New Year's Grace

It's time to think about New Year's resolutions again.

Augh.

I stopped making resolutions a long time ago because I always failed at keeping them. Read the Bible in a year? Nope. Stop yelling at the kids? Nope.

And marking off the days on the calendar was only like a noose around my neck, getting tighter with every day I failed. How many of us actually make it through January without breaking one or all of our resolutions?

I'm an all-or-nothing kind of person. If I can't do it well, I'd rather not do it at all. Recently I had a conversation with a friend about feeling like we can give only 20% of ourselves to our teaching right now. We'd like to give more, but we just can't, which makes us feel like we are doing our students (in my case, my children) a disservice. And it drives us crazy because we are both people who want to give 100%!

Later that night, I replayed the conversation in my mind and realized that I've changed over the years. The younger me would feel guilty, discouraged, and depressed and call myself a 'failure'. If I've learned anything in my 11 years of being a parent, it's this:

give yourself grace.

Don't compare yourself to others. Accept your limitations. Life happens. I'd love to help out more at church or have guests over more often, but with a three-month-old and a toddler, it's difficult right now. And that's okay.

And I will add this. Though I can only give 20% of myself to my teaching, I am giving all of that 20%. I am still committed to being there everyday, helping my children learn, even if the learning is mostly from a book and not from outings and activities. If the clock says 9am and we're still finishing up breakfast when we should be starting school, we will still attempt to cover all our subjects that day.

As wise as Jedi Master Yoda may be, he wasn't entirely correct when he said, "Do or do not, there is no try." Because sometimes, you have to try in order to eventually do (I tell my kids this all the time). And if something is worth doing, it's worth the effort.

So, I'm going to try again. My New Year's resolution is to read the Bible everyday, starting from the first chapter of the first book. If I miss a day, that's okay. If I don't read the whole Bible in 365 days, that's okay too. And I'm not even starting on January 1st; I started three days ago. Because it's not about doing it the "right" way, or about beating myself up when I fail. I am a child of grace and growing in small increments is better than not growing at all. 

Whether or not you have resolutions for 2015, let this year be your year of grace.

Ordinary Night

A simple maid, a simple man
A simple life, a simple plan
Interrupted by something grand
The baby Jesus

An angel shared his simple news, 
The Savior born in a simple room
Shepherds went to find it true
The baby Jesus

On what seemed to be an ordinary night
They beheld an extraordinary sight
Only those of simple faith
Will recognize the simple babe

He could have come in a mighty storm
Charging in with heaven's force
But he was simply and modestly born
The baby Jesus

A simple star to light the way
The magi saw, the magi came
Simply kneeling to acclaim
The baby Jesus

On what seemed to be an extraordinary night
They beheld an extraordinary sight
Only those of simple faith
Will recognize the simple babe

On what seems to be an ordinary night
We behold an extraordinary sight
Discard all but simple faith
To recognize the simple babe
Kneel before the baby Jesus.

"What do you want?"

Yesterday we did our Christmas tradition of handing out homemade treats to our neighbors. Sad to say, we've lived in this neighborhood for four years and we still don't know all our nearest neighbors. Part of the problem is that our neighbors don't seem to be home very much. Two years ago, we went caroling and only two doors were opened to us. The other houses were dark. The other problem is that I'm too shy to just go up to people and introduce myself. It's much easier to look busy when a neighbor walks by than to engage in conversation.

But this year, I've been feeling to need to reach out more to my neighbors. The Holy Spirit has been prompting me to invite them in to share a meal with our family. Handing out Christmas goodies was the first step in getting to know some neighbors, and guess what? every door we knocked on was opened to us!

Besides the names of two lovely couples (one older, one younger), I learned something else: people are not as trusting these days. Some people opened the door cautiously, expecting us to be selling something. One man even asked, "What do you want?" The idea of a real free gift is foreign to many, and the thought of trusting someone other than yourself is ludicrous and naive.

