Knock, Knock

It's a little cruel, but this is a memory I'm looking forward to relaying to her one day, so the picture was necessary. This is the second night in a row that she has fallen asleep behind her bedroom door after getting up out of the bed.

Last night, after putting her back in bed so many times I lost count, I closed her bedroom door so that she could not escape the room. After getting out of bed the next time to find her door completely shut, she stood behind the door and yelled, "KNOCK, KNOCK! (bam, bam, bam) KNOCK, KNOCK!!" for a few moments before becoming completely still and silent.

When I checked on her later that night, I found her in the same position as above, but wasn't savvy enough to have my camera at the ready.

Tonight I was.

Autumn Invitation

Dear Autumn,

Your arrival brings mixed feelings for me every year. You're a busy time of life for our little family - days mixed with lots of fun and lots of responsibility, then ending with very tired minds and bodies. The falling temperature is certainly welcomed, but the falling leaves signal the beginning of the death of some very beautiful things that are dear to me. However, you bring new colors of your own to replace the ones that are fading away, and offer many gifts for the harvest from things that have been tended to carefully throughout the hot summer months.

This is a time of thanksgiving, a time for pause to remember what God has blessed us with during the days past. We have certainly been given much! It's also a time to prepare for the coming winter days, to brace for the coldness and the fading daylight that sends us indoors and inspires mulled cider and heavy coats.

May we have the grace to accept the coming changes, and to be thankful for every day's measure of blessings. May we have strength to walk forward as we begin to watch once-beautiful things fade and fall to the ground. We know that every season has its purpose, and that God gives us only what is best, even when your changing winds begin to make things around us seem a little colder.

Thank you for the ways in which you teach us the about the character of God and His purpose for our lives. We are looking forward to your arrival!

The Best Things in Life AREN'T Free

After spending some time with some other really fun couples tonight (ALL without babies of their own...except for a few dogs that think they are babies), I've realized that maybe the best things in life aren't really free after all. I guess it all depends on what your currency is.

There are times I think about how life might be easier if I were single or even just married without kids. My husband and I, because we're still on the younger side of married life, have many friends that haven't yet started down the road of raising babies, and life sometimes seems rather uncomplicated for them. Date nights, sports, even last-minute plans with other friends are easy to arrange, without much thought. Whereas, a night out with E always requires at least a full day of pre-planning, if it's to go off without a hitch (and even then, it rarely does).

But as I sit here tonight and think about our evening, I can't imagine my life any other way. I can't imagine life without the laughter and squeals, and the unbelievably sweet smiles. I can't imagine going a day without those little arms wrapping tightly around my neck for protection from her daddy who is coming to "get her." I can't imagine not knowing what it feels like to have fake tears cause me to burst into laughter or real tears break my heart into. There's just absolutely no way on earth I can imagine not being a "mommy."

Parenthood comes at a steep, steep price. You sacrifice time, money, friends, opportunities, money, dates, sleep, money, events, self, and then a little bit more money. In God's timing, though, when He opens that door for you to walk through, He makes each sacrifice more than worth it. For each time you feel jaded by the fact that others have a little more freedom and flexibility than you, he pours blessing after blessing over your head within those four walls of your life. And the memories we are making...absolutely priceless!!

Marriage vs. Parenting

Sometimes it really feels like parenting is a glorious extension of marriage, something that my husband and I are so blessed to endeavor upon together. Other days it feels like both sides (married life & parenthood) are wearing boxing gloves and are just straight up going at it, like two toddlers fighting over a precious toy.

It's easy to get wrapped up in "mom-hood," and just let the role of wife slip off into the deep blue somewhere. It's easy because I compare the immediately present and simple needs of a one-year-old against the more complicated needs of a full-grown adult male, who "should be" perfectly capable of grooming and feeding himself on most days. It turns me into quite the hypocrite many days, when I find myself at the sink, washing E's dishes without the first thought, then grumbling as I clean my husband's breakfast plates.

Why do I do this? Why is it easier to clean up E's dirty diapers than it is to pick up my husband's smelly socks? Why am I so easily inclined to prepare three square meals a day for E but give mental push-back at the thought of preparing dinner every night?

Every single reason that I can think of boils down to this: the Enemy HATES marriage. He will do everything he possibly can to prevent, destroy and bring deception into the marriage. That's why some days it feels like loving my child takes energy away from loving my husband, why it feels like after a day with her, "I have nothing left to give." That's why some days it literally feels like being a great mom means being a horrible wife. We are so much more at risk of finding fault in an equal, and our Enemy knows this, so instead of attacking the parent-child relationship, he attacks the easier, more susceptible one, the path of least resistance.

