Mighty to Save

The folders come home from school with my girls every Monday. If I'm being real, I kinda dread them a little. I can expect to park myself in a chair for about 45 minutes every Monday and read, and read, and read; and then pray, and pray, and pray that I will not forget all the information I am supposed to know after all the reading. These folders always come bursting with artwork as well; and from time to time a masterpiece emerges from the monotony, and this overwhelmed heart of mine stops and smiles. It happened this week with Caroline's art...
Did you know your Daddy is mighty to save too? He is the author of your salvation, He wrote the story. He knows the beginning, the middle, and the end of our lives. He knows all the ways we mess up and fall short, and He knows how desperately we need a mighty savior. We tend to think we are only worth saving when we are like my Caroline, young and innocent and drawing pictures about how her daddy is her hero and saves her. And then we grow up and start thinking that God sees us differently. We start believing that He sees us like we see ourselves: shameful, guilty, less innocent adults that have wandered from our daddy's side. We start believing that He is mighty to save all the others more deserving of His strength. We forget what He has done for the prodigal son...or in my case, the prodigal daughter.

If a girl's life can have a theme song, then this song is mine. I need to know that I do not have the one mountain that my God cannot move. I need to be reminded that He rose and conquered the grave, not for a few elite, but for those like me, and for you. For "The LORD your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing" Zephaniah 3:17. Oh how He adores you sweet friends...

The sick and the injured

The little man had just fallen asleep. We were on day three of a fever, and he was taking an unusual morning nap. The phone rang at 11:00 am. It was Caroline's sweet teacher telling me that she had fallen off the monkey bars and landed flat on her back. The general consensus was that she was okay, the fall had likely just knocked the wind out of her and she was sore. So because she is five, and because she was very upset, we picked her up and brought her home.

Then the phone rang at 1:00 pm. Ella had fallen off the monkey bars and landed on her arm. I said "no, you mean Caroline, and I already picked her up". They said "no, we mean Ella". I said "seriously"? They said "yes". So I said "okay my little wounded battalion, back in car, another soldier is down". Later I called the doctor because Ella's arm did indeed seem legitimately hurt. I spoke with the nurse who asked me a series of 8 questions. The last question was "are any of her limbs severed?". As I answered "no", I wondered why that was question 8. Shouldn't that have been question 1? I really should have answered "yes" just for fun, but I wasn't presently in the mood for such games.

We spent the next day in the orthopedic office, only to find out her arm wasn't broke. For the most part I was relieved it wasn't broke; but I will not deny that there was a small part of me that was sort of hoping there was a legitimate reason for all the time, money, and arm strength I was exerting while wrestling Thomas in a doctor's office much of the day. The good news was that she would be fine to return to school tomorrow, and after a long week of sickness and injuries, the next day would calm down. I really should know by now that the next day never calms down...Ella woke in the night with a fever. And so the saga continues, and I am in the process of learning to be grateful. For each day is a day that the Lord has made, even the sick and injured ones.

The Smiles Box

My girls dug down deep into the collection of empty cigar boxes that belongs to their Big Pop, each searching for the perfect box for their project. Gran Jan and Big Pop are two of my children's most favorite people alive, and on this particular Saturday morning they were turning cigar boxes into "Smile Boxes" with these sweet Grandparents of theirs. We can always count on Gran Jan to come up with a great project for them, and this one might be one of our favorites. They were making boxes that would hold all their special memories...memories that would make them smile. The goal would be that whenever something sad would happen, they would open their smiles box and be reminded of all the happy, joyful memories that had made them smile in times past. They would be reminded of all their blessings, and all the love that had been shown, and then they would be happy again.

It wasn't long after this project was complete, that my Ella suggested they also make a "Sad Box" so that they could write down all the sad stuff too. In her 7 year old brain, it logistically made sense: if you have a "happy box", you also need a "sad box". And though we all laughed, I couldn't help but think that this is actually how so many of us live out our lives. We walk around holding our "sad boxes" and our piece of paper and pen in hand, just waiting for the chance to record something sad and file it away. We protect it's record like a mother protects her child, so that at the necessary and apropos time, we can pull it out as evidence of our unfair life inflictions. We take a "woe is me" approach to our days, and habitually record all the ways we have been wronged by those around us. And in a low moment of self pity, we pull out our "sad boxes" and go through the list of evidence. When we reach the end of our list, we sit and survey the wreckage. Clearly, we can rest our case...we have been wronged and our "sad box" runneth over.

