Count Down

Dave and I count down with our boys.  I'm not talking about the "10...9...8......BLASTOFF!" variety here, although we certainly do plenty of that.  I'm talking about the "Either you can obey or [fill in the blank] will happen in 5...4...3...2...1" variety.  It's not something we necessarily saw ourselves doing (every parent has the dream that their child will obey immediately without ulterior motivations, right?), but it's been effective at getting our point across.  

If you start counting for this one, he typically gets the job done by Four, Two at the latest.

If you start counting for this one, he stares at the floor for the first four-and-a-half seconds and then tries to sly his way in before the deadline.  I'd say he's got about a 50 % completion rate.  

Neither of them like the consequence that occurs once they are caught in disobedience. Both are moved to action.  But one chooses the quick, safe route.  The other chooses the evasive, risky route.

I love the differences between these two boys.  It is a wonderful gift to get to know two people from birth in such an intimate way--to be able to see how they are formed uniquely, inside and out, from the moment they take their first breath.  Their differences are challenging and entertaining and amazing.  The "differentness" of my second born has broadened my perspective of the "differentness" of my first born.  

And they help me see myself differently and more completely.

I look at their reaction to a countdown, and I wonder how I treat "countdowns" that God gives me.  God is patient, generous and merciful beyond understanding; he is also just and righteous beyond understanding.  So, on a daily basis, he puts the option of obedience or disobedience before me.  Do I eagerly jump on the opportunity to do what I know is right and pleasing?  Or do I test him, to see how slowly he will count or to see how many second chances he will give?

Lord, help me to be an example for your little ones what it means to be quick to obey.

Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and obey it. Luke 11:28

Wisdom

One of my favorite things to do with my boys is to read books to them.  It doesn't matter if I've read it a thousand times before or none.  If they bring me a book, asking to be read to, it is really hard for me to say no. 

This is handy, because it seems like anywhere I turn, someone is encouraging me to read to my child: the doctor, the pre-school teachers, the grandmas (who were/are school teachers), websites, bloggers, etc.  I'll take all the positive reinforcement I can get.

Reading promotes the bond between reader and hearer, encourages literacy, and stimulates the brain in unique ways.  Reading expands our experiences.  Reading gives us a frame of reference.  Reading is exciting and interactive.  And the bonus is that good stories are really enjoyable--even when they're written for a four year old.

And, I hope for my boys that reading serves as a precursor to knowledge, and that knowledge will pave the way to wisdom.

It's funny thinking about the wisdom of a toddler and preschooler.  It might come in the form of a fear of bees, knowing that bees sting, and knowing that they want to avoid the pain a sting would bring.  It might come in the form of a "sweet face," knowing that sweetness generally melts their parents into a buttery mess of saying okay to whatever question is accompanied by such a face.  

It's a little tricky thinking about the wisdom of parents. What form does it take?  Are the wise the ones who read the most books?  Are the wise the ones who keep the most rigorous schedule?  Are the wise the ones who research the best school for their child?

Nope. None of those, according to God.  It seems as though the wisest ones are the ones who are humble about their own wisdom, and dependent on God for his.

But true wisdom and power are found in God;

    counsel and understanding are his. Job 12:13

The fear of the Lord is true wisdom; 

to forsake evil is real understanding. Job 28:28

Don’t be impressed with your own wisdom. Instead, 

fear the Lord and turn away from evil. Proverbs 3:7

Perhaps the best way that we can instill wisdom in the children God has given us is not to emphasize how smart they are or how many books they like to read in one sitting, but to help them understand the massiveness of God's wisdom compared to the tinniness of the things they know.

I'm learning to be okay with not being all that wise. It's a work in progress.  As I journey, I take great comfort in knowing that I have unsearchable storehouses of wisdom on my team.

If you need wisdom, ask our generous God, and he will give it to you. 

He will not rebuke you for asking. James 1:5

Growing

To arrive.

Images of success and completion come to mind, or making it to one's destination after a long journey, or getting to the place where you wanted to be. 

To arrive.

It seems as though we try to break down life into segments of arrivals.

For my preschooler, it is getting to the end of a long day and snuggling down in his bed next to his seven favorite stuffed animals. Or it is getting to go on the donut date with Daddy that they've been anticipating for weeks. Arriving is comfortable.

For my toddler, it is pulling into our garage and yelling, "Home!" Or it is successfully getting his shorts on all by himself. Arriving is joyous.

I grew up with the unconscious notion that there would be a time when I would "arrive." And I would be comfortable and full of joy... When I would get married. When I would establish a career. When I would become a mom. There was a notion deep in me that with those things would come a cease from striving and straining, a peace from the struggle against an unmet desire.

But just like the phenomenon of feeling like you were very grown up in 8th grade until you experience high school, and just like you feel grown up in high school until you experience college, I find myself in the midst of realizing how much more I need to grow. 