From an eternal perspective, though, the best thing I can ever give to E is a strong, secure marriage. Her assurance that her daddy loves her mommy and vice-versa will lead her into an assurance of our love for her, her Father's love for her, and one day her own husband's love for her. It is THE crucial building block for a lifetime knowledge of her true identity in Christ. Even more, it's the one model of Christ's love for the church that God gives to us in this earthly life, a living example of the sacrifice that He was willing to make on our behalf. My marriage is intended to be her best living, earthly example of the love of Christ.

Lord, help! Sometimes I fall so short of loving and respecting and submitting to my husband the way that you intended me to. I know that it is not truly possible to benefit E by sacrificing my marriage "in order to be a better mom." Continue to convict me when I place her desires before the desires of my husband, and help me to discern the times when I am able to strengthen her love for You by choosing him first (as backward as that may sound to my human mind). Thank you for the husband that You have given to me, and for the extravagant ways in which he loves me like You love Your Bride.

Comparisons

"Never compare yourself to someone else...

• you'll always find someone who is better than you, which leaves you discouraged

• you'll always find someone who is not as good as you, which leaves you prideful

• either way, you're dead in the water"

~Rick Warren

These words have stung me quite a few times over the last few days, as I've found myself at the mercy of both of these extremes. My hair, my body type, my house, my car, my husband, my child, my dog, my life...the list goes on and on.

I wonder how Jesus dealt with these things while here on planet Earth. I know that He was faced with these same temptations, as He walked along: prideful, wealthy Pharisees on one side and handicapped, ravaged beggars on the other. I mean, He is fully and completely God, but He was also fully and completely human too - and I have to believe that this temptation to compare visited him more than once while serving the humanity around him.

But even in His temptation, He could not, would not, fail. One could simply say that it was because He was God, and God could not fail. From a different angle, one could also see that because He was God, He would've understood the certain death that awaited Him if He chose to give into the temptations He faced, and therefore He would not fail.

Our God, in the human form of Jesus Christ for a time, knows so perfectly well our human condition. He knows the trials we face. He knows our ungrateful, entitled, prideful flesh patterns better than even we know them ourselves, which is ultimately why He had to come to earth. Without him, we would forever be stuck on a link the chain of life, always with someone in better circumstances than ourselves, always with somebody in worse - and these would be the only things in life to measure our "progress." Thank God he has offered us life outside of that road to death, a life that begins with an intimate relationship with Jesus Christ, the One who knows our humanness and loves us more than life...literally!!!

Look Alike

One comment I usually get when E and I are out and about is, "She's so cute...Wow, she must really look like her daddy." Which is fine and all...I get to take that home and tell her daddy what a cute little girl he apparently makes. :)

However, I'm starting to get a little jealous, seeing as how I am the one who spent the whole first nine months making her. So, I did a little fishing around at my last visit to my parent's home, and I was pleasantly surprised! For the record, minus the dark brown hair, I think she really does look like me at this age, if even just a little.

Some Summertime Fun

A Busy Day

I've had a rather busy day, wearing lots of hats, sometimes more than one at once. Typically, this kind of pace feeds my inner "Lion," and I become a very productive, if maybe a bit antisocial, wife/mom/worker.

In His perfect timing, God laid a book in my hands this morning, a very unexpected gift from a coworker and friend. As I drove down the road, I opened it up to the Foreword to peek at it (oh...the irony of this scene), and this is what I read:

"Forcing ourselves to deny the exacting toll such a hurry-up lifestyle takes on us, we are reluctant to face the hard fact that being busy is not a satisfactory substitute for being holy. On the contrary, racing through one week after another at breakneck speed leads to tragic consequences - shallow roots and superficial fruit. Worst of all, God gets only the leftovers because we formed the bad habit of operating on spiritual 'empty'." ~Chuck Swindoll, Foreword to Ken Gire's "Intimate Moments with the Savior"

Hello, conviction.

Right after that, I had the thought, "Ok, J, now that you have had this awesome revelation, what are you going to do about it?"

Hello, conviction #2.

Because right after having the former thought, I heard a another (wiser) voice saying, "Yeah, J, what are you going to do about it, huh? Look around...aren't you right where you are because of your doing? How about letting Me do it for a little while? Remember when I said, 'take My yoke upon you, and learn from Me, J'? You know I said that only because I love you and because I know what's best for you..."

Just Five Minutes

I've been noticing a trend lately, well maybe two trends. The first one is E's growing desire for a playmate. The second corresponds to the first, in the sense that I have found myself saying "no" to her way more often than I want to.

