Spicy Magnolia

Time is Whizzing and Darting

Can time possibly whiz by any faster than it is already? Wait. Don’t answer that question. I don’t want to know the answer. I dread the answer.

In my lap is a three month old doll. It seems I just completed her two-month post and now she’s already two weeks past three months. I can’t keep up. Surely some genius is working on a ‘take your time’ machine that stretches time, right?

Apparently, I desperately need a ‘take your time’ machine because those first two paragraphs were written a few weeks ago! Shortly after penning them, the little girl decided she had enough of sitting quietly in Starbucks with me so we moved onto a fresher spot, only to leave me deciding to combine her three and four month updates because I was already so behind and lacking a decent moment to write.

A year ago this past Monday we found out we were pregnant with this joy. She is a delight, a very content, smiley baby who seems to only cry when she’s really tired or when she’s in a room by herself when I run upstairs to get something and Brennan follows, for example. Oh, yeah, and tummy time. She does not like to be left alone, and out of all four of us, it is foreseen that she will be the extrovert. Squealing, chattering, and cooing are her fortes. She will talk nonstop for a solid 10+ minutes (I have a video to prove it).

Seeing Kensington’s hands folded together, Brennan would say, “Kensie is praying!”

Some of the firsts she experienced since her 2-month post: swimming (she was just as amused at Brennan’s splashing her as he was); got to meet Uncle Mac & Aunt Julie; a first road trip to Dallas for my cousin’s wedding; our first official family vacation to San Antonio/Sea World (she’s a great traveler like her brother); Halloween; a first date with Daddy; first jacket-wearing cool day; Thanksgiving; rolling from her tummy to her back (she’s only done it once and it commenced Brennan’s rolling around to show her how it’s done), and is very close to rolling from her back to her tummy; her first cold (boo).

Vividly I remember when and where I was with Brennan when I told him the Gospel for the first time after I saw him staring at the cross on our kitchen wall (he was about the same age as Kensington now). It was less pressure on me to feel like I had to share it entirely on a kid’s level because he was just a few months old, and I trust the Holy Spirit could penetrate his heart with it despite his age. Sitting under a large oak tree one morning at Starbucks in October, I relayed it with joy and emotion to my Kensie Jane.

I have a knack for finding her ticklish spots which make her giggle. Matt, however, holds the record for making her laugh for the very first time simply because he was being goofy.

The girl tries to eat her whole fists. She prefers them to a paci. On the topic of eating, she’s become less messy and drooly while doing so.

She’s gotten so big and strong she graduated away from the swaddle and still sleeps 11-12 hours each night, which is amazing! We’re still working with a nap routine, which might prove to be difficult for the morning version. Thankfully, her afternoon naps are mostly consistent with the duration and timing of Brennan’s. She’s a snuggler and loves to be held, especially this week when she hasn’t been feeling well. And kisslets, oh this girl loves her some kisslets! It’s a sure-fire way to see some smiles.

She’s easily distracted while eating because she wants to follow Brennan’s every move; thus, you’ll see her bottle moving back and forth for twenty minutes while she turns her head this way and that. Brennan has had a lot of lessons on speaking kindly to his sister these last few weeks. Someone wisely told me that sibling issues won’t show up as clearly in the first couple of months after the new baby arrives but after three or four. That is probably not true for everyone, but it holds water in this home. Something in Brennan kicked in a few weeks ago when he must have realized, “Oh, she really is here to stay.” That said, he’s pretty sweet on “Mys sister,” and I pray they’d be blessed with a deep, joyous friendship.

She likes her Jumperoo and Johnny-Jumper though it looks like they’re swallowing her. Wearing 3-6 month clothes and some 6 month clothes, she’s growing like a weed. She weighs 14.1 pounds is 25.25 inches long (remaining in the 50th and 75th percentiles for weight and length, respectively). The rolls, the rolls on this child are fabulous <grin>.

She has two kinds of smiles I see regularly, each represented in the two pictures. One is more open-mouthed making her face round and the other one is when she crinkles her face and scrunches her eyes. It’s fun to get her in the morning because she’s smiley and excited to see us. Brennan usually likes to climb in the crib with her.

Brennan’s hair came in a lot faster than Kensington’s, but hers is a-comin’! From what we can tell so far, she will be a toe-head like her brother.

When Brennan is at his school, Kensington and I usually enjoy time together split at a nearby Starbucks and then a special corner we have hidden away at the church where Brennan goes to school. We’re pretty stoked to go pick up Brennan when the time rolls around.

She is my dutiful companion when I’m folding laundry, smiling at me or staring at the fan.

These children of mine, they are some of the tools God uses in my life to shape me, refining me to be more like Jesus. They also are such exquisitely made gifts in my life that make me all the more shout from the rooftops that God, He is good!

From the fullness of his grace we have all received one blessing after another. John 1:16 (NIV)

Simply trusting,

A Two Month Etching

I stand in awe of the gifts God has given to me in my children, my husband. I look at my children, my boy and girl, and stand in humble amazement of these God-given gifts. I lose my breath sometimes. I want to fall on my knees in praise, weeping at knowing how much these gifts are undeserved, yet so deeply, gratefully received. I am not worthy. So not worthy. Incredibly blessed though.

When I look at Brennan crawling up in the car, arranging his fire hat on his head (backwards), locking eyes with me and smiling, my heart skips a beat and I freeze frame that vision for as long as I can.

