Another one year old!

Exactly one year ago today our baby I. showed up two weeks ahead of schedule.  I celebrate so much about his arrival and this past year beyond the fact that he was and is a sweet, incredible, lovely baby.  The fact is, this little boy completely changed me as a mother and as a person in general.  My only regret is that it took me this long to see the light.

I had announced after the birth of T. that I thankfully would never be going through labor and delivery again.  I didn’t want to be pregnant with him.  I spent the first half of my pregnancy languishing the fact that I was pregnant, that I was that much further away from saying good-bye to the baby stage of our life.   I probably should say I’m ashamed of this fact, but I’ve purposed to live my life openly and unashamed, even the ugly parts.  God’s grace allows me to do that.   So yes, I lacked total perspective in the first half of my pregnancy.

And then at some point, my heart turned.  I accepted God’s plan and embraced it a little bit.  And then he was born.  And I just looked at him and loved him.  And in the weeks and months that followed, God began to show me how I had tried to rush through time, hurry my kids through their childhood, so it could get to the easier part, the part where I was getting sleep and not feeling stretched so thin.  I had blamed that on so many things.  But the truth is, it was just my attitude.  And this new little person reminded me of that. 

So this past year I slowed down and cherished each of I.’s little milestones.  I stopped waiting for him to sleep through the night, stopped wishing we were at the next step.  And I also did that for my older children.  Even in the crappy moments, I reminded myself that they would only be young for such a short time.  And I remembered every single day that only that moment was promised to me with them.  It was (is) a gift.   

My little I. shattered my plans for the future and he is a little reminder to me that my plans are completely insignificant compared to those that God has for me.  What a gift he is to all of us!  I pray whatever this next year has in store for him, and for all of my children, that I will continue to live in the moment, to love them deeply, to listen to them, to cherish each and every second because most likely I will blink and they will all be a year older.

God Answers Little Prayers

I've been struggling lately.  Really struggling.  When you're struggling it usually means you're having a hard time trusting that God has your back, that He's listening...  One thing or the others seems to go wrong and I fall apart like things will never get better.  Today though I had a bright moment that I want to share.

The boys are taking tennis lessons every Tuesday and Thursday morning.  Today they were grouped together which usually makes J. insanely competitive towards M.  Neither of my kids are tennis genius's but M. is definitely NOT a sports athlete type.  He prefers to dance.  But...he likes tennis and has a relaxed attitude about trying new things.  J. on the other hand is super competitive and hard on himself.  He gets angry when he doesn't get something right the first time.  If J. misses the ball he furls up his face and stomps his feet.   If M. misses the ball he runs to the back of the line, turns around and smiles at me, winks, and gives me a thumbs up!  He couldn't care less!  So very different.

Today each boy was placed on a different "team" and the goal of each team was to get 20 balls over the net first.  Every time it was J.'s turn he pretty much got the ball over.  M. never did, not once.  It was the last point.  The teams were tied 19 to 19 and the last two kids up from each team were none other than J. and M.  The teacher said, "Okay if J. gets it and M. doesn't, J.'s team wins.  If M. gets it over and J. doesn't M.'s team wins.  If they both get it over the net, both teams win!"  "Oh my goodness!" I thought to myself.  I wanted them both to get it so badly.  I wanted them both to win.  But seriously the odds of that were slim because as I previously mentioned, M. had never hit the ball over the net even once.  So I prayed, "God please let them both get it."  And you know what?  They both did!  A tie!  Thank you Lord.  I'm having a tough time right now trusting God work certain things out in my life, but He is there.  He never leaves my side.  I needed a little reminder of that today and He gave it to me.

Letting Go: My little T. labor story

Well tonight marks two years ago that I began the painful journey towards meeting my sweet T. : )   As I was dropping M. off at school I passed the restaurant where Ricardo and I ate lunch exactly two years ago and the memories came flooding back.  So here’s a few snippets of that story I don’t think I’ve shared before, or if I did I can’t remember.

