weeklythoughtexchange

I know a little fellow who has the best belly chuckles and most subtle of grins. He adores long hugs and rushes into them head first when he is upset.

I know a little fellow who runs with shoulders back and tummy leading the way. He falls down but doesn’t stop. He calmly climbs 8-foot ladders as if they were merely the kitchen step stool (making Mama’s heart stop) and he whips the kitchen stool around the house as if it were his fifth limb.

I know a little fellow who can speak a paragraph of thoughts with just a handful of words. He seeks to make Mama proud by identifying a large object as “haavy” and then grunting and groaning as he carries it as far as he can. He adores Cookie Monster and enjoys making his family laugh by growling out “Cookie! Nom nom nom!” It’s even funnier when he has a cookie to eat!

I know a little fellow who adores being a big brother and will go to great lengths to entertain Baby Simeon. When he gets Simeon to laugh they share belly laughs together. He also doesn’t want Shaka to go hungry and consistently sneaks food to his golden retriever pal at every meal. Of all of our children he loves animals the most and scours every book we own for every horse picture, then promptly comes and shows it to me.

I know a little fellow who turns two today. His was my first home birth and I remember how anxious and excited I felt. I was 41 weeks and 5 days and was despairing that he would surely graduate high school in utero. Well, he was born before then but his IQ and growth rate seem to indicate that he might graduate college in high school instead.

Happiest of second birthdays to you, Shilo Boy! You are vital to making our family who it is and we praise Jesus for giving you to us. May you always choose meekness over force, joy over anger, and gratitude over selfishness.

This yoke of life is heavy,

The burden presses down.

In every step I’m weary,

Tears my only sound.

Marriages in crisis,

Babies ill too young.

Familiar disappearing,

Farewells remain too long.

The needs outweigh my energy,

Time slips through my hands.

I long to pour out joyfully,

But sorrow is in command.

Dear Jesus take this heavy yoke,

It weighs too much for me.

Please transform all that’s broke,

Into gentleness and humility.

Help me walk in step with you,

Not far ahead or way behind, only side-by-side.

Sustain me daily with all that’s true

And in your strength may I rely.

• Shame. I am a Christian! I love Jesus! I should know better than to believe the lies that bombard my mind and bring me down. I have good health, a loving husband, fantastic children, a beautiful home, friends in abundance. How ungrateful of me to be wallowing in this darkness and despair. There are people genuinely suffering all around me and I have the audacity to be depressed! Shame on me! What will people think of me if they knew? Now they’ll know that I really don’t have it all together all the time.
• Sorrow. Oh! All the missed opportunites for joy when I am stuck in the mire of despair. I am so alone in the cloud and it prevents me from truly absorbing the life that is mine. Depression isolates and it is gut-wrenching to feel so close yet so far away from the ones you adore.
• Weariness. Depression is exhausting. At times I can sense the cloud coming and I do all I can to resist it, but I’m not always successful and the effort to fight wears me down. Other times it consumes without warning and the blanket of despair is so heavy I don’t even want to attempt to push it off of me.  In these times, the last thing I want is an onslaught of “you should’s” or “you shouldn’t’s” or “if you only’s.” I hesitate to open up because I don’t want to sound rude or ungrateful or embittered by the lack of understanding. And so I withdraw and battle silently.

Everyone who knows this child agrees that she is not easily intimidated: by adults, peers, boundaries, rules, new flavors, new experiences or unlearned lessons. If there is any challenge to be had, she heads straight for it; given 2 options, she picks a third; expected to say yes, she will say no, but when you want her to say no, yes is the first word out of her mouth. She is probably the most challenging 2-year old we have parented so far.

When describing Arden, we say that she is very much like a cat: she manages to squeeze into the most obscure spot on the couch, pull her blankets and pillows all around her, pop her thumb in her mouth, twirl her hair with her free hand, and become completely relaxed. Usually she is the child wedged closest to us, but if we lather her with too much affection she leaves. She wants attention, but on her terms.  I often ponder how to best handle her obstinance and tantrums. Are they simply her will rising or are they indicators of unmet needs? Each day seems to be a new experiment as we try new ways to reach her little heart.

I absolutely adore this little girl. All of her put together is quite mesmerizing, from the way her mouth puckers when she talks, to her little voice and adorable pronunication of certain words, to her half-head nod when she affirms what she wants to her infamous hair twirl and thumbsuck, to her iconic mismatched outfits and flipflopped shoes to her surprise stashes of household goods in her bright orange backpack. It is not unusual for me to blink an extra time as I look at her and realize she is my little girl. I become all too consumed in the mothering of this child that I lose touch with getting to know her as an individual person. She was once my infant in arms; she was once learning to walk; she was once babbing her first words. In just three short years, she moved across the country, became a big sister TWICE, was potty-trained, learned the A-B-C song, and recognizes the letter, A, just to highlight a few of the important happenings in her young life. And it all happened in such a short time.

