Ezra fell down the stairs yesterday.
I heard him crying as I was changing out of my church clothes and in a moment of panic, wondered if I had forgotten to shut the door to the basement after laying Jonas down for a nap.
Coming around the corner into the kitchen and realizing that the door was indeed open was one of the scariest moments of my life.
I ran. I ran so fast that I don't remember how I reached him. I only remember the way I felt. I picked him up and held him close and checked him all over.
I was shaking and crying and terrified.
He was fine. Truly, I'm not sure how, but he was and is completely fine.
I, on the other hand, remained a mess. I ripped myself apart with thoughts of my incompetency as a mother. I felt like the worst mom in the world, negligent and forgetful and guilty.
The only counselor I ever saw pinpointed me from the very beginning: "You are way too hard on yourself, Gretchen." This was one of those moments. I curled into myself and fixated on my failure.
I felt sick all afternoon. The "what-if's" and "what-could-have-been's" terrorized me. I allowed them to. Logically, I knew that Ezra was okay. I knew that he was safe and healthy and perfectly perfect. Yet I was allowing my thoughts to reek complete havoc on my peace.
Then there came a moment of decision for me. I was watching a video of our worship experience yesterday morning at church. The worship that day was powerful, anointed, and broke some chains off of me. As I re-experienced that moment via video, one of the lyrics jumped out at me: "You rescued me so I could stand and sing, I am a child of God".
Rescue. I knew that God had rescued my boy, again. I knew that with my whole being. I just didn't know why. Then, in that moment, it hit me. God is rescuing Ezra for Himself and some greater purpose that I cannot yet fathom. Something in me just knows it. I don't need to fear losing a boy that God seems intent to rescue.
Even in my failure, I cannot break what God intends to keep whole.
I knew then that I had a choice to make. I could keep ruminating on what could have happened, or what could happen the next time I forget to do something important. I could tie myself up in knots with question after question, the worst case scenarios building a grim future for my life.
Or I could choose to see God's mercy in the situation. I could see His saving hand and pour out my gratitude to Him. I could laugh in wonder at the amazing protection that God has ordered for my precocious Ezra. That was a moment of distinction for me:
Choosing to see God's protection in my failure.
Choosing to see God's protection, and not my failure.
Choosing to see God's protection.
And then thanking Him with all I have.
A couple of nights ago, we were visiting my aunt and uncle who live on a beautiful piece of land in Canton. They have an adorable golden retriever named Jack, who is still quite puppy-like in his behavior. Jack is sweet and energetic and BIG. My boys love dogs, but they are not used to dogs that big. So when Jack bounced around with them, barking, they got scared. They ran. Jack, who thought they were playing, ran after them. This caused terrified screams and cries from their cute little faces.
There was one time in particular that Finn was running from Jack, screaming. Matt called out to him, "Finn! Finn! Just run to me!" Matt knew that if Finn would run to him, then he would be able to protect him. He would handle the dog and keep Finn safe. When Finn kept running farther and faster away, it was difficult for Matt to do anything. He needed Finn close to protect him.
However, Finn couldn't hear his daddy calling. The dog was too close and the barking was too loud. Those teeth were too big and the situation was too scary. So he cried and screamed, powerless to do much else.
This was such a vivid example to me of how God responds to us in the barking chaos of our lives. When circumstances are overwhelming, He calls out to us to come close, to draw near. He wants to enclose us in the shadow of His wing so that He can better protect us. Yet sometimes the noise and the size of our circumstances just drowns out the voice of our Father and Protector. In our fear, we end up running further away from Him Who alone can help us.
Ezra falling down the stairs was life barking at me. Barking at me about my greatest fears and my most intimate failures.
When I drew close through prayer, it was then that God could speak the words that would restore my peace and dismantle my anxiety. I could have spent many days tied up in knots and broken over what almost happened. I know myself enough to know that I could have spiraled into a hole of fear and guilt.
God is speaking. He is always speaking. I choose to stay close to Him so I can hear Him above everything else and so that He can handle the noisy dogs of life for me. Dogs chase and bark, but God draws and whispers. Dogs will demand our attention but God will invite it.
It takes desire and true intention to focus on God over the chaos of our circumstances. But when we do, we will find a Father willing and capable to protect.
Showing posts with label Finn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Finn. Show all posts
Monday, September 19, 2016
Friday, July 15, 2016
Be Still and Start Moving
It has been a tough summer for me. God has been chiseling away at any place in my life where I have sought a safe place, other than Him. Relationships. Health. Ministry. Food. Finances. Relationships (again and again and again).
At times it has felt less like chiseling and more like God was using a machete to hack away whole parts of my safe havens.
And like chiseling (and hacking) tend to be, it's been painful. There have been tears. There have been angry prayers to God. There have been awful emotional reactions. There has been listening, learning, and waiting.
I think, I think, I'm maybe kinda sorta starting to get a bit of the gist of it. Perhaps.
Sometimes answers come immediately. Some take their sweet time, like an old person driving around on a Sunday afternoon.
It is so easy to get frustrated and impatient in the waiting.
"God? Hello? You're still listening, right?"
There are a couple of different ways that I have tried to navigate this chiseling season.
1. Following my own instincts
We visited Matt's parents over Easter. Once I laid the younger boys down for a nap, I seized the opportunity to get some alone time with my oldest. We went "adventuring", which included throwing rocks in the river, walking the trails, and getting a little bit lost. I knew the way back to the house, but Finn wasn't so sure. Yet, since he's a 5 year old boy, he insisted on leading. He led us well, trusting his instincts and his memory. I complimented him at one point on doing a good job and he spoke, in true Finn fashion, "Your Finny is like a superhero. I can sniff the way home. Like a superhero dog."
I let him lead, because he insisted upon it. But I knew the way to our destination; if he got too far off track, I could always take control and redirect. So we meandered a bit, but still reached home. If I had led the way home, we would have gotten there quicker. But 5 year old boys really like to lead the way.
Adults like to lead the way sometimes too. We think we know best, and we don't always like to be told what to do or where to go. We know what we want and we are pretty sure that we know how to get it. So we take off and charge toward the goal line. The good news is that when we belong to God, He watches over our way. When we get too far off course, He resets our steps. In His mercy, He gives us the freedom to make decisions and in His love He helps us stay on the path to our destination.
We sometimes try to sniff our way home, not unlike a superhero dog, and expect God to bless wherever we end up.
Those who follow their instincts will try to look ahead to worst case scenarios and manipulate and control all the variables so things are in their favor. They try to manage all factors.
But there's another way, an arguably quicker way to reach our destination.
2. Follow the Leader
I was paying attention to the band a few weeks ago during worship. I rarely ever do this, so it was eye opening to me. It's no secret that Matt is a free flow in worship kind of guy. Most of the people on the worship team have played with Matt a long time and they know his signals very well. They know when his foot starts thumping, things are only getting started. When he backs away from the mic, keep it rolling and stay where you are. When the head nods, begin the new song. In those moments of free flow they are fully tuned in on him, as the leader, to tell them where to go next in the song. If one of them were to stop paying attention, that one could miss an important cue. Their eyes are on him, and they follow him. They trust his leadership.
Those who follow the leader focus on playing their part well and watching for their leader's cues. They study their leader to know the cues better. It's a sweet mix of watching, waiting, and acting.
One of my favorite verses for a long time was Exodus 14:14: "The Lord is fighting for you. You need only to be still!". I was in a season of transition when I clung to that promise. I would speak it to myself frequently to be encouraged in the face of the unknown.
One thing I didn't do at the time was read and study the surrounding text. In this passage of Scripture, Moses has led the Israelite people to the edge of the Red Sea. They are accosting him and accusing him, desiring to return to the chains of Egypt instead of pursuing the vast unknown. They preferred a safe cage to the arms of God. I would judge them for it, but I'm too busy identifying with them.
Here's what I missed years ago: right after Moses reminded the Israelites that God is fighting for them and to just relax, God responds: "Then the Lord said to Moses, 'Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to start moving." (v 15).
Er, God, what is it? Be still or start moving?
Both.
The 'being still' has to do with our thoughts and emotions. It stops them before they take over and we act and react to whatever we feel. If it had been up to the Israelites, they would have returned to Egypt and lived in slavery.....out of fear.
The 'start moving' has to do with stepping out in faith, taking the next step that God shows you. If the Israelites had never taken that next step, they would have missed the spectacular experience of God dividing the Red Sea, for their freedom. "Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea. All that night the Lord pushed back the sea with a strong east wind and turned the sea into dry ground. The water divided, and the Israelites went through the middle of the sea on dry ground. The water stood like a wall on their right and on their left." (vv. 21-22).
As we follow God's leading, we need to do our best to stay calm. That doesn't mean never crying or never praying to God in anger. It means rehearsing His faithfulness and the amazing things He's already done for you. It means remembering His goodness and the millions of times He's shown His love to you. It means being aware of His power and promises and the fact that He can change your situation in a moment and WILL change it if and when it needs to be changed. Until then, it's knowing He's got you.
But we also need to keep our feet moving. We cannot sit around and wait, letting our gifts sit idle or others' needs unmet. We keep our eyes on Him for cues, and we walk, knowing He will direct us.
The thing with waiting on God's timing is that it cannot be rushed or manipulated.
But it can absolutely, 100%, all the time, be trusted.
"Protect me, O God, because I take refuge in you. I said to the Lord, 'You are my Lord. Without you, I have nothing good.' Those who lead holy lives on earth are the noble ones who fill me with joy. Those who quickly chase after other gods multiply their sorrows. I will not pour out their sacrificial offerings of blood or use my lips to speak their names. The Lord is my inheritance and my cup. You are the one who determines my destiny. Your boundary lines mark out pleasant places for me. Indeed, my inheritance is something beautiful. I will praise the Lord, who advises me. My conscience warns me at night. I always keep the Lord in front of me. When he is by my side, I cannot be moved. That is why my heart is glad and my soul rejoices. My body rests securely because you do not abandon my soul to the grave or allow your holy one to decay. You make the path of life known to me. Complete joy is in your presence. Pleasures are by your side forever." Psalm 16
At times it has felt less like chiseling and more like God was using a machete to hack away whole parts of my safe havens.
And like chiseling (and hacking) tend to be, it's been painful. There have been tears. There have been angry prayers to God. There have been awful emotional reactions. There has been listening, learning, and waiting.
I think, I think, I'm maybe kinda sorta starting to get a bit of the gist of it. Perhaps.
Sometimes answers come immediately. Some take their sweet time, like an old person driving around on a Sunday afternoon.
It is so easy to get frustrated and impatient in the waiting.
"God? Hello? You're still listening, right?"
There are a couple of different ways that I have tried to navigate this chiseling season.
1. Following my own instincts
We visited Matt's parents over Easter. Once I laid the younger boys down for a nap, I seized the opportunity to get some alone time with my oldest. We went "adventuring", which included throwing rocks in the river, walking the trails, and getting a little bit lost. I knew the way back to the house, but Finn wasn't so sure. Yet, since he's a 5 year old boy, he insisted on leading. He led us well, trusting his instincts and his memory. I complimented him at one point on doing a good job and he spoke, in true Finn fashion, "Your Finny is like a superhero. I can sniff the way home. Like a superhero dog."
Adults like to lead the way sometimes too. We think we know best, and we don't always like to be told what to do or where to go. We know what we want and we are pretty sure that we know how to get it. So we take off and charge toward the goal line. The good news is that when we belong to God, He watches over our way. When we get too far off course, He resets our steps. In His mercy, He gives us the freedom to make decisions and in His love He helps us stay on the path to our destination.
We sometimes try to sniff our way home, not unlike a superhero dog, and expect God to bless wherever we end up.
Those who follow their instincts will try to look ahead to worst case scenarios and manipulate and control all the variables so things are in their favor. They try to manage all factors.
But there's another way, an arguably quicker way to reach our destination.
2. Follow the Leader
I was paying attention to the band a few weeks ago during worship. I rarely ever do this, so it was eye opening to me. It's no secret that Matt is a free flow in worship kind of guy. Most of the people on the worship team have played with Matt a long time and they know his signals very well. They know when his foot starts thumping, things are only getting started. When he backs away from the mic, keep it rolling and stay where you are. When the head nods, begin the new song. In those moments of free flow they are fully tuned in on him, as the leader, to tell them where to go next in the song. If one of them were to stop paying attention, that one could miss an important cue. Their eyes are on him, and they follow him. They trust his leadership.
Those who follow the leader focus on playing their part well and watching for their leader's cues. They study their leader to know the cues better. It's a sweet mix of watching, waiting, and acting.
One of my favorite verses for a long time was Exodus 14:14: "The Lord is fighting for you. You need only to be still!". I was in a season of transition when I clung to that promise. I would speak it to myself frequently to be encouraged in the face of the unknown.
One thing I didn't do at the time was read and study the surrounding text. In this passage of Scripture, Moses has led the Israelite people to the edge of the Red Sea. They are accosting him and accusing him, desiring to return to the chains of Egypt instead of pursuing the vast unknown. They preferred a safe cage to the arms of God. I would judge them for it, but I'm too busy identifying with them.
Here's what I missed years ago: right after Moses reminded the Israelites that God is fighting for them and to just relax, God responds: "Then the Lord said to Moses, 'Why are you crying out to me? Tell the Israelites to start moving." (v 15).
Er, God, what is it? Be still or start moving?
Both.
The 'being still' has to do with our thoughts and emotions. It stops them before they take over and we act and react to whatever we feel. If it had been up to the Israelites, they would have returned to Egypt and lived in slavery.....out of fear.
The 'start moving' has to do with stepping out in faith, taking the next step that God shows you. If the Israelites had never taken that next step, they would have missed the spectacular experience of God dividing the Red Sea, for their freedom. "Then Moses stretched out his hand over the sea. All that night the Lord pushed back the sea with a strong east wind and turned the sea into dry ground. The water divided, and the Israelites went through the middle of the sea on dry ground. The water stood like a wall on their right and on their left." (vv. 21-22).
As we follow God's leading, we need to do our best to stay calm. That doesn't mean never crying or never praying to God in anger. It means rehearsing His faithfulness and the amazing things He's already done for you. It means remembering His goodness and the millions of times He's shown His love to you. It means being aware of His power and promises and the fact that He can change your situation in a moment and WILL change it if and when it needs to be changed. Until then, it's knowing He's got you.
But we also need to keep our feet moving. We cannot sit around and wait, letting our gifts sit idle or others' needs unmet. We keep our eyes on Him for cues, and we walk, knowing He will direct us.
The thing with waiting on God's timing is that it cannot be rushed or manipulated.
But it can absolutely, 100%, all the time, be trusted.
