Do not misunderstand me, I adore Christmas. The music, the lights, the meaning, the traditions, the smells...I love it. But I am increasingly annoyed at how people have allowed the decorating, song playing and celebrating of Christmas to skip right over Thanksgiving.
It is not just the stores, I have come to expect Christmas displays to immediately replace Halloween ones. It is marketing. I have noticed this year, more than ever that it is happening in homes. Last Saturday night I was driving through a nearby neighborhood and noticed quite a few decorated trees already up in living room windows. I found myself saying "Not yet!"
Little R has been begging me to put the Christmas music on my ipod and I have said the same thing to him, "Not yet."
P wanted to go to the mall last Friday to see Santa arrive, "Not yet."
K keeps asking when "Max," our elf, will reappear and her answer is the same, "Not yet."
Yes, there is a small part of me that feels mean. I know it would be much easier to give in and let them start enjoying the things that bring them happiness. But I believe part of the reason these traditions bring such joy is because of the anticipation that builds up in waiting.
To the teenagers so anxious to experience physical love outside the bounds of God's intent in marriage I can almost hear the Holy Spirit whisper "Not yet."
To the single woman who doesn't understand how many more times she will have to be a bridesmaid before she is the one dressed in white...Not yet.
To the couple waiting with open arms for their shot at parenthood...Not yet.
We are reminded countless times through Scripture that we serve an 'on time' God. There is purpose in everything He does, even (dare I say, especially) the waiting.
So this week I will continue to hold my children at bay with "Not yet" so we can enjoy THIS present season...of quietly, humbly reflecting on all we have to be thankful for TODAY.
Next Friday morning I will set my dining room table with my new Christmas china, load up the ipod with Christmas songs, drive to the mall in search of Santa and probably even have an appearance from the elf...but not yet.
"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven" Ecclesiastes 3:1 (NIV)
Thursday, November 19, 2009
Wednesday, November 18, 2009
A Different Kind of Milestone
I try hard not to share stories about the same child two days in a row, but this was simply too poignant not to record.
Both of my boys are emotional. P's reactions to upsetting situations involve anxiety and freak outs. R, on the other hand, reacts with anger. His teacher, Ms. Wanda, and I have been working on using 'peaceful hands.'
A couple of weeks ago I made deals with all three children. If K could stop biting her nails "until the white part showed" I would let her get them painted. She decided she would rather have a Beanie Baby. R & P asked what they could do to earn a Beanie Baby too. Because P frequently has school work sent home that he did not finish in class, we agreed he could get one if he did not have work sent home for a week. R's deal was to use peaceful hands at school for one week straight.
I confess that I thought it would be a long time before any of my children would receive their promised prize...but never underestimate the power of a motivated 5 year old. This morning K flashed her hands at me...and for the first time in 2 years I noticed her nails needed trimming.
I looked at the calendar and realized both boys had also met their goal, so this afternoon we purchased Skunkers the skunk, Slithery the snake and Ming the panda. It was a short-lived victory for R.
Tonight when I picked the children up from choir, their teacher informed me that R had thrown a bean bag with quite a bit of force that hit his friend, Jack, in the face.
"Was it on accident?"
"No, ma'amb," he muttered with his head hanging low.
"Were you angry?"
He nodded his head up and down.
"Is that using peaceful hands?"
"No, ma'amb," he pouted.
"Well, it looks like Slithery needs to spend some time with me until you can find your peaceful hands again."
"But I wanted to sweep wiff himb!!" He began to cry.
We live only about a mile from our church, so the discussion was still fresh as we came in the backdoor.
"Can I at least take Slithery upstairs and put him in my woom?"
My husband and I agreed that was not a good idea.
He dropped his head and walked into the dining room and crumpled into a pile in the corner, facing the wall.
"Let's go upstairs for bed, buddy. It's late."
He didn't respond, so my husband walked over and picked him up to point him towards the stairs.
"Stop!" he cried. " I was twying to do what Ms. Wanda taught me. She says when I am angwy I need to go find a quiet corner to count in until I don't feel so angwy anymow-a. I need to stay here and count," he said as he fought back tears.
Seriously, it may well be the proudest I have ever been of that sweet boy. I got tears in my eyes and a tight knot in my heart as I watched him battle the strong pull of his emotions and choose something better. And while there are a lot of things you can try to teach your children, something like self control just seems to come with maturity.