I've been observing this over the past couple of weeks, and decided to play out some sage advice from my friend, M. A few weeks ago, we were talking about our kiddos, and she mentioned that if she or her husband will give their child "just five minutes" of their attention to play with the toy of choice, they can then walk away and he will keep playing with whatever they started together.

So...I've been trying this the past couple of days with HUGE success. Not only am I able to say "no" a lot less often (and still get the dishes into the dishwasher!), but E is learning to play independently for longer and longer spans of time. Today I even watched as she replaced my "spot" with Tigger and Pooh once I'd vacated ("You sit there, you sit there."). So precious.

There are so many lessons that I am learning from great moms and wives that have gone before me. I offended my own mom the other day by calling her "old" (which she is everything but that in spirit), yet I am thankful that she is full of incredibly wise advice only gained through years of experience. :) I often do not intentionally seek out relationships with other women, so it's been - without a doubt - God's sovereign hand that has led me under the wings of these women. And today, I am truly thanking God for them (ol' ma included!).

Dress-Up

One of the most enjoyable frivolities about having a little girl has got to be playing countless games of dress-up. I was looking back on random photos over the past year and a half, and decided a few would be worth remembering in the years to come, if for no reason other than a great laugh!

Heavy Hearts

I've been rather addicted to Facebook these past few days, following several friends with young ones in the hospital. It's kind of got me in a little bit of a funk, I think.

It makes me wonder about the path that God has each of us on. What is it about staring at your helpless little babe, wrapped up in hospital tubing, that is necessary for knowing God? Why does all the world turn upside down when the flesh of your flesh begins to cry? How did God do it? How did He give up the one thing that I would never, ever, not in a million trillion years, sacrifice for someone else, much less someone else that would never be as perfect my one and only? How did He stay His hand from reaching down and grabbing hold of Jesus as he hung on the cross yelling, "My God, My God, why have you abandoned me?"

I am glad He is God and I am not. He knows when I do not know. He is able when I am not able. He does it when I can't do it. He loves when I do not even know where to begin and keeps on loving even when I fall short.

The Proposal

My guy proposed to me on Grandfather Mountain in August of 2004, only six days after he flew home a from a two-month mission trip to Kenya.

He bought my ring from a jeweler in Africa. From the way he tells it, he wasn't really quite sure the whole deal was going to go down until the moment he actually had the ring in his hand (scary!). The stone he chose for the ring, Tanzanite, comes from Tanzania, Africa, and has some rare qualities to it that he felt truly symbolized God's workings in our relationship, the foremost of which was the process by which Tanzanite becomes beautiful. In its raw state, Tanzanite is typically a reddish brownish, unattractive ore. The skilled artisan, though, can take this ore and pass it through red-hot flames to burn away the impurities, revealing the blue violet gem that is considered so rare and pure.

So on August 5th, 2004, my guy took me high up on a mountain, served me a meal, washed my feet, told me many things that he had been storing up in his heart for two months while in Kenya, pulled out this perfectly-symbolic ring, and waited. And waited. And waited.

And I waited. And waited. And waited.

And it occurred to one of us somewhere along the way, that I was actually waiting for the real, live question, you know, "Will...you...marry...me?"

He had really gotten so nervous that he forgot to actually "pop the question!" I, being equally as anxious about it all, didn't know how to prompt him to do so without risking messing the whole thing up. It was incredibly awkward and hilarious all at the same time, but somewhere in the midst of all of that I did manage to say yes. :)

-----------

I sent him a quick text to remind him today of this moment five years ago, and asked him if marriage has been the "hardest thing he's ever loved" - a question I sometimes ask people when they've devoted their love to something or someone that is incredibly challenging, such as foster parenting or a prodigal child. Without skipping a beat, he texted right back, "Not hard to love, but loved harder than anything I ever have." What a man! (And, oh how true...)

Thrillers

So...my husband got a movie for us to watch tonight. A thriller. With creepy whispering people that hid in the shadows wearing black cloaks.

I don't do well with thrillers. Or creepy whispering people. As it stands at this very moment, my husband is watching the movie and describing the scenes to me while I blog, surf the internet, and try to do everything but watch. Just turn the movie off, you say? Yeah, but then my mind doesn't have closure - a desperately important piece in order for me to not continue thinking about the illogical plot of this horrid movie.

I'm physically bothered by movies like these - they stir questions deep within my heart of why we humans even think about things like aliens, armageddon-like events, and people with impossibly-wicked lives. Superhero movies, as redeeming as they can be on most occasions, tend to also drift into this realm for me sometimes.

