Accepting the Invitation to Explore a Love Beyond Our Deepest Why
I tried to tell myself that I wasn’t being selfish… that I was really thinking of the kids. It was my empathy for them, not my own selfishness, that got me thinking about how many hours they’d been cooped up inside. It was my concern for their well being, not my own mental health, that caused me to grow weak when I considered that we were looking at three more days of rain. But I will be honest…. I am going crazy!!! We (and when I say “we,” I mean “they”) need to be outside, running and playing, swinging, blowing bubbles, chasing the neighbor’s dog, running and playing, riding in cars, swinging golf clubs, running and playing, feeding the horses, … did I mention running and playing?
So this morning, determined not to have another rainy-day-headache, we built a fort. Pillows, blankets, an extra large sheet, and a little rearranging were the perfect recipe for a morning of fun.
Jake and Lilly read Daddy every book they own. Then Lilly started gathering all of her stuffed animals, and dragging them into the fort. When it got crowded, Jake made a break for it! Everyone had a blast! I think Daddy even managed to sneak in a morning nap!
Motherhood has taken my world and flipped it on its side. I see everything now through a new pair of lenses. I can’t tell you how many times I heard, before I had kids of course, “Just wait until you have children. Then you’ll understand.” So much that was never on my radar before has now hit me right between the eyes.
Like, for example, the hitchhiker who now touches my heart because he is “Somebody’s Jake.” I don’t know him, but someone does. I can’t drive by any longer without wondering, “Does his Momma know where he is and where he’s headed?” And even if his Momma has no clue, God knows. God knows his story, because God made him…. in His image. And He loves him.
Or the child living in poverty on the other side of my world who may not get a meal today. It breaks my heart not only for the little girl with the empty belly, but I am torn over the helplessness her mother must feel, knowing that there is nothing she can do. I wonder, sometimes, how I would react if I knew Lilly needed something (even something as basic as food) and I could not provide for her. But I am reminded over and over that God knows that mother’s need. And He hears her prayer.
This morning I was looking up a passage in 2 Timothy that was referenced in another book I am reading. I skipped back up to the very beginning, just started reading, and there it was, staring right back at me, almost jumping off the page:
“I am reminded of your sincere faith, which first lived in your grandmother Lois and in your mother Eunice and, I am persuaded, now lives in you also.” 2 Timothy 1:5
I am sure that I have read this before, but never before have I let it really sink into my soul. In this letter that Paul is writing to Timothy, the very first thing he mentions is the “real or authentic” faith of Timothy’s mother and his grandmother, and the evidence of that faith being passed down to him. I believe that God wants to speak to us through His Word, and I received such an encouraging message in that one verse.
The message I heard was this:
A mother’s prayers for her children are so vital. God listens to a Momma’s prayers, and He is faithful. When I think about how much I love Jake and Lilly, and how I’d do anything for each of them, I am sometimes overwhelmed to think that God loves them even more than I am even capable of. And the most significant gift I can pass down to my children, and my grandchildren one day, is my faith. Faith that they can see… real faith, not the kind we just talk about. What an incredible responsibility and honor to be trusted with teaching my children to walk in His truth. And on those tough days, when as a mom I don’t even know what I need, God knows. And He hears my prayer, even before I speak it.
1. A few months ago she started this habit of taking all of the ABC blocks and moving them to her reading chair in the play room. It took her forever to diligently carry each block from its storage bin to her chair across the room, but she remained devoted until that last block was safe with the others. When all the blocks had successfully been moved, she abandoned them and started playing with something new.
2. Then it was books. She could not ever just take one book from the bookshelf in her room. She needed all thirty books, so she could effectively decide which one she should select for her bedtime story. She piled them up and toted them off to another spot in her room. Thank goodness, the “Only One Book at a Time” rule has stuck, and we no longer have to replace dozens of books each night before bed. When she wouldn’t nap, I reluctantly allowed her a few books in her bed so that she would settle down and have some quiet time even if she didn’t sleep. Every day, after she decides she is finished reading and ready to sleep (even if it’s only for 20 minutes), she gathers all of her books in a heap, then falls asleep laying on top of them, like a mother hen sitting on top of her eggs, waiting for them to hatch.
