Surprises From God

I'll cut to the chase. We're expecting Baby #9 in October.

When I had my first prenatal appointment, the doctor asked what is now a routine question, "Was this a planned pregnancy?"

I said, "No, not exactly."

"And you plan to keep this baby?"

"Yes," I answered, when what I really wanted to say was, "HECK YES!" (pardon my language)

Before the baby was bigger than a grape, before we found out if the baby is a boy or a girl (it's a girl!), before I ever saw her wiggling on the ultrasound, I cared for this human.

My husband and I were not expecting another child. After all, I'm 44 years-old. My youngest is now 5. I had become really good at tracking my ovulation cycle, and then...

God surprised us.

And this all happened RIGHT BEFORE the opening of my musical. Not the best timing.

And yet, it was my musical that helped me wrap my head (and heart) around this surprise.

I didn't expect to get pregnant, just as I didn't expect to write a musical. And if I saw Five Children and It as a gift from God, entrusted to me to bring to fruition and share with the world, how much more can this child be a gift?! God surprised me with 3+ years of working on a musical, and if I said "No" to him at the start, I would have never experienced the joy that the musical brought me. And that is how I see this child. There will be years of work involved, but the joys will outshine the work.

Children, ALL children, are a gift. It sounds clichéd, but I must say it, because I hear parents, Christians and non-Christians alike, complain about their children. Some people (Christians and non-Christians alike) think I'm crazy to have nine children. They see children as a chore and an inconvenience. I admit that in my younger years, I would have been whining to God at this point, "How am I going to handle another one? When will I have time to do the things I want to do?" 

But children are people, and we need to fight the urge to think of the people in our lives as "inconveniences." Let us love as God loves us; we are God's children, and we are NEVER an inconvenience to Him. 

When You're Emotionally Exhausted

I don't know what you're going through right now, but with the holidays coming, wounds that you thought were almost healed feels fresh and new again.

So I want to share with you the words of my friend Susan. Her father-in-law passed away suddenly a few weeks ago, and she writes about it on her blog.

If you're grieving, read her words. May you find hope and peace.

When You're Emotionally Exhausted

The Fruit of the Spirit is....

PEACE!

Don't we all need more peace in our lives?

Not just the clean-and-quiet-house kind of peace, or the lounging-on-a-beach-in-Hawaii kind of peace. I'm talking about the strong, steady peace of being in under God's wings even when a storm is raging all around you.

Last month's "Fruit of the Spirit" box (I'm a bit behind) included a scented candle, rosemary-infused olive oil, handmade soap, a pen, and a small poster that says:

Peace... Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid. (John 14:27)

What a wonderful reminder as we face the uncertainties of today and tomorrow.

The Big "What-Ifs"

In the past two years...

a friend lost a husband,

a friend lost a wife,

a friend lost a child,

a friend lost a parent to cancer,

and a friend was diagnosed with breast cancer.

This is basically my list of the Big "What-Ifs". 

Other what-ifs aren't so scary. My husband could lose his job–no biggie, been there, done that. Our house could burn down; that's just stuff, stuff comes and stuff goes.

But to lose my husband, my child, my parent, or my health... I have to ask myself, "Would I start doubting God's love and faithfulness? Would I turn from him? or doubt his existence? How would I respond?" And these things could happen to me. Four of these five friends are my age. 

Seeing my friends go through these heart-breaking, soul-crushing times have been the most difficult thing I've ever experienced. The only thing harder would be experiencing them myself. 

But–if this is any comfort to people going through a hardship right now–it's because of my friends that I'm no longer afraid of the Big "What-Ifs." 

Because I've seen my friends go through these times, and come out the other side.

Because I've seen how their faith carried them along when they had no strength left.

Because I've seen our church family surround my friends with love and care.

And because I've seen the Savior cover them in His wings and draw them near, even when He felt the most distant and silent.

There are some changes coming in the next few months for my family, and thinking about the unknown always causes a ball of anxiety to collect in the pit of my stomach. 

