Category Archives: praise
Temporal Intimacy
The past two weeks have been amazing! I’m glad to be back, but am now faced with the thick reality of how temporal the experiences were.
A week ago Saturday I drove home from Philadelphia. It was early morning. I spent my first fifteen minutes on the road watching a fly on my windshield. When that thrilling entertainment came to an end, I turned on a worship CD.
I love driving by myself. As I let my mind wander and my heart sing, unbidden tears streamed down my face. I didn’t even bother to wipe them away. I felt they were washing me clean as God revealed Himself to me. All the wonders I’ve taken for granted, the blessings I’ve felt entitled to, the miraculous journey He’s enabled me to take. I was overcome by humility, honor, and gratitude. Why would the Creator of the universe take an interest in me? Why would He care what happens to me? I belted out praises to Him. I confessed and prayed and then sang some more.
Now, we’re back to normal life. Vacation is over. My mountain-top conference experience is past. School starts in a matter of days, my calendar is already filled for the next few weeks, and where has my praise gone? It’s been shelved, as always happens when I get back to “normal” life. I hate it. I love those moments of intimacy with God! Why is it so difficult to maintain that closeness? Why, when I get in my routine, do I prioritize sleep over quiet times? Why do deadlines and schedules make my faith robotic? Do I really believe five minutes in the bathroom is enough to feel close to God?
Making time to be still is difficult, but it’s so worth it. What helps you find that time? How do you keep your relationship with God fresh? What do you do with “broken appointments” with Him?
Praise!!
During the lifetimes of my son (almost three years) and this blog (a smidgen more than two years) two prayer requests have been constant: Zach’s sleep habits and his food allergies. If you’re new to the blog and have never endured a church potluck with our family, you may know nothing about them.
Here’s a quick recap.
Zach does not sleep through the night. We have tried everything, and I mean E-V-E-R-Y-T-H-I-N-G. Why doesn’t he sleep? Well …
He has had severe eczema, to the point of scratching himself bloody every time he sleeps, since about two months old. Eczema is typically accompanied by, though not directly related to, food allergies. So are ear infections. The poor kid had seven double ear infections before he was eighteen months old. We discovered the food allergies when I innocently handed him a teether biscuit, and hives swallowed him instantly from the chest up. He was between five and six months old. The best allergist in the area confirmed: Zach was allergic to ALL components of dairy (whey, casein, diary proteins, etc.), egg whites, peanuts and possibly dog hair.
This launched our family on a new adventure: learning a new way to shop, eat and store our foods at home and, while in public, protecting our adorable son from well-meaning food sharers of all sizes, ready to pounce from every crevasse of the known universe. I bought new cookbooks (Have you ever tried to make a birthday cake without eggs or dairy?) and relished vegan alternatives. (Long live Whole Foods!) I even learned how to make dairy-free, egg-free French toast. Impressive, eh?
Fast forward a couple years. Within the past six months Zach has been sneaking food. I didn’t fully realize how much until one day at Barnes & Noble. I had ordered a sandwich for myself and Ellie to split. I also got her a brownie. I had stuff from home for Zach. Well, while I was arranging Ellie’s plate and taking care of her drink, Zach stole my entire sandwich. Seriously. He ate the whole thing while my back was turned. It was in no way allergen-free. From the Swiss cheese to the mayo and processed meats, all piled high on artisan bread, it was a disaster for my highly allergic child! Or so I expected. I stared at him for a full ten minutes while internally mapping the quickest route to the hospital. Not a single hive. No reaction whatsoever!
Since then we’ve tested him on small amounts of different taboo foods. We had him re-tested with allergist. His levels were still detectable but a fraction of what they were two and a half years ago. Can I hear a “PRAISE GOD!!”
I’m not light on praise. My college suite-mate and I had a glory dance we did whenever God answered prayers, which, of course, He does all the time. If our conservative school knew how frequently we boogie in our basement dorm … Being one heavy on praise, I want to itemized all of God’s goodness in this area. He has answered our prayers mightily and my son has eaten all of the following foods with pleasure and no ill-effects.
- bread containing EGGS and DAIRY
- cakes containing BUTTER and EGGS
- sandwiches with MAYONNAISE (made from eggs)
- PEANUT BUTTER and jelly sandwiches
- CHEESE and crackers
- cereal with COW’S MILK (as opposed to soy milk)
- PEANUT BUTTER granola bars
- macaroni and CHEESE
- cinnamon rolls
- ICE CREAM
- fish breaded with EGGS
- salad with CREAMY dressing
- chocolate chip cookies with MILK chocolate chips
- sugar cookies (containing both BUTTER and EGGS)
- M&Ms
- CHEESE puffs
- PIZZA (two years ago the crust and the cheese both would have sent us to the ER!)
YEAH!!!!! He’s still not sleeping through the night, but his eczema is better and he hasn’t had any ear infections for a while, so I’m thrilled. And I’m hopeful that the sleep will soon come.
REJOICE WITH ME! 
