Cooper

Two beautiful surprise packages joined our family last Monday, in the form of tiny little sons that I never thought I would have.

But God knew.

When we moved here six plus years ago, we were buying a different house. A house not quite perfect, but we were willing to overlook the too-small kids bedrooms in order to get the perfect public rooms we were looking for. Alas, the contingency offer fell through when our house didn’t sell in time, and my husband, especially, was disappointed.

‘God has a plan,’ I assured him, and he mumbled a halfhearted agreement.

So we found ourselves homeless at the holidays, while I was 9 months pregnant, and we had two toddlers to boot. With a limited housing market and even more limited time, we snagged a good enough house and vowed to trade up later. And just as trade up time rolled around, we learned that we were expecting. Twins. And we laughed together about God’s plan – that not only did He surprise us with these babies, but He knew six years ago that we would one day really need these oversized bedrooms way more than we would need a bigger living room.

My sister pinned this on Pinterest a few days ago and it made me smile. This is a lesson we have had so clearly illustrated to us in recent months. And we have that faith.

In all things.

Jackson was born first, and big sister Annabelle was able to assist the doctor. Boldly she pulled on the too-large gloves, confident and anxious to meet her brothers. The brothers she had prayed for and the Lord had answered her prayers. And confidently she delivered him – quickly and carefully suctioning, grinning ear to ear as she cut his cord.

And then came Cooper – slower, more complicated. A hand in the way, a vacuum extraction, and resuscitation required. I looked up at my terrified husband, nearly crying because he was so sure that this baby had not made it. Purple and lifeless he lay, until the doctor helped God, as Annie put it, and he drew his first breath. And then came tears of joy and relief and thanksgiving…and only then did my doctor – my beloved, trusted doctor – share with me that I should know before I see him that there was something. Amniotic Band Syndrome he called it, and I shook my head unknowingly. ‘It happened at conception,’ he assured me. ’It’s nothing you did or didn’t do.’ He knows my heart.

And so, in the brief moment I was able to hold him before he was whisked off to the nursery, I was able to look at his arm. His left arm, which stops just below the elbow joint. And my honest to God first thought was that he has an adorable dimple on the end of his stump. And I kissed it. And as he left the room, I laughed at the sick sense of humor that runs in my family, which is exactly when Annabelle said that he would make an awesome Captain Hook for Halloween. And Dr. Buck suggested that we start him off with a spork before we go full hook.

These are my people.

We believe in owning it. We won’t be hiding it away or refusing to discuss. He’s gonna rock his stubby little arm, and know without a doubt that he was fearfully and wonderfully made, exactly as he is.

Now I won’t have to worry that my husband will mix the boys up.

I immediately thought of the exchange in Fried Green Tomatoes.

Ruth: I can understand having a funeral for an arm, I just don’t know WHY she insists on calling him Stump.

Sipsey: Miss Idgie says everybody else will be calling him that, we might as well be the first.

I can honestly tell you that we are not upset. Everyone seems to find that hard to believe, but it’s true. We do not want reassurance that he will be ok – we know that already. We don’t need to hear that it could be worse, because we know that too. He is exactly as he should be.

After all that we have been through, with every passing moment it becomes more evident that God has a plan for our lives that we aren’t privy to just yet. And we have faith that even if only in retrospect, we will understand it.

My friend Darcie recently wrote about growing her daughter and it touched me. She grew a perfect Cassidy.

Me, I grew a perfect Cooper. Stump and all.

What Lies Beneath

There was once a movie of this name. I don’t remember what it was about or if I even saw it, but I’ve always loved the title.

What Lies Beneath.

It’s an interesting thought, isn’t it, what lies under the surface of everyone, everything? People and things are rarely what they seem.

At church our pastor has been doing a sermon series on family, and what that is supposed to look like. The roles of husbands, wives, children, parents. Discipling your children has been the past two weeks, and it’s been very convicting. Not because I learned anything new really – I know well the task assigned to me. It is perhaps the most important one I will ever have in my life, and I take that very seriously. But even when discussing something you already ‘know’, it’s important to take a fresh look. To step back and evaluate your job performance, so to speak.

And it’s humbling.

I mean, I have great kids. Really great. And while they are far from perfect – believe me, I know their flaws well – they are are at their core good and kind and decent human beings. They are good students, they know right from wrong, they love Jesus, and they are generally respectful to anyone that isn’t their sibling. And I am thankful for all of that. And so sometimes, it’s easy to let that be enough.