But I don't have to be afraid. God is the faithful Shepherd, and through green pastures or the Valley of the Shadow of Death, He is always with me.

The Light in the Dark

I’m sheltering with nine people – my husband and our eight kids. By God’s grace, we have yet to have a major blowup (though no shortage of minor ones), and by God’s provision (through many kind friends), we have yet to run out of toilet paper. 

My main job right now is to break up the humdrum of our day-to-day sameness by making things “interesting” – what interesting meal can I make with what’s in the refrigerator? what interesting crafts and games can we come up with? what interesting virtual playdates and trips can I schedule for the afternoon? So far, I’ve baked apple strudel, we’ve made popsicle stick catapults, and we’ve learned a new line dance.

And that’s been the easy part! The greater difficulty is fielding the kids’ questions.

“Is anyone coming over today?”

“When can we go the library?”

“How much longer will this go on for?!?!?”

I try my best to answer their questions, doing what I can to calm their restlessness, and their hearts. Then back to “cheerleader” mode I go! Who wants to line dance?

The truth is, behind my bold front, I am just as uncertain as my children are. I don’t have the answers. I feel anxious and unsettled too. And so I go to my father, my Heavenly Father. 

James 1:17 (ESV) tells us that “every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change.”

During this time of uncertainty, one thing is certain. God knows what lies ahead. He is sustaining us through this time with His gifts of peace and love. He is our solace and aid. And for Him, this isn’t some bold front. He truly is, and always has been, our steady foundation, especially during shaky times. He is our hope, our light in the darkness. 

And this is no flickering candle, no glimmer in the distance, no ordinary light. This is a light that “shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it” (John 1:5 ESV). Another favorite verse of mine says, “Even the darkness is not dark to you; the night is bright as the day, for darkness is as light with you” (Psalm 139:12 ESV).

This feels like a time of darkness, but remember this: it is not darkness to the Father of lights. Take some time today to sit with your Heavenly Father and bask in the warmth of His light.

The Calm in the Storm

This afternoon, I was standing in line with my shopping cart full of food, at least what food I could still find on the half-empty shelves. All around me were other families doing the same. The lines stretched into the aisles, but no one was pushing or yelling. In fact, people were calm and polite, some quiet, some laughing, some making conversation with strangers.

But I felt so tired. It had been such a strange few days. I just wanted to get some food to feed my brood. Being surrounded by people in crisis made me want to cry and I didn't know why.

Suddenly, an image filled my mind. It was a scene from the book "Tales of the Restoration", by David and Karen Mains. In a midst of a riot in the city, in which citizens were throwing mud at each other, a man quietly appeared.

...the man was wearing working-man's dungarees, a flannel shirt, a hardhat, and steel-toed boots. As the boy watched, the street cleaner said nothing. He scarcely glanced about him, but just kept cleaning and sweeping and shoveling the mess. 

A fistful of mud hit the man in the chest. He neither shouted in anger or threw the dirt back at the crowd; he didn't even wipe the filth from his shirt.

The boy in the story soon realized that the man was Jesus. Jesus is the peace in the midst of the storm; even better, He is the one who calms all storms.

This afternoon, as I stood in line with my shopping cart full of food, I closed my eyes and rested on this image. I imagined Jesus walking through the grocery store and bringing a peace-that-passes-understanding with him. I prayed for Jesus to calm the storm in my heart, that His peace would fill me, so that I could pass it on to others.

I realize now why I feel so tired. I've always felt others' pain very strongly, and every story I heard about people dying, children not getting fed because schools are closing, the elderly not having toilet paper, small businesses being in danger is like a boulder on my shoulder. Being in a store full of people "in panic" (as calm as we all were) was like an avalanche on my soul.

And so I've been reading and re-reading these words from Psalm 18:

I love you, O Lord, my strength.

The Lord is my rock, and my fortress and my deliverer;

my God is my rock, in whom I take refuge,

my shield and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.

