Dear Good Christian Girl, You Are Believing a Lie

When did you give your heart to Jesus? That's what they say, right? That's how they ask it. 

Well, me, I was four. 

That's what I am told, anyway. 

Four years old, in my best friend's driveway, I told my mom that I wanted to give my heart to Jesus. And so I did. I prayed that prayer-- I don't remember quite how it goes now. 

I have a four year old. 

I'm pretty sure she thinks God looks like Santa and sometimes she tells me that Jesus is in her belly and will come out like a baby at some point, maybe not today because today she is having triplets, but maybe tomorrow.

Are you catching my drift? 

I grew up in church-- many different kinds. I went to a Christian school through 8th grade. I didn't drink until I was 21 (almost), no sex before marriage, I didn't commit any crimes, I didn't do drugs, I moved away from home, went to college and eventually I got married and started to have kids. 

I didn't fall away. I never backslid. 

Good Christian Girl, that's me. 

She may be you, too. 

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This past Sunday at church, we heard the testimony of a man who led a life nothing like mine. He led a life that was (in his words) "filled with fear." He spoke of the power of the Holy Spirit and Jesus' sacrifice with such conviction. 

He had an experience with God that was undeniable. 

I never had that.

Good Christian Girl, you are living a lie. 

Good Christian Girl, you believe because there is no obvious climax in your testimony (do you even have a testimony???) that you are sentenced to a life of mediocrity. 

Think about that. Jesus spits out the lukewarm.

Fire-y christians are the ones with the story. Fire-y christians have a testimony that brings people to tears. 

I admit that I have been guilty of amping up parts of my walk with God to seem like there was a huge turning point. Otherwise, the seemingly small God details of my life could be written off as coincidences.

Christians who believe that coincidences are God-orchestrated events are foolish. 

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Sitting in church on Sunday, I felt a (gentle) punch in my gut. 

"Your life is no coincidence. When did you become so wise?

Those small moments, those small prayers, the moment in the car when you were four--- 

every time you write them off as coincidences, as foolishness, you fall deeper and deeper into the pit of mediocrity. 

You push away from me, you don't give me the honor. 

Your life is FILLED with God moments, but to you they are foolishness.

I love you. 

I want you to see me there, with you, the whole time. Holding you. You are my daughter. 

Recognize me."

Dear Good Christian Girl,

 

“I know all the things you do, and that you have a reputation for being alive—but you are dead. 2Wake up! Strengthen what little remains, for even what is left is almost dead. I find that your actions do not meet the requirements of my God.3Go back to what you heard and believed at first; hold to it firmly. Repent and turn to me again..." Rev 3:1-3

I may not remember the prayer I prayed when I was four, but He does. It may seem foolish to believe a four year old could commit to God-- and maybe she can't. But He can commit to her and 

Good Christian Girl, He has. 

Recognize Him.

A Quick Thought

"Unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Therefore, whoever takes the lowly position of this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

--Jesus

If he says to become like them...


Why are we always trying to make them become more like us?

What is my objective?

This may seem elementary; most everything does after the "light bulb" moment.

But THIS, my friends, seems too easy-- like everyone probably already knows about this incredible mind shift except for me.

So, your welcome, for the reminder-- and maybe the giggle at my expense.

It's late. Bedtime has taken much longer than I expected once again. Every day, I say that we will start bedtime a half hour earlier to make room for the silliness, stalling and inevitable poop that needs to happen as soon as she is covered up. It never happens. We always start too late and so there I am, standing there, stressed, irritated, TIRED.

 I feel like Dr. Leo Martin vs. Bob Wiley. 

Holy smokes. YES. That's exactly how I feel at the end of the day.

 It's just too much. And I hate it. I despise myself in that moment. I have these out of body experiences where I hear what I am saying and see the tension in me and I feel so sad (and pretty pathetic too).

I just want to shake myself!

But in that gross, disgusting moment, when I was watching myself, THAT'S when it hit me. 

Thanks to my Bachelors of Fine Arts... (finally)

 I was watching the scene and I felt the tug. The gentle question -- as my teachers in school asked me so often: 

What's your objective?

