"let's go get him", he used to say. when brooks was tiny. when everything was new. we would go get him in the middle of the night, just to hold him and watch him sleep. he was so little, he wouldn't even wake up. we hadn't done it in so long.
"let's go get him", he said last night. "absolutely not", i said. and then, "oh yes, let's" as my better judgment left in favor of enjoying the important moments. i scooped him up, thomas blanket and all. as i carried him to our bed, he mumbled "my bed....want my bed." i smiled as he settled down between us on our pillows. his little mouth that used to make the tiny "o", his arms askew. he's bigger now, but still the same in many ways. we watched him for a few minutes, breathed our prayers of thankfulness.
as i put him back in his bed, he asked for a song. twinkle, twinkle. i sang. he slept. thomas kept him warm. i kissed his warm cheek, smelled his brooks smell, nuzzled my face in his hair. "night, night mommy." night, night brooks. momma loves you.
Tuesday, March 4, 2014
my windows
we have started singing in our church choir.
for me, singing and music are like home. i grew up with parents who were (and still are) involved in music ministry at every church we ever attended. i have memories of waking up to Christian music and hearing my parents singing and playing the piano. it's always been a part of my life, and is something i have grown to love and enjoy. frequently, God speaks to me through song lyrics and even simply through the beauty of melody and harmony. i love hearing voices sing and instruments play. i sing throughout the day, in my car and around the house. i sang to brooks during my pregnancy, and he seems to love singing and dancing.
jeremy and i have never been in choir together as a couple, so this has been a fun experience for us. i am enjoying watching him learn, hearing him sing, and talking together about the songs we sing. it's been a few years since i myself have been in choir, so feeling at home again through music is a welcome thing. our church isn't the most contemporary church i've been to, and it isn't quite as traditional as what i grew up in; i think it's a good mix of the two, with sincere people who enjoy praising the Lord. i like the music we do, i'm enjoying learning new songs, and being in choir enhances my experience of worship.
but my favorite part are the windows.
at the front of our church, way up high, is a set of huge expansive windows. before joining the choir, i hadn't noticed the windows. when i'm in the congregation, the windows are behind and above me, but when i'm in the choir loft, they are directly in front of me. because we joined the choir in the winter, most sundays the weather has been cold, dreary, cloudy, and gray. many sundays, it's been raining or snowing. for me, it couldn't be more perfect. i've always loved the rain. cloudy days make me smile; i feel cozy, introspective, thoughtful. so when i sing of my Creator while looking at His beautiful, cloudy days out those huge windows, i can't help but smile. it reminds me of an old hymn that my dad used to sing during storms..."in the lightning flash across the sky, His mighty power i see. and i know if He can reign on high, His light can shine on me. i've seen it in the lightning, heard it in the thunder, and felt it in the rain. my Lord is near me all the time. my Lord is near me all the time."
music, singing, clouds, and rain. it's all home for my heart.
for me, singing and music are like home. i grew up with parents who were (and still are) involved in music ministry at every church we ever attended. i have memories of waking up to Christian music and hearing my parents singing and playing the piano. it's always been a part of my life, and is something i have grown to love and enjoy. frequently, God speaks to me through song lyrics and even simply through the beauty of melody and harmony. i love hearing voices sing and instruments play. i sing throughout the day, in my car and around the house. i sang to brooks during my pregnancy, and he seems to love singing and dancing.
jeremy and i have never been in choir together as a couple, so this has been a fun experience for us. i am enjoying watching him learn, hearing him sing, and talking together about the songs we sing. it's been a few years since i myself have been in choir, so feeling at home again through music is a welcome thing. our church isn't the most contemporary church i've been to, and it isn't quite as traditional as what i grew up in; i think it's a good mix of the two, with sincere people who enjoy praising the Lord. i like the music we do, i'm enjoying learning new songs, and being in choir enhances my experience of worship.
but my favorite part are the windows.
at the front of our church, way up high, is a set of huge expansive windows. before joining the choir, i hadn't noticed the windows. when i'm in the congregation, the windows are behind and above me, but when i'm in the choir loft, they are directly in front of me. because we joined the choir in the winter, most sundays the weather has been cold, dreary, cloudy, and gray. many sundays, it's been raining or snowing. for me, it couldn't be more perfect. i've always loved the rain. cloudy days make me smile; i feel cozy, introspective, thoughtful. so when i sing of my Creator while looking at His beautiful, cloudy days out those huge windows, i can't help but smile. it reminds me of an old hymn that my dad used to sing during storms..."in the lightning flash across the sky, His mighty power i see. and i know if He can reign on high, His light can shine on me. i've seen it in the lightning, heard it in the thunder, and felt it in the rain. my Lord is near me all the time. my Lord is near me all the time."
music, singing, clouds, and rain. it's all home for my heart.
