Monthly Archives: July 2007
Got creativity?
Ellie can’t run for at least a week. We don’t want her to fall and re-open her split chin. Keeping a three-year-old subdued would be difficult enough for most, but not me. An undiscovered brain tumor repeatedly convinces me I need more challenges.
To complicate things just a touch, we’ve invited painters for the week. Our living room is covered in dust and dropcloths. The stairs are taped, the loft uninhabitable and the kitchen now possesses a lovely plastic wall preventing entry from the front room. The good news is we got painters this week because of rain. They were scheduled to do an outdoor job, but can’t in bad weather, so we lucked out! Yes, the kids and are are cocooned in the 12 x 12′ space that is my bedroom and the kitchen.
I’m trying to be creative with our time — I don’t want them just watching tv all week — but my creativity seems limited to food. We have made cakes shaped like trains, dirt cups — you know, pudding on the bottom with crushed cookies on top and some gummy worms for fun — and finally homemade Snickers ice cream. The kids help me measure and love using little hammers to crush our ingredients. It’s worked well so far … but I’m running out of ideas! It’s only Tuesday. At this rate our running-free week will only make the kids one week older and me ten pounds heavier. HELP!! I’d love some creative cabin-fever ideas, if you’ve got ‘em!
Zach’s first memory verse
We spent last night at the ER. Right at bedtime, Isabel took a spill on our renewed hardwood floors. (My summer project has been ripping up our carpet and getting back to the original hardwood. It looks much better, but the kids are still getting used to it.) After assessing her split chin, we decided to take her to the hospital where, after much tripidation and a lot of crying, she received about ten stitches.
What does this have to do with Zach’s memory verse? You know I teach — rather TRY to teach the kids memory verses. Usually, I’m repeating them while Isabel sings a beat behind and Zach happily ignores us. Well, this time he has learned it, too. The verse is Joshua 1:9. The slightly condensed version I’ve taught them is this:
“Be strong and courageous for the Lord your God is with you wherever you go.”
Zach’s version is something like this: “STRONG! O-RAGEOUS! GOD … GO, GO, GO!!” Yes, the boy has only one volume: mega-loud. This was quite evident last night in the hospital.
While Ellie was terrified, screaming at what must be done, Zach stood on a chair just outside her room quoting their memory verse. His mega-loud did not compete with her near-hysterical crying, but it warmed my heart. While he yelled for Ellie to be strong and courageous, I praised God for two kids who love each other so much. I praised Him for allowing me to witness the miracles of heart in these two. I praised Him for giving me a husband who doesn’t faint at the sight of blood and needles (in contrast to me). And today I am praising God for the ability to memorize His Word.
I am currently re-reading (for the third time) the “Mark of the Lion” series by Francine Rivers. I love these books! Hadassah, one of the main characters, is a Jewish Christian who has been captured after the fall of Jerusalem then sold as a slave in first century Rome. She is separated from her family, her Scriptures and all her friends. All she has is her memories, but she remembers a lot! As I read it, I wonder, if I were separated from my current life and stranded in a new land without a Bible, how much of it would I remember? How much Truth do I carry in my heart and mind?
I always labor over which verses to teach the kids. I want them to be understandable and applicable to these young souls. It seems the verses chosen are often “stumbled” upon, but before long God’s sovereignty is again made evident. The verses they memorize are remembered and used in no time. All Scripture is God-breathed and useful for teaching and application … Every bit of Scripture is important, but it still amazes me how such little phrases can be so important, so timely. It amazes me how words I have repeated over and over take on a new life when spoken with the breath of a child. It’s beautiful!
So what is my point? Only to encourage you, me, all of us to fill our hearts and minds with the words of God.
“Listen, Israel! The LORD our God is the only true God! So love the LORD your God with all your heart, soul, and strength. Memorize his laws and tell them to your children over and over again. Talk about them all the time, whether you’re at home or walking along the road or going to bed at night, or getting up in the morning. Write down copies and tie them to your wrists and foreheads to help you obey them. Write these laws on the door frames of your homes and on your town gates.” — Deuteronomy 6:4-9 (CEV)
I love this passage. It reminds us how very important God’s instructions are. Eugene Petersen’s paraphrase The Message puts it like this: “Write these commandments that I’ve given you today on your hearts. Get them inside of you and then get them inside your children.”
Memorizing Scripture is important. And helpful! You never know when you’ll end up in the ER needing a mega-loud reminder of what God has said.
Growing to Maturity
Maybe I did too good a job potty-training Isabel. I gave too much praise for fine deposits and supplied too much enthusiasm with her progress. Whatever the cause, I am still reaping the rewards. Each and every time Isabel goes to the bathroom, I hear a voice filled with sweet pride. “Mommy! I have a present for you!” She is always thrilled to reveal what she has produced. “Do you like your present? I made it just for you! I love you, Mommy.”
Of course, I’m thrilled with the gift, but the novelty is wearing off. Her going in the toilet is no longer a favor to me; it’s what she’s supposed to do. She’s three. She has been potty-trained since last December, yet she expects me to still be overjoyed with her achievements.
Today, as I stood smiling into the grand porcelain bowl, I wondered how often we do the same to God. We get all excited about our gifts and expect Him to be thrilled with our offerings. We think we’re doing something wonderful, giving Him something that will bring Him pleasure, but all He sees is a pile of poop.
