In "Other" Words: Giddy

"I long to worship Jesus with the heart of a child, in a state of pure and true adoration. Yet so many things of the world cloud my thoughts and pull on my heart until it's no longer just a girl in the arms of the Father."
~Darlene Schact~
"The Mom Complex"

Just the other day, I watched my friend's daughter for her so that she could make one final visit to her obstetrician before the arrival of her new baby boy. I have to confess that I absolutely adore my friend's daughter, whom I'll call RR, and love it when my friend calls me to watch her. This particular visit, RR arrived during the middle of my son's nap so the first 30 minutes she and I played quietly in the opposite end of the house. As I heard my son start to stir, RR and I tiptoed quietly down the hall to his room where I barely cracked open the door and let RR peak her head in. The groggy little boy looked up sleepily from his crib and when he saw the sweet face of his precious friend, a grin the size of Texas immediately spread across his face. As she walked closer to his crib, his smile grew so big that he looked positively giddy. RR started giggling and clapping and my little guy just sat there staring at her, starry-eyed with unashamed joy ( I later told my mom he looked high). He stood up, glanced quickly at me and then pointed at her as if to say, "I want to see her!!!". I picked him up and placed him on the floor next to her and they both began giggling, then she gave him a big hug and they both fell over giggling. I stood there, drinking in the moment, knowing that moments like those were rare and that very soon there would come a day when both would be ashamed to so publicly enjoy each other's company.

Every time I think back to that moment, my eyes tear up because I've felt that adoration in my heart towards my heavenly Father many, many times in my life but I don't know that I've ever let my joy creep to the surface like my son. What holds me back? Oh, so many things: insecurity, fear, judgment, laziness, doubt, you name it. How different my life would be if my Father had allowed such petty things to stifle the expression of his love for me!

Traditions and Legacies

"God has delivered us, He has parted waters for us, He has made water gush forth from rocks and sent us our own manna from heaven. He has brought us into our own Promised Land. Will I miss the opportunity to tell the story to our children?"
~ Ann Voskamp, Holy Experience ~

As the holidays approach, I’ve found myself thinking a lot about legacies and traditions. My husband and I are at a really fun stage of holiday planning because our son is young enough that he doesn’t have any expectations and because we haven’t been married long enough or lived in one place long enough to have established a holiday routine. I see nothing but opportunity before me; the opportunity to create what will become our beloved family traditions, the opportunity to intentionally shape the experiences that will ultimately shape my son, and the opportunity to infuse God in every part of our plans. While I know that my son’s spiritual development will most likely not be shaped by the one or two religious holidays in a year, I love the chance to be proactive in my planning instead of reactive and am grateful for the chance to intentionally plan these important landmarks. What holiday traditions most influenced who you are today and how did your family infuse God into your traditions?

These commandments that I give you today are to be upon your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads.
Deuteronomy 6:6-8

Your thoughts?

In "Other" Words

"Friendship is born at that moment when one person says to another, "What! You too? I thought I was the only one!"
~ C.S. Lewis ~

I am a scaredy-cat. No, really, I am. I’ve been an avid-watcher of various crime dramas and law enforcement shows for most of my life and worked as a 911 dispatcher for nearly two years so let’s just say that I have plenty of ammunition to fuel my fears. Now that I am a mommy my fears revolve less around being overpowered by a “bad guy” and more around not being able to protect my baby from a “bad guy”. I know what you are thinking because my dad asks me the same question all the time, “Just what are all these bad guys doing around my house and what do they want?” Don’t get me started. I know all the recommended deterrents; I keep all kinds of lights on outside my house, I have deadbolts, a dog, an alarm, a hard-wired phone and a back up cell phone but I am still too scared to sleep at home by myself on the nights when my husband is at the fire department so I take my scaredy-cat behind and my baby boy and we spend the night with my parents EVERY THIRD NIGHT. We have been in this three day pattern since the day my husband began working at the fire station and for the most part it works very well. This weekend was a little different though because my parents left town to go visit my sister and weren’t going to be home until late Sunday night. I debated whether or not to go to their house (since they would be getting in later that night) or just stay home because an empty house is an empty house and finally decided to stay at home so I could get some housework done. Everything went perfectly until it was time to go to bed and I realized that I would have to check all of the doors on my own (as if I hadn’t already done that 20 times). By the time I made it back to the bedroom I was so freaked out that I grabbed my sleeping son out of his crib, put him in my bed and then locked the bedroom door and moved the dresser in front of it. Whew. I got ready for bed and snuggled down in the covers next to my sweet baby boy when I realized the air conditioner was still running and the thermostat was on the other side of my “security door”. Annoyed, I moved the dresser and turned the lock but nothing happened. I tried again and again and then realized that the lock on the door knob was not working and I was unable to open the door. I became frantic and began twisting and turning and hitting the door, frantic to get out. What if there is a fire? What if I we can’t get out the window? What am I going to do? I became more and more frantic before I realized just how ridiculous I was being, took a deep breath, and turned the lock and the lock disengaged.