BED. Bed is my objective. Cover her up-- no wait, give her a sip of water so that she doesn't get uncovered to get a sip of water. Give her a sip of water, cover her up, move her hair our of her face, give her a kiss and GET THE F OUT! That's my objective! 

Right then, I became present. She was laying down now. She was asking me if I could pray for her-- she was asking me to tell her about what we would do the next day and wanting to help make a plan for the morning. She just wanted to play-- and interact and talk-- and me? 

Moments before, I could hardly keep my head from exploding. 

Instead of standing over her, holding her blanket, forcing myself to breathe deeply, I knelt down and  I asked myself again: What's my objective?  

Connect. My objective has to be to connect. 

My posture seemed to relax and in turn, so did hers. My voice became soothing instead of sharp and threatening-- she became quieter. We discussed some concerns of the night-- feeling hot/cold, needing a bandaid etc. and we smiled about what tomorrow would bring.

I still wanted her in bed (desperately) but when I focused on engaging her, my crazy little beauty, I didn't feel pathetic anymore-- or sad. I felt strong and capable of being the mom I know I can be. 

When I stop with my external objectives and put the focus on the relationships around me-- the atmosphere actually changes.

Harmony happens. Peace. Unforced rhythms of grace.

And bedtime becomes a heck of a lot easier! 

Get me off this thing called... Love

Ha! Sorry, I had to do it.
"So, I Married An Axe Murderer" is one of my all time favorite movies and I just couldn't resist entitling this blog post with a quote from that movie.

I just wish somehow I could add in the little hand gesture. Make sure you do it every time you read the title to this blog post.

Ready? Let's try it together.

"Get me off this thing called....(hand gesture) Love."

(And if you have no idea what the heck I am talking about, do yourself a favor and get that movie!)

So this thing... love. The basis of all relationships and interactions. The one (pure, true) thing that keeps us connected...

 is so dang hard to figure out.

I've been silent for awhile because the ONE thing that keeps popping in my head to blog about is the one thing that confuses me the most. And it's the thing that keeps us going.

It's vital.

Love connects partners. It connects families, friends, siblings... it connects us to movements, to passions, to missions... we see it in nature, in our pets... it is what moves us closer to our Creator.

It is what our Creator IS.

The absence of love brings turmoil, anger, hate, disconnect, confusion. Dark.

But, let's define love for a moment... because I'm not talking about Valentine's day, people!

What I am talking about is respect.

I am talking about a love that works for the greater good of humanity. A love that sees all people, all beings, all the world in the light of the Kingdom: as it should be. I am talking about freedom, choice... about valuing the needs of others around us in the same way we value our own.

Here's an idea, scroll through Facebook for a second, you'll find many people highlighting the need for choice, for freedom, for respect. Many people are raising funds for wonderful causes, advertising their passions and gushing over some of the small glimpses of "hope in humanity."

Love is much bigger than just my marriage, your marriage. It's bigger than just the way we choose to raise our children, the way we cultivate our relationships with our parents and siblings.

But is it?

We all seem to have a deep "want" to see humans live in harmony with each other but our marriages are falling apart. Christians all seem to want the love of Jesus to be spread far and wide, but do their children feel it? We want to accomplish great things, but have we accomplished the seemingly small things?

As I trip and fall and trip and fall down this parenting path, the one thing that remains true is that change starts with me. But not just me, me and them. Me and you.

Did I love them well? Have I loved you well?

That needs to be my question after an argument with my husband, after my daughter takes a crayon to the wall, after I get home from an interview and after a phone call from my brother.

Did I love them well?

No wait, did THEY feel that I loved them well?

THAT'S the thing folks. We can't gauge our own love goodness! 

I guess that's what I have been trying to do forever now. Let me explain.

So, there are these 5 love languages. They are outlined in some popular book. You can even take a test to see what your top two are.

Bah! Love languages!

If you are anything like me, you think this love language stuff is downright discouraging. You immediately think about how you and your husband have completely different love languages and how it's is a daily struggle, I mean, task, ahem, privilege, to learn the ways each other needs to be loved to bring the relationship to new and deeper heights with every successful, loving and selfless interaction.

Honestly, that love language book... makes me gag.

