No sadness

Tomorrow marks Asa's fourth week of life in this big crazy world.

Amelie insists on trying to put her own shoes on and constantly requests mommy and daddy to leave her to do things on her own.

We watched Asher walk the steps of his first graduation, preschool though it may be.

And I don't want to be sad about any of it.

My first impulse is to lament everything we do these days because it is (most likely) the last time we will do newborn things. You know, the last time to hear a baby's first cries, the last time to announce a baby's name, the last time to dress a baby in his going home clothes, everything has a "last."

Every event, every child, every moment is a last in some ways.

But (again I thank Ann Voskamp for figuring out the words for the feelings I'm wanting to capture) I don't want to be sad about any of it.  I don't want to hold on for too long to a preschooler who so belongs in kindergarten. Or to an independent girl who is getting so good at being grown-up.  

The time comes to let the season pass into the next and so as Asa moves into his second month of life, I kiss the teeny tiny newborn diapers goodbye and look with eagerness to the next stage without sadness and lingering for too long.

This day, this moment, I've captured in my mental memory and won't be sad about any of it.

If I held you more

For the past two weeks, I haven't done much of anything besides sit and hold a newborn baby.

I feel guilty about the dirty floors, bedtime routines Walter has done on his own, and my general disregard for the way the rest of the world keeps ticking ahead. Each morning, I vow to stick with my to do list and find something tangible to accomplish.

But then I hold Asa for just a little longer.  A little longer turns into a lot longer and a lot longer turns into an entire morning.

He has the same hypnotic eyes of each of my babies.  They blink at me all blue and adorable while lulling me into a trance of not being able to look away. I want those moments of snuggling to last and last. Even then, in my exhausted trance while I hold a swaddled wrinkly body, my thoughts leap ahead to when this dependent one while drive away from home and walk down the aisle to pledge closer allegiance to someone besides daddy and me. 

I know these days will not last. My moments to cuddle and hold aren't very long. Ann Voskamp's words identified my subconscious thoughts when she asked about her own maturing son, "would it have all slowed down if I held you more?"

"It all goes so fast" is the constant mantra of older mothers and I've seen it myself in a growing five year old. I beam with pride watching his success  but my mind always flicks back to the precious first days when the crazy bustling world didn't matter and I simply held him. 

These days with Asa, I'm sitting, dreaming, soaking in the smell of newborn skin and hoping that it will all slow down if I hold him more.

Happy Mothers Day.
I pray you too take time today to sit. hold. and slow it down.

Mother duck

Oh Mother duck with your five freshly hatched ducklings, why did you want to cross the busy road to the corporate parking lot? 

Were you desperate to find water for them?

Did you know they couldn't survive in the open grassy field of the hospital?

What instinct caused you to lead tiny babies into such danger?

Why is my hormonal mother's mind so reflective on a mommy duck with her ducklings?

Walter turned on the hazards and jumped out of the van to scare the brave duck back into the grass, but really how long would it be until she attempted to cross the busy street again?

These days while my activities consist of simply sitting and bonding with a fresh new baby in my arms, I can't help but think of moms who don't get to sit all day cuddling and caring for their babies. Yes, I do want to go up and down the stairs more than once a day.
Yes, I can't wait to be ok'ed to drive again.
Yes, I'm excited for the time when I can exercise this extra weight away.

But I am thankful for peace in my home.
A caretaking husband who although a bit harsh at times, forces me to fully recover.
Family who does the daily things that need to be done.

Oh mother duck, with your little babies forced to waddle to safety just hours after being born, I don't envy you. Instincts you have, but loving support you need!

Welcome Asa William!



Asa arrived April 23 at 5:18 am. Another perfect gift.

So amazed to have experienced another life's first cries.

Don't skip it!

It's Good Friday.

Not good for the physical act of Jesus' crucifixion, but Good because we remember the greatest love ever shown to the world.

In my corner of the world, thunder rolls this morning and the sun is no where on the horizon. It's gray windy and I want to go back to bed. Considering the weather, I would rather just skip today.

But, this is a day not to be skipped over. Without this day, the day of recognizing Jesus' death, there is no hope for a better day.

Without the gray we can't appreciate or even recognize the light.

Yes, the light is coming but first we must walk through the gray of today.

"For every sin on Him was laid, Here in the death of Christ, I live."

It could be today

Every Friday morning for years, I heard a fellow leader of my Bible study group encourage us that, "It could be today." For her, the hope she thought of every morning was the return of Jesus to complete work of restoration He initiated on the cross.

As I sit here with swollen ankles and an exploding belly, "It could be today" means this might be the day we get to meet the one wriggling around inside of me.

For the ones who lived before Jesus was born, "It could be today" filled believers with hope that each sunrise brought the possibility for the return of Messiah. The one who would bring light back into the world.

And one day he did come. It was a today. There was a day when angels shouted this is the day! God with us has entered the world and the plan for bringing people back into relationship with him is set one step further into motion.

Thirty three years later, the day came when it was "today" again. The day when love and grace mingled themselves in perfection and Jesus paid our sacrifice on the cross.  The most important "today" in all of history.

That today of thousands of years ago is the one we celebrate this week. And it is the today that all of my hopes hang on.

Even as I hopefully look forward to the approaching time when I get to look into the face of the one who saved me, in my own little world, I hopefully look forward to the imminent day when I hear a newborn's cries.

It could be today!

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."