We sing the songs every year. We know them all by heart. But do we ever really think about the words anymore?
God and sinners reconciled.
The glories of His righteousness and wonders of his love.
The thrill of hope, the weary world rejoices.
Let every heart prepare him room.
I add to that words I discovered today:
…he came from heaven to earth that he might send us from earth to heaven. –W. Dyer, from a selection in The 25 Days of Christmas
May these words be real to you today!
It is Christmas. We have an almost-eight-month-old. It’s a bad combination.
As we started decorating for Christmas this year, I forced myself to scale back. Partly because of the knowledge that the baby could start crawling at any moment, and how much time do I really want to spend chasing a baby?
Also, though, because of the hassle.
Isn’t that awful? To look at these things as a hassle? But when I pulled out the lights we usually hang with our garland on our porch, and half were burned out, I didn’t even bother. I just piled everything back in the box and thought maybe next year.
The tree is up. The Nativity scene is up. The Advent calendar is up. The wreath on the door is up. I checked in with my oldest as I was reigning it in, and asked if there was anything else he Really Wanted to put up; if there was anything he would Truly Miss if it wasn’t out. Verdict: the light-up houses. So we set up our seven little Dickens’ Village houses on top of the piano and I put them on a timer so I didn’t even have to turn them on in the morning. Then I put my red glass hurricane candleholder on the kitchen island and called it good.
That doesn’t really sound all that simple, I know. It’s scaled down for us. I’m looking at this year as a test: will I miss it? If I don’t get it out, if I don’t put it up, will I even care that it’s gone? If I don’t miss it, am I prepared to send it out the door before next Christmas rolls around? Will I really miss all the “stuff?”
Well…yes.
I made it a full week before I decided I really wanted the garland hanging on our stair banister. Maybe it’s just that I’ve gotten used to it; it’s been with us through the last two houses. That’s almost ten years worth of greenery hung with red tartan plaid ribbons.
Now we’re driving through neighborhoods looking at Christmas lights, and I’m feeling like a Scrooge. We usually have candles in all our front windows, and I hang a little greenery with white lights on our small front porch. The practical side of me is screaming, she’s going to start crawling! You don’t want to have to watch all those cords! You don’t want to have to deal with burnt out bulbs! But guess what? I really, really miss our lights. A wreath on the door just doesn’t cut it.
And honestly, if you’re going to have anything on display at Christmas, shouldn’t it be lights?
The people walking in darkness have seen a great light…–Isaiah 9:2
In him was life, and that life was the light of all mankind. The light shines in the darkness, and the darkness has not overcome it. –John 1:4-5
The true light that gives light to everyone was coming into the world…to all who did receive him, to those who believed in his name, he gave the right to become children of God… –John 1:9,12
When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, “I am the light of the world. Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life.–John 8:12
I have come into the world as a light so that no one who believes in me should stay in darkness –John 12:46
For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light… –Ephesians 5:8
But if we walk in the light, as he is in the light, we have fellowship with one another…–I John 1:7
The Lord is my light and salvation–whom shall I fear? –Psalm 27:1
Yes….even if you’re going to have a scaled-down Christmas, you should probably keep the lights.
Stupid time change….
I’m noticing more people have finally realized that even though “fall back” is supposed to mean an extra hour of sleep, it means just the opposite for those with small children. While everyone else is looking forward to the shift, those of us with little ones know it means absolutely nothing besides now the kids will be up at five instead of six.
What I failed to consider was how the evenings would look. We have a baby who goes to bed at six o’clock at night; on a really good night I might be able to keep her up until six-thirty. Now, with the end of daylight savings, I have a baby that really wants to go to bed at five.
I know it will only take a few days to get her back to where we were (or at least close to where we were), but today I thought we had hope because she’d taken a third nap and slept until four in the afternoon. Four!! Making it until six should be easy; it’s only two hours!
I should have known when she woke up screaming that it wasn’t going to work. We made it through a very high-maintenance evening (please know, she it not a high-maintenance baby!!) and finally, with dinner over, I was facing clean-up. She was done. DONE. Unfortunately, my husband was done, too, as he was working overtime and had to disappear into his “office” in the basement. I plopped the baby down in the living room with her bucket of toys, handed her a few of them, and kept talking to her as I ran back to the sink to at least get the leftovers put away. Dirty dishes could wait, but I wasn’t risking losing leftovers to a sneaky (and astoundingly agile) dog.
Ravioli dished out and put away: check.
Garlic bread stacked up and put away: check.
Every last pot, pan, and plate piled in the sink away from potential puppy disaster: check.