I don't know, I get it, I just don't know if I buy into it... completely anyway. Shouldn't adults be able to show love and receive love in all different ways? Isn't love some sort of universal language? 

Why, then, when I write sweet notes in a journal for my husband he hardly ever writes back?!

Love letters are love letters, surely he can feel the love through them!

Yet, he complains when hugs are cut short, or a busy family day passes by and he doesn't feel as if we've had quality time. Didn't we just spend the whole freaking day together?!

Obviously, I am missing something.

And per usual God speaks to me through my children.

I've noticed in the past, our daughter physically cringing when people (ourselves included) ask for kisses. God forbid, someone try to give her one! She will spit on her hand and wipe it off in one seemingly rude swipe.

This kills her dad. He loves to "smooch her face" and incessantly asks for kisses.

I, on the other hand, totally get it. The only difference is, I wait until people aren't looking before I wipe off the lingering spit and feeling.

At first, I was horrified. Kids learn by example right?! I've tried so hard to suck it up and not let my kids see how uncomfortable I get when people are physically affectionate towards me and I most certainly try never to avoid a kiss from their dad even if he has fallen short (like I never do!) in some spouse-ly duty.

So I just couldn't figure out HOW Judah learned to not like kisses then? 

She not only refuses offers, but she wipes off blind sides too!

Then I realized something: Judah may not like to be hugged, or kissed, and her idea of snuggling is laying next to someone with absolutely no touching involved at all, but she tells us she loves us 1200 times a day. She encourages us when she sees that we are struggling and she compliments our hard work. She thanks us for dinners cooked, outings, help... anything!

While out to lunch one day with her grandparents, one who is particularly affectionate (even though it is usually not reciprocated), said to her "Judah, I saw the painting that you are working on and I think it's beautiful! You have done some great work!"

Do you know what she did? That little stinker! She turned around and gave the biggest kiss ever! 

She felt love, so she returned the love. 

And kids, man, there's so much to learn from them... she didn't return the love with a thank you or another compliment or encouraging word. She didn't return the love with a gift of some sort. She met that person in a way that THEY would feel loved. 

She KISSED them. The very thing that she detests! 

THAT'S a relationship -- becoming in tune with the people around us--the needs of the people around us. We can work and work and work until the cows come home (is that a thing?) on bettering ourselves and becoming the person that WE want to be but until we can become the person that THEY need us to be our relationships can not fully bloom, our relationships can't be the examples that we hope they would be.

That this world desperately needs them to be. 

So yeah, change starts with me. But it starts with me, thinking about you. 

Dang right, you must get that from your mother! Part two.

Finally!! A minute to sit and get the second part of this enormous lesson out of my head.

It's becoming more and more clear to me that we become parents not only to, and maybe I will even dare to say, NOT to parent new humans, but to explore and learn and be guided in a whole new side of ourselves that God put in us for HIS purposes.

It (being life, everything in life) is always about our relationship with him. Always. It never isn't.

And yes, of course, to achieve all of the goodness God has on this parenting journey, we must in fact be PARENTS, but ultimately we are ALL His children. He has us. He has them.

We are just standing in--

and in my little opinion, it's not because he needs us to. It's because we need us to.

Mind. Blown.

I think about my dear Simon boy a lot. I love him. I take care of him. I can tell you his schedule, I can sort of tell you his likes, I can definitely tell you his dislikes-- and I can tell you most of this in the context of Judah-- his big sister. Naturally, he is the stereotypical second child. I have in fact, not only forgotten his name, but I have forgotten he exists.

For instance, Simon likes when Judah jumps up and down. Simon doesn't like Judah to take toys from him. Meal times are mostly about screaming for food because I am not only focused on feeding him but also feeding his sister. These said screaming sessions, lead me to believe that he really likes to eat... so forth and so on. I learn about him, mostly because of his interactions with his big sister.

and this isn't bad, it is what it is.

 He was born into a family with a sister who likes to manage, likes to talk, a lot, likes to oversee and organize-- He will be the person he was destined to be largely because of the circumstances he was born into. Hence why many first borns, second borns etc. are predictable in many ways.

 Anyway, Simon was in his 10th month of life and really didn't have any words at all.

