Pain and our precious ones

"I do not know how I am to pray for this child.  

As a mother, I don't want my baby denied.

but in the waiting, in the waiting, I've learned.

Every impulse in me wants to shield them from pain

take the arrows of misery, heartache, and blame

but in the sorrows, in the sorrows, I've learned

I only have two eyes - be all seeing

I only have two hands -be everything

I do not know enough -be all knowing

I give this baby up to your care

I do not know how to pray for this child

I want to guard her from everything wicked and wild

but in the trial, in the trial I've learned to hold on to the heart of God"

Sara Groves - Prayer for this Child

My mother's heart so echos with this.  When Levi got sunburnt little blisters on his cheeks, I cried.  The poor boy was only 5 weeks old.  Can't I shield him a little bit longer?  How did this happen?  I thought I did everything in my power to protect him?  And it was a perfectly timed gift from God to remind me that Levi is first and foremost God's child, entrusted to me for a time, and while it's my job to be their mother, I'm prone to weaknesses and mistakes.  And while I'm called to do my best, I'm not called to be their Savior.  They have one already!  And I'm not called to be their God, only the pointer to their God.  

   I'm listening to Joni Eareckson Tada speak at the True Women 2012 - livestreaming conference while I'm folding laundry and I just heard her say, "A broken neck was God's greatest mercy in my life - a harsh, bruising mercy, but God's greatest mercy to me."  Another quote is,  "Heartache forces us to embrace God out of desperate, urgent need.  God is never closer than when your heart is aching." And in light of that, my prayers have shifted.  I pray that God helps me point Emma to Him when she is disappointed with friends and gets hurt.  I ask that God gives me words of grace and encouragement when Samantha struggles to learn a new concept, or is broken hearted over sin.  I pray that Jessie might learn to be soft hearted even as she takes on the world, and that her courage might lead her straight to where God would have her, whatever that road may look like.

Oh these precious gifts!!

Levi - 2 months

The little man went to see the Dr this morning with his sisters in tow.  They were distressed to see him cry, but Jessie promptly shouted... "more milk!" She knows how to fix his problems.

Levi's stats:
Height: 22 1/2 inches - 25th percentile
Head: 39 1/2  -25th percentile
Weight: 10 lbs, 12 oz - 25th percentile.

At the Dr. office this little girl was balancing on a ledge that was about a foot off the ground.  I said, "Oh, kiddo, you've got trouble written all over your face!"  She promptly licks her lips, rubs her cheeks and replies, "Oh no, I washed it all off!"

(Not) Ashamed and sewing fig leaves

So, we decided to get out and play on Friday.  A friend was participating in a historic reenactment for the 150th anniversary of the battle at Antietam.  Saturday Francis was gone to presbytery all day and I knew we were having a house full on Sunday, so I washed, cleaned, scrubbed and cooked for a few hours, and then I decided to leave the upstairs in shambles in lieu of playing in the sandbox with this little girl.

And then I decided to help these little girls ride their new bikes.

And I left some of the housework until after they were in bed.  Francis got home late, but I got done getting ready for sunday around 10 pm, but was thankful for how I had prioritized the day.
You see, I've been practicing a few refrains in my head.

People are always the priority.

and

my children don't need a housekeeper.  they don't need a cook.  they need their mom.

And then Sunday came.  We got home from church around 1pm, and Levi was starving.  Because the big belly needs to be fed, and it had been 3 whole hours since he had eaten.  Yes I was appropriately sympathetic to his red, tear stained face even though I may have told him he was being a little over-dramatic.  "I'll just run upstairs to feed him while Francis got the chicken on the grill." I said.  Everything else was ready - just needed to be transferred to the table.  As I lay on our bed feeding, I heard, "Can I just use your pack 'n play to but Lizzie down?"

And suddenly my play from yesterday seemed foolish.  My goals of people faded with the knowledge that someone would see.  My terrible upstairs.  The clothes and books on the floor.  The laundry basket waiting for clothes to be put away.  I was exposed.  Enter sinking feeling.

Francis has been reading a book, and while he's only ready the first chapter, he introduced this as our dinner discussion.  He said, "The author says that shame is all around us, pervasive in our culture."  

Shame.  Really?  Shame is defined as, "A painful feeling of humiliation or distress caused by the consciousness of a wrong or foolish behavior."  A friend commented that we often feel ashamed because of a perception that everyone else is enough, and we're the only ones who are measuring short.      And this isolates us.  Satan uses it to cause us to maintain these illusions for people.  And "Illusions are dangerous things for they have no flaws."  We will share up to a point, but please don't dig too deep or you will see what a guilty mess I am.  I realized that I am good about showing people my main floor, but don't come upstairs :)  And the facebook pictures I see may not reveal that behind the happy picture, there is a mom that is struggling.  

And then I thought of Eve.  And how after the fall their nakedness was exposed, and they were ashamed and they hid.  Enter sin.  Enter shame.  This feeling is centuries old.  We know our guilt.  We try to sew fig leaves to cover up.  We hide from God and from each other.

And then God sought Adam and Eve out.  And the Lord God made for Adam and for his wife garments of skin and clothed them.

And he clothes me.  The first God-given coverings required a sacrifice, pointing to the ultimate sacrifice.  Pointing to a merciful God who makes provision for his sinful, inadequate, naked people.

Praise God!  I will never be enough, but I can't be.  May I not pretend to be enough for the little one who is currently brushing my hair, but help me to point her straight to her Savior!  Help me to show people the upstairs of my life, in order to quickly show them where our sufficiency comes from. To remind each other that God's power is made perfect in weakness.

We are never enough, but God will always be.

Here's a great read about God regularly giving us more than we can handle
this

Happy boy

Camping

Last week we went camping with the Vandelden clan at Rockwood Conservation Area.  While Francis and I brought lots of books (like we do every year :), we didn't get much opportunity to read (like every year).  It's kind of become an annual tradition of sorts - a reminder of how vacation used to be, and how it is very different now with kids.

 Different, but good.  Less restful vacation, more discovery through the eyes of the kids.  There are adventures to be had, like eating pizza in old ruins, and imagining stories about the people who lived there.

Singing songs in the ruins to hear the sound echo around the walls.

 Walking and rocking a little boy who got sunburnt or wind-burnt and/or overstimulated.  He enjoyed camping for the first 3 days, and then something snapped :)  It was probably a combination of a million things - feeling crummy from the burn, very cold nights, poor sleeping conditions, low milk supply, too much hot chocolate in my milk supply...let's just say we are enjoying being home and having the smiles return, and all the extra hands at camping who would rock and hold and cuddle and comfort (both him and me :)

 A little girl covering her eyes so easter eggs could be hidden, then found. (who also believes she can paddle a canoe single handedly).

 I am so thankful for a wonderful husband who took on the role of cook so I could have some down time, and focus on feeding the little man.  There were talks to be had, fires to be stoked and lots of dirt, fresh air and discoveries along walks.

Now to tackle Mt. Wash-more!