You have to say I'm Sorry

I crouched down to his eye level...again.

"Look at me. Right here. Look at my eyes."

He looks everywhere EXCEPT for my eyes.

"Sweetie, Look at Mama. You have to say I'm sorry."

(Every other word in the English language, and for that matter, any other language that has a presence in our home, he can mimic. In fact, he can mimic "I'm sorry" as well. Interestingly enough, he does have a little trouble pronouncing the sentence; one day, I tried a bunch of words out on him: "Sink" "Duck" "Door" "Sky" "Puppy"...they all came out great! His "I'm sorry" sounded more like "I'mss". I quit the parroting act for the time being, but when I was dressing him later, I verbalized my thoughts..."Little man, I can't believe how hard it is to get these pants up over your thighs!" "Thighs!" he declared. My child- you can say "thighs", but you can't say "I'm sorry"?!?!)

He begins to whine and squirm. I reseat him firmly on his bottom in front of the refrigerator. 

"Say, 'I'm sorry', and you can get up. But you have to say it."

In my head, I'm ready to let him go. I'm pretty sure it's pointless. But then I see the sideways glance, and I know, I KNOW, that he knows what he's doing. It has been almost 15 minutes of this showdown, and I want to throw in the towel. I silently ask the Lord to renew my resolve to follow though on this. I also silently express my bafflement at the stubbornness and willfulness of a child so young!

"God, have I missed something? Have I taught him to be like this?"

"Sin," was the reply. "He has a sin nature. But he is still a child. You, dear Mama...how many times have I told you to look ME in the eyes? How many times have you avoided saying I'm sorry to one that you have wounded? How often do you refuse to accept forgiveness?" 

Never have I seen my own sinfulness as clearly as I have parenting a toddler. It makes me wonder how often my Lord crouches down to my eye level and says, 

"Look. Right here. Look at my eyes. I love you. I forgive you. Let's try it again."

With Child-Like Faith...

I was sitting in church on Sunday while everyone else was standing for worship. Normally, I would be standing as well, but Corbin needed a bit of a cuddle while he drank a bottle...it was just that time of day when he needed to take a quiet minute with his Mama. I was pleased to oblige- I don't always get the chance to sit and cuddle him. 

After settling him in the crook of my arm and seeing his big brown eyes look into my blues and smiling down at his precious little face, I was thinking how for much of my life, I've always preferred to worship and pray with my eyes closed- a discipline begun to prevent myself from being distracted, but more recently because in not being distracted by those around me, I can let myself become fully engaged in worship and God has pulled me deeper into His presence in stunning and incredible ways- I've seen visions of glory that I can never fully express in words! It's glorious!!

Lately, however, I realize that I'm spending more time with my eyes open and on my boys- making sure that our presence in the service isn't too distracting to others. 

My thoughts trained back on our Pastor just as he mentioned "Child-Like Faith...". He continued on; I stayed on that phrase. I looked again at Corbin nestled against me. So fully trusting. Looking at me with those eyes. Knowing that I'll hold him until he is ready to jump down again. Knowing that I'll be there when he runs back to me after playing. Trusting that I'll feed him when he's hungry. Believing that I'll hand him the cup of cold water every time he thirsts. And yes, even, that I will be there to catch him when he climbs on the back of the couch and then jumps off! A parent will take a flying leap to catch that little body as it gleefully flies through the air because that child is COMPLETELY TRUSTING- with Child-Like Faith- that those arms are going to be there to catch him when he falls. Believing that my eyes will be upon him, even when everyone else's are closed.

I was challenged anew. Do I really have that sort of faith? The kind that presses forward, perhaps in a bit of ignorance, but TOTALLY RELYING on God to be there, no matter what it is. Food. Clothing. A journey. A move. Relationships. Finances. 

That He has His eyes on me, sees me when I need Him, and even knows before I know that I need Him.

I have a flying leap that needs to be made. I need to climb on the back of a couch and jump- and too often I've doubted that my Heavenly Daddy will be there to catch me before I crash back to the ground. I'm not sure why I doubt- to date, I don't have any broken bones or bruises because He's always been there. He has always been watching for me.

So, moving forward, using this lesson from my son snuggled against me, with Child-Like Faith...my leap isn't from an actual couch, but it's a leap nevertheless, and it will be recorded here. 

Stay tuned!

When Perfect Comes Along

I had a disturbing moment of God bringing me up short the other day. I'd like to think that I'm the only who ever  falls flat on their face in their own depravity... But at the same time, I am ever so mindful that I live in a fallen world, in the midst of fallen people. And so, with an awkward downcast glance, I share this with you just in case you haven't had this same realization yet. Or just in case you need the reminder. 