"Protect me, O God, because I take refuge in you. I said to the Lord, 'You are my Lord. Without you, I have nothing good.' Those who lead holy lives on earth are the noble ones who fill me with joy. Those who quickly chase after other gods multiply their sorrows. I will not pour out their sacrificial offerings of blood or use my lips to speak their names. The Lord is my inheritance and my cup. You are the one who determines my destiny. Your boundary lines mark out pleasant places for me. Indeed, my inheritance is something beautiful. I will praise the Lord, who advises me. My conscience warns me at night. I always keep the Lord in front of me. When he is by my side, I cannot be moved. That is why my heart is glad and my soul rejoices. My body rests securely because you do not abandon my soul to the grave or allow your holy one to decay. You make the path of life known to me. Complete joy is in your presence. Pleasures are by your side forever." Psalm 16
Saturday, June 18, 2016
Fatherhood
I was newly pregnant and very hormonal when Matt leaned over to me in the middle of a church service and said, "I hope that our baby is a little girl, because I want to be the daddy to her that you never had."
In that moment, every emotion in my body tried to punch its way out of my body at the same time. It was powerful and memorable.
We have never had that little girl we thought we would.
But on this Father's Day weekend, if there was one thing I could say to my husband, it would be:
He has been that daddy to our boys.
He is present.
I asked Finn today what is his favorite thing about his daddy. He said, "I love that he wrestles and plays and swims and flies a kite with me. And that he lets me go to church with him at rest time sometimes."
It is Matt's presence that matters to his son(s).
In all of my experiences with fathers, I realize more and more that so much of fatherhood is presentness.
And not simply being in the same room. But being present with one's presence.
I could sit in the same room with someone for 5 hours, staring at a tv, and not feel like I matter at all.
But give me 10 minutes of invested conversation, and my value goes through the roof.
I have been reading in Exodus lately. At the beginning of chapter 26, God outlines the blessings that he longs to give to His people (vv. 3-13).
In these verses, God promises immense blessings if His people obey Him.
He promises fertility in the land (vv. 4-5, 10)
He promises living in safety in the land (v. 5)
He promises removal of dangerous animals and of the sword (v. 6)
He promises victory (v.7)
He promises His favor (v. 9)
When I was reading this the other day, I caught a glimpse of God's Father heart towards us.
The essence of these verses show the role a father ideally plays for his children: provision, peace, and protection.
Lastly, and most beautifully, God promises His presence: "I will place My residence among you, and I will not reject you. I will walk among you and be your God, and you will be my people." (v 11-12).
God's ultimate promise to bless us was His Presence.
This leads me to believe that God's plan for earthly fathers is to provide their children with the same:
Provision. Peace. Protection. Presence.
Fatherhood at its fullest:
- teaches
- leads
- disciplines
- invests
- asks questions
- notices what is unsaid
- provides
- brings peace
- protects
- SHOWS UP DOG TIRED AND SELFISHLY WANTING TO REST BUT POURS FORTH THE LAST BIT OF WHAT HE HAS SO THAT HIS CHILD KNOWS THEY ARE LOVED, VALUED, AND TREASURED.
Simply being present with one's presence makes all the difference, however much of it one have to give.
Fatherhood is presentness.
In that moment, every emotion in my body tried to punch its way out of my body at the same time. It was powerful and memorable.
We have never had that little girl we thought we would.
But on this Father's Day weekend, if there was one thing I could say to my husband, it would be:
He has been that daddy to our boys.
He is present.
I asked Finn today what is his favorite thing about his daddy. He said, "I love that he wrestles and plays and swims and flies a kite with me. And that he lets me go to church with him at rest time sometimes."
It is Matt's presence that matters to his son(s).
In all of my experiences with fathers, I realize more and more that so much of fatherhood is presentness.
And not simply being in the same room. But being present with one's presence.
I could sit in the same room with someone for 5 hours, staring at a tv, and not feel like I matter at all.
But give me 10 minutes of invested conversation, and my value goes through the roof.
I have been reading in Exodus lately. At the beginning of chapter 26, God outlines the blessings that he longs to give to His people (vv. 3-13).
In these verses, God promises immense blessings if His people obey Him.
He promises fertility in the land (vv. 4-5, 10)
He promises living in safety in the land (v. 5)
He promises removal of dangerous animals and of the sword (v. 6)
He promises victory (v.7)
He promises His favor (v. 9)
When I was reading this the other day, I caught a glimpse of God's Father heart towards us.
The essence of these verses show the role a father ideally plays for his children: provision, peace, and protection.
Lastly, and most beautifully, God promises His presence: "I will place My residence among you, and I will not reject you. I will walk among you and be your God, and you will be my people." (v 11-12).
God's ultimate promise to bless us was His Presence.
This leads me to believe that God's plan for earthly fathers is to provide their children with the same:
Provision. Peace. Protection. Presence.
Fatherhood at its fullest:
- teaches
- leads
- disciplines
- invests
- asks questions
- notices what is unsaid
- provides
- brings peace
- protects
- SHOWS UP DOG TIRED AND SELFISHLY WANTING TO REST BUT POURS FORTH THE LAST BIT OF WHAT HE HAS SO THAT HIS CHILD KNOWS THEY ARE LOVED, VALUED, AND TREASURED.
Simply being present with one's presence makes all the difference, however much of it one have to give.
Fatherhood is presentness.
Wednesday, April 6, 2016
How to See Others
We all feel a little invisible from time to time. Whether we're drowning in schoolwork or diapers or meetings, sometimes the things that we love and work hard for are the very same things that cause us to feel a little erased.
We can be in a crowd of thousands and still not feel seen.
Encouragement is an act of seeing others.
I used to be afraid to encourage others. It felt uncomfortable and awkward. I would see all of these wonderful, amazing things about other people, but would not speak it out. It felt like risking too much to speak it out; it exposed my inner world in a way that made me feel too vulnerable.
The older I get and the more I go through my own seasons of feeling invisible, the more I realize the absolute necessity of encouragement. Encouragement is a breath of fresh air, a hand lifting another up, and a salve for a hurting soul. The right word at the right time can make all the difference.
I have come to know the truth that when I see something awesome in another person, it is not mine to withhold, but a gift to give.
"Watch the way you talk. Let nothing foul or dirty come out of your mouth. Say only what helps, each word a gift." - Ephesians 4:29
When I see something great in someone else but choose to withhold it, it only makes me feel smaller. It makes me pick myself apart more, not less.
But when I speak it, it expands my ability to love and be loved. The more I do it, the easier it becomes.
"So then, we must pursue what promotes peace and what builds up one another." - Romans 14:19
My boys are learning the art of encouragement and it can get pretty hilarious at times! So hilarious in fact, that they serve as excellent examples of encouragement that doesn't exactly encourage.
The other day Finn said to me, "Mommy, you're the prettiest girl...in our family."
I laughed at his sweetness and said, "I'm the only girl in our family!" He just shrugged his shoulders. His heart was in the right place, but the encouragement fell a little short. It was honest and well-intentioned, maybe a little too honest? It was kind, but didn't exactly help me feel special. I believe true encouragement calls out something specific in another person. It recognizes gifts and goodness that God put into a person, and for a moment it is seeing a person through God's perspective, with all of the hope and purpose and love with which He packaged them.
Now Jonas, my little sweetheart in every sense, is a natural encourager. It is a gifting I already see growing in him. Any time I give him a compliment, he shoots it right back to me. This is a daily occurrence in our home:
"Jonas, you're the best boy in the whole world!" (I say this to all my boys...sssssh!) And without fail, Jonas smiles back, "You're best boy in the whole world too, Mommy!"
Uhhhh, thanks?! Encouragement like this rings a little insincere. It is spouted off quickly with little thought or intention. It can almost make the receiver feel like the person saying it doesn't really know her at all.
Then there's Ezra. He's a baby, so he doesn't talk yet :) . But for example's sake, he doesn't encourage others at all. Every positive thing about other people is met by him with silence. This is the very worst kind of encouragement because it is that which is not spoken. It is the kind that festers within the mind of the one who could have given a great gift. The encouragements that are not spoken block the light from entering someone's day.
We can be in a crowd of thousands and still not feel seen.
Encouragement is an act of seeing others.
I used to be afraid to encourage others. It felt uncomfortable and awkward. I would see all of these wonderful, amazing things about other people, but would not speak it out. It felt like risking too much to speak it out; it exposed my inner world in a way that made me feel too vulnerable.
The older I get and the more I go through my own seasons of feeling invisible, the more I realize the absolute necessity of encouragement. Encouragement is a breath of fresh air, a hand lifting another up, and a salve for a hurting soul. The right word at the right time can make all the difference.
I have come to know the truth that when I see something awesome in another person, it is not mine to withhold, but a gift to give.
"Watch the way you talk. Let nothing foul or dirty come out of your mouth. Say only what helps, each word a gift." - Ephesians 4:29
When I see something great in someone else but choose to withhold it, it only makes me feel smaller. It makes me pick myself apart more, not less.
But when I speak it, it expands my ability to love and be loved. The more I do it, the easier it becomes.
"So then, we must pursue what promotes peace and what builds up one another." - Romans 14:19
My boys are learning the art of encouragement and it can get pretty hilarious at times! So hilarious in fact, that they serve as excellent examples of encouragement that doesn't exactly encourage.
The other day Finn said to me, "Mommy, you're the prettiest girl...in our family."
I laughed at his sweetness and said, "I'm the only girl in our family!" He just shrugged his shoulders. His heart was in the right place, but the encouragement fell a little short. It was honest and well-intentioned, maybe a little too honest? It was kind, but didn't exactly help me feel special. I believe true encouragement calls out something specific in another person. It recognizes gifts and goodness that God put into a person, and for a moment it is seeing a person through God's perspective, with all of the hope and purpose and love with which He packaged them.
Now Jonas, my little sweetheart in every sense, is a natural encourager. It is a gifting I already see growing in him. Any time I give him a compliment, he shoots it right back to me. This is a daily occurrence in our home:
"Jonas, you're the best boy in the whole world!" (I say this to all my boys...sssssh!) And without fail, Jonas smiles back, "You're best boy in the whole world too, Mommy!"
Uhhhh, thanks?! Encouragement like this rings a little insincere. It is spouted off quickly with little thought or intention. It can almost make the receiver feel like the person saying it doesn't really know her at all.
Then there's Ezra. He's a baby, so he doesn't talk yet :) . But for example's sake, he doesn't encourage others at all. Every positive thing about other people is met by him with silence. This is the very worst kind of encouragement because it is that which is not spoken. It is the kind that festers within the mind of the one who could have given a great gift. The encouragements that are not spoken block the light from entering someone's day.
What isn't spoken out, dies with you.
Fortunately, my boys have a phenomenal daddy to teach them. A few weeks ago, Matt stayed home with the boys while I had a full day of counseling groups and a women's leadership meeting. I popped in to nurse Ezra, then popped right back out. He was in charge of every meal, every diaper change, every mess clean up.
When I walked in the door that night, he's collapsed on the couch. He looks at me with tears coming to his eyes and says, "I don't know how you do it. I could never be a stay at home dad. You love us so well, and you do such an amazing job caring for our boys. Even when you think you don't handle situations well and get frustrated too easily, that's not true at all. You are very patient. I appreciate you so much."
His words were so sincere and specific, my heart melted in a puddle and tears came to my own eyes as well. You can tell encouragement is accurate and timely when it shows all over the receiver's face. All I could say in response was, "Thank you. That means so much to hear!"
I felt more seen that day than I had in a long time.
I encourage you to encourage others, as kind thoughts about them enter your mind, speak them. Let the person know that you see them.
You might just change someone's day.
"Show family affection to one another with brotherly love. Outdo one another in showing honor." - Romans 12:10
Fortunately, my boys have a phenomenal daddy to teach them. A few weeks ago, Matt stayed home with the boys while I had a full day of counseling groups and a women's leadership meeting. I popped in to nurse Ezra, then popped right back out. He was in charge of every meal, every diaper change, every mess clean up.
When I walked in the door that night, he's collapsed on the couch. He looks at me with tears coming to his eyes and says, "I don't know how you do it. I could never be a stay at home dad. You love us so well, and you do such an amazing job caring for our boys. Even when you think you don't handle situations well and get frustrated too easily, that's not true at all. You are very patient. I appreciate you so much."
His words were so sincere and specific, my heart melted in a puddle and tears came to my own eyes as well. You can tell encouragement is accurate and timely when it shows all over the receiver's face. All I could say in response was, "Thank you. That means so much to hear!"
I felt more seen that day than I had in a long time.
I encourage you to encourage others, as kind thoughts about them enter your mind, speak them. Let the person know that you see them.
You might just change someone's day.
"Show family affection to one another with brotherly love. Outdo one another in showing honor." - Romans 12:10
Sunday, August 9, 2015
Gratitude, the Fair, and My Nostrils
I woke up this morning grateful to be able to breathe through my nose. It's something I take for granted too often, these nostrils of mine. But they really are a gift! Like, they just work, open for my breathing pleasure, and I don't have to think twice about it. Miraculous!
The past few days, my nostrils were not working so well. They were totally and completely clogged, congesting my breathing and causing my eyes to spring forth tears like a plentiful fountain. Many times did I protest in that time, "I JUST WANT TO BREATHE!"
I woke up this morning, breathing, beautifully breathing through my nose. It was fabulous, and I actually thanked God for nostrils. I'm not usually cognizant of my gratefulness for nostrils, in fact, I almost always take them for granted.
Being taken for granted is something most parents understand all too well. All of the little things we do on a daily basis go completely unnoticed. Shoot, many of the BIG things we do go unnoticed and thereby unappreciated.
This past week we took our boys to the fair for the first time. We figured Finn would love the rides and Jonas would love the food. Sure enough, the first couple of rides, Finn's face was a bright beam of sunshine and he excitedly and sweetly waited for the next ride.
But then something peculiar happened. Instead of lavishing us in thanks and adoration for the fun time he was having, he began to get a little greedy. He began taking the whole experience for granted. Suddenly his sweet, eager waiting became sour, impatient whining. He became picky about which rides to go on, begging us for whatever looked like the next big thrill.
We had to say "no" to a lot in that stretch of time. Every "no" was for his good.
"No" to the sleazy pirate fun house.
"No" to the funky looking roller coaster.
"No" to the spinning craziness his daddy can't bear to ride with him.
Eventually, due to tiredness or overstimulation or what have you, our boy was a crying, screaming, demanding spectacle. Long gone was the bright-eyed boy who was eager just to get to ride any ride. The joy was gone, the thrill was gone, the gratitude was gone.
It was evident to me in that moment exactly why gratitude is so important to God.
When Jesus healed the 10 lepers and only one returned to thank him (Luke 17), he most certainly noticed, asking, "Were not ten cleansed? Where are the other nine?" The one who returned received a special blessing.
Without gratitude, we become spoiled brats: looking for the next thrill to get our adrenaline pumping, demanding the next big thing as though we deserve it, and forgetting that there is a gracious Hand behind it all.
Like the Israelites after their dramatic rescue from the Egyptians, we begin to whine and complain and focus on all that we do not have.
We take our eyes off of the God who parted the Red Sea for us and center our attention on ourselves.
