Absolutes

Elyse has recently started saying "never" a lot.....

"Daddy's never coming home."

"I'm never hungry."

"I'm never tired."

"I'm never going to get ......"

Improper use of absolutes were something that always (pun-intended) irritated my dad.  We were taught from a young age that we simply shouldn't use them unless it was absolutely appropriate, and you were sure of that.  Decades later it strikes a nerve in me when Elyse says it and lately she says it often.  

I sat down with her the other day and attempted to explain to her what "never" meant.  I gave her examples of things that would never happen (us not loving her, God not loving her), things that don't happen often (vacationing at the beach), and things that feel like they may never happen (going to Disney World).  I gave her scenarios and asked her when it was appropriate for us to use "never" in that sentence.  

I quickly realized there aren't many things I can say "always" or "never" about.  In fact, the only two things I could think of were God's love for her and the love Matt and I have for her.  What else can I promise?  In essence that's what absolute words are, promises.  It prompted me to Google the definition of "absolute" and this is what I found:

    ab·so·lute

adj.

1. Perfect in quality or nature; complete.

2. Not mixed; pure.

3. Not limited by restrictions or exceptions; unconditional: absolute trust. Unqualified in extent or degree; total.

4. Unconstrained by constitutional or other provisions: an absolute ruler.

5. Not to be doubted or questioned; positive

That definition only yielded one source.  God.

It sparked a renewed desire in me to ensure she grasps that.  Not today, not tomorrow, but as soon as she can.  It's a gift to see her prayers mature, but with maturing prayers come questioning doubt with what she cannot see or feel.  Faith.  She is spreading her feelers out about faith.  Something only she can acquire and only God can grow.  I have my own struggles with my faith, primarily if it's enough, so the insecurity is creeping in on whether or not I'll be equipped to journey this road with her in the way that she deserves.  In the manner that I desire for her.  I want her to have the best example possible and I'm struggling most days at best.  

A single orange flower made of pipe cleaners rests on my counter to remind me not to yell.  Words and embraces of apologies and forgiveness are spoken numerous times a week.  Church services are missed.  Parents squabble.  I get so wrapped up in my own little world that I forget what it means to serve others.  Selfish desires spring from my lips before pausing to give thanks.

I find myself so often coming back to the phrase, "I cannot change what I do not acknowledge".  It's a great saying but it takes more action that just acknowledging.  I need to do more to change....always.

I do, absolutely, love these girls.

  

Mustard seed.  Those two words have come to mean so much.  I've heard and read the scripture (Matthew 17:20) but I'd never held one until months back at bible study when we were each given one to go along with the message.

That tiny thing, that really tiny thing in the middle.  In the middle of the middle.  The little white speck, is a mustard seed.  That's all the faith we need to move mountains.

It started out as a gift we each carried in our pockets, purses, etc. for ourselves as a reminder.  Then the gift began to be paid forward.  Given to a woman in Walgreens receiving a phone call that a loved one had passed.  Given to at an airport baggage checker in Texas flustered by crashed computers and a long angry line.  To family.  To strangers.  To anyone where the nudge was felt.  The seed moved forward.

I held onto mine.  No reason.  I just did.  It would be in the change compartment of my wallet or I'd rub it in my pocket when I was nervous or doubtful.  I hadn't felt the nudge to give it away.  I'm still learning, oh the stories I could tell of how I'm learning, what that nudge sounds and feels like and the confirmation when I'm obedient. 

I was eventually nudged.  I was driving home, tired kids who needed lunch in the car.  We were within 2 miles of home and I only know that because of my jogging.  Our community we live in is great.  We live in an "upper-middle class", one of the most "desired areas of Tampa", neighborhood.  I mention that to lead into whom I met.  As I was driving, on the opposite side of a 4 lane road, barrier between, I saw a woman sitting by a pond.  Nothing out of the ordinary at all.  The weather was gorgeous, perfect by Tampa standards but I was told, "talk to her".  The kids were whining and I kept driving, unsure of what was occurring.  Again, "talk to her".  I made a u-turn and drove past her. slowly this time, on her side of the road.  I peered, taking in the situation.  She looked fine, just enjoying the day.  In all of my judgement, I passed her again.  A little louder this time, "Talk to Her".  Again, another u-turn with nowhere good to pull off because it's 4 lanes.  I park the truck a block or two up, unload the kids and approach her.  I had to trust at this point, even with my small kids.