No wonder people have a hard time trusting an unseeable God and receiving His gift of grace! Just as the change of culture from monarchy to democracy affects how people view God as king, the change of modern culture from community to isolation affects people's willingness to interact with a relational God.

But I cannot give up hope. God can change any heart. Like the third verse of 'O Little Town of Bethlehem' says:

How silently, how silently, the wondrous gift is given!

So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of His Heaven.

No ear may hear His coming, but in this world of sin,

Where meek souls will receive Him still, the dear Christ enters in.

One day, my neighbors will hear a knock and answer the door with a suspicious "What do you want?" only to find that the person knocking is Jesus, and the only thing He wants is to offer His love. And I pray that my neighbor will decide to invite Jesus in!

Babe in My Arms

I'm sitting by the Christmas tree, watching the sleeping child in my arms. Breathe in… breathe out… breathe in… breathe out… He smiles joyfully, fleetingly, in response to a dream. His dark eyelashes flutter a little, then he is quiet again.

The wonder of my son still hangs over me like a warm, luscious summer day that mellows into a cool, refreshing evening. And it makes the wonder of Christmas so much more tangible...

that the unfathomable being of God can be as close and as warm as the baby I hold.

that the unseeable face of God is as near and familiar as my baby's breath and smile.

that the hands that hold the universe together at one time gripped Mary's pinky like my son is gripping mine.

The unimaginable is still unimaginable to me, except that it happened, and it is as real as the babe in my arms.

Anticipating….

Each year, with the approach of Christmas, I find myself fighting a case of the "Scroogeys". 

Why can't I enjoy Christmas like I did when I was young? I wonder.

This year, I promised myself that I wouldn't even go there. I would be intentional about what I choose to do with my time and not allow holiday obligations to bog me down. But it was only after reading a blog post by my husband that I was able to put my finger on the cause of my Scroogey-ness: 

The anticipation is gone.

I'm the one wrapping the presents. Baking the cookies. Cooking the meals. Planning the outings. While my kids are excited about eating the cookies. Playing with the gifts. Drinking the eggnog. Sleeping under the Christmas tree. 

But this year, there was one thing I had to wait for, just like my kids. Because we don't have Netflix or cable, we had to borrow "A Charlie Brown Christmas" from the library. I was nearly giddy as we gathered around our television set to watch it. It brought back childhood memories of waiting all year long for the special to come on television.

My husband took note of this and used it as a springboard for a letter to parents.

Last night my family sat down to watch… he begins.

He goes on to discuss how the perks of being an adult can actually take away the joy of Christmas, because the anticipation that a child experiences due to his/her lack of control is what makes the time so special. But there is  something that adults can anticipate, if we only remember. And it's something far more significant than opening presents and drinking eggnog.

The Jews were unable to know exactly when [the Messiah] would come and they were powerless to hasten God's timing. Through the prophets, Yahweh gave some clues about the Son of David, but with each successive captivity or conquest, God's people held on to the growing anticipation of a coming rescuer… In a post-incarnation universe, we can rejoice that we still have an unfulfilled expectation: the return of Christ in majesty…

My husband finishes by encouraging us to truly live with that sense of anticipation.  

How can "the things of this world grow strangely dim" if we become satisfied with our ability to create and shape our own, individual experience? How can we "store up treasures in heaven" when our capacity for self-fulfillment is unimpeded by a world-system that is more than happy to cater to us?

Let's cultivate (and teach our kids) the discipline of Anticipation. As a family, discuss some things you can do differently to learn how to treasure what we receive from God.

So I leave you with that today. If you are fighting the "Scroogeys" yourself, meditate on the anticipation of Christ. Remove obstacles that keep you from experiencing that joy (clear your schedule, take a break from technology, or volunteer somewhere). Reevaluate your level of dependency on God and your gratefulness to Him for all He's given you. 