When we forget to be grateful for the abundance of things He's already given us (breathing through one's nose, for example), we become instantly greedy for the next big blessing. "More, more, more!" becomes the cry of our heart, rather than the quiet beauty and strength of a soul surrendered to Him.
Choosing to be grateful puts us in proper relationship to God, humble before Him, acknowledging that every good thing is directly from His hand and out of His love for us.
It is remembering all that He has already done, the many ways He is presently showing His love for us, and all that He has promised to do.
Gratitude helps us to not take the little motorcycle ride for granted, and reminds us that if we are told we can't ride the Tilt a Whirl, it's most certainly for our own protection.
The fact that Finn acted demanding and selfish did not change my love for him in any measure. However, his behavior did require some discipline and reminded me that maybe he will need a bit more preparation before we try something that grandiose again.
There are reasons we do not have everything our hearts desire. There are reasons we go through times of waiting. There are reasons we feel lousy for being demanding and selfish.
"And have you completely forgotten this word of encouragement that addresses you as a father addresses his son? It says, 'My son, do not make light of the Lord's discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son'. Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? If you are not disciplined - and everyone undergoes discipline - then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." - Hebrews 12:5-11
When we remember to be grateful for all that has been, all that is, and all that will be, our joy in this life is tangible. We honor God, but it's really just another strategy He uses to bless us and make us more like Himself.
That's His goodness, and that's what we choose to remember.
We had to say "no" to a lot in that stretch of time. Every "no" was for his good.
"No" to the sleazy pirate fun house.
"No" to the funky looking roller coaster.
"No" to the spinning craziness his daddy can't bear to ride with him.
Eventually, due to tiredness or overstimulation or what have you, our boy was a crying, screaming, demanding spectacle. Long gone was the bright-eyed boy who was eager just to get to ride any ride. The joy was gone, the thrill was gone, the gratitude was gone.
It was evident to me in that moment exactly why gratitude is so important to God.
When Jesus healed the 10 lepers and only one returned to thank him (Luke 17), he most certainly noticed, asking, "Were not ten cleansed? Where are the other nine?" The one who returned received a special blessing.
Without gratitude, we become spoiled brats: looking for the next thrill to get our adrenaline pumping, demanding the next big thing as though we deserve it, and forgetting that there is a gracious Hand behind it all.
Like the Israelites after their dramatic rescue from the Egyptians, we begin to whine and complain and focus on all that we do not have.
We take our eyes off of the God who parted the Red Sea for us and center our attention on ourselves.
When we forget to be grateful for the abundance of things He's already given us (breathing through one's nose, for example), we become instantly greedy for the next big blessing. "More, more, more!" becomes the cry of our heart, rather than the quiet beauty and strength of a soul surrendered to Him.
Choosing to be grateful puts us in proper relationship to God, humble before Him, acknowledging that every good thing is directly from His hand and out of His love for us.
It is remembering all that He has already done, the many ways He is presently showing His love for us, and all that He has promised to do.
Gratitude helps us to not take the little motorcycle ride for granted, and reminds us that if we are told we can't ride the Tilt a Whirl, it's most certainly for our own protection.
The fact that Finn acted demanding and selfish did not change my love for him in any measure. However, his behavior did require some discipline and reminded me that maybe he will need a bit more preparation before we try something that grandiose again.
There are reasons we do not have everything our hearts desire. There are reasons we go through times of waiting. There are reasons we feel lousy for being demanding and selfish.
"And have you completely forgotten this word of encouragement that addresses you as a father addresses his son? It says, 'My son, do not make light of the Lord's discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, because the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son'. Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their father? If you are not disciplined - and everyone undergoes discipline - then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it." - Hebrews 12:5-11
When we remember to be grateful for all that has been, all that is, and all that will be, our joy in this life is tangible. We honor God, but it's really just another strategy He uses to bless us and make us more like Himself.
That's His goodness, and that's what we choose to remember.
Friday, July 10, 2015
Talking with Finn About His Uncle Matt
A couple of weeks ago, we were on our way to our 24 week doctor's appointment and we happened to drive by Woodlawn Cemetery. Finn, for the most part, knows what a cemetery is. He gets the gist.
He also knows that I have a brother who died in a car accident when I was 13.
On this particular day, the drive past the cemetery awoke a flurry of questions within my curious 4 year old. He was wondering about his Uncle Matt.
Finn: What did he look like?
Me: He was tall and skinny. He was handsome, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and he loved to dress like a cowboy.
Finn: What did he like to eat?
Me: I remember him making cinnamon applesauce. And I remember that every time Mummy True or Kiki made cookies, he always tried to sneak some of the cookie dough. So he must have liked cookies!
Finn: When will I get to see him?
Me: We won't get to see him again until we get to heaven.
Finn: Will you be happy to see him then?
Me: So, so happy.
Finn: Will you run to him?
Me: You bet I will.
Finn: What would he do if you yelled at him?
Me: Uhhh, he probably would have laughed at me! He was not afraid of me. He was a protector.
Finn: Now you have a new protector.
Me: I do? Who's that?
Finn: Daddy.
Throughout this conversation, I got to talk about my brother Matt, which I don't get to do all that often. I like talking about him. I answered questions about him that I really had to think about, questions I've never been asked before. The whole thing brought about a bubbling in my heart as I spoke. I loved every moment.
While we were waiting in the doctor's office a few minutes later, Finn, who rarely talks to anyone that he doesn't know very well, struck up a conversation with a lady who was also waiting. He told her about heaven and how he was going to see his Uncle Matt there someday.
This is called hope, and this is why we walk this clumsy walk of faith. There is a hope that propels us forward, a hope that a better place awaits us, with the King who created us. A place free from pain and loss and suffering.
This hope is why we talk to our kids about God and try to instill in them a purpose outside of themselves. It's why we continue on in the face of darkness and confusion.
This hope is why we worship, why we pray, why we seek, why we love.
Honestly, it's why we can wake up each morning and keep trying.
There is more, so much more, than this world alone offers us.
When we got home that day, I found some old photos of my brother to show Finn what he looked like. It's the face of one that I can't wait to see again someday. It's the face of one that I want my boys to know, even if they don't know.
My big brother would have been 42 years old today. There is no getting back the time that we lost on this earth with him.
But there is the hope that remains.
One day: when I reach heaven, right after I throw myself at Jesus' feet, I'm searching for that face.
He also knows that I have a brother who died in a car accident when I was 13.
On this particular day, the drive past the cemetery awoke a flurry of questions within my curious 4 year old. He was wondering about his Uncle Matt.
Finn: What did he look like?
Me: He was tall and skinny. He was handsome, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and he loved to dress like a cowboy.
Finn: What did he like to eat?
Me: I remember him making cinnamon applesauce. And I remember that every time Mummy True or Kiki made cookies, he always tried to sneak some of the cookie dough. So he must have liked cookies!
Finn: When will I get to see him?
Me: We won't get to see him again until we get to heaven.
Finn: Will you be happy to see him then?
Me: So, so happy.
Finn: Will you run to him?
Me: You bet I will.
Finn: What would he do if you yelled at him?
Me: Uhhh, he probably would have laughed at me! He was not afraid of me. He was a protector.
Finn: Now you have a new protector.
Me: I do? Who's that?
Finn: Daddy.
Throughout this conversation, I got to talk about my brother Matt, which I don't get to do all that often. I like talking about him. I answered questions about him that I really had to think about, questions I've never been asked before. The whole thing brought about a bubbling in my heart as I spoke. I loved every moment.
While we were waiting in the doctor's office a few minutes later, Finn, who rarely talks to anyone that he doesn't know very well, struck up a conversation with a lady who was also waiting. He told her about heaven and how he was going to see his Uncle Matt there someday.
This is called hope, and this is why we walk this clumsy walk of faith. There is a hope that propels us forward, a hope that a better place awaits us, with the King who created us. A place free from pain and loss and suffering.
This hope is why we talk to our kids about God and try to instill in them a purpose outside of themselves. It's why we continue on in the face of darkness and confusion.
This hope is why we worship, why we pray, why we seek, why we love.
Honestly, it's why we can wake up each morning and keep trying.
There is more, so much more, than this world alone offers us.
When we got home that day, I found some old photos of my brother to show Finn what he looked like. It's the face of one that I can't wait to see again someday. It's the face of one that I want my boys to know, even if they don't know.
My big brother would have been 42 years old today. There is no getting back the time that we lost on this earth with him.
But there is the hope that remains.
One day: when I reach heaven, right after I throw myself at Jesus' feet, I'm searching for that face.
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
Guilt as a Terrible Parenting Strategy
If you had to ask me what is the single toughest task for me as a parent, it would be easy for me to pinpoint:
Reacting.
I react with my emotions all wrapped up in my children's behaviors. Whether they disappoint, shock, or please me, it is written all over my face and expressed in every word from my mouth.
I've never really considered myself an impulsive person...I love plans and schedules and order. But the impulsivity of my emotional reactions is swifter and more powerful than what I've learned to control.
Too often, I've reacted before I have even processed what happened. If I could just. slow. down. I know that wisdom is lurking around in my brain if my heart would just simmer for a single second.
I'm attending a parenting class on Wednesday nights currently (taught by my mama, nonetheless), and it stuck with me a few weeks ago when she said how important it is to not parent from our emotions. As a parent, it is crucial that we remain in control of the situation by acting, not reacting. Our children get a bit of a free pass when it comes to losing it, we do not.
A couple of weeks ago, I was driving away from a park with my sons. We left on a semi-sour note, as Finn and one of his cousins had been going at it a bit. As we drove out of the parking lot, Finn and I talked about what had happened. He didn't feel like his cousin was being very kind and was upset that I expected him to still be nice in return.
I said to him, "I understand. I understand that it is really tough to be kind to others when we feel like they aren't being kind to us."
He sighed and said, "Yeah, it is."
This was good. We were off to a great start. Let's dig deeper!
I said, "Maybe next time before we hang out with your cousins, we can pray and ask God to help us be kind at all times."
I felt a puff of accomplishment in my spirit. I was utilizing what I was using in the parenting class and it was working!! Until....
Finn says, "I'm not praying. If you pray I'm closing my ears and not listening."
Well, he may as well have taken a dagger to my mommy heart. Absolutely nothing on this earth means more to me than my faith and the hope that my children will share the same faith. It triggered a big old emotional reaction in me.
"Finn Matthew, why would you say that?! That hurts my heart! I am so disappointed in you."
Suddenly what could have been a Level 3 incidence between us escalated to a Level 8. Not because of Finn; Finn is a child and a 4 year old who loves to push buttons sometimes. This one was all on me.
I allowed myself to get so worked up that by the time I got home and told Matt about it, I was actually in tears. My mommy heart felt broken and like a total failure....again.
By the time an hour or so had passed, my brain caught up with my heart and the guilt began to rise.
The next day, still baffled, I asked my sister what she would have done in that situation. She responded, "Well, I probably would have said that sometimes I don't feel like praying either..."
Oh yeah. Duh. That's simple enough. If only I had to been slow to respond (James 1:19).
My children are absolutely not going to come to a relationship with Jesus because I guilt them into it by saying I'm disappointed in them when they don't feel like praying.
No manipulation, no coercion, no willing it to happen will help my children believe that Jesus loves them and wants relationship with them. It may lead them close for a moment, but will ultimately push them away.
Finn and I let the discussion on prayer cool for a couple of weeks. The most I said to him was that prayers don't have to be long and complicated. I told him that one of my favorite prayers was simply, "Help, God."
Yesterday he surprised me.
He had gone outside to wait for some friends that were coming over to our house. When Jonas and I walked outside to join him, he says to me,
"Mommy I was talking to God."
My heart grew 3 sizes, like the Grinch.
"Oh yeah," I tried not to seem too excited, "what were you saying to God?"
"I was praying for the dead mouse (in our window well) and the dead bird (on the street)"
My sweet son was praying, from his own heart, about something that truly matters to him.
It was a reminder to me that God can touch my son's heart without my help. I don't need to strong arm my faith into him. Sometimes, mommies need to get out of the way so that their children can cultivate their own relationship with God.
Pray. Lead by example. Love with everything I have. Talk about God's goodness and faithfulness.
And then?
Release the reins and get out of the way!
Reacting.
I react with my emotions all wrapped up in my children's behaviors. Whether they disappoint, shock, or please me, it is written all over my face and expressed in every word from my mouth.
I've never really considered myself an impulsive person...I love plans and schedules and order. But the impulsivity of my emotional reactions is swifter and more powerful than what I've learned to control.
Too often, I've reacted before I have even processed what happened. If I could just. slow. down. I know that wisdom is lurking around in my brain if my heart would just simmer for a single second.
I'm attending a parenting class on Wednesday nights currently (taught by my mama, nonetheless), and it stuck with me a few weeks ago when she said how important it is to not parent from our emotions. As a parent, it is crucial that we remain in control of the situation by acting, not reacting. Our children get a bit of a free pass when it comes to losing it, we do not.
A couple of weeks ago, I was driving away from a park with my sons. We left on a semi-sour note, as Finn and one of his cousins had been going at it a bit. As we drove out of the parking lot, Finn and I talked about what had happened. He didn't feel like his cousin was being very kind and was upset that I expected him to still be nice in return.
I said to him, "I understand. I understand that it is really tough to be kind to others when we feel like they aren't being kind to us."
He sighed and said, "Yeah, it is."
This was good. We were off to a great start. Let's dig deeper!
I said, "Maybe next time before we hang out with your cousins, we can pray and ask God to help us be kind at all times."
I felt a puff of accomplishment in my spirit. I was utilizing what I was using in the parenting class and it was working!! Until....
Finn says, "I'm not praying. If you pray I'm closing my ears and not listening."
Well, he may as well have taken a dagger to my mommy heart. Absolutely nothing on this earth means more to me than my faith and the hope that my children will share the same faith. It triggered a big old emotional reaction in me.
"Finn Matthew, why would you say that?! That hurts my heart! I am so disappointed in you."
Suddenly what could have been a Level 3 incidence between us escalated to a Level 8. Not because of Finn; Finn is a child and a 4 year old who loves to push buttons sometimes. This one was all on me.
I allowed myself to get so worked up that by the time I got home and told Matt about it, I was actually in tears. My mommy heart felt broken and like a total failure....again.
By the time an hour or so had passed, my brain caught up with my heart and the guilt began to rise.
The next day, still baffled, I asked my sister what she would have done in that situation. She responded, "Well, I probably would have said that sometimes I don't feel like praying either..."
Oh yeah. Duh. That's simple enough. If only I had to been slow to respond (James 1:19).
My children are absolutely not going to come to a relationship with Jesus because I guilt them into it by saying I'm disappointed in them when they don't feel like praying.
No manipulation, no coercion, no willing it to happen will help my children believe that Jesus loves them and wants relationship with them. It may lead them close for a moment, but will ultimately push them away.
Finn and I let the discussion on prayer cool for a couple of weeks. The most I said to him was that prayers don't have to be long and complicated. I told him that one of my favorite prayers was simply, "Help, God."