“Praise God, who did not ignore my prayer
or withdraw his unfailing love from me.”
- Psalm 66:20 (NLT)
Paparazzi (‘Fro Me to You)
This is my family. Well, a small part of it: Nathan (my sister’s husband), me, my brother Tim and my mom. This was taken around Christmas 2001. At the time there was only one grandchild, only one nephew: Jacob. We all thought he was best thing in the world. Well, he was! And still is one of the best, only now he’s not the only one. Anywho, we were worse than paparazzi in the backyard that day. Rick and Tracy (my sister) were pulling Jacob around in a wagon tacked onto the back of a riding lawnmower. Three cameras and two camcorders. It was a fun day. I don’t have any good pictures of Jacob, but I’ve got this one. And I love it.
You ever think God gets this excited about His children? Do you think He watches with elated anticipation to capture the next delightful thing we may do?
Last night Rick and I watched Evan Almighty. (I was quite reluctant about it, because I HATED Bruce Almighty. I found it offensive and sacrilegious. But this one was very different. I won’t go into the details of the movie. I’ll just say if you haven’t seen it, you might want to check it out.) My favorite part of the movie was the very last scene. Evan, who has struggled throughout the entire movie’s journey to trust and obey God, stands in a large meadow under a single tree with God. There he acknowledges God’s infinite wisdom and His loving plan, the fact that He saw the future before it happened and gently orchestrated the events to happen in the best possible way. And then they “do the dance.” It’s not a get down and boogie type of dance; it’s a silly little victory dance most people do only when they think no one is looking. My college suitemate and I had one of these dances; just a little happy dance we did together whenever God answered prayers or tickled us in an undeniable way. We danced it a lot!
In the movie Morgan Freeman, who plays God, laughs during the dance. It’s a wonderful sound. My spine tingles at the thought of God laughing and dancing with me! Realizing that He loves me so much to delight in me when I delight in Him. It’s pretty awesome.
This post is sponsored by Sincerely ‘Fro Me to You over at We are THAT Family. Check out the carnival over there to see who else is sharing blasts from the past through pictures.
Desiring God
When kids get sick, they get clingy. Cuddling is great, but I need it in moderation. I like my personal space.
As a mom, I don’t get much. I’ve come to terms with the fact I’ll never use the toilet alone and will seldom take a shower without playing Peek-a-boo at the same time. There will always be someone touching me while I eat (usually with her feet) and another someone trying to steal my bed at night. Even household chores are group projects. I understand this is just the way things are and I’m okay with that. But after days and nights of touching and hugging and clinging and crying and synchronized poop sessions, I need solitude.
Zach understands. He’s an introvert. He likes people, but being with them exhausts him. He needs alone time to re-energize.
I gain energy by being with other adults, but I quickly become drained if my only interaction is with people under three feet tall. After a long day like that, I need quiet to refuel.
And then there’s Ellie. The definitive extrovert, she like a leech feeding off the energy of other people. Take away her social life and she quickly shrivels into a weary fount of tears. She can’t stand being alone. It’s the worse possible punishment for her. It exhausts her and she hates it.
This is why she can’t understand my need. She can’t get enough of me. We’ve had almost two weeks with just me and the kids. You’d think she’d be sick of me, but she’s not. “Mommy, I want you. I miss you. Sit with me. Play with me.” As I stifled another groan from the depths of my I-DON’T-WANT-TO spot, today I recognized the virtue of her affections.
One day in the not too distant future, this daughter of mine will want nothing to do with me. She’ll be too cool to hang with her old lady, and I’ll be wishing for more quality time with her. But for now she’s a child and she adores me. She wants to be with me every second of every day. Why aren’t we more like that with God?
We’re told only those who become like a child will enter the kingdom of Heaven (Matthew 18:3). Children love being with their parents. Moms and dads are the most popular people in the world to a preschooler. So, why aren’t we seeking our Father with as much persistence, passion and enthusiasm?
When I’m on the phone, Isabel is one step behind me the entire time. Sometimes I’m just walking to walk and sometimes it’s an attempt to get away from the kids and actually hear the person on the phone. It doesn’t matter to Ellie. She will chase me, anything she needs to do to make sure she’s with me, walking in my footsteps. Are you chasing God? Are you desiring nothing more than to be in His shadow, walking in His steps? I hope so.
It’s a challenge for me, a source of sanctification and of praise. Isn’t it great God never turns us away because He needs quiet? How awesome that He never tires of spending time with us!
I did it!
Anyone ever read A Hat for Ivan? It’s a children’s book by Max Lucado. It describes a village in which all the citizens wear hats. On their 12th birthday, they each receive their own customized hat, made just for them by the hatmaker. These hats tell them what they should do and what they should become. They draw attention to their strengths, their gifts and their greatest joys. The story tells of the hatmaker’s son, Ivan, who is about to turn 12. As he walks through town, several people give Ivan hats just like theirs. They presume to know what he should do. The baker wants him to be a baker; the music teacher thinks he would be better suited as a musician; the fireman has his own ideas, as well. None of the hats fit very well and they all weighed him down. Ivan was left in a heap trying to please everyone and never truly reaching his potential.