In retrospect, I am even thankful that the way he chose to deal with it is not something I taught him. I know that sounds crazy, but I might be tempted to take a little credit if it were so. (Just keeping in real.) Instead, I got to marvel at how God is working in my son's life. My hot-headed boy is growing up to be a young man I am proud of.
It was as precious of a moment as watching K ride her bike down the driveway independently...and this milestone will take him much farther in life.
Both of my boys are emotional. P's reactions to upsetting situations involve anxiety and freak outs. R, on the other hand, reacts with anger. His teacher, Ms. Wanda, and I have been working on using 'peaceful hands.'
A couple of weeks ago I made deals with all three children. If K could stop biting her nails "until the white part showed" I would let her get them painted. She decided she would rather have a Beanie Baby. R & P asked what they could do to earn a Beanie Baby too. Because P frequently has school work sent home that he did not finish in class, we agreed he could get one if he did not have work sent home for a week. R's deal was to use peaceful hands at school for one week straight.
I confess that I thought it would be a long time before any of my children would receive their promised prize...but never underestimate the power of a motivated 5 year old. This morning K flashed her hands at me...and for the first time in 2 years I noticed her nails needed trimming.
I looked at the calendar and realized both boys had also met their goal, so this afternoon we purchased Skunkers the skunk, Slithery the snake and Ming the panda. It was a short-lived victory for R.
Tonight when I picked the children up from choir, their teacher informed me that R had thrown a bean bag with quite a bit of force that hit his friend, Jack, in the face.
"Was it on accident?"
"No, ma'amb," he muttered with his head hanging low.
"Were you angry?"
He nodded his head up and down.
"Is that using peaceful hands?"
"No, ma'amb," he pouted.
"Well, it looks like Slithery needs to spend some time with me until you can find your peaceful hands again."
"But I wanted to sweep wiff himb!!" He began to cry.
We live only about a mile from our church, so the discussion was still fresh as we came in the backdoor.
"Can I at least take Slithery upstairs and put him in my woom?"
My husband and I agreed that was not a good idea.
He dropped his head and walked into the dining room and crumpled into a pile in the corner, facing the wall.
"Let's go upstairs for bed, buddy. It's late."
He didn't respond, so my husband walked over and picked him up to point him towards the stairs.
"Stop!" he cried. " I was twying to do what Ms. Wanda taught me. She says when I am angwy I need to go find a quiet corner to count in until I don't feel so angwy anymow-a. I need to stay here and count," he said as he fought back tears.
Seriously, it may well be the proudest I have ever been of that sweet boy. I got tears in my eyes and a tight knot in my heart as I watched him battle the strong pull of his emotions and choose something better. And while there are a lot of things you can try to teach your children, something like self control just seems to come with maturity.
In retrospect, I am even thankful that the way he chose to deal with it is not something I taught him. I know that sounds crazy, but I might be tempted to take a little credit if it were so. (Just keeping in real.) Instead, I got to marvel at how God is working in my son's life. My hot-headed boy is growing up to be a young man I am proud of.
It was as precious of a moment as watching K ride her bike down the driveway independently...and this milestone will take him much farther in life.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
R's bedtime prayer
De-ya God,
Pwease, pwease, pweease help make Sweeney get bedder. And I pwray for all of da football playas ev-we-whey-ya 'cuz I think maybe some of dem have a game tonight. Help keep dose football playas safe and God pwease let dem win, but only if dey are a rwed team or a bwue team and not, not, NOT if dey are an or-wange team. Oh! Or dey can win if deir shiwts are bwack.
In Jee-sus name, Amen.
Blame on being a boy in the South. SEC rivalries are in his blood.
Pwease, pwease, pweease help make Sweeney get bedder. And I pwray for all of da football playas ev-we-whey-ya 'cuz I think maybe some of dem have a game tonight. Help keep dose football playas safe and God pwease let dem win, but only if dey are a rwed team or a bwue team and not, not, NOT if dey are an or-wange team. Oh! Or dey can win if deir shiwts are bwack.
In Jee-sus name, Amen.
Blame on being a boy in the South. SEC rivalries are in his blood.
Monday, November 16, 2009
Gifts
There are many things I did not understand (but judged anyway) before I became a parent.
Why do people bring messy faced children to the grocery store? How hard is it to wipe their face?
And how about that unbrushed hair and mismatched clothes?
Why do people with kids stop going out to dinner and other social functions?
Why couldn't mothers control their children's public outbursts?