This is the verse on my chalkboard right now. As my family lives in close quarters for the next few weeks, this will be our reminder that it is not these physical walls that protect us, but our God.

The Start of Another School Year

I finally finished lesson planning today. With five days to go. I am so thankful, because that means I can take the kids to the beach tomorrow without lugging along a textbook. And I can relax and soak in the last few days of calm.

I am hoping (and praying, of course) that this year will be different. It almost wasn't. A month ago, I was on the verge of going crazy while lesson planning, because I was worried about my sophomore son not having a biology class and I wasn't sure how I was going to teach him second-year French while my freshman daughter is still in first-year. I would lie in bed at night and try to see the situation from all sides, working it like a puzzle, and fretting about the outcome if I should fail to find a solution.

Thank God for Teaching from Rest by Sarah Mackenzie. I had heard about this book from many of my homeschooling friends, and when I saw it on sale online, I grabbed it. 77 pages. I can do that, I thought. Maybe I'll get something from it.

Right off the bat, I found myself agreeing with Sarah wholeheartedly.

The heart of this book is about remembering what our true task really is, and then throwing ourselves in completely. Giving our all. The raising of children, the teaching of truth, the sharing of life, the nourishment of imagination, and the cultivating of wisdom: These are all His anyway; we are merely His servants.

Yep, that's me! And that's why I'm up at night worrying! So then, how do I rest?

Sarah answers that question in the next chapter.

Rest begins with acceptance. Or, perhaps more accurately, with surrender. There will always be more you can do. You will never complete tasks entirely, because just on the horizon is tomorrow, and tomorrow the to-do list starts anew. It is so exhausting–sometimes even demoralizing–to realize that our work in raising up and teaching our children is never really done. But we must remember that we were never intended to finish it.

The more I read, the more I realized my mistakes in the past year. I had let the pressure of "high school" change my goals in homeschooling. I was approaching my son's high school years like I had approached mine, where I had planned every step and every class to ensure that doors would be open to me. Like any good mother, I want to give my son every opportunity! But the reality is that I can never give my son every opportunity. There are not enough hours in the day, or money in my bank. And that was stressing me out.

I needed to learn to rest, and as Sarah writes, "rest begins with acceptance."

We can't really rest in God's care until we trust that He will indeed care for us. And that means I can't teach from rest unless I trust Him with my kids' education too. I am not meant to take on this task of teaching and raising my children in my own strength, and neither are you. We are, however, meant to recognize every facet of our day as coming from the hand of God. It all passed through His fingers first, and He uses it to make sure that we lean hard on Him.

And isn't that what I saw in my own education? I was accepted to UC Berkeley based on test scores and grades, not based on what they actually knew about me. If they had known me, they would have known that I was interested in education, and UC Berkeley would extinguish that fire in me. They also would have known that I wanted to perform music, and so would have recommended UC Irvine instead. But God, my Maker, who knows me through and through, helped me get accepted to UC Berkeley because it really was the perfect place for me to develop my musical talents. The small and unique music department at that school was exactly what I needed to flourish and grow, while the campus's atheistic atmosphere challenged my faith. God knew exactly what I needed.

And that is where I am now with my children's education. I stopped worrying about biology and French 2 for my son. I remembered that I am not teaching so that I can brandish my son's impressive transcript (and therefore prove that I am a capable educator), but that I am teaching to nurture a man. That means spending more time this year on reading and less on grammar workbooks. That means reviewing French 1 with him and cementing more of those tricky verb conjugations in his head. And it means enjoying my last three years with my oldest. And if somewhere down the line, he needs to take a year or two at a community college to meet a requirement for a specific university, so be it. It is not the end of the world. God knows exactly what my son needs, and I trust that He is the one directing his path.

I will end with Sarah's words.

It's important to remember that rest is not ease. This isn't idealism. It isn't simple and peaceful in the sense of being easy or gentle. Teaching from rest is meaningful learning and growth–but without the anxiety and frenzy so common in our day...Peace comes from recognizing that our real task is to wake up each day and get our marching orders from God. It comes from diligence to the work He hands us, but diligence infused with faith, with resting in a God's promises to guide and bless us.