Are you wondering how I have such ability to explain the process so clearly? For so many years, I had great practice at it. I did this daily, and I didn't even know that I was doing it. It was just the way I processed life. I am so grateful to be able to say that my "smiles box" is so much fuller these days than my "sad box". I wish I could say I didn't even own a "sad box"...but sometimes it will rear it's ugly head and beg me to pick up that pen and record a bad circumstance, or even worse, to recall one from the past. That box would love nothing more than to be full of life's wrongs, and for me to sit on the floor and wallow in self pity with all my little scraps of paper scattered around me on the floor. The "sad box" wants me to be a bottom dweller, feasting on nothing more than a plate full of lies.

I was reminded this week about two guys that had every reason in the world to carry around a "sad box". Unfortunately, even if they had wanted to, they would not have been able because their hands were in chains and they had been severely flogged and beaten. Paul and Silas innocently sat deep within the walls of a highly guarded prison cell, after having been publicly beaten without a trial. And though their theoretical "sad box" could have been full, they sat praying and singing hymns to God, and God loves to reward such faith. His ways are many and He rewards each of us differently, but for Paul and Silas, he shook things up by sending a violent earthquake breaking every one's chains. By their faith, they were free, and so are you. You are free to not carry around your "sad box". It is nothing but a heavy linked chain that you are dragging around with you, and friend...may I be so bold as to say that it doesn't look very pretty on you. And you should further be reminded that Jesus is walking right beside you saying "You know you don't have to carry that thing around with you, right? You know I have already broken that chain, right?". Won't you close up your "Sad Box" and start living in the truth that Jesus has already packed full a "Smiles Box" for you...and you don't even have to do anything to earn it. The box is a gift from your Father, that He has freely given His children.

Milestones and Moments to Remember

And just like that, both my girls are in grade school. They didn't ask my permission to grow up so fast, they both just came walking down the stairs yesterday morning for school as if it was nothing. Caroline had a smirk on her face that told me she was both proud and a tiny bit anxious, but mainly just ready. And despite the lump in my throat, I was indeed excited for her.

Experiencing milestone moments as a parent is an interesting thing. It stirs emotions deep in your soul that are difficult to put into words. It's a feeling of wanting to cry, laugh, scream, throw-up, and worship, all wrapped up into one big package of "what the heck is going on" kind of feeling. Something too difficult to verbalize, but something every parent understands. These parental milestones just seem different and more raw than other life milestones. The role of a parent is just naturally different from other roles, it's a privilege set apart from other hats that we wear in our lives. It's unique, and the moments we experience that stem from this role seem to stir deeper emotions...and this makes me think of our heavenly Father who is a parent too. I think about His perfect love for His children, and I think about how He must feel on a daily basis watching milestones of His children happen all over the world. And since my feelings and emotions and love are but a reflection of His, how much deeper must His feelings stir, and how much faster must His perfect heart flutter while watching His children grow.

Though these emotions run deep for us as parents, they are simpler for our children. They do not yet understand the gravity of things like starting Kindergarten. To us as parents, it is one huge leap in the direction of growing up, but to them it is just starting Kindergarten...as it should be of course. While getting ready to leave Caroline that first day of school, I spent one more moment double checking everything in her bag to ensure she had what she needed. I asked if she had her lunch, and she responded by saying "yes, and even though it looks disgusting, I promise I will eat it".

And so just like that my baby girl grew up, left home for her first day of school, and bravely walked into that lunch room with a disgusting sandwich for lunch. What a milestone, what a moment to remember.

The promise of forgiveness

My Caroline told a lie yesterday. I knew it was a lie as the words were stumbling from her lips. A combination of her mannerisms and instantly shameful demeanour was a dead giveaway to her mother that knows her well. Her father and I just stared at her silently, and with no real physical evidence to support what we both knew to be true, we decided to hold our tongues for the moment. We kissed her and sent her back to bed, as we had already put her to bed for the night once that evening. She carried herself upstairs and I could hear her feet were moving slow, dragging a bit from the burden that she was surely carrying with her to bed. I had a hard time sleeping last night because of it. I knew she was feeling guilty and I know my Caroline well enough to know the lie was weighing on her.

