Sitting here

a bare, hard floor

The only light

The yellow glow from the hallway

And the earnest efforts of the moon.

All blurred by my unexpected and unrelenting tears.

This was always a bright room.

It embraced the sunlight.

Its four walls seemed to delight in their task of holding precious little ones.

It was the most cheerful room.

Now. It is silent.

But I hear many things:

The sounds of such precious years

Laughter.

Oh the laughter of sweet small voices.

The giggles as we made tents, or tickled, or played peek-a-boo, or danced…

Stories.

Read over and over again.

And then retold from the memory of a little boy.

Songs.

We sung so many songs.

The sweet simple songs of Jesus that you would sing along to.

Over and over I sang you hymns to get you to sleep.

And of course there was “I’ll love you forever. I’ll like you for always. As long as I’m living my babies you’ll be.”

Tears.

Many many tears.

Tears that well up and overcome me in moments like these - when I try to store up every single memory I can and treasure the incomprehensible gift of motherhood.

Tears of a distraught baby - hungry or cold, tired or scared - ones that had me up and running to meet the need and gently wrap you in my arms.

Tears of a distraught mother - brought to her knees in frustration, or worry, or simply not knowing the answer.

Prayers.

Oh, the prayers.

I am so glad there were prayers.

Prayers of that same distraught mother crying out to her all-knowing, trustworthy, loving God for help

Prayers of praise over these sweet children she was given.

Prayers entrusting those sweet children to a mighty God - for their salvation, for their character, for their protection, for their futures, for everything a mother hoped they would be.

Prayers of thanks from a dear little boy who learned to pray here:

“Thank you for Jesus can love us.”

And even where a baby girl said her first “amen” as her mommy prayed over her in her crib.

I think the prayers make this room the most special.

I hear questions asked, and “good night’s”, and “I love you’s”, and Bible stories, and conversations during nap time between a one-year-old and three-year-old…

This was a precious place.

So as I’m hear one last time I pray one more time

And I thank the Lord for providing for blessing for watching over for teaching

And I thank Him, because what made this room special is still with me.

And now I can go to a new home and kiss their sweet sleeping faces.

Good bye, Little Room.

Thank you for holding us.

My dear baby girl,

Consider this your first valentine.  A love letter from me to you.   Today you spent the day sick with a terrible cold - a pitiful puddle of coughing and snot after a long night of crying.  Not the best day.  But you know, sometimes that’s just how Valentines goes. Not according to plan. Not the ideal. And that’s OK. Don’t put extravagant expectations on this or on any day, or those who are around you on these days. Instead, aim to give love thoughtfully and joyfully to others every day.

Not that you can’t enjoy this day either. Some Valentines days will be lovely. Eat sweets. Wear red and pink. Make valentines cards. Enjoy it regardless of your age, your relationship status, or how near or far you are from those you love.

And as far as romantic love goes, there are so many things I want to tell you. But for today know these things:

1. Your relationship status has zero bearing on your worth, beauty, and desirability. You are magnificently made by God, and whether you have a date or not does not change that. On those Valentines days (or any days) when you’re “alone”, don’t be down on yourself, or question your value. Instead look to be kind and caring, and love-giving to others, and rest in the love of God that is always enough.

2. There are still good men. Great men, in fact. I know, I married one. Unfortunately our world does a whole lot to tear men down, stumble them, trip them up, or tell them the wrong things about what it means to “be a man”.  And so good men may be rare.  But if the Lord plans to bring you a good man, I’m praying for him and you should too until you meet him.  This means a few things:

      -Don’t give up on the idea of finding your true love, of marriage that lasts and excels, of a truly deep and beautiful relationship.  If this is God’s will for you, He surely will bring this to you in His timing.  Wait for it.  Everything’s always better when done God’s way.

       -Don’t settle for less the great.  Don’t seek the arms of a man who’s not willing to lay down his life for you.  Don’t give your heart to a man whose heart does not fully belong to God.  Don’t spend your time on someone who does not want what is the best for you, love who God made you, and who is not determined to do his very best for you.  