Sunday, February 2, 2014
i was wrong
yeah, you heard me. i was wrong.
my husband was right.
it happens...
it all started a few months ago with a you tube video. we had been talking about painting our front door, but jeremy really wanted a stained wooden door, something we couldn't really afford. i took off that day for a few hours and came home to find my husband covered in dark brown stain. he was wearing a sad little face and looked exhausted. i prepared myself for the worst.
as he showed me the door, my internal critic went berzerk. the stain itself didn't look so bad. the color was great. he had tried to put a faux wood grain look into it (hence, the you tube video), and it wasn't awful either. but there had been some trouble getting things the way he wanted it...so there were layers and layers of thick gel stain. additionally, he had left the hardware on the door while he painted, so that had gel stain all over it too.
of course i didn't say all of this out loud. i think i actually said something worse. i'm sorry to say that my mouth got the better of me, and before i could recover from the fumes, i had hurt my sweet husband's feelings badly. he had worked so hard. we didn't speak for a couple of days, and then one glorious afternoon, he offered an olive branch: "wanna go to home depot and look for a new door?"
bless him. we found a door we liked but didn't really want to spend the money. on a lark, we decided to stop by the paint desk just to see if they had any suggestions for fixing what had happened during "the door incident". dan the man was working that day, the best painter ever to work at home depot, i'm sure. we showed him a picture of the door. he shook his head and started tsk, tsk-ing. as he led us down the aisle to our foreseeable doom, he started getting very excited. "here's what you're gonna do...you're gonna take this door outside, NOT IN THE HOUSE CAUSE THIS STUFF IS TOXIC, TOXIC!!, and you're gonna get you some sandpaper and you're gonna sand the $%&# out of this door. then you're gonna wipe it down and then sand the $%&# outta it again. and after you've wiped it down, sand the $%&# out of it again." i'm not exaggerating. this is verbatim. we were silent, in semi-shock, trying not to laugh, scared to death of what dan would do if we did! after about 20min. of instruction, we politely thanked him and scurried away. one look later, we dissolved into a fit of giggles and decided there was no way we were doing all that sanding. we went home to think on it and save up some money.
fast forward to now. it's been a few months, and the door is finally dry. the more i live with it, the less i hate it. in fact, i actually kind of like it now. it's grown on me. we took the hardware off yesterday and gave it all a good coat of oiled bronze spray paint. jeremy put it all back on today, and i have to say, it looks really good. like...really good!
so...i was wrong. and he was right. and i'm glad.
my husband was right.
it happens...
it all started a few months ago with a you tube video. we had been talking about painting our front door, but jeremy really wanted a stained wooden door, something we couldn't really afford. i took off that day for a few hours and came home to find my husband covered in dark brown stain. he was wearing a sad little face and looked exhausted. i prepared myself for the worst.
as he showed me the door, my internal critic went berzerk. the stain itself didn't look so bad. the color was great. he had tried to put a faux wood grain look into it (hence, the you tube video), and it wasn't awful either. but there had been some trouble getting things the way he wanted it...so there were layers and layers of thick gel stain. additionally, he had left the hardware on the door while he painted, so that had gel stain all over it too.
of course i didn't say all of this out loud. i think i actually said something worse. i'm sorry to say that my mouth got the better of me, and before i could recover from the fumes, i had hurt my sweet husband's feelings badly. he had worked so hard. we didn't speak for a couple of days, and then one glorious afternoon, he offered an olive branch: "wanna go to home depot and look for a new door?"
bless him. we found a door we liked but didn't really want to spend the money. on a lark, we decided to stop by the paint desk just to see if they had any suggestions for fixing what had happened during "the door incident". dan the man was working that day, the best painter ever to work at home depot, i'm sure. we showed him a picture of the door. he shook his head and started tsk, tsk-ing. as he led us down the aisle to our foreseeable doom, he started getting very excited. "here's what you're gonna do...you're gonna take this door outside, NOT IN THE HOUSE CAUSE THIS STUFF IS TOXIC, TOXIC!!, and you're gonna get you some sandpaper and you're gonna sand the $%&# out of this door. then you're gonna wipe it down and then sand the $%&# outta it again. and after you've wiped it down, sand the $%&# out of it again." i'm not exaggerating. this is verbatim. we were silent, in semi-shock, trying not to laugh, scared to death of what dan would do if we did! after about 20min. of instruction, we politely thanked him and scurried away. one look later, we dissolved into a fit of giggles and decided there was no way we were doing all that sanding. we went home to think on it and save up some money.
fast forward to now. it's been a few months, and the door is finally dry. the more i live with it, the less i hate it. in fact, i actually kind of like it now. it's grown on me. we took the hardware off yesterday and gave it all a good coat of oiled bronze spray paint. jeremy put it all back on today, and i have to say, it looks really good. like...really good!
so...i was wrong. and he was right. and i'm glad.
