Week's end with thanks

Sacred Mundane0
  • Nana-made capes for the kids. Dutch donning his with underwear and flying off the retaining wall. Priceless. 
  • Souls identifying with Christ. Buried low in water, lifted high in praise. Church family cheering, shouting, clapping. All praise to God.
  • Five dear pastors standing in the water, baptizing an entire family all at once. Knowing the love, tears, prayers these men share. Tears streaming down my cheeks. Grateful.
  • Grateful to be seated at His table.
  • Icy lemonade for sweaty kids.
  • Water beading cold on sippy cups.
  • Running through the field. Arms flapping.
  • Watching my man — so proud to be his.
  • Susan’s words.
  • Robben’s words.
  • Debra’s presence on a warm afternoon, watching pirate show and chomping apples, frozen blueberries, slices of cheese.
  • Reveling in God’s provision — before we even speak He knows our need.
  • Treat receipt.
  • Dutch’s interpretation the gospel: “I guess we’re all kind of scallywags, huh?” Love it.
  • First-ever I Belong Here class at WCC. So thankful to be a family member here. 
  • Not missing this. 
  • Participators.
  • Getaways.
  • Pirate paraphernalia. 
  • Six showings in six days and still standing!
  • Riversong Retreat.
  • Day of work.
  • Day of rest.
  • Treasures hunts.
  • Falling asleep to the sound of the river.
  • Revisions and provisions.
  • Remembering that Jesus wants the rose. 
  • My dear live-life friend Danielle who let us hang at her house during showings.
  • Taking the wrong car to DEQ. Opportunity to bow low.
  • Daddy day.
  • Eating snow peas right off the vine.
  • Pulling dinner up out of the earth.
  • Heidi’s surprise: A Dora t-shirt in the mail from her auntie Nikki. Heidi spinning around in circles, laughing out loud she was so happy.
  • Heidi wearing the Dora t-shirt to bed.
  • Heidi wearing the Dora t-shirt the next day.
  • Relieved when water spilled on the Dora t-shirt so I could finally take it off and wash it!
  • Heidi going through the clean laundry and finding … the Dora t-shirt. 🙂
  • Heidi sitting with me silent through church. The only sound: her toots.
  • Kissing her open, laughing mouth.
  • Delayed gratification.
  • Papa & Oma.
  • Pam’s amazing story of God’s provision. God loves us SO much.
  • Sacred Mundane coming along!
  • Wearing Dad’s sweatshirts. What I always do when I’m here.
  • Lasagna and chocolate cookies. The things I get to eat when I am here. 🙂
  • Tough Boris.
  • Susan Crozier.
  • Our dear Compassion boy, Fiston, almost 18! What a godly young man he’s become and what a joy he’s been in our life!
  • Heidi’s prayers.
  • Selena’s face.
  • Sarah’s hug.
  • Kimmee’s voice.
  • That God is always previous.
  • Still underlining Ann’s One Thousand Gifts.
  • Still listing out mine.
  • This place that holds me accountable.
  • You, who bless my life.
  • Those who pray, cheer, encourage.
  • Life: a grace-gift.
  • Santa Clara Candi’s Jesus-trust. No one else like her and I miss her so much. But even the missing is a gift and I can see Jesus on her from afar.
  • Looking close at the moments each day: He’s here! He’s here! He’s here.
  • Sound of Heidi stirring.
  • Inhaling her sweaty-sleep smell.
  • Breathing deep all the moments of the day.
  • Finishing work.
  • His finished work.
  • JOY.

F is for Failure, a healthy dose

Devotional Thoughts, My name is Mommy, Sacred Mundane0

“It’s not smart to stuff yourself with sweets,
nor is glory piled on glory good for you.”

Proverbs 25:27, The Message

“Can I talk to you about Dutch?”

Our children’s pastor pulled me aside and as she spoke my eyes spilled with tears — the joyous kind — as she related and confirmed what I’d already been witnessing in my dear boy. He’s doing so well! Her encouraging words, which I knew to be true, made this mama weep tears of joy. Mind you, he’s still a crazy-imagination-strong-willed-4-year-old and sometimes I still want to throw him out the window, but truly, my boy has changed so much in these past few months it makes my  heart soar. The bottom line? Finally seeing the fruit of consistency and the grace of God.  And yes I will take a moment’s liberty to share my little victories because I have certainly spent enough time sharing my little woes here in this space.