3. She has always been fascinated with stuffed animals. She can’t ever just cart around one. She needs all of them at the same time. She gets so frustrated when she can’t slide down the stairs while holding three of her “friends.” That’s what brought about the “Leave the Friends in the Bed” rule. We are still diligently trying to implement that one.
4. At Christmas, when Jake got a tool bench from Auntie Bri and Uncle Dave, Lilly drove me absolutely crazy taking every screw and nail from the tool bench and stuffing them into the microwave in their play kitchen. Every single morning, it was the first thing she did. One by one, she would take all of them from the place they belonged to a new and better place: the microwave. I would try to put them back and she would get so mad at me, so finally I decided that Jake’s tool bench needed to be moved to another room away from their kitchen. So far, she has not come up with a new home for Jake’s hardware since “The Relocation.”
5. Lilly loves when I fold clothes, which usually involves at least five loads of laundry. Small confession: I HATE doing laundry. It’s not the washing/drying part; it’s the folding. So I do the washing and the drying, (OK the machines in the laundry room do that part) and then five (or more) loads of laundry sit in the laundry room until I can’t stand looking at them anymore and decide to fold them. I share all of this to explain why there are always two laundry baskets present when folding occurs. Lilly is thrilled to take each piece of laundry from one basket and move it to the other basket. The only time this becomes a problem is when the article of clothing she decides to transport has already been folded!
6. Another favorite hobby of Lilly’s is coloring. When she sits down to create a beautiful piece of art, she is adamant about having every single crayon within her reach. Sometimes, she will scoot the pile of bright colors closer to her, just in case I decide to pick them up before she can save them. She does the same thing outside with chalk. She is not happy with one piece; she has to have every single one of them laid out in front of her. At least she hasn’t started hiding the chalk in the bushes… yet.
7. This week, she’s on to something new. For three days now, I’ve watched her gather every single piece of play food, from pizza to broccoli, and take it from the kitchen area to the little red wagon. I’ve posted plenty of stories about the little red wagon, so if you know my child, you know what’s coming next. After all the food had been dumped into the wagon, she then hopped in on top of the food. Now I’m not sure why she prefers to sit on hard, plastic food, but yesterday Jake pulled her all over the house as she sat perched on top of her stockpile of food.
Strange habit? Harmless quirk? Early signs of hoarding? I'm not sure. I have to admit I do see a pattern, but most of these instances can be categorized as merely "rearranging" or "gathering."
However, the following definition makes me a bit uneasy:
hoard- to accumulate for preservation, future use, etc., in a hidden or carefully guarded place
I'm still sticking with innocent quirkiness!
Happy Birthday, Daddy!
Dear Dad,
We won’t mention your age today, (because we know you already consider yourself old and it drives Mommy crazy since you’re not) but we just want to tell you how much you mean to us. We couldn’t figure out exactly how to tell you, so we made a list of all the things we appreciate:
Thank you for building towers with us and not getting mad when we knock them down.
Thank you for singing silly songs with us every night before bed.
(From Jake)Thank you for taking the day off from work to take us to the zoo even though I was cranky and screamed the entire time.
(From Lilly) Thank you for making room for me (and all my stuffed animals) to sit next to you on the couch.
Thank you for always making time for us when you get home from work.
Thank you for letting us help unload the dishwasher even though it takes twice as long.
Thank you for singing all the words and doing all the motions to our favorite song, “Elephants Have Wrinkles,” even though it gets stuck in your head for at least three days afterwards.
Thank you for taking us to the park and helping us down the slide.
(From Jake) Thank you for having patience with me when I refuse to eat my grilled cheese unless you cut it into tiny pieces and hand me a fork.