Tuesday, January 21, 2014
amoxicillin and a prayer for mercy: part two
apparently i have a word limit on this blog...whatever...
after my conversation with God, in which He made it clear that i was to wait. and to trust. ugh. i then spent more time in prayer for His help in doing this. it's just not a natural thing for me. when i tucked brooks in, i laid my hands on his little body and prayed that he would be hungry today, that he would want to eat, and that God would bless his body and help him feel better. i didn't go to sleep with any answers, but i did feel more at peace.
we got up this morning, and while i was making eggs and pancakes (who could resist, right?!), The Lord prompted me to spend more time with Him. i got my bible out, and read psalm 130 out loud again. i said, "Lord, this is a mother's prayer for mercy. he needs to eat. he hasn't eaten well in days. i need him to eat. please help me be patient. help me not stress him out. just help! i trust You."
brooks ate his eggs and cheese. all of them. ALL OF THEM. and half of a blueberry pancake.
i'm not going to lie. i cried a few tears of joy. of thankfulness. of relief.
it's a silly, little, mundane thing. but my God cares. and this morning, He had mercy on my tired, scared and frustrated momma's heart.
He is teaching me with the little things. showing me with my little one. parenting is so full of God's grace...but i have to wait and trust if i'm ever to see it. i have to cry out for His help, for His mercy, in my every thought, word, and deed. i can't do this on my own. my husband can't. even our best together isn't good enough. we need His hand, His help. even, and especially, in the little things.
after my conversation with God, in which He made it clear that i was to wait. and to trust. ugh. i then spent more time in prayer for His help in doing this. it's just not a natural thing for me. when i tucked brooks in, i laid my hands on his little body and prayed that he would be hungry today, that he would want to eat, and that God would bless his body and help him feel better. i didn't go to sleep with any answers, but i did feel more at peace.
we got up this morning, and while i was making eggs and pancakes (who could resist, right?!), The Lord prompted me to spend more time with Him. i got my bible out, and read psalm 130 out loud again. i said, "Lord, this is a mother's prayer for mercy. he needs to eat. he hasn't eaten well in days. i need him to eat. please help me be patient. help me not stress him out. just help! i trust You."
brooks ate his eggs and cheese. all of them. ALL OF THEM. and half of a blueberry pancake.
i'm not going to lie. i cried a few tears of joy. of thankfulness. of relief.
it's a silly, little, mundane thing. but my God cares. and this morning, He had mercy on my tired, scared and frustrated momma's heart.
He is teaching me with the little things. showing me with my little one. parenting is so full of God's grace...but i have to wait and trust if i'm ever to see it. i have to cry out for His help, for His mercy, in my every thought, word, and deed. i can't do this on my own. my husband can't. even our best together isn't good enough. we need His hand, His help. even, and especially, in the little things.
amoxicillin and a prayer for mercy: part one
perhaps you're one of those people who pray every now and then, when things get really bad. or maybe your're the type of person who lives life in what feels like a constant state of prayer. or maybe you're like me and fall somewhere in the middle. i'm trying to be more intentional.
i attended a conference a few months ago and got the opportunity to attend some sessions taught by angela cottrell on how to teach your children scripture and how to pray. the short version of what i learned is that i have to lead by example. i've never been one to pray for the little things in life, the daily, mundane things that i guess i never felt like God cares about or has time for. these sessions changed my opinions, as i heard angela's testimony on how God worked through those little things in her life and in the lives of her children. when we are faithful in little, He gives us much... since attending those sessions, i've tried to include more scripture and out loud prayer (where my son can hear me) in our day. some days i do better than others, but what's surprising me is how it's changing my heart.
i recently started a bible study with some ladies at our church. yesterday's reading prompted me to read psalm 130, and to reflect on what it meant to me, what God might be asking of me through it, and how i might need to respond.
psalm 130: a prayer for mercy
Lord, I am in great trouble, so I call out to You. Lord, hear my voice; listen to my prayer for help. Lord, if you punished people for all their sins, no one would be left, Lord. But You forgive us, so You are respected. I wait for The Lord to help me, and I trust His word. I wait for The Lord to help me more than night watchmen wait for the dawn. People of Israel, put your hope in The Lord because He is loving and able to save. He will save Israel from all of their sins.