When I snuggle up to Kensington, stroking my cheek against her peach-fuzzed head, I inhale a whiff of her baby smell and memorize it, along with the beauty of her smiles.

These days are precious and fleeting. Priceless and sifting all-too-quickly through the hourglass. Time is of the essence. Each day I long to be intentional, instruct, teach. Tiredness overtakes me; impatience robs me; busyness derails me. But I desire to remember each moment, to soak it up. By writing, I etch it into a tangible keepsake to prolong the memory as long as possible.

Who knows where these journals will end up, whose eyes these words will fall upon. But they will stand. Stand through time when my memory fades and fails, and ultimately they will be a record of the countless blessings given to me by my lavishly loving Father. At the top of my lungs and in the whispers of my spirit, I offer Him thanksgiving.*

While a couple weeks late, these are the markers and moments of Kensie’s second month I want to tangibly etch:

• It didn’t take you long to pack on the pounds and move up to the 50th percentile for weight (10 pounds, 14 ounces) and 75th for height (24 inches). Still in size 1 diapers and 3 month clothes, with some 3-6 month clothes.
• Easy-going. Laid back. Sweet. Delightful. Attentive. Content. Observant. Peaceful. Happy. In the words of Mary Poppins, “Perfectly perfect in every way.”
• Bath time is soothing to you. It’s one of my favorite times of the day.
• At exactly the two month mark, you still woke up once around 2 or 3 a.m. About three days after your two-month birthday, you started sleeping 10-12 hours straight through. Glory!
• We actually didn’t expect you to start sleeping through the night this early and were not prepared for the sudden shift from the cradle in our room to your crib upstairs (it was kind of a fluke actually). I don’t feel like I’ve had closure on that season.
• Sometimes you prefer to be set down on the grass to look up at the trees and the sky rather than be held.
• Loud noises are not bothersome to you, and you’ve grown accustomed to Brennan’s in-your-face kisses, animal noises, hugs, and other raucous 2.5 year old antics (including tantrums).
• Smiles. Oh, the smiles! Pure toothless joy!
• Speaking of smiles, you’ll light up in an instant when you hear your big brother. I catch him holding your hand in the car and gazing at you. He’s already quite the protector and doesn’t like other kiddos getting close to your stroller. He’ll say, “My sister!” and will push them out of the way (we’re working on that).
• You still have the biggest and darkest blue eyes I’ve seen. They try to take in everything around them.
• Most of your morning naps are brief and in the car seat, so different from how it was with Brennan, but you handle it well.
• You can lift your head a bit during tummy time, an exercise you find distasteful. Extremely.
• Coos. Coos. Coos. Music to my ears.
• When you wake up, Brennan will excitedly say, “Kensie woke up!” and dash up the stairs to see you. His favorite thing to do is crawl into the crib with you and choose a song to sing. Either “Rise and Shine”, “Alleluia”, or “Good Morning to You”.
• You are the messiest, drooliest eater I’ve ever seen. Well, between the two I’ve seen <grin>.
• “Meghan poopy pants” is an appropriate nickname I’ve earned being your momma. At least six times now you have exploded, and I mean exploded your monstrosity of a diaper onto me. Daddy has managed to forego such unpleasantries. He’s due, girlfriend.
• Oh, how I love our momma-daughter times when Brennan is at school. It affords me the opportunity to give you some undivided attention.

Kensington Jane, you are special. Special, special, special. Oh, how God made you so special. May that truth be deeply embedded in your soul. A prayer for you that keeps coming forth from my heart that the Holy Spirit impresses upon me is that Jesus would be your everything, that you would be blessed with the gift of faith knowing that He is always and will forever be Enough.

Whom have I in heaven but you and earth has nothing I desire besides you. My flesh and my heart my fail, but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever.

Psalm 73:25-26

Simply trusting,

*Excerpts from a journal entry dated October 5, 2011

Be Gone With You

I realize that in my attempt to avoid long-windedness for a change, my last post entitled Common Chub easily lent itself to confusion without a few words of context. On the left is a picture of Brennan when he was eight weeks old and on the right is Kensington. Kensie is shy a little chub (Brennan has always been in the 95th percentile for both weight and height, and petite Kensie is in the 25th percentile for both). But they still show some striking resemblances.

_________________________________________________________________

It’s time to look fear straight in the eye and say, “Be gone with you!”

I have long recognized how fear has gripped my life and brought me to a screeching halt. Interestingly enough, I would not describe myself as a fearful child, but the grip of fear, slowly but steadily, wrapped around me through the years. I am in a choke-hold that affects nearly every decision and word. Even now, I am at a loss for words because I feel they will be inadequate. Learning to write these posts for an audience of One versus you whose faces I know and don’t know, despite how dear you are to me, is one of the many ways my fear plays out. How so?

Well, for one, the fear of what people will think of me. Will I say the right things? Does this offend someone? What do they think of me as a parent? Do they approve? I can’t admit that to her; she wouldn’t want to be my friend. It is rather a pitiful existence to be bent on trying to please others out of a fear of what they will think of me. Exhausting as well, fraught with worry.

How else does my fear play out? The fear of being insignificant. Oh, how the accolades of elementary through high school were somewhat of a disservice to me. The fear of not being known or recognized, successful, important in life. The fear of not mattering or making a difference. And why is it that we feel like we must be famous or well-known to make us more significant in life?

