They are on a plane over the Atlantic somewhere right now. Our french family is returning home. I took some photos on their last weekend with us – and I thought I’d share just a few of my favorites this morning… instead of giving in to tears.
Category: friends and loved ones
life with my loved ones
walking the bridge…
We took them to my favorite spot in the city. the Walnut St. Bridge. Michael’s french cousins (in case you’ve missed earlier posts) are visiting from France – and we’ve been giving them a taste of Chattanooga. Personally, I love the bridge – walking across the water. And, we went on the perfect evening. Oh, it was pretty hot, but the humidity was low and the breeze made it just lovely. We did make a stop at Rembrandt’s for coffee and dessert and pretzels bigger than your head… Mmmmm
The photos are truly an illustration of what’s been going on – a symbol of meeting in the middle. Here we are. cousins. from two completely different walks of life. initially strangers. and now, meeting, learning, growing – enjoying a little bit of life together. here on this bridge.
in case you were wondering…
The whole situation was like a vast territory that needed exploration. There were no maps. No instructions. Many unknowns. It was absolutely impossible to imagine what it would be like… being around family members I didn’t know, some of whom don’t speak English. Living life. Communicating. Eating meals together. Learning about one another…
What an adventure. Until last week it loomed in our hearts and minds without explanation or understanding… But after this first week we have made a few memories, shared new experiences and learned a lot.
I thought I’d share a few of my favorite photos of this week’s family expedition in progress…
(unfortunately, I can’t seem to add explanations in between the photos- so you’ll just have to use your imaginations…)
love the shoes, baby!
We sat there in her room this morning at an im-pass. One of us was going to cave, I could feel it coming. But, I couldn’t wait any longer or we would be late. And so, against my better judgement I let my two year old pick out what shoes she would wear.
And what did she choose to wear on her feet to the aquarium this fine hot summer day? Her paten leather cordovan mary janes. Yep – her winter “Sunday” shoes. I did not feel they were the best selection to accompany her cute little aqua and pink knit-sportswear outfit from Old Navy. Typically I let her wear what she wants at home, or to grandmama’s house. But when we’re going out in public, I am the one who makes the wardrobe decisions. However, I’m finding it harder and harder to hold the line. She is two, but seems to think she is the ultimate fashionista. I cringe at a lot of her choices.
After all, it is important how she looks, isn’t it? I mean it is a reflection of me as a mother. Or at least that is how it feels some times. If I don’t dress my children well, if their appearance is out of sorts doesn’t that mean I’m that kind of mama? And then what will people think?
I’ve thought about it a lot today and I’ve come to realize something again, for the one millionth time – but it bears repeating. I need the benefit of letting it sink in one more time. Here it is : I care too much about what people think and too little about what my Heavenly Father thinks.
As his daughter, when it comes to my household’s fashion sense, or the status of my physical appearance, I don’t think He’s too worried. Others may be worried – it may affect my earthly reputation with some peers here on this earth – but He is not concerned. Certainly His care for me does not depend on what I pulled out of the closet today.
I know this is true because He loved me first. He pursued me – and with His love persuaded me to love Him – in spite of my imperfections. I was far from “qualified” to be His child, on so many levels, not just because of my appearance. But, these words in Scripture from 1John 4: 18-19 remind me of the truth.
There is no fear in love; but perfect love casts out fear, because fear involves torment. But he who fears has not been made perfect in love. We love Him, because He first loved us.
Does it mean I don’t continue to bear His fruit, or walk in His ways, or receive the work He is doing in my life? No. It just means I am free of the fear. Fear of man. Fear that He will not love me if… Even more, it means I am at liberty to be the woman He has made me, and the Mama my children need me to be. And in this case, it means I can love the shoes my baby girl loves to wear, no matter which ones she picks.
Cleaning House
I have a terrible secret. The time has come. I can’t hold it in any longer – I must confess it.
I do not like cleaning my house.
Its unfortunate because I like a clean house. I don’t enjoy stepping in sticky places in front of my fridge. I want to crawl into a well made bed at night. I’m irritated when I step on a gold fish and the crumbs stick in my socks for the rest of the day. And I want the dishes to be done, not left in the sink. I just don’t enjoy what it takes to accomplish it.
Overall, I do keep a fairly clean home. But I can’t say the chores are always done with a smile on my face or a glowing heart. It’s not that I didn’t have a good example growing up. My mother’s house was spotless. ALWAYS. She worked on weekdays, we cleaned on Saturdays. But there was never a question ; Should I leave this dish on the table, or on the kitchen counter instead of loading it into the dishwasher? Absolutely not. Should I make my bed? Definitely. I appreciate these habits my mom instilled in us.
