A Mother's Fear

I'm new at being a Mommy, but there is one thing I have found that most of us Mothers have in common.  Fear.  

My current fear is of my child choking on food since she will be starting solids soon.  I fear leaving her in the care of others that are not family members.  I fear that this big old world is going to hurt her precious little heart.  I fear letting go.  I fear seeing her in pain.  I really fear letting her live her life.  I don't want her to know heartache or disappointment.  I want everything to be rose petals and sunshine every day.

I know the fear will be about different things as she gets older but with the same premise; that my child will not know pain.  How can I expect this when my God did not spare his own, perfect, only Son?  I think it is also about me feeling good and warm inside...because, if she knows pain, I know pain.  That is the plight of a parent.  Perhaps we complain about the pain our children face so much, because we don't want to feel it, either.  

The Bible doesn't dedicate chapters to the anguish God the Father felt over his Son going through such brutality.  No.  It says he gave his Son, his only Son.  He just did it.  His son had a destiny, and so does my daughter.  I pray God would give me the wisdom, strength and hope that can only be found in him when she faces trouble in this life.  It is not my job to shelter her from pain if that is part of his plan.  It hurts just to type that, but I know she is God's before she is mine.  As I whispered to her a few minutes ago before she drifted off to sleep,
Mommy loves you.  Daddy loves you.  And God loves you as much as Mommy and Daddy love you combined plus a trillion times more. 

Hallelujah.

I See the Hand of God

I see the Hand of God
as you drift off to sleep,
as I stroke your cheek.
When you wake up with a smile
after I catch your eye.
In that hearty little giggle,
when I give you a tickle...

I see the Hand of God
when I think back to my labor,
as you were entering the world,
I could see our Savior-
holding my hand, fulfilling his promise
of a life sent to earth-
whom he knew in heaven first.

I see the hand of God
every time I look at you-
radiating from that doll-like face
is a reflection of the One who made it.
What a privilege to know you
sweet little girl,
What an honor to hold you
in this big, big world.

I'll do the best I can,
to love and protect,
and teach you to do your best.
May I parent you in a way
that others will be able to say,
"I see the hand of God."
as you go about your way-
each, and every day.

Leave the Dishes in the Sink

     Fireworks of fireflies in these summer evenings seem to make time stand still.  I love standing on the back deck at dusk as the back yard is illuminated.  These tiny little bugs light up just as darkness enters.  Somehow, I hear their lights flash on and off by the edge of the woods.  I eagerly scan from left to right and back again with a half grin on my face.  I can feel the peace well up inside of me.  I breathe in deeply, and enjoy the show.
     Little moments like these are ones I never want to end.  I want to bask in the glow of the fireflies that come to visit me.  I want the sense of well being that washes over me as I watch them to keep bubbling up. I want the knowledge to resonate beyond that back deck that even the smallest creatures in this world have a purpose.  Why is it that once my feet step over the precipice back into the house, those silent lessons fade?
     There are a so many things that cloud the uncluttered state of mind the fireflies invite.  Reality bulrushes me.  My mind that was as clear as the sky on a crisp fall day just seconds earlier, is suddenly stuffed with thoughts and worries that mangle themselves into a heap.  Life summons me to get my work done, get my work done within my home, care for my husband and child while I do my work, and give to others.  All of this getting stuff done fills up my time, my life.  Firefly moments are what I hope to increase.
     I have decided to indulge in more of those moments with my family.  A beautiful, unplanned opportunity presented itself recently.  I watched my daughter become mesmerized as her Daddy strummed the guitar.  Her eyes were fixed on his fingers as the chords changed, and her little mouth hung open.  Our family sat in her nursery for those few precious moments creating a memory.  I will cherish that time and tell her about it as she gets older.
     Hesitation knocked when I thought of all that needed to be done that day, but I didn't answer.  I decided to forget about the dishes, leave the laundry unfolded, the report unfinished...at least for a few more minutes.  In the years to come, I will remember the harmony that day created.  I won't remember the house was dirty.  No.  I'll be glad I decided to leave the dishes in the sink.

The Gift of Motherhood

Tiny fingers.  Tiny toes.
Bright blue eyes, and skin that glows.
A gift from above,
A package of love,
Unwrapped every day
in tiny little ways.

It melts my heart to see her smile,
I am mesmerized by this magnificent child.

Inside there flows,
a river of love; only a mother knows.
It bubbles up
with pure, genuine love.
It goes on an on
With no end in sight,
It glitters like crystal in the dead of night.

I am blessed!
Blessed indeed.
In God's kindness,
He has entrusted me
with the life of this little girl.
He has seen in me,
the stuff it takes
to raise this child
that He has made.
I am blessed,
Yes, I am blessed indeed.

Motherhood: Two Weeks In

We brought her home on a Sunday afternoon two weeks ago.  It was a gorgeous day.  I had been in a hospital room since early Friday morning when she was born.  It felt like weeks since I breathed in fresh air and felt the sunshine on my face.  Spring was in full bloom as nurse Christina wheeled me outside of the revolving doors to meet Eric and the baby as they pulled up to the sidewalk.  I thanked her for everything.  She had been our nurse for two different shifts.  She answered my thousands of questions patiently and actually took the time to explain things.  "God bless you", she said smiling as she turned to wheel the empty chair back into the hospital.  I had prayed for nurses like her while I was pregnant.  As we said goodbye, I knew she was an answer to all of those prayers.