Ten feet back our eyes met and she just smiled.  The wrinkles around her eyes were beyond her years but her light brown eyes sparkled and her smile was so genuine.  Behind the smile though, I saw it, I felt it.  The pain she carried vibrated through my core.  I almost cried on the spot because in that instant I trusted even more this encounter.

I said hello, introduced myself.  I explained I was driving by, felt like I should stop and I wondered if there was anything I could do for her.  Oh my the floodgates opened!  She started crying immediately and her story was heavy, one I don't have the experience to handle.  She was recently out of prison, staying with her son and they didn't have much at all.  She told me how, through different ministries, she found God in prison but that life with faith is so much harder out here than it was within those walls.  Her family didn't believe anything was different.  She said she was sitting at that pond praying for God to show Himself, to "give her a sign" that He was out here too. 

I started crying.  Mind you, my kids are still here.  I pulled my mustard seed out of my pocket, Elyse asked to hand it to her, and the woman, hysterically crying, quoted the scripture about the mustard seed. We talked, we hugged, it was beautiful.

Before we left I gave her toiletries I had in my car (I carry around for the homeless) and a bible.  She couldn't believe I gave her a bible, hers was still in prison.  I prayed over her.  The first time in a long time I've prayed over a total stranger and the words just flowed.  The power.  The intimacy.  The impact.  The presence of the living God. 

I gave away my first mustard seed and now I have another.  I hope they burn holes in my pockets. 

So, the kids you may ask.  Was I unwise?  Did I place them in danger?  Perhaps, but I didn't do this blindly and I didn't do it without direction.  Some won't see that.  I knew we were fine.  I know that I knew that I knew that we were in the most secure place we could have been in that moment.  Elyse has since asked to give "the sad lady by the pond" one of her baby dolls (we've been discussing what generosity means).  That mustard seed is the Jesus I want my kids to grow up knowing and seeing.  A Jesus of not just love, but of action. 

This week I helped with a weeknight bible study and facilitated one in our home with moms for the first time.  They weren't perfect, at all.  I was honest with my knowledge (or lack there of) and admitted my hurts and habits.  It was not comfortable.  It is not the easy road.  But it's light.  Oh how it's light.

My biggest lesson.  I'm loved right where I'm at, my imperfect wreck of a self.  Through all my shortcomings and garbage all he wants me to do is the next thing.  Just do the next thing.  And I will. 

This may surprise you, but I'm still here.  Barely, apparently seeing how my last post was one month ago.  I used to feel the need to purge my thoughts onto this blank white screen every few days but, well, life happens.  Now at the end of most days all I feel the need to do is put up my feet and relax.  I've become lost in a few good books, some worthwhile (to me at least) projects,  a few photography jobs (laying low from that right now though), lots and lots of cooking (since joining a produce co-op), exercising, raising kids while sparing sanity, bible study and laundry.  Just like everyone else.

I've found myself wondering how anyone finds the time to blog but I realized I can find the time to do anything I really want to do.  It just has to be a priority to me.  Right now multiple things have come before this blog but I hope to one day do it frequently again.  I'm not sure I'll have any readers at that point, but I know there are a few loyal ones out there that will probably take a peek.

The girls are doing well and changing fast.  If parenting were described as hills and valleys, with Elyse we're in a valley.  She's quick to speak, slow to listen and fast to upset.  Very.  Big.  Issues.  I've found myself yelling on more than one occasion and it hurts my heart.  It immediately lets me know that I've failed her with too many chances and consequences that aren't meeting the offense.  We had such a great period with her where we were so proud.  Her growth and tender heart were so evident.  I'm wondering if with all of the great behavior we got a little lax which caused her to stretch her boundaries a little, alas here we are.  I'm not confident in what caused the change but I am confident we will get through it and be better for it.  One thing that has been revealed to me over time though, is her heart.  Her tender, tender heart.  She is the most sensitive 3 year old I've ever met.  Teaching her words and appropriate responses to all those unsettling feelings that overtake her each day is a challenge.  Witnessing her sensitivity and tenderness serve and empathize with others is an honor.  She doesn't like to be hurt and she doesn't like anyone else to hurt either, so when she tries to sting you with words it hurts more from her than from anyone else.  She is a comforter, big time.  Adley can rip a wad of her hair out and Elyse is the first one to comfort the upset toddler who was told "no".  She remains my steadfast helpmate and her love for cooking and baking has us both in the kitchen multiple times a week.  The extra mess has been worth it each time.  Hopefully, one day, she will be willing to eat more of what we cook together as the food battles remain.....improved, but still present.  Her sensitivities aren't just emotional, she seems to have exacerbated senses in general.  She can smell and hear things most anyone would miss.  She's just like me in so very many ways, my tender heart goes out to her because being sensitive can be hard but if there's one things I wouldn't change about myself it would be that.  At bedtime, after we've read her 3 chosen books, she still begs for one of us to lay in bed with her.  What started as a treat is now a nightly ritual and the conversation and prayers couldn't be sweeter.  