(And if you would like to read the full article written by my husband, click on this link:
Cultivating Anticipation)

Christmas Quotes

We can never hope to capture the Christmas spirit and make it our own unless we understand that God is so much greater than we ever thought He was. We thought we knew all about God. The incarnation proved us wrong. ~Dan Schaeffer

If we could condense all the truths of Christmas into only three words, these would be the words: 'God with us.' We tend to focus our attention at Christmas on the infancy of Christ. The greater truth of the holiday is His deity. More astonishing than a baby in the manger is the truth that this promised baby is the omnipotent Creator of the heavens and the earth! ~John MacArthur

The giving of gifts is not something man invented. God started the giving spree when he gave a gift beyond words, the unspeakable gift of His Son. ~Robert Flatt

For God so loved the world that He GAVE His only Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have eternal life. ~John 3:16

Our Christmas Traditions

Now that Thanksgiving is past, it is time to get ready for Christmas!

Part of the magic of Christmas is having family traditions. You might "inherit" traditions from your own parents, or, if you're like me, you might start your own because you didn't have any growing up. Either way, having something that you do together only once a year binds your family together, builds memories, and can also be a teaching moment!

Twenty-four days of socks!

One tradition we have done for the past six years is our advent socks. On a long string, I hang twenty-four Christmas-y socks (twelve pairs). In them, I put scripture passages that narrate the Christmas story, along with an ornament to match the verse. Because I have only twelve ornaments, I alternate the verses with Christmas carols that relate to the verse of the previous day. I also put in little treats or gifts. Every morning, starting on December 1st, we take down a sock, read the verses inside, and hang up the ornament, or sing a 

Christmas carol and enjoy a treat. There are many variations of this stocking idea that you can do. A friend of mine found verses that described a name of Jesus (the Word, the Light of the World, the Bread of Life...) which then became a clue to where a treat is hidden in the house. For example, if the clue was 'Light of the World', the prize was by a light switch or a lamp. At the end of this entry I have listed verses that you can use, if you choose to try this idea this year. 

Our second tradition involves wrapping Christmas picture books, twenty-four of them. Some I own, and some come from the library. I start by wrapping four to six books and placing them under the Christmas tree, and every night, starting on December 1st, a child chooses a book to unwrap and read together. What makes this fun is the surprise of unwrapping the book, the pleasure of reading a book that is a known favorite, discovering new favorites along the way,  and, for mom and dad, not having to listen to the kids ask, "Can we open a present early? Just a peek?" My method is to wrap only a few books at a time (library books always go first), then reuse the old paper to wrap a new book for the following night. (For a list of our favorite Christmas stories, go to my more recent post: Our Favorite Christmas Stories.)

This year, I'm thinking of adding a new tradition. I read about the Kindness Elves (an alternative to the new 'Elf on the Shelf' craze) and thought it was a wonderful way to teach selflessness during the holiday season! Simply hide an elf in the house, along with a note suggesting things "Let's make cookies for our neighbors" or "Help your sister with a task today." Everyday, the elf can give a new suggestion! (Click on the link above for more wonderful ideas.) I don't know if I can juggle this this year with the new baby (besides the fact that I don't have an elf), but maybe if I prepare earlier, I can do this next year.

So those our family's Christmas traditions. What are yours? Please share them with me!

The Names of Jesus-

John 1:1-2~ the Word

John 6:35~ the Bread of Life

John 10:7-10~ the Gate

John 10:14-16~ the Good Shepherd

John 1:29~ the Lamb of God

John 11:25-26~ the Life

John 15:1-8~ the Vine

John 8:12~ the Light of the World

Christmas Story Passages with Corresponding Ornaments and Carols-

(remember that these are only a suggestion, change them to suit your needs or preferences)

Days 1-2) Luke 1:26-38~ Mary, O Come O Come Emmanuel

Days 3-4) Matt 1:18-25~ Joseph, Silent Night

Days 5-6) Luke 2:1-6~ donkey, O Little Town of Bethlehem

Days 7-8) Luke 2:7~ Jesus, Away in the Manger

Days 9-10) Luke 2:8-9~ shepherds, The First Noel

Days 11-12) Luke 2:10-14~ angels, Angels We Have Heard on High

Days 13-14) Luke 2:15-20~ sheep, Go Tell it on the Mountain

Days 15-16) Matt 2:1-6~ Magi, We Three Kings

Days 17-18) Matt 2:7-10~ Magi, O Come All Ye Faithful

Days 19-20) Matt 2:11-12~ Magi, God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen

Days 21-22) Matt 2:13-23~ camel, What Child is This

Days 23-24) John 3:16~ world or dove, Joy to the World

Happy Thanksgiving

To give thanks is to be humble.