Add to that a fear that rattles my core: the fear of failure. Messing up time and time again with our budget. Not being faithful in praying and having time with Jesus. And don’t get me started about an overwhelming fear of failing as a mother. I don’t have a clear picture in my mind of all the ways I’d declare and define myself as a failure as a mother. I just know I fear messing up so badly.

On another finger in which I count my fears, I name the fear of loss. I have a wrong image of God that contradicts who He’s proven to be in my life and who He says He is in His Word. I need this picture of Him to change, and I want it to change. Until then, I stand in fear of what He will allow to sift my life. What losses in the way of death, financial ruin, or aloneness for example, will He allow to make me more like Him?

As a result, my hands are out in arm’s length letting Jesus in only so far as to (hopefully) not get hurt. I’ve grieved, and there’s so much in life I don’t understand (and that I’ve questioned). So much loss that is painful to go through and watch loved ones endure, but I stand in awe of His goodness. For the God of compassion, kindness, and faithfulness that I know Him to be, how could I stand afraid of Him?

This post is out of a response to Angie Smith’s request to join in the special {in}courage community preparing to read her new book, What Women Fear: Walking in Faith that Transforms, by answering the question: What are you afraid of? I hope to journey with the other women online reading this book and offer you the invitation to join us as well. May we be given a fresh dose of courage to step out and allow the Lord to work in us, so that we may testify that truly, “Fear has gone, freedom has come!”

Simply trusting,

I always love your comments. In fact, I hate to admit how much I check to see if I’ve received one <grin>. For this post though, I am opting to close comments. Much love to you!

Favorite Foto Friday

Does it count that I started this post on Friday?

Thank you all for agreeing with me in prayer in my last post. Matt has been in Canada since Tuesday, and we will be overjoyed to have him home tomorrow. At the same time, we will be so sad to see Mees depart. She has blessed us tremendously with laughter, helping hands, food, and fun outings. I could not have done it without her help! 

Our family is also grateful for Matt's dad's recovery. We were not sure Ed was going to make it through last week; it could have gone either way because of a blood condition that makes him highly prone to clotting. Such clotting around the stents after his heart attack last week is what caused his second heart attack on Monday. He has a lengthy recovery ahead of him with a few glitches like allergic reactions to some meds, but we are hopeful and anticipate his discharge from the hospital either Sunday or Monday. While his and Ruth's meeting of Kensington will be postponed until later this fall, we praise Jesus for the gift of more time and the opportunity we trust he will have to meet her.

Now here are some of my favorite pics from the last two weeks.

The Mister and Little Missy soaking in the rays and the blessing of a bit cooler days outside to play. Who knew 90 degrees could feel cool?

She looked so pretty until her Guinness Book of World Records diaper blowout that covered nearly her entire belly and backside and leaked a huge puddle of poo onto my pants. You know you have good friends when they stay to help you in the parking lot after lunch to get you and your daughter cleaned up. I have rightfully earned the nickname, "Meghan Poopy Pants", thus saving my precious girl from the shame.

The smile. Oh, the smile.

 

Football season has commenced! The next few pictures were taken last Sunday before the TX A&M game and our dear buddy, Evan's, birthday party. Brennan needs his Uncle Mac to help him with the "Gig 'Em" sign, but the school spirit is still evident (he's just waving his index finger up and down).

This picture cracks me up. Kensie is top-heavy with the big bow while Brennan looks at her annoyed that she's crying.

That's better.

Can't believe this was him 2 years ago:

And this is him now:

This past Tuesday, Brennan started a two-days a week preschool/Mother's Day Out. He was ecstatic! The day we met his two teachers he ran in the room, waved at me and said, "Bye, Bye, Momma". I wasn't sure I should cry over his confidence and excitement or that he is old enough to be going to 'school'! 

Some of his all-time favorite books are the If You Give A Mouse a Cookie series which includes If You Take a Mouse to School.  I surprised him with a small stuffed mouse character from the books for him to take in his back pack to school. Along with his Toy Story cup, the dude is set.

Oh, my heart.

We pulled into the school parking lot the first day with Brennan saying, "My's school! My's school!" After hearing, "When I going to school?" at least twenty-five times that morning before leaving, I wasn't surprised in the least when once again, he went into his classroom with a smile on his face, beelining it for the play animals. 

Kensington and I went home and took advantage of some rest time. I felt so lost walking into our home without Brennan. What a great start I was off to when I woke up in a startle at 12:55 p.m., five minutes before I needed to leave to pick up our bestest boy buddy (and I was hoping to feed Kensie before leaving)! I was gonna be the mom who was late picking up her child the first day of school because I overslept! Thankfully, we made it in time, but goodness gracious, Meg.

Thank you, again, for your prayers and encouragement to our family! I'm grateful, dear readers.

Simply trusting,

Lord, Have Mercy

With all of our heart and all of our mind, let us pray to the Lord saying, "Lord, have mercy."

 

Father, for Matt's dad who suffered major heart attacks and is struggling in his recovery, may he have full restoration of health and strength. Lord, have mercy.

For those who have lost loved ones and homes in the Texas wildfires, bring them comfort and peace, provision of shelter and care and the ceasing of the fires. Lord, have mercy.

For those overcome by fear and anxiety, may you remind them of Your loving-kindness, faithfulness, and presence. Lord, have mercy.

For those in chronic pain, emotional and/or physical, show Yourself strong on their behalf and bless them with healing and the strength to endure. Lord, have mercy.

For the calming of the raging storms and floods and for the abundance of needed rain on drought-ridden land. Lord, have mercy.