To all you homeschooling parents out there, here's to another year of restful and fruitful learning!

Trading My Sorrows

My eyes filled with tears as I watched the couple slow dance to 'Somewhere Over the Rainbow'. Ben, gently swaying with his arms around his wife, closed his eyes for a moment. He was fighting back tears too.

It was in that moment that I saw the pain amidst the joy, the duality that defines so much of Ben's life right now as he cares for Judy, who has Alzheimer's disease. He cherishes every smile, even when Judy isn't fully aware of her surroundings. He cherishes every word, even when Judy doesn't fully understand the conversation. And even as Ben lives with this deep pain, God has filled him with a new joy and peace that cannot be explained. When Ben is not with Judy, he is ministering to families and teaching others about Alzheimer's. 

Later, when I had a chance, I asked Ben how he has learned to manage the daily sadness of slowly losing his wife–if he has a routine or Bible verse that helps him get through the feeling when it overwhelms him.

"I don't have any one thing," Ben replied in his quiet way. "But I have learned to let myself feel the emotions."

The words struck me. I had learned at a young age to stifle certain emotions. Strength, I thought, lay in the ability to push through fear, doubt, despair, and sadness and tough it out. Why cry when I could do something about the situation? Why feel sadness when sadness hurts so much?

But as I recently discovered, sometimes crying is pushing through. Last summer, when I found out that I was expecting Baby #8, fear crept into my heart. But I didn't address the fear; I only told myself, "God wants to teach you something. So find the lesson." Then the baby came, and I found my fear realized as I struggled to manage everything. But I told myself, "I can do this. I just have to try harder." All the while, I became buried deeper and deeper in my dark emotions, sometimes lashing out at my husband or children, sometimes beating myself up for not doing enough. Joy and peace seemed elusive. I felt like everything was going to fall apart if I stopped moving. But it was really me that was falling apart. And all I was really doing was putting duct tape on a bursting pipe. I couldn't figure out what I was doing wrong… until I allowed myself to cry.* If you've ever watched Pixar's Inside Out, you would understand.

And I discovered that crying goes beyond a psychological or physiological need to expel pain. Whenever I try to avoid feeling loss or pain, I am really trying to hold onto self-reliance. I put on a good front. I tell people "I'm fine." And I keep trying to fix the problem. I try not to feel the pain in the hope that by the time the problem is fixed, I can move on to happier emotions. But in doing so, I also keep a death grip on my pride. Which means my hands are closed, and I am unable to receive help, or anything, from God. 

All this time, I kept asking God to reveal to me what He wanted me to learn, not realizing that I was unable to learn it. That was, until I cried. Until I humbled myself and let go. Until I admitted that I couldn't do it on my own.

I would have found this in the Bible too if I had thought to look. My friend Susan (thank you, Susan!) reminded me that centuries before me, the authors of the Psalms cried out in despair and hopelessness, sounding almost blasphemous as they accused God of abandoning them. David, in Psalm 13, wrote

How long, O Lord? Will you forget me forever?

How long will you hide your face from me?

How long must I wrestle with my thoughts and every day have sorrow in my heart?

How long will my enemy triumph over me?

Look on me and answer, O Lord my God.

Give light to my eyes, or I will sleep in death;

my enemy will say, "I have overcome him," and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

Notice, though, how David ended his song. 

But I trust in your unfailing love; 

my heart rejoices in your salvation.

I will sing to the Lord, for he has been good to me.

David did not just cry out to feel better. He didn't cry out to the sky just to release pent-up emotions. He traded his fears and sadness for peace and joy.

And that is what Ben is learning. And me also. By being honest with myself and admitting my weakness, I find strength, real strength. By allowing myself to fully feel the heartache, I can then be healed. And I've felt joy, peace, and patience return to me, though my situation hasn't changed much. 

