Spicy Magnolia

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.

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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!

An Exterior Heart

“Being a parent is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.” Despite not knowing the origin of that phrase, I’ve heard it enough in the last two and a half years of parenting to know it’s an accurate analogy and feeling. Vulnerable. Exposed. Raw. Most of the time, it’s as if my heart constantly wears a grin. Other times, it turns a blush red, wanting to hide out of embarrassment. And then there are the inevitable, excruciating moments that immediately trigger the tug, pull, and rip. And my tear ducts well up, taking only a second till those drops trickle down my cheeks.

Some of the most valuable gifts Brennan has received in his two and a half years of life are older friends who include him, play well with him, and enjoy being his buddy. They each have been a great example of how to joyfully include younger playmates. We’ve also stepped foot in a home where an eleven year old took it upon himself to play with Brennan, not forcefully put upon him by his mother, but out of a deliberate choice to welcome my son. And may I suggest it was an attribute molded in part by his parents who encouraged sensitivity to others and inclusion. The exhilaration that exudes from Brennan when he can work his way into playing with older kids, particularly older boys who happily include him, sparks the grin on my exterior heart.

In recent weeks, there have been two occasions where Brennan has developed a new facial expression based upon his environment. In watchfulness with hopefully accurate discernment, I think I pinpointed the reason for this distinct look that is accompanied by shrugged shoulders, eyes fixed to the ground, a somber frown of disappointment, and a deep sigh. It’s my son’s sign of feeling excluded, forlorn, unable to break into a game of play with kids he’s specifically selected to be the ones with whom he wants to run around.

One particular incident to which I’m referring is actually no deliberate or hurtful fault of the three older boys Brennan desperately and repeatedly tried to engage. The boys ranged in age from three to seven, all brothers, completely engrossed in running around and chasing each other. They were mesmerized in their own fun, oblivious to the younger one trying to keep up. There’s nothing necessarily wrong with that. Each time Brennan would spot the boys coming around the corner, he’d take off again, smiling, trying his very best to get their attention. Each failed attempt, he’d walk back to me with that new look of dejection.

Insert: teachable moment.

We talked about what a blessing his older friends, like Evan & Harrison, have been to include him, mindful of his feelings and kindly play with him. We chatted a bit about him having eyes to see others around him who need a friend and how we always want to include others, no matter the differences, making them feel welcomed and valued. He can put into practice what he’s learned from his good, older buddies.

He went about playing again, once again trying to keep up with the three boys. At the same time, there was a girl, age six or so, who sadly walked up to her momma sitting behind me and said, “The girl I was playing with left. I need someone to play with.” Her momma sent her on her way, and despondently, she continued to scope out the playground for ten minutes, trying to find a new playmate.

My boy returned to our table after another fizzled attempt to play with the big boys. I reiterated my earlier schpeal, knowing that I verbally (and in writing, my dear readers) can be too verbose. So I thought another attempt at talking about these points as best I could at a two year old level wouldn’t hurt. Lastly, I pointed to the six year old girl also looking for a playmate. “See that little girl? She’s looking for a friend to play with, too. You should ask her if she wants to play with you. See how you can include her.”

He scampered off toward her and in his two-year old language, mumbled something to the girl. Off they went, the girl quickly climbing up the playscape with Brennan in tow. He was smiling, and I wore the grin, on my face and on my heart. She blazed down the playscape as quickly as she went up, turned back to look at Brennan who was still following her, and she bee-lined it to her mother. I was not prepared for the piercing conversation between the girl and her mother that ensued. “That little boy keeps chasing me.” To which her mother replied, “Well, he wants to play with you.” And out of those young lips came the deafening words, “But I don’t want to play with him.”

Cue the tug. The pull. The rip. The tears. A giggle was the mother’s only response. Thankfully, Brennan was still paces away and wasn’t in earshot. While I tried to compose myself, grateful my back was to the momma and the girl, I grabbed Brennan and gave him an extra squeeze, affirming his decision to bravely walk over to the girl and ask her to play with him, doing so quietly as I didn’t want to cause any further offense, and well, I was choked up.

In that teachable moment, I realized how much those purposeful bits of time aren’t just about talking but doing, putting them into action. I wasn’t prepared, however, for the potentially painful lessons to start so early. And despite any desire to shield my children from people’s arrows, intentional or not, teaching him to wear a silver-plated breastplate to cover his heart isn’t the remedy. I’d much rather have my son soft-hearted and teachable, his thoughts bent on others’ needs, with hands and feet swift to act in love. Now if only I can remain courageous to wear my exposed heart outside my body and exemplify the same things to him.

