Birthday thoughts

It's a beautiful birthday morning.  The birds are singing and the sun is up, the house even quiet for this moment.  I read in Isaiah and Romans 11 today--passages that get sent to my email inbox to keep me on track.  Romans 11 is an incredible passage, with thoughts far beyond what I can understand.  I appreciate that Paul--who clearly understands what he's saying far better than I do--can only end with doxology, as his study of God's unsearchable ways leads him to worship.  That is the only place we can go as we read Romans 11.  I mean, you could head down a path of unending questions or even "that's not fair," the lump of clay shaking its fist at the universe.  But worship is so much more beautiful, more elegant, truer.  God made it all.  He will accomplish his purposes.  Nothing can stand it his way.  And I get to call him Abba.  And not only that, his character is completely trustworthy, so I can trust him with my deepest and most troubling questions.  And that, too, leads me to worship.

Tim preached a really great sermon on Sunday, both morning and evening.  In the morning he talked about Psalm 130, and reminded us that the heights of our worship is determined by the depth of our awareness of our own sin.  Those who have been forgiven much and know they have been forgiven much are much more easily lost in wonder, love and praise than those who figure they're doing pretty well.  Of course they are.  I want to spend today aware of my own sin and grateful beyond words for God's grace through Christ toward me.  Rather than focusing on my goals and my thoughts for the year, I would really like to simply reflect on the Cross, and know Christ better.  Have the eyes of my heart enlightened, that I may know the hope of my calling, the riches of my inheritance in Jesus, and the power at work in my life.  Lord, let the power of the resurrection be evident in my life this year. 

I am off to Nashville with Joel this morning, combining the PCA's General Assembly with a little birthday getaway.  We don't need to be there until 7 tonight, where we will get to engage in worship with brothers and sisters in ministry from all over the country and the world.  What better way to celebrate one's birthday?!  I can't wait.  Before that we may try one of the little wineries between here and there, or check out some of the sights in Nashville.  It's an open day.  The kids will be with Bob and Lisa, and Lily especially has been talking for two weeks about her sleepover.  She can't wait.  I hope it all goes as smoothly as it promises.  Last night Lily told me that she needs to have her sleepover for two days, just like with the McElhaneys.  Lily had never known such fun as sleeping in the big girls' room.  Lily is convinced that she and Jack will be sharing a room and having a big ole time, which they may well do.  I can't wait to hear all about their adventure, and pray for my dear Bob and Lisa with a grateful heart that they love our children so.

It's seven now, and the house is still quiet.  What a birthday gift, to have a few uninterrupted moments.  I receive it with joy, and am ready to begin the day.  God is kind and gracious.

Early morning train

Lily has been up since 6:20, so I guess a half hour in her room being quiet is as much as I can expect.  But I'm not sure why she is standing in the hall making train whistle noises.  I suspect it has something to do with Jack being awake.  Lily generally takes it upon herself to go in and entertain Jack when he wakes up.  At least she now asks for permission; I could hear her peeking her head out of the hall door, talking to Daddy.  On this particular morning, Jack doesn't want Lily and her books and toys....he wants Daddy.  And Daddy will come.  And the morning begins.

At least it's not 6:15.

Short of suffering

Romans 5:1-5:  "Therefore, since we have been justified through faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have gained access by faith into this grace in which we now stand. And we rejoice in the hope of the glory of God. Not only so, but we also rejoice in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; perseverance, character; and character, hope. And hope does not disappoint us, because God has poured out his love into our hearts by the Holy Spirit, whom he has given us."

Justified.  Peace with God through Jesus. Access by faith into this grace in which we stand through Jesus. Rejoicing on the hope of God's glory.  Rejoicing in sufferings.  Suffering produces perseverance.  Perseverance produces character.  Character produces hope.  And this hope doesn't let us down, because we are filled with God's love through the Holy Spirit.


What a passage.  Sometimes I feel like Romans is so full of God's promises and plan and blessings that it is difficult to read; it's easy to miss some essential truth because it's so packed and so familiar.  For example, I am drawn to the focus of our suffering: the hope of God's glory. I think we often read this passage and assume the the suffering which forms our character and gives us hope is providing hope of something better or easier for us.  But the hope that does not disappoint is hope in God's glory, because it is assured.  God will be glorify.  Somehow, our suffering hones us but also finds its ultimate meaning in God's glory.  Sometimes I wonder what that will look like, when we are finished and look back over the pages of history.  How will the suffering of God's people hold a mirror up to God's glory?


It seems to me that while I may suffer from time to time, it is more often  that I face annoyance.  Irritation.  Inconvenience.  Sometimes I react worse to these than I do to real suffering.  I wonder why that is.  I mean, I know that real suffering hones my character and produces the hope of God's glory.  But what about when Lily goes in to play trains with Jack at 6:15 a.m.?  When things fall on the ground or the coffee spills or the dryer stops working?  It's so easy to become annoyed or frustrated or easily angered by daily disruptions.  So my question this morning is, Is there any way that these annoyances can shape me?  God, can you use them?