I raced back into the living room, where the baby had never really stopped crying. I took one look at her and every last ounce of irritation melted away from me as I realized she had managed to reach over and around every single toy I’d attempted to appease her with….and grab her blanket. There she sat, thumb in her mouth, blanket pulled to her cheek, tears still running down her face. My poor, exhausted baby!
As I rocked her and nursed her that night I thought about how even a six-month-old knew exactly what was most important to her. How even she, as an infant, was able to cut through all the “stuff” and reach for the one thing she knew would help. She didn’t want any of that other “stuff;” she wanted That One Thing that was her comfort; that would get her through until her struggle was over. She wanted her blanket.
What’s your One Thing?
There’s no thirsting for the things
Of the world—they’ve taken wings.
Long ago I gave them up, and instantly
All my night was turned to day,
All my burdens rolled away.
Now the Comforter abides with me.He abides, He abides.
Hallelujah, He abides with me!
I’m rejoicing night and day
As I walk the narrow way,
For the Comforter abides with me.–from He Abides, Herbert Buffum
Over the course of the last year I’ve had the opportunity to peek into at least three different nurseries of three different mothers, whether in real life or through photos on Facebook. It wasn’t until the third that I really noticed it: this vaguely familiar feeling; the I think I’ve been here before…but no… moment; the why does this ring a bell? thoughts. It all clicked when I complimented one of the moms on a wall hanging and she said, “Thanks! I found the idea on Pinterest!”
Aha! That’s it. Everyone had taken all the same ideas and made them their own: each room was different; and yet, each room was sort of the same.
Well, I’m not on Pinterest. I waste enough time online without needing to get sucked in to something that I fully recognize could take over my life. So the baby’s room fails to meet the “shared on Pinterest” criteria. But….the baby’s room is done. It’s actually completed (even though it didn’t get painted until she was three months old). Back in January I wouldn’t have guaranteed any of that. And last fall I was a basket case, because, as I kept having to tell people, we have nothing.
“Wow! Your other two are really old! Do you even have any baby stuff left?” That was pretty much the response of pretty much anyone who talked to me about our little surprise blessing. And my response, to each of them, was always the same:
No, we moved when my daughter was two and didn’t want to move all the baby stuff since were weren’t having any more…..all we have are two umbrella strollers. We don’t even have a crib–it broke in the move.
Then my response started to change.
It started with a sweet friend from church asking me if I had any maternity clothes. No, and I was loathe to buy them, knowing I’d never wear them again. So in came three bins of clothing for me to use, completely free; originally on loan but (after some thoughtful consideration 😉 ) simply given. My entire maternity purchases were a few pairs of jeans from Goodwill. (I hadn’t even known there was a maternity section at Goodwill.)
Next up: dinner with my college roommate and her husband. She asked about our adoption plans, and when we told her–as we’d told our caseworker–that we had a “situation,” she got it immediately.
“A growing situation?” she asked. Yep.
“Do you even have any baby stuff?” Nope.
She then offered us all of her baby stuff, left from her now-preschool son; after coming to the conclusion that they wouldn’t be having any more, she was trying to figure out how to get rid of it all. (I believe her actual words were, “Back up the truck, baby….it’s all yours!”)
So a few weeks later, when another friend asked “Do you even have any baby stuff?” I got to try out a new response: Funny story…. By the end, I said something like, …and all we need to buy is a crib! We have everything else we need!
To which she responded, “Do you want a crib?”
Are you kidding me?
We have acquired, to date, a crib, changing table, two changing pads (with covers), a bassinet, a car seat (plus two bases), a stroller (that works with the car seat), two baby bathtubs, one bouncy seat, one infant “seat,” one floor play mat, one swing, and numerous toys and blankets. This doesn’t take into account the amazing amount of clothes loaned to me by my sister; from my niece, who is just over a year older than our baby girl. And it turns out we didn’t actually have “nothing:” I had my older daughter’s crib bedding, which I’d listed on Craigslist twice and which–somehow–never sold. (Thank goodness it was a girl!)
I could spin this and talk about how budget-friendly our nursery is. Or how “green” I am, with all this used stuff. The reality, though, is that when we had a need, God provided. When I was completely overwhelmed with the thought of starting over, especially since we weren’t planning on doing the whole baby thing again, God took care of the “stuff” situation, and helped me realize how He was present in the entire “baby” situation.
I am so unbelievably thankful to all the people who made my little one’s room. Each and every day I see these things, and am reminded of God’s provision and friends’ willingness to help. I can’t imagine a better way to decorate a nursery.
On April 19th we were blessed with a 9-pound, 10.7-ounce bundle of little-girl joy. I’ve spent the past month primarily snuggling a baby, homeschooling a son, and just. barely. keeping up with the house. (I’m incredibly grateful for a Sunday School class–and a husband–that cook.) No blogging for me, thanks.