T. is our number 3.  J. was number one and delivered while I was blissfully drugged up with an epidural.  I had bad complications from said epidural and promised I’d never do it again.  So M. was a drug free labor and delivery.  He came fast and furious, but I had never gone through the whole thing without drugs so beforehand I was blissfully unaware of the pain I would endure.  Fast forward 2 years and I was planning another drug free birth, only this time I knew what was going to happen and what it would be like.  I was scared.  Ignorance is bliss they do say and this time I was not ignorant! 

In the weeks leading up to her birth I remember feeling a looming sense of dread.  I was ready to be done with pregnancy, but wanted to skip over the birth part of it.  Every time I would have contractions (which was often as I am a big contractor for weeks before my babies are born) I would pray that it was not time yet!  I remember feeling so relieved every time they would peter out.

They day before T. was born I had a midwife appointment and I literally poured my heart out to her telling her that I just felt like I wasn’t ready and I didn’t want to go through it.  She listened and said, “You just have to let go and let her come.”  On the ride to the aforementioned restaurant, Ricardo and I chatted about this.  I was typically hormonal, crying about how our life was about to change and how all I knew was boys and that made me comfortable and how would it be with a girl?….etc.  But I ended my tear fest by repeating the midwife’s words, “I know. I know.  I just have to let go.”

I don’t know if that triggered some sort of release, but later that night the contractions began and twelve hours later T. made her entrance into the world. 

So here’s my little practical application that connects to T. birth:  Life isn’t always easy.  Sometimes we have to go through stuff.  We have to do things that make us uncomfortable, especially for God.   Instead of holding back and being fearful, we need to let go and let God take us through the rough spot, help us to do something difficult, whatever it is.  Don’t hold back.  He is with you.

Casting all your anxieties on him, because he cares for you. 1Peter 5:7

Blue Eyes and Double-Jointed Thumbs

I’ve always sort of secretly lamented the fact that my children don’t really look like me.  I think this might be a similar experience among other interracial families where two or more races are blended together to make little people who while (according to me) possessing beautiful features, don’t really resemble either of their parents.   My kids really do look like each other, but I’ve never really been able to identify anything in them that I know for certain comes definitively from me. 

Honestly it wasn’t really that big of a deal.  But I’ve always sort of looked longingly at families where the child clearly just takes after one of their parents.  Like their genes were just stamped and replicated so obviously, there would be no question that the kids belonged there.  My nephew is an example of this.  He is like a carbon copy of my sister.  He looks exactly the way I picture my children looking before I met and married someone with dark brown skin. 

My boys were both born, beautiful brown eyes, olive skin, and don’t look like me at all.  I expected the same from my daughter before she made her appearance and for the most part I was right.  Except for two very unlikely, slightly strange features that she possesses that always make me smile, because they always remind me without a shadow of a doubt that she got them from me!  The first are her eyes.  They are blue.  Really what are the chances of that?  I’ve seen it before in pictures, but honestly if you know anything about how genetics work with determining eye color, she is a bit of an anomaly.  My husband has absolutely no history of anyone in his lineage with eyes any other color than brown.  So technically T. should have had no chance of ending up with blue eyes.  Yet I assure you she definitely has them!

The second is very quirky.  As a kid I used to love to freak out all my friends by popping my crazy double- jointed thumbs in an out of sockets.  It was my cool/weird super human trick.  Well let me just tell you the big smile I got on my face when I held my little T.’s newborn hand in mine, counted and wiggled all her fingers, and joyfully discovered her flexible double jointed thumbs!  Almost two years later it still makes me smile every time I see her popping that thumb in and out of it’s socket (she’s unaware that this is weird yet).

So seriously what is even the point of me sharing this with anyone?  Honestly I don’t really know.   They’re not really a big deal in comparison to the gift of life God has given me in my children or on a much greater scale, the gift of life He has given me through his Son Jesus.  In metaphoric terms, the gift of Christ is like a bowl of my favorite ice cream every day, and my daughter’s eye color and thumb tricks are like tiny sprinkles.  But I’m still thankful for them.  I think He gave me those sprinkles because He knew they would mean something to me and bring me joy.  He’s a generous and loving Creator.  