God is bringing to light the depth of growing and striving and straining and struggling that is ahead of me.

I will never "arrive" as a wife. The longer I am married, the more I feel this truth. I will continually have areas where I can improve. My love and I will struggle as we experience hard life situations. We will strive toward the goal of a relationship that is pleasing to God and each other. We will grow as we are challenged to love each other as God loves.  But there is no arriving: just striving, straining, struggling, and growing.

And I'm starting to realize that I will never arrive as a mom (so I'm a little slow sometimes...). As I hear the concerns of moms who are twice my age, it is strikingly obvious that there is no arriving in motherhood. There are constantly new battles to fight. There are endless areas of improvement. There is an unending morphing of the relationship between mother and child as years go by. Striving, straining, struggling, growing: yes. Arriving: no. 

These things in my life, these areas of growing, these never-completed roles keep me humble.  And they keep me focused.

Focused on arriving in a place with no more need for striving, straining, struggling or growing.  There is ONE place where I can truly arrive, and that will be my final home.  Heaven. Safe in my Father's arms.  Free from the sin that prohibits completion.  Free from the straining and striving.  Settled and complete. 

In the midst of feeling incompetent or incapable as a wife and mom, in the midst of feeling like the growing pains are too much to take, this is a beautiful truth. Oh, my heart yearns for it. And I thank God for the hope that arriving brings.

I yearn for my boys to know it.  Somedays, I am tempted to talk about next year with more passion than I use to talk about eternity. But instead of making a big deal about a new shoe size or tick on the height chart, I want to draw their eyes to how they are maturing in their forgiveness or how they are growing by leaps and bounds in the way they show love to others around them. I pray that God can use me teach them that the importance of their failures and successes is measured by the way in which those experiences prepare their hearts for eternity.

 No, dear brothers and sisters, I have not achieved it, but I focus on this one thing: Forgetting the past and looking forward to what lies ahead, I press on to reach the end of the race and receive the heavenly prize for which God, through Christ Jesus, is calling us. Philippians 3:13-14

Someday, there will be a cease to this journey.  Someday, there will be an intimacy that doesn't need tweaking or redefining. In a beautiful mess, the growing we do here points us to the arriving that we will enjoy there.

This vision is for a future time.

    It describes the end, and it will be fulfilled.

If it seems slow in coming, wait patiently,

    for it will surely take place.

    It will not be delayed. Habakkuk 2:3

Falling

Before I could even get him out of his room this morning, Zeke had me caught up in a game of Trust Fall.  You know, when one person stands in front of another and falls backward into the second person's arms: trust fall.  It's not your typical two-year-old game (I blame my husband), but two-year-olds are really good at the one thing needed for the game: trust.  Zeke was relentless about falling back into my arms--even if I wasn't ready and had to scramble to catch the little stinker.  He never tried to step back to catch himself.  He never even looked back to see if I was paying attention.  He just trusted.

Earlier this week, Noah started the Trust Fall game when we were at a friend's house.  Noah showed all the kids how fun it was to fall back and have my husband catch him.  The other little kids quickly lined up to give it a try. One, two, three did it, all giddy with excitement once they had been caught. Then sweet little Addison, who's two-almost-three, bravely lined up for her turn.  When she got into place, she took a long pause, looked around her, paused again.  And then, with all the people in the room as her audience, she fell FORWARDS!! I'm still laughing. (Thankfully, the game was being played on carpet, and she was smart enough to catch herself.)  

Little kids are incredible!  They trust!  First thing in the morning, they trust.  Even when they don't quite understand the rules, they trust.

And God loves it.

Dave and I are currently reading through The Jesus Storybook BIble for our devotions every night with Noah. (I highly, highly recommend this Bible. It is beautiful and beautifully written.) Last night, the story was that of Jesus and the little children. As I was listening to my love read the profound words, I was looking at my little child's face.  And there was a beauty there in that moment--the beauty that God brings to little things. He gave me a glimpse of the way he sees Noah, and it was incredible.  

I thought of the way that trust comes so naturally to children.  And I was reminded of God's desire that we would never lose our child's heart when it comes to trusting him.

I was awed by our God who uses simple things in such amazing ways. He reaches into our complex situations and gives us something beautiful and simple. Like a little girl falling forward because she trusts in the one behind her.  Like a little boy falling over and over because he trusts in the one behind him.

Trust in the Lord with all your heart

    and lean not on your own understanding;

in all your ways submit to him,

    and he will make your paths straight. 

Proverbs 3:5-6

Freedom

"Me do it!"

Opening up a wrapper.

"Me do it!!"

Putting on shoes.

"Me do it!!"

Watering the garden.

Little Zeke turned two last week. He is smart, funny, strong, silly, quick, and loving. And he is independent.

"Meeee-eee do it!"

