It wasn’t long ago that I purchased a white set of table and chairs from IKEA.  They are just the right size for my littlest, Mackenzie.  My intention was that she would use them during our school time – to sit and look at books, or color.  That was my plan anyway.

But, you have to know my feisty little toddler.  In her mind the table and in particular the two chairs have many, many alternate uses.  If she’s anything, my little Mackenzie is bold and creative.  A take charge baby girl who knows what she wants.

Recently, on a cold afternoon, I was sitting in the living room, reading.  Mackenzie was pushing one of her white chairs across the room.  She had a lot to tell me that day, and so, repeatedly she would push the chair right up to my chair and crawl up to a standing, tippy-toe position to step into my lap.

Typically I’m not overly cautious when it comes to these maneuvers.  But honestly, on the third or fourth time of this rigamarole I said, “Mackenzie, really, you don’t have to use the chair.  I’ll pick you up – you can sit on my lap!” And I meant it.  She didn’t need the chair to get close to me.  But, she insisted.  “No mommy!  I must use my chair to stand next to you!”  and that’s exactly what she said, I promise.  over and over. every time.

I couldn’t get her to understand:  she didn’t need that chair.

That afternoon of shenanigans with my baby girl, has made me think.  How often do I use something, just like she used that chair, hoping to get close to my Heavenly Father?  And the more I’ve thought that question through, the more uncomfortable I’ve become. I have a lot of different “chairs” I’m using, up on tip toes, trying to get up close and personal with my Heavenly Father.  Thing like : church attendance, good behavior, false humility, oh heavens this list is long and embarrassing, I can’t bear to reveal them all…

But.  Here is the truth.  I don’t need any of those things.  No matter how often I push up close to Him to get His attention, clutching those things, insisting on them, He is saying, “No, no sweet girl.  You don’t need those.  Come close to me and I’ll pick you up and hold you – everything else is unnecessary.  I promise.  Don’t you know, I just want you?”

And I suppose I don’t.  I mean, I do in my head.  But, I forget in my heart.  He loves me.  It is unconditional.  His grace is unaffordable in the economy of my life, if I were paying with my own actions.  But time and time again He pulls me close to Himself when I’ve done nothing to deserve it.  How amazing.  How wonderful.

Since my memory is so terrible, I read these verses a lot, hoping it will settle permanently into the very depths of my heart…  I am so thankful for these words that Paul wrote in his letter to Ephesus:

Ephesians 2:

⁴ But God, who is rich in mercy, because of His great love with which He loved us,⁵ even when we were dead in trespasses, made us alive together with Christ (by grace you have been saved), ⁶ and raised us up together, and made us sit together in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, ⁷ that in the ages to come He might show the exceeding riches of His grace in His kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. ⁸ For by grace you have been saved through faith, and that not of yourselves; it is the gift of God, ⁹ not of works, lest anyone should boast.

Heavenly Father, How I need these reminders, these words of promise.  I have hope for each day because of your love and grace.  May I live with your grace at the heart of my words and deeds.  amen.

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the lyrics to a song by Sara Groves, are so true and real to me today…

Something Changed.

Something changed inside me broke wide open all spilled out
Till I had no doubt that something changed

Never would have believed it till I felt it in my own heart
In the deepest part the healing came

Something so amazing in a heart so dark and dim
When a wall falls down and the light comes in

And I cannot make it
And I cannot fake it
And I can’t afford it
But it’s mine

(I just found this in my archives, one of the first pieces I ever attempted to write…  thought I’d share it.)

I’ve been thinking lately, about numbers. I have a lot of numbers in my head these days – significant, bewildering, unimportant – all kinds of numbers. They give entrance to important details about me, they tell me how much money I owe, they tell me my grocery budget, – Numbers. Anyone who knows me, would tell you I’m not a numbers kind of gal – I do not give them much thought. ever. But, a number that has taken on new meaning to me is this number, three…

You know there are numbers in Scripture that mean things. There’s seven – it’s a big one. Its recognized during the seven days of creation in Genesis. So, I suppose it has a fairly high rank of importance. And forty – its pretty big, too – the flood was for forty days – and then Jesus was in the wilderness for 40 days. But three – it takes a place all unto its self – the trinity – three – speaks of The Father, The Son and the Holy Spirit – the three-in-one. It definitely deserves recognition.

Aside from that (as important as that is) three has come to mean something completely different to me over the past couple of months. Three now means – three clean outfits to find on Sunday morning. Three juice cups or bottles to make up when mouths are thirsty. This is a big ordeal if my dishwasher is full, but not run yet. It means three people to potty train – one is successful and accomplished in this category, but two to go. It means three to keep track of at the park and three to buckle in their seats when no one wants to leave yet… (this in particular should be considered a form of aerobic work out). I could go on.