Most people don’t have any clue that I am this way because I keep my paranoia to myself knowing that my fears are both unfounded and a little bit ridiculous. Last year, shortly after my husband and I joined a brand new small group at church, the group was spending an evening talking and getting to know each other when one of the women in the groups shared a story that caught my attention because it was filled with the same unfounded paranoia and imaginative fears that I deal with on a regular basis. I couldn’t believe it…there was someone else who was as nutty and paranoid as me. We began talking and sharing so many “scary” stories and the next thing we knew we had scheduled time to hang out together later on that week.

It is always so much fun to meet new people that share things in common with you, especially when the similarities are obscure but people and life situations change and relationships come and go. How much more wonderful to discover friendships that are based on something more permanent than hobbies or interests. One of the greatest blessings of being part of a church family is the Christian relationships that are born from common faith and beliefs. God really knew what he was doing when he formed the body of the church.

For where two or three come together in my name, there am I with them.
Matthew 18:20

Your thoughts?

I Wanna Be Just Like You

"I thought about the whole notion of "reproduction," and what it really means to replicate yourself. Is it merely about the passing on of eyes and chins and hair color? Or is it, rather, the replication of the heart? Do we leave a bigger mark by passing on our genes, or our thoughts?"
~ Shannon Woodward, author of
Inconceivable: Finding Peace
in the Midst of Infertility ~

When I first found out I was pregnant I wasn't really sure how I felt. On the one hand, I was really excited that the love between my husband and me could produce something tangible and I was really excited about the prospect of being a mom. On the other hand, I was really scared about being held accountable for the life of a tiny little person.

The first few weeks after the birth of my son were spent in the hospital. I was rarely allowed to "be mom" because the nurses were charged with his full-time care. As a result I began to feel under-qualified and wondered if I could cut it as a mom. As most mothers can tell you, it only took about a week of caring for my son on my own before I became the resident expert on all things "Little Man". As we watched him grow and began to discover the tiny facets of his personality we noticed the intricate way with which our genes had combined to form this unique individual. Aside from the obvious inheritances he received from each of us: face shape, eye color, nose, hair color, etc. there are less obvious things like the way he sticks out his bottom lip when he is unhappy, or arches his eyebrow when he is confused, or the difficulty he has getting a full night's sleep or the blank stare he gets just minutes after waking up. But even though there are things we naturally pass on to him that can't be helped, I've recently become more aware of the things that he inherits from us that can be helped and should be shaped: personality traits, spirituality, beliefs, political views, education, language, etc. I've given lots of thought about the way in which I am raising him and the charge of raising a man of God. I've thought about the kind of people I want in his life as examples and the kinds of experiences I want him to have. I've thought out life scenarios and the subsequent conversations I would have with him. I've thought about the language with which I speak, not referring to whether or not I use vulgar language but the way in which my language is peppered with the love of Christ or words about my loving God.

I am suddenly aware that the legacy of being a parent is less about genes and reproduction and more about heart and the replication of Christ. May I be the kind of parent who lives Christ in her every day life so that my son will inherit more from me than my nose and my curly hair.

