A Visit from a Squidgy Neighbor

Yesterday I tackled the weeds that had taken over my garden. Only a few herbs and marigolds remained. I was thinking of winter squash, pumpkins, lettuce, spinach, and broccoli as I set to work.

My garden had succumbed to a weed takeover 

I shoved my fingers down into dark, warm soil. Wiggled them around and felt the life. Yanking on weeds I fought and reclaimed land for planting. Pumpkins, big and orange, were filling my mind when a fat body hopped, plop, in front of me. Stifling  a little squeal, it quick became a chuckle as I leaned down to examine the fine fellow I had startled.

His bulgy, toady eyes blinked at me. Stretching out a finger I stroked his plump body painted a clever brown camouflage. He eyed me suspiciously and wiggled down into the dirt. Maybe he hoped to blend in so the lady with the big grin, standing too close, would go away.

Hip, hop, plop, blup went his squidgy, muddy feet through the garden soil. He had had enough of my curiosity. I set my jaw to liberating the rectangle of earth from invading weeds. Toad found a happy spot under a nearby rosemary bush to make himself a hole. Nestling down the sides of his big belly flopped over his back feet and he snuggled contentedly in the loam. 

Handsome fellow

Working steadily, sun beating down on my brow, crick in my back, I kept one eye on my new friend. Laughter rang out and, "Mommy!" pulling me away from my chore. Children and friend mingled. Four little pairs of hands and four sets of eyes circled up to see the plump little treasure. "Ooh, aahh, he's so cute," exclaimed four sets of voices admiring his lovely skin.

"Isn't  God clever to make such a wonderful creature?" I teach. "Yes he is." Off they scamper in every direction, like puppy's frolicking and tumbling. Back to work. As the sun gets sleepy I finish my assault on the weed invasion. A  plot of freshly turned dark soil stretches before me, fresh, ready to bear new life. A few remaining herbs stand at attention keeping watch. And my fat little friend sleeps tucked in a blanket of dirt.

The garden plot has been reclaimed

Jesus Bugs Me, the Cure for a Wicked Heart

"Yes Jesus bugs me, yes Jesus bugs me, yes Jesus bugs me the Bible tells me so," sings my four year old Maggie lately. I chuckle to myself over her misunderstanding or perhaps her interpretation of the children's classic. Her perspective sheds light on some pretty sketchy behavior and I think she speaks for others when she claims, "yes Jesus bugs me." Jesus bugs us in different ways. Some are bugged by his insistence that he in fact is in charge, I have a feeling Maggie falls into this category. Others are bugged by his altogether uniqueness, they're bewitched, can't get enough of him, he gets under their skin.

Last week I was reading Psalm 1 to the kids at breakfast.  

Oh, the joys of those who do not    follow the advice of the wicked,   or stand around with sinners, or join in with mockers. Psalm 1:1

I hadn't even made it passed verse one when Maggie jumps in, "I like being wicked." Taken back I wasn't quite sure what to say. Chris had come into the kitchen in time to hear his littlest pk (pastor's kid) make that charming statement. "What does wicked mean?" he asked Maggie. I'm sure he was hoping to clarify her misunderstanding of the word. No such luck. Without missing a beat she answered, "to be bad." Well, she has a good vocabulary.

We took a moment to help her understand that it was entirely her choice to be good or wicked. She just needed to be aware of the consequences, which we explained. Her brother was horrified that she would want to be wicked, which is a heart reflection, he wants to please Jesus and his parents. Jesus has gotten under his skin. Maggie is not encumbered by such desires. We told her that her family loves Jesus and wants to please him, while she lives with us she will be required to do what is right, the above mentioned consequences will ensure her compliance, but ultimately the issue comes down to her heart.

Her confession is honest. Most people should be so candid. I think her statement is a reflection of the human condition. Unless we respond to Jesus' love and come to the place of willingly submitting to his authority we're like Maggie, free to choose wickedness, and apt to, we just need to be aware of the consequences.

We've all had moments when we "like being wicked." But when Jesus bugs us, gets under our skin, in a good way we will begin to love being righteous more. Until that time we're free to be wicked we just need to be aware of the consequences.

For the Lord watches over the path of the godly,  but the path of the wicked leads to destruction. Psalm 1:6

I pray for my little girl, that Jesus would "bug her", he's the cure for a wicked heart. I pray he would get under her skin and mold her to his likeness, I pray that for myself as well. I trust that in time she will come to prefer the joys and blessings of a godly life. 

