Easter Week With Littles - Looking For Something More

April 22nd, 2011

It’s Easter Week.  I’ve had plans for weeks of things we could do, but as usual when I plan, somehow it just doesn’t work out as well as when I just wing it and move when I feel moved.  Last year, for example, I didn’t plan at all, but ended up having one of the most meaningful Easter weeks ever.  It was amazing.  (See It Is Finished, What Have You Done, Then They Remembered His Words, and Children’s Thoughts on Non-Childish Things)  So, I planned 2 different things this year and after trying it at first (we did the first reading of this plan at Thriving Family – made the palm leaves), then realized it just wasn’t going to work for us this week.  But then yesterday I remembered a time that as a junior high student my youth group did a foot washing ceremony and how it affected me.  I decided we would have our own.

And then it just took shape from there.  I grabbed the palm leaves we had made.  I had a large bowl and found a few wash cloths. We had bread, but only apple juice.  Good enough, it is the symbolism and not the legalism afterall, right?  I lit a candle, mostly at first to quiet everyone and emphasize that it was an important time, but then realized as I started reading John that Jesus talked of darkness and light.  It worked out nicely.  I also found 30 coins.  Regular old quarters and dimes and nickels, just pieces that looked “silver”.  My oldest found a plain red blanket (nice for the color symbolism, son!) We gathered it all in less than 10 minutes.

I sat everyone down and began reading at the triumphal entry.  Went to John for the foot washing.  I skipped over to the last supper in Luke.  And before Sunday is over I plan to read through the garden scene, the crucifixion, and the resurrection (with our traditional rolls hopefully).  I would also like to get a white flower before Sunday and use the red dye to illustrate Jesus taking on our sins, but that may have to happen another time.  I don’t know, we’ll see.

During the foot washing there were giggles and several “ew!”s.  I explained to the kids that Jesus had emphasized to “love one another”.  And loving isn’t just a word or a feeling.  It’s action.  It’s service.  And it ain’t always pretty.  MyMiddlest at one point said, “Love is gross!”  We all laughed and I said, “Yep, sometimes it is!  I’ve been changing poopy diapers for nearly 10 years now!  Tell me about gross love!!”

Then we sat down with the bread and the juice (not quite from the vine, but we talked about that).  We prayed – read: I prayed and the 2 oldest mostly listened while the 3 younger ones ranged from kinda fidgety listening to full out running around and Baby crying.  Whatcha gonna do?  :)  It wasn’t perfect.  There were quite a few “Please sit still and don’t spill the juice!”  But we continued on.  We talked about what it is to “break bread together”, how bread ties into important celebrations and teachings in the Bible, we remembered our recent readings of Passover Feasts, and then we squished our bread flat and talked about they used unleavened bread.  How it can be a symbol of humbled lives lived before God, not prideful puffed up ones.  Then we took Communion in our own living room.  Me and my rowdy real life children.

When Matt got home I asked the kiddos to tell him about what we had done.  There were lots of “I don’t knows”, a few “Ew! We washed feet!!”  Some “we ate bread and drank apple juice, Daddy!”  It was not quite the retelling and reverence I would hope for, but it’s a start.  It’s something.

And on this day that something was that I prayed for their greater understanding and their little souls.  We embraced traditions that were only mere shadows of grand celebrations that have been had for hundreds and hundreds of years.  We broke bread.  We read Scripture.  And we laughed.

Birthdays, Praise, and Forgotten Wonders

April 15th, 2011

MyMiddlest turned 8 the other day. As we planned our celebrations I was focused on the details. And though the details are not wrong, I was reminded out of the blue, that his Birthday is a celebration worthy of candles. And memories. And praise!

As I’m sure you know by now, I’ve been reading through the Bible with the kiddos. While we were reading through Joshua a few weeks ago I stopped mid verse. And started crying. I stopped reading and told the story of God’s wonders in our Middlest’s tiny life for the first time to my children. How had I not told them before? How have I not shouted it from the rooftops? I have now. I will now.

Photographer: A Noble Photo – the boys when they were 3 and nearly 2.

Let’s go back in time. Back nearly 9 years ago when I first found out I was pregnant with MyMiddlest. We had prayed for him. To be able to conceive him. Yes, we planned and desired for our first 2 children to be just over a year and a half apart. Also during that time we were really struggling financially. Add to that Matt was working nights. Plus, I was still in my refining period of staying home (read: selfish, frustrated, and clueless). We finally conceived and were ecstatic. We announced our blessing and started our routine doctor’s visits. At the time, our doctor was running blood tests routinely that screened for spina bifida. One morning (I still remember where I was standing in our house at the time) I got the call from the nurse that something was wrong. We needed to come back in for further tests. I phoned Matt, shaking, and scheduled the appointment right away. We prayed. When we had the second screened it confirmed the first. We were positive for spina bifida. We cried and prayed and scheduled an in depth ultrasound.

