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progress revisited.

19 Feb

Seven months ago (minus one day :), I wrote the post below on the subject of progress. Tonight when I sat down to blog, amidst my fill of emotions on a challenging evening, I knew there were words I’d written before that would fit the bill to a T. This particular post was a good reminder for me about being intentional and making the most of what we’ve been given. I’ll share more soon about why this is so significant in the moment, but for now, I hope the refresher is as good for you as it was for me tonight. The part striking a chord most fittingly was this–

Love your heart out. Love until it hurts, until you’re exhausted and you can’t see straight. Love like tomorrow may not come, and then love even more when it does. Love so that everything [anyone] knows of you is filling up and bubbling over with joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control…Love. Oooooooh, it’s the very easiest and the very hardest thing to do at times. But it’s worth it.

Without further ado, progress:

“It’s in the little things. I used to think that moving forward meant huge strides or big, ginormous leaps into new territory, but sometimes (or most times) it’s the small, hard-to-notice steps that really make the biggest difference. This applies to so many things in life…the littlest prayer turns into a daily conversation with God, which turns into life change and spiritual wellness and world change if we let it. One first jog around the block becomes two, becomes miles, becomes a marathon. One day’s change in a piggy bank evolves into a dream vacation, a college fund, a downpayment on a house, savings. And all of the little steps we take to get to such monumental places in our lives are each significant in their own right. Without one step, how can we take two?

I’m thinking about this tonight as I ponder our new way of life with a little one, and as our conversations these days revolve around schedules, structure, finances, our future…Henry’s. When you have a baby, suddenly you think about his or her future more than your own. And life choices feel more significant because you’re making them for more than just you; for more than just you and your spouse and your future together for the next however many years. Now, I think about Henry and the generations after him. I think about things like diapers in landfills (insignificant in the grand, Kingdom scheme) and generational sin (HUGELY significant where the Kingdom’s concerned)–and everything in between. How will we afford what Henry needs on every level? Spiritually, emotionally, physically and mentally, financially? And what about his someday brothers or sisters? Whoa. There is serious significance to a good number of the decisions we make, and at just shy of three months old, Henry is making this more obvious to us than ever before. (Just one of the many reasons we’re meant to procreate and look after children, no?)

So these smallish steps we’re taking daily are baby steps for a reason. We have to relearn to navigate a lot of territory, for Henry’s sake, yes, but for our own as well. There are still plenty of priorities that stayed the same when Henry came along, but there’s a whole new set of priorities that are edging their way into the daily mix. Of utmost importance and at the top of the priority list? Love.

Love your heart out. Love until it hurts, until you’re exhausted and you can’t see straight. Love like tomorrow may not come, and then love even more when it does. Love so that everything this little person knows of you is filling up and bubbling over with joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control. Love in your home so that there’s no question about where it comes from. Love God so that your little one(s) can see Him radiating through you into their lives. Love your spouse, inwardly and outwardly, in such a way that your tiny babe can SEE it between you and KNOW how secure a life he or she is living as part of a family. Love. Oooooooh, it’s the very easiest and the very hardest thing to do at times. But it’s worth it.

Every time we choose love over the alternative (whatever that may be in any case…exhaustion, laziness, disdain, frustration, sadness, emptiness, loneliness, forgetfulness, distraction, pain, naivety, hate, mistrust…), we take one step in the right direction. Not only the right direction for our little ones, but for our own hearts, our marriages, our friendships, and most especially, for our relationship with Christ. And that–no matter how many dishes are left dirty in the sink, no matter how many loads of laundry are left to do at the end of the day, is progress.

I want Henry to remember a mom who took care of things…one who cooked and cleaned and washed and kept things up so he felt provided for in as many ways as possible. But more than that, I want him to remember how I prayed. And I want him to remember–so well that he can grasp at any moment, for his whole lifetime, how I loved.”

processing,

mm

and my burden, light.

18 Feb

This is not the first time I’ve come to the blog at the end of the day and found this verse on my mind: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Mt. 11:28-30

After two emotionally challenging days, I need to be reminded. Not just for my own sake, though. There is comfort in knowing that this verse applies for anyone who will embrace it–dear friends, family, and strangers alike.

Come to me. A perfectly simple invitation. Come. Bring yourself. Bring the junk from your day, the mess you’ve made or the mess you’re in. Bring the hurts and the triumphs, the hard stuff, the stuff you can’t handle on your own. Just come.