Let's make that our prayer today for those around us who are choosing wickedness, that the consequences will lead them to grace. And for our own hearts that Jesus would bug us, would get under our skin, molding us more to his likeness every day.

The Way To Serbia

I'm linking up with my friend Ellen today to share Something I Fear.

How do you get to Serbia? I've asked myself that question many times in the last few months. Besides getting to the point that one would want to go to Serbia, which is a whole other post, how does one do it? At times I feel like I might as well say I want to go to the moon.

But it's not the moon I want to go to. It's a long trip, to visit flesh and blood, that God has put on my heart. A strong theology is important, but it's meaningless if it doesn't move us. The way to Serbia is through the heart of God.

It's a trip taken on the prayers of an eight year old for his mommy. Asking in faith, "God help Mommy have the money to go to Serbia so she can get the kids without family's bigger beds and toys, and teach others how to love them."

I can't talk about loving orphans if I'm not willing to show them what that looks like. I'm going to Serbia on the prayers and accountability of my children.

It's a huge undertaking, going to Serbia. But it's not the going that I fear; the being far from home, or the different culture, or the hard to love people. No, I'm not afraid of going. I'm more afraid of not going.

What I fear the most is the possibility of living a life that doesn't matter. I'm afraid of having a faith that doesn't transform or love that doesn't act. I'm afraid of words ringing hollow in my children's ears, not matching up with my actions.

I'm terribly afraid of Christianity that is boring.

I couldn't bear it if the transformation offered in the New Testament, the promise of a filled up life, the gift of joyous living, wasn't true. I need to know that worship is more than a song we sing on Sundays; but a way to live, testifying that we believe every word God has spoken.

The only way I know to fight the fear of dead religion is to pursue a living one.

What is something you fear? How do you combat your fears?

Beauty Calls

Sometimes life pounds hard, zips past, and makes demands. Even if it's just the simple routine of work and dishes and bills. And sometimes, really all the time if we're listening, beauty calls out. Her voice isn't demanding though. It's gentle as a mother's, salty as an ocean breeze; full of nuance and flavor, whispering of rest, joy and healing. Beauty is a gift. God's gift, an intimate part of his created order. I wonder if enjoying his gift of beauty is a form of worship, an expression of thanks.

This Sunday, after the work and privilege of worshiping God, our family took time for the work and privilege of enjoying beauty, together. It was hot and we (okay me) snapped once or twice, but it was lovely and satisfying to be together. It's a whole other experience living near water, one that we're discovering the joys of bit by bit. These pictures were all taken in Pensacola, Florida, enjoy.

Our lunch view at The Fish House, best grits EVER!

My sassy southern belle!

I loved the artistry of this charming old church.

A peak inside.

Live oaks! Living poetry in a park.

Live oaks are prone to long limbs that break.
I love their solution to offering the trees support!

My water baby enjoying the splash of a pretty fountain.

Southern architecture delights my senses.
I love the balance and decorum of this house with it's cheery mustard walls.

Beauty makes us better. Where have you seen beauty lately? Won't you share with us how you answer beauty's call?

A Basket Full of Thanks {Mondays}

Today is my Max's 8th birthday. Every mother wonders, "how can it be?" as her children reach new milestones. I ask myself that question today.

Our first meeting is still so vivid, the power of the experience burned into my mind and heart. I remember holding my son and asking him, "where did you come from?" One minute he was invisible, the next he was filling my life to the brim. A 7lb. person whose needs shaped our every waking moment, and most of our sleeping ones.

Today he's a far cry from that tiny flailing newborn. Actually he's still flailing, his arms and legs are just longer and manage to bump more things in their path. And he's still vocal, he had a lot to say back then, he just wasn't able to use words to say it. My desire is that God would give him a powerful message to share and fill his many words with grace.

I'm very proud of my boy. He's an amazing mix of his father and me, and yet his own person all at once. Chris and I are opposites, to see us combined into one little body is humorous, we shake our bemused heads everyday! My desire as a mommy is to partner with God to shape his character and help him discover God's purposes for his life. What a fearful and wonderful task!

Today I'm counting the gifts of parenting my sweet boy:

241. I'm thankful for the way being a mother challenges me to live self-sacrificing, holding me accountable.

242. What a joy to see him grow in his understanding of truth, responding to the Holy Spirit.
243.My heart fills to bursting as I watch him learn to serve and love his sister.

244. I love his creative mind that embraces discovery and learning.
245. Seeing how he fits into our family, taking his place, reminds me of the larger family of God and how we were all made to fit.