       -Be a great woman.  Be the kind of girl that a great man would long to give everything up for.  Give your heart wholly to your Heavenly Father first.  Live life with vibrancy and bravery.  Serve others with compassion and joy.  Use your gifts, and your beauty, and your intellect to your fullest capacity with humility and wisdom.  Present yourself to everyone with respect and dignity.  Pray hard for those in your life.  Trust the Lord with any and every thing.  

And finally,

3. You are loved more than you will ever know.  You are loved by me.  And you’ll only know the extent of this love if one day you become a mother too.  I never knew love like this was possible.  My heart aches with the swelling weight of this love.  You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met.  I long to see you grow, and live, and love, and succeed, and trust wholeheartedly in the strong arms of God.  I think you’ll never quite know how much I love you.  And my love is but a fraction of the love God has for you.  Love enough to give his own Son to die.  Love that knows every part of your body and soul that He intricately and masterfully created.  Love that waits for you to run to Him with everything you have and all you are.  A love that is too deep, and wide, and long, and great to ever understand.  Never forget that.

Happy Valentines Day, Baby Girl.  

Love, Mom

I had a day earlier this week when, for some reason, everything seemed a little clearer.  Every time I dressed my baby in soft, clean clothes, or wrapped her in a warm blanket, or laid my children down on their cozy beds, or fed them nutritious food, and gave them clean water to drink, or spent time with them, or bathed them, or felt the warmth of our home, or  prayed for my husband working hard to provide for us - I was so aware of what a precious gift these things were.  I felt that each thing was like I was holding gold.  I realized how incredibly rich I am.  To be able to give my children all of these riches is a great honour.  And I was so grateful to the Lord who gave them to me.  And I was aware of children who do not have these things or who do not have someone to give them.  Not because the Lord loves those children any less - certainly not.  His heart loves them (and my children) more than they could ever ask or imagine.  But in a my world of the day-by-day mom stuff that can become so all-encompassing, narrowly-focused, and at times overwhelming He allowed me to see beyond.  Partly, for His praise and glory for the gracious gifts He’s given me.  And partly to remind me to see with His eyes, and pray and care for children (and mothers) who don’t have the sweet gifts of clothing, or food, or home.

One day may come when I do not have all these things.  Does that make the Lord any less good?  Certainly not:

“…for I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances.  I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want.  I can do everything through him who gives me strength.” (Philippians 4:11-13)

And if I lack any or all of these material things one day I can still find reasons to praise the Lord.  For these things will all pass away, but He is my Sustainer, my Provider, my Saviour, and my Strength.  And He is enough.  He is greater than gold.

But for now, I hope I can live in thankfulness, recognizing how rich I am, and using each piece of gold for his glory.

Sometimes when you’re a mom you get no sleep.  And by sometimes, I mean all the time (at least in my experience so far).  Well, you usually get some sleep - just not the amount you used to get, or want to have, or is medically recommended.  And then sometimes you really get no sleep.  Luckily Baby L’s been a bit better than her big brother was, and allows me more sleep than he did.  But she’s a baby.  And babies can’t feed themselves, work out their own gas, turn over, take off a blanket when too hot, and sometimes (my babies, anyways) can’t even fall asleep on their own.  So.  That sucks.  And I have to do it for her.  And last night was one of those nights where she needed a whole bunch of all of that.

Last week I had one of those nights too.  Plus she continued her fussiness all day.  Plus her big brother decided to be way overtired and put up a legendary rebellion against nap time, eating, house rules, and all things “mommy”.  And I had no wits about me (due to lack of sleep) to handle this well. This resulted in all of us crying.  Numerous times.  And a messy house.  And no supper made.  And Daddy coming home early.  (What a good Daddy.  Have I bragged about him lately?  Because he’s AH-mazing.)  Luckily the day was saved.  In thanks to Daddy.  

And also thanks to a dear friend who took me for a smoothie and sat on a sunny park bench with me while we poured out our hearts to each other.  I cried more - but good tears this time.  And I was reminded once again how good it is to have hope.  As we shared with each other we also reminded each other of our Good God who will see us through and provide what we need for today and tomorrow.  We also spent time praying together.  And we moved on - not just having vented raw emotion, but also being encouraged, strengthened, and determined to go forward for His glory.  What a blessing.  And I learned that I will need to be intentional, especially when sleep is sparse, to live for His glory for my children’s benefit.