It is knowing that you did not do this on your own.

It is to give credit where credit is due.

I am thankful for my writing and musical abilities. Though they've been cultivated over the years, they were also in me from the beginning. I am still amazed at what comes out of my mind sometimes– thoughts from the Creator being communicated through me.

I am thankful for my body. I didn't know about lymph vessels until recently, but I am SO glad they were working in me despite my lack of knowledge. I am thankful for every cell in my body working together to run, to breathe, to think, to form babies.

I am thankful for my husband and six children. They are gifts to me that I do not deserve.

To everyone in the United States, have a blessed Thanksgiving!

To everyone around the world, make your own Thanksgiving today! Take time to give credit where credit is due.

The Body United

Last night, several high schoolers from our church hosted a multi-church worship night. They called it 'Unite'. My husband was asked to be the pastor-in-charge, to which he gladly agreed, because though we don't often attend events like this, we love to support them when we can.

By the time I arrived at the church, the sanctuary was full of teenagers and some adults. The room buzzed with conversation. Loud music thumped through the speakers. I settled in some chairs with my six children and observed the scene.

It's funny how quickly one falls back into old patterns. Even as a thirty-six-year old mom, I felt like a young outsider once again. I was never as pretty as "those" girls. I never had money for "nice" clothes. I was always aloof, on the fringe, not really part of any one group. If I had gone to an event like this as a high schooler, I probably would have hid in a shadow and watched.

But just as quickly, I took hold of these thoughts and held them captive. The youth last night were energetic, passionate, caring. They played a game and eagerly mixed, mingled, and met new people. This was what I needed in high school: a place of acceptance, where boundaries of ethnicity and cliques and social class were torn down. This, I told myself, this is the Body of Christ. And it was beautiful. I wouldn't have felt so alone in my faith if I had had a group like this in my teenage years.

So I pushed away my old fears and joined in the game. A boy was scampering about, trying to find a partner, and I offered myself. The goal was to find something in common with your new friend. He was an eighth-grader; I was well beyond school. He was Korean; me, Chinese. "I play the piano," I suggested. "Me too!" he said. And there, we had our commonality.

While the youth stood and sang in worship, my thoughts wandered back to being the 'girl on the fringe'. How many here are like me? I wondered. I had noticed a girl coming in late with a violin and binder. She stood in the back of the crowd. Another girl sat with her head bowed, not singing. Either she was bored or burdened. I wish I had the time to find out. But with six kids hovering about me (and two taking turns grabbing my legs), it was hard to be conversational. And I had to leave before the event ended, but not before I prayed for those girls, and others who felt like outsiders.

The only thing I would like to change about last night is how all the adults (drivers, youth leaders, parents) stayed in the rear of the room. Yes, this was a youth-run event, but worship is worship, right? This is the Body of Christ, and if we still allow age to divide us, then the Body is not yet whole. But how to change this? Any thoughts?

Simple Pleasures

Give me the endless pastures

And lazy rolling hills

Give me the dreamy clouds above

In a blue so vast and still

Give me the trees' cool shadows

A stained glass room made of leaves

Give me the flowers' dances

A joyous waltz in the breeze

Give me the birds' sweet voices

Their chorus filling the skies

Give me the stars and fireflies

Their light filling my eyes

Give me your hand to hold

And your heart close to my own

Thank God for simple pleasures

His love and mercy made known

All that I have is borrowed

I can't call them my own

Thank God for simple pleasures

His love and mercy made known

Courage for Parents

You are a parent.

Whether it was part of your life plan or not, you are a parent now.

