Spicy Magnolia

Of Great Worth: What Turned a Marriage Around

Whenever there is a moment for me to reflect on God’s faithfulness in my life, there are countless ways I can see how He’s wonderfully and purposefully interwoven details together that I could never have pieced together on my own. But there are two extraordinary ways I’ve seen God move in my life that are always the first testimonies that come to mind: the way He is mastering my sin of anger and the healing of my parents’ marriage during my childhood.

When visiting my friend, Corrie, this past February, I sat in the front row next to her while we visited a small church in rural North Carolina. The organist and the tiny choir played and sang with gusto, and I was overcome by the realization that as my parents woke up that morning, they were celebrating their 30th wedding anniversary.

One might find it odd that my parents’ marriage, once in shambles but now made whole, is at the top of the list of one of my own stories I can testify to as a witness to God’s goodness and power. But as a child who heard the fights; as a child who was sat down at least once or twice a year and told her parents were going to get divorced; as a child who watched her brother run away and hide in the front yard bushes because he didn’t know how to handle it all; as a child who was buckled inside the car before the sun rose so her momma could leave a note on her daddy’s car at the hotel he was staying at because he’d left; as a child who walked through the ups and downs of her parents’ pendulum of love and lack thereof, it is nothing less than a God-given miracle my parents’ marriage was restored when I was twelve and are in a loving, faithful and committed relationship thirty years later!

On the windy, country road through North Carolina, Corrie and I talked more at length about my parents’ marriage and how ultimately, it is only by God’s grace and goodness that He reconciled the two of them. But we wondered what other factors were at play that kept them trying. Kept them at it. Time and time again, was there something tangible God was using to help them not completely give up and walk away?

So I posed the question to my Momma not too long ago. We talked about it briefly, but nothing stuck out to me about what she shared until she approached me a month or so later, saying, “I’ve been thinking about your question and have given it a lot of thought.”

Eager to hear her thoughts, what spilled out of her mouth hit the core of me:

Community.

The community of their church, their friends. “They were tough. They were hard core. They were serious about the marriage commitment and the power of God to heal and restore. They would not let us walk away and give up.”

The blessing of restoration came through people willing to walk with my parents through the nitty-gritty of life. You better believe a number of them got messy in the process! But they were able to be Truth-bearers and encouragers to my parents when they were blinded by their own hurt and selfishness. My parents’ friends didn’t turn a blind eye; they were courageous and brave and didn’t take the easy way out by thinking, “Oh, surely some one else will do it,” or “It can’t be that bad.”

At the same time, it took my parents to call their marriage for what it was: broken. It took humility to share the messed up parts of their relationship to those they could trust and who would love them, pray for them, and take the time to minister and help them. They didn’t turn a blind eye; they were courageous and brave and didn’t take the easy way out by thinking, “I’m too embarrassed to tell anyone what we’re going through,” or being worried about what other people thought of them (although I’m sure that surfaced at times). They unmasked the pain and surrendered the shame by sharing with their community what was happening.

What was hidden was brought to light, and the Light was able to break through the darkness.

Tomorrow morning, my Daddy will escort my Momma into the hospital for her umpteenth surgery. Their marriage isn’t perfect. It’s always being refined and refining. But by God’s grace, the gift of community, and my parents’ humility, they will walk into the hospital hand in hand. Daddy will sit in the waiting room praying for the bride of his youth, there to help her through recovery. And Momma, no doubt, will enjoy resting in his arms. All of it, gift. All of it, Christ’s grace.

Daddy and Momma are both living testimonies of God’s power and grace to transform broken lives. There is worth in sharing the messy stuff of life with a trusted, loving community. There is worth in being the Truth-bearing, willing-to-get-messy kind of friend who walks alongside the hurting and broken. And the One who has the perfect wisdom to guide, the power to transform, and the gentlest scarred hands to carry every bit of pain and brokenness is of Greatest Worth.

Simply trusting,

Wanna Go On A Date?

With my hand on his leg and his hand on my daughter’s, I looked into my Daddy’s eyes the week he was here for Easter with tears and a heart bursting with joy and thanksgiving for the man who was sitting before my eyes. Momma was perusing through a few stores while the three of us stayed in the car while Kensie Jane grabbed some shut-eye. What better opportunity to take than the one presented in that very moment to tell each other how we feel about each other, how strong the love and esteem we have for each other flows through our veins?