So God, I know you can read this, and I just want to thank you.  You deserve thanks for so much more, but for just this one second I want to thank you for blue eyes and double-jointed thumbs and for the bond of a mother and daughter.  I’m really grateful for that.  You’re the best!

J. turns 7!

I haven't posted in a while and I feel like I owe my J. a birthday shout out so I'll just share a little bit.  Every January 10th I get more sentimental than any other day because it was the day I became a mom for the first time.  I'll never forget the moment at 7:25 pm when with one final push he came into the world.  I'll never forget pulling him up onto me and looking down into his sweet little face.  He was so warm and slippery and perfect.  My whole entire life changed at that moment, yet I wasn't really even aware of it.  Ricardo and I often look at newborn pictures of our kids and comment how all their unique personalities are just stored up inside their tiny little bodies and yet if you look in their eyes you can see a glimmer of what they will become.

It's been a privilege, a challenge, a blessing, and so much more to be a mother these last seven years.  I know I've only scratched the surface of what motherhood will entail for me.  But I'm so very thankful that I've had the chance to love and be loved by such a sweet little boy and his brother and sister.  It's truly one of God's greatest gifts.

My little guy at a few days old.

For Laughs Volume 2

Well it's hard to believe I last did this in January!  Time to compile all the funny sayings I posted on Facebook that my kiddos uttered in the last 9 months.  Enjoy a good chuckle!

1/21/12

RE: the catch made popular on John and Kate plus Eight: M: J, You get what you want and you don't get upset! J: No, it's, You get what you GET and you don't get upset! M: That's what I said!

1/23/12

Went to Walgreens to pick up some stuff and I let M. choose a gift for his friend's birthday this weekend. While I inspected the arts and crafts he was further down the aisle with a basket. He strutted over to me with his basket filled with "presents". What was inside? 2 containers of tacks, 2 flashlights, and a packet of stickers. Needless to say we had to make some other choices (besides the stickers of course!) : ) Love that boy!

1/31/12

On our way to school today we were discussing what we would name our dog if we had one, and M. said, "I'm gonna name my dog 'Fluffy the Cat'. "

3/6/12

M. wants to wear a barrette in his hair so badly, he fashioned one out of a paper clip and is walking around with it in his hair!

3/9/12

Intending to deny his own responsibility for ripping pages out of a library book, mistakenly M. denied that he was M.

3/10/12

M. to T. while jamming to his own tune this morning: "Come on girl! Sing it!"

3/30/12

M: Mom can I have seaweeds for breakfast?

I mean how can I say no to that?

 4/10/12

Oh the independence of a 3rd child! Much to my amazement T. managed to get a hold of a container of apple sauce, a knife from the dishwasher, cut open the apple sauce herself, and I found her feeding herself on the kitchen floor! 12 months old! (and yes I did take the knife away from her when I discovered this : )

4/16/12

M. just used the word "gorgeous" to describe a cookie I gave him. LOL!

4/20/12

M. with scissors in hand: "Daddy, the carpet needs a haircut!"

4/29/12

Night 2 of M. sleeping under a laundry basket...At least he goes to bed without complaining!

5/3/12

I love how M. thinks that whispering just as loud as he was talking is considered being quiet.

5/20/12

M. is dancing around the house singing a song he has clearly composed himself: "Jumping up and down! jumping up and down! Obama! Obama!"

5/27/12

Me: "M. be careful!"

M: "I'm carefuling!"

6/3/12

I hear fighting coming from the back of our apartment. I go back there and what are the boys fighting over? A bag of carrots! Surreal!

6/13/12

I hear a shriek and J. crying that M. punched him. Before I can even summon M. I hear him yell, "It's okay I'm in time out!"

6/14/12

Boys in the bathtub discussing their weekend plans:

J: I want to go to the Queens zoo. What do you think they have there?

M: I want to go there! I think they'll have queens, and dragons, and princesses!

