Vacation

Dave and I and the boys just got back from our family summer vacation last week.  A family summer vacation must have been one of those unspoken rules for Dave and me: we've never discussed the pros and cons of vacationing; we just always assume we will. And since we do not live near either of our families, our vacations are synonymous with family time.

Credit: David Lange

This year, our vacation was to a wonderful place called the Copper Spur Ranch, middle of Nowhere, Colorado.  No cell phone service.  No internet.  No traffic.  No neighbors (except for those awesome friends who live 3 miles down the road).  No pressures.  No worries.

That's not to say that there's no work.  All 24 of us that gathered had a daily chore (from the 3 year old to the 74 year old).  We made meals, washed dishes, swept floors, fed animals, built fires, got water, painted walls.

That's not to say that there's nothing to do. In fact, there was often more to do than hours in the day.  We rode horses, drove four-wheelers, hiked a mountain, went running, explored the abandoned copper mines, played on an oversized teeter-totter, pet kittens, fished (without any luck), boated, swam, played cards, ate and snacked and ate some more.

A week like that leaves me feeling so refreshed (even though Zeke did not sleep through the nights).

I love the simplicity of a life that revolves around spending time with loved ones and doing the work that needs to be done to meet one's basic needs.  The generosity and love of my family humbles and encourages me.  The joy of conversation and old jokes brightens my perspective on life.

Tonight, I wonder how weeks like this last one affect the little boys that God has put in my care.  No doubt, Noah, my lover of all things outdoors, was in heaven.  He wished that we could have stayed for a "long, long, long, long time."  The uninhibited time in nature, the entertainment of cousins, the responsibility of ranch chores: these are all poignant to the heart and soul that God has placed in his little 3 year old body.  For Zeke, as the baby on the ranch, he had the attention of grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins from sun up to sun down.  Perhaps Zeke learned that the network of love that surrounds him is bigger than he's ever known.  Perhaps Noah got a glimpse into the complexity and diversity of the world that God has created.

For me, every time I get to be at the Copper Spur Ranch, I am reminded how small I am and how BIG God is.  One look up at the night sky, and I'm brought back to the reality that the universe is a big, big place.  And all of my "big" issues seem to melt away in the face of the Maker who is brilliant enough to put such a universe into being.  His network of love is bigger than I'll ever know and His complexity and diversity is too great for me to grasp.

The heavens proclaim the glory of God. The skies display his craftsmanship.

Day after day they continue to speak; night after night they make him known.

They speak without a sound or word; their voice is never heard.

Yet their message has gone throughout the earth, and their words to all the world.

Psalm 19:1-4 NLT

Life

I read this in my devotions this morning:

No one can redeem the life of another
or give to God a ransom for them--
so that they should live on forever
and not see decay.  (Psalm 49:7-8)

I was struck by the helplessness in this Psalm, and the candid talk about death. The writer goes on to say that both wise and fool alike, rich and poor the same, will one day make their graves their homes forever.  It is so harsh it caused me to pause.

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I was speaking with a coworker this evening.  She continues to mourn the death of her dad, which was close to a year ago.  The desire to have him back is so strong that it still brings tears.  She and her mom are still learning how to go about life without "Mac" in it.

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Death is a tricky thing.  I wish I could wrap my mind around it a little more.  I wish our culture wouldn't do so much to distort its reality.  I wish it would never take those I love.  I wish it would never cause pain in the lives of those I care about.

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Within the last week, two of my good friends from my Bible study group had babies.  I was blessed to visit both newborns within a day of them taking their first breath.  What a precious thing new LIFE is!  It is so incredible to hold such a small little person in your arms, to study their amazingly tiny features, and to wonder at all the things they will experience in the days and years ahead.

How does death fit in?

I'm blessed to spend my days at home with two very healthy and very active little boys (and one very healthy and active grown man for my husband!).  We are constantly exploring the world together, learning new things and testing boundaries (in both good and bad ways).  The wonder of LIFE seems endless: so many places to go, things to do, images to see, sounds to hear.

How does death fit in?

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Perhaps I struggle with understanding death because God never intended us to know it.  Perhaps it doesn't seem to fit into LIFE because it has never "belonged" there. Perhaps it causes such a hazard to daily life because it frays the fibers of community and family that God has so skillfully sown.

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Coincidentally, this morning, Noah helped me make Resurrection Rolls.  If you have no idea what I'm talking about or have never made them, you need to make them tomorrow morning.  They are so easy and so awesome.  And so delicious!  You take a marshmallow (representing Jesus), roll it in melted butter, roll it in cinnamon sugar, then wrap it up in a crescent roll (representing the tomb).  After you bake it, you pinch open the crescent roll to find that the marshmallow is no longer inside!  The "magic" makes kids giddy, and it captures a bit of the joy and awe that the witnesses must have had that first Easter, when they discovered that the grave would not be Jesus' home forever.

photo credit: truecouponing.com

Which brings me back to Psalm 49:

(verse 15)
But God will redeem me from the realm of the dead;
he will surely take me to himself.