246. He delights his father and me with his affection and warmth, always ready for a snuggle or what he calls "a long hug." I love how he loves people.
247. It excites me to imagine what God has in mind for him and to see how the pieces will fit together as he grows and matures.

248. His smile, that makes his eyes dance and face light up, warms my heart.
249. Reading great books together, I love sharing some of my old favorites with him.

250. I'm thankful that parenting Max gives me intimate glimpses into our loving Father's great heart.

I pray this promise over both of my children and trust God, who is faithful, to fulfill it. Genesis 17:7 "And I will establish my covenant between me and you and your offspring after you through their generations for an everlasting covenant to be God to you and to your offspring after you."

What promises do you hold onto for the ones you love?

{Linking up with Ann Voskamp at A Holy Experience}

Mother's Day

Toledo Museum of Art

My Mother's Day gift, a crisp, new NLT Bible

Breakfast in bed, cinnamon chip pancakes and golden french toast coffee

One adorable, proud little boy, he's my super hero!

I had such a nice Mother's Day this year. On Saturday we went to the Toledo Museum of Art, which I thoroughly enjoyed. I was surprised how much my kids seemed to like visiting the museum as well. I definitely plan to return as soon as I can. Sunday I was treated to a delicious breakfast in bed, made by Max and Daddy. We enjoyed worshiping together and then a wonderful lunch at Olive Garden. I've been wanting a new Bible, my old one is a bit tattered and small print. My sweet husband surprised me with a new one, it was the perfect Mother's Day gift. After a nice afternoon nap we went out for ice cream, it was a sweet ending to a lovely day.

Max in Ohio

Max and Macy

Enjoying some sunshine Easter afternoon

Max and some new school friends

Max at the playground

Unfortunately the transition to a new home and school for Max has been more challenging than for Maggie. He has in the last week missed his teacher and friends and as much as he likes his new friends I think the vulnerability of being the new kid at school has been hard. He does seem content at home and loves Uncle Mike and Aunt Terry and enjoys their grandchildren Caleb and Macy. He enjoys the birds, nearby playground and yard. Thankfully he's an outgoing little guy and I think in the long run he will bounce back, but I know there are still transitions to be made and it will wear on him a bit longer. I'm praying that God protects his heart and I especially need wisdom as a mommy on how to parent my children through transition.

Maggie's adventures in Ohio

Maggie and her new buddy Caleb playing with bubbles on Easter

Maggie bunny

Maggie enjoying a sunny day, she has a new pink tutu and sandles

Maggie filling bird feeders (in her tutu) with Uncle Mike and Max

Enjoying the playground just around the corner on a sunny day

Here are some things Maggie's been up to in Ohio. She has new friends Uncle Mike, Aunt Terry and Caleb. Some of the things she enjoys are 'helping' Uncle Mike and Aunt Terry with their chores around the house, playing with Caleb, playing outside when the sun is shining especially at the playground. She also has enjoyed her new 'class' at church and asks to go often. Thankfully little kids adapt to change pretty well and she's doing okay with the changes we've experienced lately.

Little grins

"Maggie is Superman"

Max, toothless first grader

Maggie's new phase includes a superman obsession! We have the old black and white Adventures of Superman on DVD and Maggie loves it. One night at dinner she put her hand on her chest and announced "Maggie is Superman"! Thanks to friends who loaned her the Wonder Woman outfit, she can now dress the part.

Max is officially a snaggle toothed first grader. He lost his second top tooth a couple of weeks ago. There's nothing like a freckle faced boy and a toothless grin! He's doing well in school and has settled into a routine that includes lots of reading, playing with friends and legos!

Maggie

I have this little munchkin that lives at my house. She is delightful and sweet. Sometimes she squeals an unnecessary amount, but it's often overlooked due to her ridiculous cuteness. Notice the sandal tan on the tiny feet! She browns like her mommy. I tell her regularly to stop growing right now (I love 2 years old!) but as is the tendency with most wee ones she pays no heed.

Easter

We had a very nice day celebrating the Resurrection with our church family, sharing an Easter brunch and a good service. Later we visited our friends the Stambaugh's for lunch and a western Easter egg hunt. Max and Maggie had a great time hunting for treats and visiting the animals on such a pretty day.

My Maggie

Excerpt from
The Children's Hour

I have you fast in my fortress,
And will not let you depart,
But put you down into the dungeon
In the round-tower of my heart.