Adley......sweet, sweet, busy, Adley.  She's 18 months old today.  Need I say more?  She's become my little buddy and enjoys being along for the ride in anything.  She remains easy, content and very laid back but has started to show her sensitive side when instructed to do things she doesn't want to do.  The battle of fleshly desires and parental instruction has begun and it's in such a different manner than Elyse expressed it that she has left us both stumped at times.  Nothing beats her huge hugs and open-mouthed kisses though.  In fact, she hugs strangers.  All.  The.  Time.  Some people think it's odd, most people, it seems to make their day.  She is honestly a ray of sunshine.  I get asked over and over, "is she always this happy?" and yes, she really is.  She tries her best to keep up in games of chase or wearing hooded towels as capes.  She holds her own in a family wrestling match and loves to rough house (which goes great with a sensitive sister ;-)).  At bedtime, after the same 2 picture books she wants read over and over, when she lays her sweet head on my shoulder, blankie in hand and thumb in mouth, she pats my back while we sing "twinkle twinkle".  A day couldn't end more peacefully.

They are amazing little girls who challenge and inspire me everyday.  Witnessing their relationship with each other unfold is pure joy.

I think that's about all the catching up I can do tonight.  It's past my bedtime ;-).

Tree of Seasons

Wow.  Long time no post.  I'm typing that every time I log onto this blog.  I'll get right to it.

Last week at bible study we focused a bit on John 15: 1-16 where Jesus is teaching us that he is the true vine and his Father the gardener.  We discussed cutting off branches that weren't bearing fruit and pruning ones that were, but that to bear fruit it must remain on the vine, with Christ.

As I've mentioned before, the bible study I attend is called the Front Porch.  Well, on my 'back porch' today God showed me this:

Three seasons are shown here.  The healthy, full green of spring;  the withered, dried brown of winter;  the vibrant, bold red of fall.  I'm constantly learning to become more aware of that still small voice, but it urged me not just to look at that tree, but to see that tree.  To make note of it.  Maybe this trio of seasons and colors happen everywhere but this is the first time it truly caught my attention.

The speaking continued......we're given different seasons to prepare our branches for different fruits.  None of these leaves are wrong, none less beautiful than the other, none without purpose.  They are each simply in their season which cannot be rushed or it will hinder the following.

I struggle with the monotony and lack of mental stimulation as a stay at home mom.  Laundry and dishes, meals and diapers, tantrums and baths......it's a beautiful gift that gets repeated in similar form each day.  It isn't that I'm ungrateful or don't realize the impact and preciousness it carries, it's that I still struggle with aspects of it.  I still long to do more, to do different, yet be here all the same.  

This is my fruit and this is my season.  I was chosen and appointed to bear fruit.....fruit that will last (John 15:16).  It needs pruning and attention but my branches will not bear leaves like this for long.  They will be plucked away, seeds once planted soon taking root, pushing through the soil reaching for the sun, stretching out branches of their own.  I'll be in my new season, leaves a new color and I'll remember this tree.  I'll hope the fruit I bore will last and I imagine I will wish for just one more day bearing the prior leaves.

I looked away from the tree and went to walk back inside.  I was urged to look again.  "Notice where that tree is planted, where that tree is rooted."  I whispered out loud, "Beside still waters" (Psalm 23).  On my toughest days He will restore me.  If I abide in Him, He will abide in me.  The tree isn't just near it or up higher on the hill, it is practically IN the water.  Where do I find rest?  How close to the water am I?            

Big Baby

Two years ago this past Christmas Elyse was gifted a doll from my mom.  Elyse, just 18 months old, named the doll "Big Baby".  The doll isn't big, but to an 18 month old she probably seemed that way.  The doll cries, sucks a pacifier, makes slight facial expressions and drinks from a pretend bottle.  Big Baby sleeps with Elyse, gets pushed around in the doll stroller, has sat at the table for meals and has joined us on many a car ride.  She's special to Elyse, very.