All you who are weary and burdened. This is an all inclusive gig. No one gets left out here. Are you exhausted of something? Are you weary from the everyday, the routine, the rhythm? Or maybe the non-ordinary, super hard stuff? Can’t get something or someone off your mind or heart? Feel a bent towards righting an injustice or helping a complete stranger? Then this means you.

And I will give you rest. “I will,” Christ promises. Perhaps not eight hours of solid sleep or a king-sized bed, but real, valuable rest. Your spirit will be refreshed. You won’t run out of steam and have to give up. His grace will be sufficient for you. You heart will be well again. You will always have what you need, when you need it.

Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart. Christ will be careful with you. Pursuing Him and leaning on Him will make anything easier–if you’ll let it. He will teach you how to focus on what he has shown you, training you to become more and more like Himself in the process.

And you will find rest for your souls. No, really. This is so important it’s stated twice. No one gets to be the energizer bunny without sufficient rest. When you lean into God, He gives you strength for the next step. And then the next. And the next. You don’t have to know how things will turn out in the end, because God already has you covered. He has written and is writing your story as you sit at your computer/read your phone this very minute.

For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. Pursuing me, following my promptings, resting in my promises for your life, and opening up your hand to me to release your troubles into my care–these are all ways to experience my peace. Ask me for what you need. Share your heartache. Pray over and over again. Praise me in advance for what you’re trusting I will do. Go confidently in the direction I lead you. Leave your burdens with me, at the cross.

I am so thankful tonight for these promises from God, and for friends and family who become the Body of Christ around us when we need to be loved, reassured, prayed for, hugged tightly and encouraged in just the right moment. Things don’t always feel ok, or fair, or comprehensible. And we don’t get to have all of the answers, as much as we may want them. But we do know this: when we are weary or burdened and we ask for help, God will give us rest.

may it be so,

mm

this thing we do.

15 Feb

We spent a little time tonight watching videos from when Henry was just days and weeks old. I can’t believe that the teensy tiny baby on camera is the same child who keeps us moving at all times now, just seven, eight, nine months later. It’s a funny thing, being a parent at this stage. Nine + months doesn’t seem all that long ago, and of course we remember those first moments less than a year later. Right?

To some degree, I’d say. I do remember a lot about Henry’s birth and the days that followed, but I think there may have been a good portion that got tucked away behind the new parent haze and the major sleep deprivation that moved in with us when we got home from the hospital. Still, I loved it. Every minute of it. And tonight, watching snippets of our time as a very new family of three made my heart leap all over again. Sure, this gig is hard on a lot of days, but it’s the best job I’ve ever had. I know Jason would agree.

It’s amazing how much I find myself taken with every stage. A good friend has told me on multiple occasions that she’s loved every stage–and that they just get better and better. I admired the prospect of that possibility, but admittedly, I had a hard time believing it when I first set eyes on our little man–I was so in love. The longer I spent time with him as a newborn, the more I was convinced that there’d be little competition for how much my heart overflowed in that season. Not true. On Monday, when Henry said, “Hi!” for the first time while waving at a friend’s little girl, I was reminded just how much he is coming into his own–and how I love every single new change. This evening, when he said, “Buh Bye” while waving goodnight to friends, every bit of the mom in me lit up. More growth. More fun. More of something to celebrate as a parent.

At this stage of Hank’s development, every small thing feels like a big thing to me as his mama. In the same way that his first smile had me near tears in the nursery last Spring, Henry’s discoveries and new words, the connections he makes–and the ability to watch them happen, all bring me such great joy.

My friend was right. It just gets better and better. The day Henry came into our lives, I immediately loved our tiny baby boy more than I ever thought possible. I couldn’t describe just how good it felt then, and I can’t tonight. We are loving every stage as Hank’s parents. How could we not!?

making the days count,

mm

love is.

14 Feb

A handwritten note. A home cooked meal. A gentle voice. A prayer spoken. It’s an anonymous blessing, a purposeful act. It is filled with good intention.

Love is a back rub. It’s a task checked off your list by someone else, so you can step a little lighter. It’s a reminder that everything is going to be ok. It’s not easily contained.

Love weathers the unexpected. Is tireless. Fearless. Limitless. It induces hope.

Love is a nursing mother in the middle of the night. It’s a hard working father, providing for his family. It’s a child, clamoring to learn anything that will bring a smile, draw attention, result in praise. It is ingrained in us, and either nurtured in us or squelched in us from before we even enter the world.

Love might be a sacrifice of time, energy, resources, comfort, familiarity, belongings, words, hurt, addiction, quiet, space, basic needs, or temporary gratification. It is almost always a sacrifice of self, almost always calls us to a better version of ourselves than we’ve been before.

