Mobile

Where can I go from your Spirit? 

   Where can I flee from your presence? 

If I go up to the heavens, you are there; 

   if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. 

If I rise on the wings of the dawn, 

   if I settle on the far side of the sea, 

even there your hand will guide me, 

   your right hand will hold me fast.   

Psalm 139:7-10

We installed our first wireless router tonight.  I know what some of you are thinking, "How in the world have they lasted so long without one?"  Let me be the first to tell you that it can be done, but I'm pretty happy that it will no longer be done in the Prill house.  Wireless internet gives me a new sense of freedom.  (I can check my email while lying down on the couch!)  In fact, it makes the internet itself seem completely novel and exciting.


Noah is going to be a year old in a little over a week.  Talk about wireless.  That kid is completely mobile, and it has indeed opened up a new world to him.  He realizes that he holds the power to get to any place he wants to go.  This is a lot of fun when he's chasing the cat or looking for Dave or me.  The fun ends, however, when barriers get in his way: closed doors to the outside, for instance, can be particularly damaging to his mobile ego.


We were in a large home improvement store today, and Noah loved being out of the cart and on his feet.  His eyes were on one new thing after another, leading him farther and farther away from where Dave and I were.  I followed him to see how far he would go, and finally picked him up when he had wandered all the way down the Lighting isle and over past Tile, past Flooring to Wallpaper.  I have the sneaky suspicion that he's going to be "that kid" that gets lost in the mall someday. 


I wonder how the world looks to him.  If one simple wireless router can make me excited, he must be on overdrive to discover everything new about mobility (see scraped forehead for proof).  Does he ever feel lost or overwhelmed by the possibilities?  Does he consider danger or consequence?


He definitely trusts that someone who loves him is always close by to come to his rescue if needed.  And he has every reason to believe that.  Don't we also have every reason to believe that we can never be out of reach of our loving Daddy?  Perhaps it's time we all do a little more exploring.

Delightful

This little guy is such a delight to have around the house!  He lights up my life with his smirks, smiles and laughter.  His eyes glow with excitement over anything he hasn't seen before.  He is taking in his world, one moment at a time.  It is the coolest thing to watch him discover something new, to teach him about his surroundings, and to join him in his love of life.

Cling

Psalm 63:1-8

You, God, are my God, 

   earnestly I seek you; 

I thirst for you, 

my whole being longs for you, 

in a dry and parched land 

where there is no water.

I have seen you in the sanctuary 

and beheld your power and your glory. 

Because your love is better than life, 

my lips will glorify you. 

I will praise you as long as I live, 

and in your name I will lift up my hands.

I will be fully satisfied as with the richest of foods;

with singing lips my mouth will praise you.

On my bed I remember you;

I think of you through the watches of the night.

Because you are my help, 

I sing in the shadow of your wings. 

I cling to you; 

your right hand upholds me.

Today, Noah was clinging to me.  I think the record for the longest period when he was content on his own, or with my husband, was about twenty minutes.  If he was within arm's reach, he was grabbing a hold of my jeans to pull himself a little closer to me.  If he was not in the same room as me, he was whining about it.  His attachment was endearing and a little flattering, but, as is said, "everything in moderation."  I was to the point of getting sick of his demands of my time and attention.

I think we would be hard-pressed to make God sick of our attachment to him.  How he desires for us to cling to him for every move, to desire his presence more than any other!  We would be blessed to cling to the Lord as David did, to depend upon the strength of the Lord to help us with each step.

I deeply love my son, which makes me glad that he finds me a trustworthy source of comfort.  I desire to be like Noah in his attachment, and like God in his response.

Joy

"Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with an inexpressible and glorious joy"  1 Peter 1:8

Little Noah has been nothing but joy over the past two weeks.  He almost always has a smile on his face, or one that's easy to get out of him.  I have laughed so much at him: I didn't think that a little baby could be so much fun!

What an awesome precursor to the joy of Christmas!   While I can only imagine the joy of the angels or the shepherds or Mary and Joseph, I am thankful for the joy that God has graciously given to my heart this Christmas season.  Even though I have not seen the baby Christ with my own eyes, I have the joy of knowing that he chose to come into the world to save sinners like me.  

Merry Christmas!

Thanks

Give thanks to the Lord, for he is good;

his love endures forever.