 NOW before anyone starts thinking that I am expecting too much, or thinking that I think he should be more like his sister-- that's not what this is about. I am the SPOKESPERSON for kids developing on their own timelines-- and not forcing anything on them.
I wasn't concerned about his speech or development.

I was concerned for my sanity.

I couldn't take the screaming and yelling for what he needed (specifically at meal times) anymore. My head was about to explode.

I remember the day. Just looking up to the heavens. Oh dear LORD, why won't this kid just TALK?!

And I remember so clearly the answer.

"You talk about him. You talk around him. How often do you talk to him?"

GULP.

That was it. I sat down. I looked at him. "Simon, it seems like you need something. Can I get you some more?"

This seems elementary. I know. It is!

But when you have 8,576,000 things to do and think about at one time and then a preschooler QUESTIONING your every move--- you don't take much time to talk to the screamer! You hear the scream and you do whatever has to be done to MAKE IT STOP.

Two days later he was asking for more. Praise you sweet Jesus. Seriously.

This got me thinking. God wanted me to focus on Simon. To build an intentional connection with him- an intentional relationship.

Through this seemingly small change, Simon was able to move into his full potential at the moment.

Relationship matters.

What would happen if we focused our energy for just one day, even, on being super intentional in our love and communication with the people around us? Would they, in turn, move into their full potential? Would we all feel more alive?

What would happen if we stopped talking about God-- but made a significant effort to speak with him. What would happen if we actually made our relationship with Jesus, a relationship that we pursued with focus, discipline and intention?

I bet there would be a change. I bet we would hear him. I bet prayers wouldn't seem so distant. We would know Him, and I bet His realness to us-- would be the light that we need to shine in darkness.

I hope that I can continue to pursue intentional relationships in my life. I hope my children see that,
and I hope that I hear one day I hear someone say to them, "You must get that from your mother!"

How Lovely to be a Woman

Awhile ago, there was a video floating around of men wearing bands around their stomachs and backs that imitated the sensations of labor pain. A sort of experiment to see if they could handle the pressure.  I have to admit, I thought it was kind of lame, and didn't watch the entire thing through. But from what I understand once the labor pains became super intense the men went BALLISTIC.

Could. Not. Deal.

I believe this.

What I don't believe though, is THIS:

As a birth worker, I hear men say all the time that they could never give birth (if given the proper parts of course!), that they could not endure the labor and birth journey.

I used to believe this was true and let me tell you, with every womanly part of me, I still desperately want to believe that they (men, that is) would never have the strength and that women are the superior gender! THERE.

But I just can't.

I hope I can explain why. Just after I had given birth to our first babe, I was traumatized! Totally, in shock, did not know WHAT just happened, and never ever ever wanted to go through it again. There was an inkling of pride and accomplishment, but mostly just trauma. Yeah.

I wanted to understand. I wanted to know WHY it had to be so intense. WHY God couldn't have just rescued me out of my "misery." WHY did the contractions had to get THAT intense before my baby could be born?

I am so humbled by what He showed me. Here it is. Ready?

Giving birth is a BIG deal. Bringing new life into the world is a BIG deal.

I know what you are thinking. You are thinking that you already knew that. But really? Think about it.

Did you?

It happens every single day. Multiple times a day. Millions of babies are born every. single. day. If I told you that my aunt's sister-in-law's cousin's daughter's baby was born today, would you even think twice about it? You wouldn't.

But when a woman is in labor, she is bringing ANOTHER HUMAN BEING INTO THE WORLD. My aunt's sister-in-law's cousin's daugther's baby is another person on this planet who will live and breathe and CHANGE the lives around him for better or for worse.

This person's life will make a difference.

God showed me that bringing forth new life is pricey. It's not easy, it's really damn hard. But it's worth it. It's worth it because the pain is for a purpose. It's for a baby. It's for an incredible love to be born between three people that will be unlike the love they have ever experienced. It is for the world to be changed.

Just like Jesus.

I often ask... How Jesus? Why Jesus, did you endure the cross? And now I have my answer.

NEW LIFE.

The pain was bearable because it was for a purpose: ME. YOU. HIM. HER.