For those buried under the weight of depression, give them restoration of joy. Lord, have mercy.

For those afflicted with guilt in their decisions and the fear of failure, assure them of Your grace and the power of the Cross. Lord, have mercy.

For those needing direction, give them clarity of Your will. Lord, have mercy.

For the men and women of service, firefighters and police, who are fighting the horrific Texas blazes day and night, protect and sustain them. Lord, have mercy.

For those who are lonely and overcome by grief, may You help them remember You will never leave them or forsake them, and that you are the God of all comfort. Lord, have mercy.

In thanksgiving, we praise You for traveling mercies on Matt and his family to be with his dad and the treasured moments they're sharing as a family; sparing my parents' home in the wildfire; the good health of our growing children; the dear loved ones who are praying for us.

We exalt you, O God our King.

And praise Your Name forever and ever. Amen.

"O give thanks unto the LORD; for he is good; for his mercy endures for ever."

1 Chronicles 16:34

 

Please add your own petitions in a comment as you feel led, and I will pray in agreement with you.

Simply trusting,

The First Month

While there are parts of the day, particularly the mornings, when I have to remind myself to slow down and breath, that there’s no reason to be hurried and stressed trying to get everything together for two kiddos, the parts of the week when my heart swells with so much joy it might burst, outweigh the frenzy. I am astounded at what God has graced me with these two children.

We are a family of four. The word that describes it for me: complete. The urge to jump on a plane or hop in the car spontaneously for a family vacation has been precipitated not just to escape this hades-like summer, but more so to start making memories as a family. Not that we’re not doing that already or that the ones with just Brennan are lessened. But sometimes it feels as if life as our family is just beginning. It makes me want to burst through the gates with gusto and embrace it. Relish it.

Our sweet Kensie is a month old. That first week of her life I was a mess, constantly sitting in a puddle of tears feeling as if the rug had been taken out from underneath me and I’d never be the same.

Week two looked slightly brighter. My Momma’s presence was comforting and helpful. Although the thoughts of, “How in the world am I ever going to do this,” dominated my mind.

We also discovered Kensington lost the weight she gained back after coming home from the hospital and dropped to 6 pounds. It was a shocking blow when I thought feeding was going so well. Thus the latter part of week two and all of week three were pretty excruciating and painful. Back and forth I was about what was best for all of us. Unlike Brennan, the feeding issues pertained to my own body, so said the lactation consultant.

I wrestled (and occasionally still do) with insecurity and the fear of what people think based upon our decision. Finally, and thankfully, we arrived at a very freeing decision based upon what is best for our family. Right now it works for us. I am pumping three times a day, which is very workable at this time, and something with which my body is very familiar. Then we’re supplementing with formula. I share this info publicly with you because I have a testimony with Brennan that is just as powerful to me today as it was then. And it’s also a way I can confront my own battle with the insecurity I faced in making the decision. There might even be another momma out there who would hopefully feel less shame and embarrassment knowing the joy of gazing into her child’s big eyes while giving her  a bottle by reading some of this.

That said, my little girl is finally growing and putting on some weight. She’s a lanky thing with long arms and legs. But her face is filling out and she enjoys her food immensely. She has a very cute ‘licking her chops’ sound with her puckered lips. I anticipate finding out her weight next week.

She has one small dimple on her left cheek. The tiny birthmark on her left eyelid is diminishing, but she still has some angel kisses on the back of her neck.

Pure sweetness is what she is. She’s a very laid back baby like her brother and doesn’t mind the car seat or driving, which is a good thing because we haul her everywhere. While one of the things I struggle with is guilt over feeling like I’m neglecting one child over the other depending on what I’m doing at the moment, Kensie fits into our family really well and loves to be a part of what we do as we tote her from one activity to the next.

Kensington loves to be held. She’s most content in someone’s arms, preferably with their hand resting gently on her cheek to feel even closer, safer. We manage to go on a few walks in the morning and play outside a bit, but it’s been so hot she mostly enjoys the outdoors by looking out the window. If she’s really upset, the best soothing technique we have is to step outside with her and it will calm her in a matter of seconds. Matt thinks it’s because the heat sucks the life right out of her <grin>. We’ve taken her to the pool with Brennan a few times where she seems to sleep better than in our home. She does not like to be cold! Warm baths are soothing, and like her Momma and great-grandmother, her nose is always cold.

She’s still in newborn-sized clothes and diapers, but we have so many cute summery 3-month outfits that I’m dressing her in those, too, before we run out of time and it gets too cold. I’m praying for cold weather in faith.

She perks up whenever she hears Brennan. He helps with her diapers, her pacis, and wants to be with us when she has a bath. She welcomes his affection.There will be times he gets frustrated when she’s crying and say, “No, Kensie.” He wants to know what’s wrong: “Kensie hungry?” “Tummy hurt?” “Dirty diaper?”. The other day when Brennan was playing with the Cars character, Sally, I asked him if he thought Sally was pretty. He said, “No, Kensie is pretty.”

My darling girl eats about every 3 hours and can do a 4 hour stretch with sleeping. We’re still figuring out the first and last feedings of the day as well as naptimes. I used to keep very detailed journals about Brennan’s feeding and sleeping. Not so with Kensie. Matt and I both are pretty tired as the nights have been touchy with both kids. But that means I can snuggle with her during our afternoon nap, which thankfully, has lined up with Brennan’s.