Love seeks justice, truth, forgiveness, reconciliation, restitution, resolution when possible, peace. It does not always seek equality, nor does it compromise Truth for the sake of making things easier or more comfortable. Love faces the hard things head on. Love leans on Truth in order that others might know it more deeply. Love never gives up.

Love is what you’re able to summon from your heart when you know who the world’s greatest Love is and when you accept what He made available for all of humankind. For that weird guy across the street. For the prisoner. For the prostitute. For the downcast and the outcast and the unloveable. For you.

LOVE is a four letter word, yes. And it’s something we celebrate on February 14th each year. But before and after it is these things or anything else, it is Christ on a cross, dying in my place–in your place, for sins He never committed, so that we might live in freedom through Him.

Love doesn’t just win, folks. Love IS. Alive, available, something you don’t have to wait for to possess. You only have to say yes to the greatest proposal in the history of creation. God is romancing each of us, if only we let Him.

love. today and every day,

mm

dear valentine.

13 Feb

Tomorrow will be my 8th Valentine’s Day with you, and in my estimation, the best one yet. Six years ago, I know I thought the same when you called from thousands of miles away–I can still remember where I stood for those significant (and expensive) minutes. I could tell you just how dark the sky was overhead, how much I missed home, missed you. Then surely, five years ago, just 38 days before we tied the knot. Four years ago…in Africa. There are others in our history, too, all made significant by your creativity and intention (you have always been remarkably good at acknowledging noteworthy days). But this one–this one I’m certain will top them all, and it isn’t for any number of chocolates or flowers or romantic cards (although the flowers today were perfect, and perfectly grand :).

I love that tomorrow is Valentine’s Day, not because of the undue pressure it adds to couples and non-couples alike, but because it gives us an excuse to love extravagantly. And we could do this every day of the year (just like I could write this post to you any day of the year), but it might get a little cost prohibitive and silly after awhile, you know? What I mean by that is this: it’s nice to have an entirely acceptable reason to do something a bit special–or to embarrass gently, out of love. You know, the way we have lunch plans tomorrow, on an otherwise random Tuesday, and the way that I’m babbling on, in essence just trying to state publicly how much I love you, in a blog post.

Here’s the thing of it. We’ve weathered a lot. We’ve traveled the globe, created a home in four places, tackled challenging home projects (that’s a big deal;), had a BABY(we’re parents!), made time for others, made time for ourselves, made time for each other, made room for God, made room for change. We’ve admitted the hard things, done the hard things, become stronger because of them and in spite of them, learned lessons, grown determined and rolled to the middle. We are eight and a half years into being us, and we have so much to be thankful for together.

When it comes to celebrating love, I think we have a pretty incredible reason to partake in the whole Valentine’s Day extravaganza tomorrow. We get better at this every year. I like that about us.

love you, jmk. or in other words…i heart you. xoxo. be mine. happy valentine’s…

mm

love to love you.

5 Feb

Being a mom is the most amazing, challenging, incredible, humbling, tireless, rewarding, worrisome, wonderful job in the world, and Henry David is the greatest blessing we’ve ever received. But we haven’t been without him (together) overnight since the day he was born–until this weekend. And stepping away from the responsibilities of mom and dad to enjoy close to 24 hours of time, just us, was such a gift!

We didn’t escape far, but Grand Rapids was just close enough that we didn’t lose sleep, and just far enough away that we wouldn’t check in. Not only did we all survive, but it’s fair to say that we’re all better for the time we spent “out of town.” Although we have a lot of fun as a trio, it was valuable to my heart to have fun–just J and me, without worrying about the little man and the next feeding time, next nap, next…

Dinner, a beautiful hotel, a perfect view, breakfast in bed, and a lunch date before coming home did this mama a world of good.

I love my baby boy. But I loved my grown-up boy, first. And I love that when we love each other well, we love Henry better, too!

blessed and refreshed. indeed.

mm

henry’s first valentine.

1 Feb

Henry got his first ever Valentine in the mail today, and it came from one of my favorite people in the world. If anyone gets to be Hank’s Valentine before his mommy does, it’s Great Gramma Donna. She’s the very, very best.

On top of the fact that we got to spend the day with some of our dear friends in Grand Rapids, Henry and I were tickled to come home and open the mail. Two things that made today quite good indeed!

with a glad, grateful heart,

mm

when did i…

31 Jan

…become a parent? Don’t answer that. I know the answer. Nine long months before I ever met Henry as our little bug, I was suddenly a mama–complete with mama instincts and mama love and so forth. I suppose there’s been no escaping that since then, but most days, I think of myself more as “Henry’s mom” than a fully-fledged parent who has to make decisions for an entirely separate and incredibly important life on a daily basis. What I mean is, this has all felt like pretty natural, run-of-the-mill, “so you have a baby now” kind of stuff. Except on rare days like today. Today I feel overwhelming like this: Ohmygoodness I’m a MOM and shoot, that means I have to make hard choices that don’t always feel good but are necessary and ew…ew…ew…I want to resist this because it just plain makes my heart hurt a little.