At the same time I was depending more heavily on the grace of God to transform me into something more decent than I ever had been before. When I was first made aware of His love and grace and believed in Him I had read the Bible cover to cover in a matter of months. It was all amazing and I couldn’t get enough of it. But as we’ve said before, we, like the grumbling Israelites, fell away from Him and the miracles He had done for us. But, again like those stubborn Israelites in the desert, I had reached my limit with a new baby, a new home, no friends, a husband working nights, no money, and much anger and called out to Him. And just like He loved those foolish Israelites, He loved and heard me. I began reading my Bible from Genesis again. And begging for Him to reveal His presence and love to me. I prayed that He would change me, because nothing I was doing was working.

Just the other day.  Not an unusual site for this child to climb anything and everything.

At the time of the early pregnancy of my second child and the testing that was going so wrong I had made it to Joshua. The Israelites had traveled through a desert for 40 years delivered from bondage, but still continually doubting God (even in the visible presence of Him) and calling out to Him. He had brought them to the edge of the Promised Land. They had gotten to the Jordan River and camped out for the night before crossing over. God had given directions as to who was to travel first and they were preparing for the big move the next day.

So, the doctor had told us with the ultrasound we should be able to have confirmation of the hole in our baby’s spine that was leaking the fluid that was showing up in the blood tests. That night I was having trouble sleeping and I went back to my Bible reading, hoping to find distraction in the desert with the Israelites for my only company.

Tiny little Middlest so very (but not very) long ago.

And then I read:

Then Joshua said to the people, “Consecrate yourselves, for tomorrow the LORD will do wonders among you.”
Joshua 3:5

And it jumped out at me. Even in my distracted half paying attention reading those words became alive in my heart. And I stopped. I dwelt there with Joshua for a while on the bank of the Jordan, praying and crying and hoping. Begging that God would reveal no problems with my baby. Praying that if there were really problems with him that He would give me the strength to go forward in faith and be the believing person I hoped I was. I called Matt at work and told him what I had read. I cried some more and told him I really thought God was giving us that verse. I asked him what consecrate meant, because by golly I wanted to be consecrated by morning!

The Middlest just after his baptism last year.  This one has the faith that puts mine to shame.  A heart for God like I’ve never seen in a little one so young.

Matt met me at the doctor’s office first thing in the morning right after he had gotten off from a long night of work. He had brought 2 candles with him. He wanted to pray with me before we went in and told me he had brought the candles to light in honor of God’s wonders. We lit one there in the car thanking God for whatever wonders he had for us and told me the second one was for lighting after this sweet baby was born. No matter what condition he was to born in, we would light it in thankfulness for God’s miracles in this child’s life. We got out of the car and walked quietly, shakily up to the ultrasound.

We sat breathlessly in the dark room praying silently continuously. In the first 5 minutes of the ultrasound we saw it. The hole. We knew immediately what we were looking at. The doctor confirmed our fears and pointed at the screen so matter of factly, “there it is, that’s what we’re looking at.” He continued to look, make measurements, moving the ultrasound all around. Our prayers (only in our heads, unspoken to anyone but the One who mattered) became urgent. We were praying together, silently, that God would close that hole. Right then and there in front of us. Just please close it. The doctor spent another 45 minutes looking for that hole. He never found it again. He was confused, embarrassed by what he saw as his inabilities. He told us at one point that he was going to schedule us a 3-D ultrasound with a specialist because he could “duplicate” his “initial findings.” He said he just couldn’t understand it. We did.

The Middlest cheesing on his birthday this year playing his new Wii game.

We went to that specialist who told us quickly and calmly through smiles, “I don’t know why they sent you over to us, you have a completely healthy baby and pregnancy.”  We were prepared to praise through a storm, but for whatever reason He chose to send the sun.  I wanted to shout of His goodness, His wonders, His mercy.

I worried and prayed off and on through the rest of that pregnancy, but praised.

The day he was born as he was being bathed I kept asking the nurse if he was okay.  How his back looked.  How is legs looked.  Was he okay.  She kept smiling and saying, “He’s just perfect, you have no worries.”

TheMiddlest playing soccer last year.

