Prayers

Bedtime prayers tonight--as best I could get it all down immediately after tucking them in.

Hannah first--abridged version (meaning that while the following is pretty much word for word, many of the following statements were originally repeated numerous times in an effort to defer bedtime a bit more--I have removed at least ten minutes worth of repetetion):

• "Thank you Lord," [pronounced throughout as low-ud] "for these curtains with the flowers.
• Thank you Lord for Claire who loves me!
• Thank you Lord for my beautiful Mama and for her beautiful outfit [sweat-shorts, t-shirt and frizzy ponytail].
• Thank you Lord for these marks on my wall.
• Thank you Lord for these hands and these bones that I love.
• Thank you Lord for Kujo [her big sister's Chihuahua] that when he bites me or drops his bones on my foot, that Sissy just spanks him.
• Thank you Lord for my beautiful feet and toenails and for my beautiful eyes and eyebrows.
• Thank you Lord for these pillows and this mess.
• Thank you Lord for Daddy's tools.
• Thank you Lord for everything in this room.
• Thank you Lord for these marks on the wall--again. . .whatever they are.
• Thank you Lord for everything you made. . .people. . .and friends. . . . . . . and more people. . .and friends.
• And that's it.
• Thank you Lord for a wonderful God. . .for our hearts.
• Thank you Lord for me. . .and you. Amen!"

The moment she said Amen, she looked at me suddenly and said, "Hey! God can't have ears!"

Grace next:

First breath--"Thank you for Jesus, that He loves us and He's so good to us and He died on the cross for our sins. You love us and give us hearts and make us little again and I know you love us and I know that I love you and you will come and get us some day soon and He's awesome and He's great!"

Breathe again--"Thank you Lord that you love us so much and He'll come back again for us some day and I'll be with Jesus and He'll be with me and see me in heaven with Grandpa and all the people, and help us that we sleep good and wake up happy. . . . Amen."

Huge smile, curls up, sucks her thumb and snuggles in for sleep.


Mama last:

Thank you Lord for my precious girls. For stinky blankies, dirty faces and misshapen thumbs. For what you are doing in their little hearts and the thankfulness that you are working into them. Watch over them as they sleep and keep them in your care. Protect them from all harm and keep them on your path as you prepare them for your purpose for their lives. In Jesus' name, Amen.

Amen. Amen. Amen

Rain Dance!

A rare and precious treat--thunder and lightening and rain, rain, rain!

Summer Vacation

Hannah likes to play games with her Daddy about giving him hugs and kisses. The more he begs, the more she plays hard to get. Tonight before bedtime, he asked plaintively "Where's my hugs and kisses?"

She looked at him condescendingly and said, "Daddy, I told you already that all my hugs and all my kisses went away because it's summer. They're gone now."

And I thought I was the creative mind in the family!

A Girl Can't be Too Prepared!

Grace went on a hike with her dad the other day—just the two of them. On arriving home, she excitedly told me that she was "gonna be born again." Daddy quickly interjected that they had talked about Jesus and salvation on their hike. And Grace "prayed the sinner’s prayer" with him. He explained to her what it meant to be born again—that Jesus makes you new and that you start over spiritually—like a baby again. She thought this was neat, but soon moved on to other topics and didn’t bring it up again until today.

As I was going through some old clothes to give away, she discovered an outfit that she wore a couple of years ago. Being a lover of all things pink and girly, she immediately snapped it up and tried to squeeze it over her head. Much to her dismay it was too small, and I told her that she wore it when she was a baby, but that it doesn’t fit her anymore.

She thought about this for about three seconds before she quickly rolled the outfit up into a tight ball, and shoved it firmly into my hands. "Keep this for me Mama! I want you to save it for me ‘cuz when Jesus comes back to get us and I’m a baby again, I want to wear this!"

(Would that be the ten foolish virgins or the ten wise ones? :)

Who else but my Grace would plan her wardrobe for Jesus' return?

I Rest My Case

My Hannah just might be a lawyer one day. Here's my evidence.

The other day she and Grace had a little conflict. It bore investigating, so I questioned Hannah first. She listed Grace's various sins in the matter, and I made some mental notes between the lines. She seemed to be finished with her side of the story, so I began to ask Grace for hers. But before I could get my first question out, Hannah interrupted--

"Wait! I have one more detail I need to tell you." She did, and then closed her case by saying, "Ok. That's all the details. You can talk to Grace now."