Yesterday he surprised me.
He had gone outside to wait for some friends that were coming over to our house. When Jonas and I walked outside to join him, he says to me,
"Mommy I was talking to God."
My heart grew 3 sizes, like the Grinch.
"Oh yeah," I tried not to seem too excited, "what were you saying to God?"
"I was praying for the dead mouse (in our window well) and the dead bird (on the street)"
My sweet son was praying, from his own heart, about something that truly matters to him.
It was a reminder to me that God can touch my son's heart without my help. I don't need to strong arm my faith into him. Sometimes, mommies need to get out of the way so that their children can cultivate their own relationship with God.
Pray. Lead by example. Love with everything I have. Talk about God's goodness and faithfulness.
And then?
Release the reins and get out of the way!
Monday, June 22, 2015
Fear and Ice Cream
If there was one thing that I could wish for my boys to absolutely not to inherit from my gene pool, it would be my tendency towards anxiety and fear.
I can say, with relative certainty, that Finn inherited my olive skin tone, my stumpy legs, my sensitivity, my timidity......and my fear.
He is a typical first-born in many ways: he likes to be in charge, he benefits greatly from a strong schedule, and he likes to know everything that is going on - at all times.
What that looks like lately is that he asks questions when a situation is new to him. Lots and lots of questions.
Where are we going?
Why are we going?
What are we doing?
Who will be there?
Will you stay with me?
What do they have there?
He is a kid that likes to be prepared. He prefers to have knowledge of what he is walking into.
My mom tells me that I was much the same way. Before she would take me somewhere, she would prep me with all of the details so that it would lessen my anxieties. For example, when we would go to the doctor she would say something along the lines of,
I can say, with relative certainty, that Finn inherited my olive skin tone, my stumpy legs, my sensitivity, my timidity......and my fear.
He is a typical first-born in many ways: he likes to be in charge, he benefits greatly from a strong schedule, and he likes to know everything that is going on - at all times.
What that looks like lately is that he asks questions when a situation is new to him. Lots and lots of questions.
Where are we going?
Why are we going?
What are we doing?
Who will be there?
Will you stay with me?
What do they have there?
He is a kid that likes to be prepared. He prefers to have knowledge of what he is walking into.
My mom tells me that I was much the same way. Before she would take me somewhere, she would prep me with all of the details so that it would lessen my anxieties. For example, when we would go to the doctor she would say something along the lines of,
"We will walk in to the waiting room and will wait there for a few minutes until they call our names. When they call our names, they will lead us back to the doctor's office where they will weigh you and check your height. The doctor will use a really cool tool to hear your heartbeat. Then it will be time for a nurse to come in and give you a shot. It will hurt for a second, but the pain will be over with quickly. I will be with you the whole time, and then we can get ice cream."
I found such comfort in knowing each step. When it was laid out all in front of me like that, it felt manageable and something that I could undertake. My anxieties would lessen.
That is the kind of inherited fear I see in Finn - an anxiousness that lessons when one feels prepared and feels like he can manage whatever he is about to face.
So yes, some fear is inherited.
But I am learning the older my big boy gets, that some fear is also learned.
He can latch onto fears simply by watching the way that I act and react to the world around me.
For example, I have a big old nasty fear of spiders. They are gross, they are ugly, and they have 8 spindly legs that they use to haunt my dreams. Don't even get me started on the webs they are able to create. Sticky, stretchy, yuck.
Finn knows well my fear of spiders. It used to be that when we would play in our basement, where the spiders feel extra homey, I would screech at the sight of one and he would hop up and kill it for me with toilet paper. "My HERO!" I would exclaim.
But there came a day a few months ago when all of a sudden Finn didn't want to kill the spider. He, too, wanted to run from it and stare at it in disgust, wishing it would drop dead from a evil glare. He began to shake his head and cower in the corner at the suggestion that he kill it.
From curiosity and zero fear to cowering in a corner; I can only surmise that he learned this by watching his mommy.
- Fear as a personality trait can be inherited. This includes a certain tendency toward timidity and a fondness for being in control. When my mom would give me that speech before we ventured out, she was helping me to trust myself that I could handle what lay ahead. I do the same thing with Finn so that I can prepare him and cut way down on the chances that he might have a meltdown when he feels overwhelmed. This is a natural proactive parenting response.
However, God does not treat us in the same way. He does not wish for us to trust ourselves, but leaves us in the dark about so much that lies ahead so that we may trust in Him. He does not lay out a step by step plan for us to take, but guides us one foot in front of the other. He does not give speeches like my mom gave, save for one line: "I will be with you the whole time" (Deuteronomy 31:8). This alone is to be enough to quell our fears of the unknown future. We are never left alone or unloved.
- Fear as a behavior can be learned. Our kids learn so much from watching us, maybe too much sometimes. They learn how to treat others, how to react in certain situations, how to spend their free time, and how to work through the chaotic world of emotions. What do you do when you are angry, or sad, or overwhelmed, or fearful? That will often be the first thing your child tries when he or she feels something similar. It honestly scares the bejeebers out of me that my boys are learning so much from me, because I know how short I fall in so many areas. I wish I could send them to my sister's house for two weeks and say, "Watch her instead. That's how it should be done." Behaviors are learned. Therefore, behaviors can also be un-learned and re-taught.
I don't want my boy to prefer cowering in a corner, so I am going to try my hardest to squash the next spider I see as quickly as possible and with the biggest wad of toilet paper I can get - even if it kills me (and it just might).
We don't have control over what our children inherit from us, but we can do something about the behaviors that they learn from us.
I can teach my son that faith stands up to fear, be it a new situation or a nasty spider. The best way I can teach him is by showing him how.
And that even though I can't prepare him for every little thing he might face, there is One that is always with him.
Also, if he's been a good boy, there can be ice cream afterwards (because Mommy will probably be wanting it too)!
I can teach my son that faith stands up to fear, be it a new situation or a nasty spider. The best way I can teach him is by showing him how.
And that even though I can't prepare him for every little thing he might face, there is One that is always with him.
Also, if he's been a good boy, there can be ice cream afterwards (because Mommy will probably be wanting it too)!
Wednesday, April 22, 2015
A Common Plague
I'm just going to come right out and say it: I've been fighting discouragement.
Discouragement is a common plague, a nearly daily deluge of bad news sent to make us feel that our circumstances are unconquerable, impenetrable, and fantastically beyond our ability to deal.
Lately, my source of discouragement has been parenting. This pregnancy has zapped me of so much energy, that I have to physically fight myself off the couch multiple times a day. I wipe little butts and feed faces and keep everything else fairly picked up, but when it comes to going above and beyond that, it has been a battle. At times, I can almost feel an invisible hand holding me down in my seated (or lying down) position, like a magnet planting me to the couch. This week I've just been down; I was finally getting an iota of energy back, and then I got a cold so I still feel blah and lousy. I just want to feel normal, like myself, again.
I'm tired. And nauseous - I just don't feel good. But I know I do not have it that bad really, so I mentally challenge myself to not complain.
However, in my heart, I feel down and easily discouraged. I hear thoughts prance through my brain:
"Your house is tiny, how is it that hard to keep clean?"
"How will you possibly have energy to take care of another child?"
"You are going to be tired and overwhelmed forever"
We have been talking about discouragement for the past few weeks in the young women's group I lead at our church on Wednesday nights. The unique thing to me about this topic is that, unlike many of the other issues we have discussed (fear, insecurity, shame), this one admittedly affects US ALL.
Let's be honest - it doesn't take much to get discouraged. Sometimes it only takes one small mishap or misstep. Sometimes we get discouraged when we are overwhelmed - we feel like there is no way we can possibly do everything being asked of us. Sometimes we get discouraged when we're bored - we feel like there's no greater purpose or calling for us. Sometimes discouragement comes from being disappointed by other people, and sometimes is materializes from within ourselves.
Discouragement leads us to ask ourselves, "What I'm doing is not working, so what's the point?"
A couple of weeks ago I was pondering discouragement in order to prepare for group. My mind wandered a bit to the human video drama that we had done in church a couple of days before. I thought about several of the really nice comments that I heard from people and was encouraged. But there was a part of me that was a little baffled, because when I create and do human videos, my head tends to tell me, "Gretchen, you're just putting random movements to music. What's so special about that?"
I have acknowledged for years that the movements certainly aren't special because I create them. They are special when, and only when, God works through them.
Without God, they are simple movements. With God, they are anointed and point people to Him.
And it was then that a thought hit me - discouragement occurs when we neglect to factor God into the situation.
When I look at the human videos I have created, it is easy to feel critical and doubtful that they will be any good at all. Even ones that I have done numerous times, I find myself praying for God to use it again, because if He doesn't it will look like a 3rd grader creating a dance to an Amy Grant song (which I maybe used to do).
Likewise, when I feel exhausted and blah and nauseous, it is easy to feel like I will never feel normal again. But when I intentionally look to God, I am able to remember that He has promised to give me the strength I need for each day. I remember that He has blessed this pregnancy and He will give me the grace I need to parent three children. He will meet me where I need Him, every time.
I had kind of a fun exercise looking at places where I get easily discouraged to see if this was true across the board - that discouragement happens when we neglect to factor in God. And sure enough, each of my discouragement triggers were all about my own lack:
- As a mother, I get discouraged by feeling like I daily fail my boys. But when I factor God in, I am reminded that I am the exact mama that my boys need and though I am far from perfect, I am present and engaged and loving. What I lack in calm demeanor, I make up for with effusive love.
- As a singer, I get discouraged by feeling like my voice is not strong or controlled enough. But when I factor God in, I am reminded that His glory is all that matters and I have nothing to prove. I am a vessel to display Him, and there's nothing I love more than displaying Him.
- As a wife, I get discouraged by feeling relationally needy or exhaustedly removed (sometimes at the exact same time!!). But when I factor God in, I am reminded that He has given me everything I need to be a good wife and I just need to be obedient. I need to engage, support, and love my husband well, and that may look different in different seasons. God has also given me a patient husband, who responds so beautifully to me when I am honest about how I am feeling.
These are things to be thankful for and encouraged by, not burdens by which to be brought low.
The list goes on and on, truly. The things that discourage me about being a counselor, or a leader of Bible studies, or a friend.....they all completely transform when I factor in God and His wondrously true promises. If discouragement happens when I am focusing on my lack and everything I don't have to conquer the looming mountains ahead of me, then certainly focusing on the abundance of the Lord corrects my perspective.
There was a sermon I heard awhile ago that centered on the story of David and Goliath. There was one very cool realization from it that has stuck with me still. The Israelite army were utterly discouraged and defeated by the presence of this 9 foot tall giant that was taunting them. They had no will or drive to fight the Philistine beast. But David was different. He did not focus on how big the giant was or how small and young he himself was. He was focused on God. When the giant shouted out his taunts one more time, David shouted back:
"You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied...All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord's and he will give all of you into our hands." - 1 Samuel 17: 45, 47
Though the threats against us loom large and can easily discourage, sometimes we just have to shout back at them about all that God has promised us in His Word. We are more than conquerors indeed (Romans 8:37). You've got to know His Word to speak His words. Read, memorize, and yes, actually speak them out loud!
Finn is getting to the age when he loves picking flowers for me. He recently picked me a bouquet of dandelions - "They're yellow! My favorite!!". I placed them on the counter so I could look at them and let him know how much I appreciated his thoughtfulness. However, the next day, he saw them there and was bewildered when he saw the flowers (weeds?) wilting. He was a little sad about it, so I had to explain that the flowers died because they were plucked from their life source. This was a brilliant illustration to me that all things die when they are plucked from their life source. When we picture a world without God factored in, of course we get discouraged. This world is all kinds of mess. But when we factor Him in, or rather, when we center our lack and our resources around Him, we are connected to the Life Source from which we have everything that we need.
Discouragement is simply writing God out of the equation. So next time you feel discouraged, write Him back in. Even better, write everything else around HIM! Remember that He formed you and loves you and is with you. Speak His promises over your situation and see if you aren't immediately encouraged.
Discouragement is a common plague, a nearly daily deluge of bad news sent to make us feel that our circumstances are unconquerable, impenetrable, and fantastically beyond our ability to deal.
Lately, my source of discouragement has been parenting. This pregnancy has zapped me of so much energy, that I have to physically fight myself off the couch multiple times a day. I wipe little butts and feed faces and keep everything else fairly picked up, but when it comes to going above and beyond that, it has been a battle. At times, I can almost feel an invisible hand holding me down in my seated (or lying down) position, like a magnet planting me to the couch. This week I've just been down; I was finally getting an iota of energy back, and then I got a cold so I still feel blah and lousy. I just want to feel normal, like myself, again.
I'm tired. And nauseous - I just don't feel good. But I know I do not have it that bad really, so I mentally challenge myself to not complain.
However, in my heart, I feel down and easily discouraged. I hear thoughts prance through my brain:
"Your house is tiny, how is it that hard to keep clean?"
"How will you possibly have energy to take care of another child?"
"You are going to be tired and overwhelmed forever"
We have been talking about discouragement for the past few weeks in the young women's group I lead at our church on Wednesday nights. The unique thing to me about this topic is that, unlike many of the other issues we have discussed (fear, insecurity, shame), this one admittedly affects US ALL.
Let's be honest - it doesn't take much to get discouraged. Sometimes it only takes one small mishap or misstep. Sometimes we get discouraged when we are overwhelmed - we feel like there is no way we can possibly do everything being asked of us. Sometimes we get discouraged when we're bored - we feel like there's no greater purpose or calling for us. Sometimes discouragement comes from being disappointed by other people, and sometimes is materializes from within ourselves.
Discouragement leads us to ask ourselves, "What I'm doing is not working, so what's the point?"
A couple of weeks ago I was pondering discouragement in order to prepare for group. My mind wandered a bit to the human video drama that we had done in church a couple of days before. I thought about several of the really nice comments that I heard from people and was encouraged. But there was a part of me that was a little baffled, because when I create and do human videos, my head tends to tell me, "Gretchen, you're just putting random movements to music. What's so special about that?"
I have acknowledged for years that the movements certainly aren't special because I create them. They are special when, and only when, God works through them.
Without God, they are simple movements. With God, they are anointed and point people to Him.
And it was then that a thought hit me - discouragement occurs when we neglect to factor God into the situation.
When I look at the human videos I have created, it is easy to feel critical and doubtful that they will be any good at all. Even ones that I have done numerous times, I find myself praying for God to use it again, because if He doesn't it will look like a 3rd grader creating a dance to an Amy Grant song (which I maybe used to do).
Likewise, when I feel exhausted and blah and nauseous, it is easy to feel like I will never feel normal again. But when I intentionally look to God, I am able to remember that He has promised to give me the strength I need for each day. I remember that He has blessed this pregnancy and He will give me the grace I need to parent three children. He will meet me where I need Him, every time.