As Arden begins a brand new year, I want her to keep dancing when she hears music. I want her to keep hopping instead of walking from point A to point B. I want her to keep giving the tightest hugs. I want her to keep wanting to snuggle with me at nap time. I want her to keep sucking her thumb and twirling her hair and stuffing her bright orange backpack with unexpected items. I want her to have to her own style and to think her own thoughts. And somehow I want to show her heart that obedience is a good thing, that there is joy and freedom found in boundaries, and that there is a proper time to say no.  I think that this third child of ours has shown me more than anybody that there is no such thing as a parenting formula. Every day truly is a new parenting experience and the only way to parent well is to be in constant communication with Jesus and Jared. I rest in the knowledge that Jesus chose to gift us with the firecracker of a little girl and I KNOW He knows what He is doing.
The happiest of third birthdays to our one and only, Fervent Melody of Joy. May Jesus be the keeper of your heart and soul from today into eternity.

The day I dreaded since the day she arrived is today. After a rich, 6-week long visit with us that encompassed Quinley’s 4th birthday, a garage sale, Thanksgiving, Christmas decorating and the first day of Advent, my mom had to leave. My initial reaction was sorrow over all the things we still didn’t find time to do or all the moments when we weren’t chatting or at least in the same room together. I’m just wired to focus on what I haven’t accomplished or could have done better and that means regret is usually my first emotion felt after a positive experience.

But then I prompted myself to review my favorite memories through all of my senses. I realized that even if we weren’t always talking or spending time together, I was still absorbing the fact that she was in our home. I came up with quite a list in just a few short minutes:

I cherished seeing her all snuggly on my couch or tidying up the kitchen.

I liked seeing her special things spread throughout the guest room, proving she felt at home.

I feel comfort in wearing the clothes she folded.

I hugged her tightly, feeling how fragile and strong she is at the same time.

I savored feeling her hand touching my arm and watching her embrace the children.

I enjoyed hearing her singing or chatting with the children, her door opening and closing, the radio on in her room, and her visiting with the pets.

I savored the taste of her omelette and sandwiches and the tea she would brew for me.

And there is nothing like the sweet Mom smell- many comforting scents all mingled together.

I’m human and had my share of bad days while she here, but I did my best to not take the gift of her presence for granted. Gregory-Hans recently declared that God is bigger than everything, even bad guys. Sometimes those bad guys are feelings of fear, regret, anxiety or despair. It’s necessary to look for a reason to rejoice in all things because in doing so we remember how great and good our God is. I want to practice choosing to rejoice.

I’ve been itching to blog ever since I stepped into my blogging sabbatical so I decided to return for a moment. I’m sure I’ll have something to write for Christmas too.

Lately I’ve been thinking about specifics. I see how bland generalities really are and how humans are drawn to details. It’s the details of life that inspire and make a difference: the colors which make the rainbow; the varying shades of green and blue of the Pacific Ocean that cause it to dazzle; the subtle grin my husband has that makes my heart skip a little.

I know I am thankful for many things but instead of merely listing general categories I want to share specifically why I am thankful for these things:

~Salvation: it’s no small thing to know that my sins no longer stand between me and the Almighty God. When I die, I can stand spotless before His throne because Jesus took my place on the cross. Until then, I am growing in my relationship with Jesus through the gift of His Word, the Bible. For this I am thankful.

~Family: there is nothing quite like having my own people who I can dedicate my life to loving and serving. Each one of them is my dream come true. I yearned for a husband who would be my best friend and faithful listener and steady confidant. I ached for my very own babies to fill my arms. And now all of these people fill my home with their laughter, their tears, their silly antics, their warmth, their chaos, and their mutual love for me. These 6 people need me and for this I am thankful.

~Nature: the peace that only comes from being outside and absorbing the fragrance of fresh air, glimpsing the sunlight dancing off the varying shades of green, hearing the various birds chatting about their day. For this I am thankful.

~Friendship: I am blessed with friends from all walks of life and corners of the world. Each one helps me to see life with fresh perspective and my closest circle, my mom tribe, holds me accountable in my efforts to live intentionally. Life would have less dimension without friendship and for mine I am thankful.

~Books: my brain would shrivel up without the opportunity to step into fresh realms of thought. I never regret opening up any one of the books from the piles near my bed and reading a page or ten. For this I am thankful.

My list could go on and on ranging from tasty food to hobbies to employment to second chances and forgiveness to…you get the idea. This Thanksgiving let’s all immerse ourselves in the details of life and take time to mention specifics. For what are you thankful? Be specific.