I had a friend post something on Facebook, though, that I wanted to share. It really hit home for me for two reasons: first, the incredibly obvious idea–how did I miss it?–that “gluttony” doesn’t just apply to food. (Duh.) Secondly, the incredibly convicting idea that it’s not just about getting rid of stuff. It’s about putting Him first, making sure He is our priority, finding out what He wants from us….letting Him fill us, so we don’t feel the need to be filled with all the other “stuff.”
I’m working on it….
Funny, isn’t it, that that’s what’s written on our money? It’s like someone knew we’d be needing the reminder.
“Whoever trusts in his riches will fall, but the righteous will thrive like a green leaf.” (Proverbs 11:28)
Let me vent for a moment and I promise I’ll circle back to the important point.
Months ago, I realized that in preparation for our Disney trip I should probably be ramping up our savings; I didn’t want to drain the entire account (admittedly unlikely, but there’s a lot of uncertainty in preparing for a trip that big). So I did my best to start funneling a little extra each paycheck into our savings account.
That’s when it started.
It began very slowly; so slowly I didn’t even notice for a bit. But the longer time went on, the more I began to see a pattern: things were going wrong. Often. At an increasing rate. The phrase “that’s what savings is for” was being thrown around more and more; so much so that I began to tack on an addendum: “that’s what savings is for….but what happens when it’s all gone?” The fact that we would be adding a baby into the mix in just a few months didn’t help my attitude one bit; nor did the timing of Christmas shopping.
Our list:
6/15 Husband’s pharmacy license renewed (thankfully, reimbursed)
7/11 Sprinkler repair
7/30 Tax oops (yeah….I don’t wanna talk about it)
9/9 Car battery (mine)
9/12 Bo…last vet visit
9/19 Brake work (mine)
10/4 Tire (mine…wow….it sounds like I drive a beater)
10/11 TRIP!! (at least this was planned for)
10/26 New dog: Kina!
11/1 Meds for Kina
11/12 Garage door repair
11/16 Kina disaster
11/20 Kina final lab work
12/4 Car repair (husband’s)
12/10 Furnace repair (to get us through the holidays)
1/3 New furnace install
1/18? Impending new tire (Mine. Wow….maybe I DO drive a beater!)
Some stuff on that list was known; the trip was a planned expense. The dog purchase….an arguable expense, but this family doesn’t stay dog-free for long. Everything else was a nasty surprise, and each time I’d find myself getting more and more worked up about it. And each time, I could sense God prodding me: Who are you trusting in?
It’s easy to sit back and blab about how much I trust in God when everything’s coming up roses. It’s truly hard for me to remember what it was like, sixteen years ago, when we were first married and flat broke and barely making it. There’s a lot of trust when you’re barely making it. Now “we’re doing fine”–that seems to be our phrase of choice; not rich, but far, far away from “scraping by.”
That list of problems has forced me back to trust; to evaluate who I’m truly trusting in and whether that trust holds even as bank accounts weaken.
“When I am afraid, I will trust in you. In God, whose word I praise, in God I trust; I will not be afraid. What can mortal man do to me?” (Psalm 56:3-4)
“Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding; in all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make your paths straight.” (Proberbs 3:5)
On the first of November I logged onto Facebook and, in the midst of everyone’s sweet posts beginning their “days of thankfulness,” I unloaded.
“I HATE THURSDAYS……sorry, needed to vent.”
I don’t actually hate Thursdays. Three-quarters of the day I love; that’s the day my mom comes over and we play. We get coffee and run errands if we need to; we have most of the day together to just enjoy each other’s company…..and then she goes home, and I have to face the fact that I played all day and that nothing got done. Any other day of the week, that would be an easy recovery, but Thursdays are my daughter’s gymnastics night; which means she and I eat dinner together early, and then head out the door for a good chunk of our evening.
This particular Thursday was especially bad. Mom and I had played that morning, but then spent the afternoon at home with the still-new-to-us dog, since I don’t yet know if I can trust her for much longer than three or four hours. Mom and I sat together in my living room; she worked on cross-stitched Christmas presents while I tried to coax a GoogleDoc to work for our Sunday School’s class Christmas party. I would like to say it was a cozy and comfortable afternoon at home; unfortunately I was stressed out from the uncooperative document and an even more uncooperative laptop.