We brought him home and lit a candle.  And praised God again for His wonders.

As the months passed he turned into quite the crawler.  The super climber before he was ever to walk.  And at 1 he walked.  But years passed and though we were thankful for his soccer skills, climbing abilities, and constant fidgets, we didn’t quite forget what God had done in his little life, but we forgot to tell others.  Including the sweet child that God had healed in front of us.

TheMiddlest not quite 2 years old.

He grew.  And time passed and memories blurred.

The urgency to share his story became as fuzzy as those old tiny cameras we used to have.

And then the other day as I came to that same Jordan River, this time with my children with me I fell flat on my face at those old familiar Words.  I cried as I read it to them.  I cried as I recounted, finally, His wonders to my own babies.  And that very same Middlest said, “That was me?  But I run more than everyone else in this family now.”  Yes, sweet wonder, you do.

And I knew it was time to tell everyone.  To shout it from the rooftops.

²⁷“What I tell you in the darkness, speak in the light; and what you hear whispered in your ear, proclaim upon the housetops.

Matthew 10:27

⁴And in that day you will say,
“Give thanks to the LORD, call on His name
Make known His deeds among the peoples;
Make them remember that His name is exalted.”

Isaiah 12:4

This birthday as we lit yet more candles in honor of this sweet child’s birth, I now stop and honor yet again the One who worked wonders in his tiny life.

(This in no way says that we were somehow blessed and those with spina bifida are not, please read this post where I talk about my beliefs on this subject.)

Turning Their Hearts

April 7th, 2011

A couple of months ago we bought some extra coffee cups from a second hand store.  We go through coffee cups in an unbelievable way, like they’re disposable or something.  My Oldest picked this cup.  He liked the picture and the cool handle.  I was a tad distracted in the glass aisle, I didn’t pay much attention until we got home, got it washed and I was making our morning line up.  Then I noticed it had a part of a Bible verse on it.  It’s Malachi 4:6 ⁶“He will restore the hearts of the fathers to their children and the hearts of the children to their fathers.”

I paused in my coffee and cocoa making and thought about it.  Somehow it struck me.  That’s what I want.  For my children’s hearts to be restored to me.  Turned to me.  And to their father.  And through us as a living example, to their Heavenly Father.

So I prayed it over them.  Right then, as I measured out chocolate  milk mix and creamer.  I prayed that their hearts would be softened; turned to me and Matt.  I prayed that our hearts would be turned to them and not get so caught up in go, go, go, do, do, do, that I lose their hearts in the process.

This cut particularly close because my girl has been a daddy’s girl from the get-go.  Which I love.  But I’ve spent years hoping she would like me.  Because really, for most of the time she has just tolerated me.  I mean, I know she loves me, but she doesn’t cuddle me, she doesn’t run to me, she doesn’t like what I have to say.  When I read about other little girls wanting to be like their mommies, I mourn a little.  Because she doesn’t.

So I pray.

Also close because our oldest has some trust issues.  It keeps him at an arm’s length from us some of the time.  I know it’s trust issues now.  But when he was little I didn’t, I just thought it was disobedience/fit issues.  But I searched and cried and prayed for wisdom and cried some more.  And eventually I worked through it and boiled it down to – if he can’t trust my heart that what I’m doing is the best for him then he can’t obey freely what I’m asking him to do.  For instance, “Son, I need you to come to me as soon as I call you.”  Followed by disobedience, because he appears to know more than we do.  But then when we read in Little House on the Prairie about how Ma and Pa had emergencies and their girls listened and reacted instantly without question and how it saved lives, he seemed to have a breakthrough.  We stopped and talked about how we won’t always know why we’re supposed to do what Mama and Daddy are asking of us (and thereby eventually what and why God wants certain things for us) but that we must obey.  Trusting that Mom and Dad know more about the situation than the child.  And that in knowing more we also have his best interest, through love, in mind.  That what we are asking for through obedience is not to his harm and detriment but to his good.  I sometimes even sing “Trust and Obey” to him with a smile when I ask something of him.

To remind him.

To turn his heart to mine.

And I pray.

And then, just the other day while I was working on the computer my girl came and asked to sit in my lap.  And she whispered in my ear, “Mama, I want to do everything you do.”

I felt the chills.  I fought the tears.

I said, “Yes, ma’am, absolutely.”

And I prayed a prayer of thanksgiving.

For their hearts, I will pray.  I will fight.  And when my words fail me, I will pray His words back to Him.

