Hero

Today you are going into battle against your enemies. Do not be fainthearted or afraid; do not panic or be terrified by them. For the Lord your God is the one who goes with you to fight for you against your enemies to give you victory. Deuteronomy 20:3-4

What is it about little boys and heroes?

There has been quite a lot of hero talk around our house lately. My oldest child recently celebrated his fourth birthday. As a part of that, a handful of little heroes donned their capes and equipped themselves with silly string to attack the villains. And Spiderman was everywhere: on the cake, covering the bike, in books, on a puzzle, and on a sprinkler, for goodness' sake.  It was so much fun.

During a car conversation last week, Dave and I asked Noah if Spiderman was real or fake. (We also have these discussions about Santa, the Easter Bunny...)  "Real," he said. 

I wonder if he was disappointed to discover that day that not only was Spiderman pretend, but so were Batman, Ironman and all the other superheroes he knew. I wonder what was going through his head. Was he disappointed that he would never get to see Spidey swing from building to building? Was he sad that the real world might not be as exciting as the pretend world? Was he wondering why there's so much attention and hype to things that aren't real?

And then I brought myself to sputter out the cliche: "Jesus is our real superhero."

He was kind of quiet in his usual way and then went on to another topic.

What was it in me that made saying something so real feel silly? What is it about our current day that makes Jesus as Superhero seem like a Sunday School nicety rather than the earth-shaking truth? 

Perhaps we get stuck in seeing him in his "alter ego," rather than seeing the power that lies beneath the surface.

I feel like King David had a good grip on God as his superhero:

The Lord is with me; I will not be afraid.

    What can mere mortals do to me?

The Lord is with me; he is my helper.

    I look in triumph on my enemies.

It is better to take refuge in the Lord

    than to trust in humans.

It is better to take refuge in the Lord

    than to trust in princes.

All the nations surrounded me,

    but in the name of the Lord I cut them down.

They surrounded me on every side,

    but in the name of the Lord I cut them down.

They swarmed around me like bees,

    but they were consumed as quickly as burning thorns;

    in the name of the Lord I cut them down.

I was pushed back and about to fall,

    but the Lord helped me.

The Lord is my strength and my defense;

    he has become my salvation.

Psalm 118:6-14

I have never had enemies attacking me from all sides, let alone one side. But I can think of ways that I can draw attention and hype and sing some "Superhero Praises" of God. I can think of ways that my own eyes have seen God pull out his super power. 

I want to begin to share all of those ways God has saved real people in real danger, all the ways he attacks real enemies, and all the ways that he shows his real strength, so that my boys can begin to learn that He is a real hero who can be trusted in any situation, who fights for what is right, and who has won victory for them.

On Becoming Mommy

Four years ago, people would walk up to me, saying, "Wouldn't it be wonderful if he was born today? That would be a perfect Mother's Day gift!" I was on the cusp of becoming a new mom then, and it doesn't seem so long ago... until I look at my 3 1/2 foot-tall almost-four-year-old boy.

I think about all the lessons I have learned about myself, and how I relate to others (particularly my family). I've learned a thing or two about expectations, exhaustion, patience, endurance, and anger. I've learned a lot about service and sacrifice and love. Being a mom has without a doubt changed me, and I feel like I have become a better mom than I was four years ago.

And then I think about my good friend, who has been a mom for over nine years, and I wonder how I will grow and change and improve in the five years to come.

And then I think about my own mom, who will reach the 49-year mark very soon. I think about all the lessons that she has learned, and wonder if she still finds herself growing in her capacity to mother. I think about all of her experiences and the wisdom she has gleaned from those.

And then I think about our heavenly Father, who has been raising sons and daughters for a very, very long time. I think about his wisdom, his experience, his insight, and his qualifications. And then I think about how sometimes I respond to him with disrespect, or disregard, or distrust. And it seems quite silly to think that I act in ways that do not heed wisdom which has the experience of millennia to back it up.

And then I pray that I would grow into the type of mother who would let the wisdom of the eternal Father flow through me to reach his little royalty.

Copycat

I sometimes feel like I live in an echo.  

If one boy is doing it, the other will surely copy soon. Noah says, "Ow!" Zeke says, "Ow!!" Noah starts digging in the dirt; Zeke digs in the dirt. Noah sings "hi-ho-hi-ho, it's off to work we go" over and over (because it's the only part of the song he knows) and Zeke tries his best to imitate in his sweet singing voice. 