I spend a decent amount of time just thinking to myself- as a mother to two little ones who can't talk yet, it's one-sided at best when I vocalize my ramblings, so I usually just keep them contained in my head. The great thing is... I can still converse with God in this silence. 

Two days ago, I was silently thanking God for our newest place of residence. I was thanking Him for a place with quietness and peace, a front yard and back yard, and a place for a clothesline (Sidenote: it never ceases to amaze me how my priorities have changed in the past 10 years! For so many reasons, I am overjoyed to have a clothesline! 10 years ago- I could haves cared less about a clothesline...but I digress.)

I was also telling God how happy it made me to see my little Corbin walking barefoot in the dappled sunlight, how great the trees around the house are, and the beauty I see in the rocky ledge. And then I thought/said: "And the house isn't too bad. I wish I could change a few things, but not so much that it's even worth complaining about! Someday, when I finally have my own place..."

"Your perfect place?" God asked.

I smiled in my heart,"Yup! Someday, we'll finally have the perfect place to live!"

"Will you even recognize it as perfect when perfect does come along?" He asked. 

And boom- I saw in my mind's eye all the dissatisfaction and discontent I carry in my heart. 

Why am I always striving for something different, something else, something "better"? 

When "better" or "best" or "perfect" does sit on my doorstep, do I even recognize it? Or do I walk on by, thinking it will come in some other form? How much "perfect" have I already missed out on because I never gave it the chance to be here, now?! Why don't I let "perfect" be TODAY, instead of thinking it's far off in the future?

I'm still having a hard time wrapping my mind around this little house being the ultimate "perfect" place for my family. And honestly, I don't think it is- this is just a short stop along the way. However- if I realize it is perfect for this short stop, then I won't be blinded to all that God has brought our way. 

If God does all things perfectly, and if He has placed us here for this time, then it is perfect.

Raising An Adult

Sometimes the hardest part of writing is getting started. It's not necessarily for a lack of material, or because life is so predicable, or because I'm hiding in a cave- it's more a problem of having too much on my mind and in my heart, and too little time to sit down and express it. That's what happens when you give up your right to yourself and copious amounts of "me" time and take on the title of "Momma". 

On my heart and mind today is the oft-mentioned sentiment, "We're not raising babies, we're raising adults". This is true. But sometimes, the personhood if a very young child is a little hard to grasp- until it is staring you in the face looking for answers to life. Every day I watch as Corbin grows a little more physically, and exponentially more mentally! It's such an exciting time of life for our little family, as well as a daunting one as a parent. I watch this little man and see his imagination growing, his vocabulary increasing, his daring little spirit challenging the boundaries of everything he knows.

I want him to be that arrow that shoots out from the quiver, headed for a mark far beyond what his parents could ever achieve. 

And every day as I watch this little man grow and develop and capture my heart again and again- I realize that I am incapable on my own.  I am humbled by my inadequacies. I repeatedly come up empty just when I need to be full...

But God.

I can't do it on my own. Not child raising, not breathing, not a single thing. But with God, I have more than all I need. 

Daily, I see Him fill the gaps for me. 

Daily I am reminded that He is the Creator of this precious arrow. 

All I have to do is give it all back to Him. 

The Way God Provides...

The other evening I was making supper for my little family, and I stood at the counter, between the stove and the sink, and reached into the cupboard below me. I pulled out some pots and pans- only the ones that I needed for this particular meal, though. From the cupboard above the sink, I searched around for the ingredients I needed, mentally checking them off the list as I scanned the recipe in front of me. 

Laughter from my husband and son bubbled from the other room as Corbin enjoyed his daddy's attention after a long day away. 

For some reason, on this particular evening, I was incredibly content standing there with my apron on and cooking away (I don't mind cooking, but I confess that it's not something that I always enjoy...and I was finding a lot more joy in it at this moment!!)

My thoughts floated back to when Collins and I first got married- after a long process getting a visa to come to NY, everything else happened in a whirlwind and before we knew it, we were packing our lives in Uganda into 1 backpack and 2 suitcases each...and most of it was jewelry and handcrafts that were coming as gifts for other people!  5 days later, we were married and started out our lives together in a house my parents own that had been sitting empty...quite empty, in fact...for about a year. We had the basics, and little more, for those first few weeks. It was not the easiest of transitions, let me tell you! (But not for a moment do I regret saying "I do!" in the midst of it all!)