About a year ago Big Baby's face froze in a daunting expression.  Her eyes at half-mast in an eternal pause between closed and open.  We changed the batteries and tried what we could to "revive" Big Baby, but she had cried her last cry.

I searched and searched the internet looking for a replacement.  I finally found one, brand new in box on Ebay.  It arrived quickly and was opened with such excitement we filmed it.  The old Big Baby was tossed in the garbage without any hesitation and our new Big Baby was home.

After being broken for so long, the new Big Baby was like a brand new toy.  Elyse thrived on settling her cries and insisted on bringing her along to most places, just as she has the old one.

Fast forward another year, with another walking child who also loves Big Baby but isn't quite as gentle and we have another broken Big Baby.  Something in her head rattles around and she makes this horrendous buzzing sound when she cries or drinks.  The noise started this morning.

I opened the Velcro of her outfit and tried replacing the batteries in case they were just running low.  It was then that I noticed a small part of her neck was cracked and her head wasn't secured very tightly.  This allowed me to actually pull of her head and look inside at the little plastic wheels and wires that gave Big Baby so much expression.  The plastic wheels continued to grind making that awful sound and I didn't have clear enough view or access to fix that.  However, I was able to remove the free-floating plastic piece which helped a little.  I prodded some more, attempting to gain better view of whatever was making that awful noise and "snap".  There went the rest of Big Baby's neck attachment.  I tried super glue which worked temporarily but it didn't help at all.  I had tired too hard to fix Big Baby, I made things worse.  Soon I would be picking up a 3 year old from school and when she went to pick up her treasured doll she would be greeted with a slumped head and buzzing gears, and after the last break in her I caused, another rattling free-floating piece of plastic.

I checked Ebay again.  There's one for sale.  It's $20 with shipping and comes with a few extras.  My mom offered to take her to get a new doll since these Big Baby's don't seem to hold up to much wear and tear.

I decided to wait and see.  I debated letting Elyse know what had happened to her favorite friend but I kept silent.  She came skipping into the house, grabbed her doll and trotted off with Big Baby clutched tightly in her arms.  I waited.  For the rest of the day I waited.  Nothing.  Elyse never said a word.

I know this is a long, rambling post about a doll but it didn't hit me until tonight that it was more than that.

Love really can blind you to the most obvious of afflictions.  It was still Big Baby.  She was still hers.

The first time Big Baby broke Elyse didn't ask for a new one.  Her frozen contorted face didn't bother her, it bothered me.  I wanted my child's first love to be easy on the eyes and function like it should.  This second time, I rushed to search for a new one for a kid that hasn't even noticed her doll is broken.

Elyse doesn't understand what "superficial" means yet, but I will quickly teach her with seemingly harmless actions like that.  It isn't good enough if it isn't flawless.  Ouch.

Obviously that is never the message I would purposefully convey.  I'm just a mom, trying to right a wrong.  Elyse taught me this isn't a wrong and all things broken don't need fixing when viewed through the lens of love.

God sees me with my cracked neck, slumped head and knows the noises from me can often be an annoying buzz.  But I am loved anyway.  I was made in His image and I am a new creation in Christ.  Pure.  Blameless.  I am viewed as whole even when nothing appears intact.  I am God's Big Baby.

Today

Today is worth marking.  A day to put a big black Sharpie circle around on the calendar.

I was asked to lunch.  By a great person.  By a busy person.  By the person who teaches bible study, has a million friends and has 4 kids.  By a person I didn't know well at all.  By a person who prayed.  For me.  But I didn't know that yet.

I was nervous.  Very nervous.  My stomach was twisting as I pulled into the parking lot but everything in my spirit caused settle and I knew, in full confidence, this would be grand.  This meal was anointed, this appointment Divine.

It was a normal lunch.  She was really nice.  Adley made a royal mess with food.  We had much more in common than one might imagine.  Yet in the grand scheme of things, don't we all.  This taught me that.  We are all searching, struggling people in need of a Savior.  In need of feeling worthy enough for someone random to ask us to lunch, just to get to know us better.  I hardly felt worthy of her prayers, much less her time.  Time.  In our society It Is a GIFT!  A gift that should be paid forward.