We are worth it.

Just this past week, I had the incredible honor of supporting a friend through labor and birth. While debriefing she was speechless; searching for the words to describe her (beautiful) experience. She mentioned war. She mentioned being caught up in a war with no one to rescue her. I said to her, "But wait, you got a baby though." She thought again, "well, I guess then, it was like Jesus and the cross."

YES.

Today, I sat in church, pondering what God had shown me three years ago and what he showed my friend this past week. Then He hit me with it. The kicker. He said,

"You did it even before you experienced your daughter's love for you. Before you even knew her, you made the choice to give her life."

He did it before we knew Him. Before He could feel the satisfaction of our love. He did it knowing that we may never choose him.

That's pain with a purpose. That's LOVE.

And that's also why I have to believe that men, if physically capable, could bear the pain of giving birth. That every human being is capable of this kind of LOVE. It's what we were created for.

When I look at my children, I am humbled and honored to be a woman. To be able to experience a part of Jesus that is reserved just for women.

A part of Him that, for now, men can not fully understand.

Sick on Christmas

Christmas is around the corner, so shouldn't I be filled with joy?

I love making hot cocoa and snuggling up with my family. I love brainstorming about the perfect gift for each family member and I love love love when they come in the mail! Wrapping is fun. Christmas smells are delicious. Mariah Carey Christmas tunes are music to my ears.

These things make me so happy.

But I'm not going to lie and say that I am constantly filled with joy when thinking about the approaching holiday. Actually it's quite the opposite. When I think about the actual days of Christmas festivities I start to feel a bit faint.

Like, sick actually.

I start thinking about missed naps, late bedtimes, tantrums, well-meaning family members who are way to willing to fill little children with loads and loads of SWEETS, traveling and toys that make noise!

This does not describe a joyful holiday for me.

I'm not here to complain though.

Here is a rundown of my first christmas with a child.

Actually, I just tried to access that part of my memory and I think I may have blocked it out.

All I can remember is Christmas day. It was not too bad,  but my little lady was running low on sleep because of Christmas Eve Eve and Christmas Eve with her other family. At seven months old, she sat on the floor while everyone opened their gifts. When it came time for hers, family members naturally wanted to hold her and open her gifts with her. I watched as she fussed and half cried, not wanting to be held. While people kept saying (in the best way possible) "No, you don't want mommy now, here! let's open some gifts!" I remember my brain being absolutely fried. FRIED. It was like, all of the check engine lights were flashing in my brain, all lit up saying "Leave her alone, she's just tired!!"

I wish I could remember the full Christmas to properly describe the days that preceded this one and led me to the breakdown, but I can't. And frankly, I don't think I want to.

I had to bring this to God because I absolutely could not have this happen every single holiday and we still had one more family to visit!

He showed me, what you are probably thinking right now.

I have control issues.

I know this, I know that I know what is best for my children, based on what God has shown me and past experience, but sometimes, even this has to be let go a bit. Hanging on to anything can develop into control. God was showing me that if I try to control everything-- even with the best intentions-- then I am not allowing Him to come close. I am actually keeping myself from experiencing God even more. More importantly, He showed me that this world is not ideal. It is fallen. When I try to ALWAYS  keep my children's environments at the ideal temperature, I am robbing them. I am taking away from them the opportunity to learn how to function in a less than ideal world, and I am actually (this is hard to type) keeping God further away from them as well. I stand in place of Holy Spirit who was sent to us as comforter and guide to learn how to navigate this world no matter what situation we find ourselves in.

Phew.

As are many things with God, this was comforting, refreshing and extremely hard to swallow.

How can I be ok just sitting back? WELL! That's where this past thanksgiving came into play. I tried just sitting back. Letting it allllll slide. The lady had lots of good thanksgiving food accompanied by 2 solo cups filled with orange juice, cherry pie, pumpkin pie and three layer cake. Family members smiled and giggled at her extreme desire for junk food and her oh so adorable tantrum when I tried to say no. When we got home (past her bedtime and with no nap) bed time was out of control. We both just sat and cried. It was terrible.

To God I went. What was going on?!?