Yes, there is a release when you cry, but what's even better is when you can release the emotions and the whole situation to the One who can do something about it.

(*See the post from May 11, When Mamas Need a Good Cry.) 

Let there be light!

Wow, this post becomes more relevant to me with each passing day, even though I wrote the first draft almost one month ago.

At that time, I was 39 weeks pregnant and feeling more discouraged, more tired, more sore, and more anxious that I had ever felt while pregnant. I was having strong contractions on and off for several weeks and all I really wanted was to have my baby, but at the same time, the fear of labor pains and my new life afterwards loomed over me at all hours of the day and night.

All I could do was try to stay busy. I excused myself from the family to run to the Chinese grocery store (Chinese food– my biggest craving) and heard this song coming through my van's CD player:

In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth

The earth was without form and void and darkness was over the face of the deep

And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters

And God said, "Let there be light"

And there was light

The lyrics are straight from Genesis 1:1-3. As I sat listening to the soothing melody, I was reminded that God is the ultimate Creator. He has been there since the beginning, creating and holding the universe together. And He was still creating now, in me! There was a whole new person inside me! How amazing that I can be a part of God's creation process.

And even more encouraging was the fact that God brings order to chaos, light to the darkness. I picture God's great hand giving shape and meaning to the turmoil and confusion of the uncreated universe. Similarly, anytime I am feeling unsteady and fearful, God guides me through it.

And guided me He did.

That very night, just a few hours after I started writing this post, my water broke. I then experienced my hardest, most painful labor ever because the baby was posterior facing. But after laboring through the dark night, the baby was born at 6:49am, March 4th, healthy and whole. And how perfectly fitting that her name is Nariah, which means 'God is my light'!

But we are still in the midst of the chaos. Nariah is having trouble nursing, so I pumping around the clock, supplementing, and trying to teach her to like the breast again, which also means I can't pay as much attention to my other children or keep up with daily chores. I still have moments of darkness, even more so now because sometimes I feel like I'm failing as a mother, to the baby and all my other children...

Then I remember God's words, "Let there be light!" And I am reminded (again and again) that this present darkness is not forever, not when God is in charge. I may feel inadequate as a mother of eight, I may not know the reason for the timing of this baby, I may want to think that God has made a mistake (or more likely, that I have made a mistake), but those are all NOT true. God is sovereign. God is present. God is orchestrating all the details of my life, and Nariah's young life too.

So be encouraged as I am being encouraged. Maybe you are in your first trimester, or your 39th week. Or maybe you just lost a child. Or you are going through illness. We all have periods of darkness, when we wonder if God has abandoned us or if this time will never end. Remember that God was there at the beginning and that He is in charge. Only He can make something out of nothing and create beauty out of the ugly.

One more thing, if you are looking for uplifting music with lyrics straight from the Bible, check out Seeds Family Worship (and hear the song mentioned above, 'God is Creator' from Genesis 1:1-3). I am so glad my friend Ariel gifted our family with the Character of God CD. Listening to the Seeds Family albums are also a great way to memorize Bible verses!

God With Me

I am tired.

Physically tired. Emotionally tired. Mentally tired.

But I am joyful and grateful. A friend asked me on Friday, "How can you be so calm during all this?!"

Well, it's been a bit of a journey. This is a situation I would have never expected to find myself in.  But let me begin at the beginning.

A few months ago, my husband and I began to notice a strange stench in our bedroom, a foul smell that came from under the house. My husband tried all he could to locate the cause of the odor, but could find nothing. Since we had done all we could, we called the landlord and told him about the smell. We also had to start sleeping on the sofa bed in the living room because the smell  was bothersome and overwhelming at times. We wondered if it was a leak, or mold, or worse.

One plumber came. He could not find a leak. Maybe it is the rain water? he said. I told him about the smell. He said, it must be the rain water.

A restoration specialist came to test for mold. How do I get under the bedroom? he asked. There was no entry that we knew of, I told him. Only these two little vents. Then I can't do anything, the man said. And he left.