And there will I keep you forever,
Yes, forever and a day,
Till the walls shall crumble to ruin,
And moulder in dust away.

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

Jesus Blood

As I sit down to write my heart is so full. Today, or maybe I should say the last few weeks, parenting Max has been a challenge. Ive noticed since his 5th birthday in January and since Jacob moved a few weeks ago Max has been less mellow and more argumentative. He's been expressing his displeasure at having to obey or being corrected with rude words, angry faces, stomping, things he's never done quite to this level. I think in some ways as he's grown he's been testing the boundaries and trying out a few new tricks. Tonight we required that he try at least a bite of either an orange or black beans with our meal. There was much wailing, gnashing of teeth and in the end a spanking. As he expressed his frustration and anger we tried to help him to understand that some expressions (especially rudeness and setting your parents straight) are not appropriate.

The terrible ordeal ended with him crying with orange in his mouth, which led to choking, which led to him going to bed early. Unfortunately there will be orange for breakfast, we'll see how that goes. As I got him ready for bed he was very emotional and crying still. Between tears he sobbed he was nothing but trouble, he just couldn't do things right. As much as that broke my heart I believed I was hearing conviction. I took the opportunity to talk him through what he was feeling.

I should clarify that this all started a few days ago in a time out for something or other. I asked him why his heart was so angry. He told me it was because his heart was black. I asked him what he thought would help his heart. "God's blood, I need God's blood for my heart." Profound. When I originally asked the question I wasn't expecting anything quite so deep.

So, back to tonight. As he was telling me he was nothing but trouble I realized one thing that was distressing him was that if Jesus blood was in his heart why was he still trouble. Oh, haven't I asked the same question a hundred times. He said he believed God loved him but not that Jesus died just once, because he needed his blood again. I took the opportunity to explain that even though Jesus blood saves us we also need to ask for his blood applied to our hearts to forgive us again when we sin, but that Jesus doesn't need to die again. So he said right away well I better ask for his blood to forgive me again. He squinted his eyes real tight and prayed, "Jesus, I'm sorry I was rude and I'm trouble, will you give me your blood to forgive me, Amen."

He was hooked and wanted 'to know more'. So I told him a little about the Jewish sacrificial system and why Jesus was our lamb. His eyes got wide. I told him about sanctification. To which he replied, "I just don't get it." I told him I didn't get it when I was little either but that he would learn. I explained that sometimes mommy and daddy are still trouble and we need Jesus blood in our hearts all over again too. But that one day we would all be perfect and we wouldn't be trouble or need to be forgiven ever again.

He relaxed and went to sleep. And I left his room full to the brim to hear my child cry out to his savior. I learned so much about myself, my son, God. Life is painful, even when you're five, only Jesus blood gives the pain meaning. I love how he grasped the concept of the blood. Where there is sin someone has to die, there must always be blood. I'm so grateful Jesus provided his. I don't ask Jesus to "put his blood in my heart again" often enough. I'm thankful for the reminder of a child.

Heaven

It's funny how are kids reflect us and how often things we're feeling they verbalize for us. I've been really homesick lately, big surprise. I know this is an area of my life God wants complete control of and he's constantly working on that area of my heart.

Today out of the blue Max, with tears in his eyes, said, "I miss Jesus, I really want to go back to heaven and see him." I asked what he was talking about, we had never been in heaven. He said, "well I have, it was in the clouds and Jesus was there. I miss him. " I asked when he had been there and he told me he was there when he was a baby. Now theologically I don't know how that works, but I wasn't going to argue with him. I've heard of people who testify to very young children seeming to remember God or be able to see angels. I don't understand it but my assumption is that the Bible is serious when the psalmist testifies to being formed in his mother's womb. I can only imagine that he is recalling an intimacy that he had with Jesus at his very beginning.

Max often says things that indicate he wants to be in another place or in heaven specifically with Jesus. He's never referring to a physical move, he loves Cody. It amazes me that a small child feels the confines and burdens of this world and knows he wants to be somewhere better. Maybe he's reflecting my longing for a heavenly home. I often weary of the struggle with my flesh and our fallen state, I'm ready for true emancipation. I think it's a sign of the regenerative work of the Holy Spirit even in one so young. He instinctively knows there's something more, a promise yet to be fulfilled. Children are amazing.

Play Time

Maggie is 3 1/2 months here, August 28. She was ready to play and interact, so I whipped out the camera. She's starting to use her hands more and smile, but you have to work really hard for a laugh.