The next afternoon while we were sitting on the sofa together, I felt prompted to ask her if there was anything bothering her. Within a matter of seconds, tears pooled in her eyes and her voice was quivering. She confessed that she had lied to us last night because she was afraid she would be in trouble if she had told the truth. Had I been able to see the face of God at that very moment, I do not doubt that He would have winked at me. I smiled at the opportunity and was quick to flood that sweet girl of mine with grace and forgiveness. What a perfect chance to reflect a glimmer of the character of our Father.

God tells us in Isaiah 43:25 that He is the one that blots out our transgressions and remembers our sins no more. And just in case we missed it the first time, He repeats himself again in Jeremiah 31:34, "For I will forgive their wickedness and remember their sins no more". Not only does He forgive our sins, an act that is undeserved from a righteous God, but He promises to remember them no more. God doesn't waste words and I think He knew that we would need to know that He would remember them no more. I think He knew that we would try and pick up our cloak of shame and hide our faces underneath it's hood. I think He knew that we would always wonder "well what if 'it' gets brought up again, or what if He is up there keeping score". I think He knew that Fear would creep back in and try to rob us of God's gift by whispering "He knows what you have done". I think He knew that Caroline was going to come back into my room and say "but Mommy, I can't get it out of my brain". I think He knows us well, and He knew that we (like Caroline) would need to hear our Father say "I will remember their sins no more".

Have you let this Truth settle into the weary, shame filled parts of your soul? Did you know that it is a choice to do so? Did you know that whether or not you feel forgiven and restored, if you have asked for it, then you have received it. It is your choice to believe or not believe the promise, but rest assured that God delivers on what He promises. Before Jesus could finish his words on the cross "Father, forgive them", I believe that God had granted it. After all, He seemed to like granting the requests of His son in whom He was well pleased. And likewise, Caroline had my forgiveness before her first tear fell from her eyes...whether she believes it or not.

He is growing on us

I am so pleased with our choice of a new pet. Ty matches my home perfectly, off-white with black accents. Of course I'm kidding...we didn't plan that, but I do find it amusing and it will eventually work to my advantage when his fur begins shedding and is all over my furniture. Ty is making a place for himself nicely in our family. He is proving to be a smart dog and responds very well to training, another thing that will work to my advantage when he grows into those paws and weighs 80 lbs.

Caroline is still praying during her nightly prayers for Matty to get better, we just let it go because it seems to comfort her. She prays the request with such a tone of confidence and belief that I am convinced God will somehow, in His own amazing "God-like" way, someday answer her prayer. But last night for the first time, she added Ty to her prayer list. I smiled while she said it, he is wiggling his way into her heart too...even if she was just praying that he would stop chewing up all her stuffed animals.

A servant's heart

I sat their eggs in front of them and then ran to the bathroom to brush my teeth, and attempt to wipe away the mascara from the day before that was smeared under my eyes making me resemble a raccoon. If I can attempt to accomplish nothing else in the morning, masking the dark circles under my eyes is essential to pretending I am not as disorganized as I actually am. While staring in the mirror I heard Caroline in the other room say "I will help you". I stopped what I was doing and walked back to the kitchen. I watched for several minutes taking the moment in. She had pulled her chair over to her brother's high chair and was feeding him his breakfast. Such a simple thing, it didn't require much. It didn't require money or planning. It didn't require a shower or make up. It just required a kind heart; a quiet, simple moment of service, of kindness, of love...a moment that only a servant's heart can produce.


My presence was unnoticed for about 2 minutes, but then Thomas spotted me and started laughing. He was laughing because he could tell something fun was happening. He was excited to be being fed and he was joyfully accepting the moment. Caroline turned to me and said "He was shoving it in his mouth so I told him I would help him". I smiled and sat down next to them and took a few more pictures. She was proud.