(From Lilly) Thank you for reading me book after book after book.
Thank you for letting us get you all wet when we splash in the tub at bath time.
Thank you for carrying around the two of us at the same time, even when Mom says we’re getting too big for that.
Thank you for pushing us in our swings while you are grilling dinner.
Thank you for telling us every night how much we are loved… by you, by Mommy, and most of all, by Jesus.
Thank you for being the best Dad in the whole wide world.
Love, Jake & Lilly
P.S.
Can we celebrate your birthday every month? We are having way too much fun with all these balloons! We’ll let you kick a few around when you get home from work, we promise!
Or a not-so-happy-face like this:
Or a profile of a favorite activity:
Or a reflection of a new discovery:
Or a look of wonder:
When I look at my kids, I want to see their faces. Their eyes tell all. Their smiles melt me. Their tears I wipe away. All of their emotion is worn on their faces.
Cody and I are planning a trip for our tenth anniversary in May. When I think about leaving Jake and Lilly for an entire week, the only thing that eases me is that I know that our modern technology will allow me to see their sweet faces even though I’ll be miles and miles away from them. It’s not the same as receiving a gentle yet slobbery kiss, but it will be enough to exchange smiles and blow kisses across the ocean.
Sometimes, my kids don’t want to look at my face. When I am disciplining them, it’s so important to me that they look at me. Jake, especially, hates to look in my eyes when we are having “a talk” after being in time-out. Sometimes, I have to hold his face and turn it to mine. It’s not so that I can control him; it’s so that he can see me, and what my face is communicating. I want him to know that it’s OK to mess up. That forgiveness comes afterwards. That he gets to start over. But so many times, he tries with everything in him to look away. Sometimes when I am holding his face, turning it to mine, he will close his eyes, determined not to look at me.
I realize that I can be as stubborn as Jake, turning my head away, even closing my eyes when God wants me to look at Him. I do this when I try to handle everything life throws at me all by myself. Sometimes, I look away when I don’t trust Him and I let doubt overwhelm me. Other times, it’s when I think I can hide something from Him. Most of the time, it’s because I’ve messed up royally and I am ashamed. But every single time, He holds my face in His hands and turns it to His and communicates His love, His grace, and His forgiveness. In those moments, I wonder why I ever looked away in the first place.
My Dad sent me a link to a radio sermon last week titled, Just Face It. It’s a study of Psalm 27, in which David writes about seeking God’s face with all of his heart. David, even though he messed up plenty of times, is called a man after God’s own heart. He understood what it meant to seek God and nothing else. He knew the beauty of looking into the face of God. I have a choice to seek God; to either look Him in the face and discover His beauty and His plan for my life, or close my eyes and look the other way.
This morning I came across another reference to this kind of face-to-face relationship. Exodus 33:11 says that “the Lord spoke to Moses face to face, just as a man speaks with his friend.” My close friends are those that I see in person and share face-to-face conversation with or, in some cases, share a heart-to-heart conversation with when face-to-face is not possible. Those are the friendships that take time and effort. They are friendships that have been developed over years and through all that life brings. They are the people who know “my stuff.” But God knows more than any friend could ever know, because He knows my heart. He sees everything, even the stuff I try to hide. Psalm 38:9 says, “All my longings lie open before you, Lord; my sighing is not hidden from you.”
Even when I look away, He still pursues me, desperately wanting “face time” with me. John 15:16 explains it better than I can: “You did not choose Me, but I chose you. I appointed you that you should go out and produce fruit and that your fruit should remain, so that whatever you ask the Father in my name, He will give you.” I may not have it all figured out, but I do know that the longer I spend getting to know Him and spending time in His presence, looking at His face, the more time with Him I crave. That’s the beauty of getting face to face with God.
My heart says of you, “Seek His face!” Your face, Lord, I will seek. Psalm 27:8