After she left it was a collision of things: get the kids from school, drop them off at home, run the dog to her first vet appointment, run back home, scarf down dinner, throw my daughter in the car and run her to gymnastics, where I texted some more info about the Christmas party to others on the planning committee. While I sat with my phone in my lap, responding to texts, it suddenly began ringing, and I recognized the name at the top of the screen as another friend who, I knew, was calling about a meeting we had the following morning. And I admit it: I saw her name and I groaned. (Yeah, I’ve already ‘fessed up to her, so it’s okay to write about it.) I answered the phone with the statement, “That’s tomorrow, isn’t it?”
That night was so bad my daughter didn’t get bathed. That night was so bad I actually asked my husband for help. (He’s great to pitch in….you’d think I’d ask him more often.) That night it was all I could do to get the kids into bed without a meltdown (me, not them), and crash on the sofa, and unload my seven little words on Facebook.
As I thought about it that night and the following morning, some thoughts began to gel for me. As I watch people run from one thing to the next, as I see our lives crowded with “stuff” of the time-kind, not just the material-kind, I started to realize something. My mind went from rambling thoughts to more specific thoughts and finally, I realized, I could reduce these thoughts to two words:
Who says?
Some examples, from conversations I’ve had with people over the past few months:
Who says we have to sell popcorn to the school kids the first Friday of every month?
Who says the high schoolers need a coffee bar, staffed by parent volunteers?
Who says we should have gymnastics practice two nights a week, with competitive meets every weekend?
Who says our class party needs to be a catered affair at a venue instead of a potluck in someone’s home?
Who says we need our kids in every activity our church home offers? (If I had a dime for every time I’ve heard a chipper, “If the doors were unlocked, we were there!”)
Please understand….none of these things are bad. But every time someone has another “good idea,” that idea has to be carried out and run by other people. Which leads to well-meaning people being overwhelmed by the amount of stuff they’re doing.
It’s ironic that I’m even writing about this….I’m not a “joiner.” My kids are in the bare minimun on extra-curricular activities, because I think being home, as a family, together, is more important than most stuff they could sign up for. (My son is currently involved in–gasp!–nothing.) I’m not that bad at saying “no;” I had a great amount of practice last month when our trip was closing in and making me feel overwhelmed. It’s really struck me, though, how easy it is to get sucked in; especially when the ideas are so “good.” How quickly we become “the man who hears the word, but the worries of this life and the deceitfulness of wealth choke it, making it unfruitful.” (Matthew 13:22)
Or we turn into those invited to the banquet:
“At the time of the banquet he sent his servant to tell those who had been invited, ‘Come, for everything is now ready.’ But they all alike began to make excuses. The first said, ‘I have just bought a field, and I must go and see it. Please excuse me.’ Another said, ‘I have just bought five yoke of oxen, and I’m on my way to try them out. Please excuse me.’ Still another said, ‘I just got married, so I can’t come.’ ” (Luke 14: 17-20)
I can hear Jesus saying to us, ” ‘Martha, Martha….you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her.’ ” (Luke 10:41-42)
As I read through the Old Testament, I’m struck by the continued, repeated instruction given to the kings: Seek Him. Follow Him wholeheartedly. And listen:
“They sought God eagerly, and he was found by them. So the Lord gave them rest on every side.” (2 Chronicles 15:15)
I realize the verse refers to peace instead of war, but truly….doesn’t rest sound good?
A bit of a change from my usual topics….but needed to share.
After months (years?) of discussion, my husband and I began our foster parent training classes in January of 2011. It was the first step we had to take in adopting through the state of Kansas. The classes were completed without problems, but once we finished attending classes and the paperwork trail began, we started hitting speed bumps. Lots and lots of speed bumps.
First there was the delay of our final write-up, supposed to be done by a (surely overworked) social worker who helped lead our class. After months of nagging e-mails and texts, I was assured that she had sent it–but then the office it was supposed to arrive at hadn’t received it. Weeks later, it had finally appeared at the office; where it then had to be transferred yet again, to the actual agency we were working with. More waiting ensued, but fortunately no more flat-out missing paperwork. We finally (!!) had our homestudy done this January, a full year after we started our training. More hangups followed, this time with fingerprints (getting them clear enough to read; not getting away from any criminal history, haha); at this point we were starting to laugh because the whole thing was Just. So. Ridiculous.
Finally, finally, early this summer we started receiving child profiles to read and review, to see who might be a good fit in our family.
We had a few serious discussions about a few sibling sets that came through; discussions about how many kids we could realistically handle and where we would put more than one child. We actually pursued a sib set of three for awhile, but finally came to the decision that, depending on their needs, it would probably just be too much for us. Then one profile came through, for one little three-year-old, and my response was overwhelming: this is it.
This is why we’ve been stalled. This is why we’ve had to wait. This is what all the hold-ups have been for. It was suddenly all so clear.