6/20/12

M: Mommy I want to go to "Toys are Mine"

J: No M. it's "Toys r Us"

6/24/12

J: Mommy, how fast does a cheetah run if it has rocket boosters attached to it?

Me: quizzical stare

6/28/12

Checked in on the boys in their shower:

J: Mom I'm doing a good job washing my hair!

M: Yeah and I'm peen' in the shower!

6/29/12

J: I lost Daddy's soccer ball! He's going to kill me!

M: Really? With what?

7/18/12

So this morning in the shower I accidentally shampooed my face. In addition to that today while M. was making pizza with two of his friends who came over, I caught him drinking tomato sauce out of the jar with a straw. We're clearly related!

9/19/12

Watch Yo Gabba Gabba while mommy showers or sneak into the bathroom to eat toothpaste? Hmmmm which to choose....?

"I Do it Myself!": Lessons from a spirited toddler.

Some of T.’s favorite treats are those applesauce pouches that they sell in the baby food section of the supermarket.  I didn’t discover these until recently and they are a complete hit with her.  Today I took one out for her and she wailed when I began to unscrew the cap.  Knowing that a complete tantrum would ensue if I actually opened the thing, I handed it to her cap on.  She proceeded to spend the next thirty minutes trying to get the top off her self.  She gnawed on it, attempted to unscrew it with her uncoordinated fingers, threw it on the ground, and stomped her feet.  Every time I tried to take it from her to take the top off, she screamed.  I knew she wanted the applesauce, but she wanted to get to it BY HERSELF!

As I looked at her and inwardly laughed at the mayhem she was causing for herself, I began to think how we’re all so similar to this.  There are so many situations where God wants us to trust Him to do something for us, and all we do is kick and scream and try to the things ourselves.  I’ve done this countless times.  In the end we give up and let Him do it and when we look back on the whole debacle we think, “It would have been so much easier if I had just let God work on my behalf from the get go.”

Eventually T. exhausted her efforts and let me open the applesauce.  Ah the sweet joy in her smile was priceless when she tasted the fruit after so much time trying to get to it!

In the same way I so badly wanted to help my daughter, God wants to lift the burden in our lives of trying to do things in our own strength.  He is our Heavenly Father and just like earthly parents do for their children, He wants to do for us. 

“Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears our burden…” Psalm 68:19 NASB

“Cast your burden upon the LORD and He will sustain you; He will never allow the righteous to be shaken.”  Psalm 55:22 NASB

He wants to help us.  But we have to let Him.

Mommy Guilt and Finger Pointing

Long before R. and I had children of our own, I used to have a pretty good picture in my mind about how I would raise them once I had them.  I was going to be consistent; no would mean no.  I was going to read to them for at least 30 minutes every day.  No sugar, only healthy food.  Limited TV.  I was going to engage them in limitless conversation, answer all of their probing questions.  I had big plans to be an awesome parent!  When I would see parents that did things I felt went against what a “good” parent would do, I did an internal shake of the head.  I had many “I would NEVER do that” moments.

Then J. was born.  My ideas and plans for being a great mother went flying right out the window and J. almost did too a few times when every tactic I had to soothe him failed at 3 am.  I know you probably think I’m joking with that last statement, but I’m not.  I struggled a lot on my entry into motherhood and I struggle to this day.  The mommy guilt weighs heavily every time I do or don’t do one of the things mentioned in the first paragraph.  Every time I lose my cool and yell or say something I thought I would never say to one of my children I look at myself and think, “I’m horrible at this!”

 J. at one week old.  Looking happy, but I was struggling.

Recently a discussion ensued on Facebook by a wonderful (but yet without children ; ) friend of mine.  It questioned the decision of some parents that were recently in the media.  A hot debate ensued.  Did the parents do something wrong?  And all I could think about was how quickly we point fingers.  People without kids are sort of off the hook in my mind because someday they will understand and their perspective will change.  But those of us who do don’t really have that excuse.  We think we would never do this or that.  We find others who mutually agree with us and we discuss.  I think a lot of us do that (myself included) to make ourselves feel better about ourselves as parents.  “Well I’m not as bad as that mother.  I would never do what she did.”  That’s what runs through our head and it makes us feel like we’re doing well.