After the sermon we sang in response, and one of those songs was this:

It’s a favorite of mine, and I found it especially appropriate to meditate on from a parenting perspective.

A thousand times I’ve failed, still your mercy remains

Oh, how I have failed! Failed Him, failed them. I am woefully inept, shamefully not the mother that my children should have. They need so much more than me, so much better. They need Him. How often do I fail to give that to them? How often do I think of their good traits and let that be enough, without going deeper? Good isn’t good enough, after all.

Your will above all else, my purpose remains

The art of losing myself in bringing you praise

I’ve always loved that last line. Do you know how hard it is to lose yourself? To really get past all of your own thoughts and feelings and hangups and lose yourself?

From a parental perspective, I think of how my children need so much less of me, and so much more of Him. How I need to lose myself, and show them His perspective. What He wants, what He expects…not react out of how I feel or what I think. How my children need to know our own insignificance in order to gain a greater perspective. How I need to truly evaluate and purify What Lies Beneath my actions and motivations when it comes to raising these precious lives He has entrusted to me.

I don’t say any of this because I have the answers – for me or for you. I say it because it’s where my heart is right now, and I have a renewed conviction to do better in shepherding my little flock.

With a whole lot less of me involved.

10,000 Reasons

This song has been stuck in my head, seemingly without end, for days and days.

This happens to me now and then, but not usually for this long, and not usually with a song I actually like. It’s generally more along the lines of ‘Don’t Worry, Be Happy’ or ‘Copacabana.’

But nonetheless, here it is, stuck, this song I love. For days and days.

I find myself making a mental list. My own ten thousand reasons.

It’s a task so daunting that I don’t know where to begin and I don’t know how to stop, all the same.

What they all have in common?

Gratitude.

Amen

Ecclesiastes

Ready for Adventure Club (AKA Children’s Church) this morning!

Ecclesiastes 3: 1-14
A Time for Everything

There is a time for everything,
and a season for every activity under the heavens:

a time to be born and a time to die,
a time to plant and a time to uproot,
a time to kill and a time to heal,
a time to tear down and a time to build,
a time to weep and a time to laugh,
a time to mourn and a time to dance,
a time to scatter stones and a time to gather them,
a time to embrace and a time to refrain from embracing,
a time to search and a time to give up,
a time to keep and a time to throw away,
a time to tear and a time to mend,
a time to be silent and a time to speak,
a time to love and a time to hate,
a time for war and a time for peace.

What do workers gain from their toil? I have seen the burden God has laid on the human race. He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end. I know that there is nothing better for people than to be happy and to do good while they live. That each of them may eat and drink, and find satisfaction in all their toil—this is the gift of God. I know that everything God does will endure forever; nothing can be added to it and nothing taken from it. God does it so that people will fear him.

Why I’m not celebrating

I’m sure you’ve heard the news by now. After 9 1/2 years of pursuit, Usama Bin Laden has been declared killed by US Forces. I watched the television coverage late into the night, with very mixed emotions.

I am glad that he’s not ‘out there’ anymore. I’m not even mourning his death, really. But I cannot stomach the celebrations that I’m witnessing.

Let me say right now that I consider our military personnel separately from what I’m about to say. Their story is not our own. Their emotional attachment to this news is and deserves to be  on a different level. I understand something of their relief and their satisfaction at a job done. Something.

But for those who have done mostly nothing…those average Americans who sit at home day after day, living their comparatively cushy lives, risking nothing and sacrificing nothing…for them – because of them – I feel saddened. Weary. Ashamed.

UBL did evil things. Few would argue with that. The world is probably a [marginally] safer place without him in it…though I don’t for one moment deceive myself enough to think there aren’t hundreds more radicals lined up to take his place.

I’m not sorry he is gone.

But I’m very, very sorry that another soul has been lost.

By earthly standards, Usama Bin Laden was about as bad as it gets. He was ‘less than’ me.

But by God’s standards? He was another child. A child just like me.

A child loved and lost.

I cannot allow myself to lose sight of that, and I cannot bring myself to celebrate something so contrary to the heart of God.

