Peace through Suffering

I'm sitting at my sister-in-law's computer now, listening to the sound of birds,

Found Photo

Child of Mine

I sputter... I speak... My head pounds a dull number of frustrated rhythm and I feel a scream start to erupt in my soul.

I've just spent emotional and physical energy getting an over-cranky baby to sleep and now my toddler is fighting the nap fairies too. I can't take one more "I need..."--which really just translates into "I want something... anything... to keep you in this room with me one... more... minute." I want to rest my head, I want to do something for me, I want to read... I... I... I...

But that's not what being a parent is about.

That's not what our Parent is about.

Even though everything should point to Him and His glory--He is the one who made THE sacrifice.

He is the one who reached out first...

He is the one who graced us with love...
He is the one who ushered us into peace...

He is the one who filled our hearts...

Such love convicts me.

Reminds me.

Shows me.

Inspires me.

To love like a parent should.

Animal, Vegetable, or Mineral: random fun facts

A cheetah can run 75 mph and can accelerate to this speed in about 3 seconds, making it one of the most effective predators.

Bamboo is the fastest growing plant on earth (3 feet per day at times); amazingly, pandas and lemurs consume enough bamboo to kill several men a day. The only way we can eat bamboo is to cook off the toxic levels of cyanide.

Diamonds were believed to ward off evil and the Romans wore them around their necks.

Lessons from the Bathroom

For those parents out there, you know that sanctification rarely penetrates as deep until you start rearing children. I'm certainly no exception. I used to think I was a pretty good person... until I got married... and then had kids. And now, well, I see the sinful mess that I truly am. I can be pretty prideful, selfish, and impatient.

Despite my daughter's two and half years, she is extremely curious, sneaky, contemplative, and just a little too smart for her own good. She's started lying to get around situations, something we are trying to amend. But that's another issue.

A couple days ago, she was brushing her teeth (one of her favorite pastimes) and was in the bathroom unsupervised (I know. I know.). In the course of her exploration, she popped open the shampoo bottle and proceeded to dump out half of its contents. When I exclaimed that she was not making a good choice and what-in-world-was-she-thinking (an ignorant question for a 2-year-old, by the way), she replied with, "I'm cleaning the sink." She knows her momma well and how much I love to clean. But still, she got in trouble and was told she would have to be supervised with any other bathroom visits.

She got over it, but I didn't it. Despite the fact that it was only a couple bucks, I couldn't let it go. After all, not even one week prior, she'd done the same thing, emptying 3/4 a bottle of shampoo into her bath. Wastefulness drives me insane (instilled in me by my frugal mom) ,and we certainly can't afford to buy a bottle of shampoo every week. Am I not punishing her hard enough? Am I being to merciful to her? After all, she should know better? She's done it before.

And then this voice nudged my thinking the other way, "What about you?" "Do you ever repeat sins--things you should not do because you too know better?" "What about Me?" "Am I too merciful to you?" "I continue to forgive you, even when you are flippant about it?"

I wasn't letting this issue go, and neither was the Holy Spirit. Foolishly, I argued with Him a little further, justifying my indignation. I won't embarrass you (ahem,... me) with the dialog, but needless to say, God did open my eyes to the situation.

Do I still get angry? Sure. Are there still consequences? Absolutely. But I'm learning. Grace has always been a difficult concept for to receive and extend. But more peace comes when I acknowledge what's been extended to me.

In my shoes

My daughter is all things girl, which I love. She adores jewelry, dresses, taking care of her babies, and shopping (even more than I do--which I guess isn't hard to believe, for those of you who know me).

In addition, putting on my shoes is a favorite pastime, even if they aren't the slightest bit feminine... they're mom's. That's all that matters. Admittedly, I'm not as bad as my husband, but I do tend to leave shoes by the door. My goobie girl found them and proceeded to clomp around the house.

As I watched her, I paused what I was doing and listened to my heart's murmurings. She's going to be fitting into those shoes before you can blink an eye.

And...

Are you ready for her to wear your shoes... to imitate your movements, your words, your attitude?

My heart responded to the last questioning and it wasn't pretty. God convicted me, showing me how I'd been acting lately.

As confession goes, yesterday was especially ugly. I fumed, unraveled, and raged. Aaron was around to see most of it, and the embarrassment was acute. I felt like a fool. Later, I apologized to my daughter for the lunatic mother who ran volatile at times. True to her nature, she responded with compassion, hugging me and telling me she forgave me. Honestly... few things humble you more than having your two-year-old say, "Forgive you, Mommy."

So, here I fall, failing more than I should, remembering that I'm weak in the same areas my daughter is (sorry sweetie), and sometimes I have to remind myself that I too need a time-out for my choices. Hopefully, my children will remember the love (not the scorn), the laughter (not the yelling), the instruction (not the impatience). And someday, when they are walking in my shoes, I'll be able to rest more fully, knowing that they are following the Lord and not just me.