I am always surprised that in moments like these God reveals himself so strongly. We look for it in the big moments, we expect it there. And certainly he is present for those big, culminating times in life like when you have a baby or when you get married. But the older I get and the calmer I give my heart permission to be, I see Him more and more in the simpler moments. It speaks much of His character, does it not? I remember watching my grandfather feed my grandmother before she died. She couldn't do it anymore and he sat so content across from her wheel chair feeding her. What a moment, what a gift, what a privilege it is that God allows us to care for his children.

I tend to wake up each morning with my lists and my busy work and then wonder why at the end of the day I am so tired. I think my heart would do well to accept the small gifts that have been handed to me for today, and to live them with a still and less anxious heart. For today is the day that the Lord has made, the time is now to receive His gifts, the time is now to give him thanks, the day is today to be still and know that He is God.

I am linking up with Emily today over at Chatting at the Sky to unwrap the simple gifts.

I blame the closets

Do your closets scare you? Mine do, especially my girls' closets. The lack of organization is extremely frustrating. Especially on Sunday morning when for once in my life I want to not be the last couple in a 2000 person congregation to walk through the sanctuary doors. It doesn't matter what piece of clothing that I am looking for in these two closets of theirs, it will be the one and only thing that I cannot find. And then the tears start.

Child: "these shoes feel funny"

Me: "I am sorry, I can't find the other ones, you'll be fine"

Child: "but they bother my toes and I can feel the line"

Me: "I don't care, stop whining"

Child: "but why does Ella get to wear a dress and the other shoes"

Me: "because she found her dress, and we cannot find yours"

Child: "but it's not fair"

Me: "life isn't fair, get used to it, stop talking and brush your teeth so we can go to church"

Child: "but I want the twirly skirt"

Me: "you are talking again, and I said no talking, in fact, no one is allowed to talk to me for the rest of the day"

Do you think these are the joyful hearts that God intended to walk into his house every Sunday to worship? I think not, and I am blaming the closets. So, though I told you in the beginning of this house tour that we were done remodeling, I am temporarily lifting that sanction and claiming this week as "let your husband break out the power tools one more time and build an efficient closet system for your kids before someone looses their mind" week. Say tuned...

Becoming Barbie...well, kind of

Have you entered the world of Barbie? I don't mean the dolls themselves but rather the movies. Barbie and the Island Princess, or Barbie in Fairytopia, or Barbie as The Princess and the Pauper. Some are better than others, and we have experienced more than one road trip where my husband has threatened to throw the portable DVD player out the window if the girls did not turn the volume down. But I must say, Barbie is starting to grow on me, especially with her latest production of Barbie and the Three Musketeers. Part of the reason I am becoming fond of her is only by default...she is better than other teeny bopper stars out there that are weaving their ways through our little girl's lives. But honestly, I have kind of been enjoying Barbies' movies lately.

I spent yesterday afternoon sewing capes and skirts for the girl's three musketeer costumes. They have become obsessed and both are now in "training", karate chopping everything they walk in front of, they have stolen all of Thomas' weapons, and have been telling all of their imaginary opponents "Don't mess with the dress". You have to love a heroine whose moto involves the word "dress", someone who is all about fighting evil but is gonna look good while doing it, someone whose cape has "bling on it" as my sweet Caroline says. I mean seriously, I can totally get behind this.

This world is full of garbage for our girls to wade through. There are plenty of lies lurking for them to believe, lies about who they are and what they are capable of accomplishing. So I am okay with their current play that involves being strong, determined, heroic, cute girls. God did not create us to be passive. We have been created different than man, and I am certainly not implying that I am encouraging my girls to try and become someone that they were not created to be, but we as women do indeed have a place. We have been created to be part of an adventurous story of good and evil. There are lives at stake, causes worth fighting for, and a God that is watching and cheering us on. There is a purpose for the lives of my girls. Though I know it is not to protect the life of the king of France, there is another King that I know they are here to serve. A King that has called them to a great cause and a great adventure. A King that is enjoying their present day childish play, because He also happens to know the future, and He knows that this play is preparing them for what He has called them to do on this earth...fight mightily for His eternal Kingdom. I am just glad that as women we get to wear a pretty dress while we are at battle.