“It” being mostly the part where I realize that parenting is sometimes–or more probably a lot of times, going to require the hard stuff. You know, the stuff where you disappoint your kid because you have to tell them no, or “I’m sorry but,” or something else that you know they’ll hate, but you really can’t handle it any other way. So you do what you think is best as a parent because you love them. And it still stings for a while, even though you know it’s the right thing. Ugh.

Henry is only nine months old, and simply too young yet for me to really feel the implications of parenting in this regard, but I can feel it coming. And already, as he begins to show more and more in the way of preferences and opinions (and attitude!), I’m seeing how slippery a slope it can be if we aren’t mindful to love him just as diligently and carefully as possible. Just today he’s probably expressed his disapproval fifty times or more. His lips get all pucker-y and cute like he’s going to blow a kiss, and then they scrunch right on up to his button nose, where he proceeds to huff out air like a little bull ready to stampede. With his nose all wrinkled and his face all short and pudgy in this pose, I’d be tempted just to squeeze his cheeks and laugh like crazy–if I didn’t know he meant business. But when the huffing begins? Man, did I get something wrong. I might have taken a toy off of the high chair tray or moved something out of reach. Or it’s possible I just didn’t get the puffs out of their container fast enough for his appetite. Regardless, the boy is unhappy and everyone watching knows it. It’s very, very funny to strangers, and a little funny (although increasingly less so) to me. I just hope we can break the habit before we’re huffing and puffing in a time out chair/corner/spot in a year or two. How quickly things change!

Suddenly, I’m not looking at the petite babe who stays safely in my arms and wants to spend most of the day cradled and swaddled and close to mom. Already we have a wiggle-wormy monkey on our hands–one who always has an idea about the next thing he needs to see or touch or get closer to righthisminute! Hank is strong, determined, resilient, independent (fiercely so) and up for adventure. A definite boy, who, at opposite ends of the day–and sometimes in the middle still, reminds me that he needs me most of all. I am learning to dance the dance right now–the one I’ll likely stand in for the next 20 years or more. It is a powerful charge and responsibility, loving unconditionally, protecting unwaveringly, providing for continually, and growing closer to and away from, all at once and all of the time.

Being a mom is something you can want your entire life and suddenly become with relative ease. But being a parent–an intentional, calculating, careful, honest, tireless and practical one, is something you grow into in moments that stretch you, in questions that challenge you, and in situations that change you. On days like today.

henry’s parent, certainly. but above and beyond the fine print, henry’s i-couldn’t-possibly-love-him-more-if-i-tried em-oh-em. mom.

mm

from my vantage point: nine months.

25 Jan

Darling Boy of Mine,

The days are passing like minutes on the calendar; where have nine months come and gone so quickly? Today you are the same in age as the amount of time you spent tucked inside my belly, growing into that sweet, small, dependent babe we met face to face just three quarters of a year ago. Still the same Henry David we named you in those very first moments, now you are coming into your own in new ways all of the time.

What do I want you to know about where we are in this very moment? I wish I could capture so much more of you who are than I’ll ever be able–wish I had a replay button to catch every little expression you make. But then, who could keep up?! One of the things I marvel at most about you these days is your ability to light up any room. It only takes a moment, but with one funny face or laugh or nod you have us all softened and attentive to your next entertaining act. You pull me out of a bad mood or a sour day like nothing else can: a blessing to my spirit in a way only God could fashion…

On a lighter noter, you are outgrowing all of your pajamas!…and your socks and onesies and nearly anything else you’ve been wearing as of late. Your army crawl is getting to be more of an army run–nothing gets in your way if you’ve set your eye on something across the room. There are still no teeth in your sweet little mouth, but we think they’re very close. I doubt you’ll make it to your first birthday without a few pearly whites to show off when you dig into cake. You’ve added breakfast in the highchair to your repertoire, making that three square meals a day and milk inbetween. You will eat nearly anything we put in front of you, and finger foods have quickly become regular entertainment. Kruger is also a source of interest all day long. The poor dog loves you and doesn’t know what to do with you all at the same time. I hope you’ll both soon learn to play well together, and I trust a best friendship isn’t far down the road.