And whether you are alone in this, or have the most amazing partner in the world, you are a Mom. Or a Dad.

And that takes courage.

It takes courage because parenting is hard. There are the usual expectations: sleepless nights; crying during road trips; talking back. Then there are the un-expectations: Losing yourself, only to rediscover a new sense of self; the worry, the pain, the fear, the overwhelming love; having that someone you love break your heart.

Yes, at some point, to some degree, every parent's heart is broken by their child.

It takes courage because you don't get to choose the person who crashes into your life. Your child is autistic, diabetic, a picky eater, strong-willed, deaf– you get what you get, and you're in for the long haul.

That is, if you ARE in for the long haul.

And I hope you are.

If you are dis-couraged, dig deep and find your courage again. Courage is not charging in with confidence; courage is stepping in despite your fear. This is all new territory. No one has ever parented your child before. You are the only one. So be en-couraged.

Day by day. Minute by minute.

Don't give up. You can do it.

Have courage.

Be strong and courageous… for it is the Lord your God who goes with you. He will not leave you or forsake you. ~Deuteronomy 31:6

An Unexpected Gift

As I think more about Operation Christmas Child, I recall a memory from days long past. Let me take you back to Christmas 1984…

Rita was learning much about her new home: English words, American schools, fireflies and snow– life in suburban Illinois had little in common with life in Hong Kong. But despite the difficulties, she was getting by. First-grade was okay, though making friends was hard…

One day, an unexpected visitor knocked on the apartment door. A girl was there, older than Rita, dressed in a uniform of some sort. She called herself a Girl Scout, and she offered Rita and her sister a gift, in celebration of Christmas. Rita's family had always celebrated Christmas with her church in Hong Kong, but Christmas gifts were new to her. Rita did not understand why this stranger would give her a present, but she was happy to receive it. Inside the gift was a pony, a comb with her name on it, and several other fun items. To this day, she has that pony, and she will always remember that year when she received her first Christmas gift…

And yes, I still have the My Little Pony I received that snowy day. If that gift made such an impression on my six-year-old mind, can you imagine what a shoebox of presents would mean to a boy or girl in an impoverished or disaster-stricken country? 

Again, if you are not familiar with Operation Christmas Child, click on the link to find out more!

Operation Christmas Child

Boxes of Hope

(photo courtesy of Samaritan's Purse)

When I received the shoe box, I was reminded of God's love for me and the hope that I had in Him. I hope and I pray that will be the case for these kids, that whatever they're going through in their lives, they can be reminded that someone out there loves them. But the most important thing of all is that Jesus Christ loves them and cares about them. ~ Alex Nsengimana

After surviving the 1994 genocide in Rwanda, Alex lived at an orphanage, which was where he received his Christmas shoebox. And as simple as a shoebox filled with toys may seem to us, to children like Alex it is a symbol of hope and love. Alex went on the graduate from Bible college in Minnesota and return to his orphanage in Rwanda to help hand out shoeboxes and share with the children the hope and love he knew– and it all started with one shoebox.

I love hearing stories like Alex's. I love seeing photos of the children receiving their boxes, and I always scan the pictures for a recognizable box. Even if I don't find one (and I never do), I picture in my mind my box in the hands of one of the beautiful children of Rwanda, or the Philippines, or Mongolia. Then I pray specifically for that child, that my gift will go beyond the toys and pencils and toothpaste.

And now, it's time again to prepare boxes for Operation Christmas Child! I have been filling shoeboxes for this ministry since I was a teenager, and every year now, I take my children to the store and allow them to pick out items for a child. We search through the toys, the school supplies, and the hygiene items for the perfect gifts. Some of my children chose to use their own money this year to purchase the items, which makes me so proud! All together, we have six shoeboxes packed and ready to go!

If you are not familiar with Operation Christmas Child, it is a ministry of Samaritan's Purse. Guidelines, instructions, and videos are all available at this link: 

Operation Christmas Child

The deadline is November 24th, so hurry! Give a child a present he or she will never forget!