I don’t generally like to hear scripture quoted in a context like this. It can seem so self-righteous, and that’s not my intent. But in the hopes that it might give you pause, or reason to look at this victory in a new light…

Do not gloat when your enemy falls; when they stumble, do not let your heart rejoice, or the Lord will see and disapprove, and turn His wrath away from them. ~Proverbs  24:17

As surely as I live, declares the Sovereign Lord, I take no pleasure in the death of the wicked. ~Ezekiel 33:11

From my feed, Facebook statuses from the past 10 hours:

‘Good News. Osama Bin Laden is in hell.’

‘Wish we had footage we could all watch on tv, Al-Jazeera style’

‘We should have a parade with his head on a stick’

‘Earthquake warning: Bin Laden is in hell and even they don’t want him.’

‘They should strap a bomb to him and blow his body to bits, let the pieces rain down over the whole [bleep] country’

Nice.

Oh and of course the numerous ‘Ding Dong Bin Laden’s dead’ posts. Cheering the fact that he’s gone ‘below, below, below, yo-ho!’

Awesome.

I’m very sorry that this nation, despised for its arrogance in much of the world, will now be making international headlines for our celebration in the streets. Much like they celebrated the terrorist attack that started all of this. Much like I imagine they would celebrate the assassination of our President. And we would be sickened by their celebrations, wouldn’t we? Because it’s evil. Because we’re above that.

Except when the shoe is on the other foot, apparently. Then we’re able to appreciate the differences.

‘But we’re the good guys!’

Right. The good guys.

Who, in that moment, don’t actually look all that different from the ‘bad guys’

Perception is reality.

Remember that while you celebrate.

Conduct yourself accordingly.

We did what needed to be done, but we don’t have to delight in it.

I take no pleasure in the death of anyone, declares the Sovereign Lord. ~Ezekiel 18: 32

And…the job is not done.

Hallelujah!

 

¹ On the first day of the week, very early in the morning, the women took the spices they had prepared and went to the tomb. ² They found the stone rolled away from the tomb, ³ but when they entered, they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus. ⁴ While they were wondering about this, suddenly two men in clothes that gleamed like lightning stood beside them. ⁵ In their fright the women bowed down with their faces to the ground, but the men said to them, “Why do you look for the living among the dead? ⁶ He is not here; he has risen! Remember how he told you, while he was still with you in Galilee: ⁷ ‘The Son of Man must be delivered over to the hands of sinners, be crucified and on the third day be raised again.’ ” ⁸ Then they remembered his words.   ~Luke 24: 1-8

Why do you look for the living among the dead? He has risen!

May the resurrection of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ be celebrated in our hearts, today and always.

He. Has. Risen.

Praise the Lord!

Happy Easter, my friends!

Celebrating Annabelle

I do some of my best thinking in the shower, usually with music playing to drown out the mayhem and destruction taking place while the children are left unattended. A few weeks ago I was listening to a Steven Curtis Chapman song that he wrote for his wife, but somehow the chorus seemed to fit my Annie.

And let me show you

What a treasure you are

A priceless gift from Heaven

To this thankful heart

And I want to take this lifetime

To celebrate you

This child, this precious, beautiful girl, is definitely Heaven-sent. She blesses me every day, in ways big and small. And I wonder sometimes if I am doing the same for her.

If anything I do could ever come close.

I’d been thinking that day about 1 Corinthians 13 – you know, the love chapter. It’s read so commonly at every wedding we attend, I wonder if people even pay attention anymore. I’m certainly guilty of glossing over it from time to time.

⁴ Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. ⁵ It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. ⁶ Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. ⁷ It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.

Annie is patient. Annie is kind.

She is slow to anger and quick to forgive.

I could go through this verse and remove every ‘love’ and substitute her name, and it would still fit.

This child embodies pure, unadulterated love and joy, every moment of every day.

And as I was thinking about this, I realized that very shamefully, the same could not be said for me. Not even close.

This child – this kind, generous, compassionate child – is what she is in spite of me.

I want to be more like her.

More worthy of being her mother.

More deserving of this wonderful daughter God has entrusted to me.

I want to celebrate you Annie – today and every day.

Happy Birthday, sugar… and thank you… for the best 8 years of my life.

Welcome to the World

Every good and perfect gift comes from above.

~James 1:17

Luke Thomas and Ryleigh Kathleen Bridwell – my newest niece and nephew.

I laugh

There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens…

A time to weep, and a time to laugh.

~Ecclesiastes 3: 1, 4