sacrifice his precious son, but just before the knife fell intervened and told Abe not to go through with it. As a parent, my stomach churns at the mere thought of losing one of my children. But I wonder about the rest of the story.
Did Sarah know what was going on? Did God or Abraham talk to her about this? If so, what were her thoughts and feelings? She was obviously a protective mother--what went through her mind and heart when she heard about this sacrifice? Did Abraham trust her enough to talk to her about it? Did she trust God enough to agree to it?
Perhaps even more importantly, why did Isaac go along with it? Abraham was very old--surely if young, strong Isaac had resisted, he could have escaped. Why did he allow Abraham to bind him and lay him on the altar?
It is possible, of course, that God somehow paralyzed him, or that Abraham tricked him into being bound and helpless. But, somehow, I don't think so. I believe that Isaac trusted God and his father enough to voluntarily agree to the sacrifice. And that leads me to wonder how that trust and faith were built through the years. Am I helping my children to know God in such a way that they will choose to give their lives to Him? I may never get the rest of the details of Isaac's side of the story, but I hope to see my children learn to love and trust God so much that they gladly lay their lives down as a living sacrifice.
Thursday, July 2, 2009
Recycled--Shame off you!
I have been so crazily busy the last few days that I haven't had much time for my blog. And, in all honesty, my mind has been on auto-pilot just doing the next thing to get done. So I thought I would recycle a few of my early posts, back from when I first started the blog almost a year ago. I'll have some new material, and some pics, soon!
As I prayed this week about what to share, the one thing that kept coming was, “Tell them I love them”. I am embarrassed to say that my first response was almost to write it off. I mean, we all know that already, right? It is the first thing that we learn as believers—Jesus loves me. But the more I listened, the more I realized how easy it is for us to lose that message. Somehow, it gets watered down in our minds to mean “Jesus tolerates me”. Am I the only one guilty of this?
I look at the deep love I have for my husband and children, and the delight I have in them, yet it is so easy to doubt that God delights in me. I don’t doubt that He has forgiven me, but for some reason, a part of me expects Him to look at me with…I don’t know…disappointment? Resignation? As though loving me is merely an obligation on His part.
The good news is, the Bible paints a very different picture of His love for us. It is passionate, joyful, aching for intimacy with us!
“The Lord your God is with you, He is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, He will quiet you with His love, He will rejoice over you with singing.” Zeph. 3:17. Imagine that—the King of the Universe is so delighted with you that He sings about it! One version says that He shouts for joy!
He wants us. He wants to be close to us. And I think that most of us long to be closer to Him. What impedes us? Sin, of course, but I think that often it is not the sin itself, but the shame. We give ourselves to Him and receive freedom and forgiveness, but we don’t always give our shame to Him. We hold onto it, replay things in our minds, and try to “punish” ourselves with reminders of how we have fallen short. And I think that breaks His heart.
He knows everything, right? So, He knew everything about us, all the mistakes we would make, all the faults, and He still decided that WE WERE WORTH LOVING. He isn’t disappointed in us, because to be disappointed, you have to expect something else.
Obviously, He wants us to be free from sin. Romans 6 makes it clear that we are no longer to be in bondage to sin. But it is interesting to me that after that is dealt with, Romans 8 goes on to remind us that there is no longer any condemnation for those in Christ Jesus.
Ironically, sometimes our very efforts to become closer to God are the source of our shame. Growing up, I would make all these promises to spend x amount of time praying, reading my Bible etc. The days that I didn’t reach my goal I felt so guilty. I still believe that those disciplines are important, but they aren’t my goal—the goal is spending time with Him. I’ve discovered the joy and intimacy of doing nothing with God. Just as some of my favorite moments with Carlos aren’t always about having deep discussions, but just snuggling close on the couch while I read and he watches TV or whatever. There is an underlying awareness of the other’s presence that makes us both smile inside.
God loves us. He really, deeply passionately loves us. He enjoys us. And He longs for us to let go of our shame, and step forward as His bride, radiant and beautiful in His eyes. “I have loved you with an everlasting love; I have drawn you with loving-kindness.” Jer. 31:3. I hope that this week you will be filled with the sense of His presence throughout your day, that you will let go of any shame, and revel in His song over you.
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
Hair today, gone tomorrow?
Summer is here, and it is time to break out the tank tops, swim suits and other hot-weather survival gear...and maybe the razor?
This is a dilemma I face every summer season now. Oh, for the innocent days of my youth when I naively assumed that being able to shave was a cool part of being grown up. I actually liked the idea back then. Of course, that was a couple of decades ago. I also wore hose/tights at times then, and had sensory issues that made the prickle of hair underneath them absolutely awful. As I've grown, I've come to see pantyhose as a demonic device, much the way most people nowadays would view torture relics from the Inquisition, and have found my freedom.
I am somewhat ambivelent, however, about embracing life as a hirsute hippy. Now, since I've had kids, I've naturally progressed towards a more, er, natural lifestyle in many respects, anyway. We practice child-led weaning, cloth diaper, don't vaccinate or circ, and generally go along with many of the other tenets of those who appreciate the way our bodies are designed. When my oldest daughter asked me why I shaved my legs, I had no satisfactory answer.