I wish I could wrap my mind around this a little more.

God has erased the evil power of death.

I really don't have to worry about how death "fits in" because it's just a blip on the screen; it's a moment of transition from life to life.  It is part of our world.  It is part of the future history of every newborn child. But it is not the defining moment.  It is not the end.  It is just a part of the life that God gives us to live.

That is delicious.

Power

Where sin increased, grace abounded all the more, so that, as sin reigned in death, grace might also reign through righteousness leading to eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. Romans 5:20-21

My heart is heavy this evening.  One of my teen-aged girlfriends is feeling like God is absent in her life; she feels forgotten by God.  Among other things that are not going well right now, her relationship with her mom is rocky, because her mom is angry with her. 

My take-away: a mom has the power to make a child of the King forget their identity.

Driving home from work, with this news fresh on my heart, I was hit between the eyes with guilt.  How many times this last week have I been upset or angry with Noah?  How many times have we butted heads and how many times has my stern face and serious voice come out in full force? 

Yes, I know it is perfectly normal (and healthy) to be upset and angered.  Yes, I know it is right to discipline.  But how many times have I coupled those harsh and necessary actions with comfort and love, the very reason for those actions?

Not often enough, that's for sure.  Definitely not every time.  And yet, that is how God makes himself known to me.  EVERY time that I offend him, he gives me discipline and he gives me grace.  EVERY time.

Lord, this responsibility is too great for me.  I know that you have entrusted two young boys to my care, but I am incapable of showing them your love on my own. Be the love here.  Be gracious when I feel I cannot.  Be comfort when I don't know how.  Do a miracle in me, that the boys would see you, all of you, all the time, through me.  By your grace, let me never get in the way of them knowing you and your love for them.  When I mess up, show me.  When I fail, send someone who will succeed.  With every step, conversation, Yes and No, be my motivation and my guide.

Letting Go

I've officially begun my journey on what I'm sure is one of the hardest things about parenthood: letting go.

This afternoon, I picked Noah up from school, or pre-preschool, or whatever you would like to call it, and we headed straight for the park. With the beautiful weather, the extra hour of sunlight, and waiting on my husband to return to town from a meeting, it was the right formula for an hour of fresh air and running around.  As soon as we arrived, I noticed a change in our normal park routine.  Noah was not asking me to help him climb up the stairs, nor was he interested in racing down slides together.  He was confidently doing things on his own and interacting with the other kids who were there (and I am so thankful he can do these things).  I was beginning to wonder, however, if he even noticed I was still at the park with him.  So I sat down close to the play structure, made faces at Zeke who was in my lap, and waited for Noah to look my way.  And waited.  And waited.  I got a glance.  And then I waited some more.  (Finally, his nose was so runny that I initiated a conversation so I could clean him up!)  Sheesh, kid, don't you care that I'm here??

I understood his behavior at the park perfectly well.  He had just come from a classroom of kids where he was one of fifteen children led by only two or three adults.  He was in the mindset of doing things on his own and doing the "work" of playing with other kids.  But that did not lessen my desire for him to want to play with me, to be close to me.

Alas, the job of a parent.

I can only imagine what this looks like at 16. 

More than that, I can only imagine how our Heavenly Father feels when we go off and do our own thing without giving our time with him so much as a second thought.  We give him an occasional glance just to make sure he's still around, and then we keep on doing whatever we were wrapped up in doing before.  Our "playground" is enticing, and it is where he has placed us, but so often we see the playground as the purpose, when really the purpose all along is for us to spend time with Him.

I'm guilty of being the kid who's too wrapped up in what's going on to notice the reason for the occasion.  But still, God is always there.  He waits.  And waits. And waits.  And when I need cleaning up, he initiates and shows his love and care.  And then he waits some more.  

That is amazing love. That is what constantly draws me back into my Father's arms. That is what I want to show my boys.

After about 20 minutes at the park, Noah chose to play with me: swinging "as high as a bird" and hide-and-seek were on the menu today.  I can't speak for him, but it was joy for this parent's heart.

Live as people who are free, not using your freedom as a cover-up for evil, but living as servants of God. 1 Peter 2:16

Glimpses

As I stepped into the boys' room this evening to put Zeke in his crib, I was given the gift of a glimpse of the beautiful: the love between a daddy and his boy. There was Dave, sound asleep on the floor right next to Noah's little toddler bed, with his arm resting on the side of the bed. And there was Noah, fast asleep, with his daddy's fingers in his grip.