One of the strongest memories I have of this kind of finger pointing is one that many people would probably mutually agree is justified.  Years ago I was part of a discussion about a mother abusing and shaking her infant.  The baby died.  Most people I heard say things like, “How could any mother do that to her child?  What kind of horrible person could ever hurt a baby?”  They’re not wrong in one sense.  It was a horrible thing to do.  It is absolutely unacceptable.  But is it unfathomable?  I ask this because I’ve been in that dark, helpless place, struggling with depression and a baby who wouldn’t stop crying.  Thank the Lord I had a husband who was right there and could take that little boy from me when it got really difficult.  What about the single mom with no support, who is struggling in every sense of the word and cracks under the pressure?   I will never justify the actions, but I can understand with compassion the place she has come from.  Because of that I’ve curbed a lot of my finger pointing.  I would like to say all of it, but I still find myself being critical at times. It’s something I need God to help me with every day.

When parents point fingers or shake their heads at other parents it serves no real purpose other than make them feel like they are better parents than the ones whom they are critiquing.  What to do instead?

The truth is we’re all failures.  Everyone is.  Only God is perfect and so He’s the only one who can judge the heart and motives of people.  For me, I’m hoping I can be a help in some way to mothers who struggle and don’t have the support from family and friends that is so needed to be a good parent.  I really hope God will open some doors for me to do that more directly.  Parenting children is really, really hard.  It always will be.  We really need to look out for each other, not wag our finger, shake our head and then look the other way.

Our Maine Trip Reflection

We just returned home from a week away in the woods of Maine.  We were essentially without all forms of media and while I did sneak a peak at my email a few times on Ricardo’s phone, for the most part being cut off from all that stuff was very good for the soul.  More than anything I enjoyed two things most of all:

First, the joy my children felt being in such a different setting to what they are accustomed to experiencing was wonderful to watch.  They loved everything about being in nature.  When your city kids get to spend a week in almost constant fresh air you just feel happy.

Second, taking the time to look around me and think about God’s creation was uplifting to my spirit.  The lake, mountains, trees, moss, even the wild blueberries growing outside our house, God made them all.  What a beautiful work of His hands.  Nothing in this world is random.  We have a creator, a maker of it all.  Beautiful things help solidify that for me.  There’s no way it just so happened that way. 

At night the stars were so bright because there was no other light nearby.  We never see stars like that in the city.  Looking up at them I thought, “Lord you are so vast and so amazing.  You created this all.” 

On our way home we stopped along the coast and checked out the tidal pools that form along the rocky shore line.  Waves crashed against the rocks and the wind blew gently.  I thought of the lyrics of this song written over 125 years ago:


O Lord my God! when I in awesome wonder


Consider all the worlds Thy hands have made,


I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder,


Thy power throughout the universe displayed:

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to Thee:
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
Then sings my soul! my Savior God, to Thee:
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!

When through the woods and forest glades I wander


And hear the birds sing sweetly in the trees;


When I look down from lofty mountain grandeur


And hear the brook and feel the gentle breeze:

Then sings my soul, my Savior God, to Thee:
How great Thou art, how great Thou art!
Then sings my soul! my Savior God, to Thee:
How great Thou art, how great Thou art! ...


Originally a Swedish folk melody,
"O Store Gud" by Carl Boberg (1859-1940)
was translated by Stuart K. Hine in 1899.

Be blessed as I was!  Two more pics from our trip:

                                                                             J. and M. checking out the sea!

Wild blueberries growing outside our house.