That brief list just scratches the surface. One by one, I have humbly had to deal with 'eating some crow.'
Sunday morning, I confronted another one...arriving at Toys R Us 45 minutes before their posted opening so I could attempt to get one of these 'hot toys.' I couldn't believe myself, getting sucked into the commercialism before Thanksgiving has even come...and yet, I did it, joyfully and with a gleam in my eye even. (I had already spent almost 2 hours visiting other stores and scouring the Internet.)
I know it is crazy...especially because my children do not even know this particular toy exists. But I know them and I know that they will love it. I can already hear their squeals and giggles. So, I swallow my pride and work behind the scenes to make that gift happen.
I cannot help but think it is a small glimpse of how God goes about giving good gifts to us. Like my children, who will soon be making their list for Santa, we pray for specific things. The problem is, there are some things that we don't even know to ask for. We may unwrap our 'gift' with some measure of confusion and disappointment. I didn't ask for that...
And it often ends up being our very favorite gift, because it was given to us from Someone who knows us intimately.
Why do people bring messy faced children to the grocery store? How hard is it to wipe their face?
And how about that unbrushed hair and mismatched clothes?
Why do people with kids stop going out to dinner and other social functions?
Why couldn't mothers control their children's public outbursts?
That brief list just scratches the surface. One by one, I have humbly had to deal with 'eating some crow.'
Sunday morning, I confronted another one...arriving at Toys R Us 45 minutes before their posted opening so I could attempt to get one of these 'hot toys.' I couldn't believe myself, getting sucked into the commercialism before Thanksgiving has even come...and yet, I did it, joyfully and with a gleam in my eye even. (I had already spent almost 2 hours visiting other stores and scouring the Internet.)
I know it is crazy...especially because my children do not even know this particular toy exists. But I know them and I know that they will love it. I can already hear their squeals and giggles. So, I swallow my pride and work behind the scenes to make that gift happen.
I cannot help but think it is a small glimpse of how God goes about giving good gifts to us. Like my children, who will soon be making their list for Santa, we pray for specific things. The problem is, there are some things that we don't even know to ask for. We may unwrap our 'gift' with some measure of confusion and disappointment. I didn't ask for that...
And it often ends up being our very favorite gift, because it was given to us from Someone who knows us intimately.
Sunday, November 15, 2009
Big Girl
This weekend my girl joined the ranks of the "Big Girls." She mastered her bicycle without training wheels.
She is immensely proud of her accomplishment--and I am too. She has been self-motivated to practice daily for the last week. Saturday her Daddy put her pedals back on and gave her a good push. It was the final step. The lights all clicked and she was on her way!
I have had a hard time keeping her off of the driveway since. She has spent the weekend going round and round. Each lap increased her confidence. They also seemed to age her. I feel like she turned 8 this weekend.
Her accomplishment also seemed to really motivate R. Tonight, in the dark, before dinner he was still working on catching up. All he lacks is learning how to get going. I think it is safe to assume he will be independently biking in a day or so.
There are so many other milestones that I think of as being "the big ones." This one snuck up on me.
How can it be? The next thing we know they will be losing teeth!
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Extravagant Love
Yesterday morning our precious friends, the Sweeneys, left their cozy home in the darkness of 5am for a journey back to Houston's famed MD Anderson. Monday Sweeney will begin a grueling cancer treatment regimen that involves tearing down his immune system in order to rebuild it with turbo-charged versions of his own cancer fighting cells. He will be isolated to protect him from the slightest germs which could be devastating. This process will be followed by high dose IL2 (which, for the record, is much more grueling in real life than on Grey's Anatomy) and chemotherapy.
My amazing friend, Cabell, will sit by his bedside watching and praying and loving him through his illness.
This treatment, although more effective than chemo and recommended by all the national experts who were consulted, was not covered by insurance. Our friend, a Young Life missionary, had to have $200,000 in cash ($120,000 up front) in order to begin the treatment. Because we serve an incredible God, $230,000 was raised online through word of mouth in only 3 weeks time. Read that again...$230 THOUSAND in 21 days...that's over $10,000 per day.
Truly, extravagant love.
Sweeney was quarantined the last week, so we couldn't really 'see' them before they left. Cabell made arrangements for a little surprise for a few of her friends in her absence. We had special instructions to go TOGETHER to her back porch. Because the five of us have 15 children between us, it was decided Saturday morning at 7am would be the easiest time for us to pull off.