Simply trusting,

Worthwhile Watching

Hope y’all are having a great Fourth of July! Anyone planning to see an amazing fireworks display? All of ours were scrapped this year because of the horrible drought, but it’s not like we would camp out in the heat, endure the crowds, or stay up late to watch the dazzling color-fest tonight. Some years, yes. But not this one.

Instead, our highlights will be based around food: blueberry pancakes and eggs for breakfast, and some hefty burgers with chips and the tomato-watermelon salad with feta and toasted almonds for dinner. Other than that, it’s been a low-key day with rest and a few errands. I think I have a new store I need to better familiarize myself with: Kohl’s. It looks like a good one-stop shop.

There’s one thing I think is worthwhile to bring to your attention and ask you to watch for five minutes. My precious friend, Corrie, called me back in May to share an incredible story. It spurred the already twirling thoughts in my mind that were formulating this post. As a family, we stood with the Shireys rejoicing and giving many thanks to God, who clearly exhibited His power and His desire to show Himself strong, allowing 2.5 year old Guy to carry this treasured testimony in his heart for the rest of his life. Take a moment to hear all about it yourself. 

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Thank you to those in centuries past and in our present age that have fought for, secured, and defended the freedoms we so liberally enjoy in The United States of America. May we continue to adhere to the spirit and intent of our Constitution, and know the One who gives us true and everlasting freedom.

“[The adoption of the Constitution] will demonstrate as visibly the finger of Providence as any possible event in the course of human affairs can ever designate it.”

--George Washington

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,

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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?

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?

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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

A Look at Christmas Past

Grab a cup of hot tea or hot chocolate before reading this post. If it’s as cold where you are as it is here, I know a hot drink is just the necessary concoction to warm you up through and through. Here are some pictures from our Christmas in Virginia with Matt’s family that cover the highlights.

We arose at 3 a.m. on the 23rd to catch a 6:30 a.m. flight on Southwest, which is by far the best airline in the industry. We saved at least $200 on bag fees! We flew through Chicago going to and from Virginia, which had the potential to be very hairy. Fortunately, there were no hiccups on our way out east, and we narrowly flew out one hour before they closed Midway because of freezing rain on our way home. It would not have been pleasant in the least to be one of those families stuck on the Midway tarmac for 7 hours.

Upon our arrival in D.C., Matt’s dad picked us up and we joined Mac and Julie for a quick lunch before we made the trek to Charlottesville. We ate at a burger place that sparked tons of memories. Mac didn’t remember one iota about Henry J’s, a burger place we ate at regularly as little tikes with Gaga. I take that back; he remembered the layout of the building, but nothing of the burgers. I had this picture snapped of Brennan playing with the Trivial Pursuit cards because Henry J’s used to put the same ones on their tables. It simply provokes sweet memories to me.

 

Our beloved Mac and Julie! It was a treat to see them for a couple of hours. Mac is still wallowing in pity as Brennan made much ado about Julie, and him, not so much. I’m jesting a lot about Mac right now; I love that boy to pieces. Oh wait, he’s not a ‘boy’ so much as a grown, aging man who will be 30 in a few weeks <grin>!! Hahahaha!!

We had a full house! There were ten of us all together between Matt’s folks, Melissa, and Tom and Kim and their two boys. Yep, that’s right. Three two-and-a-half year old boys under the same roof for five days. It was WILD! It was our first time to meet Baxter, our youngest nephew, who is now 7.5 months old!

Our first full day in Charlottesville was Christmas Eve. This picture was taken right before we left for the Christmas Eve service. The little guy looked so handsome and thankfully, did really well through his first full church service. It even seemed as though he was listening intently to the pastor.

 

Brennan’s new favorite position: riding on Daddy’s shoulders.

 

This girl, Kimberly, was our amazing chef for most of the week! I’m talkin’ gourmet chef kinda cookin’, y’all. For Christmas Eve dinner, she made a fabulous gorgonzola stuffed chicken breast with a cherries jubilee sauce. Look at her plate; it was divine! And for dessert, she made a pumpkin ice cream pie with graham cracker crust and chocolate shavings on top. For our last night together, she made a steak with a balsamic reduction sauce, roasted potatoes and butternut squash and a salad with pomegranate seeds and other juicy fruit. I really need those recipes! And once I have the time and energy to cook like that again, they’ll be the first things I make <grin>. We ate like kings and queens!