One of the most distinct ways I envision my Daddy from my childhood is on our dates. One-on-one dates in the school cafeteria or our favorite restaurant in the mall that I can only remember what it looked like because it was one of my first memories and closed not too long after that. One-on-one dates in the car driving from Tucson to El Paso where we’d play, “Penny for a question” and could ask each other anything. Even Daddy/Daughter trips like the one where he swept me away to Atlanta. Both of my parents were intentional about and protective over our family time as a whole, but also made a huge effort to have heart-to-heart time with me and Mac individually as well.

So as I reflect back on parts of my childhood that were remarkable, things that I want to instill and give back to my own children, that one-on-one time is at the top of the list.

The closer we approached Kensington’s due date last July, the more determined I was about going on dates with my man-child. As we get ready for one of our dates tonight: the Chick-fil-A “Mother and Son Date Knight”, I wanted to take a moment to share some of our other dates we’ve been on during the last nine months.

Some are low-key and super easy, like making a frozen yogurt run. Food is always a hit with the boy. No, make that chocolate is always a hit!

To this day, Brennan still remembers each of our dates we’ve been on together. Quite often we pass by the dollar theater where the two of us saw The Dolphin Tale in December. And nearly every time we drive by it he’ll say, “That’s where we went on our date, Momma!” By the way, the Santa ring on my finger is one Brennan gave me from a cupcake he ate at school. I was the crazy momma who wore it all the time that month. This was the day after our silliness on the train, so of course he was all about the pouty face for the camera.

In February, I stole him away for Saturday morning breakfast at Mimi’s Café where he had Mickey Mouse pancakes and then ran errands with me. Yes, running errands together doesn’t sound like much of a date. But even that time together where he’s just with me makes him feel over-the-moon special…most of the time <grin>.

In March, our last cold day of the year…well, one of the only cold days of the year, I took Brennan to the play If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, based upon one of his favorite children’s books. We had the best time! We went downtown early to grab a bite at P.Terry Burgers, found a spot outside to eat, and then enjoyed a fantastic play. Of course the date wouldn’t be complete without a large chocolate chip cookie!

He’s still not quite big enough to sit in the chairs comfortably so I had the extra benefit of holding him on my lap the whole time!

It was just over three years ago when he and I went on our first official date together. Everything about him is bigger now. My heart, having been stretched to near bursting, is even more full toward him. He’s my action-packed boy, but still my buddy whose small hands reach for mine. His body has to shuffle on my lap to get comfortable, shifting to make more room because he’s slowly but inevitably going to be too big for it. His eyes still glisten at me, looking at me affectionately as his best girl.

As I sat in the car with my Daddy that morning, the gift of time, of one-on-one dates, is one of the things I told him I was most thankful for that he gave me as his little girl. So now I can be the one to try and give the gift of time, of special one-on-one moments that hopefully will be a blessed memory to my children.

So Brennan and Kensington, wanna go on a date?

His Special One

To My Special Kensie Jane,

A few days ago, the calendar rolled around to April 29th, marking the 9th month of your life. Many have said that attempting to record the lives of children beyond the firstborn is futile, that those following that first child often get slided when it comes to projects like scrapbooking and documenting milestones. I’ll admit, I’ve tried hard. I’ve tried hard to keep up, but it’s just one thing that hasn’t gone the way Momma envisioned or hoped. Last time I wrote you were barely six months old, and now you’re nine months old. I think that’s your funny way of trying to pull a fast one on me. You succeeded. Despite my unsuccessful efforts to keep up, one thing I can say for certain: your content, lively, happy, adventurous self is not lost on me!

Your personality has manifested itself these last few months, showing you are a unique, priceless baby girl created by a God who wanted to blow my socks off with you! There is rarely a morning or an afternoon that I approach your crib without 1) you having a smile on your face; 2) you having at least one leg hanging over the edge of the crib; 3) your head backed into a corner bumper; 4) your being rosy-cheeked; and 5) your smelling a tad sour on your head because you are a sweaty hot head.

No one can quite place who you look like. As your Pops wrote in a poem to me nearly 30 years ago, “So no one can say just who you look like? God’s made you His own, inside and out. You’re His limited edition, a one-of a kind; an original creation, a whole new design.”

That said, some of your distinguishing features are from your namesakes. Your big eyes are hands-down from your Mees. And shockingly (!!!) you have red hair! It’s coming through a strawberry blonde, and we are ever beside ourselves with jaw-dropping wonder at where that came from. The only thing we can think of is that it came from my Gaga, who had auburn hair before she went prematurely grey in her 20s.