Armed with coffee, baseball caps and make-up free faces we met this foggy morning with the bittersweet realization that we were going to our friend's home and she wouldn't be there. While we were enjoying being together, she was several states away gearing up for a life or death fight with her husband against stage IV metastatic melanoma.
We were greeted by a brightly colored note of sweet thanks for our support stuck to her back door. (And yes, we were already teary at this point.) There were instructions to get a cleverly hidden key and go into her dining room. There she had prepared a glorious, festive Christmas table.
Each place setting was hand-painted by Cabell, personalized with patterns, designs, initials and names unique to each of us. And there was another note...telling us where each of our 9 other place settings were boxed up.
My first thought was: "Seriously? This is too much!" I thought of the countless hours it must have taken her to prepare this. The hours she spent painting, firing, packing, preparing. How many weeks must she have been secretly conspiring to blow us away with this gift?
And then I thought of what I know to be true of my friend. She LOVES creating, giving, surprising. No one forced her to do this. Her extravagant surprise was because she loves us and WANTED to do it.
It is a trait she got from her Father. He, too, longs to give good gifts to His children. I love that from the moment sin entered our world way back in Genesis, He was at work with His Plan to restore us through the gift of His Son.What joy He must have had as He thought through the logistics...a young, unknown girl...a simple carpenter...a stable...a star. They'll never expect this.I am about to blow them away.
Extravagant love. Undeserved, unexpected, lavishness from a heart full of love.
I tend to be much more practical. Just the word 'extravagant' makes my chest tighten a little. Then I think about the way Jesus reacted to the extravagance of Mary of Bethany. I think of the extravagance of His Grace.
I am still trying to understand what this looks like in 'real life.' But walking through this difficult season with close friends has taught me a lot. The one thing that seems most needed in this situation is absolutely out of my hands. I cannot cure my friend's illness. All I can do is love them with the love of God through the process. I am helpless. God is not.
After we squealed and oohed and ahhed we talked about all the ideas we had for loving them back. Then we started with the best one we could think of--sitting crossed legged in their living room floor begging the Spirit to intercede. We prayed the lavish love of our Father would continue to be poured out on them as they were in Houston and thanked God, in advance, for the way they would impact the doctors, nurses and patients they would encounter.
Lord, may it not take such difficult, heart-wrenching circumstances for me to be one who loves others extravagantly!
"Let me give you a new command: Love one another. In the same way I loved you, you love one another. This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples—when they see the love you have for each other." John 13:34-35(MSG)
My amazing friend, Cabell, will sit by his bedside watching and praying and loving him through his illness.
This treatment, although more effective than chemo and recommended by all the national experts who were consulted, was not covered by insurance. Our friend, a Young Life missionary, had to have $200,000 in cash ($120,000 up front) in order to begin the treatment. Because we serve an incredible God, $230,000 was raised online through word of mouth in only 3 weeks time. Read that again...$230 THOUSAND in 21 days...that's over $10,000 per day.
Truly, extravagant love.
Sweeney was quarantined the last week, so we couldn't really 'see' them before they left. Cabell made arrangements for a little surprise for a few of her friends in her absence. We had special instructions to go TOGETHER to her back porch. Because the five of us have 15 children between us, it was decided Saturday morning at 7am would be the easiest time for us to pull off.
Armed with coffee, baseball caps and make-up free faces we met this foggy morning with the bittersweet realization that we were going to our friend's home and she wouldn't be there. While we were enjoying being together, she was several states away gearing up for a life or death fight with her husband against stage IV metastatic melanoma.
We were greeted by a brightly colored note of sweet thanks for our support stuck to her back door. (And yes, we were already teary at this point.) There were instructions to get a cleverly hidden key and go into her dining room. There she had prepared a glorious, festive Christmas table.
Each place setting was hand-painted by Cabell, personalized with patterns, designs, initials and names unique to each of us. And there was another note...telling us where each of our 9 other place settings were boxed up.
My first thought was: "Seriously? This is too much!" I thought of the countless hours it must have taken her to prepare this. The hours she spent painting, firing, packing, preparing. How many weeks must she have been secretly conspiring to blow us away with this gift?
And then I thought of what I know to be true of my friend. She LOVES creating, giving, surprising. No one forced her to do this. Her extravagant surprise was because she loves us and WANTED to do it.