A Masterpiece

Today, my baby is six weeks old. Some parents never get to hold their baby at this age. I thank God that I do.

Despite the busyness of my day, I find myself stopping to revel in this little person. Of course, there's the cuteness factor, but it's so much more than that. It is knowing that I somehow participated in bringing forth this brand new person into the world, that without me, he wouldn't be here. But at the same time, saying that I helped in the creation of this masterpiece is like saying that I helped paint the Sistine Chapel when all I really did was clean the brushes.

For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them. ~Ephesians 2:10

My children are works of art. They are walking, breathing, talking masterpieces, one-of-a-kind creations of an amazing Artist. And so am I, as are you. Remember that as you go about your day today.

You are a masterpiece!

Seize the Day?!?!

Carpe diem!

Those could have been my words once upon a time, back when I was younger, freer, and– haha– more energetic.

And now, are you kidding me?! I can hardly force myself out of bed in the morning, and you want me to lasso the day, rein it in, and wrestle it to the ground?! Even as I type the title for this entry, the words taunt me. The only thing I seize regularly is the hand of my toddler as we cross a busy parking lot. And the only thing I wish I could seize is five minutes to myself so I could use the bathroom in peace.

But if today was really, truly, my last day on earth, would I regret spending it at home with my children?

The answer to that question, I realize, is a very certain 'No'.

All too often, I compare my life with others. I envy those who have the opportunity to travel or who have published works. I feel that my life is boring and unexciting, and that others see me as one who chose to trade in a life of passion for one of fear, complacency, and routine. 

But there is no comparison. Though my life is no Hollywood movie, there is no lack of passion in what I do. I am not 'seizing the day' by going on grand adventures, but I am choosing this: 

to boldly live a quiet life. 

While I may never publish my book, I may never visit Australia and pet a live koala, and I may not have anything interesting, witty, or funny to say at the end of the day, I AM seizing the moments that God is giving me: lovingly changing a diaper, meditating on a Bible verse, encouraging a stranger, choosing NOT to yell at my children, doing something for my spouse that requires sacrifice on my part.

And if I die tomorrow, may those who know me best say this, that Rita took advantage of every moment, that she loved her Lord with all her heart, her mind, her soul, and her strength, and that she served her family and friends with passion.

6 Things Having 6 Kids Has Taught Me

Most people think my life must be crazy. Or I must be crazy. Why would I choose to have six kids otherwise? Noise, mayhem, the never-ending demands– if I'm not crazy, then I must be Superwoman.

I never pictured myself as a mother of six. Like most everyone else, I had to learn the basics of childcare and parenting when my first child was born. But then, with each child who entered my life, I discovered that there was still more I had to learn, though the lessons, surprisingly, were not what I would have imagined them to be. Raising six children has taught me more than patience and efficiency. It has taught me…

1) how to ask for help.
I have always been an independent person. I wanted to do everything myself, and I didn't think I needed to change, even when I found myself with a baby attached to my breast or a toddler attached to my leg. But as the number of children I had increased while the number of hands I owned stayed the same, I became more and more frustrated. I needed more hands! And more hands came, in the form of friends, family, my husband, and even my children now. All I have to do is ask!

2) how to rest.
As I said, I used to try to do everything. Before having children, it never bothered me to go from event to event, task to task. I soon discovered that with children, this kind of living wears out both the children and the parent. Now, when someone asks me or invites me to do something, I say "no" if I need to (without feeling guilty). We have quiet time in the middle of the day, so the younger ones and I can nap. Every Sunday after church, the family has mandatory rest time (which means lying down without books or anything). After a string of busy days, we take a day or two to stay home. I remember God's commandment to honor the Sabbath, and one way of doing so is by resting.

3) how to clean.
Messes never bothered me until now! I used to tell myself, "It's not that bad. Do it later," and so procrastinated on cleaning until company was coming over. That changed when I noticed how quickly the bathroom got dirty after a day. Books that I just put away are scattered across the floor… again. Toys that are left out become a hazard and clutter up precious little living space. My house is far from spotless, but I don't procrastinate anymore when it comes to cleaning! Keeping messes to a minimum helps me keep my life organized and makes this busy home more enjoyable for everyone.