Over the last few months, you have:

• Started clapping
• Started waving (Mees and I were slightly concerned because at first you just waved to yourself in the mirror, taken with your beauty.)
• Gone from the boring rice cereal and not knowing how to swallow, to enjoying a whole assortment of pureed foods like roasted pears and spinach, to eating a few finger foods. You don’t mind eating different textures, and there has not been one thing you’ve refused or turned away.
• Decided your favorite food so far, hands down, are avocados. I’ve even put some salsa in it to make guacamole for you, and true Texan that you are, you devoured it.
• Been on your first airplane (to North Carolina)
• Said your first words: “Momma” and “Bye Bye” (in a very Southern accent)
• Swung on a swing, which you thoroughly enjoyed (unlike your brother who still does not like them)
• Reached out for me to hold you and made my heart swoon
• Determined your tongue is one of the best toys ever
• Taken your first bubble bath
• Become mobile by scooting on your pa-tooty! We’re not sure you’ll actually crawl because you still despise tummy time. But you figured out a way to get to your destination. And you’re fast. “Scooter” is a nickname that’s sticking.
• Ridden in the front of the grocery cart for the first time
• Started crying when someone turns their back on you (using that funny, fake cry)
• Grown two teeth: your front bottoms. And we noticed today that you have two teeth buds on top getting ready to protrude. They’re not your two front teeth but the ones on each side of the two fronts. I have no idea what the technical names are for those teeth.
• Celebrated your first Easter in which you gave this face to every passerby that resulted in two different families coming our direction saying the exact same thing: “You’re in trouble with that girl!”

You are a mimicker! Sounds, hand movements. We’ll do them a few times and soon you are our echo or mirror. One of your favorite games in the car is to “parrot” different sounds I make. Clicking your tongue is a signature Kensington greeting. You delight in various games we play with you like peek-a-boo and a “don’t look at me, I’m too bashful” sorta game Daddy made up for you.

Still, nine months in, your brother is your world. And he’s a mighty fine big brother. He’s learning to share. Not to grab. To be more welcoming when you invade his personal space, which can be tough because you are one handsy/full-on/in-your-face kinda gal! You’re learning not to grab and pull and pinch and yank. To give Brennan a bit more space and focus on something else. The three of us were very quick to realize one key solution to many of the sibling issues (and the crucial component for our own sanity in general), was to make sure you have something in your hands at all times.

Pops and Mees gave you music classes for Christmas, and you act like they were invented for you. The squeals, the waving of the arms, the exuberant smiles: you throw your whole self into those forty-five minutes.

I wasn’t much a player of dolls growing up, but you, my Sweetness, are so fun to dress up! But very, very much unlike your brother who still won’t finger paint, you like to get down and good ol’ dirty and messy.

Precious, you are the poster child for one who “lights up” whenever someone walks in the room. Laid back, chill, content are a few descriptive words for you. There are few times when you melt down either when you’re exhausted or very hungry. You have started arching your back in a defiant way, and those legs go kickin’ when changing your diaper.

Pops came into town for Easter and this picture of you is quite indicative of your personality. Again with the tongue. Again with the legs that if it were up to you, would be hanging over your high chair and the table and some day, the car dash or even outside the car window, heaven forbid <grin>.

You enjoy being tossed around in the air and don’t seem to be scared off by adventure. However, you groan and wince around any animal besides Molly, even at Popsie and Mees’ home, you had to get used to Dapples every single morning.

Some days you take three naps, some days two. You’re flexible with the schedule on days we take Brennan to school, and those days are some of the most valuable to me as we have mother-daughter time. But you’re always very eager to pick up Brennan, and his first question is, “Where did you and Kensie go?” Thankfully (!!!!) you can transfer well from the car to the crib. And you are able to take a little snooze in the car on the days we hang around Brennan’s school.

Girl, you are a tall, lanky one with long, long legs! You are wearing nothing less than 18 month pants/shorts and dresses. But everywhere else, you’re fairly petite. You weigh 18 lb. 8 oz. (50th percentile) and are 29 inches long (90th percentile).

One of my and Daddy’s favorite times with you: holding you in our arms feeding you your last bottle of the day and rocking you to sleep. Some nights, we can’t part ways and hold you a long time. You still sleep very well through the night, and I’m most grateful! On the rough nights though, there’s a quickness to my step in wanting to hold you because your baby days are hanging on by a thin thread.

I’ll close with something that I can’t and won’t shake. I’ll be telling you this till you believe it in the core of your being. A few weeks before you were born, I laid in bed awake, restless, and unable to sleep (not uncommon during your pregnancy). Very distinctly and clearly (something that doesn’t happen all that often to me), God very sweetly relayed to me these words in my heart, “I can’t wait to give you this little girl! She is very special!”

And that you are baby girl.

That you are!