 

Brennan misses eating such feasts! One thing to note about the food, was that Brennan became obsessed with clementines. He’d eat at least 6 at a meal.

 

Our family tradition since I was little is to open one package on Christmas Eve and it’s always new PJs to wear to bed. Here we are opening Brennan’s PJs together. That’s as close as he got to me; once he knew they were PJs, he wasn’t as interested in the present <grin>.

 

We three are the early birds when it comes to Matt’s side of the family. While we are in bed by 10 p.m., everyone is up till at least midnight and then they sleep in, while we’re up with Brennan around 7 a.m. So we always have the quiet mornings to ourselves. We woke up to the delight of snow flurries on Christmas morning! You can’t see them in the picture, but they were there. No one else witnessed the flurries that morning, so it was a little Christmas treasure we tucked away in our hearts.

 

Isn’t the tree pretty!? Ruth did such a lovely job with it and the rest of the home. She always makes me feel very welcomed.

 

Look at the precious family of four, all cheery on Christmas morn.

 

An up-close of Baxter.

 

This is what Brennan looked like often while in Virginia, mesmerized by a Thomas the Train video on the TV.

 

We opened stockings first, then had an incredible breakfast of pumpkin waffles, bacon and scrambled eggs with green onions, tomatoes and spinach. Brennan ate three waffles, keeping up with his Daddy! Here are Jadon and Brennan eating together like big boys. The Thomas the Train on the table is noteworthy. Despite having one each, they were the cause of many disputes. Those boys are passionate about Thomas. We’re obviously in a season of learning to share.

 

After breakfast, we dug into the presents. There were a lot; it was pretty overwhelming for little Brennan, and me for that matter.

 

What gifts can you recall being given that made you feel humbled and undeserving of that gift? One of the most obvious gifts such as these would be Jesus’ love for me and His saving grace. Talk about undeserved! That gift of His by far tops all others in this category. But I’m thinking more in terms of meaningful tangible gifts or acts of service that cause you to pause and recognize, “I really don’t deserve this gift.” The depth of love behind the gift is indisputable. There have been a number throughout my life that my family has given me that made me feel that way, and in turn, it’s made me extremely grateful and assured of their love for me.  Amazingly, I received two such gifts during our time in Virginia. Ed & Ruth published my post called You Can Do It, Brennan. It’s a beautiful and meaningful gift! First, they recognized my love for blogging/writing. I’ve never shared with them, or anyone really, about a dream of being published, but when they said, “Now you’re published!”, it was a sweet note to my heart. The gift of being believed in. And as they said that, tears swelled in my eyes while I whispered back to Jesus, “Yes, Lord, if this is the only way I’m published, the story of the lives in the book are what will last, and that’s what I want.” Second, they know my love for Brennan and the joy I have as a momma. And that was a special couple of afternoons he and I shared together!

The second gift such as this I received was from Tom and Kim. Kim spent hours working on publishing a cookbook with all of the recipes I’ve posted on the blog, or made reference to, with pictures and snippets of my writings that went along with each recipe, noting the memorable event and faces that were a part of that moment. Wow, it’s incredible! As I read through it, I was flooded with priceless memories and precious faces of loved ones that have been drawn together by these recipes, some favorites from other cookbooks and some timeless family recipes. She knows my love for cooking and my love to make events special for others.

I had no idea they were working on these projects; I was completely surprised. I’ll be the first to admit that I am not the best in-law. That can be a post for another time, but their extravagant love of time and creativity poured forth into these gifts left me humbly and wonderfully staggered with affection. And the sober realization their gifts are very undeserved. I’m grateful! The beautiful books now take up permanent residence on our coffee table, and Brennan loves reading our story.

 

 

Christmas Day is also Ed’s birthday, and this year happened to be his 60th! Usually we have a big extended party on Christmas night, but we moved it to Sunday evening so we could leisurely enjoy Christmas and have a special evening for Ed. Actually, Ruth’s 60th birthday is the end of January, so we kids plotted the evening to be a combined birthday celebration since we were all together. I was in charge of Christmas dinner and made crostinis topped with pesto, sundried tomatoes and feta to start off; Pioneer Woman’s lasagna; garlic bread; a salad full of goodies; and chocolate Texas sheet cake. For the parentals’ gift, we managed to arrange a getaway trip later in the year to a beach near Destin, FL as a special 60th birthday family celebration.

 

Full plates=full tummies.