And today?  As the wee morning hours rolled along towards daybreak and I realized sleep would not be a part of my near future, I braced myself.  I resolved not to flounder in hopeless frustration.  I prayed that God would strengthen me.  Help me think clearly.  Help me look beyond myself.  Help me love my children with patience.  Teach with gentleness.  And focus on what matters.  I knew I needed to intentionally work hard today to be compassionate.

So.  At the end of the day: the house is still a mess.  Sean took us out for supper, because nothing was ready.  The “To-Do” list was not even glanced at.  But I did spend time praying with my children.  I did make time to play.  I did snuggle, and hug, and kiss whenever needed.  I was able to be silly.  I did (endlessly!) hold a tired and sick baby girl.  I did have a dance party with a silly little boy.  They did eat.  They did nap. We did sit in the sunshine.  We did read some books.  And so, I guess today was a success after all.

Now.  Enough blogging.  I’d better get to bed!

My heart is rejoicing.

A quiet, lovely, sweet sort of rejoicing.

Whispers of thanks to a kind God

who always heard

who always saw

who always knew.

And who, in His infinite grace and power

has delivered a long-awaited blessing.

And I can truly say

that a part of this blessing

has been the long waiting.

I have learned more of hope:

How hard it can be to cling to as time passes.

How foolish you can feel while it’s just hope.

How only hope in the Lord is worth the wait.

I have learned more of trust:

How to let go of control

How to let go of my plans.

How the Lord is always trustworthy.

And what I’ve longed for is now not a right I am entitled to,

but truly a gracious, kind, generous gift from the hand of the Lord.

And the waiting has brought Him more glory in my heart.  The waiting has made me more thankful for this gift.  The waiting has refined me and taught me.  And the waiting is drawing to a close.

My heart rejoices in the Lord.

***Note:  I wrote much of this post before what happened in Japan.  It’s been sitting in my “drafts” file” because I haven’t been sure how/when to post it.  But, I think it’s ready now.***

Today I’m thinking about…Suffering.

Yup.  Suffering.  That’s what I’m thinking about.  Awesome, right?  Now, lots of you who follow my blog are really only into the pretty design pictures.  And that’s OK.  Besides, you’ve probably zoomed past this (long) all-text post in your dashboard anyways.  And I figure my blog description on my homepage states that I write about what I like and that I’m not limited to one blogging niche or genre.  So consider yourself disclaimered. ;)

Now I’ll explain why I’m thinking about suffering.  Partly, because I see it all around me.  It’s such a major part of the world.  It’s an integral part of the lives around me.  And God is teaching me a lot about it these days.

I’ve been reading this week in Matthew.  Don’t you love it when you read a passage of scripture that you’ve read so many times and suddenly you learn something or notice something new?  (If this hasn’t happened, pick up a Bible.  Read it.  And keep re-reading it, and it’ll happen.  Trust me.)

In the passage (Matthew 16:21-28) Jesus has just explained to his disciples the suffering he will endure when he goes to the cross.  Peter boldly takes Jesus aside and rebukes him!  (Jesus!)  He says, “Never, Lord! …This shall never happen to you!” 

But you can kinda’ understand where Peter’s coming from.  What Jesus has just said is shocking and difficult to understand.  Peter can’t comprehend that Jesus - this wise, powerful leader who he knows is the Son of God and the long-awaited Messiah (Peter just said so in verse 16) - would suffer such terrible punishment and death.  It makes no sense.  It’s illogical, and frankly, not nice to think about.

Jesus’ reply has always startled me as I read this passage:  

“Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men.”

Really?  Satan?  Wow.  Harsh much, Jesus?

But this week I understood this better.

Peter told Jesus he would not suffer and die.  

How many popular voices in our world today tell us:

…not to focus on sin, just how nice God is.

…God doesn’t want me to be poor, or inconvenienced.

…I don’t have to worry about Hell.  God’s too loving to actually send me there.

Hmm.