The conversation flowed smoothly.  I can't recall an awkward silence.  But as she spoke of things she prayerfully heard regarding me, things she saw in me, I literally felt my insides, my nerves, any fiber that was connected to anything that moved, curl in.  I was coiling on the inside like a nocturnal creature hiding from the sun.  I couldn't make eye contact for fear of losing it altogether.  She wasn't showering me with compliments. She was a voice saying things aloud that my spirit has been stirring in me for so long but I've been so afraid to believe.  Afraid to take hold of.  After all, if I truly grasped these concepts, what would that look like?  Would I mess it up like I have so many other things?

A well laid plan for my life wasn't spelled out.  My purpose was not proclaimed.  My calling was not defined.  But the message I needed to hear rang clear.  God knows I love Him.  He knows the heart He gave me and He wants to use it for His good.

If she sees it.  He must see it.  Even with all my messes.  With all my history.  All my shortcomings, struggles and failures.  All my confidence issues, battles of worthiness and fears of failing......He loves me and I am made for more.

I was not made to hide behind things He went to the cross for.  His design was not for me to be perfect before I became completely His.  I am loved.  Right where I am.  We all are.  Why, oh why, is that so hard to cling to? I can own that.  Right now.  In this instant.  As I type I am loved.  Beyond measure.  And people need to know that but first I have to believe it.  I thought I did.  I really didn't think knowing I was loved was an issue but I'm realizing my insecurities run deep and being truly, fully, and completely loved isn't a thing I easily accept.

I will attempt to be more bold this year (that's a bold statement if I've ever seen one).  I actually first wrote, "I will be bold this year" and I couldn't hit the delete button fast enough.  I need to grow in courage with my faith and realize that I don't need to tidy all my corners before I live out sharing what saved me.  What that looks like, I don't know.  But I think it looks a lot like time with people.  Love God.  Love people.  I can start there.

Big, black, sharpie marker circle around today.

 Down time.

Elyse has been out of preschool for 2 weeks and Matt has been off 9 out of the last 14 days, not counting the day he worked from home, that he hasn't had to travel at all, or that he's getting home a little earlier in the evenings when he does work.  We've had family visit a few times and Elyse has spent the night away 3 different nights.

Our house is all out of whack.  In a good way.  We wake up late, linger in pajamas and let routines get a little lax.  We've frequented parks, bounce houses and beaches.  Visited friends, family and the zoo. We've eaten ice cream and dined at restaurants.  I've squeezed in work-outs at off-the-wall times.  Grocery shopping seems unplanned and on whims.  They are perfecting new Christmas toys and the phrase "we share in this house" is taking on a whole new meaning.  

The disorder and freedom of an empty calendar has found us connected in a great way.  There isn't guilt over wasted time and minutes don't seem nearly as precious or pressured when you have a few to spare.  

I love routine.  I do.  My kids do.  My husband does.  There is comfort in predictability, assurance in patterns, and security in knowing what to expect and what is expected.  As we enter this last weekend before the calendar once again takes on it's previous form, I can reflect with a feeling of balance, time well spent and souls well nourished.  I'm not ready to give this up, but at the same time I think we're all ready for a little rhythm in our step.  

I'll post a few pics below.

They loved chasing seagulls.

 Checking out the sand between her toes.

 Looking far too grown.

Fist-full of shells!

Love. 

Bedheads in a jeep.

New bike!!!!  Such a huge hit with her.  We almost didn't put it under the tree but we're so glad she did.  She rode it around the family room and out the door.  She hasn't looked back since.  She thought she was too little, which made us wonder as well.  She tried and conquered, definitely a moment to celebrate.  She was also very afraid of the jeep at first.  It's taken a few time, now on "slow" mode Elyse drives them both all around.  Adley got a little trampoline that I don't have a picture of yet (we did a better job of taking video this year instead of still pictures) but she is mastering it and jumping up a storm.

 We hosted 2 rounds of family Christmas day.  Matt's side came fist and we did a big lasagna lunch.  My side came next for the traditional turkey with all the fixings.  My mom requested we get pictures of us that day and I'm so glad she did.  We snapped a few first thing after everyone arrived instead of trying to cram it in later when kids are tired and people are packed up to leave.  I need to make a mental note of that for future gatherings.  Pictures first!

 I'm actually 4 inches taller than my younger sister (second from the right) but I look so short in this.  I'm the only sister not in heels ;-).