Childlike Faith

When you're a parent, life becomes less about your own red-letter days & more about those of your children. You wait with anticipation for their first words (which, I fear, for my littlest little is most assuredly going to be "Dada") and their first wobbly, tottering steps. You cheer them on as they lose the training wheels, sound out words, and attempt to do all sorts of things following the statement, "Mom, I can do it by myself!" Though it's unimaginable for me right now, you teach them to drive, watch them graduate, walk down the aisle into a marriage, and have babies of their own (Okay, where are my tissues?). Yes, as parents we have the unique privilege of going through life alongside our children as they experience all manner of milestones, transitions, and accomplishments. As great as those things may be, this past weekend I bore witness to the most special, important red-letter day of all: little man asked Jesus to be his forever friend, to be the leader and forgiver of his life.

At this point, you're either celebrating this decision with me, thinking, "What the heck is the big deal?" or maybe even thinking, "This family is crazy!" (which is actually entirely, irrefutably true). If you're one of the latter, then let's make believe for a minute or two. Let's pretend like there's a decision that your child, your baby, could make that would bring with it all of the benefits that we believe come with salvation. In an instant, your child would have a peace that passes all understanding, peace within the midst of any heartache or struggle or loss; access to God, the creator and sustainer of the universe, the worker of miracles, the compassionate healer, the friend of the unlovely and lonely; hope; the ability to find a sense of meaning and significance in suffering; a purpose that directs his steps and allows him to live intentionally; love that is unfathomable, unconditional, and unwavering; freedom from condemnation for any past or future mistakes; a rich abundant life on earth and an eternity in a heaven that is far greater than anything we could ask for or imagine, where there are no tears, no fears, and no suffering. However I may fail as a parent, I can rest confidently in the knowledge that my son is now-and-forevermore a beautiful, wonderful, child of God.

Wouldn't you want that for your child? Wouldn't you want that for yourself? Friends, life's a blink, a vapor that appears today and vanishes tomorrow. Invest in what matters. Don't be too afraid of offending people, or worried about what they might think of you, or shy, or embarrassed, or unsure of what to say (read: a big fat weenie like me) Be exuberant, unashamed, and bold like my five-year-old who wants to proudly proclaim to his Nana, Papa, Gammy, Grunkle, Yaya, Aunts, Uncles, neighbors, friends, teachers, and the check-out lady in the grocery store, "I'M A CHRISTIAN! HOW COOL IS THAT?" Undeniably, childlike faith at its finest hour.


     
     

Fruit Loops and Apple Jacks

Look at this handsome, fun little guy. 

If you've ever spent any time with Aiden, then you know that from his marvelous little boy mind flows an abundance of curious inquiries. He wants to know what makes jello jiggly and how clouds can hold rain and if dogs can pray and if belly buttons can be untied and if people really get kicked out of places (like by someone's foot). Maybe you've been on the receiving end of one of these questions and you've scrambled to compose an age-appropriate, semi-logical, on-the-spot answer. Not easy...especially if you have no idea what the answer is yourself, which is often the case! I love that I have the privilege of watching him wrestle with the literal and the abstract as he figures out language and concepts and life. I love that sarcasm is wholly lost on him because he chooses to trust people and, most of all, I love to hear him teaching his sister something that he's learned only moments before, as if he's the world's leading expert on the subject. Yes, I certainly appreciate his young, fresh, eager mind, but, admittedly, I don't always give his questions the energy they deserve. Sometimes I get tired or busy or just plain selfish and my answers become nothing more than obligatory responses. This happened a few weeks ago.

One lazy evening after supper, I was nose deep in a book when Aiden asked, "Mom, are Fruit Loops and Apple Jacks good for you? "Ummm...well, they're not terrible for you, but they're not really good for you either," I said, without looking up, as I continued reading. A little while later, I noticed that he was being unusually quiet (in our house, when it's quiet we get nervous because it usually means that mischief abounds). I closed my book and looked at Aiden. He looked at me, mouth gaping, eyes wide, arms limp at his side, "You mean...TV lies?!?" he said in the most astonished, disheartened voice. I gave him a consoling hug, kissed his head, and smiled at his sweet naivety.