The Yellow Shirt

"Mommy, Elton always wears the same shirt.  I think he likes the color yellow." J. said to me one afternoon recently.  Knowing the population of J.'s school I explained to him that his classmate Elton might only have one or two shirts.  Unlike his closet full of clothes, many of his friends likely didn't have the same.  Having this conversation with J, was something we had sort of hoped would happen when we enrolled him in his school.  While that might sound strange at first, let me explain.  We essentially had a choice to send J. to one of two schools.  The first school is a few blocks from our home.  It has a strong reputation in the neighborhood and most of the children who attend are for the most part like us; middle class with educated parents.  The other school is in the neighborhood next to ours.  It's a low income neighborhood.  Most of the children are immigrants themselves or first generation Americans.  Over eighty percent speak a language other than English at home.  The school was brand new last year and was near where I was working.  I had met with the principal and was very impressed with her and her vision for the school.

 I think for many people the choice of schools would be a no brainer.  Go with the "good" one.  Go with the school where J. would be able to relate to his peers and see them around the neighborhood.  I personally struggled with the decision and for the most part felt the first school was the obvious choice.  But there was something nagging at me.  More than anything else, we desired very strongly that our kids understood how much God had blessed them in so many ways.  It's one thing to explain this to them and it's a whole other thing for them to see this and understand it for themselves.  One of the things I used to imagine when we were deciding on schools was the kind of birthday parties we would attend.  We already had a taste of our neighborhood parties from preschool.  They were fun, great, but elaborate.  We knew we would never measure up in this area for our kids, nor did we strive to.  On the other hand I knew at the other school there probably wouldn't be birthday parties. In the end after much thought and prayer we sent J. to the school further away from home.

 We've been happy there with the teaching and the leadership, but it wasn't until J. came home noticing his classmates lack of wardrobe variety that we had our first taste of the teachable moments we had hoped for.  The result of J.'s statement led to a discussion about how many people have so much less than we do.  What followed that was better than I could have hoped for.  "Mommy, maybe we can get him some shirts." J suggested to me.  And we did.  A few days later in collaboration with his teacher J. brought Elton a bag of new shirts.  He knew not to tell him who they were from or to tell other kids in the class.  We explained to him that more important than anyone knowing he had done it, was knowing that God was pleased with him.  I am so thankful he had the opportunity to be a blessing to a friend and to know he was.   J. was able to tangibly understand this verse, "And do not forget to do good and to share with others, for with such sacrifices God is pleased." (Hebrews 13:16 NIV84). I'm sure there could be many other ways we could have taught him this, but his experience in school allowed God to orchestrate the lesson for him and I'm glad for that.

Paper Cuts

My oldest son J. started sucking his thumb when he was 3 months old.  Can I tell how sweet it is to see a little baby chomping on their tiny thumb?  Honestly R. And I were both thumb suckers as kids so it was really no surprise to us to end up with a thumb loving child.  As the years passed and the thumb sucking did not, we began to think of ways to help him quit the habit.  We tried band aids but he would just pull them off when he wanted a suck.  We tried hot sauce.  We tried rewards.  We tried threats.  We read him a book called "Jake's Best Thumb" about a boy who finally realizes he doesn't need his thumb.  Nothing worked.

 Recently J. turned six and began to want to stop sucking his thumb a little bit.  But as with any habit or addiction, it's not that easy. He was just so used to doing it that he couldn't will himself to stop.  We encouraged him to pray and ask God to help him. And he did.  Every night at bed time he always said, "...and Jesus make me not suck my thumb."  The thumb sucking still did not wane.  He became frustrated.  "I pray and ask God to make me stop, but He doesn't.".  We explained to him that God would not make him stop, but he could ask God to help him and then he needed to do his part and make an effort.  It sort of seemed to go in one ear and out the other and the thumb sucking continued.

 Then a few days ago an interesting thing happened.  J was reading a book and somehow managed to get a deep paper cut on the sucking thumb.  He begged for a bandaid and I obliged.  The evening went on and the kids got ready for bed.  After I left them in their room, I was sitting out on the couch.  Suddenly J. called out from his bed.  "Hey Mommy!  I have a bandaid on my thumb and now I can't suck it!". He seemed very happy about this.  The next morning he proudly came out of his room.  "I didn't suck my thumb at all!" he said with his face glowing.  Later as we drove to school I told him, "You see J., you prayed that God would help you stop sucking your thumb and He gave you a paper cut.  At first you were upset about the paper cut but now you can see how God used it to help you stop sucking your thumb!  Sometimes God answers us but it's not how we expect He will". J. Smiled at me.  "Yup!  That's right Mommy!"