We were excited and nervous to take this little girl home.  We set up camp in the living room stocking it with diapers, wipes and essentials since we would spend most of our time there with her.  That first week she decided night would be day.  We were exhausted trying to take care of a newborn who had no schedule.  I was also trying to nurse her pretty frequently since she had lost a good amount of weight since birth.  Sleep, one of my favorite things in the world, became a scarce commodity.  Poor Eric caught the brunt of the effects of my sleep deprivation.  After a two hour nap, he needed to wait 20-30 minutes before trying to talk to me!  Sleep in small doses is better than none I suppose.  Our little Sarah is figuring out the difference between day and night now.  She is usually only waking up at night to eat!  That is still every few hours, but at least she isn't wide awake at 4a.m.

There are certain things in life that you never truly understand until you have experienced them.   Being a parent is one of those things.  I was given a tumbler for my birthday which was also Sarah's one week birthday.  It said, Motherhood is the hardest job you'll ever love.  I use it every day to remind myself how important this job is.  It reminds me of all of the times I asked God to bless us with the gift of a child.  It reminds me that all of the sleepless nights, clothes stained with spit up, thousands of diaper changes and hours spent consoling her when she just isn't happy for some reason, are an investment in this little life.  We have been given a job that is more important than any success we have in our careers.  It is a job we will have for the rest of our lives that will challenge, tax and encourage us as human beings.

Reflecting on my short time as a mother, I thank God for every single second with this little girl that God knew before time began.  I pray for her to fall in love with her Creator and to be a person we will admire one day.  As I go wash the dried spit up out of my hair now, I can't help but smile thanking God for these long days that will one day seem so far away.  This tiny little blessing is growing fast...faster than Mommy wants.  I will cherish every minute.  No matter how messy or smelly they may be.

You Should Know Better. You Were Raised in Church!

Growing up going to church 3+ times per week, I was exposed to lots of singing of hymns, praise and worship and countless sermons.  There were Easter Cantatas, Christmas musicals and Vacation Bible School every year not to mention ministry teams, visitation and Bible studies on a weekly basis.  There was a lot of "church activity" in my life.

With all of this religion filling my days, some good foundations were set and some not so good foundations were also erected.  I realized recently that I still have the mentality that I should know better than to sin or make mistakes.  After all,  I memorized all of the books of the Bible and countless verses before I was 10.  I sat nice and quietly in church.  I tried to do my devotions, went on missions trips and devoted my time and resources to the church for decades.  I really should know better than to be having any sort of trouble with old sins, lack of faith or fear.  Why was I not instantly trusting God?  I should be happy and full of faith all of the time like a good Christian.

I found that I was rebuking myself for having any type of difficulty with belief that God had already forgiven me and loves me.  I was placing myself in another category where I didn't think God could reach me.  Sure, he can forgive the prostitute and drug addict.  They don't know any better. How could he forgive the lifelong, card-carrying church member that certainly knew better than to question God?

I was putting myself in a higher place than I ought.  It's a place that God does not reside.  Peter, the rock of the church, certainly should have known better than deny Christ.  David and Abraham had very dark days despite being God's men.  Why should I tell God, he can't forgive me or help me?  Why should I tell him that I need to get myself together, and then I will present myself to him?  If a godless man can present himself to Christ just as he is, why can't I?  Why must I feel the need to "put on my Sunday best" before letting myself be seen by God?  How silly when God sees us all of the time!

I think I believed "being good" would make me closer to God or make him love me more somehow.  I never saw people at church that were all cleaned up talk about their struggles.  It's nice to know that even though we may cover up the smell and dirt with Sunday clothes, God still loves us.  He invites us not to pretend anymore.  I am very thankful for that.  He will patiently help us truly be clean by taking the time to wash every blemish away until we are whole.  I thank God this Easter Day for a Savior that loves a child who still goes her own way apart from him.  He still calls her home to clean up the mess she has made.  Hallelujah, He is Risen!

The Daffodil and the Rose

For the past three years, March 29th has been a day laced with sadness as we think of the little baby that died in my womb.  Although we are still saddened by the memories surrounding this anniversary and the days following, we have something miraculous to look forward to this year.  Another baby is on the way, and will arrive very soon!

I was looking in the mirror last night at my belly in absolute awe.  I just kept wondering, "Am I really 9 months pregnant?  Has God truly blessed me?  Is this all a dream?"  I guess there is a part of me that is waiting to wake up.  It is so amazing to think that there is a little human being created by the hands of the Father of all...sleeping, hearing my voice, sucking her thumb, and rolling around in there.

God continually reminds me that he keeps his promises.  I worry if this baby will live...even at this late stage in the game.  It really isn't my call.  I know that whether she lives here or in heaven, she will be his.  I also know that each second we have with her, I will cherish so much more now that I know the pain of never knowing our first child.

Daffodils are usually one of the first flowers of Spring to bloom.  When we lost the first baby, I had found one by itself in the woods the day she left us.  I also witnessed a little girl giving her Daddy a Daffodil at the airport as she greeted him when he arrived home.  I believe God was showing me that we would one day meet her, and she was safe with her Father in heaven.

It's funny how the flower theme transferred as we began thinking of names for this child.  We are naming the new baby Sarah Rose.  Rose is a family name honoring a great grandmother that is in heaven.  It is also symbolic of the resurrection of Christ.  The first baby left us on Good Friday.  The rose symbolizes the life this baby will bring.  It is symbolic to me of the blood Christ spilled for us (color) and the pain endured (thorns) in order for us to know the beauty of the rose.

I feel blessed to know I will one day meet a child I once carried who now lives in heaven, and within a few weeks, I will also meet another child whose destiny was to live here on earth.  God began teaching us how to be good parents long before now.  We had to learn to let go of expectations and any right to any child with whom God chooses to bless us.

Although I am sad today, the resurrection is just a few days away!  I can't imagine the pain God felt as he watched his son die a horrific death.  It was all to save an undeserving people.  I pray that we can place God's will above our own desires as parents and that we will raise a child who would make the ultimate sacrifice, whatever that may be, if called to do so.