One thing this movie definitely has reminded me of is the uncertainty of tomorrow. How I can't take for granted any single, precious moment I am given with those I love. How absurd it is to store up earthly treasures simply for my future gain. How I am called to obedience for the task that He has given to me today. How God is in control of it all. How He is calling me to put my trust in Him and Him alone.

Quarantined

Although I deal with allergies almost year-round, true sickness visits me very rarely. I'm very blessed with my health, but like most people, take it way too much for granted.

Well, I've been in the bed, literally sleeping, for the past 19 hours. My husband, who is gearing up for a triathlon this weekend, slept on the couch last night, hoping and praying that the sickness will pass him over this time.

It's definitely been a great reminder to me of some things that I am thankful for that I don't always attribute to God's mighty hand.

"In ordinary life we hardly realize that we receive a great deal more than we give, and that it is only with gratitude that life becomes rich." ~Dietrich Bonhoeffer

Toe to Toe

During the first year of marriage, I cried...a lot. I was young (22), fresh out of college, new in my career, and ready to have somebody to curl up next to every night and scare away the boogie man. I was not ready for smelly laundry, three times the grocery bill, and not being able to leave our pint-sized loft apartment every time I got mad.

Really bad communication skills (me) + unbearably high expectations of what a husband should do and shouldn't do (me again) = lots of crying (once again, me).

Tonight I was reminded tonight of how very far God has redeemed us from that pit. With the guidance of some really incredible married folks, lots of prayer, time, the iMarriage series by Andy Stanley, and the supernatural patience of my husband, we have come a really long way. He still has really smelly socks, and I still am uncovering hidden, self-serving expectations in my heart. But in the midst of all that, God drops nights like tonight in our laps - nights where we sit toe to toe on top of the washer and dryer, and we talk until we're so tired that neither one of us can see straight. Then we laugh until it hurts because it's only 9pm. I love that my husband carries so many incredible qualities, but tonight I just love that he's my greatest and dearest earthly friend.

This is Mine

Well, the day has arrived. A day I knew was coming. A day that visits every child in every home in every country in all the world. A day that has haunted me as a parent.

We were sitting in the floor of the living room playing with a puzzle. I was trying to help, but not too much. I reached out to pick up a piece, but she beat me to it. "This is mine," she said, as she clutched it to her chest.

SSSCCRRREEEEEEEEECCCHHHHH...What?!?!?!

"This is mine," she said again, as though she could read the mangled expression on my face.

I've been trying to figure out why I have such a strong distaste for these words for a while now. All I've come up with so far is the fact that usually these words are offered from a very selfish position of the heart, "This is mine, and you can't have it."

I'm still working on this one, but I definitely wasn't ready to hear those words coming from her little lips.

Proud Mama

I am a proud mama. Can't help it. One thing I have to brag about is how E is learning to choose joy. It's not an easy thing to do for anybody, but it's a considerable challenge for a 20-month-old who is only starting to understand that she will not have all of her desires met all of the time. I think it's an important lesson, but it's definitely a lifelong learning one.

For example, today my husband and I stepped in to serve in a Kindergarten Sunday School class. Fourteen kindergarteners crammed into a tiny room with an off-limits staging area, and you can only imagine the fun we had. At the end of the morning, we were awarding some candy to kids who answered questions correctly from the Bible story (side note: How do you tell a 5-year-old that "God" is not always the answer...when in all actuality, He really is?). One particularly cute little girl came up to me afterwards and said, "It makes me very sad that I didn't get a piece of candy." Her courtesy and gentleness made me want to give her three pieces, to be honest. But I also wanted to see how she would handle the unfairness of not being given something that someone else had been given. From my warped point of view, that's a Bible lesson in and of itself. 

E is starting to get it. We are constantly telling her "no crying" when she starts to turn on the tears because she hasn't gotten her way. Just today when I gave her that same instruction, I watched her tuck in her quivering lip and bat back tears while she willed herself to choose joy instead of sadness over something she was not allowed to have. And this mama celebrated a moment of victory for her little child. 

Truly, there is a time for tears. We will hopefully honor those times that E's little heart grieves. But for those moments when E can stare sorrow in the face and choose joy in Christ over the world's trouble, I will be her biggest fan.

Rubik's Cubes and Reunions

Saturday was a very full day. E sensed the excitement, and was wide awake and talking nearly an hour earlier than usual. We had a family reunion, a cousin's bridal shower, and several house visits to hometown friends to make before packing up and heading back to the Bost home. Add to that my headstrong determination to master the task of solving the Rubik's Cube, and it's a good thing we got up with the sun.