Let me share a true story about my cleaning habits…
Yesterday evening my husband arrived home. He brought with him the cash for our weekly grocery budget. I was extremely excited because Thanksgiving is next week and since I love to cook and bake around the holidays I had a lot planned for that cash. As I began counting the bills, it wasn’t all there. I looked at him and said, a bit demanding, “Where’s the rest? I need all of it!” He said, “They were collecting funds for a needy family, so I threw forty dollars in the pot.” I had no response, but I was thinking, “How could you give away $40?” I could feel him looking at me.
His stare was like a bright light, illuminating a dark corner of my heart. There, in the ‘way back’ of my heart, selflessness had given way to ugly cobwebs – threads of selfishness woven together with materialism. I hadn’t been doing my cleaning and it was obvious.
A thought crossed my mind – why am I so concerned with my elaborate dinner and my holiday baking that I would be willing to let someone else go without a meal.
Normally, I long to have a generous heart- even if it means sacrifice. However without diligence, these holy desires can fade and new, self seeking ones appear. No doubt – immediate cleaning was in order. So I found a quiet spot, and I prayed for God to clear out those cobwebs. It wasn’t the first time, I’m sure it won’t be the last.
“Create in me a clean heart oh God and renew a right spirit within me. Restore to me the joy of my salvation.”
Within moments I knew, forgiveness was mine. Joy welled up inside at the thought of someone else enjoying their Thanksgiving at our expense. Its a true story. And now, I’ve got work to do. The cleaning is calling my name; its Saturday…
(originally written November 22, 2009)
The Sacrifice
I have a precious son – his name is Isaac. He is a pride and joy to me and Michael. With his strawberry blonde hair and dark brown eyes, he is spunky and loving. At three and a half he looks at me and melts my heart with sincere words, “I wuv you mommy.” There is nothing like the love between a mother and her son.
Recently a friend and I briefly discussed a Bible story. The implications of it have weighed on me for days now. When I think of it, a lump the size of a grapefruit rises in my throat and it cannot be swallowed away. Its the story from 1 Samuel 1. I’m sure you’ve heard it before.
Tonight I went back and re-read it to be sure that I remembered it right. I was hopeful that it wasn’t the scenario I recalled from my childhood sunday school days. But, my memory is as sharp as a tack.
Hannah, prayed to God and made a promise. She begged Him for a son and vowed that if she was given a son, she would give him back to the Lord for his service. Long story short: it happened and she did.
For any mother, this story at face value seems absurd, not to be irreverent of Scripture. I read this story and I try to put myself in Hannah’s spot. What would I have done in her situation? Let me tell you.
I would have tried to follow through. Possibly, I would have packed up my sweet boy, with his clothes and blanket, a few of his favorite toys, his pull-ups (because even now he can’t seem to grasp the potty concept…), some other necessities and we would have headed out for Eli’s place. When we arrived, I would have looked around and began to doubt. This bedroom doesn’t feel right for my little guy. Eli sure is old; he doesn’t seem capable to take care of my darling. What about those sons of Eli? They look a little rough – and their reputation precedes them. What if they are mean to my precious son? And within hours of our arrival, I would have loaded up and headed back home.
Because that’s how I am. I have no idea how to sacrifice. How many times have I tried to “strike a deal” with God – but don’t follow with my end of the bargain? “Please God, if you’ll just __________, then I promise I’ll _____________!” These are deep and dark places in my own heart that I avoid. It is so hard to admit : I am unwilling to give up anything precious to me in return to the one who gave everything for me.
But He is gentle with me. He knows me, in my humanity, and He loves me. He has a way of letting me know where He wants me to acknowledge His ownership. For me it begins with my children. In my head I know these precious souls are His, I am just their earthly guardian for a short time. However, my heart screams out regularly in disagreement. Its a daily surrender for me – a letting go that has to take place minute by minute. My Heavenly Father patiently continues this work, as painful as it is.
My sweet Isaac has no idea that he is a conduit for God’s work in my heart. Someday I hope to share with him how he helped me become more like Jesus. In the meantime I’ll read the story again – maybe, in the future I’ll be able to imagine my ending to the story differently so that It will turn out more like this:
Samuel 1: 25 – 28
…they brought the boy to Eli, and she said to him, “As surely as you live, my lord, I am the woman who stood here beside you praying to the LORD. I prayed for this child, and the LORD has granted me what I asked of him. So now I give him to the LORD. For his whole life he will be given over to the LORD.”
md
(written january 10, 2010)
fireworks hopes and hot dog dreams
My children sat staring out the living room window, watching the Friday afternoon rain. Disappointment flooded our home with tears and words of frustration. “Why is it raining? ” Emily cried. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week.” And she had. We all had.