Is there any use in sufferings that fall short of real suffering?


I guess James 1:2-5 relates to this question:  ^"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. If any of you lacks wisdom, he should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to him."  I still have to believe that James is talking about something much more difficult than what I deal with on a day-to-day basis, but I suppose the things that bother me can fall under "trials of many kinds."  Because even the little things test my faith.  Not faith that Jesus has saved me, or faith that I am redeemed by grace, but maybe my faith that God really does have a plan and purpose for every part of my life.  If I am quick to anger, is it not because some part of me doesn't really trust God?  If I am easily frustrated, is it not because I am relying on my own power, and not seeking the peace and quiet heart of abiding in Christ?  The irritations of life are one of the most useful schools of spiritual formation, if I will simply turn my eyes toward Christ.

Our hearts are idol factories, and so often the things that make us the most irritated and angry reveal our idols.  So, as I go through today, I pray I will have eyes to see my own idols, and a heart that trusts Christ in all things. 

Saturday

It's not really a quiet morning. The dishwasher is going, I can hear Caillou downstairs, and Joel is listening to coverage on the awesome Laker win. All good things, though, and we are having a very pleasant morning. Early, but good. I have two very early risers, and this morning they were both up by 6:15. I am usually up by that time, but I'm still recovering from four hours of sleep after staying up to watch the Laker victory on Thursday night. (Well worth it, by the way.) Anyway, I could hear Lily go in Jack's room; she loves bringing him toys when he wakes up. Joel changed Jack's diaper, and the two little buddies were off and running.

I love hearing their conversations, especially when they are playing. Lily said, "Let's play dominoes!" which to her means rolling dice or counting the dots. They both love the set of dice I gave them to use for counting. They love yelling "fluffy bunny", which comes from one of their Usborn books. I see them developing their own little world together, and it makes me very happy.

Last night Lily said she wanted another Jack, and then three Jacks and three Lilies. She likes the number three because she is three, and insists that she gets three stories (at least), or three toys, or three blankets, because she's three. Well, of course.

Quiet Sunday

The sun is up, and it is already warm. We're in for another hot day. But it is pleasant to be awake in this early part of the morning.

This morning I finished off my preparations for our Sunday School class. I really enjoy teaching the career class--an eclectic group, different places in life, thoughtful discussion, good questions. Our study of Ruth followed a study of Ephesians, and I think we will move to Acts next. This morning I was reflecting on the people in Christ's genealogy; he could have chosen any family line, and his is peopled with sinners and outsiders. What great comfort there is in the fact that this is Jesus' clear choice. Tamars and Rahabs and Ruths and Bathshebas--he brings them together as his grandmothers. The fact that Rahab is Boaz' mother stood out to me this morning, too; no wonder he was so compassionate to the outsider Ruth.

The children slept through the night and until now; I hear Jack calling now. I wonder whether Lily will go in an entertain him until "Mr. Sun comes up." That is their usual routine; Lily must stay in her room until her Mr. Moon nightlight turns from blue to yellow, and becomes Mr. Sun. But if she wants to go in an entertain Jack if he's stirring, she may. She loves to fill his crib with toys and books, and sometimes "reads" to him or sings the ABC song with him. While I never want her to feel that she is in charge of Jack, I love that she desires so genuinely to help him.

Yesterday was a thorough housecleaning day, and my little study is finally free from miscellaneous papers and clutter. I hate clutter, yet I can tune it out when I am overwhelmed by the other activities of life. Yesterday I attacked it, and I must say that it is encouraging to be able to get everything set back right in one day. Makes me feel like less of a candidate for the show Hoarders.

Lily has run in calling, "I am the rescuer!" and would like me to go get Jack. I shall. Another good Sunday.

I'll help him!

Lily was up by 6:15, her little light on, when I got up to check on Jack. He was calling for Mommy, but Lily met me in the hall. "I'll help him!" she urged, patting her chest. "I can do it!"

I knew that if I went in Jack's room, he would want to get up, even though he's cranky if he gets up that early. So, I figured I'd give Lily a shot. She loves going into Jack's room in the morning or when naps are winding down, and will fill his crib with books and cars and toys.

I heard her go in and greet Jack, and then she started to read to him. She gave him books, pointed out letters, they both sang the ABC song. This went on for about 15 minutes. It was pretty amazing to listen to them playing together. Lily loves her brother, and Jack is generally thrilled to see Lily. Such a sweet little friendship.