It goes the other way, too, you know. If Zeke decides to forgo his spoon and reaches into his bowl to pull his cereal out of the milk with his hands, Noah will dig his hand into his bowl.  Zeke will take off his shoes in the car; Noah will take off his shoes in the car. Zeke will pour water out of the bathtub; Noah will pour water out of the bathtub (after he has done a quick "parent-check" to see who's paying attention).

They are copycats, and typically their antics keep me laughing.

As Zeke tries to do more and more things that Noah does, he has begun to learn a thing about limitations.  When he wants to break an egg, I tell him he needs to wait until he's a little older.  When he wants some "screen time," we tell him that he can when he's three. When he sees Noah jumping off a high ledge at a playground, something intrinsically tells him that he needs to slither down on his belly until he's a little bigger.

As parents, we see very clearly how some kids are ready for certain things while others are not. 

Perhaps God has such a view of us. 

As I compare myself to friends, family and acquaintances, I often assume that I could or should be doing what they are doing.  Sometimes I feel guilty that I'm not doing the kinds of things they are doing, or like I should be doing more to match their level of commitment to family, church, or work.

How often do I forget to gaze up at my Father in those moments, asking with wide eyes, "Can I do what she's doing?" I wonder how often he would retort with, "Not yet. You need to wait until you're a little older." 

Oh, that I would learn to be a copycat of his timing.

Rest

“Remember the Sabbath day by keeping it holy. Six days you shall labor and do all your work, but the seventh day is a sabbath to the Lord your God. On it you shall not do any work, neither you, nor your son or daughter, nor your male or female servant, nor your animals, nor any foreigner residing in your towns. For in six days the Lord made the heavens and the earth, the sea, and all that is in them, but he rested on the seventh day. Therefore the Lord blessed the Sabbath day and made it holy." Exodus 20:8-11

A day without work. A holy, Sabbath day.

Noah likes to watch Curious George (the half hour variety on PBS) EVERY day. it is often the very first thing he asks about in the mornings, "Is Curious George on yet?" Heard by a person like me, who can think of so many better ways to spend time than to watch TV, it usually makes me cringe. I know that routines are important for a three-year-old, but I also don't want him to build his day around making sure he can watch "the monkey." So, I began to establish a "rest from Curious George" on Sundays. It's not on TV, so that helps, but he also knows by now that we won't even pull it up on YouTube, which we routinely do for him on Saturdays. I hope that he is beginning to understand that Sundays are set apart. Different. Special.

And, as is the case most times that I try to teach someone else something, I have begun to learn a little myself about making Sundays set apart, different, and special.

When I was working outside the home, it felt pretty easy to "remember the Sabbath day."  I told my boss that I wasn't available to work on Sundays, and that was that.  The only challenge I ever received was the occasional guilt trip from my boss that she really wanted me to be available on Sundays. Easy.

Now that I have shifted to working as a stay-at-home mom, "remembering the Sabbath" has become a new challenge.  My primary job is that of raising little boys. Can you just imagine? Reading a book, changing a diaper, helping with play-doh, feeding hungry bellies... "Sorry, sweetie, but Mommy doesn't work on Sundays. Do you want to schedule that for tomorrow?"  NOT easy [or possible].

However, God has been challenging my motives for the things that I do on Sundays. Without the excuse of my outside work to cling to, he has opened my eyes to all the ways that I "work" on a day that is supposed to be devoted to him. I used to always do my grocery shopping on Sundays (it seemed to fit best into my schedule then). I used to get a jump start on the week's laundry on Sundays (there's always plenty of laundry around this house...and the washing machine does most of the work, right?)

So I don't do my grocery shopping on Sundays any more. Laundry also came off of the options of things to do on Sundays. I've also been working [hard] on staying off-line (no browsing or Facebooking or news article reading). I'm also trying to minimize the other chores I do around the house, from food prep to yard work.

To be honest, it is hard to give up those things. It seems like if I could just do a little bit, then I won't feel so behind on Monday. And I honestly struggle a bit during nap time, wondering, "What can I do now?" 

And then I remind myself that God will indeed be faithful to show me what to do, or rather, what he is doing. 

Yes, my soul, find rest in God;

my hope comes from him.

Psalm 65:5

Journeying

This morning, I left my house at 6:05. After much driving, walking, siting, riding, walking, shuffling, standing and sitting, I found my way back to my house by 9:51. Only this time, my feet are not on the ground. I am at the same spot on earth, but my perspective has drastically changed.

It was a little disturbing to think about all the traveling that I had already done this morning: a twenty minute car ride, a ninty minute train ride, a ten minute shuttle ride, and twenty minutes of a plane flight. All of that just to get me right back to where I began--it seems foolish and a little wasteful.