the first time i read this, if i'm honest, i didn't really think it applied to me. that's ridiculous, of course, because it's God word...so it obviously applies to me...but in my selfish, arrogant heart, that's what came to mind. as i finished the reading for the chapter, i decided to re-read the psalm. this time, my heart caught on "I wait for The Lord to help me, and I trust His word." hmmm....i wait...and i trust... uh oh. that might apply to me. crap. so i read it again, and then a fourth time. i've said before that i'm not good at waiting. patience is not my virtue. and trust is a closely lacking second. i spent a little time in prayer that God would help me to wait and to trust. later that day, He gave me a chance to put my money where my mouth is.
we've had difficulty with getting brooks to eat since the day he was born. there are a multitude of contributing factors, but because he's underweight for his age, it stresses us out and it's something we spend a lot of time thinking about and trying to work on. he likes to eat, he eats a variety of foods, but eats teeny tiny amounts of them. he tells us when he's hungry, when he's not, what he likes, what he doesn't. but he's as stubborn as i am, and with an added streak of two-year old-ness, it's just more than we can figure out some days. he's been sick this past week, and because of his antibiotics his stomach is all topsy-turvy. he hasn't eaten more than a handful of food in almost a week, appears to have lost some weight, and his dad and i just get progressively more worried as the days go on. we keep hearing, "he'll eat when he's hungry", which we agree with, except that he's not getting hungry! so we worry, we fret, we stress him out, we stress ourselves out. we just don't want something to be wrong.
so after another difficult and tiny dinner last night, God brought this scripture to mind. "I wait for The Lord to help me, and I trust His word." my internal prayer went a little like this:
Him: do you trust me with this?
me: do You even care about this?
Him: I care about you. I care about brooks. and you care about this and him. so yes, I care about this.
me: and i'm supposed to wait and trust?
Him: yes.
me: ........sigh......how long do i have to wait?
Him: you just wait. and trust.
me: ok
i attended a conference a few months ago and got the opportunity to attend some sessions taught by angela cottrell on how to teach your children scripture and how to pray. the short version of what i learned is that i have to lead by example. i've never been one to pray for the little things in life, the daily, mundane things that i guess i never felt like God cares about or has time for. these sessions changed my opinions, as i heard angela's testimony on how God worked through those little things in her life and in the lives of her children. when we are faithful in little, He gives us much... since attending those sessions, i've tried to include more scripture and out loud prayer (where my son can hear me) in our day. some days i do better than others, but what's surprising me is how it's changing my heart.
i recently started a bible study with some ladies at our church. yesterday's reading prompted me to read psalm 130, and to reflect on what it meant to me, what God might be asking of me through it, and how i might need to respond.
psalm 130: a prayer for mercy
Lord, I am in great trouble, so I call out to You. Lord, hear my voice; listen to my prayer for help. Lord, if you punished people for all their sins, no one would be left, Lord. But You forgive us, so You are respected. I wait for The Lord to help me, and I trust His word. I wait for The Lord to help me more than night watchmen wait for the dawn. People of Israel, put your hope in The Lord because He is loving and able to save. He will save Israel from all of their sins.
the first time i read this, if i'm honest, i didn't really think it applied to me. that's ridiculous, of course, because it's God word...so it obviously applies to me...but in my selfish, arrogant heart, that's what came to mind. as i finished the reading for the chapter, i decided to re-read the psalm. this time, my heart caught on "I wait for The Lord to help me, and I trust His word." hmmm....i wait...and i trust... uh oh. that might apply to me. crap. so i read it again, and then a fourth time. i've said before that i'm not good at waiting. patience is not my virtue. and trust is a closely lacking second. i spent a little time in prayer that God would help me to wait and to trust. later that day, He gave me a chance to put my money where my mouth is.
we've had difficulty with getting brooks to eat since the day he was born. there are a multitude of contributing factors, but because he's underweight for his age, it stresses us out and it's something we spend a lot of time thinking about and trying to work on. he likes to eat, he eats a variety of foods, but eats teeny tiny amounts of them. he tells us when he's hungry, when he's not, what he likes, what he doesn't. but he's as stubborn as i am, and with an added streak of two-year old-ness, it's just more than we can figure out some days. he's been sick this past week, and because of his antibiotics his stomach is all topsy-turvy. he hasn't eaten more than a handful of food in almost a week, appears to have lost some weight, and his dad and i just get progressively more worried as the days go on. we keep hearing, "he'll eat when he's hungry", which we agree with, except that he's not getting hungry! so we worry, we fret, we stress him out, we stress ourselves out. we just don't want something to be wrong.
so after another difficult and tiny dinner last night, God brought this scripture to mind. "I wait for The Lord to help me, and I trust His word." my internal prayer went a little like this:
Him: do you trust me with this?
me: do You even care about this?