My heart sank along with our hopes and dreams for a bit of fun…
Friday night we were scheduled to go to the Lookouts’ baseball game, but it was more special than that. We were supposed to use Unum’s box seats – one of the fun perks from Michael’s job with Unum. And – there were fireworks on the calendar. Not to mention there were hot dogs to be eaten, which I personally love, but only at a ball game. Our whole family had been looking forward to the fun.
While Emily and Isaac sat on the couch, watching the droplets run down the window pane, I went back to my room. And I began to pray as any praying mother would do. I told the Lord that my children were so frustrated and that they really needed to go to this baseball game tonight, could He please just blow these clouds of rain on through to North Carolina or something?
And He did.
The storm moved on through and we went to the game. It was slightly overcast, breezy and a cool 72. Usually when we go to the Lookouts games it is hot, in the 90’s and sticky, with so much humidity that we don’t manage to stay to the end of the game. This time we made it all the way to the end of the game and watched the winning pitch. Yes, miracle of miracles – the Lookouts won, much to my daughter’s pleasure.
As we sat in our box seats, our tummies full of popcorn, peanuts and hotdogs, the fireworks that we had been anticipating began to explode. I took just a few moments to reflect as they popped and sizzled. Bombastically they were proclaiming God’s greatness to me again, in a new and refreshing way. These fireworks were a picture of His love for me – bold, bright and larger than life.
God, my Heavenly Father, in His great love and mercy had allowed the rain; the cool front that it brought eventually created the perfect evening for our family. Even when we thought all was lost, He was orchestrating His plan for our very best. Circumstances do not control His ways – Each tiny detail of my life is subject to His will and His direction. Friday night, He knew that our family needed to experience His love and affection, at a great ball game, eating a few hotdogs, and watching some beautiful fireworks. I thought it was just for my children – but it was truly a wonderful evening that all five of us needed.
How many times will I need Him to demonstrate His love for me? Again and again, until eternity begins. Thankfully, He is prepared to love me forever. It is this reality that keeps all of the hopes and dreams, for me and my little family afloat.
Here are words from the middle verse of one of my favorite worship songs:
Oh how great Thy loving kindness, vaster, broader than the sea.
Oh, how marvelous Thy goodness lavished all on me.
Yes, I rest in Thee, Beloved, know what wealth of grace is Thine,
Know Thy certainty of promise and have made it mine.
Jesus, I am resting, resting in the joy of what Thou art,
I am finding out the greatness of Thy loving heart.
Good Night, Sleep Tight…
(originally written february 19, 2010)
I have a vivid memory from my childhood. Its front and center, like it could have happened last night. Its evening – my sister and I are pajama clad, teeth brushed, cuddled up in our beds – waiting. The master of ceremonies if you will has yet to arrive and perform our bedtime routine. Finally my dad arrives for kisses, hugs and prayers. My sister says – “Snuggle me daddy.” And he does – he kneels down beside the bed and holds her close. He gets up to leave and I call out, “Daddy, snuggle me too!” And as he kneels down and puts his arms around me, he’s barely hit his knees when I say, “Okay daddy that’s good. I’m done now.”
It was just last night.
Since then we have relived that moment, my dad and I. And we chuckle over it. I’m not a snuggly person at all, really. I’m hot, I’m bothered, I’m distracted. I just don’t have it in me. And that’s what makes what I’m about to share a bit unusual.
I’m a mom now – I’m the one giving out kisses, hugging necks and snuggling my children before bed. And I rarely say no when asked – even if we’re on the third round of snuggles, I can always find a reason for one more when they ask. And I can’t tell you how often I push away the thought that all too soon my children will no longer make these requests.
But it happened. My sweet Isaac was ready for bed. I went in for good nights and he said it. As I hugged him, his words were, even at age 3, were swift and to the point. “Okay mommy, that’s good. thank you. night night.” That’s it? Yep – he was done. I left slightly deflated. And I did not chuckle. not at all.
I’m so sorry dad. I had no idea until tonight.
None of this changes the fact that I will give out, without question, any hugs, or kisses or snuggles to my children on request. Because I love them.
I find it comforting to know that in spite of how often I push my Heavenly Father away, he doesn’t leave. He is there to hold me in life’s up and downs – and He loves me without reservation. He is a far better parent than I could ever be – with unlimited affection just for me.
Matthew 7:11 – If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!
I hadn’t thought about this verse from this perspective before. I love you, My heavenly Father. Thank you for snuggling me a bit longer tonight. I really needed it. Good night.
md
just one thing, mom, just one…
This is the dinner time mantra chanted by my little boy, Isaac. “I just want one thing, mommy, just one!” He’s not specific about what he wants. But, he’s confident of this: there should be only one item on his plate. He can make it through dinner if he only has to focus on one food.