It is a trait she got from her Father. He, too, longs to give good gifts to His children. I love that from the moment sin entered our world way back in Genesis, He was at work with His Plan to restore us through the gift of His Son.What joy He must have had as He thought through the logistics...a young, unknown girl...a simple carpenter...a stable...a star. They'll never expect this.I am about to blow them away.
Extravagant love. Undeserved, unexpected, lavishness from a heart full of love.
I tend to be much more practical. Just the word 'extravagant' makes my chest tighten a little. Then I think about the way Jesus reacted to the extravagance of Mary of Bethany. I think of the extravagance of His Grace.
I am still trying to understand what this looks like in 'real life.' But walking through this difficult season with close friends has taught me a lot. The one thing that seems most needed in this situation is absolutely out of my hands. I cannot cure my friend's illness. All I can do is love them with the love of God through the process. I am helpless. God is not.
After we squealed and oohed and ahhed we talked about all the ideas we had for loving them back. Then we started with the best one we could think of--sitting crossed legged in their living room floor begging the Spirit to intercede. We prayed the lavish love of our Father would continue to be poured out on them as they were in Houston and thanked God, in advance, for the way they would impact the doctors, nurses and patients they would encounter.
Lord, may it not take such difficult, heart-wrenching circumstances for me to be one who loves others extravagantly!
"Let me give you a new command: Love one another. In the same way I loved you, you love one another. This is how everyone will recognize that you are my disciples—when they see the love you have for each other." John 13:34-35(MSG)
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Sinners and Saints
This afternoon, K, asked if she could send "all her paper money" in the Operation Christmas Child shoe boxes. She said, "I just thought of it in my heart because they do not have any money and I do."
This is the same child that was reprimanded yesterday for repeatedly interrupting and upstaging her classroom's birthday girl during her celebration.
Part saint, part sinner.
R's story is similar. The same dimpled little guy that pledges his undying devotion and love to his Mommy, showering me with affection when in the mood, ignores me, growls at me and stomps his feet with defiance and disrespect when things aren't going his way.
And P? He prays for the people inside every ambulance that drives by, for "families and even people who don't have families" yet he is also frequently sneaky, destructive and emotionally manipulative.
It is the inconsistency that befuddles me. These little bodies that live under my roof are walking mixtures of sinner and saint. And the two big bodies that live under my roof? We are too. There is no good in us apart from God. Left unto ourselves we will always choose the path that ultimately serves ourselves. Only through the work of God in our hearts and lives are we able to show grace, love, compassion, forgiveness, selflessness.
Yesterday's post was all about the stuff that I felt I needed to 'fix' in my children. Tonight my perspective is different. Tonight I marvel at the work God is already doing in their young hearts. They haven't yet accepted Him for themselves, but I get glimpses of how they are being brought nearer to Him.
A beautiful unfolding indeed.
This is the same child that was reprimanded yesterday for repeatedly interrupting and upstaging her classroom's birthday girl during her celebration.
Part saint, part sinner.
R's story is similar. The same dimpled little guy that pledges his undying devotion and love to his Mommy, showering me with affection when in the mood, ignores me, growls at me and stomps his feet with defiance and disrespect when things aren't going his way.
And P? He prays for the people inside every ambulance that drives by, for "families and even people who don't have families" yet he is also frequently sneaky, destructive and emotionally manipulative.
It is the inconsistency that befuddles me. These little bodies that live under my roof are walking mixtures of sinner and saint. And the two big bodies that live under my roof? We are too. There is no good in us apart from God. Left unto ourselves we will always choose the path that ultimately serves ourselves. Only through the work of God in our hearts and lives are we able to show grace, love, compassion, forgiveness, selflessness.
Yesterday's post was all about the stuff that I felt I needed to 'fix' in my children. Tonight my perspective is different. Tonight I marvel at the work God is already doing in their young hearts. They haven't yet accepted Him for themselves, but I get glimpses of how they are being brought nearer to Him.
It is my responsibility to train them up--to guide, direct and impart the Truth of God-- but the 'fixing' is not my job. Hearts, afterall, cannot get piecemeal bandaids. Hearts need radical change and renewal. Mommies are in the bandaid business, but God...He has much grander abilities than that.
A beautiful unfolding indeed.
Balance?
"When we are referring to God, balance is a huge mistake. God is not just one thing we add to the mix called life. He wants an invitation from us to permeate everything and every part of us."
Francis Chan, Forgotten God
Francis Chan, Forgotten God
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