Sara asked how we came up with the name Kensington Jane. I first saw Kensington on a birth announcement in my doctor’s office and really liked its beauty and uniqueness. It grew on Matt, who really liked the nickname Kensie (which we’re now spelling with an ‘s’ to have less confusion than with a ‘z’. We like to be complicated like that. And we have no preference on which you call her). ‘Kensington’ doesn’t have a special meaning other than ‘an English town’. Mac and Julie asked if she was named after our honeymoon spot in England <grin>. No, no she’s not. Ha!

Jane is very special, and we knew it would be her middle name for awhile. Jane is not only both my Momma’s and Gaga’s middle names (Donna Jane and Sarah Jane, respectively), Jane goes back in my family all the way to my great-great-great-great grandmother. I have much joy in my Momma and grandmother being Kensie’s namesake. I think it’s a lovely name and means “God is gracious”. May Kensington know that to be true and leave a legacy on generations to come testifying to it.

Simply trusting,

Let the Little Children Come to Me

Climbing into the rocking chair, I lift my swollen feet onto the ottoman and breath a deep sigh before attempting to pick up my thirty-six pound, stout man-child. He shifts his body just so to try to find the perfect spot to the side of me since my belly is an ever-growing rotund obstacle. I take a few more deep breaths and reach over to the side table to grab The Jesus Storybook Bible.

Brennan’s eye immediately is drawn to a small 2x4 picture on the hardcover showing a man, Jesus, holding a child in His lap while surrounded by a few other miniature people of young age. “Jesus. Children,” he says as his finger points to the picture and his eyes navigate their way toward my own, signaling my cue to affirm what he’s seeing. “Yes,” I say. “Jesus loves little children. He loves you so much!”

Flipping through the pages to find the story we left off on, pictures of an ark with animals whizzes by, as does a huge tower built to reach the heavens, and the sea miraculously spreading apart as thousands of people cross over. We land upon our bookmarked page with a giant clad in armor and a small ruddy boy, albeit with a handsome appearance, holding nothing but a slingshot but who has a huge heart of faith knowing God is on his side.

Never sure how much we read and talk about soaks into the boy’s heart, he grabs the Bible and carries it into his big boy room, climbs into bed, and tucks the book underneath a pillow. He drifts off for a nap, as do I.

Sometimes too quickly, the sounds of crying or rustling protrude through the staticky sound monitor. Huffing and puffing, I make my way upstairs, pausing a moment before entering his room to catch my breath. When did I become so out of shape? The door creaks open and I find a boy hovering over his Bible. With a gleaming eye he looks at me and points to the book saying, “Mommy! Jesus! Children!” He’d flipped through the whole Bible to find the story with Jesus holding the child on His lap that matched the picture on the cover.

 

Only God knows the depth of a child’s precious faith that is more valuable than gold. That Brennan is drawn to this story of Jesus holding the children on His lap is mysteriously astounding to me and grabs my attention; oh, that he would know how much Jesus loves him and the plans and purposes God has for him! My motherly love doesn’t come close to that of the Father’s heart for little children and the desire He has to show them who He is, His beauty, power and majesty.

From my own life, many of my stories of the Lord’s faithfulness and His desire to show me more of Himself are from when I was a child. They’re stories I treasure and hold onto, stabilizers and solid foundation pieces when I am swayed with doubt in my older years.

One of the most frequent prayers I usher before the throne of God on behalf of my children is that they they would have markers during the very early years of their lives to hold onto in remembrance of His faithfulness. I pray they’d hear His voice, know the promptings of the Spirit in their hearts. That they would love talking to Jesus, asking Him things and celebrating when they know He’s answered their cries.

Jesus beckons the little children to come to Him. Faith like a child, this is what pleases the Father. I want to be a mother who instills a rhythm of life that celebrates the workings of God throughout our days and helps shape these precious ones entrusted to me to have eyes to see Him in everything, that from the time they are little, they would have nuggets of gold, “rocks of remembrance”, rejoicing and praising their Creator.

Their valuable lives can hold unimaginable stories of His whisper and Presence, of things Unseen.

I humbly share with you a few ways I wish I was more consistent and diligent in fostering a pulse of prayer and encouragement of the Spirit’s work in Brennan’s heart. They are a rudimentary outpouring of my heart that wants to be more open to and aware of His leading and wants to invite Brennan and Skittles to live in (and delight in living in) the Presence of the Almighty.

• Reading from a children’s Bible and talking about the stories. Out of the three we own, The Jesus Storybook Bible has been my favorite. We try to do this before his nap on most days. And sometimes Brennan protests to reading from it until I include another of his favorite books to read, too.
• Praying before bedtime and meals. Asking Brennan who he wants to pray for, letting him take part in the prayer or in lists of thanksgiving.  We’re met many times with, “No,” and we’ll go ahead and pray, not wanting to force anything. And other times, he’ll go on with a lengthy list that usually includes Buzz Lightyear and puppies.
• Taking snippets from The Voice of the Martyrs kids blog and newsletter, Kids of Courage, to talk about. For example, the recent newsletter featured stories on Bible smuggling into China, and we talked about how thankful we are to have our own Bibles and prayed for those who don’t.
• Praying for a nation with Brennan’s globe.
• Stopping in the middle of the day to pray for someone and taking time (a really brief time!) to stop and listen to the Lord.
• Encouraging Brennan to talk to Jesus at anytime and how much Jesus loves to hear him talk about anything. And ask, “Brennan, what did Jesus tell you back? He loves to talk back to you, too.”
• Rocks of remembrance. As a family when we have an answered prayer to celebrate, we’ll write it on a rock and put it in a vase on our mantle. Some of these rocks Brennan painted while we talked about Deuteronomy 4:9.
• I’m trying to keep up with memorizing two verses a month, and I practice them on our walks or in the car with Brennan so he can hear them.
• There have been really hard days when I’m exasperated as a Momma. I’ll tell Brennan that it’s important for Momma to take some time to sit and be quiet before Jesus to tell Him what’s on my heart and what I’m feeling. I’ll plop myself down on the floor and take a moment before God (and it also serves as an example to Brennan) to express my utter need for help and dependence on Him.
• And there’s always the moments I need to ask for his forgiveness for being impatient, quick to become angry, or something else of the like.