Father, I pray that you would turn their hearts to me and Matt.  That Father,in turn, they would learn obedience and trust.  And that through us they would learn love, obedience, and trust in You.  And I thank you that while these prayers are still on my lips that you are already putting whispers in their mouths of desires to be like, and with, me and Matt.  Thank you, Father.

The Dailyness of Us

April 6th, 2011

Monday morning we woke up to reddish orange pouring in through the windows.  Matt grabbed the camera.  We knew storms were imminent 1. because it’s Arkansas in the spring, 2. because Red Sky in the Morning Sailors Take Warning.  Sure enough, most of the way through school work Matt called to remind me to get the loft ready to take cover in.  The 2 bigger boys share the loft and it took quite a bit of work to make it where 6 of us could fit in it with blankets, a laptop, and some bottled water.  You know, just in case the tornado did hit.

The weather passed us by eventually after very black skies and much fussing from kids.  Leaving us with no electricity.  I decided since I needed to go to town anyway and the electricity was out we would do our big shop.  Which all told with driving times means about a 4 hour trip.  Add to that 2 of the kids seemed to completely have forgotten how to obey.  And they weren’t the youngest ones.  Oh.my.  It was a day.

We began the next day normally.  Easily even.  No major to-dos.  I did tell the older 3 kids a couple of weeks ago that they could no longer play any electronics until all of their school work was done for the day (the Wii, PS2, and DS were consuming all our time, leaving us unfinished and cranky).  So with that gauntlet laid down they pulled a “get backatcha” on me.  They decided to start their work right off and get it done as quickly as possible.  Which is awesome except that requires me to teach and “do school” before Matt even leaves for work.  Somewhere between 7 and 7:30.  I drink my coffee while reading history and writing Astronomy on the board instead of at my computer in relative electronic babysitting quiet.  Ah, the sacrifices.  But this also means we’re through by noon.  So it’s actually leaving me more time for computer, playing outside, and cleaning.  Odd, this wise use of time.

School work now amazes me.  BigMan learned to write his letter “A” on his own yesterday and was so proud.

My girl, though only 5, really wanted to learn cursive like her older brothers.  So we went and bought another Handwriting Without Tears Cursive book and began.  She loves it, is doing better than I could’ve expected and begs to do it first each day.  Again, odd, but wonderful to me.

Baby got a splinter in his foot Sunday.  It was over an inch long and ironically he got it while going barefootin the house.  How does that even happen?  I pulled (dug) it out.  It was one of the hardest things I’ve done while having kids.  Poor, poor Baby.  But it’s healing nicely now.

Yesterday at naptime while I was reading Joshua 12 to the kids we heard explosions outside.  Massive gunshots maybe?  I wondered if it was maybe a 7 car pile up on our little country road.  It was enough to pull me from my planned naptime and get us dressed to go exploring.  I left my friends on Facebook with this message “Wish us luck, I’m getting in the van to go look.  I hope this isn’t one of those moments in those scary movies where the audience is yelling at the stupid woman victim” and my friends kept me rolling with their comments afterward.  We found nothing except some smoke off in the distance.  No news reports, no one acting like anything had even happened.  Strange.

After we explored we decided since we were out we’d make the most of it.  It was gorgeous so we went to feed the ducks.  I noticed how over the years of doing this same thing in the same place it has gotten easier with more kids and not more difficult.  The olders know how to act, stay close, and just enjoy feeding the ducks.  I watched BigMan near the water and taught Baby how to throw the bread.  It was peaceful and fun.  I noticed when I gave Baby a piece of bread in his left hand he would transfer it to the right before throwing it.  Another “righty”.  Then we went to the park where the kids played hide and seek.

And slide pile up.

And generally just ran around looking cute.  It was a much different day than the one before.

A couple online friends and I started a mom blogging triangle and we want you to be a part of it.  We’re just writing what we know and finding encouragement in a group of moms who share the dailyness of their lives as well.  I’m excited about this endeavor, I hope you are too!

I’m gathering photos and ideas for a blog redesign.  About twice a year I feel the urge to redesign; to change seasons here too.  It’s a lot of work, but worth it to me.

I still have several bigger posts here to do, big neat stories from our Bible reading, from God’s glory in my Middlest’s birth that I was reminded of in Joshua, and how God has used Scripture to shape my prayers for my kids (and ultimately how He’s already begun to answer those prayers) to share with you, but I have to get my thoughts wrapped around them first.

Here’s my girl in her self-designed “flying squirrel” costume.  Oh, it’s different alright.

It’s springtime in Arkansas finally and I love it.  As strange and wonderful as it is.  It fits us to a “T”.