Lord, I want to be just like You
'Cause he wants to be just like me
I want to be a holy example
For his innocent eyes to see
Help me be a living Bible, Lord
That my little boy can read
I want to be just like You
'Cause he wants to be like me

by Phillips, Craig and Dean

Fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds; tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates, so that your days and the days of your children may be many in the land that the LORD swore to give your forefathers, as many as the days that the heavens are above the earth.
Deuteronomy 11:18-21

Your thoughts?

Bumpy Road

"In the middle of difficulty lies opportunity."
~ Albert Einstein ~

My junior year in college I began the semester in the same way I began my initial college career: alone and a complete stranger. Because I had chosen to spend my sophomore year overseas, I returned to a campus only knowing a small handful of people amidst new classes of freshmen and sophomores. About a month after school began, my roommate convinced me to join her in attending a mission conference in Oklahoma. The day we were to leave for the conference, my roommate had a family emergency and bowed out of the trip. Because I didn't have a family emergency and had already turned in all of my money for the trip, I was locked in to the commitment and would have to attend alone with a group of students from our school. To say that I was uncomfortable would be an understatement. Since the trip had been planned for months, all of the sleeping arrangements and accommodations were already set in stone and I would have to go pot-luck with strangers at the conference. On the bus ride to the airport it was pretty clear that I was the odd man out as people divided into groups and began exclusive conversations with each other. The plane ride was even worse as I sat by myself with the empty seat my friend was supposed to occupy. We landed and I felt desperate. I frantically called my parents and begged them to drive up to Oklahoma (from Texas) and they agreed but wouldn't be able to make the trip for two more days.

By the time my parents arrived two days later, many life changing things had happened. First, I met the man that would one day become my husband. Second, I met the man who is now my boss. Third, I met the girl that would become one of my closest friends, a ministry partner, and a bridesmaid in my wedding. Finally, I met a woman who would have more impact on my spiritual life than any other non-family person would ever have. I look back at the weekend and am keenly aware of the stretching and growing opportunities I would have missed had I been "comfortable" and in control of the circumstances. Like a grain of sand in the soft smooth bed of an oyster, my difficult and uncomfortable situation had become the catalyst for me to step out and meet some of the most influential people in my life.

Surely it was for my benefit that I suffered such anguish.
Isaiah 37:18

Your thoughts?

Sharpened

"Remember, we all stumble, every one of us.
That's why it's a comfort to go hand in hand."
~ Emily Kimbrough ~

Years ago, while working in campus ministry, I was a part of a women's accountability group that met once a week. Participating in a group of that type was really difficult for me; up until that point, I had never been called to the kind of transparency that accountability required. I shared some pretty heavy stuff about my spiritual life early on in the group and was met with a lot of encouragement and prayers, but little else. The weeks went on and while our group discussed a lot of "little" struggles, no one else broached struggles anywhere near the same caliber of what I had shared at the beginning of the group. I began to feel frustrated, vulnerable, and even foolish until a girl in the group approached me privately one evening and confessed that she had experienced some of the same struggles I had. I thanked her profusely for having the courage to share something so personal with me and encouraged her to share with the group so that they could help her in the journey as well, but she made it clear that she didn't feel comfortable with that level of transparency. I was disappointed but understood the hesitation and respected her privacy. A few weeks later another girl in the group came to me privately and shared some of her struggles but also resisted sharing with the group. By the end of the first semester, 5 of the 7 girls had shared something personal with me but none of the girls had ventured to share with the group.

As we began the second semester, I felt very frustrated by the lack of sharing and transparency in a group of women called together to be accountable. Despite every effort I made to encourage sharing in the group, there was no change. I felt stuck between a rock and a hard place because I knew that I was the one person with the knowledge to understand how much the group could benefit by sharing like experiences, but I also knew that sharing that knowledge would betray the trust that had been bestowed upon me and would end up doing more damage than good.

I know this isn't news to anyone, but we all stumble, we all struggle, and we all sin and fall short of the glory of God. The really sad part is that we live in a culture so caught up in image and status that we are afraid to be vulnerable regardless of how much we can learn and grow from a moment of weakness. There is so much blessing to be gained from sharing struggles, the greatest of which is accountability, so let's walk hand in hand in this journey so that we might help each other grow stronger.

As iron sharpens iron, so one man sharpens another.
Proverbs 27:17

Your thoughts?