 I can't help but see how this story can apply to us all.  How many times in life do we pray and ask God to intervene in a situation, but have a clear idea in our own mind of HOW He should answer us?  Then when He gives us our own paper cut we don't see it as an answer to that prayer.  We might grumble or think God has still failed to work in our situation.  Only later with some time and perspective are we able to see how God was using the paper cut to answer our prayer.  My prayer today for myself and for all of us is that we would recognize God in the paper cut and thank Him for it!

 'Call to me and I will answer you. I'll tell you marvelous and wondrous things that you could never figure out on your own.' (Jeremiah 33:3 MSG)

J.'s Angry Birds Obsession

J. recently began to love the game Angry Birds just a little bit too much for our comfort level.  Those of you who are my Facebook friends, you have seen my status updates!  He was only allowed to play on the weekends, but during the week it became all that he talked about.  He strategized moves, discussed the roles of the various birds, and even drew depictions of the different levels on his dry erase easel.  As a former teacher, I have always been very wary of video games as I have seen them sap the creativity out of my students.  However, I do believe all things can be good in moderation, so we downloaded the game. He was thrilled!  Over the last two weeks he has played it every chance he was allowed to.  Unfortunately the obsession we saw that he had to play it, coupled with some instances of bad behavior led us to delete the game today.

The hysterics that ensued were both a little comical and sad to watch.  At first he started crying just a little, but as the reality set in that the game was not just on temporary sabbatical but gone for good, he began to wail.  Wailing was followed by begging, and after begging the threats ensued.  He told us, "I will never do anything else ever again!", then "You're hurting my heart!" and finally,  "I am never doing anything for YOU ever again!" More sobbing followed when there was no promise of his game being returned.

Watching J. deal with the loss of his beloved game began to remind me of how we can respond sometimes when God either removes something from our lives that is not good, or presses us to give it up ourselves.  After all He is our father and we are His children.  If He determines that something is unhealthy for us or that we are headed down the wrong path, it shouldn't surprise us when He disciplines us.  He does that out of love.  But just like my sweet J., we don't always see it that way; at least not at first.  Sometimes we respond to God's discipline by kicking and screaming.  But when we look back in retrospect, we can see why He stepped in when He did.

 I like the way this version of the bible describes how God disciplines His children: 

 "So don't feel sorry for yourselves. Or have you forgotten how good parents treat children, and that God regards you as his children? My dear child, don't shrug off God's discipline, but don't be crushed by it either. It's the child he loves that he disciplines; the child he embraces, he also corrects. God is educating you; that's why you must never drop out. He's treating you as dear children. This trouble you're in isn't punishment; it's training, the normal experience of children. Only irresponsible parents leave children to fend for themselves. Would you prefer an irresponsible God? We respect our own parents for training and not spoiling us, so why not embrace God's training so we can truly live? While we were children, our parents did what seemed best to them. But God is doing what is best for us, training us to live God's holy best. At the time, discipline isn't much fun. It always feels like it's going against the grain. Later, of course, it pays off handsomely, for it's the well-trained who find themselves mature in their relationship with God." (Hebrews 12:5-11 THE MESSAGE)

 I hope someday J. will understand that we took the game away from him because we love him.  While his happiness is important to us, it is not the only thing we are striving for in raising him. We hope to teach him qualities of good character, patience, compassion, and submission, among other things.  God loves us even more and our happiness is not His main objective.  His main objective is to transform us into His likeness.  And He does this sometimes by taking things away.  Jesus says, "...and every branch that bears fruit, He prunes it so that it may bear more fruit." (John 15:2 NASB). Pruning means cutting off and taking away, so that a plant can grow healthily.  We are just like plants.  We need to let Him prune us so that we can grow strong in our faith and develop all the qualities in ourselves that we see in Him.      