I am not usually one to do things just because "everyone else" is doing it. Besides, I have enough friends in enough places to know that not everyone finds the absence of hair more attractive.
Despite my preference for natural childbirth, I am a total wimp and would never consider anything like waxing or any other form of hair removal that could possibly involve pain, however fleeting or minor. I am sensitive to the chemicals in dipilatories, so those are out. Which leaves only a razor, and I get razor burn easily.
Somehow, though, I admit to a mild asthetic preference for smooth, hairless skin. And, TMI perhaps, but I find it easier to smell fresh and ladylike without a ton of hair, also more of a consideration when it is 100+ degrees outside.
But, I am also lazy, and not inclined to shave daily, anyhow. And with three kidlets, time alone in the bathroom is rare enough that I don't want to commit to the upkeep.
So most of the time, I compromise. I shave under my arms frequently in summer, knees and below if they will be visible/I plan on swimming. And while it may comes as a disappointment to some readers (more likely a relief), I won't go into details about more personal areas except to say that the occasional trim with scissors is the most I'll do there (see previous comments on waxing, et al. Ouch! I crossed my legs just thinking of it).
Yet, as I consider items to pack for this summer's trip, I sigh inwardly and wonder why, and even if, I should bother to pack a razor. Would I feel differently if I had grown up in a culture where women didn't normally shave? It is interesting to think about all the little things that go into beauty rituals across time and place. Which ones are worth passing on to my daughter?
Eh, I'm over-thinking it.
This is a dilemma I face every summer season now. Oh, for the innocent days of my youth when I naively assumed that being able to shave was a cool part of being grown up. I actually liked the idea back then. Of course, that was a couple of decades ago. I also wore hose/tights at times then, and had sensory issues that made the prickle of hair underneath them absolutely awful. As I've grown, I've come to see pantyhose as a demonic device, much the way most people nowadays would view torture relics from the Inquisition, and have found my freedom.
I am somewhat ambivelent, however, about embracing life as a hirsute hippy. Now, since I've had kids, I've naturally progressed towards a more, er, natural lifestyle in many respects, anyway. We practice child-led weaning, cloth diaper, don't vaccinate or circ, and generally go along with many of the other tenets of those who appreciate the way our bodies are designed. When my oldest daughter asked me why I shaved my legs, I had no satisfactory answer.
I am not usually one to do things just because "everyone else" is doing it. Besides, I have enough friends in enough places to know that not everyone finds the absence of hair more attractive.
Despite my preference for natural childbirth, I am a total wimp and would never consider anything like waxing or any other form of hair removal that could possibly involve pain, however fleeting or minor. I am sensitive to the chemicals in dipilatories, so those are out. Which leaves only a razor, and I get razor burn easily.
Somehow, though, I admit to a mild asthetic preference for smooth, hairless skin. And, TMI perhaps, but I find it easier to smell fresh and ladylike without a ton of hair, also more of a consideration when it is 100+ degrees outside.
But, I am also lazy, and not inclined to shave daily, anyhow. And with three kidlets, time alone in the bathroom is rare enough that I don't want to commit to the upkeep.
So most of the time, I compromise. I shave under my arms frequently in summer, knees and below if they will be visible/I plan on swimming. And while it may comes as a disappointment to some readers (more likely a relief), I won't go into details about more personal areas except to say that the occasional trim with scissors is the most I'll do there (see previous comments on waxing, et al. Ouch! I crossed my legs just thinking of it).
Yet, as I consider items to pack for this summer's trip, I sigh inwardly and wonder why, and even if, I should bother to pack a razor. Would I feel differently if I had grown up in a culture where women didn't normally shave? It is interesting to think about all the little things that go into beauty rituals across time and place. Which ones are worth passing on to my daughter?
Eh, I'm over-thinking it.
Saturday, June 27, 2009
Spotlight on Carrie!
Hey, everybody!
An awesome missionary friend of mine just stated blogging. Check out her site at: http://www.perfectinhim.blogspot.com/ She has breath-taking pics, adorable kids, and wonderful recipes which I am hoping she will share. :)
An awesome missionary friend of mine just stated blogging. Check out her site at: http://www.perfectinhim.blogspot.com/ She has breath-taking pics, adorable kids, and wonderful recipes which I am hoping she will share. :)
Friday, June 26, 2009
A birthday poop story
My precious Elena turns one today. I was thinking a lot last night about the miracle of her birth. It truly was amazing how God worked out so many details. Our OB, who has been practicing for several decades, had never seen a situation like that before.
Seeing her personality grow and develop this past year has been so much fun. She is feisty and loving, determined, sensitive and loves to smile and laugh. Our family would be incomplete without her.
So, all morning, I've been in a sentimental, slightly sappy mood. My darling baby decided to bring a healthy dose of reality into that. I was changing her diaper when Joel woke up. He wasn't feeling well, and climbed into my lap to nurse. I cuddled him, then smelled the most awful stench. My first thought was that he had had diarrhea or something, but he was clean.