"I have fought the good fight, I have finished the race, and I have kept the faith" 2 Timothy 4:7

It's right around the corner

It's getting close. The days of no more shoes are right around the corner. Today was just a tease, just enough to get you excited about the months ahead. It took my girls about 5 minutes of playing outside to have their bare toes in the dirt. We are pushing the envelope a little I know, maybe even getting a little greedy, but it is too exciting to resist the urge of pulling out the spring clothes. Here's to enjoying the warmer temperatures while they are present, even if it is just for the weekend. What a gift.

Oh what a week!

Oh what a week. Here's a picture recap:

The annual Father-Daughter Sweetheart Dance, the Cute Carpenter and his ladies...
Despite the pleas of her mother, my four year old turned five this week. We asked her what she wanted to do for her birthday party and she quickly replied "I think I would like to sit by a pool with a magazine and a drink and sunglasses and just relax"...seriously? My husband glared at me with disapproving eyes as if I was the one to have modeled this "bad" behavior. Certainly since the birth of my first child 7 years ago, I have not partaken in such activities. We are still confused as to where she has seen such things. Regardless, we did the best we could considering it was 20 degrees outside...

Lastly, the dude finally got his first haircut. We were long overdue, and everyone thought I had three little girls. It was time, it was painful, but it was time....

And since all I seem to have time for is posting tease pictures from my master bath remodel...here is one more. That's a TV over the tub. "Oh no he didn't" you say? Oh yes he did! See you Monday.

Loosing my grip, that I never really had

I interrupt this house tour to bring you a more important memory worth recording...

I told you she was scrumptious. l also told you here that I was hanging onto four for dear life, and that her first loose tooth was doing the same thing. She is the last four year old little girl that will grow up in my house, and oh how I wish she would stay right at the exact age she is right now. Big girl ways seem to suit Ella more, but four fits Caroline perfectly...not five, or six, but four.

Well five is right around the corner and her tooth will not be here to celebrate with us. My husband likes to follow the tradition of his father and allow the girls to leave the tooth fairy notes under their pillow to accompany the tooth. The girls must use tiny hand writing because the fairies are so small, and then the fairies of course always write back in really tiny handwriting due to the size of their hands. Caroline left the tooth fairy a note asking her what her name was and then also requesting $5. Due to the cuteness level of the whole thing, and the fact that it came from an innocent heart, the tooth fairy reluctantly complied only because it was her first tooth...and promised her next visit would not be as lucrative for Caroline.

So the perfect little girl smile is gone and the slow and steady march to braces is upon us. It is not the crooked smile that bothers me, but the era that it represents. Actually, it is not even what lies ahead, but rather what we are leaving that I know I can never get back.

PS- Will you allow me to make a random statement to someone in blogger world? If you are "Jemsmom" please know that I have loved hearing from you but I have seen no way to get back in touch with you. I have wanted to reply to you lots of times, but I don't know how! I just wanted you to know that.

Love,

Amy

Holding on to four

Do you have a four year old daughter? Or maybe you have had one so you know what I mean. They are scrumptious. They are not too big and also not too small, the perfect age. My four year old is starting to outgrow four...and it hurts. She has her first loose tooth and I am considering taping it inside her mouth. A mature look comes with loosing teeth and I am not quite ready for it. She is about a month away from five and I really wish she wasn't. Assuming we will not be witnesses to God miraculously intervening into our circumstance, there will be no more babies in our household, which means there are no more little girls growing up that will one day be four. It should be a crime.

Good Timing is Everything

I have never before had a white Christmas, but though the snow fell almost a week ago, it is still lingering. It's spotty, but I still see white on the ground on Christmas Eve. We will take what we can get.

So in the words of my snow cherub pictured above,

"I wish you a mewy Christmas,
I wish you a mewy Christmas,
I wish you a mewy Christmas and a happy new year.

Good timing is everything for you and your friends,
Good timing is everything for a happy new year!"


May you give yourself time to reflect on the awesomeness of what God did for us on Christmas!

A figurine Christmas

Poor Tiny Tim. Every year I feel sorry for him as we pull him out of the box. It is not enough that he has a debilitating disease that causes him to walk with a crutch, but his hand gets broken off every year. This is a new Tiny Tim, the previous little guy was broken beyond repair last year.