I had kind of a fun exercise looking at places where I get easily discouraged to see if this was true across the board - that discouragement happens when we neglect to factor in God. And sure enough, each of my discouragement triggers were all about my own lack:
- As a mother, I get discouraged by feeling like I daily fail my boys. But when I factor God in, I am reminded that I am the exact mama that my boys need and though I am far from perfect, I am present and engaged and loving. What I lack in calm demeanor, I make up for with effusive love.
- As a singer, I get discouraged by feeling like my voice is not strong or controlled enough. But when I factor God in, I am reminded that His glory is all that matters and I have nothing to prove. I am a vessel to display Him, and there's nothing I love more than displaying Him.
- As a wife, I get discouraged by feeling relationally needy or exhaustedly removed (sometimes at the exact same time!!). But when I factor God in, I am reminded that He has given me everything I need to be a good wife and I just need to be obedient. I need to engage, support, and love my husband well, and that may look different in different seasons. God has also given me a patient husband, who responds so beautifully to me when I am honest about how I am feeling.
These are things to be thankful for and encouraged by, not burdens by which to be brought low.
The list goes on and on, truly. The things that discourage me about being a counselor, or a leader of Bible studies, or a friend.....they all completely transform when I factor in God and His wondrously true promises. If discouragement happens when I am focusing on my lack and everything I don't have to conquer the looming mountains ahead of me, then certainly focusing on the abundance of the Lord corrects my perspective.
There was a sermon I heard awhile ago that centered on the story of David and Goliath. There was one very cool realization from it that has stuck with me still. The Israelite army were utterly discouraged and defeated by the presence of this 9 foot tall giant that was taunting them. They had no will or drive to fight the Philistine beast. But David was different. He did not focus on how big the giant was or how small and young he himself was. He was focused on God. When the giant shouted out his taunts one more time, David shouted back:
"You come against me with sword and spear and javelin, but I come against you in the name of the Lord Almighty, the God of the armies of Israel, whom you have defied...All those gathered here will know that it is not by sword or spear that the Lord saves; for the battle is the Lord's and he will give all of you into our hands." - 1 Samuel 17: 45, 47
Though the threats against us loom large and can easily discourage, sometimes we just have to shout back at them about all that God has promised us in His Word. We are more than conquerors indeed (Romans 8:37). You've got to know His Word to speak His words. Read, memorize, and yes, actually speak them out loud!
Finn is getting to the age when he loves picking flowers for me. He recently picked me a bouquet of dandelions - "They're yellow! My favorite!!". I placed them on the counter so I could look at them and let him know how much I appreciated his thoughtfulness. However, the next day, he saw them there and was bewildered when he saw the flowers (weeds?) wilting. He was a little sad about it, so I had to explain that the flowers died because they were plucked from their life source. This was a brilliant illustration to me that all things die when they are plucked from their life source. When we picture a world without God factored in, of course we get discouraged. This world is all kinds of mess. But when we factor Him in, or rather, when we center our lack and our resources around Him, we are connected to the Life Source from which we have everything that we need.
Discouragement is simply writing God out of the equation. So next time you feel discouraged, write Him back in. Even better, write everything else around HIM! Remember that He formed you and loves you and is with you. Speak His promises over your situation and see if you aren't immediately encouraged.
Monday, March 16, 2015
On Rejection
For years and years and years, as long as I can remember really, I have had this insecurity complex where I brace to be rejected. I had this feeling that unless someone explicitly shows they like me, they probably don't.
If someone didn't specifically tell me I was doing a good job, I assumed I wasn't meeting their expectations or was letting them down.
Even further, if someone actually rejected me, even jokingly, I took it hard.
I cowered in the face of rejection.
Please like me. Please, please like me.
At times this has led me to extreme perfectionism. Because you can't get hurt if you do it best, right?At times it has led me to extreme apathy. Because you can't fail if you don't even try, right?
I don't know if I even really realized this about myself until the last year or so. I just thought I was super sensitive. I was going through some really personal battles, and by praying and studying and listening, I discovered a deep root of rejection in my life.
As has been typical since I became a mother, I have recently become privy to how rejection affects me in my most important role of being a mother. We bring our baggage everywhere, especially into parenthood.
My relationships with my two sweet boys are pretty different. From the time Finn was born, I absolutely loved him. I couldn't wait until the moments when he got older and would cry when I left. I stated on numerous occasions that I wanted to be his #1 person; I was his mommy after all. But Finn didn't show his love for me in the way for which I was longing. He was typically happy to leave my side, especially if he was staying with one of his grandmas. He lit up whenever Matt walked into the room, but not usually when I would. He was used to me. I think he maybe cried once when I dropped him off at nursery, but otherwise he was like, "See ya, mommy! I'ma gonna play!"
Because he didn't show his love for me in the way that I was expecting/hoping, the slightest feeling of rejection from him rocked me. I didn't feel loved, and what kind of mother isn't loved by her own child??? When he would openly prefer someone else, I would feel humiliated. The first time he said he didn't like me upon being disciplined, I shattered. When I would go to pick him up and he would cry to stay where he was, I would bite my lip and try to wait until I got to the car to cry. I felt unloved and unwanted, by my child. Children are supposed to fill our love holes....right?
It's tough acknowledging my frailty in these memories. It's tough to document.
On the other hand, Jonas has always preferred me. Even as a newborn, he clearly wanted me more than anyone else. He lights up when he sees me and looks for me before anyone else. He bawls when I drop him off at the nursery. He always, always comes to me when he gets hurt and needs comfort. He loves me the way I always expected my child would.
But.
A few weeks ago, Matt's mom watched the boys while Matt and I helped with the women's conference at our church. It wasn't until last week, however, that I saw a note hanging on the fridge:
My heart lit up. "He thinks that about me?! Wow!" I had no clue that Finn felt that way about me. It touched my heart more than I can really express. It may seem small, but that kind of indicates how much I needed to hear something positive. I feel like a failure much of the time.
When I mother from a place of rejection, or trying not to feel rejected, it doesn't inspire affection in my children. My kids are going to show they love me by their own unique personalities. Jonas is social and effusive - ask anyone. Finn is shy at first and then blossoms.
It is impossible to compare the two - each so different, each so special.
I truly believe that both of my boys love me and look to me as their safe place, they just show it in different ways. It's taken awhile to get there, but get there I did. I am learning to operate from a place of believing that I am loved.
When I mother from a place of knowing, truly knowing, that I am loved, it frees me up. I don't need to try to earn their love, because it's all mine already. I don't need to prove myself worthy as a mother; God has made me a mother, therefore I am anointed to be a mother. I am still learning confidence in mothering, but I can say this - the more confident I am, the more confident, secure, and stable my boys are. I've seen it.
Entering our relationships from a place of insecurity always leads us down a road where nothing will ever be good enough. No affirmative word will last long enough. No quality time will be perfect enough. No gift will be thoughtful enough.
I remember when Matt and I were dating and I felt insecure in our relationship, afraid of being rejected. I couldn't wait to have a ring on my finger to prove to others (and myself) that this wonderful man really did want me. But then as soon as we were engaged, I started counting down the days until we were married. Because you see, if it was legal, then there was no getting out it for him!!
It was three months into our marriage when I started getting hit hard with insomnia and anxiety. Looking back, I know that a big part of the anxiety for me was - once again - fearing that he wouldn't want me anymore if I fell apart on him. Well, fall apart I did. And yet - he still wanted me. He still pursued my broken heart. He was steady in all of my unsteadiness.
That year taught me that Matt can see me at my lowest.....and still love me. Because of that year, I know that Matt will stick with me through it all. My insecurity in our relationship slowly dissipated. I was no longer waiting to be rejected.
When I relate to others from a place of brokenness, it only begets more brokenness. It breeds insecurity and jealousy and striving for my selfish ambitions. I constantly try to protect myself.
WONDROUS NEWS!!!! I can relate to them from the place of fullness that Christ offers me - I do not need them to fill me because, honey, I'm full. Let me pour out. I can know that I'm not enough on my own but I'm enough in Jesus. Let me be available when you need me, I can be there.
This is when I have the joy to do the tough task set before me. I have peace that I am doing a good job and don't need nearly as much outward approval.
1 John 3:18-22 :"My dear children, let's not just talk about love; let's practice real love. This is the only way we'll know we're living truly, living in God's reality. It's also the way to shut down debilitating self-criticism, even when there is something to it. For God is greater than our worried hearts and knows more about us than we do ourselves. And friends, once that's taken care of and we're no longer accusing or condemning ourselves, we're bold and free before God!! We're able to stretch our hands out and receive what we asked for because we're doing what he said, doing what please him." MSG
If someone didn't specifically tell me I was doing a good job, I assumed I wasn't meeting their expectations or was letting them down.
Even further, if someone actually rejected me, even jokingly, I took it hard.
I cowered in the face of rejection.
Please like me. Please, please like me.
At times this has led me to extreme perfectionism. Because you can't get hurt if you do it best, right?At times it has led me to extreme apathy. Because you can't fail if you don't even try, right?
I don't know if I even really realized this about myself until the last year or so. I just thought I was super sensitive. I was going through some really personal battles, and by praying and studying and listening, I discovered a deep root of rejection in my life.
As has been typical since I became a mother, I have recently become privy to how rejection affects me in my most important role of being a mother. We bring our baggage everywhere, especially into parenthood.
My relationships with my two sweet boys are pretty different. From the time Finn was born, I absolutely loved him. I couldn't wait until the moments when he got older and would cry when I left. I stated on numerous occasions that I wanted to be his #1 person; I was his mommy after all. But Finn didn't show his love for me in the way for which I was longing. He was typically happy to leave my side, especially if he was staying with one of his grandmas. He lit up whenever Matt walked into the room, but not usually when I would. He was used to me. I think he maybe cried once when I dropped him off at nursery, but otherwise he was like, "See ya, mommy! I'ma gonna play!"
Because he didn't show his love for me in the way that I was expecting/hoping, the slightest feeling of rejection from him rocked me. I didn't feel loved, and what kind of mother isn't loved by her own child??? When he would openly prefer someone else, I would feel humiliated. The first time he said he didn't like me upon being disciplined, I shattered. When I would go to pick him up and he would cry to stay where he was, I would bite my lip and try to wait until I got to the car to cry. I felt unloved and unwanted, by my child. Children are supposed to fill our love holes....right?
It's tough acknowledging my frailty in these memories. It's tough to document.
On the other hand, Jonas has always preferred me. Even as a newborn, he clearly wanted me more than anyone else. He lights up when he sees me and looks for me before anyone else. He bawls when I drop him off at the nursery. He always, always comes to me when he gets hurt and needs comfort. He loves me the way I always expected my child would.
But.
A few weeks ago, Matt's mom watched the boys while Matt and I helped with the women's conference at our church. It wasn't until last week, however, that I saw a note hanging on the fridge:
My heart lit up. "He thinks that about me?! Wow!" I had no clue that Finn felt that way about me. It touched my heart more than I can really express. It may seem small, but that kind of indicates how much I needed to hear something positive. I feel like a failure much of the time.
When I mother from a place of rejection, or trying not to feel rejected, it doesn't inspire affection in my children. My kids are going to show they love me by their own unique personalities. Jonas is social and effusive - ask anyone. Finn is shy at first and then blossoms.
It is impossible to compare the two - each so different, each so special.
I truly believe that both of my boys love me and look to me as their safe place, they just show it in different ways. It's taken awhile to get there, but get there I did. I am learning to operate from a place of believing that I am loved.
When I mother from a place of knowing, truly knowing, that I am loved, it frees me up. I don't need to try to earn their love, because it's all mine already. I don't need to prove myself worthy as a mother; God has made me a mother, therefore I am anointed to be a mother. I am still learning confidence in mothering, but I can say this - the more confident I am, the more confident, secure, and stable my boys are. I've seen it.
Entering our relationships from a place of insecurity always leads us down a road where nothing will ever be good enough. No affirmative word will last long enough. No quality time will be perfect enough. No gift will be thoughtful enough.
I remember when Matt and I were dating and I felt insecure in our relationship, afraid of being rejected. I couldn't wait to have a ring on my finger to prove to others (and myself) that this wonderful man really did want me. But then as soon as we were engaged, I started counting down the days until we were married. Because you see, if it was legal, then there was no getting out it for him!!
It was three months into our marriage when I started getting hit hard with insomnia and anxiety. Looking back, I know that a big part of the anxiety for me was - once again - fearing that he wouldn't want me anymore if I fell apart on him. Well, fall apart I did. And yet - he still wanted me. He still pursued my broken heart. He was steady in all of my unsteadiness.
That year taught me that Matt can see me at my lowest.....and still love me. Because of that year, I know that Matt will stick with me through it all. My insecurity in our relationship slowly dissipated. I was no longer waiting to be rejected.
When I relate to others from a place of brokenness, it only begets more brokenness. It breeds insecurity and jealousy and striving for my selfish ambitions. I constantly try to protect myself.
WONDROUS NEWS!!!! I can relate to them from the place of fullness that Christ offers me - I do not need them to fill me because, honey, I'm full. Let me pour out. I can know that I'm not enough on my own but I'm enough in Jesus. Let me be available when you need me, I can be there.
This is when I have the joy to do the tough task set before me. I have peace that I am doing a good job and don't need nearly as much outward approval.
1 John 3:18-22 :"My dear children, let's not just talk about love; let's practice real love. This is the only way we'll know we're living truly, living in God's reality. It's also the way to shut down debilitating self-criticism, even when there is something to it. For God is greater than our worried hearts and knows more about us than we do ourselves. And friends, once that's taken care of and we're no longer accusing or condemning ourselves, we're bold and free before God!! We're able to stretch our hands out and receive what we asked for because we're doing what he said, doing what please him." MSG
Friday, February 6, 2015
Tough Questions
Finn is big on the idea of bad guys. He is at the developmental stage where he understands things as being good or bad. Black or white.
Because of his daddy, he knows by heart who Superman's bad guys are, who Batman's bad guys are, who Flash's bad guys are. He's fascinated by the whole thing! He even has a made-up game called "Bad Guys" that he loves to play - especially with his two grandmas. There is a part of him that even thinks the bad guys are cooler than the superheroes they fight.
The other day, he was playing with his superhero guys at our kitchen table. Then I hear him ask, "Mommy, who is Jesus' bad guy?". Caught a little bit by surprise, it took me a second to find the answer in my mind. After a pause, I replied, "Jesus' bad guy is Satan." This just led to more questions:
"Why is he bad?"
"What bad things does he do?"
"What does he look like?"
Uhhhhh...
These questions each stretched my brain more than I would have guessed. I almost called Matt and asked him to tag in for me. In my head I know the answers to these questions, or at least an idea of where to find them in the Bible. But putting the answers into comprehensible words was new for me. I've never had to answer questions like these because, for the majority of my life, I have been surrounded by other Christians. It has been years and years since I have been asked to explain my faith. One of my favorite things to do is to talk about Jesus, but it is always with other believers.