I looked over, and Elena had two handfuls of the most horrible Playdough substitute you could imagine. I'll spare you a graphic description of color and consistency, but it was not typical breastfed-baby-poo. It is going to be a looooong time before I crave guacamole again.
In the split second that I was frozen in horror, she managed to spread it through her hair and face, then grab my hair before I could dodge. (I sprained my foot, and am really slow these days).
Realizing that all was lost, anyway, I scooped her up to hobble to the bathroom. She had also managed to cover two of my shoes and one of Joel's, along with an impressive amount of carpet. She never has that much in a diaper--why now?! Ay, ay ay.
We are both bathed and no longer covered in smelly, hazardous biomatter. I've had the carpet extractor out, but it still needs work. We're off to celebrate the birthday (without any more of the little cookies I gave her last night. Not sure if she was allergic to something in there, but it definitely didn't agree with her). The birthday has got to get sweeter from here, right? :D
Seeing her personality grow and develop this past year has been so much fun. She is feisty and loving, determined, sensitive and loves to smile and laugh. Our family would be incomplete without her.
So, all morning, I've been in a sentimental, slightly sappy mood. My darling baby decided to bring a healthy dose of reality into that. I was changing her diaper when Joel woke up. He wasn't feeling well, and climbed into my lap to nurse. I cuddled him, then smelled the most awful stench. My first thought was that he had had diarrhea or something, but he was clean.
I looked over, and Elena had two handfuls of the most horrible Playdough substitute you could imagine. I'll spare you a graphic description of color and consistency, but it was not typical breastfed-baby-poo. It is going to be a looooong time before I crave guacamole again.
In the split second that I was frozen in horror, she managed to spread it through her hair and face, then grab my hair before I could dodge. (I sprained my foot, and am really slow these days).
Realizing that all was lost, anyway, I scooped her up to hobble to the bathroom. She had also managed to cover two of my shoes and one of Joel's, along with an impressive amount of carpet. She never has that much in a diaper--why now?! Ay, ay ay.
We are both bathed and no longer covered in smelly, hazardous biomatter. I've had the carpet extractor out, but it still needs work. We're off to celebrate the birthday (without any more of the little cookies I gave her last night. Not sure if she was allergic to something in there, but it definitely didn't agree with her). The birthday has got to get sweeter from here, right? :D
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Happy Abba's Day
It is very cool to me that God chose to reveal Himself as our Father. He wants us to approach Him as our Daddy. Daddy. Papi. Abba.
One of the best things in my life the last five years has been seeing our kids relate to Carlos. They love being with him.
Every morning, Elena looks for him as soon as she wakes up, and joyfully squeals "Dadada!" as soon as she sees him. She'll fearlessly launch herself towards him, knowing that he'll catch her. The trust and delight in their relationship is incredibly sweet.
Joel has taken to singing songs to Carlos on a regular basis, just because he loves pouring out his heart to his daddy. Last night, Joel fell asleep singing to him. They play games constantly, and his laughter with Carlos is a song in itself.
Ariana's joy overflows when she goes riding bikes with him, and learns something new. Sharing her achievements with him make them even more special to her. When she is stuck in sadness, he can lift her out by helping her giggle and think of something else until she has the perspective to face the problem.
I think we've all heard of fathers who, for whatever reason, wound up blurring the view we have of God. I know that no earthly father is perfect, but I see the love that permeates the relationship between our children and Carlos, and know that they have a solid basis for trusting their heavenly Father and His love for them. What an amazing gift!
As they grow in age and faith, I hope they never lose the exuberance and confidence to throw themselves into God's arms. I hope that He will always be the one they seek before anyone else. I want them to always pour their hearts out to the One who rejoices over us with singing. With each new challenge, I want them to find strength and joy in Him. I hope that they can rest in Him when they are hurting, and be healed. I want them to grow closer each day to their Abba.
One of the best things in my life the last five years has been seeing our kids relate to Carlos. They love being with him.
Every morning, Elena looks for him as soon as she wakes up, and joyfully squeals "Dadada!" as soon as she sees him. She'll fearlessly launch herself towards him, knowing that he'll catch her. The trust and delight in their relationship is incredibly sweet.
Joel has taken to singing songs to Carlos on a regular basis, just because he loves pouring out his heart to his daddy. Last night, Joel fell asleep singing to him. They play games constantly, and his laughter with Carlos is a song in itself.
Ariana's joy overflows when she goes riding bikes with him, and learns something new. Sharing her achievements with him make them even more special to her. When she is stuck in sadness, he can lift her out by helping her giggle and think of something else until she has the perspective to face the problem.
I think we've all heard of fathers who, for whatever reason, wound up blurring the view we have of God. I know that no earthly father is perfect, but I see the love that permeates the relationship between our children and Carlos, and know that they have a solid basis for trusting their heavenly Father and His love for them. What an amazing gift!
As they grow in age and faith, I hope they never lose the exuberance and confidence to throw themselves into God's arms. I hope that He will always be the one they seek before anyone else. I want them to always pour their hearts out to the One who rejoices over us with singing. With each new challenge, I want them to find strength and joy in Him. I hope that they can rest in Him when they are hurting, and be healed. I want them to grow closer each day to their Abba.
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