Smith Family Reunion

Uncle "I"

I did it!! (Thanks, mom!)

E & Scarlett

All the Miles

My husband has a job that has, during some seasons, kept him traveling frequently. It wasn't an occupation he had chosen before we got married, as he was still in college at the time. And to be honest, a "frequent flyer" wasn't ever something I listed on the "Top Ten Qualities I Want In My Husband" diary entry, so it's probably divine appointment that I wasn't able to foresee his career before we made our vows. It's been somewhat - well, at times a lot - of a struggle to get used to exits and re-entrys that occur randomly throughout the calendar year, but I feel as though we've finally left the runway and tucked in our landing gear in regards to this particular issue.

Today, he left to travel North, and as usual when he is gone, I left to travel the road South a little ways to my parents' home, with toddler and giant puppy in tow. Only this time, we decided to be a little sassy in his absence. Here's the price you pay for not being here to stop me, dear!

Dollar Dollar Bill Y'all

Like it or not, it seems like I have been living my life to the chorus of this song lately. My husband and I have been juggling a lot of unexpected repairs and updates to our home, with the mindset of getting it more and more "sellable." In September, he begins seminary, and we are determined to do it at a pace that allows us to stay debt-free. Additionally, E's feet and limbs are suddenly growing at a pace that scares me, prompted most likely by the fact that she can now eat an entire sandwich in one sitting.

Everything else in my life runs on a tight leash except money, and to be honest, I've kinda liked it that way. We've never been excessively irresponsible with our money, but "budget" has always been a rather loose term in our house. We drive dependable, paid-for vehicles and organic/natural groceries are probably one of the biggest "splurges" on a monthly basis. We communicate about "big" purchases, but haven't been faithful about a "savings" account. We've certainly had moments of regrettable spending, but - praise the Lord - haven't yet seen a day where we've deeply despaired because of our financial circumstances. Up to this point, I'd say we've led a rather mediocre life in regards to our money.

Well - raise the glass - here's to new beginnings. God is certainly speaking into our lives the need for more responsibility in this area. It's one of those places in both of our hearts that, if left unchecked at this crossroad, will certainly lead to future regret and potential heartache. God doesn't call us to the cross and expect us to instantaneously morph into the perfect Christian, but as He continues to call us into fellowship and community with Him, he works in us a desire to become more and more like Him, one step at a time. Once he opens our eyes and hearts to a place where we are being unfaithful to Him, we become instantly responsible to obedience in that area. This "repentance" may be the one thing that holds people up from allowing Jesus Christ to be Lord and Savior in their lives, but it's also the one thing that brings some of the greatest joy, peace and satisfaction in the Christian's soul.

We've done the budget thing in the past, even attended a Dave Ramsey event early on in our marriage, but now I feel the presence and the power of God in this area of our lives like never before. Trusting that He is going to be even more faithful to us than imaginably possible is no less than thrilling, as I look ahead and see - through human eyes - the challenges that await us in the coming months.

"Now to him who is able to do far more abundantly than all that we ask or think, according to the power at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, forever and ever. Amen." ~Romans 3:20-21

XOXO

E has really turned the corner on her social development recently, and you can see the wheels turning in her head constantly. She talks in completely unintelligible, run-on sentences that only seem to end when she runs out of breath. And she's started tilting her head to the side and waving her arms when she talks too, just to emphasize how important her point really is. Most of the time I end up laughing hysterically, which in turn cracks her up too (which luckily means she also forgets about the fact that I didn't respond to what she was actually saying). This is a really fun age.

She's also learning how to regulate her body right now (for example, how to gently pat a kitten), and I am constantly using the phrase "be sweet" to remind her to use a soft touch with things that are fragile. Apparently, somewhere along the way, "be sweet" became synonymous with "kissing" and "hugging," as you can see (all of these poses were inspired by me reminding her to "be sweet"):

Her daddy and I are on the benefiting end of all these hugs and kisses too, and I've got quite a few memories from the past few days that I want to bottle up and keep forever. I'm looking forward to being able to have a real conversation with her one day, but it's hard to imagine a day when "being sweet" won't have such a child-like innocence.

It's About Me?

I learned a life-changing lesson a few weeks ago through my friend C. She had been going through some really difficult days, and I was just doing my best to keep up while watching a scene straight from the days of King Nebuchadnezzer as Jesus miraculously walked through the fire with her, both of them unbound and unharmed.

One day, in the midst of all of the fire, she looked at me and said, "You know, if God has you in the middle of something, you'd better believe it is because He wants to deal with you. Even if you are there by no fault of your own (so you think), it doesn't matter. He purposes every single one of your steps. Even when you think He has you in a place to minister His love to someone else, you'd better be waiting for Him to smack You across the head with the change He is about to do in you."

