Help Mommy

Amelie tells me a hundred times a day that she wants to "Help Mommy."

Sometimes I can make this work to my advantage. Last night at bedtime I convinced her it would "help mommy" if she carried something up the stairs for me rather than continue to play with the toy that kept her from wanting to get ready for bed. 

Score! Cleaning supplies got carried upstairs and bedtime progressed.

Other times, her "help" totally complicates any work I've done rather than contributing at all to completing a task. The most obvious of these times is when she closes herself in the bathroom with me and stands next to my legs declaring she is going to "help mommy."

But I've been reminded to love her heart motive even though her help usually creates more work.

And my heart has been pricked over who I am "helping," or could it be hindering?

I want to help God do good, not believing doing good things will save me, but simply because I want to be lined up with His purposes and do things for Him. Sometimes I ask what it is that I can do to most bring Him honor. But most times, I push ahead doing what I think will be helpful only later to find out I kind of messed things up.

Whether through immaturity or impulsive actions, my words, as one example, can do a whole lot of unhelp in someones heart that He has been carefully working on when I don't first ask Him how I can help.

My unskilled help, when not connected to His plans can quickly undo His work and leave my attempts just as unhelpful as Amelie's declarations to "help" me. Still I find He gives me opportunities to help. I haven't been pushed away or banned from trying to help Him.

Rather I feel reminders to slow down, reconnect with Him and become realigned with His plans.

Today I do want to be helpful and when Amelie asks to "Help Mommy," I plan to ask how I can "Help God."

One Decision

What addictions are you fighting today?


Are you sitting at your computer reading blogs, checking email, or shopping when you really wanted to be folding the clothes that just finished in the dryer? And did you just tell your 2 year old that you would read her a book "in a minute" for the twelfth time?

This is the addiction I face. Too many times "just checking" one more thing - facebook, reading one more blog post, finding a great deal on kid's pajamas and my free time is eaten away.

When I heard about the book, "The Soft Addiction Solution," I immediately knew what my soft addiction is and that it needed to stop.  Obviously I haven't completely banned myself from the internet, but reading the book and coming up with a vision of what I do want my life to look like has made me think twice before heading to "just one more" online place. 

You can read more about making your One Decision in the Hearts at Home column this week.

Eat food!

"Asher, Don't eat toilet paper when you have food on your plate."

Because really once the food is gone, eating toilet paper is a perfectly good option? (please catch the sarcasm dripping off that sentence.)

Yet again, words flew out of our mouths that really don't belong together. Our boy rarely eats his dinner, but I often find myself telling him to stop eating leaves when we're outside or to keep the paper out of his mouth during quiet time.

I've gone the route of trying kid-friendly food all of the time and it hasn't worked. Pizza must have pepperoni only and be exactly the kind he's used to seeing without any sauce visible or stringy cheese parts hanging off the edge. Chicken nuggets are fine, as long as I only make him eat two. Hamburgers - good - but not too thick, or on a bun, hold the toppings.

And so we settle for suppers of a few mousey bites of regular adult food without kid-friendly amendments. As we eat, the battle rages for our child to eat what's been served rather than the extra toilet paper he sneaked back to the table after a trip to blow his nose.

Lovely. (and now you know why we use cloth napkins in this house!)

The little ones

Most of my prayers are for big things.
I ask God to continue to bless us with good health, spiritual growth, provision for food, home, clothing. These general prayers He answers and I'm grateful for the ways I know we are supernaturally provided for.
 I know He regularly performs huge miracles and there is no request too big for Him to answer.

He has changed the outcome of wars, turned hearts of stone cold leaders, and rescued entire people groups. Still, it is the little specific prayers that build my faith on a daily basis. Whether it's asking for help in finding a dropped contact, bringing a friend into my path at the right moment, or providing the perfect opportunity just when I need it, I am blown away when my small prayers get answered.

Last week, I lost my calendar.

Not just a book of dates and times, but the place where I store lists, invitations, reminders, all the basics to keep our family on track. My first inclination was to immediately order a new calendar so I could get to work recording the things I could still remember.

But God prompted me to pray and wait. I prayed on Wednesday that He would help me find the calendar by Monday or I would order a new one. My commitment to this request was tested several times. I went ahead and spent time finding the website to order an exact replacement calendar from. And during our weekend trip to Barnes & Noble, I resisted the temptation to just go ahead and use my coupon to buy a new one.