These are a few things that come to mind to share with you, and I certainly have a long way to go. I have yet to figure out how to have my time with Jesus while Brennan is playing on his own, and since becoming pregnant again, haven’t mustered up the energy to get out of bed before the darling wakes up.

I certainly don’t want them to be rote, but have life. Not out of duty, but out of delight. Not to be perfect, but to live in His Presence. Not forced, but out of sheer love for a God who has given me everything.

Love the LORD your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength. These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts. Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Write them on the doorframes of your houses and on your gates.

Deuteronomy 6:5-9

Simply trusting,

____________________________________________________

I’d love to hear what you all do in your families to encourage a child’s relationship with Jesus, to present opportunities for the Holy Spirit to move in their lives that will be their markers of testimony. Or what stories from recent years or your own childhood do you hold as markers of His faithfulness?

A Little Link Love Here, A Little Link Love There

Good evening, dear Internet peeps! How was your day? 

After cooking for special events in April that left us with tons of of leftovers of the same food to eat for awhile and all our travels in May, I’m finally back into a routine of cooking. It feels good despite the bit of extra time and effort it takes, but savoring the flavorful gems of summer fruits and veggies is extra inspiration. Here are some great new recipes I’ve scoped out and made that were hits with me and the boys.

Peach Melba Shortbread Bars from Southern Living

Chicken and Tortellini Salad served with Bacon Parmesan Tassies from Southern Living

I haven’t made this yet, but it’s on our menu to be served with a large salad with lots of yummy fixin’s. My friend, Amy, made it for her son’s birthday party (minus the tomatoes), and it’s some of the best homemade mac & cheese I’ve ever had.

Y’all will have to peruse this post with some of my favorite summer recipes. I made the Steak & Pasta Salad tonight and have the ingredients for Gaga’s Fruit Compote. I know I’ll make the Colorful Black Bean Salad soon, too. 

I would be remiss if I didn’t promote one of Blue Bell’s newest ice cream flavors that is a hit in our household: Happy Tracks, which is a creamy vanilla ice cream loaded with chocolate-coated peanut butter cups and a dark chocolate fudge swirl. Dog-gone-dangerous! I am painfully aware that most of you in this country do not have Blue Bell. I send my condolences. 

Not sure why I started off with all the food links since I’m full from dinner and nothing sounds appetizing at the moment. Onward I move then to a new discovery:

Pinterest.

Oh, yes, I’ve jumped on that bandwagon. And it’s been so much fun and a great source to collect inspirational ideas ranging anywhere from recipes to arts and crafts to awesome gift ideas. Instead of keeping up with a vast number of bookmarks for your favorite websites, it’s a place where you can “pin” a website to a personally assigned “board”. For example, some of my board titles are:

• For the Love of the Nations (for ideas that promote awareness and appreciation of other cultures) 
• Food for the Foodie (duh!) 
• Sizzlin’ Summer Pastimes (I can’t collect enough creative ideas to do with Brennan this summer, especially in this heat) 
• A Cheerful Giver (gift ideas that either we can make or unique/creative purchased gifts)

This is what a couple of my boards look like at the moment (sorry the pictures aren’t very clear).

From the “Sparking Creativity” board I created, so far Brennan and I have made a rainbow card we sent to Mees. Sadly, she hasn’t received it yet! So this might have to be her proof.  

And yesterday, we had a great time painting some rocks that you can see was another idea I borrowed from Pinterest.

 

 

Another board:

One of our first summer activities that I tried for Brennan and our guests Alex and Evan, were homemade popsicles. But they were a catastrophic flop…and a bit embarrassing. So I’m hoping this website I pinned, or saved, on Pinterest will come in handy: 50+ recipes for homemade popsicles (picture top right hand corner).

If you’re on Pinterest, let me know, or if you’re interested in setting up an account, I have a few invites left that I can use.

Last but not least, I am so, so, so excited for my friend, Marla Taviano, who launched her eBook last night called The Husband’s Guide to Getting Lucky. Don’t run away from me too quickly! As a brand new momma, the very first book I read was Marla’s Changing Your World One Diaper at a Time. It came highly recommended by Amanda, and I’m so glad I read it. It was funny, light-hearted, insightful, very personable, and relatable. It was nothing short of encouraging as I was navigating through the unknown plains and valleys of motherhood. 

She’s also penned a book that I’ve had on my shelf for two years but want and need to read: Is That All He Thinks About? Her desire for healthy, godly, intimate, and FUN marriages is one of her passions, as is missions and the nations of the world, (particularly Cambodia)…yet another reason I love her! I had the privilege of meeting her in person a year and a half ago in Houston. I was the stalker, and she was the graciously receptive one that has been a source of encouragement ever since.