Now maybe this just flew over your head, and you're saying, "I don't get this one." Let me just say, in a world where the daily vocabulary is anchored by words like "poop," "jammies," and "Whaaaaaaaah," a three year-old framing up her closing argument with a word like "details" and permission to question the next witness kind of gets your attention.

All the evidence points to lawyer, but you decide. I rest my case.

Tribute

This will not be my most exciting post, my most entertaining, or even informative. But it may be my most worthwhile.

Grandma came over tonight. Though she lives only blocks away, weeks can pass without seeing her or (to my shame) even talking to her. She is a dear lady, and is maybe the best person I know at picturing the grace of God. Tonight, she said something that I want to remember.

When I asked how her Mother's Day went, she smiled and shook her head slightly. It seems that both of her children who live here in town had other plans for the day. Seeing my shocked look, she stitched together an explanation for me, and of course they were entirely legitimate things that occupied her kids' attention. But I could see the little bit of hurt and lonliness that leaked out around the edges of her words, and the end result was still that Grandma, nearly 90, and a widow, was left to her own devices on that special day.

I was upset--that this happened, and that I hadn't invited her myself, as she would certainly have been welcome at our gathering. Seeing my frustration, Grandma went on to say this, "I am a content mother. I know none of my children would think of hurting me. . . .So, I just stayed home and had a lazy day, and I thanked God."

Now, grace has been defined for me as essentially "unearned, undeserved favor or kindness." And that is exactly what she showed her children that day. It isn't that they are mean or abusive to her, or even neglectful. But Mother's Day is Mother's Day. A mom expects or at least hopes for the nearness of her children on a day like that--the ones who are nearby anyway. I expect any lonely older widow might see that as an opportunity to be bitter, or to complain, or at least to get a little depressed. But Grandma made the most of it for herself, and thanked God. She thanked God and prayed for her children and grandchildren--off leading their own lives--even on a day meant to honor the one who gave them life in the first place.

I hope to be so gracious--to give people the benefit of the doubt like that--to thank them when I could "justifiably" be resentful. To assume--to choose to believe that no hurt is intentional. To pray for them even when I feel slighted or neglected. To thank God for all they are--for His work in their life, especially when I think maybe I deserve a little thanks too.

After all, that is what a Mom does. It is what she should do. It is what Grandma does, and it is why I honor her today.

Happy Mother's Day, Grandma! And thank you for your living example--the one you are not even aware of. I love you!

Snapshot of My Heart

It’s a night of a million thoughts—but this picture sticks in my mind. I guess it captures my life right now. Is it because things are so blissful or perfect? No. But the other day as we played with the camera’s timer feature and (all three of us) repeatedly rushed headlong onto the couch in front of the camera, we got a lot of funny pictures. Some were blurry with action, or had very fake smiles (witness Gracie above). Others caught us with our eyes closed. Still others caught us unprepared or distracted by a stubbed toe or the kitchen timer. And in the end, we got a number of really good pictures too.

And I was just thinking that if you took random snapshots of my life and attitude, you would find much the same thing. In the course of capturing the really sweet moments—you would end up with lots of others too. Pictures blurry with too much running around, funny—even embarrassing faces, eyes closed to the blessings around me. Some would show me completely unprepared for what I’m facing, and probably many would catch me distracted from my purpose by discomfort or a myriad of tyrannical details. But then there are those others. And tonight is one of them.

Outwardly--my kitchen is messy. My family is sick. My creative inclinations fly about like Noah’s dove—with no place to set their feet. My writing ambitions far exceed my time or energy levels. Let’s not even talk about the toilets. My newly pregnant stepdaughter and friend live entirely too far away from us. I am completely unprepared for the school week ahead. Gracie talked me dizzy all day and I spent the whole morning oblivious to the most ridiculous hair day I’ve had in a very long time.

But that is only what shows on the outside. You see, I had time to pray tonight. Jack was content on the couch downstairs, the girls were snuggled together in their bed singing Deep and Wide over and over and over and. . . . I locked myself in my bathroom with my Bible, closed the toilet lid, pushed aside the dirty clothes, and sat cross-legged on the linoleum to talk to my God.

After a day of calling back and forth to one another as we “went about business,” I finally got to sit down and talk with Him face to face. We talked about my unruly dreams and my laziness as a teacher. I talked to Him about the concerns on my heart, and He talked to me about His. I thanked Him for many things—things just between us. It was a pleasure to know that He doesn’t mind my silly hair, or messy kitchen. And I remembered again why I love Him—because He first loved me! And that is so much more than enough!

So today, this picture is me. Today, you caught me smiling.