Psalm 106:1

It seems as though a whole season has passed since I last had a moment to reflect.  Amid the baking, cooking, eating, dish washing, game playing, and madhouse shopping of last week, I was able to squeeze in a few moments with my husband in which we listed off the many things we have to be thankful for.


The obvious things showed up on the list, of course.  And a lot of people I talked to over the course of the week said things like, "Oh, you have a house to be thankful for!"  or  "Your first Thanksgiving in your new home--it will be so special."  But the things that I'm really thankful for have nothing to do with the new house or with the food that was on the table or anything like that.  


I realized that I'm thankful for the intangible, the stuff I can't put my hands on.  Even as I write these words, I can't properly describe the depth of thankfulness I have for the man I love and the little boy we can call our own.  Each night, I thank the God who made the heavens that he has granted me one more day to spend with Dave and Noah.  And the thing that I can't seem to wrap my mind around is this: that the love of the Father, his grace and mercy, is so much more special than even these.

Change

For He is the living God,

and he endures forever; 

 his kingdom will not be destroyed,

his dominion will never end.

He rescues and he saves;

he performs signs and wonders 

in the heavens and on the earth.

Daniel 6:26-27

Tonight is the last night that we will be sleeping in the run-of-the-mill one bedroom apartment that has served as our home for the last 16 months.  We are quite cramped in our 460 square feet, our bedroom doubling as a nursery and the living room doubling as storage space, so in one sense, I can't wait to move to a larger house.  However, there is a large part of me, unexpectedly, that is grieving the loss of this place.  This is our home: the first place where Dave and I have been "all grown up" (out of school); the first place where we've ever had a pet; the only place Noah has known.  We are comfortable here: we are used to overhearing our neighbors fight, we know the walking trails, we can easily get from here to there (wherever there might be).

I think about all the unknowns of our new home.  I wonder if we'll be happy we moved there or if we'll end up disappointed.  Part of me wants to stay in the apartment, because it's safe.  Perhaps I'm hesitant to move because it's just one more change to add to the tally list this year, and right now I'm yearning for stability.

As I was reading through the book of Daniel this week, I was struck with the power of the Everlasting Lord.  He never changes, and has been in control of history since the very first day.  He was alive to keep Daniel safe from the lions' mouths.  He was alive on the Sunday after his death to bring comfort and peace to his friends.  He is living today, giving me the strength and courage I need to make another change.  I pray that his peace would never leave its home in me.

Receiving Help

I like to think of myself as a pretty capable person, and, like a lot of people, I like to prove that I can do things on my own.  Perhaps that comes from being the only sister among a handful of brothers.  Perhaps it's part of the culture we live in.


Earlier this week, I was walking from the parking lot to my apartment with Noah in a carrier and at least 10 bags of groceries loaded on my arms.  A neighborhood boy saw me walking past and said, "Do you need any help?" to which I kindly replied, "No, I'm ok. Thank you."  to which he quickly retorted, "Oh, 'cause it kind of looks like you're struggling there."  Apparently he could see my need better than I could!


As I type this out, I am wondering about all the times that God sees our needs better than we do.  How often does he hold out his hand to offer the assistance we need, only to be told, "No, thanks. I'm ok"?


My husband and I definitely have our hands fully these days.  We are currently trying to pack up our little apartment in the hopes of moving into our first home.   The process of "closing" on the house has been more of a headache than either of us had anticipated, which has left us in a generally disgruntled mood.  We were hoping to move two weeks ago.  Now we're beginning to think that we'll be lucky if it happens at all. This will be the fourth time that we've moved, but the first time that we've attempted to do it with a five-month-old around.


It's at this point when I think that God sees our need better than we do.  We think we're doing pretty good: half of the house is packed, we reassure ourselves that all the paperwork will come together in good time, we don't mind too much that we're eating off of a folding table or that we haven't been able to find things we need.  


Today I marvel at the fact that God has seen our needs and has offered his help.  How can I be confident of that?  On Sunday, a friend of ours stopped by with some homemade minestrone for us and treated Dave to conversation over a beer.  This week, my schedule at work was considerably lighter (which I consider a blessing).  Wednesday, my generous friend came over for a few hours to watch Noah while I packed.  What a difference these small instances made in my attitude over the past week.


Thank you, God, for putting people in our lives to help us when we need it, especially when we don't think we do.  Help me live with my hands open, willingly giving (and receiving) help.