 

Jadon and Brennan helping blow out the birthday candles.

 

On Sunday the 26th, we spent most of the day getting ready to host just over 30 people for a dinner party! We needed the whole day! We took a break to take Jadon and Brennan sledding. You saw Brennan’s picture in the last post. He was not crazy about sledding. Nor the snow. Nor the cold. A true-blooded Texan he is <grin>. But Matt and I love the cold and the snow, so we’ll help him adjust. That means more trips to Colorado <grin>! Jadon, on the other hand, loved it.

 

The fresh snow we woke up to on Sunday morning.

 

Right before the house exploded with people and became very chaotic, we took a calm family photo <grin>.

 

The first batch of first-cousins and spouses who were at the party. This picture excludes all our offspring (and there are a lot!) who were running around playing. I was so thankful for Tom, who could relate to me and desire to find a quiet corner in the house to escape the crowd. I say all this very light-hearted because it is a fun party. Those of us who happened to marry into the family, however, acknowledge that it is a tad overwhelming <grin>, so we do our part to try to have meaningful one-on-one conversations while stationed in a quiet part of the house.

 

On Monday morning, Melissa treated the boys to a special outing at Bounce-n-Play. I stayed back to rest a bit, but it looked like an incredible indoor play area I wish were in Austin! Brennan was most fascinated by the kitchen.

 

Matt’s Grandpa wasn’t feeling very well and didn’t attend the Christmas Eve service nor the party, so we stopped by on Monday afternoon to see him. Our visit with him, while brief, was a highlight for me. You have a keen sense of the gift of grandparents and the treasure time is with them when you don’t have any grandparents anymore. My heart was tender toward this 90+ year old man who told Matt that at the beginning of the new year, he was going to write Matt a letter detailing his involvement in World War II, which included serving on D-Day. Like most veterans, he hasn’t shared much about his experience despite our questions. But he has remembered our interest throughout the years and said he would give us this gift for us to save and make copies for other family members. I really, really hope he writes Matt this letter.

 

I don’t have any pictures of our evening, but another highlight was going out with Tom, Kim and Melissa on Monday night! What a treat it was for Ed & Ruth to babysit our three boys. We ended up doing a progressive dinner with appetizers at a tapas bar and then the main course at a lovely restaurant where most of us ordered filet mignon. It was the best night of conversation all week <grin>!

For their Christmas, birthday and anniversary presents (ha!), we gave Ed and Ruth a family photo shoot appointment with a great local photographer, Eric Kelley. It happened to fall on the prettiest and warmest days of our visit, which was a huge blessing. Being the type-A person who planned this photo shoot, I was very anxious about it going smoothly. So it didn’t help matters that our child was the only one who was having a fit, who was uncooperative, crying and had his paci in his mouth for the first half of our shoot. I was flushed red with embarrassment and at a loss for what to do, trying to roll with the punches as much as possible. Of course, loosening up helped <grin>. We had the pictures taken on the UVA campus and I’ll share the link of pictures with you when they’re ready. I hope there are some good ones!

The second batch of first-cousins and spouses who weren’t at the party but who came over for a visit Tuesday afternoon after our family pictures.

 

What a fabulous Christmas! It was full of fun and full of crazy at the same time. Anyone who shares holidays with kiddos can attest to the craziness. Next time we’ll all be together, we’ll be sitting in sand instead of snow.

And that’s a wrap, folks! You best go refill your hot drinks. I’m going to get mine soon; in the meantime, our fire is keeping my tootsies warm. Love to y’all!

“A Christmas Hymn”

Our worship leader at church brought this poem to our attention. And I think it’s worth bringing to yours.

 

A Christmas Hymn

By Richard Wilbur

A stable-lamp is lighted
Whose glow shall wake the sky;
The stars shall bend their voices,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry,
And straw like gold shall shine;
A barn shall harbor heaven,
A stall become a shrine.

This child through David’s city
Shall ride in triumph by;
The palm shall strew its branches,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry,
Though heavy, dull, and dumb,
And lie within the roadway
To pave his kingdom come.

Yet he shall be forsaken,
And yielded up to die;
The sky shall groan and darken,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry
For stony hearts of men:
God’s blood upon the spearhead,
God’s love refused again.

But now, as at the ending,
The low is lifted high;
The stars shall bend their voices,
And every stone shall cry.
And every stone shall cry
In praises of the child
By whose descent among us
The worlds are reconciled.