He encouraged me to put the two together and see what happens. Combining what I know to be best, but with room for movement so that Holy Spirit could guide both me and my children creates BALANCE. He spoke that He has given me the ability to know what is best for my children, I have to stick to that, but I can't let myself go absolutely crazy when things aren't going exactly as planned. There has to be a balance.

So here is the balance challenge this Christmas. Christmas eve and Christmas day are planned. Last minute we are asked to tack on two more events back to back, making 4 days of family events in a row.

Excuse me while I grab a paper bag and take deep breaths.

I simply said no. Nope. No. We aren't doing both. I have a responsibility to my children and my family to keep the stress levels low--to make Christmas enjoyable.

This is in fact the celebration of our Savior's birth. It can be so easily forgotten.

Lord, help me as I keep trying to find the balance!

Any tips on how to keep Christmas' bipolar qualities at bay?

A house is not a home...

"And Jesus replied to him, 'Foxes have holes and the birds of the air have lodging places, but the Son of Man has nowhere to lay his head."

Before I was married, but after I left home, I moved around a lot. Now that I am married, WE move around. A lot.

 Maybe it's me? 

In the seven years after high school I moved 8 times. In 4 years of marriage we have moved 4 times. I like to think that perhaps God knew what my marriage would look like so he prepped me to be an extra efficient purger and packer in the years leading up to it :)

 Or maybe I just have a home-commitment problem. 

Either way, because of the constant moving it's hard for me to really lay down roots, decorate in ways that I would like and really create a home that I want to live in and grow a family in.

During one particular move, I was extra emotional. We were moving from my absolute dream apartment to a house and a town that was just not... me. I remember unpacking our room while my husband was having some friends over to play cards. I was silently crying, and heard him tell one of our friends that I was not "handling the move very well." 

That's when I lost it. 

Total meltdown, crashed into a pile of boxes and sobbed. 

WHAT is our life? Why can't I settle God? Where are you taking us God?

 In between cries, I started thinking of Jesus. He didn't have a home on earth either. I perked up a bit, honored and humbled that God would let me experience a bit more of His son. I wondered how Jesus did it. 

My conclusion? 

The presence of God. 

He didn't have a home but he was so close to his father. 

Standing in a room of boxes, I knew what would make our house a home. And it wasn't the hardwood floors that I longed for. It was the presence of God. 

And again, I felt honored and humbled that God would choose little ol' me to walk this path.

What makes your house a home?

** Disclaimer: To my darling husband, this does NOT in any way mean that I don't want to move back to the city into a dream apartment. I would do that tomorrow. Or tonight, actually. Yeah. Tonight.

Respect the Journey

As a birth worker the  idea of "respecting the journey" is something that comes up often. Respect of the birthing woman...respect that her body, if left alone, will birth a baby. Respecting that the baby knows how to be born. God has shown me how this plays out in our journey as Christians as well.
He has also shown me that the journey doesn't really matter.


It's hard for me to wrap my head around this.


But if we could always understand God then He wouldn't be much of a God, right?

When I was pregnant with my first child, I would tell God, "I can't have a baby. I'm not where I need to be spiritually!"

I wanted to be at a place on my journey with Jesus where I spent quality time with him everyday- where my faith could literally move mountains. I wanted to see miracles, healing, signs and wonders everyday and hear God clearer than I could hear my husband.

But I wasn't there at all.

Like, not even a little bit.

God told me something like this:
"It doesn't matter that they (my children) aren't seeing the "glory" of your relationship with me. What         matters is that they see your hunger and your thirst. It matters that they see you pressing on towards your goal and striving to know me better. If they just see the end result, it will all feel way out of their reach. They need to see your journey, and you need to respect your journey and not wish it away."

-----

Just the other day, my daughter was eating her lunch. She was taking each and every pea, squishing it and putting it to the side. She said she was making "pea oil." It took everything in me to just walk away and trust she would eat. I tried so hard to fight every urge to control the way she was choosing to eat her food, after all, I kept telling myself, all I really cared about was whether or not the peas made it into her belly.
I walked away and washed the dishes. To my (very pleasant!) surprise, once I was done, I looked over and she had eaten all of her peas. I heard God say "It doesn't matter how they come to me, all that matter is that they do." This gave me hope that no matter what the journey looks like, the end result is what matters.