On a personal level without revealing too much or embarrassing my precious husband, as a newlywed, I had specific visions of what our intimate relationship would look like. And well, it wasn’t too long before discovering that life happens. Babies come. I’m carrying an extra fifteen pounds on my body and don’t feel s-e-x-y in the least! Hands off, dude <grin>! 

But on a very real level, it’s an area of our married relationship that is precious, God-given and requires effort and selflessness. And knowing Marla and her heart for marriages, this new book of hers (as well as Is That All He Thinks About?) would be valuable resources to delve into with discernment, sensitivity, prayer, and yes, a bit of a sense of humor. Because while I know Marla approaches this topic with the utmost respect and humility, there will be some fun, light-hearted moments to her writing as well! I mean, just take a look at the cover:

Marla is providing one giveaway copy of The Husband’s Guide to Getting Lucky to one of my readers! 

Here’s how to enter:

A) Leave a comment telling me one or more of the following: 

• A favorite summer activity, trip, or moment you’ve had so far. 
• A prayer request. 
• Something you hope to get out of reading Marla’s book.

OR 

B) Link to The Husband's Guide to Getting Lucky website from your Facebook, Twitter, or any social media you prefer and leave a comment letting me know you did. 

Only one entry per person (just choose option A or B). The winner will be selected at random. Giveaway will end at 12 p.m. on Sunday, June 19th and announced shortly thereafter. 

Love to each of you this evening! 

Simply trusting, 

 

 

Postures for Lent

It is Sunday afternoon, a dreary, cooler day in Austin with touches of spring all around. I have a full tummy after eating Chuy’s Mexican food for lunch, and our little boy is in the process of getting his dirty diaper changed, having left a not-so-fragrant waft as he passed by me on his way to the bathroom. College basketball is on in the background, and I’m trying to put some semblance of a post together, fighting the urge to curl up into a ball and rest, letting the fuzziness of not sleeping well and losing an hour of precious slumber fade away. But my mind keeps going, trying to work its way around all that I’ve been reading and processing lately, all that I heard in church today, the first Sunday of Lent. It was all so meaningful and rich. This isn’t going to be a polished, well-crafted post. It’s simply one for me to record some thoughts that I hope linger in my soul.

This season of Lent, the time between Ash Wednesday and Easter, has been in years past, a time I’ve dreaded, wrecked with heart-ache. And yet, there was always light and hope that crept around the corner, non-coincidentally right around Easter when I could see the beauty that had arisen from the ashes of my grief. It might take a life-time to see it, or maybe it won’t be until we reach heaven’s side will we have eyes to see fully, but there’s nothing about death and grief that with Jesus won’t be turned into life and hope, used for good.

Ann Voskamp’s book, One Thousand Gifts: A Dare to Live Fully Right Where You Are has been pivotal for me in the last month. In the eighth chapter, she writes beautifully about trust and fear, and what it means to live a life of YES! to Jesus. Similarly, we sang “Blessed Assurance” today in church, and the last verse captures the content of Ann’s message perfectly:

Perfect submission, all is at rest; I in my Savior am happy and blest, watching and waiting, looking above, filled with His goodness, lost in His love.

After reflecting on Jesus’ revelation to her about those things, she brings up a real point we all deal with come Monday morning, come the nitty-gritty of life. We forget. Things like schedules, burned toast, crying children steer away our focus from Jesus and His goodness and allow worry to creep in. And there are even bigger things than those that we can find on our plates: “Where is my child’s heart headed? Am I living God’s best for this life or am I bankrupting any legacy of faith?”

That last question stopped me dead in my tracks. I read it over and over again, and there was a pit in my stomach as I continued reading the chapter. I felt uneasy and unsettled. It’s a feeling I’m all too familiar with: fear, anxiety, worry. In a chapter that ironically is about trust and fear (the antithesis of trust, of active-believing faith) I was shaken by a question that wasn’t even the point of her chapter. But her example of that trap of worry is one I fell head into while reading! And maybe, just maybe, the legacy of faith that I’m allowing to be bankrupt from this life of mine is because I’m fearful: fearful of messing up, failing, of missing something important and vital to train my children, of making wrong decisions. And yet, “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave Him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” (Romans 8:32 NIV). In response, Ann writes, “If God didn’t withhold from us His very own Son, will God withhold anything we need?”

My fear of failing limits God, His faithful provision and His love, for both me and my children. What can He not give that He’s already given us in Jesus? He’s wisdom. He’s good. He’s never-ending love. He’s safe. And the more I know of Him, the more I want to trust Him—to live a life of yes. So this Lent, while our family gathers around the Advent-to-Lent Wreath around our dinner table and reads a devotion, there have been a few things that I want this season of Lent to look like in my life as I prepare for Easter. Instead of dreading Lent, of being in fear of what grief or heart-ache I might walk through like in seasons past, I want to be in a posture of the following:

• Having an attitude of humility, recognizing my complete need for Him and my frailty of living in fear; and instead, making a conscious Spirit-guided and Spirit-dependent decision to walk in trust, in active-believing faith.
• To slow down. To be content in the quiet.
• To remember and be thankful, recognizing the immense blessings He’s given; acknowledging His goodness; remembering Jesus Himself, who for the joy set before Him endured the cross (Hebrews 12:2). To live in intentional gratitude, “counting blessings to discover who can be counted on.” (Henry Township)
• To be in prayerful, communion with Jesus.