Beholding a Gift

Most people tear into a package quickly, crumpling the colorful paper into a ball, tossing it aside, racing to see what’s inside the box. Others savor the process of unwrapping the gift, gingerly removing the paper bit by bit so as to not tear the paper. The act of receiving; of someone giving; the whole package, bow and all, are seen as the gift, not just the contents. My Momma and I are savors, and if I remember correctly, so is Matt’s mom.  The rest of the clan are the eager beavers. It’s pretty much guaranteed that at least once on Christmas morning, the methodical unwrappers who tuck away the untarnished paper for another year, will get a bad rap. Pun intended <grin>.

As Brennan turned 22 months old this past week and his second birthday is furiously galloping our way, I find myself reflecting on the gift of his life. For numerous reasons as of late, one thing astounds and sobers me now more than ever: Brennan is a miracle. His thirty-one pound lanky frame with tousled, white-blond hair and soulful, deep blue eyes are a miracle. Some days, his attitude hardly warrants him being labeled a “gift”. Some days, I simply don’t have eyes to see through my own distracted, self-focused, gratitude-less person to appreciate the gift in front of me. Some days the card gets tossed aside, the paper ripped apart, the bow left in knots and pulled off in haste, the wrapping barely noticed. But as inches and pounds and developmental achievements start accumulating, I long to behold this child. I want to unwrap the gift of him slowly, intentionally, admiring and savoring the whole package:

The ketchup-stained fingerprints on my white t-shirt

The “Momma, Momma” beckoning calls with an outstretched hand holding a picked flower

An active boy who can move all sorts of ways: jump, run, dive, climb, turning somersaults

 

 

The incessant, “Wad dat?”s

Helping hands that extend cleaning time

 

 

Messes from tantalizing the taste buds

 

Watching the light bulb go off learning to play Hide & Go Seek

Challenging my out-of-shape body to “cim” (climb) the monkey bars

Extravagant love manhandling of a puppy

 

Treasured friendships that flourish and grow despite age differences…and ego-centric 22-month olds who don’t know how to share

 

The tangible reminder that is this child, that Momma needs to put into practice what Momma teaches

Extended grace from a first-born child (a.k.a. an experiment) when Momma gets too far ahead of the game

 

 

Ever-growing arms long enough to wrap tightly around my neck after requesting, “Up, up, up”

The tiny hands that meticulously maneuver puzzle pieces into place, sometimes exploding into frustration

A face that lights up reading Going on a Bear Hunt for the umpteenth time

One moment happy, the other moment sad

 

Watching the discovery of expression, both likes and dislikes

Aspirations unfolding

 

The excitement of an apple, a penguin, and a smiley face stamped on little hands after fearing stamps for months

Lots of words

Double-dipped guacamole (“mole”) and hummus

The stretching of comfort zones

The clearing away of cobwebs from my imagination, creating games and remembering how to play like a child

 

Oh, Brennan, I want you to know every day of your life that you are a gift. A treasured, adorable gift from God. With all your surprises, messes, energy, sweetness and not, I take you as you are and love you as you are. There will be times I fail and take you for granted, but I long to discover and unwrap you with care, thoughtfulness, and gratitude. Words fall short to express the volcano of affection I have toward you, and the absolute delight I take in you as your Momma. You make ordinary moments extraordinary. Despite my best efforts to slow time, it will continue to whip around us without regard to our wishes. But I can make every intention to savor the masterfully wrapped package that you are, the package I can’t believe was given to me, of all people! Angel boy, I humbly and hog-wildly receive you!

 

Simply trusting,

 

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, dear ones!

For the Next Generation

 

Did y’all know that I have a second brother? That’s the best way I can describe the guy I grew up with who: is my brother’s best friend, regularly raided our refrigerator, traveled with us, spent holidays with our family, and teased me as incessantly as Mac. I think it’s the last point that qualifies him to have the honorable title of “second brother”. I was the ‘good girl’. Mac and Oscar have a track record they will work tirelessly to hide from their children. Funny, my daddy has the same thing: stories about the trouble he got into that he probably never wanted his kids to know about, but stories his kids repeatedly desire to tell a perfect stranger. I should share them some day. They’re classic! Anyway, I digress.