Reflections on Being Home Bound

I get stir crazy very easily.  A day spent at home entirely in our apartment is enough to drive me batty.  Go figure that our household is now on day 16 of probably the worst sickness we've ever had.  I'm missing normalcy quite a bit. I'm a little down that another Sunday will likely pass and I won't be at church, no play dates with friends, a canceled birthday party, and a lot of time lying around.  So if from the confines of our quarantined apartment I can write something that might be encouraging to even just one person, I would be very pleased right now.

 I'm currently sitting on our bed typing on my IPad with one finger while softly patting the back of a very feverish 10 month old little girl who is lying next to me.  I probably haven't had more than a few hours of sleep in the past 16 nights and likely can't kick this illness for myself due to that fact.  I am going to be very transparent here and talk about how I've spent a great deal of time as a wife and mother mourning the life I had before I took on these roles.  Interestingly enough I have always longed to be both, but quickly found a lot of "grass is always greener on the other side" moments to second guess my decision.  Never did I resent being a wife and mother more than when I was sick and sleep deprived. Hence why I have chosen now to discuss these topics.  Why put myself out there about this?  Well I would venture to guess many of us have been there at one time or another and might be able to relate.

 For me when J. Was born 6 years ago I had a bit of a crisis in the realization that life would never be the same.  "My life is over!", I said to myself which can be translated in first time mom talk for, "I'm feeling very overwhelmed!".  I became resentful of every hour of lost sleep and every minute of time that was once allotted for myself, now being poured into my new baby.  Every month that went by I learned to adapt and adjust, but I honestly can't say that I loved it or that my attitude changed as a whole. I'm really sad to say that this attitude of mine went on through the birth of all three of my kids.  I'm not saying that I haven't had a lot of amazing and wonderful moments and I've certainly learned a lot about being a wife and a mother.   There have been many joys.  However a few months ago I began to realize that because of my attitude I was missing out on some very important things.  Forgive me, as I am certain that there are many of you who have long understood my recent revelations, but they have been new for me so I'm going to share them.

 First, God began to remind me that this life is not meant to be easy.  Challenges and trials are supposed to be part of our walk on this earth.  We are meant to take them to Him and gain our strength from Him.  "That is why, for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong." (2 Corinthians 12:10 NIV84). I actually really like this version, "Now I take limitations in stride, and with good cheer, these limitations that cut me down to size-abuse, accidents, opposition, bad breaks. I just let Christ take over! And so the weaker I get, the stronger I become." (2 Corinthians 12:10 MSG). So  I missed a lot of sleepless night opportunities to take my exhaustion to Him and gain His strength.

 Second, I started to realize how being a mother and a wife are each unique opportunities to understand God's love for us better.  He loves us selflessly, not because of what we have done for Him.  As a wife and mom I get daily opportunities to love my family in the same way.

 Lastly and I think most importantly for me, God has helped show me that the purpose of my life is not all about me.  Having children is helping me understand this.  Before getting married and having my kids I could do what I wanted, make my own decisions, focus on myself.  But married or single, with children or without, we shouldn't have this attitude.  The bible says "You are not your own.  You were bought at a price." (1Corinthians 6:19b, 20a NIV84). My focus shouldn't be when am I going to get more time for myself.  It should be on serving Him in any way He wants me to.  For me this starts at home.  It means not getting sleep for 16 days because someone needed me to rock them or give them medicine.  It means getting up even when I'm sick and driving J. to school and making his birthday cupcakes.  It means coming home and making R. breakfast even though I want to fall over exhausted because he was up all night too and he needs nourishment to get him through the day.  It means a lot of sacrificing.  And that is how God perfectly designed it.  He did it so we would understand the love He has for us.  After all no sacrifice we will ever make can compare to the one He made for us on the cross.

 With this new perspective I have found two of the most amazing things even in exhaustion and sickness.  One is called Joy.  The other is called Peace.  And you know what?  I wouldn't trade these two things for all the "me" time in the whole world.