4) how to communicate.
Sometimes I think my words are clear, then wonder why my child is not doing what I asked! Eye contact and well-defined instructions (or consequences) are crucial if we are all to survive living together. Also, to go beyond 'survival', I have learned how to speak with love and grace and directness when heart issues need to be addressed. And sometimes, the one with the issues is me. "I'm sorry" and "Do you forgive me?" are well-practiced in our home.

5) how to hug.
I didn't grow up with hugs. Hugging is still not my natural inclination. I consciously tell myself to hug my children, and happily receive their hugs in return!

6) how to appreciate the little things.
Ten minutes of quiet.
A roly-poly.
A short but deep conversation with a friend.
My husband washing the dishes.
Taking a walk with my family.
A clean room.
Food on the table.
A good night's sleep.
"I love you."

Having six children can be chaotic at times, but the benefits, visible and invisible, far outweigh the work and stress. Though the lessons may not be easy,  I am looking forward to all that God wants to teach me through my kids!

Rediscovering Faith and Contentment

Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen. ~Hebrews 11:1

The initial giddiness of having a new baby has been replaced by the weariness of taking care of six children plus one adult. All last week, I was critical, short-tempered, and downright grumpy around my children and husband.

Baby blues? I wondered. But I never had postpartum depression before.

Which didn't mean that I couldn't have it with my sixth child, but it wasn't baby blues at all. It was, at the heart of it, discontentment.

I was just savoring my freedom with a toddler out of diapers. I was writing more, performing more, mentoring more… doing all the things that I've always wanted to do but couldn't because I've been busy with babies for the past ten years or so.

And now, I'm back to the start. Back to nursing, schedules, diaper bags, and nighttime feedings. And there was some envy in me as I listened to my husband talk about his work and the upcoming staff retreat. I watched him as he answered phone calls and text messages from people wanting his biblical advice, and as he left to meet someone at a coffee shop to give encouragement and care. I felt stuck, useless, overlooked.

This morning's sermon was from Hebrews. It was about waiting for God, even when nothing seems to be on the horizon. Abraham, Jacob, Joseph… just to name a few– they had faith. They believed despite the fact that they could not see. God's promise was enough.

And so it must be for me, if I call myself a woman of faith. Though I cannot see why God wants me to devote my talents and energy to raising six children rather than to be a missionary or worship leader, I need to trust that He has a plan for me and my children. Though I'd rather raise my hand and be the first to volunteer, I need to trust that now is not the time; later will be better. Though I think I am ready to take on so much, I need to trust that God is shaping me for something more. There is much that I can grow in.

My husband left for the staff retreat today. I took all six children with me to Costco (a giant warehouse store) to restock our refrigerator. It was my first time doing so, and I was surprised to find myself calmly maneuvering through the crowds, joking with my children, joyfully going through this task with them. 

Be thou my vision, O Lord of my heart… we sang this morning as our closing song.

It is not always easy to have a vision for the things unseen. But that is contentment– living with the knowledge that God's promises will be fulfilled, and in the meantime, finding delight in the waiting.

On 'Meekness'

Another meaningful post from 2012

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I started this post a year ago. Then last April, I started it again. And now, here I am, trying for a third time. As you can guess, meekness is not my strong point.

But this time, I am determined to finish this post, because I am always reminded that Jesus is described as being meek. But when I tried to find where the word 'meek' is used in the context of Jesus, I could not find it in my Bible! The King James version still uses it (see Matthew 11:28-29), but many translations have chosen a different word (like gentle or humble) because of the modern definition of 'meek'. 

So, curious, I looked up 'meek' in my Webster's dictionary. Here is its definition:

Enduring injury with patience and without resentment,

deficient in spirit and courage, submissive, not violent or strong

And the online dictionary defined 'meek' as 

to be humbly patient or docile, overly submissive or compliant, or spiritless

Hmmm, that doesn't sound like the man who calmed storms, rebuked pharisees, and overturned tables.