Like Isabel, perhaps our self-imposed standards are too low. Consider this passage from Hebrews.
“For though by this time you ought to be teachers, you have need again for someone to teach you the elementary principles of the oracles of God, and you have come to need milk and not solid food. For everyone who partakes only of milk is not accustomed to the word of righteousness, for he is a babe. But solid food is for the mature, who because of practice have their senses trained to discern good and evil.” – Hebrews 5:12-14 (NAS)
The apostle Paul wrote of believers who should have been devouring spiritual steak, but still required milk. They didn’t grow at a healthy rate. They were stuck as faith infants.
Where are we? Are we content to drink the same spiritual lessons we learned long ago? Do we still expect praise for doing what we’ve always done and in fact are required to do? If so, we need to take it up a notch. We need to stretch our faith by diving deeper into the truths of God, by learning more of His character and the purposes for which He created us.
A big part of being a Christian is sanctification, the process by which we become more and more like Jesus. The blood of Jesus Christ washes away the sins of all who believe. God sees those believers as pure and holy. Sanctification makes us more as He sees us. Little by little we become the righteousness Jesus died to provide. Sanctification is growth. The more we know the heart of God, the more mature we become in our spiritual walk, the more we can enjoy steak instead of just milk. I love steak! Imagine the morsels of spiritual goodness we can taste if we continue to grow. May we never become stagnant.
(In case you’re wondering … no, that’s not one of my kids on the potty. It’s just a great photo I found online.)
What are you reading?
Random Thoughts
Does being right-handed automatically make you left-hipped? My kids fit nicely on my left hip with very little support. But try to put them on my right side and they slide right down. Am I unbalanced, with one hip enormously larger than the other? It doesn’t appear so … Is my posture that far out of whack? Do left-handed people suffer the same fate but in reverse?
Are the excrement schedules of siblings always synchronized? Without fail, every time I get Zach settled on the changing table and the diaper opened, Isabel yells from the other room: “Mommy!!!!! I gotta go potty!!! HELP!!!!” So, what do I do? Do I leave the half-clad boy on the table to run the three steps to the bathroom and sit her on the toilet, then return as quick as lightning to clean him up before she finishes tinkling? Do I force her to disrobe by herself? Do I redress Zach and force him to endure a messy diaper until she’s done?
Speaking of synchronization, are crying, whining and injuries contagious? If one child needs cuddles, the other immediately requires the same. Isabel will intentionally bang her head against the wall (literally) if Zach is injured and seemingly getting more attention than her at the moment. What is that about?
Why am I not in better shape? Being a mom is serious weight-training, but it doesn’t show. My children total about sixty pounds. Considering all the times I lift them — carrying them on my hips, my shoulders, my feet and my lap — and run with them — flying them high, chasing them around, teaching them soccer and golf, trekking up and down two flights of stairs several times a day — I should be free of sausage thighs squeezing out of shorts, muffin top above my jeans and wind flaps below my arms. This doesn’t make sense.
Is there a reason boys are naturally drawn to bugs, dirt and toilets? Do they inherently think gas is funny and bottoms are for scratching? I am so grateful my son has a father who can deal with all the things I don’t understand about boys.
There is much I don’t understand — not just about how my son is made or my daughter is made, but about how I am made. Why do I do the things I do so naturally, often without thinking at all? Whether I should or not? Sometimes it’s just the way I’m wired; the way I’m made. And I’m okay with that because …
“I will praise You, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made; Marvelous are Your works, And that my soul knows very well.” — Psalm 139:14 (NKJV)
I rarely think myself “mah-velous“, but I know God is good. I used to read this verse thinking the “fearfully” referred to me. Is it possible it refers to God? Just maybe He created me with halted breath. As he molded and fashioned my innermost parts, did He pause to make sure each detail was just right? How fantastic to know a God with endless creativity purposefully made each of us exactly the way we were meant to be. This doesn’t mean I can’t work on my muffin top and wind flaps, but I can praise God in the process and see the wonder He has built in me.
It’s still my choice.
“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.” — Galations 6:9 (NIV)
June Ellie-isms
Our Isabel has a funny way of looking at life. This month was FULL of her Ellie-isms. Enjoy!
“I hope I be a man someday.”
While in Target … “Hello! My name is Very Good Customer.”
“My hand is pwetending the curtain is her mommy and daddy.”
“It’s waining. It’s pouring. It is so waining us never gonna play soccer!! I so fwustwated.”
While helping me fold laundry … “When I grow up I going wear a bra bigger than this and my boobies won’t be floppy.”
Me: “Who is in charge?”
Ellie: “Mommy.” After a long pause and spoken a little quieter: “I’m a little in charge.”
“Why is Daddy dancing like that?” said while watching Rick edge the yard with a weed-wacker.
“Mommy, can I kick Grandma today? We’re going to do a lot of kicking at the park.” Before you think our children are abusive …Our kids love to pretend to kick the people pushing them while they swing. No grandmothers were injured at the park, I promise.
“I need a napkin. I spilled email on my chin, and Zachary put email on the table.” Translation: “We got OATMEAL everywhere!”
Me: “Did you hear a story at VBS today?”
Ellie: “No. We just had a special lady come in and talk about Moses. Then she told me to be quiet.”