My life has been mostly surrounded by my family, my youth group, my high school friends (all my best friends were Christians), my Christian college friends, my Alaskan church friends, my Arkansan Chi Alpha friends, my current church friends. Christians.
The closest I have come to an experience of tongue-tie-mania like this one was with my good friend from Minneapolis, Eric. Eric and I worked together as servers at Old Spaghetti Factory. He was one of my favorite people to work with because he was almost always happy. We both loved to laugh and sing while we were preparing salads and getting drinks. We sang so much that we began to label each night we worked with a different theme: one night would be strictly Broadway songs, another would be songs from Disney movies, etc. He was my good friend. He is gay.
Eric knew I went to a Christian college. We often had deep conversations about God and theology. One night he looked at me and asked, "Gretchen, do you believe I am going to hell when I die?"
I felt like someone had simultaneously sucked all of the air from my lungs and the thoughts from my head. I gave him an honest answer and our friendship only grew stronger.
The Word teaches us that we need to be ready for when people ask us the tough questions.
1 Peter 3:15 - "But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope you have. But do this with gentleness and respect"
Colossians 4:6 - "Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone"
I know why I live a life of faith: I love God and I can see evidence in my life of His goodness and faithfulness. But can I explain it to others? I need to be able to articulate:
A) so I can appropriately teach my children about God and
B) so that I can answer others' questions about Him as well.
I know my own testimony and what God has brought me through. My experiences with God give me a good start but they are not everything I need to know.
My oldest son is just reaching the age where he is beginning to ask the tough questions. I have years and years of tough questions ahead of me, and it's not something I take lightly.
I pray that I not only provide the answers to point my boys towards Jesus, but that I also am able to live what I speak.
One thing is certain: I cannot do it all on my own.
"If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." - James 1:5
Because of his daddy, he knows by heart who Superman's bad guys are, who Batman's bad guys are, who Flash's bad guys are. He's fascinated by the whole thing! He even has a made-up game called "Bad Guys" that he loves to play - especially with his two grandmas. There is a part of him that even thinks the bad guys are cooler than the superheroes they fight.
The other day, he was playing with his superhero guys at our kitchen table. Then I hear him ask, "Mommy, who is Jesus' bad guy?". Caught a little bit by surprise, it took me a second to find the answer in my mind. After a pause, I replied, "Jesus' bad guy is Satan." This just led to more questions:
"Why is he bad?"
"What bad things does he do?"
"What does he look like?"
Uhhhhh...
These questions each stretched my brain more than I would have guessed. I almost called Matt and asked him to tag in for me. In my head I know the answers to these questions, or at least an idea of where to find them in the Bible. But putting the answers into comprehensible words was new for me. I've never had to answer questions like these because, for the majority of my life, I have been surrounded by other Christians. It has been years and years since I have been asked to explain my faith. One of my favorite things to do is to talk about Jesus, but it is always with other believers.
My life has been mostly surrounded by my family, my youth group, my high school friends (all my best friends were Christians), my Christian college friends, my Alaskan church friends, my Arkansan Chi Alpha friends, my current church friends. Christians.
The closest I have come to an experience of tongue-tie-mania like this one was with my good friend from Minneapolis, Eric. Eric and I worked together as servers at Old Spaghetti Factory. He was one of my favorite people to work with because he was almost always happy. We both loved to laugh and sing while we were preparing salads and getting drinks. We sang so much that we began to label each night we worked with a different theme: one night would be strictly Broadway songs, another would be songs from Disney movies, etc. He was my good friend. He is gay.
Eric knew I went to a Christian college. We often had deep conversations about God and theology. One night he looked at me and asked, "Gretchen, do you believe I am going to hell when I die?"
I felt like someone had simultaneously sucked all of the air from my lungs and the thoughts from my head. I gave him an honest answer and our friendship only grew stronger.
The Word teaches us that we need to be ready for when people ask us the tough questions.
1 Peter 3:15 - "But in your hearts revere Christ as Lord. Always be prepared to give an answer to everyone who asks you to give the reason for the hope you have. But do this with gentleness and respect"
Colossians 4:6 - "Let your conversation be always full of grace, seasoned with salt, so that you may know how to answer everyone"
I know why I live a life of faith: I love God and I can see evidence in my life of His goodness and faithfulness. But can I explain it to others? I need to be able to articulate:
A) so I can appropriately teach my children about God and
B) so that I can answer others' questions about Him as well.
I know my own testimony and what God has brought me through. My experiences with God give me a good start but they are not everything I need to know.
My oldest son is just reaching the age where he is beginning to ask the tough questions. I have years and years of tough questions ahead of me, and it's not something I take lightly.
I pray that I not only provide the answers to point my boys towards Jesus, but that I also am able to live what I speak.
One thing is certain: I cannot do it all on my own.
"If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him." - James 1:5
Tuesday, December 30, 2014
Held
I would venture to say that most people tend to take the last few days of a year to glance back at the roller coaster ride that they have just been on. For better or worse, the ride is nearly over. Memories were made, mistakes were made, progress was made.
For some the past year holds a whole lot of pain. For others, it was one giant celebration. For most it falls somewhere in the middle.
Years end, and we look backward but move forward.
Maybe it was just me and the people by whom I am surrounded, but as a whole? 2014 seemed kind of tough. If finances or health weren't a concern, then something funky was going on in a core relationship. If all was well on the surface, then things were in turmoil in the inner person. If it wasn't happening personally, then it was all over the news or Facebook and it still took a toll on one's peace of mind. It kind of felt like many people I know rode wave after wave of bad, sad, or dire news. It kind of feels like many I know are limping near the finish line of this year, bruised and beaten up.
Bring it on, 2015.
Last week was a little rough, physically speaking, for my Finny Matt. He got his fingers shut into a door, banged his head on a bookshelf and a cousin's teeth, and cracked his elbow on a hard piece of wood in our couch while jumping (how?????)
He's been a little beaten up.
In each of these situations, as he has screamed a scream that makes the hair on my arms stand at attention and my heart beat a million miles a minutes, in those first few moments all I have done is held him. I held him, as close as I could, as tight as he would let me. I didn't want to examine or fix his pain until I could calm his spirit. In those first few moments, I held him and whispered into his ear, "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, you're okay." I'm not sure if I was trying to convince myself or him.
As I was holding and whispering to him after cracking his chin on our bookshelf, it made me think of how God reacts when we feel brutally beaten up by the world in which we live. Maybe, perhaps, in those first few moments or days when we experience a sharp pain, His main priority is to hold us. He's not fixing our problem or our wound, He's not making it less painful, He's simply holding us as tight as He can.
It is tempting to get impatient with God when we feel like it takes Him too long to address our aches and pains. However, if we could tune into His whisper above our screams of pain, we may just even hear Him whisper, "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, you're okay. I've got this. We'll get through this. Hold on."
I was talking about this metaphor with my in-laws, and my father-in-law looks at me a little skeptically. "So, what if someone's arm gets ripped off and they are gushing blood? Would you still just want to hold them?"
It made me think. My metaphor-driven brain can sometimes simplify things too much, I admit.
As a mother, if this happened to my son, I would grab the arm (I think. If I could. I might gag.) But I would still hold him close as possible as we made our way to the nearest emergency room.
As our Father God, I absolutely believe that He picks up our broken pieces (which don't gross Him out at all) and still holds us tight before He begins the process of healing our wounds.
I guess I go into all of this to encourage someone who may be reading this. If your world has been rocked, or your year has been awful, or you don't know which end is up, chances are good that God is holding onto you as tight as He can.
Pay attention; you may even be able to feel His touch or hear Him whisper words of comfort.
Psalm 119:76: "May your unfailing love be my comfort, according to your promise to your servant".
Isaiah 40:11: "Like a shepherd, he will care for his flock, gathering the lambs in his arms, hugging them as he carries them, leading the nursing ewes to good pasture."
For some the past year holds a whole lot of pain. For others, it was one giant celebration. For most it falls somewhere in the middle.
Years end, and we look backward but move forward.
Maybe it was just me and the people by whom I am surrounded, but as a whole? 2014 seemed kind of tough. If finances or health weren't a concern, then something funky was going on in a core relationship. If all was well on the surface, then things were in turmoil in the inner person. If it wasn't happening personally, then it was all over the news or Facebook and it still took a toll on one's peace of mind. It kind of felt like many people I know rode wave after wave of bad, sad, or dire news. It kind of feels like many I know are limping near the finish line of this year, bruised and beaten up.
Bring it on, 2015.
Last week was a little rough, physically speaking, for my Finny Matt. He got his fingers shut into a door, banged his head on a bookshelf and a cousin's teeth, and cracked his elbow on a hard piece of wood in our couch while jumping (how?????)
He's been a little beaten up.
In each of these situations, as he has screamed a scream that makes the hair on my arms stand at attention and my heart beat a million miles a minutes, in those first few moments all I have done is held him. I held him, as close as I could, as tight as he would let me. I didn't want to examine or fix his pain until I could calm his spirit. In those first few moments, I held him and whispered into his ear, "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, you're okay." I'm not sure if I was trying to convince myself or him.
As I was holding and whispering to him after cracking his chin on our bookshelf, it made me think of how God reacts when we feel brutally beaten up by the world in which we live. Maybe, perhaps, in those first few moments or days when we experience a sharp pain, His main priority is to hold us. He's not fixing our problem or our wound, He's not making it less painful, He's simply holding us as tight as He can.
It is tempting to get impatient with God when we feel like it takes Him too long to address our aches and pains. However, if we could tune into His whisper above our screams of pain, we may just even hear Him whisper, "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay, you're okay. I've got this. We'll get through this. Hold on."
I was talking about this metaphor with my in-laws, and my father-in-law looks at me a little skeptically. "So, what if someone's arm gets ripped off and they are gushing blood? Would you still just want to hold them?"
It made me think. My metaphor-driven brain can sometimes simplify things too much, I admit.
As a mother, if this happened to my son, I would grab the arm (I think. If I could. I might gag.) But I would still hold him close as possible as we made our way to the nearest emergency room.
As our Father God, I absolutely believe that He picks up our broken pieces (which don't gross Him out at all) and still holds us tight before He begins the process of healing our wounds.
I guess I go into all of this to encourage someone who may be reading this. If your world has been rocked, or your year has been awful, or you don't know which end is up, chances are good that God is holding onto you as tight as He can.
Pay attention; you may even be able to feel His touch or hear Him whisper words of comfort.
Psalm 119:76: "May your unfailing love be my comfort, according to your promise to your servant".
Isaiah 40:11: "Like a shepherd, he will care for his flock, gathering the lambs in his arms, hugging them as he carries them, leading the nursing ewes to good pasture."
Tuesday, July 8, 2014
Safety in Darkness
Jonas' new favorite thing to do is to climb up onto his big brother's toddler bed. Maybe it is because it has a cool red blanket strewn on top of it in order to create a fort-like atmosphere. Maybe it is because Finn's bed is more fun to bounce upon. Maybe it is because he has been told over and over again NOT to do it. Judging from his mischievous smile when he gets caught, I think it may be the latter.
Last night, I followed him into the room and shadowed him as he climbed up on the bed for like, the 15th time that day. Since I am battling a nasty sore throat and fever, I just did not have the energy to lift him off again. So I joined him. I laid down in the bed with him, and if he got too close to the edge, I mustered the power to steady him.
It wasn't too long before Finn joined us. To a three year old, a situation like this screams, "PARTY IN MY BED!!!!!" Finn laughingly turned on the noise machine and turned off the light, delighting in the fact that we were having a 'sleeping party'.
Unsurprisingly, Jonas was not a fan of this new twist. The lights had been shut off for him and the fun had stopped. I could feel him in the dark grappling to find his balance because he could know longer see where he was. I felt him, ever so slowly, sidle over to me. He touched my face and my arms to make sure it was me, and then he clung to me. I spoke to him as he searched and told him he was okay.
I enjoyed every second of the snuggles, however brief they were. Because 5 seconds later, Finn bounded to the light switch again and turned the lights back on. Just like that, Jonas started scooting further away from me again. He felt safe with the light back on and so he went back to doing whatever he wanted.
Until once again, Finn hysterically shuts the light off and we are basked in darkness. Then the searching and grasping for my arm and face resumed.
This hilarity ensued for a good five minutes before mommy regained the strength to put an end to the madness.
In the light, Jonas giggled and played and made daring attempts to fly past me off of the bed. In the darkness, Jonas cuddled and clung closely to whatever part of me he could find.
And I'm laying there thinking, isn't that what we too often do with God?
When the light is on and we can see where we're going, when things are rosy and sunshiny and going our way, we edge away from Him by pursuing our own desires or whatever is making us happy and fulfilling our needs in that moment.
But when the lights go out on us, what then? We suddenly feel alone and afraid. We struggle through the darkness to find any piece of Him that we can. When we find Him, we hold on tight to His love, and strength, and peace. We know we are safe with Him in the dark.
But oh….to know that it is safe with Him in the light as well. To know that the best place to be on the brightest days of our lives is STILL right by His side, clinging to His hand.
When we remain by His side, we do not need to be afraid that the light around us might suddenly go dark.
When we remain by His side, we don't waste time trying to struggle in the darkness by ourselves.
When we remain by His side, we get to experience the brightest highs and the darkest lows with the One who loves us stronger and knows us better than we could ever imagine.
There's no safer place than that.
"For anyone out there who doesn't know where you're going, anyone groping in the dark, Here's what: Trust in God. Lean on your God." Isaiah 50:10 (MSG)
"'Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine! When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; And through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, nor will the flame burn you. For I am the Lord your God, The Holy One of Israel, your Savior; I have given Egypt as your ransom, Cush and Seba in your place. Since you are precious in my sight, Since you are honored and I love you, I will give other men in your place and other peoples in exchange for your life. Do not fear, for I am with you." Isaiah 43:1-5 (NASB)
"There are many out there taking other paths, choosing other goals, and trying to get you to go along with them. I've warned you of them many times; sadly, I'm having to do it again. All they want is easy street. They hate Christ's Cross. But easy street is a dead-end street. Those who live there make their bellies their gods; belches are their praise; all they can think of is their appetites. But there's far more to life for us. We're citizens of high heaven!" Philippians 3: 18-20 (MSG)
Last night, I followed him into the room and shadowed him as he climbed up on the bed for like, the 15th time that day. Since I am battling a nasty sore throat and fever, I just did not have the energy to lift him off again. So I joined him. I laid down in the bed with him, and if he got too close to the edge, I mustered the power to steady him.
It wasn't too long before Finn joined us. To a three year old, a situation like this screams, "PARTY IN MY BED!!!!!" Finn laughingly turned on the noise machine and turned off the light, delighting in the fact that we were having a 'sleeping party'.
Unsurprisingly, Jonas was not a fan of this new twist. The lights had been shut off for him and the fun had stopped. I could feel him in the dark grappling to find his balance because he could know longer see where he was. I felt him, ever so slowly, sidle over to me. He touched my face and my arms to make sure it was me, and then he clung to me. I spoke to him as he searched and told him he was okay.