What truth! Seriously, don't you ever wonder what God had to say to Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego when they were walking around in the fire? I seriously doubt it was, "Wow, guys, you are doing such a great job for the Kingdom here - this is going to mean so much to King Nebuchadnezzer."

But this is exactly the way that I am tempted to think when God puts me in the the fire on someone else's behalf: "God, give the me the patience and the peace to walk through this with __________, because I know this is your will for them. Help me to be a light for them and to have the words to say what they need to hear from you."

Not that this is inherently wrong, but what I realized that day through C was that by having this posture, I am limiting what God intends to do in my life. He is always wanting more of me, even if it seems I am only involved in the situation as a third party.

I can't wait to ask God one day what He said to those guys in the fire.

August Heat

My grass is dying. My flowers need CPR. I have poison ivy that itches maddeningly whenever I walk outside. My dog chases a ball a max of three times before losing interest. My husband went for a bike ride today and likened it to standing in front of a giant hair dryer on the hot setting. E has 15 mosquito bites on her...just from today. My car's A/C is on strike. My hair looks great...until I walk out the front door. I break out into a sweat as soon as I crawl under the covers at night. The temperature gauge at the bank read 100 degrees for the first time yesterday.

August in the South is here, and like always this time of the year, I'm in constant limbo between spending every moment perspiring while watching my yard fade to brown or spending every last penny of our paycheck on electricity and water and ice cream.

Dissatisfaction

After a pretty intense conversation with my husband this morning, I have been thinking a lot about the Godly purpose of dissatisfaction today. There are probably people who would argue that dissatisfaction is from the Enemy, but I disagree. I think sometimes God plants dissatisfaction within our hearts as a way to cause us to seek fulfillment. He knows, in the end, that true fulfillment comes only through him, and He wants to be found by us, but he also knows that we have the free will to choose. Because of this, and because of His incredible, unfathomable love for us, He allows dissatisfaction to lead us - if we choose - to the cross.

It all started with a piece of fruit in a garden at the beginning of Earthly time. Eve chose death, and God's curse for her choice was that her "desire would be for [her] husband." This "desire," or "dissatisfaction with her circumstances," can lead only one of two directions: into sin or into the merciful arms of Christ. Left with a choice, the Enemy's wages war against us with deception and manipulation. But the dissatisfaction was initiated by God.

I am well-acquainted with the feeling of dissatisfaction. It ranges in me from the way my body is shaped or the way my hair looks some days all the way to the kind of wife or mother or friend or sister I am. I am dissatisfied when I don't succeed at my endeavors, or when my husband forgets to take the trash out in the morning. Not all of these feelings are of God, and not all of them are fruitful. The Enemy would have me focus dissatisfaction, time, and energy on the fleeting treasures of this world. If he cannot succeed at that level, he would then take my dissatisfaction for Heavenly things (my relationships with others or with God), and have me take hold of those things, and work and strive and worry about whether or not these relationships are succeeding or failing.

Instead, when God plants the seed of dissatisfaction in my heart, maybe - just maybe - He intends for me to respond by pressing up even closer against him, listening carefully to what He has to say to me, trusting that He is doing a far greater work in me than I can ever imagine. Maybe this sense of dissatisfaction was a play on His part to draw me in closer to Him so that I can carefully walk the path He has laid out for me. Maybe - just maybe - when God cursed Adam and Eve on that day long ago, He gave them the one punishment that He knew would be perfect in positioning them to realize their need for Him and Him Alone.

Lead me to the cross, where your love poured out
Bring me to my knees, Lord I lay me down
Rid me of myself, I belong to You
Oh lead me, lead me to the cross.
~Brooke Fraser

Nana's New Car

Tonight my mom came home from a mission trip to Mexico with the college students from her church. We all went to the airport to welcome her home, and to be a part of the big unveil: her new car.

This is her first new car, so it was an exciting day for us all. My dad did a good job totally surprising her, and I caught a few of these moments on camera.





Yeah, it's just a "thing." But what I cherish (and respect!) the most is how this "thing" is a symbol of my dad's love for her. I'm actually not sure who was excited more - my dad or my mom.

Mom, thanks for sacrificing having a "cool" car all these years so that you could give that little extra to your family. I am so excited that God has chosen to honor you through this gift of dad's. We all think you deserve it!!

Law vs. Grace

E is growing so fast now that it is nearly impossible to keep up. I am constantly in awe of how intricate our God designed the human species, and floored by the fact that I get to watch this miracle of life unveiled in my daughter.