Hey, maybe the lesson is this:

They need to see my journey, I need to respect their journey, and God will take care of the end result.

The Three Essentials

I told God one day, "I want my (our) daughter to grow and learn and be healthy." Much to my surprise He didn't go on and on about the importance of always eating organic food, or keeping her away from sweets (Gosh, I wish He had because that would be the BEST excuse when explaining myself to family and friends). He didn't say anything about parenting philosophies, approaches to learning, or taking multi-vitamins either. This is what He said:

Sunlight. Fill her with the Word. Relax. 

That's what it takes?

I wasn't sure if I had heard the whole sunlight business correctly... I mean, what about SPF 155 and sun hats and umbrellas? But then I got to thinking... God created the sun, He would never create something that would destroy His people... I decided to do some research.

Did you know that living creatures survive because of sunlight? Plants need it to grow and we need it for energy and growth as well. We not only consume sunlight from being outside on a sunny day, we also get vitmain D and stored solar energy from the plants and animals that we consume.
Hello cellular respiration! Finally, biology class is coming in handy!

The latest research is also showing that EARLY exposure to sunlight decreases the risks for autoimmune diseases like multiple sclerosis and cancers like prostate and wait for it... MELANOMA! It seems that the people who have a history of being in the sun are more likely to recover from cancers like melanoma. Crazy. Absolutely crazy.

The list goes on...

[Now I realize that our world is broken, and that the sun and our atmosphere are not necessarily in tip top shape, I am certainly not negating the importance of sun safety. My point is that it was created for good-- and we should take advantage of that-- not fear it.]

Next up-- filling her with the Word. I must admit, this is one that I struggle with. How do you fill a baby/toddler with the Bible!? I've come to take this a couple of ways... there is the Bible, there are the words that God speaks to me, and there are the words God speaks to her.

As for the Bible, when she was a baby, I would read to her while she nursed. I imagined the sweet words of God seeping into her little brain, exciting her spirit, and nurturing her in the best way possible.

But then she became a toddler.

We read a little toddler Bible to her occasionally-- and when I read my "verse of the day" I try to remember to read it out loud to her. It seems as though her busy toddler self doesn't really care much for the Bible though. hmph.
I still believe that whether she is sitting quietly in my lap as I read or roaming around looking for a left over snack somewhere on the floor, the words of the Bible are seeping into her little brain, exciting her spirit and nurturing her in the best way possible :)

Then there are the words that I hear from God, that her dad hears and that even the other people around her hear. We believe these are just as important to growing a little life. Early on we started recording her history and soon after she was born I started writing down the things that God was speaking to me about being a mom. These may not serve her just yet, but eventually I know that these "words of God" will build her up and encourage her wherever she is at.

Finally there are the words that God speaks to her. This has been my favorite way by far of filling my child with the Word! We simply ask her to be still for a minute and see what God is saying to her, or sometimes we ask her if she would like to pray and wait to see what comes out!
She will often tell us that Jesus is saying her name... one time she prayed that her friend would come over the next day. I decided to keep my mouth shut and not tell her that her friend was not coming over--and good thing because the next day his mom called and asked if we could watch him for a couple of hours! How amazing it was to share that answer to prayer with her. Hopefully this type of simple communication will foster an incredible relationship between her and her Father.

Last, but certainly not least, was God telling me to chill out. I, and I think a lot of moms, can get quite crazy about- well- everything! Crazy about nap time, whether or not our kids are eating too much or too little or the wrong things. Crazy about how much time is spent on the iPhone or the television, and what they are actually watching on these devices! Or how about GOOGLE??! I find myself constantly googling symptoms and issues-- one time I even heard God say "do you trust me or google?" GULP.

Whisper His name in the whirlwind.

I once heard that said. Seems to be the cure to my craziness-- my key to relaxation.

It centers me-- whispering His name.

I also remind myself that my kids are His kids-- and before I lay them down to sleep I give them right back to him (well, let's be honest here-- when I remember!). Like, audibly tell myself and God, "here you go-- they are yours!"