If you’re a keen observer of the debated statements above, you’ll probably want to throw a lot of different names into a big long argument *cough*joelosteenkennethcopelandrobbell*cough*cough.  But that’s not what I’m getting at.  There’s nothing new under the sun and those guys aren’t the first, last or only people to believe or preach those messages. And Peter said some pretty dumb stuff and God prevailed in His life, so I don’t want to make this argument about individuals. 

What I do want to say is that only preaching and saying what is all happy-warm-and-fuzzy is not Biblical.  And it’s not true.  And straight up, it’s from Satan.  It is a dangerous wolf clothed to look like a sweet little lamb.  And these messages are out there - and they are popular.  Because they’re palatable.  They sound nicer (on the outside) than saying:

…Our sin matters to God.  It’s a big deal.  He is absolutely holy and cannot tolerate our depravity.  That’s why He did every single thing He could to conquer sin and make a way for us to be saved.

…Sometimes God allows suffering, poverty, tragedy.  Not because He is cruel, and not because He is unaware or weak.  But because it is through that struggle that we are refined, transformed, grown, and recognize just how much we need Him.

…Hell is real.  People will go there.  They don’t have to (if they choose to turn to Christ with their whole hearts).  But it is the place prepared for the punishment of sin.  And we’ve all sinned (Romans 3:23) - so not just the murderin’ types.  And God does not want anyone to go there.  But He is just.  And due justice for sin is punishment in hell.  Your choice.

But why is that warm-and-fuzzy teaching so prevalent today?  People want to hear it.  People are searching for meaning, comfort, and answers, but don’t want to face things like the fact that we’re weak, wicked, or unworthy.  

So these ideas come forward - digestible, easy responses that say “Oh don’t worry, you won’t suffer.”  And what a stumbling block.  If I tell you hell doesn’t exist you might feel better.  Have a few less bad dreams.  But it’s a lie.  The Bible is pretty clear that hell is real.  So that means if you’re making your decision about sin, salvation, eternity based on a lie, you’ve been cruelly deceived, and will be worse off than before.

If I tell you you won’t suffer, or shouldn’t suffer, that’s a lie too.  And when you do face that suffering, what will you do?  How will you cope?  What will you turn to?  

Listen to what the apostle Paul says in 2 Timothy 4:3-5:

“For the time will come when men will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear.  They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths.  But you, keep your head in all situations, endure hardship, do the work of an evangelist, discharge all the duties of your ministry.”

Peter was saying what he, and maybe what he thought Jesus, wanted to hear.  Peter, though undoubtedly well intentioned, was buying into a human way of thinking - that suffering is bad, exists only for punishing the “really bad” people, that it shouldn’t happen to good people.  But Jesus said that Peter did “not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men”.  I think God has a much bigger picture of suffering.  Yes, there are circumstances when suffering is the consequence of sin and poor choices.  But what about breast cancer?  A miscarriage?  Abandonment? The death of a child?  Abuse?  Are these due punishment?  No.  And yet such suffering exists.  Is it because God is cruel?  Certainly not.  In fact, He is the opposite.  I truly believe that such suffering happens because of God’s great love.

Because God loves us he takes us through the fire of refinement.  He grows us and stretches us, and - if we follow Him and trust Him - we emerge shaped by the gracious strong hands of a loving Father that we know better now than we did before the fire.  And he walks through the fire with us.

Had Jesus not suffered on the cross then our forgiveness and restoration to God would not have happened.  Had Jesus not died our death we would still be guilty and condemned.  There was purpose in His suffering - a beautiful, loving, incredible purpose designed by a gracious and mighty God.

Our happiness now is not his objective - our holiness is.  Because holiness will lead to exceedingly great bliss one day in heaven.

So to the voices out there saying that hell isn’t real, that sin’s no big deal, that God wo’t let you suffer… I think we need to speak those same words of Jesus:

“Get behind me, Satan! You are a stumbling block to me; you do not have in mind the things of God, but the things of men.”

Just something to think about.

Ah, Spring.

How is it that one as sweet and mild as you

Holds such strength over my mind and soul?

It is not you that oppresses, but winter’s icy grip.

Yet your meek arrival is what I long for.

A brighter sun teases me that you may be near,

But stagnant snow and wicked cold stubbornly remain.

You always come.  