Finally, workers came to fix the possible rain water problem. They dug trenches in the front yard to lay a French drain, and they jackhammered the cement in the backyard to level the ground. After two days of noise and demolition, the workers told me, the only way to see what the smell under the house was to go through the bedroom floor. I called my husband and he came home right away to help empty out our bedroom.

We then tried to manage normal living in a house full of furniture and clothes. We continued with school. I went to my prenatal appointment and baked cookies and made split pea soup for dinner. But then one of the workers came to me and asked, Do you want to see what we found under the bedroom floor? I wasn't sure I wanted to, but I followed him to my bedroom.

Under where my bed had once been was basically a pond of muck. Toilet paper and scum floated about. An old, broken pipe stuck out,  the only clue to this mystery. We stood staring into the hole in the floor, flabbergasted and speechless. 

The only solution was for my family to live elsewhere for a few days while the workers shut off the water and fixed the pipes. And that is where we are in the story today.

"How can you be so calm, Rita?!" my friend asked.

Calm. The calmness she saw was an answer to prayer.

My friend didn't know how months before I had been searching daily on Craigslist for rental houses that could accommodate our large family, all the while worrying about the increase in rent. I wanted to pack and move immediately, if only to escape my present  circumstance.

She didn't know about my prayers to keep my baby safe, and for the many times I almost panicked because I couldn't remember when I last felt the baby kick. Then I prayed specifically for a flutter or some sign that the baby was okay, just to calm my heart. 

She didn't know about the night I felt so helpless and anxious that I just cried in bed. I called out to God for peace. And that whatever happened, that I would trust Him through the situation.

He has answered my prayer, times a hundred.

The problem under the house may be a major inconvenience, but it is fixable and not the danger we had imagined. We did not lose our home. We did not lose our belongings. We will not need to move after all.

It has not rained in eight days. The surprisingly warm and sunny weather has only aided in the clean-up of the unwanted water. 

Our friends Jason and Susan enthusiastically welcomed us into their home and said that we could stay as long as we need. I've been able to cook and do laundry. My children have been playing with their children. I can relax and feel at home because of their hospitality.  

We are not sick, in pain, or suffering in any way. My baby is 26 weeks old now and healthy. I feel her kick when I play the cello or sing.

So, this hasn't been the holiday season I wished for, but I have come through this time of uncertainty with a peace that goes beyond the twinkling lights and merry holiday music. 2017 was not the year I had expected it to be. Never would I have thought that I would one day be pregnant with my eighth child and living in my friend's house. But I see the way Emmanuel, 'God with us', has walked with me through the years, and the way He is walking with me now... right into 2018.

From Your Little Sparrow

Dear Dad,

You know how my muscles were clenched as I talked to the mechanic about the minivan. You know how I was trying to discretely scan the paper work, looking for the cost. You know how my hand was on my wallet, ready to give the man my credit card, the same credit card that was recently charged with several thousand dollars to pay for my son's surgery.

What a sweet blessing it was then when the mechanic said, "There is no cost today." I don't know why there was no cost. He had spent at least an hour checking our van for a possible broken part. He had found nothing. He could have charged us for wasting his time and I wouldn't have blamed him! But he loved us as one brother loves another. And my smile and quiet "thank you" hardly conveyed the relief and joy I felt.

Dad, you know the unexpected expenses we have had this year. You know every penny. But you also know that I almost cried when I climbed into my minivan, with the words "There is no cost" still ringing in my ears. And if I had cried, you would have counted every tear, because you care for me. You cared enough to provide in a large ways with extra work for my husband and piano lessons for me. And you cared enough to provide in the little ways, like today.

I love you, Dad. Thank you for always watching out for me.