Now, I am a good cook. I’m not boasting or anything, I just do pretty well in the kitchen. So, in my head it doesn’t make sense. He should be able to enjoy whatever I’m putting on his plate. I try to make it healthy and balanced, veggies, meats; a variety of yummy things. The process of mealtime shouldn’t be so daunting, but it is for him.
In my mind I don’t understand his request for “just one thing….”
But my heart doesn’t blame him one little bit. I find myself making the same request. Recently, I have found myself amid different trials… all at once. I won’t go into details here, but complications have come up. Things aren’t going quite the way I planned. Some are big and seem life changing, some are little, the result minute ; altogether they add up to overwhelming frustration and confusion. Peace is nowhere to be found.
And I said to my Heavenly Father: “Why can’t we just do these one at a time? I can trust You much more easily, when it is one thing at a time.”
But He spoke to my heart and said, “My grace is sufficient in your weakness… If trusting me is easy for you to do “one thing at a time”, you aren’t weak… and that means you aren’t applying my grace to your heart. I don’t want you to overcome on your own. I want you to experience the joy of my salvation: the widespread, fully consuming relief that comes with my provision and my mercy.”
The scripture memory work I’ve started this summer with a friend, is old to me, but brand new as I think about it… It’s plural. Not just one…
James 1: 2-4
2 My brethren, count it all joy when you fall into various trials, 3 knowing that the testing of your faith produces patience. 4 But let patience have itsperfect work, that you may be perfect and complete, lacking nothing.
If I truly desire to be more like Him, I’m going to have to do it on His plan. I can’t request for Him to mold me as He chooses, and then ask for Him to do it my way, “one thing at a time.” He knows how to prepare what is very best for me. The good news is: His will is to produce patience through faith. and He has promised to be my strength in the middle of weakness.
Then, and only then, will I experience the promise from 2 Corinthians 12:9-10
9 And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me.10 Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong.”
Heavenly Father, No matter what you serve up, let me focus on you, rather than my plate. Help me to draw on the strength that You supply. I don’t want to be self-sufficient – I want to find all that I need in You. Thank you for the trials and for drawing me close, even when I’m asking you for the opposite. amen.
And, as I say to my sweet little boy at dinner, “one is just not enough…” I hope the two of us can learn this truth together!
the new riding mower
Time is not on my side. This is the reality that has settled in since Sunday afternoon. It is not my friend – there will be no alliances formed. What brought this to my attention? It was the riding lawn mower.
My father-in-law recently purchased a brand new (to him) beautiful bright orange Husqvarna mower. We spent Sunday afternoon with them recently and he brought it out to show us. And he said the words I dreaded hearing, “Emily, would you like to drive?”
Say what?
And it happened. Instructions were given, she hopped up eagerly into the driver’s seat and was off – maneuvering around the yard, with a big grin across her face. However, I had to work up a smile. I managed to snap a few pictures, all the while feeling just a bit light headed.
My oldest, still my baby, was driving. Let’s be clear : she will always be my baby.
But, watching her, sitting proudly, steering the mower, I realized something. She is not little anymore. She is a budding, beautiful, young lady, almost 10 years old. I don’t think it had really dawned on me this way before.
ALMOST TEN YEARS OLD.
Where has the time gone? I just don’t know. Honestly. I feel like she was just born a few months ago. I like to think that I have used the hours and days wisely that the Heavenly Father has given us – but when moments of this magnitude sink in, I begin to wonder. Have I done what I need to do? More importantly, have I, as Emily’s mother, done what He wants me to do?
These questions have brought me to a new place. I know there is limited time left – none to waste. And so, I’ve been asking Him even more pertinent questions. Lord, what do you want me to do as Emily’s mother? How can I fulfill this calling? All that I have heard Him whisper in my ears is this: “Teach her to love me. Show her how to do what is right.”
Oh, is that all?
Well, that seems like an impossible task to me. But, through the power of the Holy Spirit, and the fruit that He is growing in my own life, it is not totally a loss. As I live my life in front of her, it is my prayer that she will see how to follow Him. I don’t even remotely think I’m good at it – but it is a day by day consistent persevering.
Ecclesiastes 3: 11-12 says something encouraging for my heart today:
11 He has made everything beautiful in its time. Also He has put eternity in their hearts, except that no one can find out the work that God does from beginning to end. 12 I know that nothing is better for them than to rejoice, and to do good in their lives,
As I use each day, one at a time, I know that I can not lose time because He has ordained my days with this precious girl. I can be sure that as I continue in love, just being her mama- we will have just the right amount of days and weeks together. Time may not be on my side, but thankfully the God of this Universe is!
It is my prayer that she will be beautiful in His time. and, I believe it’s happening, even if it’s when she’s riding a lawn mower!
daily portion 