I enjoyed every second of the snuggles, however brief they were. Because 5 seconds later, Finn bounded to the light switch again and turned the lights back on. Just like that, Jonas started scooting further away from me again. He felt safe with the light back on and so he went back to doing whatever he wanted.
Until once again, Finn hysterically shuts the light off and we are basked in darkness. Then the searching and grasping for my arm and face resumed.
This hilarity ensued for a good five minutes before mommy regained the strength to put an end to the madness.
In the light, Jonas giggled and played and made daring attempts to fly past me off of the bed. In the darkness, Jonas cuddled and clung closely to whatever part of me he could find.
And I'm laying there thinking, isn't that what we too often do with God?
When the light is on and we can see where we're going, when things are rosy and sunshiny and going our way, we edge away from Him by pursuing our own desires or whatever is making us happy and fulfilling our needs in that moment.
But when the lights go out on us, what then? We suddenly feel alone and afraid. We struggle through the darkness to find any piece of Him that we can. When we find Him, we hold on tight to His love, and strength, and peace. We know we are safe with Him in the dark.
But oh….to know that it is safe with Him in the light as well. To know that the best place to be on the brightest days of our lives is STILL right by His side, clinging to His hand.
When we remain by His side, we do not need to be afraid that the light around us might suddenly go dark.
When we remain by His side, we don't waste time trying to struggle in the darkness by ourselves.
When we remain by His side, we get to experience the brightest highs and the darkest lows with the One who loves us stronger and knows us better than we could ever imagine.
There's no safer place than that.
"For anyone out there who doesn't know where you're going, anyone groping in the dark, Here's what: Trust in God. Lean on your God." Isaiah 50:10 (MSG)
"'Do not fear, for I have redeemed you; I have called you by name; you are Mine! When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; And through the rivers, they will not overflow you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be scorched, nor will the flame burn you. For I am the Lord your God, The Holy One of Israel, your Savior; I have given Egypt as your ransom, Cush and Seba in your place. Since you are precious in my sight, Since you are honored and I love you, I will give other men in your place and other peoples in exchange for your life. Do not fear, for I am with you." Isaiah 43:1-5 (NASB)
"There are many out there taking other paths, choosing other goals, and trying to get you to go along with them. I've warned you of them many times; sadly, I'm having to do it again. All they want is easy street. They hate Christ's Cross. But easy street is a dead-end street. Those who live there make their bellies their gods; belches are their praise; all they can think of is their appetites. But there's far more to life for us. We're citizens of high heaven!" Philippians 3: 18-20 (MSG)
Saturday, June 14, 2014
A Daddy's Day Post
Growing up, I was never super gung ho about Father's Day.
I mean, it was fine.
I would get a card and make sure I told my dad that I loved him. I think I bought a gift a time or two.
My dad just never seemed very into celebrations…which takes some of the fun out of celebrating.
I loved my dad, but there wasn't always a desire to celebrate him.
My mom, on the other hand, was the queen of celebrations. Because of this, as well as her stellar care of us that went above and beyond what was required, us kids would often get my mom a card on Father's Day as well.
I say all of this to explain why it is a big deal that I am really looking forward to CELEBRATING Father's Day tomorrow.
Matt is a father worth celebrating.
He is a father who rocks Finn nearly every night before bed, all while singing the exact same 3 songs (in the exact same order) that Finn insists upon.
He is a father who gets Finn to brush his teeth by laughing, which gets Finn to brush even longer and harder, if only to make daddy laugh some more.
He is a father who has cleaned and scrubbed pukey sheets and held feverish boys.
He is a father who will stop while mowing the lawn just to catch a frog so that Finn can play with it.
He is a father who goes out of his way to stop and get "superhero" juice.
He is a father who drops what he is doing to help walk us out to the car after church so that we know that he is there for us even when others are wanting his attention.
He is a father who will sit on the floor and foster imagination by telling elaborate superhero stories.
He is a father who lets Finn sit on his lap nearly every morning as he drinks his coffee and gives him the coveted egg from his breakfast sandwich.
He is a father who doesn't shy away from a poopy diaper.
He is a father who cares enough to discipline his sons and teach them right from wrong. He leads by example, yet corrects when needed.
Maybe most importantly, he is a father who loves his boys' mother. They will know how to be amazing husbands someday by watching and learning how their daddy does it. He values and prioritizes us, and lets us all know that we are special to him.
Fathers like these are rare, a true gift. I am so thankful that my sons have a father that they can look up to and trust his leading.
These things are not to be taken lightly, no matter how menial they may seem.
By watching their daddy, Finn and Jonas will know how to love others well, how to be men of integrity, and how to live a life that glorifies God most of all.
In many ways, I feel like God is restoring the lost relationship that I had with my father by giving me a front row seat to watch Matt father our boys.
God doesn't skimp on blessings, after all.
I mean, it was fine.
I would get a card and make sure I told my dad that I loved him. I think I bought a gift a time or two.
My dad just never seemed very into celebrations…which takes some of the fun out of celebrating.
I loved my dad, but there wasn't always a desire to celebrate him.
My mom, on the other hand, was the queen of celebrations. Because of this, as well as her stellar care of us that went above and beyond what was required, us kids would often get my mom a card on Father's Day as well.
I say all of this to explain why it is a big deal that I am really looking forward to CELEBRATING Father's Day tomorrow.
Matt is a father worth celebrating.
He is a father who rocks Finn nearly every night before bed, all while singing the exact same 3 songs (in the exact same order) that Finn insists upon.
He is a father who gets Finn to brush his teeth by laughing, which gets Finn to brush even longer and harder, if only to make daddy laugh some more.
He is a father who has cleaned and scrubbed pukey sheets and held feverish boys.
He is a father who will stop while mowing the lawn just to catch a frog so that Finn can play with it.
He is a father who goes out of his way to stop and get "superhero" juice.
He is a father who drops what he is doing to help walk us out to the car after church so that we know that he is there for us even when others are wanting his attention.
He is a father who will sit on the floor and foster imagination by telling elaborate superhero stories.
He is a father who lets Finn sit on his lap nearly every morning as he drinks his coffee and gives him the coveted egg from his breakfast sandwich.
He is a father who doesn't shy away from a poopy diaper.
He is a father who cares enough to discipline his sons and teach them right from wrong. He leads by example, yet corrects when needed.
Maybe most importantly, he is a father who loves his boys' mother. They will know how to be amazing husbands someday by watching and learning how their daddy does it. He values and prioritizes us, and lets us all know that we are special to him.
Fathers like these are rare, a true gift. I am so thankful that my sons have a father that they can look up to and trust his leading.
These things are not to be taken lightly, no matter how menial they may seem.
By watching their daddy, Finn and Jonas will know how to love others well, how to be men of integrity, and how to live a life that glorifies God most of all.
In many ways, I feel like God is restoring the lost relationship that I had with my father by giving me a front row seat to watch Matt father our boys.
God doesn't skimp on blessings, after all.
Saturday, March 8, 2014
Letting Go
My oldest son, even with his abundance of energy and independence, has always been a snuggler. The other day as we cuddled after he woke up from his nap, I asked him,
"Finn, will you promise to cuddle with me forever?"
With all seriousness, he looked at me and perked up immediately and responded,
"I have to fight lions and monsters first!"
But of course! So…
I let him go.
He exploded off the couch and brandished his styrofoam sword and ran off to conquer those pesky lions and monsters.
He is an adventurer at heart.
He is feisty and sweet and shy and social and loathes loud noises. He is one hundred other, unique things; and he is an adventurer at heart.
Because of that, I know that I will spend the rest of my life letting him go.
Letting him go to preschool, and then school.
Letting him go hang out with friends, and drive, and date.
Letting him go to move out and move on and head to college and career.
And every time I let him go, a little piece of me will go with him.
There is so much inside of me that wants to cling him to me and keep him close always. I dread the days when he will leave me with an actual aching in my heart.
But the older that my boys get, and the more independence that they exert, the more I realize that when I love them the way that I need to - with kisses and cuddles and spoken words - it doesn't always resonate with them.
When I cuddle and coo, it is mostly just an expression of what I am feeling in that moment. When I say, "I love you" to my boys 639 times a day, it is because I truly feel it at those moments. Those kinds of things meet my need to express my love to them.
However, to truly speak the language of looooove, it must be communicated in a way that the receiver knows it and feels it.
When I sit on the floor and play Little People? When I let Finn use his superpowers to turn me into a princess and the kitchen table becomes my castle? When I pick Jonas up from his crying in the middle of the night to comfort him when all I want to do is pull the pillow over my head and sleep?
That's love in their language.
My own mom has become an expert at this as my siblings and I have gotten older. She actively seeks out our worlds and when she spends time with us, she wants it to be doing something that makes us feel attended to. That's why she sits and watches tv shows with Missy and shows care for her animals. It's why she goes shopping and sips coffee during conversation with Kiki. It's why she engages in football games that she watches with Josh, asking questions so he can explain it to her. It's why she speaks with me about music and psychology and allows me to pick her brain about everything.
Parenthood is a continual letting go. But there is an upside of letting go, and that is when you grasp the opportunities to step inside your children's worlds and be active participants in them. I guarantee you that they will never feel more loved or invested in than when they feel that you care about the things that interest them.
It's speaking their language.
"Finn, will you promise to cuddle with me forever?"
With all seriousness, he looked at me and perked up immediately and responded,
"I have to fight lions and monsters first!"
But of course! So…
I let him go.
He exploded off the couch and brandished his styrofoam sword and ran off to conquer those pesky lions and monsters.
He is an adventurer at heart.
He is feisty and sweet and shy and social and loathes loud noises. He is one hundred other, unique things; and he is an adventurer at heart.
Because of that, I know that I will spend the rest of my life letting him go.
Letting him go to preschool, and then school.
Letting him go hang out with friends, and drive, and date.
Letting him go to move out and move on and head to college and career.
And every time I let him go, a little piece of me will go with him.
There is so much inside of me that wants to cling him to me and keep him close always. I dread the days when he will leave me with an actual aching in my heart.
But the older that my boys get, and the more independence that they exert, the more I realize that when I love them the way that I need to - with kisses and cuddles and spoken words - it doesn't always resonate with them.
When I cuddle and coo, it is mostly just an expression of what I am feeling in that moment. When I say, "I love you" to my boys 639 times a day, it is because I truly feel it at those moments. Those kinds of things meet my need to express my love to them.
When I sit on the floor and play Little People? When I let Finn use his superpowers to turn me into a princess and the kitchen table becomes my castle? When I pick Jonas up from his crying in the middle of the night to comfort him when all I want to do is pull the pillow over my head and sleep?
That's love in their language.
My own mom has become an expert at this as my siblings and I have gotten older. She actively seeks out our worlds and when she spends time with us, she wants it to be doing something that makes us feel attended to. That's why she sits and watches tv shows with Missy and shows care for her animals. It's why she goes shopping and sips coffee during conversation with Kiki. It's why she engages in football games that she watches with Josh, asking questions so he can explain it to her. It's why she speaks with me about music and psychology and allows me to pick her brain about everything.
Parenthood is a continual letting go. But there is an upside of letting go, and that is when you grasp the opportunities to step inside your children's worlds and be active participants in them. I guarantee you that they will never feel more loved or invested in than when they feel that you care about the things that interest them.
It's speaking their language.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Mostly Stay-at-Home Mommy
Welp, tomorrow I officially become a working mommy!
I begin my first post-masters job, my first job where I hold the title of "Counselor".
Excitement ensues!
I am so very thankful that God blessed me with a job where I can work 5-10 hours a week as a counselor, yet still be mostly a stay-at-home mommy to our two amazing boys.
Which is crazy, because I never ever saw myself as the stay-at-home mommy type.
When I was in my lower twenties and would think about having kids, I would find myself thinking that having kids would be much more suitable for me if I could bypass the baby, toddler, and preschool stages. School age kids were my forte, my niche. I wanted the freedom to send them to school and out to play with their friends. I did not want the responsibility of a little person shadow.
I wanted to work. I wanted to send my kids to daycare and school. I wanted my independence.
Even when I was a little girl, I only kind of sort of enjoyed playing with dolls. I much preferred playing with Barbies because I could pick out super cute outfits, style their hair, and take them to lavish parties. Or if no Barbie threw a party that weekend, the mall.
My Cabbage Patch dolls, meanwhile, hung around - mostly neglected - in the corner of my room.
I was not exactly a nurturer.
But then I got pregnant. And the thought of going back to work full time sort of made me want to vomit.
So Matt and I talked about it. He wanted me to stay home. I wanted to stay home. We cut way back on the way we lived to make it work.
God has provided every single step of the way. Now that we have two boys at home, God provides in even more amazing ways.
He is faithful.
I am so grateful that being a mostly stay-at-home mom is even an option for us. I realize that there are many mommies who do not have the choice but who have the decision made for them by a myriad of circumstances.
I know that while I am working, I will miss my two scrunchy ones at home. I will wonder what they are playing with, what they are laughing at, and why they might be crying.
But I also know that I will be doing good work. I will be giving support to other kids who really need it. I will be spilling forth from the overflow of love in my life.
As a pre-freaky Miley Cyrus once sang, it will be "the best of both worlds"!!
I will get a taste of being that working mommy that I always assumed I would be.
A taste is enough.
As much as I enjoy leaving the house without a diaper bag and car seat in tow, I really really love driving home to my adorable ones. And walking through the door at home?
Whew. Nothing like it.
I begin my first post-masters job, my first job where I hold the title of "Counselor".
Excitement ensues!
I am so very thankful that God blessed me with a job where I can work 5-10 hours a week as a counselor, yet still be mostly a stay-at-home mommy to our two amazing boys.
Which is crazy, because I never ever saw myself as the stay-at-home mommy type.
When I was in my lower twenties and would think about having kids, I would find myself thinking that having kids would be much more suitable for me if I could bypass the baby, toddler, and preschool stages. School age kids were my forte, my niche. I wanted the freedom to send them to school and out to play with their friends. I did not want the responsibility of a little person shadow.
I wanted to work. I wanted to send my kids to daycare and school. I wanted my independence.
Even when I was a little girl, I only kind of sort of enjoyed playing with dolls. I much preferred playing with Barbies because I could pick out super cute outfits, style their hair, and take them to lavish parties. Or if no Barbie threw a party that weekend, the mall.
My Cabbage Patch dolls, meanwhile, hung around - mostly neglected - in the corner of my room.
I was not exactly a nurturer.
But then I got pregnant. And the thought of going back to work full time sort of made me want to vomit.
So Matt and I talked about it. He wanted me to stay home. I wanted to stay home. We cut way back on the way we lived to make it work.
God has provided every single step of the way. Now that we have two boys at home, God provides in even more amazing ways.
He is faithful.
I am so grateful that being a mostly stay-at-home mom is even an option for us. I realize that there are many mommies who do not have the choice but who have the decision made for them by a myriad of circumstances.