Love,

Your Little Sparrow

Comfort and Peace

His chest rises and falls
Rises and falls
Rises and falls

As he lies in my arms
All his weight
His whole twelve pounds
Rest on my strength alone

There is nothing he wants more in this world
Than the comfort of love
And the peace he finds
In his mother's arms

And if I could
I would
Stop turning to objects, memories, desires, experiences
Even people with the best intentions

This is all I want
To lean
To rest
All my weight
On the only One

To know the same comfort
To know the same peace
That can only be found
In my Father's arms

The Fruit of the Spirit is...

The Pressure's Off, Moms!

No mother in all of history was able to protect her child from everything. And no mother in all of history parented without ever making a mistake.

So why am I bombarded with the message that I am guilty of being a horrible mother if I don't do everything I can to guard my child from harm? And when I say harm, I don't mean war and wild animals. I live in a suburb of San Francisco. The "harm" I encounter is non-organic produce, dirt, and allergies. I constantly feel the pressure to keep up with what I read on the Internet and hear on the news: sunblock is good, sunblock is bad; co-sleeping is good, co-sleeping is bad; protein is good, gluten is bad, milk is both good and bad. Trying to keep up with this trivial minutia can be more discouraging than helpful! I am already mindful of my children's safety, trying to feed them a variety of good foods, educate them, keep them healthy and rested… and still, it's not enough. Somehow, if I miss something, my children will either get cancer or not be admitted into the college of their choice (which means they will become unhappy, unproductive members of society, homeless or living in my basement).

I am grateful that when I am plagued by thoughts of failure, I can lean on the ultimate Source of peace and wisdom. Didn't God promise that He would provide all that we need, from physical needs such as food and clothes to spiritual needs such as faith and wisdom?

Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? ~Matthew 6:25

His divine power has granted to us all things that pertain to life and godliness, through the knowledge of him who called us to his own glory and excellence… ~2 Peter 1:3

Jesus tells us to give our worries and anxieties to him and  to trust Him with the details. Our children are in His hands all the time. Which means that I don't need to live like a fearful mother hen or an ever-watchful, Super Mom robot. Yes, my children will get sick. Yes, they will fall down. Yes, they will eat dirt. Yes, they will encounter bullies. And yes, they will eat something that contains high fructose corn syrup and articial flavoring. My fears will still come and go, but I don't need to live in fear. God will give me calmness and peace in any circumstance, which allows me to spend more time actually enjoying my children. One of my favorite verses right now is this:

Come to me, all who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy, and my burden light. ~Matthew 11:28-30

My husband and I were up all night with a vomiting child for the second time this week. We are definitely feeling weary today. But these words are a comfort! We can find rest in God's arms– not just rest for our bodies, but rest for our souls.

As a Deer

Traditions Old and New

Advent is upon us! People are putting lights on their houses! Cars become transport vehicles for Christmas trees! Stores play carols and Christmas tunes through their loud speakers!

And why does any of it matter? Why do people get excited about Christmas, even if they celebrate it only for secular reasons?

It's the anticipation.

It is something to look forward to during the rest of the year. It marks this time as different from the other months. It gives us a sense of community. And who doesn't like having an excuse to celebrate?

And that is why family traditions are something to think about. Because a tradition is repeated, family members (especially children) can anticipate them. They look forward to the tradition as something out of the ordinary. The traditions are something THEY do, uniting them as a family. And of course, they're fun!

Some families have traditions that are decades old. And a new family can certainly come up with a tradition that will be all their own. But if you grew up with no family traditions, you may not know where to start. My answer to that is: start anywhere! Do something annually and it becomes a tradition! My brother-in-law takes his children out for a hot chocolate on their birthday, starting at the age of three. My nephew and nieces LOVE their birthday hot chocolate with Daddy! So think, what does your family enjoy doing in general? What is considered a treat? What is doable on a regular basis? (Hawaii would be a nice tradition, but only in my dreams!) Then pick a day and do it every year on that day or around that same time.

If you are wanting to start some traditions in your family, Christmas is a great time to do so. Here are some ideas to get you going:

-Buy a potted Christmas tree and plant it. Decorate it with popcorn and cranberry strings, fruit, and nuts for the animals. 