He loves that he is physically capable of so many more things than he was six months ago. So, now, he feels as though he is capable of doing everything. 

It is such a blessing to be witness to the daily achievements and improvements that a two-year-old makes. It's also my greatest challenge these days.

Sometimes, my thought process goes like this:

You CAN'T open a granola bar wrapper; I'll just do it real quick before you realize you didn't get a chance. ... We could be on time if you would just let me put on your shoes. ... You make such a mess when you stir pancake batter--just let me do it!

I find myself grumpy because of how his independence affects my routine. I find myself impatient because of how his independence affects my schedule. I find myself tired because of how his independence tests my mercy.

Mercy.

How often does God look mercifully on me, while I am busy showing him how I can do things myself?

How often do I have the confidence of a two-year-old when it comes to handling tasks that would be much better accomplished by an all-powerful God?

Mercy.

And yet, because of his incomprehensible great love, he sits back and watches. He gives me freedom to try, and fail, and watch, and learn, and try again. Even when it messes with his plans for my day, he gives me freedom. Even when it tests his patience, he sits back and lets me try to do it by myself. Even when he knows an easier way, he lets me fumble down my own.

Because it is in the trying and doing that there is learning. It is in the experiencing and disappointment that our hearts and minds are open to something greater than ourselves. It is in the failed attempts that there is mercy. 

And it is in the total dependence on him that there is freedom.

Out of my distress, I called to the Lord;

the Lord answered me and set me free. Psalm 118:5

Covet

I did it again.

There I was, just minding my own business, seeing if there was anything interesting in the world of Facebook, and then it happened. An old high-school friend of mind posted a picture of the view from her new office. It was beautiful: a scene of the bay with the bridge crossing over, the cool colors of morning beginning to let go to the brilliance of day.  And I was jealous.

I immediately spun into a cycle of analyzing my mistakes and her successes, bemoaning my seeming inability in establishing a career, wanting to be happy for her and feeling disappointed in me.

This went on in my head longer than I care to admit.  And it is not the first time it has happened.  It rears its ugly head when I see my friends' success far surpass my own in one area or another.  

Coveting.  It is an ugly thing.

I see it in my boys, too.

Today, Zeke was happily playing "catch" (I use that term loosely; it's more like  a throw-the-ball-up-in-the-air-and-then-pick-it-up-off-the-ground-when-it-lands kind of game), when Noah proudly announced his entrance into the room with an "En garde!" and a thrust of his trusty shield.  In less than a second, Zeke completely forgot about the fun he was having and tried to pry the shield out of Noah's hands. A small wrestling match (which included yours truly), and screaming and crying followed (which did NOT include me, just to be clear). 

When I see it in my boys, it is ridiculous. Senseless. Ignorant. Selfish.

When I see it in me, and take the time to view it for what it actually is, it is ridiculous. Senseless. Ignorant. Selfish.

And it takes me back to my Rescuer.  The afternoon that I was caught up in where my friend was and I was not, he whispered into my heart: "You are here because I want you here, Christa.  I do not want you there."

His voice pulled me out of my internal spin and placed me back onto his pleasant path. The one that he has planned just for me.  And that's just where I want to be.

"Saying Yes to something means that you're saying No to everything else."

This statement came across "my desk" multiple times this week, from multiple sources. Interesting how that happens, eh?

I suppose the opposite might also be true: "Saying No to something means that you're saying Yes to something else."

I say No often.  

"No, you may not have another vitamin." 

"No, you may not jump on the bed." 

"No! We don't use our hands to hit." 

"No, no screen time this morning." 

"No, I'm making dinner right now."

I sometimes get tired of hearing my own voice...

But I know that these No's are good and beneficial to my boys.  In fact, by saying them, I am saying Yes to something else.

"Yes, I care more about your long-term health than your short-term taste buds."

"Yes, I find it important that you learn boundaries."

"Yes, I desire that you use your abilities to help instead of hurt."

"Yes, I want to help your brain develop in a way that is pleasing to your Father."

"Yes, I am doing work that will benefit you."

How can I go about teaching them the purpose behind my No's? I am chuckling as I envision their reactions if I would try to rephrase all of my No's with my Yes's. Our household conversations would begin to sound like something out of a Dr. Seuss book.  But perhaps I can begin to rephrase a few, in the right moments, so as to give those boys a bigger picture of my love for them and my role as their mom.

Speaking of a bigger picture, God has been working this week to teach me a bit about his No's, and how they are really Yes's from his perspective. 

No, I don't want you to be selfish right now, but Yes, I want you to lean deeper on my selfless love.

No, I don't want you spending time on that, but Yes, I do want you to spend time with Me.

No, you won't get money for that, but Yes, you will get a greater reward.

No, you won't understand, but Yes, you will grow.

Understanding the purpose behind the No's makes them a little sweeter. 

Tell me No again, Lord. I'd love to see what your Yes is.