I know that while I am working, I will miss my two scrunchy ones at home. I will wonder what they are playing with, what they are laughing at, and why they might be crying.
But I also know that I will be doing good work. I will be giving support to other kids who really need it. I will be spilling forth from the overflow of love in my life.
As a pre-freaky Miley Cyrus once sang, it will be "the best of both worlds"!!
I will get a taste of being that working mommy that I always assumed I would be.
A taste is enough.
As much as I enjoy leaving the house without a diaper bag and car seat in tow, I really really love driving home to my adorable ones. And walking through the door at home?
Whew. Nothing like it.
Saturday, September 7, 2013
Wild Rumpus
"And when he came to the place where the wild things are they roared their terrible roars and
gnashed their terrible teeth and
rolled their terrible eyes and
showed their terrible claws till
Max said "BE STILL!" and
tamed them with the magic trick of staring into
all their yellow eyes without blinking once and
they were frightened and called him the most wild thing of all..."
- Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak
We have been dealing with a most formidable foe at the Fjerkenstad household the last few weeks:
Fear.
For the first time, Finn has been truly fearful of certain things. Most of these fears seem to matriculate when it is time for bed. Even for a two year old, life is scariest when one is alone and things are dark.
I have been admittedly a bit baffled by this fearfulness, if only because it seems to have come on so suddenly. Where did my brave, independent boy go? He who used to revel in being given the freedom to play alone in the basement now frantically chases us up the stairs if we start to leave him. Is it just a developmental phase or is this fearfulness a byproduct of something else in his life?
Since this is all new for us, I have been treading carefully when it comes to handling Finn's fear. Essentially, I want to teach Finn to manage his own fear. I don't want my big boy to face his life afraid and shrinking back from things.
In other words, I don't want him to handle fear the way that I did for many, many years. I've learned it doesn't go away if you ignore it......it just gains more power and grows more frightening.
The way I see it, starting now, however we help him deal with fear builds the foundation for how he will deal with fear for the rest of his life.
No pressure.
I feel as though it is a balancing act between listening to him tell his fears but not allowing him to dwell in them.
I want to seek to understand without fostering the fear and making it worse.
I want to let him know that his fears are heard but also that they have no power over him.
I want to hold him when he is afraid but I also want him to know that he is brave and strong and can conquer them on his own.
I want to throw one arm around him in comfort and use the other arm to equip him with a weapon to fight back the fear.
My best friend was over a few weeks ago while I was putting Finn to bed (Bachelorette finale - woop woop!) In his fear as I laid him down, he wanted me to leave the door open and the hallway light on. I did, but as I wandered out to Chanelle in the living room, I sought her advice on how she handled this phase with her own 3 sweet kids.
She quickly asked me, "Did you pray with him?"
Ummmmmmmmmmm..........no.
How had I not even thought of that?! I have prayed for him but I had honestly never thought to pray with him. Praying with him welcomes him into the process and it teaches him through my example.
If I am going to equip Finn to face and deal with his fears, then prayer is the first and last of weapons that I need to be giving him.
Duh. Thanks Chanelle!
The way that I see it, if our fears are like the yellow-eyed, gnashy monsters from "Where the Wild Things Are", then prayer is yelling "BE STILL!" directly at them.
"...Yell a loud no to the devil and watch him scamper. Say a quiet yes to God and He'll be there in no time..." - James 4:7 (MSG).
Now when Finn feels the very real and intense emotion of fear, I pray with him. I am beginning to teach him that he is not alone because he has a Heavenly Father who is ever with him and for him. It is my hope that as he matures, he will realize this truth in greater and increasing measures.
'And now', cried Max, 'Let the wild rumpus start!'" WTWTA
Tuesday, June 11, 2013
Refrigerator Mess
Last night I was nesting in a major way. I gutted and cleaned my refrigerator, which is something that I haven't done in .... months.
I filled our trash can to overflowing with expired food and meals from last week and weeks previous.
I had our condiment bottles set out on the floor and Finn would bring his soccer ball in and try to bowl them over. It was hilarious and cute.
It was not long after this fact, however, that I heard a "Boom!" and was surprised by some thrown-away spaghetti noodles and sauce jumping into my cleaner than ever fridge.
Slowly it dawned on me what happened. I closed the refrigerator door and discovered that Finn, while playing with his soccer ball, had knocked over the entire trash can.
There was food.........gross, expired, smelly, noodley food...........everywhere.
I scolded him handedly, maybe shed a hormonal tear or two, and ordered him out of the kitchen while I processed what to begin cleaning first.
As I cleaned, I calmed down........I knew that it was just a simple 2 year-old mistake.
Since it took me thirty minutes to clean it all up............I had plenty of time to work my way to calm.
All of this to say:
I sat down with Finn after I had the mess cleaned up. At first he didn't want to come near me because he had seen my mad face and heard my mad voice.
When I told him, "Mommy isn't mad anymore. She just wants to love on you." He says, "Okay," and comes right to me.
I put him up on the table as I sat in a kitchen chair so that we were nearly eye level.....and the first thing that I tell him is,
"Finn, I love you very much."
In the aftermath of all of the hullaballoo, that was the very first thing that I wanted him to hear from me.
His actions upset me, yes. But my love for him was not swayed for a moment. There, as we began communicating about the situation, was the perfect and most ideal time to let him know that I loved him. I felt it flowing through me as I sat down to talk with him and I just had to tell him.
It has been awhile since I have written about comparing God's love to parental love........but this is one of those posts.
Because in all of the thousands of ways that I mess up (it happens all the time really), I still feel God's love beating for me in everything that surrounds.
In fact, I think that when I do mess up and then come to Him to communicate about it, that's the first thing that He wants me to know:
"Gretchen, I love you very much."
God operates from a position of overwhelming, overcoming love......always.
Much like Finn didn't want to come near me until he knew I just wanted to love him, it is often hard for us to come near God until we understand the way He loves.
"Watch what God does, and then you do it, like children who learn proper behavior from their parents. Mostly what God does is love you. Keep company with him and learn a life of love. Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn't love in order to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us. Love like that." - Ephesians 5:1-2
That's where He begins and ends........in love.
That's where all of His dealings with us happen.......in love.
That's the lens through which He sees our messes...........in love.
How awesome is that? How utterly reassuring and peace-giving is that?!
I know I feel better :).
1 John 3:1: "How GREAT is the LOVE the Father has LAVISHED on us, that we should be called the CHILDREN OF GOD! And that IS what we ARE!"
I filled our trash can to overflowing with expired food and meals from last week and weeks previous.
I had our condiment bottles set out on the floor and Finn would bring his soccer ball in and try to bowl them over. It was hilarious and cute.
It was not long after this fact, however, that I heard a "Boom!" and was surprised by some thrown-away spaghetti noodles and sauce jumping into my cleaner than ever fridge.
Slowly it dawned on me what happened. I closed the refrigerator door and discovered that Finn, while playing with his soccer ball, had knocked over the entire trash can.
There was food.........gross, expired, smelly, noodley food...........everywhere.
I scolded him handedly, maybe shed a hormonal tear or two, and ordered him out of the kitchen while I processed what to begin cleaning first.
As I cleaned, I calmed down........I knew that it was just a simple 2 year-old mistake.
Since it took me thirty minutes to clean it all up............I had plenty of time to work my way to calm.
All of this to say:
I sat down with Finn after I had the mess cleaned up. At first he didn't want to come near me because he had seen my mad face and heard my mad voice.
When I told him, "Mommy isn't mad anymore. She just wants to love on you." He says, "Okay," and comes right to me.
I put him up on the table as I sat in a kitchen chair so that we were nearly eye level.....and the first thing that I tell him is,
"Finn, I love you very much."
In the aftermath of all of the hullaballoo, that was the very first thing that I wanted him to hear from me.
His actions upset me, yes. But my love for him was not swayed for a moment. There, as we began communicating about the situation, was the perfect and most ideal time to let him know that I loved him. I felt it flowing through me as I sat down to talk with him and I just had to tell him.
It has been awhile since I have written about comparing God's love to parental love........but this is one of those posts.
Because in all of the thousands of ways that I mess up (it happens all the time really), I still feel God's love beating for me in everything that surrounds.
In fact, I think that when I do mess up and then come to Him to communicate about it, that's the first thing that He wants me to know:
"Gretchen, I love you very much."
God operates from a position of overwhelming, overcoming love......always.
Much like Finn didn't want to come near me until he knew I just wanted to love him, it is often hard for us to come near God until we understand the way He loves.
"Watch what God does, and then you do it, like children who learn proper behavior from their parents. Mostly what God does is love you. Keep company with him and learn a life of love. Observe how Christ loved us. His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn't love in order to get something from us but to give everything of himself to us. Love like that." - Ephesians 5:1-2
That's where He begins and ends........in love.
That's where all of His dealings with us happen.......in love.
That's the lens through which He sees our messes...........in love.
How awesome is that? How utterly reassuring and peace-giving is that?!
I know I feel better :).
1 John 3:1: "How GREAT is the LOVE the Father has LAVISHED on us, that we should be called the CHILDREN OF GOD! And that IS what we ARE!"
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
A Bad Case of Stripes
When I first started working towards my masters degree in school counseling, I was single, childless, and highly motivated to do well and attain one of those semi-elusive school counselor positions.
Years passed. I met this most wonderful man:
I had never heard of this book before; it was titled "A Bad Case of Stripes" by David Shannon.
This book is about a little girl who loves lima beans. However, before she starts her first day of school, she decides that she must hide her love of lima beans because loving lima beans is........well.......weird. Unfortunately, as she hides this love and tries to be like everyone else, she finds that she far too easily becomes what people tell her to become. When someone says stripes, her skin turns into stripes; same thing when someone talks about polka dots, an American flag, a rainbow, etc. Whatever people suggest, she turns into. They say it, she becomes it.
She is completely at their mercy, simply because she was caught up in thinking she needed to be like everyone else.
There were moments these past few months when I have felt that way, as though the only proper exclamation point on the end of this whirlwind year would be a full time school counselor position. It has definitely seemed enticing at times.
Since I graduated, I have been asked many, many times: "What are your plans?"
And truth be told, there have been times when I have been embarrassed to say, "Well, I really want to be home with my boys, so I am looking for something part time so that I can utilize my degree but not miss moments with them."
It sounds simple enough to speak those words......but sometimes it is difficult.
For some reason, at times, that answer seems like not enough. Which has made me feel like not enough.
I feel like I should want and aspire to a full time job where I can use my degree. After all, what if all of those years were for nothing? What if I toiled and tried and cried my way through those classes for no payoff?
Yet as I was reading this children's book to a table of adorable kindergarten girls, it hit me.
I just need to eat my lima beans.
I need to stop worrying about what others might think. I need to accept what I feel that God has called me to for our family. I need to stop asking myself those obnoxious "what if" questions.
I know that the road I am choosing is not an easy one. But I also believe that it is blessed because God is leading me down it. I am positive with every inch of my being that I will not look back at my life 30 years from now and regret the choice to spend as many moments with my boys as possible.
The world may say "go out and use your degree immediately", but my heart speaks something different.
I want to be a school counselor full time someday..............just.................not yet.
It's funny the lessons one can learn from a children's book.
Years passed. I met this most wonderful man:
(maybe you know him?).
We fell in love. We got married. We procreated.
Upon the birth of our son, Finn Matthew, I fell in love again:
(maybe you could see how?)
And all of a sudden, all that I wanted to do was to be with this little man. I didn't want to miss a moment or a happening. I wanted to be the one to lay him down for every nap and the first one to see his chirpy little face when he woke up.
I wasn't a perfect mommy. I got frustrated. I struggled with the surrender of my selfish desires so that I could better meet his needs. I got lonely on days when he was my only human interaction. I didn't clean the house every day (or every week....cough cough).
I wasn't a perfect mommy. I got frustrated. I struggled with the surrender of my selfish desires so that I could better meet his needs. I got lonely on days when he was my only human interaction. I didn't clean the house every day (or every week....cough cough).
When I took a year off from school to revel and indulge in Finn's first few months of life, it was very difficult to imagine finishing the degree that I had started sooooooooooo long ago - we're talking 2007 here!
I moaned, I groaned, and I wondered - often - what it would be like to not finish at all.
Long story short.......I went back. I finished.
(See?)
With the support of the most amazing team of people behind me that believed in me and by relying on God's strength when mine gave out, the driving force that helped me to finish was hoping that when all was said and done, I could be with my boy.
When I found out halfway through last semester that we were expecting another sweet baboose, I received an extra boost of drive. I knew that it was not an easy calling and that in many ways, working a full time job outside of the home would be easier and less stressful than mommy duty. But yet.......
When I found out halfway through last semester that we were expecting another sweet baboose, I received an extra boost of drive. I knew that it was not an easy calling and that in many ways, working a full time job outside of the home would be easier and less stressful than mommy duty. But yet.......
all I wanted was to hit graduation so that I could be home with my boys.
Last month, I was having lunch with 4 Kindergarten girls. As they ate, we chatted. Then one of them handed me a book and asked me to read it.
I had never heard of this book before; it was titled "A Bad Case of Stripes" by David Shannon.
This book is about a little girl who loves lima beans. However, before she starts her first day of school, she decides that she must hide her love of lima beans because loving lima beans is........well.......weird. Unfortunately, as she hides this love and tries to be like everyone else, she finds that she far too easily becomes what people tell her to become. When someone says stripes, her skin turns into stripes; same thing when someone talks about polka dots, an American flag, a rainbow, etc. Whatever people suggest, she turns into. They say it, she becomes it.
She is completely at their mercy, simply because she was caught up in thinking she needed to be like everyone else.
There were moments these past few months when I have felt that way, as though the only proper exclamation point on the end of this whirlwind year would be a full time school counselor position. It has definitely seemed enticing at times.
Since I graduated, I have been asked many, many times: "What are your plans?"
And truth be told, there have been times when I have been embarrassed to say, "Well, I really want to be home with my boys, so I am looking for something part time so that I can utilize my degree but not miss moments with them."
It sounds simple enough to speak those words......but sometimes it is difficult.
For some reason, at times, that answer seems like not enough. Which has made me feel like not enough.
I feel like I should want and aspire to a full time job where I can use my degree. After all, what if all of those years were for nothing? What if I toiled and tried and cried my way through those classes for no payoff?
Yet as I was reading this children's book to a table of adorable kindergarten girls, it hit me.
I just need to eat my lima beans.
I need to stop worrying about what others might think. I need to accept what I feel that God has called me to for our family. I need to stop asking myself those obnoxious "what if" questions.
I know that the road I am choosing is not an easy one. But I also believe that it is blessed because God is leading me down it. I am positive with every inch of my being that I will not look back at my life 30 years from now and regret the choice to spend as many moments with my boys as possible.
The world may say "go out and use your degree immediately", but my heart speaks something different.
I want to be a school counselor full time someday..............just.................not yet.
It's funny the lessons one can learn from a children's book.
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