For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts. Isaiah 55:9

But, it was necessary, of course. I do not have an airplane in my driveway, nor would my cul-de-sac work well as a runway. For me to be on the path I currently am on (to visit my best friend who lives on the other side of the country), I needed to take those seemingly wasteful steps. That was a necessary part of my journey.

As I go about my work of raising little royalty, some days feel like wasteful steps. I wish that I could go straight from point A to point B, without traveling through point C (and D and E and F...) first. Some days, I wish I could help Noah move from cutesy Bible story pictures to real faith in his Savior, without first going through years of life experiences. Some days, I wish I could move Zeke's use of his strength from harmful to helpful, without first needing to coach him on how to control that strength often throughout each day.

It helps me to remember that each little step that I take with those boys is not wasted. Those little steps that seem backward at times, in time, will enable them to achieve a perspective that would not have been possible otherwise. This "growing up" is a necessary part of their journey.

 Theirs is a journey in which Dave and I have the privilege of participation.

So no matter how many times I have to say, "Were you talking to God or just loudly saying words?" or "Hands are not for hitting," it is critical for my attitude that I remember the journey that these boys are on. Even more critical is that I never fail to point them in the direction of their ultimate destination.

Show me your ways, Lord, teach me your paths. Guide me in your truth and teach me, for you are God my Savior. Psalm 25:4-5

Imperfect

When my firstborn son was born, he was perfect. The eyes, the little nose, the chin, the peach fuzz all over. I was enamored (and so thankful) for all of the perfect little intricate parts.

About two weeks later, a birthmark showed up on his left cheek.  And I felt like God put that birthmark there for me, as if to say, "This child is not perfect."

That was an important day for me, the day that I realized my son was not perfect.  He was handsome and precious and cute and wonderful, but not flawless.  My mind knew this, of course, but my heart was still holding on to the hope that my child, this child, would be perfect.

And God continues to show me how imperfect this child is: like the tantrum he threw immediately following our mom-and-son breakfast date this morning, or the nasty behavior last Thursday that made my blood boil.  

And I am so thankful for these imperfections.

For if he was perfect, I would become proud.  If he was perfect, I would begin to think more highly of him than I ought.  If he was perfect, I would lose compassion for other moms.  If he was perfect, I would not pray so often.

So I am thankful for the imperfections, because they help to teach me to focus on the One who is perfect and who promises to share perfection with us in eternity.

At the same time, they open the door for me to teach my little imperfect one that he is loved perfectly by his Father.

He is the Rock, his works are perfect,

and all his ways are just.

A faithful God who does no wrong,

upright and just is he.

Deuteronomy 32:4

Dream

My love and I like to go on dates where we drink coffee together. We also like to read together. It was on one of those recent evenings when we were reading while drinking coffee that we were encouraged by a devotion to "Dream Venti."  VENTI, as in BIG.

For starters, I am not a very good dreamer. When it came to trying to chose a career path, for example, I wanted someone else to just tell me what to do.  I was not the grad school student who dreamed of world peace or large-scale change.  I never grew up dreaming about the perfect wedding or planning my future children's names.  Perhaps I am too much of a pragmatist to give much weight to something that seems so flimsy.

And on days like today, dreaming seems way out of the question.  It took all of the energy I had this morning to just keep my sanity! Dreaming of something for the future that's out of my reach doesn't have much of a say when I feel as though I am surrounded by loud and demanding little boys. 

Perhaps that is why God has been slamming me with messages all week about dreaming big, like these:

"True dependence is not simply asking Me to bless what you have decided to do. It is coming to Me with an open mmd and heart, inviting Me to plant My desires within you. I may infuse within you a dream that seems far beyond your reach." Jesus Calling, Jan 5

"Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations" Ephesians 3:20-21

It's on days like today that I definitely need to be reminded that God has a plan, a dream for me that is far greater than getting a squirmy toddler to sit long enough so I can strap him into his carseat. He sees things much more important than the glass of apple juice that spilled on the floor.  I can easily get overwhelmed by these small things.  

I'd rather see my days, weeks and years through God's eyes than my own. I want to pursue those things that bring meaning to the BIG dream that's in my future. Today, I want to do what He's up to, not the meager things that I have planned for the next six hours.  I want to learn how to DREAM BIG, and how to follow those dreams.

I want to teach those loud and demanding little boys how to follow their Father. I want to foster the BIG dreams that God has already and will place in their hearts. I want to listen and follow more, and plan and obsess less. I want us to be a family that's willing to shed off the past, the comfy routines, and the obligatory engagements in order to pursue something really BIG.

"For we live by faith, not by sight." 2 Corinthians 5:7