Then there is Belle who sings "We wish you a Merry Christmas". There is no volume on her speaker. We have an ongoing debate as to which girl she belongs to and it often ends in crying. So now her home is in the family room where we can monitor her safety, the girl's bedroom just wasn't working out.

Baby Jesus is not photographed because he is currently missing.

Intentionally Listening

Children on a field trip in Montemarte'

My eldest daughter made me stop and take notice of something I take for granted everyday: the words of my kids. They are priceless really, not to mention full of entertainment. Even when they are arguing there is laughter to be had if we are intentionally listening. Here is what has been making me smile and cry over the past two days as I opened my ears and took notice...

Caroline: "Mommy, I want my friend to come over and play. I really like her, but she is really tiny and has a tiny head and small feet."

Ella while playing 'CandyLand': "I know I loose a turn but it is okay, I am just gonna roll with it, I am not upset at all, I am just gonna say okay and just roll right on with it"....who is she trying to convince here?!?!

Caroline: "Mommy, what hurts when your feelings are hurt? Is it your ears?" Me: "No Caroline, it is your heart, your heart hurts if your feelings have been hurt." Caroline: "Not for me, my ears hurt."

Ella saying the blessing: "Thank you God for this food that Mommy picked up for us in the drive thru."

Caroline: "Mommy, please do not give me any of that dirty pineapple. I only want the clean, yellow ones." (She was assuming that any part of the pineapple where its outer layer wasn't perfectly cut off was dirt).

Ella: "Mommy, my friend whose Mom and Dad are dead lives with her Grandma. Who will she live with if her Grandma dies? Can she live with us? I will share my room."

What have your kids been saying to you lately that you hope you never forget?

A loaned pair of perfect eyes

The girls were bouncing off the walls. It has been a few days since I snapped this picture, so now I cannot even remember what they were doing. What I do remember is that I kicked them out of the house...now don't gasp at me, I did it in a nice way (kind of). I sent them out with a quilt and that was when Ella had the genius idea to take books with them. I kept an eye on them out my back window and suddenly they seemed different. I suppose it was because now there was glass in between us, it was like someone hit the mute button on the television. So I sat. I stopped bustling about the house and I tried to take it all in. I just sat and watched them. What a precious stage they are in right now, not too big, not too small...their ages seem to just suit them perfectly.

I sat watching for a few minutes, but they were soon up and off again. For the sake of keeping it real, please know that I was no more patient with the wild things when they came back inside then before they left. I am indeed a work in progress; but I was grateful for the moment that God allowed my eyes to be opened to see what He sees. His eyes are good eyes, I need to start praying that He will loan them to me more often.

Refocused Attention

Ever had a week you really wanted to hurry up and end already; and then you hear the voice of the One who is in control tell you to open your eyes and notice the gifts that have been given in that very moment? I love that voice of reason, that voice that is not rattled by confusion, that voice that is not controlled by emotion, that voice that sees the heart. It is the voice of the One that doesn't miss anything and yet still overflows with grace and love. It is the voice of the One that sits on His throne and completes brokenness...and aren't we a broken people!

I have been so distracted this week, and this is the voice I heard refocus my attention on the real dilemma I needed to be concerned with this week. "Should I be the Little Mermaid for Halloween or Super girl?" Caroline is really struggling, rather I should say she is obsessing. It is such a tough decision and there are pros and cons to each, ones that we have gone over and over and over. Super girl saves people and she has a cool outfit, but the Little Mermaid is really nice to people and has pretty seashells. Super girl is "like, all grown up and kind of a big kid" and the Little Mermaid "has hair that kind of stays back out of her face". If she is Super girl, she will match her big sister and baby brother, and if she is the Little Mermaid "that would be nice because the Little Mermaid is kind of sad because her daddy is mean". Oh how I love the struggles of a four year old. I think I am going to prefer them to the struggles of a sixteen year old. I think I am going to look back at this moment and wish I had not wished it away. I love the way that voice reminds us to love the moment we have, and in all things to give thanks. Anyone else had one of those moments?