After putting him to bed that night, I lingered in his doorway, as I often do with my kiddos, watching the covers rise and fall with his tiny little breaths. My heart felt heavy and sad. I felt like I had taken a hammer and a chisel and carved out a chunk of his childhood. I wanted to be like a sentry standing guard, alert and vigilant, ready to do battle with anything else that threatened to tarnish his innocence. I started thinking about all the ways that the world will lie to him, all the distorted messages that he'll receive about what it means to be successful and talented and happy and of worth. I'll be honest, in that moment, I felt a crushing sense of helplessness. Then I remembered that, for a few more years anyway, Little Man thinks we're cool. He listens to us, watches us, and, for better or worse, imitates us. What an opportunity! What a responsibility! By fiercely guarding my own heart and mind and choosing to live in truth, I can help my children learn to do the same. In his book Abba's Child, Brennan Manning says,  

Make the Lord and his immense love for you constitute of your personal worth. Define yourself radically as one beloved by God. God's love for you and his choice of you constitute your worth. Accept that, and let it become the most important thing in your life...The basis of my personal worth is not my possessions, my talents, not esteem of others, reputation...not kudos of appreciation from parents and kids, not applause, and everyone telling you how important you are to the place...I stand anchored now in God before whom I stand naked, this God who tells me 'You are my son, my beloved one.'

This is how I want my children to define themselves and so, this is how I must define myself. I can't live like I believe that I have to be skinny to be valuable or that financial security brings happiness or that other peoples' approval matters most of all. If I do, then my children will too. Take care, Friends, because little eyes are upon you.    

Unexpected Sparks

The English poet, critic, and writer Samuel Johnson said,

"Our brightest blazes of gladness are commonly kindled by unexpected sparks." 

Let me tell you about one of my brightest blazes...actually, I'll show her to you.

A big thanks to Ginny Daniels for capturing such sweetness (http://www.gbdaniels.com/#)


Sweet Jocelyn Stone, 18+ pounds of snuggly, happy, goodness. She laughs hysterically every time I wear my hair in pigtails and when her Papa pretends like he's sneezing. The sparkles in my wedding ring fascinate her, as do water bottles, car keys, earrings, and pretty much anything else that crackles, shines, or clinks. She'll bounce for hours in her Johnny Jump-Up (parents, consider this a strong recommendation to invest in one). She thinks it's silly to spew black-eyed-peas all over Daddy and that her new big brother hung the moon (If you don't know our story, then keep reading. I'll explain in a later post). She has lengthy conversations with Cora, our Great Dane who is about six times her size. She sees the world through big, bright, baby blues and she makes me pause to think that things are wonderful, too. How quick we are to forget! She is loving and trusting and pure. Being a mama has definitely made me appreciate my own parents in a way that I surely never did before and it's deepened my understanding of the cross more than any theological study or Sunday sermon ever could. God sacrificed His son, His own child, for me! Why has that not daily brought me to knees with gratitude and appreciation? The composer Isaac Watts says it better than I ever could:

Did e'er such lover and sorrow meet,

or thorns compose so rich a crown.

Were the whole realm of nature mine, 

that were an offering far too small;

love so amazing, so divine, 

demands my soul, my life, my all.

Yes, my precious daughter has taught me many things, brought me unimaginable joy, and indescribably enriched my life. She is one of my brightest blazes of gladness. So would you believe that I never wanted her?

It's true. In fact, if you know me well, you know that I've said that about almost all of the really amazing gifts in my life (including my husband...don't worry, he already knows this. I'm not publicly confessing anything here). I naively believed the doctor who told me that I would likely never be able to have children and, for the sake of transparency, I'll confess to being terrified by horror stories of stretch marks, weight gain, morning sickness, atrocious labors and deliveries, etc...I should add that I'm now committed to sharing positive pregnancy and birth stories so, if you're interested, then ask me. I have a few. I was so adamant about not having biological children that it was part of our premarital counseling. I wanted to give Josh a fair warning because I knew that starting a family was important to him. That was one of many moments in my life when I'm sure the Lord was just looking down on me and chuckling. Now, let me tell you a little bit about my unexpected spark.

Surprise! Four months after our wedding, I found out that I was pregnant with a very unexpected, unplanned baby. I only got to carry that sweet little one for a few weeks before he or she (I think she...call it a mama's hunch) went home to be with the Lord. Short though it was, that little life accomplished a mighty purpose: changing my heart. I was still riddled with uncertainty about my ability to have babies and fears about the process, but I was confident that, if possible, I wanted to experience the gift of carrying and giving birth to life. Three months later: enter Jocelyn.

So today, along with celebrating 6 months of little J-Bird's life (Please indulge me as I use the cliche´, "I can't believe how time is flying!), I'm also celebrating all of the unexpected sparks that have turned into bright blazes of gladness in my life and thanking the Lord that,

As the heavens are higher than the earth, so [His] ways are higher than [my] ways and [His] thoughts than [my] thoughts. Isaiah 55:9

Thank goodness that I don't always get what I want! Hold hope, Friend, your current circumstances might be the kindle to your brightest blaze of gladness yet.