Saying good-bye

Today I find myself saying good-bye.  Grieving the loss of something very good in exchange for something better.  I’m not sad, but I’m aware of the exchange that is about to happen.  Change, even the best changes, require a letting go of something else. 

The change I anticipate is going from a family of four to a family of five.  Five!  I’m so excited to welcome this little girl.  I can’t wait to meet her and for her to meet her daddy.  I get giddy at the thought of introducing her to her brothers.   I’m eager to watch the love and the bonds grow between Daddy and Daughter, between Titus and Sister, between Micah and Baby.  And of course my own falling-in-love-all-over-again experience with her. 

But for today I need to remember and enjoy what it’s like to be a family of four.  To read books with Titus and Micah this evening and realize that the moments of snuggling with one arm for each are numbered.  To load everyone up in the car and realize that one parent for one child is about to end.  To sneak in to kiss sleeping boys and go to my quiet room to sleep all night (sort of maybe) and know that the all night will soon become a series of very broken nights.  To savor the sweetness in my relationship with each of my sons, and to know that it will grow, but change, as a new person joins our family.

I can’t wait to meet her.  But today I’m saying good-bye to our life as it has been.  It has been amazing. 

Bedtime whisperings

The last of the last of the last of the bedtime routine has morphed into some kind of competition over who says “I love you” last.  This has led to hysterical crying on more than one occasion.  Since I do not understand the rules of the competition and how to help everyone “win” at this, I try to change the game.  We’ve been ending the day differently, and often it leads to some quiet talking with each boy as they settle down for the night.  How I love to hear their thoughts as they begin to unpack all the experiences they’ve had in the day!

Last night Titus was apparently thinking about the up-coming trip to Florida for a friend’s wedding.  He asked me about the airplane: “Will Daddy ride on the airplane?”  “Yes, Daddy will ride on the airplane.”  “Will Mama ride on the airplane?” “Yes, Titus, I’ll be on the airplane.”  “Will Micah be on the airplane?” “Yes, Micah too.”  “Will I be on the airplane?” “Yes, you too, Titus.”  “All of the family?” “Yes, all of the family, Titus.”  I am so proud of my son for seeking answers to questions that are clearly causing him anxiety.  He’s asked me about this several times, and each time seems relieved to know that we will ALL be there.

For Micah, last night’s pondering were less clear to me.  “Mama,” he said, “I’m not going to bring any toys to the meeting.”  “Okay, Micah…”  what meeting?  Early this morning he announced that he needed to go tell Titus that he is not going to bring any toys to the meeting.  I'm wondering if Titus understood that more than I did!

You have your hands full!

“You have your hands full.” 

I’ve heard this often in the last three years.  I’ve even said it to other mothers.  It’s not an untrue statement.  Many days, my hands are literally FULL.  I’ve often joked that at least with twins I have one hand for each.  

But this statement often sounds like this:  “SIGH… You have your hands (too) full.”

Recently someone said this to me at least three times in the course of a Sunday morning.  Then she said, “And you have another one coming! (sigh!)”  (how terrible!)  “I guess you’re done after this!”

OUCH.  This stung. 

As if children are a burden.  A season of life to be endured.  Infancy a series of sleepless nights and diaper changes. The toddler years a blur of time-outs and temper tantrums.  School days a gauntlet of homework and social upheaval.  The teenage years a battle of wills and hormonal terrors.  And every additional child simply a prolonging and repetition of these seasons.

May it not be. 

Yes, there are hard days in our home.  We’ve been tired and we’ve snapped at each other and we’ve cried and we cleaned up poop and we’ve wondered when bedtime would come.  We’ve had long nights and longer days.  We’ve “just wanted a break.” 

And then we’re right back in there.  With joyful spinning around the room (“Daddy, the house is tilting”) and new books from the library to delight over, and recitation of favorite Bible verses, and hugs and I-Love-You’s freely given and received.  With prayers over ouchies and forgiveness for hurt feelings and learning new words ("turnstile," "dromedary").  With sunshine on blond heads and digging in the dirt for bugs and painting pictures of dinosaurs and rocketships.  With uncontrollable laughter and smiles that can change the whole day.  

And I can’t wait to open my full hands to another, who will undoubtedly leave my hands more than full (I don’t have three hands).  And will leave my heart overflowing. 

In the still of the night

The middle of the night and early morning have become welcome quiet spaces for me recently.  Somehow I'm learning to relish the 4am wake-up calls from a certain little boy and the pregnancy insomnia that makes me alert at odd hours of the night.  When else do I feel so free from responsibilities and able to read, to pray, to let my mind wander? 