There are many wonderful things about three. Its three times that I will watch for someone’s first steps with anticipation. Three times the amount of hugs during the day, with three requests for snuggling and stories at bedtime. And three will be how many will call out “mama” for the first time. Three will surprise me with beautiful artwork for the refrigerator. And three will bring small and large victories to our home, like learning to ride a bicycle, or reading a few first words, or playing on a first piano recital – three to make me burst with pride.

Three is personal now – with very particular, lovable faces. Emily, Isaac and Mackenzie. First was Emily, my sincere and diligent child. She captured my heart with her black hair, sparkling eyes and her quiet spunk. Second, by surprise, was my little sweet heart, Isaac, with a sensitive heart and smiling eyes, a heart breaker for sure. And there’s Mackenzie, my third blessing. We’ve really only just met, she and I, but even now her personality is peeking out with its own unique features, with a giggle that bubbles from her little belly and a grin that warms me all the way to the tips of my toes.

These are the three, entrusted to Michael and me by our Heavenly Father. Three to love unconditionally as Christ has loved us. Three to raise, with Him on their minds and in their hearts.

There are so many numbers out there with special interests demanding time and space in my brain. But this number three claims real estate in my heart. All by itself as a stand alone it does not represent anything significant. However – to me it is a reflection of God’s handiwork and creativity; Its the number of incredible children that God has given to our family. And I wonder – Could there be anything more special or wonderful…?

Thank you God for this beautiful number, three.

md

(written November 18, 2009)

Tomorrow is December 31, 2011.  I can’t help but look over my shoulder with a full heart and a smile on my face.  2011 has been full of ups and downs, there is no doubt.  But, in spite of it all my Heavenly Father has been merciful, walking each step with me.

And our family has weathered some serious, heavy-duty storms, both figurative and literal; snow storms, tornados, flooding: we’ve survived them all.  But, I have snapshots; postcards from my Heavenly Father that remind me of the blessings.  I can gaze at them and reminisce about how He has single handedly brought us through another year.  And, they remind me that the coming days are full of hope, knowing He has designed every moment of the future.

And so, my dear friends, my prayer for you in the coming year is this:  May you find His strength when your stamina is failing.  When turmoil is overwhelming, may His peace completely surround you.  For the darkest moments, the light of His presence, for the lowest valleys His grace to lift your heart.  And most of all – I pray for you that His unfailing love will be your portion each day of 2012.

With joy and thanksgiving,

Melody.

If you were my neighbor, tomorrow morning at 3 am you would see my family pulling out of our garage.  Yes, that’s right, we would be heading out of town for Grand Rapids, Michigan.  We will be spending the Christmas holiday with my parents.

It’s a thirteen or fourteen hour drive to Grand Rapids from here.  When I tell people about the planned expedition for my little family, some folks look at me like I’m absolutely nuts.  I do realize that most people like to be in their own home for Christmas morning.  But I consider myself a Christmas Vagabond.  Let me explain.

Growing up most families have Christmas traditions.  For us, our family had a consistent tradition.  We traveled.  We left our home, wherever it was, and went to be with family for the holiday.  I have very few memories of Christmas morning at home because we weren’t at home.

Now, before you begin to decorate for the pity party I should tell you I do not feel bad about this at all.  In fact I embraced it.  The anticipation of loading up the car and heading out was unbelievable.  And it only increased as we got closer to the destination.  Yes –  even as a child I loved to travel at the holidays .

I remember one particular Christmas we made the trek from London Ontario all the way to Ottumwa Iowa for Christmas Day.  In case you aren’t well traveled in the Midwestern part of the continent, it is a long way from London to Ottumwa.  We drove the first leg of our trip and stayed over night in a hotel on Christmas Eve.  For some people this would be unbearable, horrible, rotten; it would be almost as bad as the Hoo’s Christmas in Hooville when the Grinch stole their Christmas.  But we didn’t feel that way.  We hung our stockings from the shower curtain rod.  It was quite an adventure.  My sister and I remember it even to this day.

There is an important piece of information.  We never lived near family – except for about five years from when I was 6 until I was almost 12.  And even then, my mom’s family was in Canada – and my dad’s extended family was still in the states – in Iowa.  We moved a lot when I was a child, so I wasn’t truly attached to whatever house we were living in at the time.  It made it very easy to pack up for Christmas and head out.

At this point, I now live with my husband and children in a town that is pretty far away from most of my relatives.  When I head out to spend time in Grand Rapids – the place itself has little or no significance except it is where my parents live.   I don’t have special memories of the place from my childhood.  But I love to go.

As an adult I now understand something very important.  Home for me has nothing to do with a place.  Home has everything to do with people.  On the holidays I long to feel the warmth, not from my own bed, or from the glow in my fireplace.  No, I long to feel the warmth of love from friends and family.  I look forward to feeling its embrace like a snuggly blanket .

Twenty four hours from now, we’ll be pretty close to our destination, far, far away from our house.  And still, I’ll be home for the holidays!

And now, I’d better finish up packing – its 12 hours until our departure!

Merry Christmas!

md

(written December 17, 2009)