Asheville

We just returned from a spontaneous trip to Asheville, were we spend a couple of days with Brennen and Sheila and their three amazing kids. I've known Sarah, Ryan and Katie since they were born, and spent lots of time with them when they were little. Indeed, when they were the age that my kids are now. Kate was named after me, and I was in the delivery room when she was born and peered up at us with one eye open. They were all in my wedding, looking perfect and beautiful and precious, executing their duties with our other then-little friend Madeline. Now they are so big; Sarah is 14, smart, pretty, taking college classes and blowing everyone out of the water. Ryan is funny and charming, the entrepreneur we all saw coming when he was four. And Miss Kate is her very own person, thoughtful and adventurous and everything great about being ten.

Now they are big enough to watch my kids, and they do as if Lily and Jack were their beloved little cousins. Sarah even volunteered to head up babysitting them so that Joel and I could go on a double date with Brennen and Sheila last night. It was perfect. The kids went down without a fuss, and we had a great time discovering a fun Cuban place and exploring downtown Asheville. It's a whole new era.

There is something about being around people who really know you and love you that is very refreshing. They are a piece of home.

The Kiddie Pool

The kids are playing in the kiddie pool, and it feels a bit like an oasis in the backyard. Let me paint a picture. We have created a kid zone in the flattest part of the yard; it consists of a wonderful molded plastic climbing set with a little clubhouse and slide. Behind that is one of those classic turtle sandboxes, and to the fun we have now added last year's kiddie pool. It is now quite filled with a few inches of water, three dump trucks, two buckets, and a shovel. Oh, and two preschoolers. We are in the shade of eight or nine tall trees--oaks, hickory, pine. The sun is warm behind occasional clouds, and the breeze from a stirring thunderstorm feels perfect.

Lily is offering a running storyline to go with their playtime. ("And she had to take a bath. So Lily hopped into her favorite truck. It didn't want to be in the water.") Only apparently it did, because then it gets all dirty, and gets washed in the kiddie pool.

Lily just asked why it's called a kiddie pool. Apparently I am pronouncing it "kitty pool," because she pointed out that she and Jack are people. Point taken.

Jack runs over to me (positioned a safe distance from the splashing) every few moments to tell me it's fun. He is my sweet boy who likes to check in. I hope that's still true, on a less moment-by-moment basis, when he's grown!

I hear thunder approaching, though the birds are singing and it's still sunny and very warm. I suppose we will need to go in soon. I am really enjoying this moment, though. As a friend said last week, water is a wonderful babysitter. :) My kids certainly love to play, and love having no restrictions on their splashing.

Rain

I'm kicking off this new blog with two posts in one day. I heard a faint patter, and there it is--rain. I like seeing my lilies outside soaking it up.  Rain means I don't have to lug the hose all over the back yard...though I must say, I don't mind watering.  There is something about seeing the soil grow dark as I turn the hose on it, knowing that I'm helping those little plants with the great, dinner-plate leaves to get what they need.  With parenting, I often second-guess myself.  Plants are easy.  You put seeds in the ground, you give them some water, you see what comes up.

Well, that's my method of planting. This is the least organized garden ever. It does have rows. But what's in them? Good question. The onions are easy; the squash blossoms and pumpkin blossoms gave those plants away. The corn is easy to identify. But the rest? Might be carrots, might be cantaloupe. Who knows?

Miss Annette, my neighbor, would know. She knows everything about gardens. She couple probably tell what's weeds and what's carrots.

But I'm content to wait and see. Adds to the mystery.

A Tuesday

The sun is just starting to rise, and the birds provide a cheerful chorus outside.  Candles are glowing, and the house is quiet.  I read a chapter in Ecclesiastes and one in Acts today, delivered straight to my inbox by a website that makes it easy to read.  One passage on meaninglessness, and one on Paul in prison.  An interesting contrast.

I hear doors banging in the hall.  Lily has been up for nearly half an hour; I think she would get up at 6 if I let her.  I wonder if it will be easier when she gets a little older.  It's hard for a three-year old to turn on her light and play quietly first thing in the morning, though she does a pretty good job.  I tell her that Mama needs to spend time with God, and sometimes she will cheerfully curl up with books until her nightlight shifts from Mr. Moon to Mr. Sun at 7:00.  

I have never been an early riser, but I need this solitude.  I need time to reflect on Scripture and remember that I'm raising children who belong to the Lord.  It becomes almost a prayer: these are covenant children.  These are your children.  And it helps a great deal in those moments when my own patience has worn thin.  I simply don't have within me what it takes to raise these children.  They demand far more than I have--not just than what I have for them, but what I have period.  And indeed, their needs can only be fully met by a transcendent God of all comfort and peace and love.  So, it's a good think that they belong to him, and then to me.  I can shepherd them, but I am not their be-all and end-all.

And that's a good thing.

We have the same be-all and end-all, and that is enough.