I’ve been an Ivan. Blame it on my middle-child syndrome. Or maybe I’ve just been convinced it’s the “right” thing to do. Regardless, I’ve been moping around for three weeks trying to convince myself to wear hats that don’t fit. I’ve been weighed down by what others think I should be doing. I’ve been crumped into a pile by the expectations placed upon me — none of which fulfill my purpose. I’ve listened to the wrong voices.
After posting this week and receiving all your words of encouragement, I did it. I made the calls I needed to make to get out from under the wrong hats. And you know what? Just like Ivan, I feel so much lighter! I feel happier and, best of all, I can now wear the hat made just for me. I’ve regained my desire to write. I’ve actually spent several hours today working on my book; a project that nearly fizzled has been revived. I’m so grateful!
So, THANK YOU for your prayers and encouragement. Thank you for your sound wisdom. And thank you for your patience with my compaining and dim-wittedness, two traits that seem to prevail often. *grin* I praise God He doesn’t give up on us, even when we’re not listening. I thank Him for His clear direction and quiet strength that allow us to heed His still, small voice.
In the swing of things
I’ve not posted much lately, have I? I’m sorry! I’m still getting in the post-holiday swing. In the meantime, life is good here! Let me fill you in just a bit.
I’ve started a new Bible study! I love group Bible studies. There’s just something amazing about people sharing their lives together while learning more about God. Since moving here I’ve struggled to find a class or group where I “fit,” but my desire for such fellowship never waned. So what do I do? I start one myself. The response has been amazing. Every lady I approached was eager to join. They’re even inviting friends! What I thought would be maybe three or four ladies has turned into ten maybe twelve. What an opportunity! I’m thrilled. I’ve actually split the group into two: one will meet twice a month on Tuesday evenings and the other same weeks, but on Thursday mornings. We’re studying Esther. I’m falling in love with this story. I’ve read it before, but now as I’m dive into the historical context, the characters envelope my imagination, filling my sould with fresh understanding of God. I’m sure as I go through this study many of my posts here will branch forth from the life of this ancient Queen of Persia. Anyway, last night was our first get-together. It went better than expected. And shame on me for expecting less! God placed this study and these women on my heart. Of course, He’ll bless it! And that He did. I’m honored and humbled to be His tool.
In other news, Rick and I are leaving for vacation in 22 days. Woo-hoo! Yes, a week-long child-free romantic get-away. Oh, I can’t wait!! My gracious in-laws are taking over our house and offspring for the week. How fabulous is that?! It’s almost too much.
Here I sit with Ruthie (as I’ve named my laptop) fully restored — did I tell you she underwent surgery? Oh, it was awful. This gift, my friend and writing companion, was doused in soda thanks to a toddler and a beverage held too close. Rick needed to replace her fan and keyboard. I didn’t even know you could do that! Well, he did, with excellence. It was quite the undertaking. And now I sit, with a good-as-new Ruthie. My house is clean, dinner is in the crockpot and two kids kids are sleeping. My heart overflows.
Sometimes life seems so hard, so complicated. Then there are days like this. Praise God for glimpses of Heaven.
“He performs wonders that cannot be fathomed, miracles that cannot by counted.” Job 5:9
Job suffered so much! Yet even he wondered at God. Now, if only my heart will carry over from today the glimses I need for tomorrow.
One thing I do well
Parents can always tell how they’re doing by watching their children. I’m not talking about the children’s behavior, but the children’s imitation.
An audience of One
Hey, all! Thank you for your prayers and kind encouragement while I was sick. I am feeling MUCH better — still not 100%, but I’m getting there.
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.
Make a Joyful Noise!
Isabel loves to sing. Remember her incessant talking? Her singing is in the same vein. It starts the moment she wakes up and rarely stops until after she’s entered dreamland. It’s difficult to accurately tell with toddlers what is music and what is not. If she’s dancing, we’ve got a clue. But she’s not always dancing. In an effort to be thorough, I categorize all happy talking as singing.
Not long ago she and I were in the kitchen. I sat at the table trying to do something on my computer. She stood inches away “singing”. To me it sounded more like screeching. I love when she’s happy, but sometimes the happy singing is just too high-pitched. I stopped what I was doing and turned to see a huge smile on the most adorable little face. “I making music for you, Mama!” She was so proud. I gave her a hug and a kiss and told her Daddy would love to have some music too.
On another occasion of gentle deferment, she asked me: “Mommy, is this noisy in your ears?”
I smiled, remembering Psalm 98:4 – “Make a joyful noise unto the Lord, all the earth: make a loud noise, rejoice and sing praise!” (KJV)
“Honey, it is noisy, but it’s a happy noise, and I love happy noises!” As I swung her around in my arms, we made all kinds of loud, happy noises. We danced and sang and yelped and giggled. It’s fun to make a joyful noise.
