Roots

I hear the flip flop of his little feet behind me.  The gentle tone in his voice that says, "Mom, I follow you."  And I'm flooded with thoughts and unexpected fears.  The wild-eyed boy makes me wonder what he will be like as a man.  And I pray that his desire to follow me will be more than to the movie shelf.  That his following would be to the feet of Jesus.



As a mom I want to plant my children by the stream of Christ.  That the roots of his faith will be planted firm in the one who created him.  As the psalmist said:

¹ Oh, the joys of those who do not
follow the advice of the wicked,
or stand around with sinners,
or join in with mockers.
² But they delight in the law of the Lord,
meditating on it day and night.
³ They are like trees planted along the riverbank,
    bearing fruit each season.
Their leaves never wither,
    and they prosper in all they do. ~ Psalm 1:1-3

Today my prayer for those little hands and little feet is that the roots of faith would take hold in Christ alone where they would receive what they need for every season of life.

For When Your Heart Breaks

The house was dark this morning.  Six fifteen was earlier than I had wanted to rise but the baby whined and wanted his pacy.  So I rolled out of bed, turning the baby monitor down so that only the neon green light flashed but no sound was heard.  Silently walked to the kitchen as dawn was breaking.  Little by little light began to flood through the windows and I reached over to turn on the coffee pot.  As I looked up and out the window that's directly above the kitchen sink, to my early morning surprise was a momma cow and her newborn baby calf.  Not that it is unusual to see cows and calves in the pasture around our house.  But I haven't seen a newborn calf that close to the fence since we've lived here.  As I watched out the window, the newborn calf tried desperately to stand on its wobbly little legs.  Taking a step here and there, it plopped to the ground again.  And I was ecstatic to show the boys this precious sight as they each rose and came sleepy eyed into the kitchen.

I was no less excited when we returned home from church this afternoon to find another calf was being delivered.  But something wasn't right.  The momma cow had been in hard labor for hours, not unusual, but her water had not broke.  The farmer came over to check her and had to deliver the stillborn calf almost losing the momma in the process.  It was like a train wreck and I was heartbroken over a baby calf.  I could not move my bare feet off the lawn and back into the house for nothing.

Now, I've given birth three times.  Beautiful, healthy babies.  And I know, very well, the pain involved.  Unlike some, I decided I'd just rather not have an epidural.  With each child the pain was different but no less intense.  With each child I've had the joy and privilege of bringing them home from the hospital, spending sleepless nights catering to their very basic needs, enjoying their first words and first steps and watching their very different personalities come through.

But I can't help but think about Peanut.  I've been pregnant four times.  The first ending in a miscarriage.  I was devastated. The longing of my heart was for a child and I walked away crushed.  When we saw that little tiny heart beating on the monitor I was shocked and thrilled.  And we called that sweet little life that was forming Peanut.  Feeling the pain, disappointment, hurt and humiliation was far greater than I even dared to imagine when we realized we had lost what was precious to us.  It was a train wreck that I couldn't escape. 

Maybe you've felt that pain of heart break or maybe you're on the outside and can't turn away but have no idea what to do or say.  Let me say from experience, the outpouring of love and encouragement from those around me both in word and deed was wonderfully overwhelming.   More therapeutic than anything has been the opportunity to share my story.  While the wounds may still be fresh, it is increasingly difficult to share.  However, the power of a testimony can make a difference in the life of another.  Share hope where someone else may need it most.

 

 

Raising Opie in a Magic Mike World

***Various bloggers have hit on the topics of "Magic Mike" and "Fifty Shades of Grey".  This is not a debate or a bashing session.  It's the observation from this mother.***

Being a mom is one of the most, if not THE most, challenging and rewarding jobs I've ever held.  It comes with its daily ups and downs.  As I type, my two year old is hanging around my neck, loudly singing in my ear.  Moments like these can never be replaced or remade.  It is my joy to raise boys.  They are fun, loud, lively boys who enjoy wrestling, running and being outdoors.

This week we saw the passing of a beloved actor, Andy Griffith. I can remember watching reruns of The Andy Griffith Show as a child (up into my adulthood).   It was a wholesome show that depicted the adventures of a father raising his young son, teaching him the lessons needed to be a self-sufficient adult with good moral character.  I've often wondered how we've gone from one extreme to the other.  How do I raise my sons in an Opie fashion?

Since the release of Magic Mike, I've been disheartened by the number of "Christian" women who've gone to see this movie.  As a believer, wife and mother of boys, I've been sick thinking about what my boys see me approve and disapprove.  This movie (and the book Fifty Shades of Grey) have made me stop and think.  How can my husband and I raise our boys in such a way that they are not the object of lust, selfish desires and ingratitude? Here are a few of my thoughts.