Then I did some research to try to find the original Greek word for 'meek' as used in the Bible. This is what I found online:

praus- used to describe a soothing medicine, used by sailors to 

describe a gentle breeze, used by farmers to describe a broken colt

The idea, all in all, is that meekness means 'strength under control', and that the one word we have in the English language, 'meek', doesn't capture that idea.

So the picture that some people have of Jesus being spineless and weak is very wrong, and if I was to model myself after that Jesus, that also would be very wrong. Jesus, though He controls all of heaven and earth, put aside his power and glory, as described in one of my favorite Bible passages,  Philippians 2:6-8.

Who, being in very nature God, did not consider equality with God 

something to be used to his own advantage;

rather, he made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant,

being made in human likeness.

And being found in appearance as a man,

he humbled himself by becoming obedient to death-- 

even death on a cross!

And what does that mean for me?

It means putting aside my desires and taming my natural tendencies. Though I can be a strong personality, I don't need to assert it to prove myself. Back in my college days, I was ready to go out into the world and wrestle life to the ground. I was certain that I could have anything I wanted, when I wanted it. But I was also self-centered and ambitious to a fault. It was my will, not God's will, that I was seeking.

Now I am constantly challenged and humbled by motherhood. I spend the bulk of my days serving children from ages one to nine, cleaning up dirty diapers, dirty dishes, and messes I didn't make. I can't have sleep, or five minutes to myself, when I want it. And I know that I don't have all the answers. But when I feel that wild horse spirit in me rearing to break free, I remind myself, choose to be meek. Choose to be the servant when I would rather not cook. Choose to be patient with the child who is screaming in anger at me. Choose to reach out in forgiveness and love. Choose to be like Jesus.

Grace

A cold is making its way through our family. Thankfully, my two-week-old and I are still healthy. This old post from August 2012 spoke to me today. May it speak to your heart too.

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I haven't written for a week because the baby's been sick. Early last Tuesday, she woke with a high fever that lasted for three days. Then, she broke out in red splotches all over her body. Roseola, or three-day measles, is what she had. So for a week, I had a crying baby and little sleep. Worse than the fatigue was seeing my smiling, joyful baby cry and lose interest in eating and playing. I am happy to say today that she is almost back to her normal self.

During the seemingly long hours of holding my baby, I pondered what lesson could be learned from all of this. It wasn't until yesterday that I knew. I am thankful for God's grace. Where is God's grace in a sick child and a weary mother, you may ask? God's grace was that the illness happened last week, not this week, when we have to travel to a wedding in which my older daughters are flower girls. God's grace was what could have been, but wasn't. And when I think of all the other incidences in my life of how things could have been, I find that His grace is more than abundant.

Like how, twelve years ago, I could have married the wrong man. The man broke up with me and my heart shattered. But by God's grace, I experienced months of pain rather of years, maybe decades, of pain.

Or how I could have pursued the wrong career, and found success by the world's standards. God could have given me what I asked for, but by His grace, He didn't. He led me away from that path, and away from self-destructive pride and greed.

And so, once again, a difficult week of mothering has shone light on God's character. And I also found it providential that my baby's middle name is Grace.

On My Soap Box

Those of you who read my post 'In Good Humor' will understand the underlying tone of frustration in this post. I promise I won't rant. The photos speak for themselves.

We were blessed to receive a large bag of barely-used baby boy clothes. Most of the items were adorable (dinosaurs, trucks, and bears-- oh my!) but these two onesies made me stop. I understand that some people want to avoid overly sentimental and cute baby clothes, but I don't think messages like these are the answer. I might as well dress my son in a shirt that says, "I want to grow up and be incompetent like my dad."

And I'm not just picking on baby clothes. Girls shouldn't wear shirts that say "spoiled" on them and boys shouldn't wear ones that say "troublemaker". Shirts that put down (even if they are addressed to no one in particular) still convey a message.

Okay, I've said it. I'm off my soap box now… until next time.