Last night, when I tucked her into bed at Mawmaw and Pawpaw's, I kissed her and hugged her and we said our prayers like we usually do. At the end, though, she bear-hugged me and rolled me over onto the bed next to her, climbed directly on top of my chest, laid her head down on my shoulder, and starting patting my arm.

Now, as a rule, I have been very diligent about not providing myself as a sleep aid. (As a kid, I was terrified of going to sleep on my own, so I have down everything in my power to give E the ability to go to sleep by herself. So far, whether by nature or nurture, she's done really well.) It's amazing, though. All the rules went out the window momentarily, as I basked in the overwhelming power of her desire to be near me.

I laid there with her for a few minutes and thought about how willing I was to stop everything for her. I weighed the law (not providing her with a sleep aid) and grace (seeing her need for security), and realized that in this small moment, giving grace was actually a way of fulfilling the law. By coming down to her level and showing her that I was available to be near her always, I bolstered her faith in being able to fall asleep peacefully no matter what the circumstances. I didn't cancel out the need for her to be able to fall asleep on her own, but instead gave her the confidence that she needed in order to be able to do it. When I rolled her back over a few minutes later, kissed her, told her "Night-night," she was asleep within a few minutes. It was an awesome experience.

I learned a few things last night that I hope I will remember as I continue down this journey of parenthood. Sometimes, in the world of geometry, I'm a "square" if you know what I mean. Having four right angles makes me four-times more right than you are. I'm a stickler for the law and for justice, and I constantly have to remind myself that I am not God, and I am not the one in control of making sure that justice plays out. It's harder for me to extend grace when I see the need to uphold the law as well. As E gets older, I pray that I will be wise enough to sense those moments when extending grace is a way to fulfill the law, and not simply a moment of inconsistency on my part.

MawMaw & PawPaw

E and I are sneaking away for a quick little trip to Mawmaw and Pawpaw's house in the deep south. It's a 5-hour trek from our little corner of the world, so it's not an easy distance to make with a toddler. We went part of the distance this evening, and will rise before the sun to complete our journey in the wee hours of the morning. If you knew my Mawmaw and Pawpaw, you'd understand that even a few moments with them is worth driving a hundred thousand miles.

Mawmaw and Pawpaw are my dad's parents. They have never met a stranger. Though they own a clock in every room that makes some kind of nature sound, they never seem to make it anywhere on any kind of time schedule. They would give anyone the shirt off their back, the money in their wallet, the song in their heart any day, any time, anywhere, for any reason. They love Jesus with all of their hearts and walk in it each and every day. They pray for everybody in the family by name every single day. They use everything they own until it dies a slow and painful death. They keep everything they've ever been given, purposeful or otherwise. They have beaten more games and forms of Solitaire than it is humanly possible to count. They are absolutely polar opposite personalities, except for the fact that they are both stubborn as mules. They are passing on the heritage of loving and believing in and following the Living God. They love to fish. They own an Atari that still works. They are Heros and Giants of the faith. They make the best cinnamon rolls ever. They understand the value of family and community.

They are my Mawmaw and Pawpaw. And I can't wait to see them tomorrow!!

Sweet Prayers

Our sweet little E has now discovered "pway"-ing. Before meals and when she climbs into bed at night, she gets the most delighted little look on her face when you take her hand and say, "It's time to pray!" She breaks out into this huge grin, takes the hands of the people to her right and left, tucks her chin in ever-so-slightly, and lifts her little eyes to watch everybody else while the prayer is being spoken. Then, after the prayer, she finishes it off with a, "Yay!! (clap, clap, clap) a-MEN!! (another huge grin)." Sometimes she even takes our hands and wants to "pway" again. It's amazing, too, how long her attention span can be for these prayers.

I imagine how much glory it must bring to our Great God to feel the attention and awe of child who can only barely speak her own language focused completely on discovering another taste of what it means to communicate with him. I wish I could capture these moments in a bottle and replay them for E one day when she is older and maybe discouraged by prayers that seem to be "bouncing right off the ceiling." If she could look back then and see that God provided for her even when we could understand hardly a word she said, would she then be more confident that God is still in control and still has her best at heart? I hope so, sweet baby. I really hope so.

For the eyes of the Lord are on the righteous, and his ears are attentive to their prayer..." ~1 Peter 3:12

The Best Dog Ever

After watching "Marley & Me," I'm convinced that everybody who owns a dog thinks that they have "the best dog ever." I am one of those people. Except in my case, it's actually true. :)

Bestest of Friends

Careful, E!