The first thing my boys need to see is that I as their mother Respect their father.  I respect him as a man, my husband, my lover, my friend and my helpmate, just to name a few.

So again I say, each man must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband.  ~Ephesians 5:33

It is way easy for us, as women, to become discouraged because our husbands aren't as romantic like when we were dating. They leave their dirty socks laying around the house or don't always help with the household chores.  We look for ways to not have to show them respect.  Scripture is clear in that we are to respect our husbands (this doesn't mean we worship them).  Respect them with our words, actions, with what we see and what we say.  Frankly, none of us want our husbands viewing pornography.  We feel demeaned by it.  How is watching a movie or reading a book like mentioned above not the same?  Our fantasies are telling our husbands we want someone they can't be.  It's time to check our motives.

Two, I need my boys to see that I as a woman Respect myself.  That I do not condemn myself by what I approve.

Don’t be concerned for your own good but for the good of others. ~ 1 Corinthians 10:24

They need to see me as consistently the same.  To understand that moral character is important.  Even more important is a personal relationship with Christ.  My boys need to see what it looks like for a woman to respect herself so they know what to look for in their future wives.  I want them to be able to spot a woman who is comfortable in her relationship with Christ and has good moral character.  A woman uncompromising in her faith and femininity.  I want them to see it first in me.

Three, I need my boys to see that they can Respect themselves.  I want them to understand there is a huge difference between love and lust.  The one thing that made my skin crawl was the thought of women (any but especially my age and older) thinking of my sons as objects of their lust-filled fantasies.  I want my boys to learn to conduct themselves in such a manner that earns the respect of all people and is not paid for with single bills by women of all ages.  Respect is earned, not freely given and cannot be bought.  They may not have everything handed to them on a platter.  They will have to work for things they want like video game systems or a car because I don't want them to grow up with a sense of entitlement and no work ethic.  I want them to respect themselves and not regret who they are and will become.
What are you showing your children by what you approve?  How are you instilling a respect for self and others in your child?

 

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All you boy moms, check out what's going on over at The MOB Society.

When forgiveness isn't enough

This morning was like MANY others. My middle alarm clock woke up around 4 AM, shortly after the little one finished his bottle. My gracious husband handled him so I could catch a few more Z's. Six forty seemed way too early but so much to do today. Breakfast to fix, oldest to preschool, groceries to buy...because we have breakfast foods but really, who needs 12 boxes of cereal?!


In the midst of dressing all 3 boys and myself, I found myself out of favor with my oldest. I asked the middle one to bring me the baby wipes and the oldest to bring me a diaper for the baby. The oldest quickly grabbed the wipes and headed toward me. I asked him to give them to his brother and bring me a diaper, much to his dismay. What ensued was a semi-silent tantrum. One that lasted well after I dropped him off at preschool.

I could say so many things here about the temperament of my precious oldest son, the rather sweet 4 year old that he his. But I will refrain. After the noticeable frustration and anger he was feeling because he did not get his way, I asked his forgiveness for not realizing beforehand of his desire to get the wipes (something he is not usually asked to do). I want him, and his brothers, to understand that when they make a mistake, it is good to acknowledge they were wrong and ask forgiveness. I want them to be men who are honest and trustworthy.

However, as we were walking into the school, he was still visibly upset. Before walking in I stopped and asked him what was going on. He repeated that he was still upset over the episode with the baby wipes. Still. Still! But I asked forgiveness and even made a promise to let him bring the wipes next time. I hugged him and we walked in. As he went in his class, his first words to his little friends were about what had happened at home. Ugh! I kept thinking

Just forget about it and move on!

Then it hit me like a TON of bricks. How can I expect his forgiveness when I am quick to punish? Why should I be given grace and make him live by the letter of the law? I am a Pharisee.

I've heard the saying

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger

a 1000 times. But what I hadn't banked on was that what doesn't kill you can make you hard-hearted and bitter, can take away your childhood and make you shrug off the responsibilities of adulthood. What am I doing to my sons?!

My desire is that they will desire an intimate relationship with Jesus Christ. That as a mom I will extend grace immeasurably (circumstantially as I am able) and be a living example of how they too can extend grace to others. I desire for my boys to see Jesus in and through me. To understand that mom (& dad) make mistakes and they will too but there is forgiveness and grace not just law and consequences.

What about you? What do your children see in you? Are you quick to ask forgiveness and slow to extend grace? May we all look to Christ as our example and be found in His grace today.