I'm praying tonight that I would fall asleep hanging on to the hand of my Father.

Real

Noah has entered full-bore into the wonderful world of pretend.  On Monday, for example: his friend, Ty, was playing Legos with him, Grandma Sharon and Grandpa Chuck were having dinner with us, and Mr. Steve (our friend who is a firefighter) climbed up his ladder to reach the kitchen counter so he could talk to me. The mind of a two-and-a-half-year-old is an interesting, curious and cooky place to be.

I wonder how he actually sees the world.  He can get pretty wrapped up in pretend.  Do his eyes "see" what he pretends? Does he cognitively switch back and forth between his worlds, or is it more of a fluid mix of the two?



The other day, we were driving in the car, and Noah said, "I love Santa."  In our house, we down-play the Santa card.  So I asked him, "Is Santa real or pretend?"  "Pretend," said Noah matter-of-factly.  I was so proud that we had such a smart little boy.  Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall. Proverbs 16:18.  A few seconds later, Noah continued, "And I love Jesus."  "Me, too, Noah," I replied. "Is Jesus real or pretend?" "Pretend," he said matter-of-factly. I made sure to correct him.

How can I best teach my boys about a real, living God who is also invisible? How can I distinguish the stories of the Bible from the stories of Curious George and songs of praise from nursery rhymes?  I know that this will be my quest for as long as the boys and I live. This is not one of those things that you learn once in Kindergarten and know for the rest of your life. I know of high school students who wonder if the Bible is indeed all true. Just a few years ago, I struggled to come to grips with whether God was "real or pretend." (A story I'd be happy to share.)

The best witness I have seen for my God is his work, his miracles, his answers to prayers. Our words have power:  when we open and share our real experiences (good and bad and definitely not perfect) and the real way that God has been active in our lives, those around us, especially our kids, will be able to "see" that he is REAL.


Since my youth, God, you have taught me, and to this day I declare your marvelous deeds.    Even when I am old and gray, do not forsake me, my God, till I declare your power to the next generation, your mighty acts to all who are to come. Psalm 71:17-18

Anger

My mom thinks that Zeke has an unhealthy dose of anger.  If that little sixteen weekold wakes up from a nap hungry, and I'm not ready to feed him right away, wach out.  He gets red in the face, and oh, that face.  you would think that the once precious little features were taken over by a movie make-up artist: distirted and intense.  His cry quickly elevates to a scream, loud and commanding of the entire house. He's usually so upset that even after I begin feeding him, he stays mad until the milk hits his stomach.  Perhaps she's right.

Noah gets angry too, of course.  I'm convinced that those terrible twos are just as frustrating for him as they are for Dave and me. When Noah gets upset, he'll usually knock something over, and then his tears set in.  He's got to cry it out to release his frustration.  He usually chooses to retreat to his room for a short minute before he's ready to return and re-engage in the situation or conversation (and have the snot and tears wiped off his face).

Typically, I don't get angered very easily.  However, I had a situation arise this week that has made me very angry.  My heart races; my blood heats up; I fidget; my emotions rush to my head, right to that point behind my eyes.  And if someone makes me talk when I'm in this state, tears stream down my face and I can't get my words to make any sound over my weeping.  I really hate the helpless and disempowered feeling I have when I'm angry.  I don't like being angry.

And yet, this is a part of the person God made when he made me... when he made Noah... when he made Zeke.  I draw wisdom from King David: when he was angry, he cried out to God about it (and wrote a psalm to accompany the cry).

From Psalm 13:2-6

How long must I wrestle with my thoughts

 and day after day have sorrow in my heart?

How long will my enemy triumph over me?

Look on me and answer, Lord my God.

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

and my enemy will say, “I have overcome him,”

and my foes will rejoice when I fall.

But I trust in your unfailing love;

my heart rejoices in your salvation.

I will sing the Lord’s praise,

for he has been good to me.

Psalm 71:1-4

I run to you, Lord, for protection.

    Don’t disappoint me.

2 

You do what is right, so come to my rescue.

    Listen to my prayer and keep me safe.

3 

Be my mighty rock,

    the place where I can always run for protection.

Save me by your command!

    You are my mighty rock and my fortress.

And Psalm 64:1,10

Hear me, my God, as I voice my complaint;

    protect my life from the threat of the enemy.

The righteous will rejoice in the Lord

    and take refuge in him;

    all the upright in heart will glory in him!

I pray that I would learn to always turn to God as David did, trusting and ever hopeful.  And I desire to teach my boys to do the same.