I waited and God provided Sunday morning. Through a series of thoughts that He led me on, I went to a spot to check. It was a completely random spot I never would have searched in a million years on my own.

And there lay the small but familiar red leather book!

I immediately felt relief as that nagging feeling of life being out of order lifted and I knew God answered my little prayer once again! He felt tangible, real, and I am reminded of my need for Him. I rarely tell anyone about the little ways He has worked in my life.

You could call these coincidences, fate, or just the way life works out, but I will refuse to label these as anything other than God's direct intervention into one small life.

This spot

Mommy, I want to make a sign for this spot that is not normal.

I answered in my "not really paying attention mode" with Ok, that sounds great.

So Mom, how do you spell, "Dad ironed on this spot of the carpet?"

That question snapped me back to attention and we set to work.

Amelie, our budding artist who just this weekend scribbled on the walls of our favorite coffee shop, took a crayon and left her big blue mark on the middle of our family room floor several weeks ago.

Walter immediately set to work trying to figure out how to get crayon out of carpet. I suggested ironing and several internet sites did as well. So, he heated the iron and rubbed it, on top of a paper bag, over the crayon spot.

We removed the paper bag hoping to see the miraculous blue streak disappeared only to discover melted rough ugly spot in the middle of the floor! I'm thinking the rules for taking crayon out of Berber carpet differ from regular carpet.

And so the spot sits in the middle of the floor daily reminding us of that awful moment when we damaged our new home with a well-intentioned try to fix it.

Asher regularly points out and talks about the spot and now he has decided to simply leave a sign over it so everyone will know that Daddy made a spot on the floor.

Nothing like having a flaw pointed out.

Kids are good for that. Amelie often points out peeling skin on my lips as an "owie." Asher tells me that I really should go running more regularly. And he frantically reminds me to keep watching what I am cooking on the stove because he doesn't want the smoke alarm to go off (again?).

I'm thanking God today that He has forgiven and forgotten my flaws! He knows the mistake spots in my life. Those in the middle of the floor that everyone else knows about and the hidden ones that no one knows.

Even though He knows every time my mind judges, criticizes, or feels selfish, there are no signs hanging around my neck saying, "Angie judged that lady with 5 boxes of Fruity Pebbles and 3 packages of donut holes in her cart."

He knows those thoughts and has paid the price to forgive them.

And my spots are gone!

Handling anger

The anger scale Asher developed last fall has thankfully gone by the wayside. Although his temper can rise quickly, he has either learned how to label his feelings differently or is better able to calm himself down when his blood starts to boil.

I don't take a lot of credit for that other than to point to my intense prayers asking for divine intervention!

Even though I can't claim to have used all of the techniques I listed, my most recent Hearts at Home column lists several ideas of ways to teach children how to manage their anger.

Just thought I would share the ideas here because truthfully, these calming methods work just as well for adults as they do for kids.

Two

Tomorrow Amelie turns two!

She is not a baby. Too big to be a toddler. A preschooler? Definitely not yet. I don't know what label to put on her, but I can tell you who my two year old is. She is

A cuddler who can quickly detect female arms willing to hold a little girl.

A "hide/seek" player who decides anything not easily spotted is playing hide and seek with her.

Attracted to all things pink and one who talks endlessly of her anticipated pink puppy cake.

Edging me off the chair at this very moment because she just needs to sit so close.

A risk taker who never hesitates to follow whatever Asher does.

An accesorizer who has more sense of when to wear a scarf, carry a bag, or wear pretty pink shoes than her mommy does. She even succeeds at getting daddy to wear a scarf whenever she suggests.

Two is a big year. She will do so many new things this year. I'm excited for Amelie to

go to school one day a week

become potty trained (can this magically happen somehow?)

become a big sister

let go of that pacifier

expand her vocabulary

These days I look at this girl I love thinking about how her world will soon be rocked upside down with the arrival of a new baby. It makes me sad to think my sweet one who just wants to be held will have to be more grown up and independent. She has been my clear answer to prayers and a constant reminder of Hope.

There might not be much room on my lap anymore, but my arms will always be ready for my precious two year old, Amelie.