-Do a countdown to Christmas morning by making a paper chain 24 links long. Everyday, tear off a link and watch as the chain grows shorter and shorter. You can also write a Bible verse or "activity for the day" (like "Make popcorn balls") on each chain.

-Tell stories or memories related to each ornament as you put them on the tree.

-Bake goodies and share them with your neighbors. Surprise them with a song on their door step.

-Hike or drive up to a vista point and look at the stars. Try to envision the first Christmas.

-Host an old-fashion caroling outing or singalong. 

-Dress up in make-shift costumes and reenact the Christmas story. Have a narrator read the biblical accounts of the birth while everyone else pantomimes. Children love being Mary, Joseph, angels, or sheep. Infants born that year have the honor of being Baby Jesus.

Remember, though, that traditions are not a rule to live by. They should never feel like shackles. If you find yourself feeling bitter, angry, or stressed because of a tradition, stop. Ask yourself, "What is more important- joy, peace, and love or this tradition?" The traditions may not be worth doing if it causes tension between family members or robs people of the joy of the holiday. Why are we even celebrating? Because it's Jesus's birthday! It's a holy day (the root of the word 'holiday')! And it's not the cookies that make it holy, or the  songs, or the lights! Traditions and decoration should enhance the holiday; don't let them become a distraction.

If you are interested in reading more on traditions or Christmas ideas, here are some quick links:

Christmas Traditions

Our Favorite Christmas Stories

Because we have plans to travel this year, I changed our traditions a bit. But my children and I still look forward to this fun and festive time! The youngest will be introduced to our traditions, and who knows? maybe we'll discover a new tradition this year! 

Use Me Here

When I was in high school, I couldn't wait for college. When I was in college, I couldn't wait to graduate. While working part-time, I wanted something full-time. And when I was single, I wished I was married. 

One of the few regrets I carry with me now is that I wasted so much time when I was younger. Rather than seeing what God had for me in the present, I was always looking to the future. I can't honestly say that I helped any of my friends in high school. In college, I didn't point people towards Christ. And when I worked as a studio piano teacher, I taught with little expectation and little passion. Week after week, students came and went. We practiced the same scales, the same songs, and I always said, "See you next week!" while thinking "When do I get to go home?"

One day, "See you next week!" never happened. One of my adult students never came back, because she had suddenly passed away. And that was when it hit me.

I had missed my chance to be an influence in this woman's life. I had had several weeks of scheduled time, and I could have made the most of my weekly thirty minutes with her. But I didn't, because I was taking it all for granted. I was praying, "God, move me onto to something else," when I should have been praying, "God, use me here while I am here."

After that incident, I never looked back. I started seeking opportunities to show God's love, from simple notes to encourage people to great sacrifices of time and money. And now, though I have moments of wanting a break from my duties as mom and housecleaner, I don't spend my time pining for the days when my children will be grown. I love homeschooling. I love mentoring new moms, young single women, and newly-weds. I love asking the check-out person, "How's your day going?" I love cooking for people in need and people coming to visit. And I love sharing our home to people. God has given me so much, and I want to pass it ALL on.

Oftentimes, we forget that at every stage of life, God has a purpose for us. Maybe it's in our nature to be discontent. When we're young, we want to be older. When we're old, we want to be younger. Or maybe it's because we are bombarded by messages like "It'll be great when you retire!" or "Wait until the kids are out of the house!" Even when we are young, adults ask us, "What do you want to be when you grow up?" We tell our children to strive for graduation, a driver's license, a job, an award– all ways of saying, in the most subtle way, "When you reach this goal, then you are ready to contribute!" My husband and I tell our children that they can contribute NOW, that sharing God's love, joy, and peace is not limited to those 18 and older, that they can always be on the lookout for opportunities to shine God's light.

And that's a good reminder for us adults too, that God can use us, whatever age we are. I hope that when I am in my forties, my sixties, and even my eighties, I will not waste the time God gives me, and that I will ALWAYS pray, "God, use me here while I am here."