The snow will retreat one day.

But not knowing when sends me into agony.

And so, I suppose you are a metaphor,

Like much of creation is,

To reflect truth to my spirit.

That longing, and waiting, and agony will one day end.

And until then I will trust and continue on

Not wasting today for what it isn’t.

Yet still,

Come soon, Dear Spring.

The other night Little M slept through the night. (Still a rare and wonderful thing.)  Too bad I was wide awake in the wee morning hours with my brain a’buzzing.  As I often do when I awake in the middle of the night I prayed for whoever popped into my head.  The people I was praying for are all in different situations, but there is a common theme in their stories: they all need hope.

So I began to think about Hope.  I don’t know about you, but the mention of hope makes me think of… a Barack Obama poster.  Sunshine and rainbows.  Fairy dust and daydreams.  While none of these things are completely off base I realized I had a much better, truer image of hope.

Hope is kinda’ like a BIG ole’ reliable farm truck.  With more horsepower than you think you’d need.  With heavy chains and ropes ready to slug it out and pull you from the stickiest, thickest mud you can imagine.  Hope is a big truck, coming just in time, that won’t give up and doesn’t want you to either.

I laid awake and thought of times in my own life when it was hope that pulled me through.  I remembered years ago when my life was in a dark and tough place.  I could see no end, and no change.  It was a wonderful godly woman who spoke into my life that brought hope.  She told me she’d been there.  She told me there were ways I could climb out of it - steps I could choose to take.  She told me there was hope.  And I believed her.  And slowly that big truck pulled me along and I climbed out.

I thought of when Little M was first born and I felt helpless, frustrated, and hopeless.  It was the words of another godly woman who helped me through.  She had also been where I was.  She was realistic about what I could expect.  But she assured me that I could expect it to get better.  And she was right.  And as things slowly changed and got better her words of encouragement and hope dragged me out of that thick sludge of hopelessness.

Hope is powerful if it is founded in truth.  However, without truth hope is empty and a greater danger than hopelessness, I think.

What do you hope for?  Are you hoping at all, or giving up?  What are you placing your hope in today?  Is your hope based on truth?

“Why are you downcast, O my soul? 
   Why so disturbed within me? 
Put your hope in God, 
   for I will yet praise him, 
   my Savior and my God.”

“God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.”

 PSALM 42:5, PSALM 46:1

Little One,

Who will you be?

How is our Creator crafting you inside of me?

If there’s anything I know (from my experience)

It’s that I don’t know anything.

And who you will become

will lead us both on an adventure.

At times I am so scared.

My stomach tied in knots.

There is so much I can fear,

but instead I must pray.

At times I am so excited!

My mind racing with possibilities.

What should we name you?  What colour will your room be?

What will you look like?  What fun we will have together!

At times I wonder how I could possibly do this again.

sickness, sleeplessness, pain,

sleeplessness, selflessness, worry,

humbling, sleeplessness, heartache…

…And did I mention no sleep?

But I have not one doubt

that you will resoundingly prove

that you were worth it all.

And joy will outweigh discomfort.

When I first see your face.

When you peacefully rest in my arms.

When your tiny hands wrap around my finger.

When you smile,

laugh,

roll,

sit,

stand,

walk,

speak

for the first time.  Or the millionth time.

Such moments of joy erase it all.

And you will be worth it.

And I will still fear:

Can I teach you right?

Can I model love well?

Can I point you to the Saviour?

Can I help you become you?

Can I handle your failures with grace and truth?

Can I handle my failures with grace and truth?

Can I help you with your hurts, while helping you brace for the trials of life?

Can I accept your choices, because you are you?

Can I let you go, when the time comes?

Can I pray faithfully enough?

Can I place you in God’s strong hands and trust Him to do the rest?

In the end, all I can do is pray and trust the Lord.  

So this, Little One is my prayer for you:

I pray that wisdom will lead you.

I pray that humility will ground you.

I pray that compassion will move you.

I pray that faith will form you.

I pray that courage will push you forward.

I pray that humour will lift you.

I pray that you will go further than I have ever gone.

And I pray that Jesus will be your Lord.

I love you, Little One.  Grow strong in there, OK?