To think of our lives today, and the gains we have made together- as a couple, as a family, as individuals; socially, spiritually, and of odd particular importance to me as I made dinner, materially- I was rather overcome! 

God has blessed us SO MUCH! We have had to work hard- but God has given us the ability and the knowledge and the situations in which to do that. We have had to sacrifice, and we have had to learn the hard way...and a few times, He let us off easy by learning from someone else's mistakes. But He has ALWAYS been there guiding us. Every single time that I have faltered and wondered if even God could take care of a situation, He more than outdoes my wildest dreams...He has my good in mind!

So you, my friend- if you're wondering if God can provide for your need- call me and invite yourself to my house. And we'll have a cup of tea (with spices from Uganda) or coffee (also from Uganda), whichever you prefer, and we will chit chat and I will tell you some incredible miracles of God showing Himself more than able. 

Believe me- He is good. My God can supply every need...abundantly, powerfully, gently, and in His perfect timing!

The Old Oak

My parent's old farmhouse sits on the top of a rise, way out in the middle of nowhere. If you stand in their kitchen, there are 2 large picture windows that look out over the slope of the hill...a strip of grass, a patch of garden, a lone grapevine, a scraggly fence that borders a pasture which in turn rolls down to the marshy edge of a creek. 

Possibly my favorite sight from the windows- no matter the time of year- is an old Oak tree that stands just at the edge of the marshy creek. I've taken countless photos of the tree, always hoping to catch the essence of the tree that I'll be able to keep when the tree falls. I don't ever remember this Oak tree having very many branches, let alone any leaves. All that is left of it is the skeleton- but I still find it to be the most beautiful and poetic tree I've ever seen. My dad and I will often comment on how sad we will be whenever a windstorm gets the best of our favorite Oak...and we remind ourselves that it will probably happen sooner than later.

I sat at my parents table today, looking out the window at the ice and snow. The wind was howling around the house and I found my sentimentally looking at the Oak and silently grieving the day (maybe even today, with this wind!) when the Oak would be gone. I noticed the branches on the neighboring maple trees waving madly, and the whole of a nearby elm was swaying as if it might tip over at the next gale. The Oak, however- seemed to be immoveable. It was almost as though the buffeting that all the other trees were receiving was nothing to the Oak. Each time we felt the house shutter, the old Oak stood firm, it's bare majesty giving testimony to deep roots and years of perseverance. 

The Oak is old. It is long past it's prime. The life is out of it. But it has a heritage that is lasting much longer than itself. It set itself a foundation that has endured the test of time and the lessons it whispers are worthy to be learned.

How Was Your Trip?

"How was your trip?" 

We got this question a lot right when we returned from Uganda (yes, over a month ago! I've taken long to check back in!)

This was asked most memorably by a young man from my church. I don't know him well, and I don't think his disregard for personal space was any more than just the crowded church aisle or maybe a lack of social parameters....either way, he asked the classic, "How was your trip?"

I've coached people on how to respond to this question. Most people, when they ask it, can only handle about a 30 second reply. And normally, I have a pat statement for a response because it's a way for me to buffer the fact that most people who ask the question have NO IDEA what I just experienced!

This young guy didn't like what was actually an enthusiastic response from me: "We had a really great trip-"

"Oh, c'mon now," he said, "You took a trip and all you can say is that it was great?!"

He wanted details, and I could appreciate that. Given that I barely know him, I couldn't really divulge that much to him though. 

Because honestly:

How do you explain what it's like to introduce your son to his grandparents for the first time, and see the joy on their faces after so many months of waiting to see him?

How do you explain how wonderful and difficult it is to try and talk to your dearest friends about all the incredibly wonderful and incredibly difficult things that have happened in the past 2 years in the space of only 90 minutes?

How do you describe what it feels like to introduce your natural born son to your "first-born" Ugandan sons and see them look at each other in wonder and pure happiness and love?

How can you really tell someone what comes over you when you see a child that you were sure was going to die...and now they are happy, healthy, and loved? They are an undeniable miracle before your eyes!

And how can someone understand what my heart felt when I scrubbed the red soil off my feet after walking Kampala's streets and for a moment could feel like I was back where I belonged?

It's impossible to explain exactly what happened in my heart when I saw my boys in Ssenge, or how my heart ached for the ones that were no longer there.

Its hard to explain, particularly in words, because there are some things that can only be expressed as tears; some things can only be understood in the heart.

Not the greatest photo, but they're all together! :)