This evening I had some lovely quiet time with my boys, as I helped to ease them into sleep in a place away from home.  They were giddy with the fun of sleeping at Papa and Nana's house and excited about waking up to Daddy coming home tomorrow.  As they went from bouncing to wriggling to fidgeting to stillness, I had a chance to reflect and simply soak up the moment.

It is a good place to be.  Sandwiched on one side by twenty-three days that I faced with anxiety, long days without a parenting partner, broken phone conversations, devotions and verses said without Daddy's help.  Sandwiched on the other side by exhaustion and re-entry to "normal" life, hard conversations about the future, decisions about jobs and budgets and child care. 

But tonight... tonight is good.  I can soak in this moment with my sons and look forward to waking to my husband's return in the morning.   Best of all, I trust in the God who carried us through these twenty-three days, gifted me with this moment of peace and joy, and will walk with us through whatever the coming days hold. 

The only thing that counts

I like to DO something.  I want to be active, engaged, fixing rather than fretting, using my hands, using my words.  So when I read Galatians 5:6b, I focus on the "doing" part.  Here's what it says:

The only thing that counts is faith expressing itself through love.

I immediately zoom in on the "expressing" part... that's the part that calls for action.  That's what counts, where it's at... the active expression of love. 

However, a closer look reveals that the phrase "expressing itself through love" is a description linked to the main object of the sentence: faith.  The only thing that counts is faith.

My faith is in God and in His son Jesus.  This faith means that I accept every aspect of His character.  Such as:

God is love. 1 Jn 4:16 

God is truth.  Jn 14:6 

God is holy.  Lev 11:44

I cannot have faith in a God who loves me and live as if my life is insignificant.  This denies the God who calls me His beloved. 

I cannot have faith in a God of truth and think that His promises do not apply to me.  This denies the God who has given me "these very great and precious promises." 2 Pet 1:4

I cannot have faith in a God of holiness and believe that He will "understand" my weakness if I harden my heart to His call.  This denies the need for Jesus' death as a way to bring me back to God.

I could go on.  Faith is not a mental mind-game, a "yes, I believe in God."  It overtakes every aspect of my life, every thought, every decision, every action.  

Everything that does not come from faith is sin.

Rom 14:23b

Whatever thoughts I think, decisions I make, actions I take, if they are not rooted and grounded in true faith in a God of love, truth, and holiness, they are sinful.  They cannot stand.  They will not stand. 

 

I join the father in Mark 9:24, pleading:

I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!

 

Tuesday's awards

Sweetest: Titus bringing Micah's new toy truck to him upstairs.  "I found this for you Micah."

Funniest: Titus and Micah playing hockey together, and saying "fight, fight."  Then they wanted to put gloves on "because hockey guys wear gloves" and presumably because they take them off to fight.  (I'm not sure this is actually funny, but I know that Daddy will think it is!)

Most precious: Prayer time, Micah: "and help us to sleep well and help us to not do bad things."  Titus: "and thank you for our lunch and our family..."


Most refreshing: A visit from a friend who I don't get to see often, seeing Micah and Titus laugh and laugh with her.

Three Ways to Change the Day

Some days just need a change in them, you know?  Nothing terrible has happened, but the time is dragging or you feel irritable or children are restless.  Here's three simple things that I find helpful for us.

1. Music!
I enjoy quiet too much to play music all day, so sometimes I forget to turn it on at all.  However, if I am feeling sluggish or I have a cleaning task, there's nothing like some upbeat music to energize me.  If my mind is taking all the wrong turns, I need to turn on some praise or scripture music to get back on track.

For my children, there is something hypnotic about Veggie Tales music... no joke!  They will play more independently and contentedly without me if Veggie Tales are setting the soundtrack.  We also have music that they love to dance to (Sandra Boynton and some of the Slugs and Bugs).  Recently, they have been absolutely captivated by a library CD, Jazz for Babies.  The several times I've played it, they've sat and listened, not doing anything else other than getting out toy instruments to join in and asking "what song comes next?"  Wow. 

2. Friends
Sometimes you just need a fresh face to change the tone of a day.  I can't count how many days have been rescued by a visit from a friend.  Seeing someone else's perspective, hearing their stories, playing games their way... these all help to get us out of our ruts.  This strategy is harder for me to implement spontaneously, but I try to schedule it in often enough that it comes on those days when we really need it. 

3. Prayer
You know those days when everything seems to go wrong?  By 8am, you've already given a succession of time-outs, or the afternoon has been filled with tears instead of smiles?  Those are moments we take to Jesus.  We bring our tear-stained cheeks, our rebellious hearts, our weary bodies and we ask for grace and help, for joy, and for peace in our home.  I LOVE LOVE to be able to talk to my children an hour later or at bedtime and remind them what we prayed for and show them how kindly and clearly God answered our prayer.  This happens all the time!  

What strategies do you use when you need a change in your day?