So sunlight, word, relax. Seems easy.

It's not.

The busy-ness of this life seems to get in the way of most of what God teaches me.

But when I remember what God has spoken, life seems so much sweeter.

In these moments I learn exactly what it meant when Jesus said "my yoke is easy", and I can rest assured and in true trust that my children will grow and learn and be healthy.

Ask and you will receive!

A History Lesson with God

Ever wonder what Freshman History might have been like if Jesus was your teacher?

I can't wait to one day see every day completely and totally from God's perspective. I bet I will belly laugh at the silly little things I let worry and stress me day by day.

Something that we like to do in our family is record our personal "history" so that in the dry times we can remember back to what God has done in our lives-- instant faith booster!
These personal histories not only serve as a faith builder, but we also use them to look back and see how God was moving through a certain situation or setting us up for something we were believing for when we didn't even know it.

A good example of this was when we found that we were going to have our first baby-- it was quite a surprise! A surprise as in, we weren't trying at all, and had actually planned on having a baby after we had been married for at least two or three years, but here we were coming up to our first anniversary and our little lady was on her way!

It would be a lie to say that we didn't errr... struggle, in the beginning with what was to come. I desperately needed to know WHY?
As I spent time with Jesus, Holy Spirit started to show me what was going on. When I looked back through my prayer journals and my recorded history I saw what was happening.

God totally wanted her and he wanted her now.

I was amazed to read prayers I had prayed about my children that I had forgotten about. And prayers about my health that later I realized were cured by having a baby!

Miracle worker from the start!

Eventually as the pregnancy went on, the prayers spoken over me were about this baby actually bringing me into my destiny. After 5 long years of praying for my purpose, an unexpected baby would bring me down the path God needed me on.

WOAH.

As I looked back, I realized that before this child was even born, she had a history with God.

We definitely needed to record it.

She is only two, yet she has pages of history already.

Gosh, I think of how different my life may have been if I had the opportunity to see how Jesus used me and moved in my life way before I was aware. Where would my faith be now?

If your child's history with God was recorded what would it say?

How much more of an appreciation would you have for that little soul?

And how much more would you be able to trust God with her?

There's enough grace to go around

There's really no way around it: parenting is tough stuff.

If we didn't have enough going on already, between work, maintaining relationships with our friends and family, caring for a home which includes, quite possibly, a pet of some sort and of course, pursuing a romantic relationship, then life tacks on a baby.

A baby, is a baby. Impossible not to love and superior in our hierarchy system to many of these other responsibilities. The problem is, just because a baby appears doesn't mean the other things disappear. So we find ourselves having to live life as it were, but now, as a mom or dad.

Somehow by the grace of God we manage.
We juggle everything at once and many of us say that we wouldn't do a thing differently, and probably, we wouldn't. But can we all agree that it's not always easy? That walking through life with the constant reminder that another human being relies solely on us can be a daunting thought?

I often think about Mary (as in the mother of Jesus). I think about how she must have felt giving birth to, and raising the actual Son of God. I think about her pregnancy and her unassisted manger birth. I think about how she may have decided how to deal with toddler conflicts and sibling rivalry. I think about how her and Joseph may have talked to Jesus about sex and love, or even what they did when Jesus accidentally pooped his tunic because he was too busy playing to go to the bathroom. I think about this all in the context of Mary raising JESUS, God's actual child.
 I think "Holy smokes! You must have been a woman of so much grace. You also must have gone crazy at least 4 days out of the week!"

I hear a still and small voice whisper to me: "You are raising a child of God as well."

Ummm... was that supposed to make me feel better?

I continue thinking to myself, "well, the child of God that I am raising  walked out of the bathroom with a razor in her mouth the other day. She also decided she wanted to only pee outside on the ground like a dog from now on, and lately (at the bold age of 2) she has taken to calling her parents by their first names."
Just as I am feeling like a complete failure I remember the story of Mary and Joseph traveling on a long journey back home when they realize that they haven't seen Jesus in three whole days. They lost Jesus!

The revelation almost makes me giddy. Mary and Joseph actually LOST the Son of God and well, He came out perfect!

I hear the voice again "You too, are a woman of grace."