Oscar married his better half, Candis, in 2004. Candis is pure sweetness. I don’t know how Oscar ended up with her. Oh, I jest. I’ve got to have an avenue to which I can return some of the teasing I’ve received for nearly all of my life! By the way, the teasing from my two brothers hasn’t let up! I haven’t had the privilege of tasting the goodies Candis bakes, but the pictures I’ve seen look out of this world! And I know she’s won a few baking contests lately, confirming I need to get my hands on her treats. Oscar and Candis have three kiddos: two young boys, Asher and Ezra, and one little girl, Caris. They currently live in Phoenix, AZ and serve with Student Venture, the branch of Campus Crusade for Christ that serves among high schoolers. Oscar and Candis were personally impacted by the Lord during their youth and know the value of ministering to teenagers. They’ve seen the need to make an impact on today’s youth. They equip students by discipling them through small group Bible studies and providing ministry resources during the school year. During the summers, they also take students across the country and the world, to build upon the love God has for the nations in the students’ hearts. Their basic ministry model is called Build-Send where they win students to Christ, build them in their faith, and send them out to reach others. 

Why am I writing about Oscar and Candis? First, as a parent, I am more profoundly aware of the statistics and the unsettling issues facing the youth of today. We have our heads buried in the sand if we’re not aware of the tumultuous environment our kiddos walk in every day, or think our children won’t face those struggles themselves. I want people like Oscar and Candis who are wise; who make decisions with integrity; who respect others; who step out and do courageous things even when the rest of the world thinks what they do is absurd; who have a living and active relationship with Jesus Christ; who serve wholeheartedly to see high schoolers know Jesus’ grace and glory, His amazing power to transform their lives and help them through anything through which they’re struggling. I want people like Oscar and Candis to have an impact on Brennan and other kids during their youth. Brennan isn’t always going to look to me and his daddy for help and guidance. Prayerfully, people like Oscar and Candis will be there when the time comes to invest in Brennan, leading by example and encouraging him to make right choices.

Secondly, Oscar and Candis are transitioning from Phoenix to Boston where they have a goal “to lead a dynamic ministry team who will equip students to walk with Jesus”. As you can imagine, the cost of living is significantly higher in Massachusetts than it is in Arizona, and as Student Venture staff, Oscar and Candis not only raise all of their financial support, they need 100% of it before they can move. They are looking for prayer partners to support them in their ministry to high schoolers. They are looking for financial supporters as well.

Before I proceed, let me humbly tell you that while this blog platform is small, my heart nevertheless, is to handle the communication on here responsibly and with the utmost respect for my readers. I have come to you before asking for specific prayer for friends and highlighting significant giving opportunities for individuals, causes, and organizations I hold in high regard. There is not an individual, cause or organization that I’ve written about asking for prayer or financial support that Matt and I do not pray and/or financially support first, before bringing it to you (as well as I can remember over the last three years <grin>). This is an opportunity to support and encourage two people whom Matt and I respect and deeply love who have stepped out in faith to see high schoolers lives transformed by the love and power of Christ. They have a need, and some of you just might be the ones to help fill that need.

For those of you who have a heart for the youth for today, whose heart breaks to see all that they’re are wrestling through and know they need Hope, I’d encourage you to think about the following ways you can be moved to action as led by the Lord:

• Take time to visit Oscar and Candis’ website and read about their ministry. Send them a note of encouragement or take time to pray for them. Maybe you’d be willing to sign up to pray for them regularly, support them financially, or receive their newsletters. There are some fun pictures of their family on the website, too.
  
• If you were impacted positively by someone during your youth, or if you have children who have a special, godly mentor in their life that you are grateful to be a part of your child’s life in this season, take time to pray for them or send a note of thanks. Personally, I can’t tell you enough how thankful I am for the nursery workers who lovingly take care of Brennan each week! And I know several of you serving in youth ministry capacities. THANK YOU for investing in the lives of our kiddos in Jesus’ Name! Your work and selfless love you invest in the next generation does not go unseen!
  
• To those of you in the Austin area who would like the opportunity to meet Oscar and Candis and hear more about their ministry first-hand, we are hosting a dinner for them this Saturday, November 6th and would love for you to join us! If you are interested, please email me by Thursday morning.

Dear ones, if you’re left with anything from this post, may it be a reminder to encourage, pray and give thanks for those who pour their hearts and souls into the youth of today to see the next generation fall at His feet and proclaim, “Worthy is the Lamb!”

 

My people, hear my teaching; listen to the words of my mouth. I will open my mouth with a parable; I will utter hidden things, things from of old—things we have heard and known, things our ancestors have told us. We will not hide them from their descendants; we will tell the next generation the praiseworthy deeds of the LORD, his power, and the wonders he has done.

Psalm 78:1-4

 

Simply trusting,