Just moments before I’d been talking to an elder and his wife about the exact same thing. They were rejoicing with me and, as I knew they were faithful pray-ers for us, I thanked them for their love and support. The husband laughed, “It’s so good for someone like you to have a boy like Dutch because if your kids were perfect you’d write a book about it!”

Ha!  He’s right, I’m afraid.  I’m sure if they were little compliant angels my head wouldn’t fit through the door and I’d be dishing out advice  so fast ya’ll ‘d be sick to your stomachs.

The truth is, he’s right — it’s good for me. As I wrote a year ago, reflecting on Beth Moore’s teaching:

 It is actually not good for us to succeed all the time.  Nor is it good for our children to always succeed.  Some failures are healthy. Some humiliation, excellent, because it humbles us, and humility always leads to more intimacy with God.  If we only had success and glory all the time, we wouldn’t have the character God desires.  Beth Moore shares a story of how God rebuked/humbled her once and how on the spot she stood there and praised Jesus for His graciousness to her, humbling her.  I was so amazed by that. I HATE being humiliated. But what if we embraced it? What if we saw it as an awesome way to be drawn closer to the Father?  How cool would that be?!

As Proverbs 25:27 says, just as stuffing ourselves with sweets isn’t good for us, nor is it good for us to have glory piled upon glory.

Of course some of us still like to stuff ourselves with sweets.

Perhaps that’s the problem.  We also wouldn’t mind a life of endless glory.

But oh, isn’t it true? Isn’t it so good for us: The scars, the trips, the toilet paper stuck to our shoe?

I know that I have countless more embarrassing and humbling experiences ahead. (For the record, there are few things more humbling than attempting to write a book!) But praise be to God that we can look back and actually thank God for His grace, humbling us and giving us a healthy dose of failure.

He’s never mean; it’s always for our good.

If He takes us down a notch it’s just that much easier to bow low and worship.

{What humbling experiences are you thankful for today? How have they brought you low and enabled you to bow low in worship? From my knees, thanks, dear friend, for reading.}

What you don't want to miss

My name is Mommy4 Comments0

It’s early but feels late. (Is 6pm too soon to put kids to bed?)

Jeff is gone tonight and tomorrow night. I had a meeting last night. We’ve had four showings four days in a row. Today’s house showing gave me 15 minutes notice.  I’m tired.

I finish the dishes of the big salmon dinner Jeff didn’t get to eat. Resist the urge to medicate with chocolate. “Ok, bath time, pick up your toys!” Kids scurry, pick up toys. Begin to head upstairs. I look around. These kids must be half blind. Call them back down to get the rest.

Dutch looks around, bewildered. “What other toys?”

Is it a boy thing?

We finish. Head up. An issue of delayed obedience (which is disobedience) demands attention. There are tears. They are tired too.  Bodies are cleaned but washing hair is a war. Little bodies, slippery like fish, are wrapped in towels. I notice the smell. Glance over at the laundry basket. It towers, taunting me. Tomorrow, I tell myself.

They’re just getting settled when it hits — the ravenous bedtime hunger. “May I please have something to eat?” Which from Heidi’s mouth sounds like, “May I peese ‘ave froggy to eat?”  For some reason “something” always sounds like “froggy.”  I remember their non-existent appetite at dinner when salmon was served. Suddenly that appetite has returned with a vengeance. After banana, cheese, and a baggie of tomatoes, they ask for more but I draw the line. I kiss them both and turn toward the door.

Out the door, in the hall, I exhale the sigh of relief, but stop in the hall. My room, the bed, the computer, the escape, it calls. Beckons. Lures. Come, be DONE. DONE. DONE.

I haven’t prayed with them. I haven’t told them how much God loves them. I’ve cared for their bodies but neglected their souls. My flesh is so weak the truth is I just want to close my bedroom door and be done.

I turn around and enter in.

I kneel, curl up beside Dutch and lean in close to his puppy-breath, kiss his cheeks. I pray God’s goodness and favor and blessing and grace over his life, then tell him how much God loves him and I do too.

“Mommy, I love you so much.”

I almost missed this.

Head into Heidi’s room. She’s already heavy-eyed and sucking her thumb, curls spilled over her pillow. I pray. Tell her as well how much God loves her and I do too.

“Mommy I yuv you.”

How could I have considered missing this?

I slide under my covers. Write this. Read a precious email from another tired mom. Close the laptop lid and snuggle down into darkened silent bliss. Close my eyes, yes.

“Mommy!! May I please have more cheese?!”

—

{Happy mid-week, and thanks for reading.}