Oh...whatever. (After the 5th time she crawled over him that day)

Who needs a pony when you've got Indiana?

Nap time

Granted, they both take part in being the aggressor and the victim. At this exact moment in time, Indiana's tail is exactly eye level, and it packs a nearly-blinding punch when he smacks her square in the face with it (as he often does). He also forgets his 94-lb hulk of a body sends her 22-lb featherweight flying quite easily (which it often does). But in truth it's obvious that they absolutely adore each other, and I just can't wait to see what the next 10 years will bring!

W.O.R.K.E.R.

I'm not really a fan of acrostics as a general rule. Most of the time it leaves me wondering if the speaker spent more time in a thesaurus than he or she did researching the topic at hand. If I'm really honest, my secret idiosyncrasy is to see if I can read ahead and fill in all the blanks before the speaker actually names them, which is understandably a little distracting for me (and quite OCD).

This past Sunday, however, God used the pastor's description of the Willing, Opportunistic, Respectful, Kind, Energetic, Refuge-taking spirit of Ruth in the book of Ruth, Chapter 2, to totally expose the position of my heart toward working. Not necessarily my work, but my husband's work. Put this way: I am a very, very selfish person when it comes to my husband's time. And as I listened to what kind of a "working" spirit honors God, I was convicted that there have been many times when I have stifled this God-honoring spirit in my husband toward his work. There have been many times when his willingness to go the second mile at work has been rewarded only with my frustration and tears that he neglected important duties at home.

I know there is a balance, but the problem up to this point is that I have been the one in control of deciding what the tipping point is. On Sunday, I felt that familiar tug of God saying, "Ok, J, are you ready to allow Me to have control in this area? Are you ready to trust that I know what is best for everybody, and can lead your husband to make the best decision as well, without you pressuring him one way or the other?" To which I replied, "But God, you just don't realize how complicated it is!!" To which he replied, of course, "LOL."

I've got a lot of baggage in this area, so it's not coming easily. I wish I could say that I just handed it all over to God and walked away from it that day, but He knew it would be a tougher journey than that for me. Test #1 came today when my husband asked how I felt about him working on Saturday. Test #2 came tonight when he walked through the door a full 2 1/2 hours later than he projected.

As I sit here tonight and reflect on these lessons, I am reminded of the chorus of a song that I used to sing pretty frequently with our little worship band during college. It's a great reminder to me of the very simple thing God is asking of me during this time: to wait on Him, on His grace, on His hand of blessing, on His love that ever so gently continues to turn my heart toward Him.

"Yes, Lord, walking in the way of Your laws, we wait for You; Your Name and Renown are the desire of our hearts." ~Isaiah 26:8

A Shark's Tooth

When I was in the third grade, my class at school took a field trip to Cumberland Island. For some reason, I have random memories of this trip that have stuck with me over the last 18 years. Like the giant banzai-looking trees that twisted and curled over each other because of the forceful island winds, or the ride we took on the ferry to get to the island, with the wild horses that we spotted right as we landed. The Cumberland Island tshirt that I spent nearly all of my money buying two of - so that my best friend Misty Ford and I could match; then sitting on the back of the bus with her on the way home singing, "99 bottles of coke on the wall" with 30 other 3rd graders (all the way down to 1)...then nearly not making it to the bathroom in time when the bus FINALLY stopped on the way home. I don't typically remember these types of childhood details, so the fact that these have stuck with me so vividly is warmingly strange.

On one particular shore on the island, it was rumored that you could find sharks' teeth mixed in among the rocks and sand, and I eventually found one. I decided that this would be the PERFECT gift for my younger brother. I could hardly wait to give it to him, and he didn't disappoint with his excitement about the really cool gift. I felt like the winning sister, and enjoyed the fact that I had brought him something so meaningful. Later that week, when we were playing with it on some bleachers at a softball game, I accidentally dropped it through the seats, and even after searching for it for the next hour, we never found it.

I was so devastated that I remember feeling sick to my stomach. This awesome, wonderful, most-appreciated gift that could never be replaced was lost. Even to this day, that memory is painfully poignant. It is my first memory of a moment in my life of disappointing someone without being able to do anything about it, and its one of those things that stings a little, even to this day.

Brother of mine, we've traveled a long road to get to where we are today - one where we've both had our share in disappointing the other and also our share in loving on and being there for each other. I'm thankful for the past 25 years of your life that I've gotten to experience, and thankful that God is unfolding His perfect plan for your life. I can't wait to see what blessings this next year brings (namely S!!), and I love the glimpses that I get of the man you are becoming. Happy (late) Birthday, I love you!