Our church service today included the Southwell Litany, a set of twenty different prayers that were read aloud and a communal response of, “Save us and help us, we humbly beseech thee, O Lord,” followed. As we started praying, I consciously wanted to single out a few of the prayers that were meant for me, so to speak, ones that targeted my own weaknesses to take home and continue to pray through Lent. Well, out of twenty, every single one had a little sting to it as I recognized that my sins cover the whole gamut of life! But the prayers were so deep and meaningful, rich and comprehensive. I didn’t feel hopeless, just humbled recognizing my need for Jesus. I brought home the prayers to help guide me in my fourth posture. I hope to share a few of these along the way with you, but want to share this one today:

O Lord, free us from weariness in continuing struggles; from despondency in failure and disappointment; from overburdened sense of unworthiness; from morbid fancies of imaginary backslidings, raise us to a lively hope and trust in thy presence and mercy, in the power of faith and prayer; and from all exaggerated fears and vexations.

Save us and help us, we humbly beseech thee, O Lord.

Blessed assurance, Jesus in mine!

This is my story, this is my song,

Praising my Savior all the day long.

 

There is no one like Jesus.

 

Simply trusting,

A World Beyond Our Own

Did you know there is a man in Bangladesh squatting hour after hour, day after day, in the grueling 115 degree heat chiseling away at them to make pennies a day?

Did you know there is a young Muslim teenage girl who had a dream last night of a man who knew her name, who beckoned her to follow Him, who had nail-scarred hands?

Did you hear of the boy, age six, who saw his parents gunned down before his eyes because they were caught in a crossfire between drug lords in Mexico?

Did you know there is a boy in kindergarten who is struggling to learn how to read? And if the statistics are right, and he doesn’t have help to learn to read by the third grade, he’ll be a number the State of Texas counts to project their future inmate populations in prisons.

Did you know of the village in a rural Kenyan town that is moving their bodies in all sorts of wild contortions in jubilee, singing at the tops of their lungs so that the sound echoes through the valley, filled with excitement over the newly dug well? They finally have fresh, drinking water!

Have you heard of the father, worn out and wrinkled from fretting over how he would provide for his family after dolling out their family’s savings to tend to his ailing son after the local shaman required it of him?

____________________________

With my index finger gingerly placed on the sphere of land masses and bodies of water, I give the globe a hearty spin so that it whirls around and around, my finger sliding gently up and down so that it covers both the Northern and Southern Hemispheres. Finally, it comes to a stop. Will that be the next place I go? It lands in the middle of the Pacific Ocean. Probably not. Around and around the globe spins again, and this time my finger lands on India. Just maybe.

At the formidable, young age of thirteen, my parents wrestled against their own minds and hearts, as well as the naysayers who didn’t understand how they could be in their right mind to let their daughter fly half-way across the world with a group of other kids and a few adults who wanted to introduce them to the nations and teach them how to share the love of Jesus to those they met. Emotions raw from anticipating the six weeks of separation and nerves a bit frayed, in faith my parents sent me on that plane with tons of hugs and kisses, and prayers both cried out and whispered for my safe keeping. And thus, I was introduced to the world beyond my own. A  world of other cultures, of people who did things vastly different, yet beautiful in their own way. A world of poverty and death that you wish you could rub away from your eyes after seeing it, but it’s burned on them. Burned on your eyes and your heart. Just as it should be.

Traditions, food, customs, dress, habits, lifestyles of the whole-wide-world were opened before me as I boarded that plane and numerous others to land on nearly every continent and dozens of countries since I was thirteen. It certainly explains the untamable travel bug of mine. And it has shaped every part of who I am, this privilege of seeing the world beyond my own. Not to negate the genuine needs of people in my own city, my own neighborhood. Not in the least. But there is nothing like the understanding and acknowledgment of people beyond our own micro world, compassionately recognizing both the desperation of need that most of the rest of the world faces, and also the appreciation of other people, of other cultures.

A globe. A spherical representation of the earth is what Brennan received from us for his second birthday. An odd gift choice for a two year old. He’s likely to want to use it as a basketball. And if you’re anything like my husband, you have the same quizzical look on your face reading this as he did when I broached the idea with him. The love for the nations pulses through my veins. While Brennan may not have the same travel experiences as I, nor is that my aim, I hope a love for the nations pulses through him as well, a compassion for the poor and needy, for those who need to know Jesus. And it’s never too early to instill that in him.

For a brief moment this week, we set aside the toys. Placing the globe in front of Brennan, he started twirling it; it’s instinct. I placed his tiny finger on the ball of blue and brown and showed him how to hold it there gently while the globe spun around and around, just like I did as a child, just like I still do today. It landed on China. So for a few minutes, we sat together and prayed for a special friend of ours in China who is there for a couple of weeks teaching business and finance to students.

Thus it begins, as is my hope and prayer, that as the spinning and praying become part of our life, that there would be instilled in Brennan a Jesus-longing in his heart for the people represented by the boundary lines and colors of each country of the world on that globe. A God-breathed love for the world beyond our own.

 

After this I looked, and there before me was a great multitude that no one could count, from every nation, tribe, people and language, standing before the throne and before the Lamb. They were wearing white robes and were holding palm branches in their hands. And they cried out in a loud voice:  “Salvation belongs to our God, who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb.”

Revelation 7:9-10