We e-mailed our caseworker for more information; overwhelming information, to be sure, but only things that cemented my desire to continue to follow up on this little one. We told her we wanted to continue on and be considered as potential parents when they met about the child (many more steps still to take, but finally–there’s that word again–moving in the right direction, on the right child).
Which is why it was so heartbreaking to sit in my doctor’s office parking lot a few weeks ago and call our caseworker.
“We have……a situation,” I began.
“A situation?” she laughed. “What does that m–you’re PREGNANT!”
Yep. And apparently I’m not the only one on her case load to call her this month, with a “situation,” where she’ll “keep our file open” and we can “get back with her” when things calm down.
This is not a “we’ve tried for years, it’s a miracle!” kind of situation. This is a “we have a great family; we should share what we have” situation. Why on earth would God take a family that was ready to open its doors and welcome someone in need and, instead, throw another baby at them? Aren’t there already hundreds of kids waiting for a home? We were passing over sibling sets of five, six, sometimes seven….why on earth would He give us another when there are already so many kids hungry for loving parents; a family they can call their own?
I have absolutely no idea what happens from here. I told our caseworker that afternoon that we were going to have a nine-year-old, a seven-year-old, and a newborn; “as far as I’m concerned, there’s a hole to fill there!” There’s no assurance, though, that we’ll end up with a healthy baby; we might need to muster all our strength just to deal with whatever comes our way. I don’t understand why I’ve felt called to adopt for so long and have ended up with the rug getting pulled out from under me. While I don’t doubt God’s wisdom, I definitely don’t understand it. I stumbled across these words recently, though, (in I Kings, of all places), and they’ve given some comfort:
” ‘My father David had it in his heart to build a temple for the Name of the Lord, the God of Israel. But the Lord said to my father David, ‘Because it was in your heart to build a temple for my Name, you did well to have this in your heart. Nevertheless, you are not the one to build the temple….. ‘ ” (I Kings 8:17-19)
You did well to have this in your heart. I don’t know if we are the ones to adopt or not–maybe we are; maybe this is just another speed bump. But if not; you did well to have this in your heart.
This isn’t the end of the road. It’s just a fork in the road. I’m trusting in God’s wisdom for our family.
“And the people continued to bring freewill offerings morning after morning. So all the skilled craftsmen who were doing all the work on the sanctuary left their work and said to Moses, ‘The people are bringing more than enough for doing the work the Lord commanded to be done.’ Then Moses gave an order and they sent this word throughout the camp: ‘No man or woman is to make anything else as an offering for the sanctuary.’ And so the people were restrained from bringing more, because what they already had was more than enough to do all the work.” –Exodus 36:3-7
I was overwhelmed by these words in Exodus recently, as Moses led the building of the tabernacle. Can you imagine being a part of a group who just kept giving? Who had to be restrained from continuing to give? Who wanted so much to be a blessing to the Lord that they gave, morning after morning?
My Bible commentary reminded me: Exodus 35:5 states “From what you have, take an offering for the Lord” (emphasis mine). “We sometimes dream of what we would give to God if we were wealthy. Moses’ instructions to Israel are a healthy reminder. We can give only from what we have. When we give willingly, we please God and find joy in giving…Today too, if all would give of what they have, there would be more than enough to do all God commands” (The Bible Reader’s Companion, by Lawrence O. Richards).
More than enough, if we all would give of what we had.
So…that’s where I’ve been for the past week.
Doing the last bit of shopping for what the kiddos need, while trying to not duplicate what we already have.
Savoring the last two days of summer break.
Labeling school supplies and loading backpacks.
Squeezing in one last big trip to the library.
Meeting teachers, student teachers (for both kids!), and checking in with past teachers.
Consoling my tearful daughter, often, about going to “all-day” school, aka first grade. (“Why can’t we just go half-day? I liked half-day! I’ll miss you!”)
Settling the kids in their classrooms and then spending an entire day with my mom; coffee, lunch, shopping….
Doing my normal, day-to-day housekeeping things….with an added benefit of kid-free grocery shopping.
Praying for my little ones, as they start this new year.
Tucking notes in lunch boxes, hoping they give at least a bit of encouragement (especially for “all-day” daughter).
And fending off question after question after question, all phrased a bit differently, but all asking the same thing: “What are you going to do with all your time?”
Truth: I’m not 100% sure. Day Three of no-kids and I haven’t approached anything like a “normal” day yet; the year is still too new to have established any true routines. Even my normal morning routine has been upended this year; forced into something different and still not truly set. What will my days look like? What will I be doing with this time?
I’m fairly sure He will show me.
Pursuing "enough" 