Him: I care about you. I care about brooks. and you care about this and him. so yes, I care about this.
me: and i'm supposed to wait and trust?
Him: yes.
me: ........sigh......how long do i have to wait?
Him: you just wait. and trust.
me: ok
Saturday, January 11, 2014
my plate (?)
ya'll... my boy made this. for me.
what is it, you ask? i'm not actually sure. maybe a plate? serving tray? or perhaps it's just the greatest piece of artwork ever made?
we craft a lot at our house, so i have lots of drawings, projects with cotton balls, and things covered in stickers. i love them all, and i have to force myself to not keep everything he touches. it's torture throwing away his little creative things.
but we have never attempted making a...we'll call it a plate, for now.
we go to M.O.Ps on Friday nights at our church, a bible study and fun group for mother's of preschoolers. the focus of this group seems to be on living a life that glorifies God, which is what i hope to teach to my son. the devotionals are spot-on with where i am in my life and with what God has been speaking to my heart. my child is well-taken care of, fed even, while i get to spend time enjoying God's word and time with other moms. he has a great time, i have a great time, there's food, and sometimes he comes home with a plate. it doesn't get any better.
my mom has a really ugly pig in her kitchen. it's one that i made when i was maybe 5 or 6 years old. it's wooden, with black and white beans glued all over it and a little red bow. i remember being pretty proud of that pig. and 30ish years later, minus several beans, it still hangs out in her kitchen. when i picked brooks up last night from his class at M.O.Ps, and they gave me this ceramic plate he had made back before Christmas (it had to have time to "cure"), i instantly knew that everyone who ever enters my home would see it on display and know how very precious the work of these little hands is to me. it's got little lines all through it that i presume he drew with his fingers. i almost cried when they showed it to me. these people know what a momma's heart needs: good Christian people who love my son and who care enough about me to teach me God's word and help my child make me a plate.
it's my first real piece of art from my brooks. i've been staring at it all morning. it and what it represents are just precious to me.
thank you God, for plates. for fingers that paint, and for the hands that guide those fingers when i am not there.
Wednesday, January 1, 2014
conversations
my two year old is pretty smart. he talks a lot. a lot.
here's a sampling from tonight's chattering:
me: are you hungry buddy?
him: yes.
me: daddy's ordering a pizza. do you want some pizza?
him: NOOOO!!!! NO PIZZA!!! NO PIZZA! NO PIZZA!
me: ok. no pizza.
him: NO PIZZA!
me: ok, brooks. i got it. no pizza. [stupidly...] but daddy and i are gonna eat pizza.
him: NO!! NO!! NO PIZZA!
me: ok! no pizza! no pizza!
him: want pizza!
me: ok buddy. whatever you want. as soon as we get home.
him: daddy home? stay with daddy. WANT DADDY!
me: yep, you got it. you can stay with daddy when we get home.
him: NO MOMMY!
me: you don't want mommy?
him: MOMMY STAY!!! NO MOMMY! MOMMY STAY! WANT DADDY!
me: i'm confused. do you want mommy!
him: STAY! HOME!
me: whatever you say, brooks.
him: [cue tears] PIZZA!
i give up.
brooks: 1 mom: 0
here's a sampling from tonight's chattering:
me: are you hungry buddy?
him: yes.
me: daddy's ordering a pizza. do you want some pizza?
him: NOOOO!!!! NO PIZZA!!! NO PIZZA! NO PIZZA!
me: ok. no pizza.
him: NO PIZZA!
me: ok, brooks. i got it. no pizza. [stupidly...] but daddy and i are gonna eat pizza.
him: NO!! NO!! NO PIZZA!
me: ok! no pizza! no pizza!
him: want pizza!
me: ok buddy. whatever you want. as soon as we get home.
him: daddy home? stay with daddy. WANT DADDY!
me: yep, you got it. you can stay with daddy when we get home.
him: NO MOMMY!
me: you don't want mommy?
him: MOMMY STAY!!! NO MOMMY! MOMMY STAY! WANT DADDY!
me: i'm confused. do you want mommy!
him: STAY! HOME!
me: whatever you say, brooks.
him: [cue tears] PIZZA!
i give up.
brooks: 1 mom: 0
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