When dad gets home from work each day, we eat together at the table, play on the floor, splash around at bath time and always make sure to read a story (or stories) before the end of the day. We continue to pray health and safety and faith and joy over you, trusting that God will look after you and care for you in ways we can only supplement as your parents. When we say goodnight, you always look behind you and over your shoulder to see us leaving–not so ready for our time to be over but tuckered out after a busy, play-filled, action-filled day. Life is never boring with you as we mark your new discoveries and celebrate what a delightful little boy you are becoming.

I’m not ready to give up on you being a baby just yet, and as our first, I probably never will be. You are still cuddly and cozy and dependent and hesitant in all of the right ways, while fiercely independent and curious and adventurous in others. The contrast is striking to me as your mama, honored to have a front row seat as you change and grow so remarkably in this all-too-short amount of time. I’m so thankful to have three months between us and your first birthday, because I still want to take in “Baby Henry” for as long as possible. I don’t want to rush it along or wish it away or think too far ahead. You are marvelous just as you are, right at this very moment.

Nine months feels significant, because you’re surpassing the amount of time you lived in-utero by the amount of time you’ve been in the world. Suddenly, you feel bigger to me than I can contain, although I’m not sure why I’d want to try. You get better and better with every day (and I never thought it was possible!)

I love you beyond my ability to express it. So proud to be your mama. So blessed to watch you grow.

on the other side of a different kind of 40 weeks ;)

mommy

ottoman, where are you?

13 Jan

Each day that passes, it becomes more and more evident that corners and edges and stairs and tipsy-type items are not our friends. No, they are not. Recognizing that we’re not just baby proofing for a brief season (but more than likely for the next 6-10 years, until our brood is complete and toddlers are no longer toddling), it makes sense that our furniture choices be well-rounded (and by that, I mean functional, practical, washable, tasteful and walkable). I want Henry to be able to cruise the coffee table without having to worry about his every move, and I want to be able to close electronics and cords and the like behind doors for a time. Goodness knows there are already plenty of toys strewn about the living room since Christmas (not complaining ;)–I don’t think we need to add DVDs or Wii remotes or the cable modem to the mix. Let’s face it. We were MWOK for a lot longer than we’ve been parents, and the house still somewhat reflects what we once knew: that a water glass will remain upright and where we left it, that burning candles will create ambiance–not chaos, and that electrical outlets are conveniently located on walls, right behind items like the (rolling) entertainment center. Ahem.

It’s time to get serious about eliminating the risk factors. (Note: we do not have any burning candles where the little man can get to them. Heck, we hardly have burning candles at all. A girl can dream.)

At any rate. Our son is nearly nine months old, and it’s amazing that we’ve gotten this far without doing some kind of major overhaul to everything within his reach. We’re all about teaching him what’s safe and unsafe, what’s off limits and what’s fair game. But he’s still a baby. And a curious one at that. It won’t be long…

So we’re making some necessary changes around here, not the least of which is to swap out our sharp-cornered coffee table with the *ideal* storage ottoman (read: leather or faux leather, preferably dark brown, easy to store toys in, soft rounded corners, not too heavy to pick up and move out of the center of the room, strong enough to be used as extra seating if needed). I thought this would be a relatively simple task, given that I see this type of thing all over the place…Target, World Market, department stores, etc. But I have yet to find one that really suits the room (and our tastes) and that doesn’t either break the bank or lack some quality that I find most appealing in this type of furniture. I’ve seen a few I really like, but they happen to belong to friends and are no longer available in stores. I went another route for a while, trying to come up with something totally different, yet still functional and fun, but it wasn’t happening.

So here I sit. And I’m thinking about the darn ottoman again because the weekend has arrived–the time when we actually have a few hours to shop around a little or check out something together to decide whether we want to make a purchase. I think I’ve been looking at ottomans here and there for the better part of six months.

I watched Henry cruise across the room today on a quest for one of the dog’s toys (who would want a real toy when a dog toy is so readily available?), and I realized we no longer have months to figure this out. I’m thinking it’s more like a week or two…maybe days even. And sure, we watch him closely and do a lot of preventative repositioning, distracting, etc., but we’re not going to be able to do that forever–nor should we. Home should just be a safe place for a kiddo who’s on the go and learning so much so quickly. I just hope that the right ottoman is out there somewhere, waiting to take up residence in the center of Henry’s new playhouse. That is, our house. You know, the one that had corners and candles and such before the love of our lives moved in. ;)

scheming/decorating/wishing said picture-perfect dream ottoman would just arrive on our doorstep…

mm

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