Poop

        

Parenting is difficult for a number of reasons, one of which is the number of gray areas not covered in "the books".  This thing, in this particular circumstance, from this child, on this day .... 

There really is not a formula.

One of the things that Ellie has trouble with is telling us that she has poop in her diaper.  She can just have been making that cute little 'I am pooping' face, staring right at you and then promptly deny that it produced anything.
You can say, "Ellie, do you have a poopoo?  Do you need a new diaper?"
She will look at you and say "no".
"Really, Ellie," I respond, "Are you sure?  Because if you did and you told mommy that you didn't that would not be honest.  You wouldn't want to lie to mommy."
"No poo poo, just pee" she says with great predictability.
"Ellie.  Here's the thing, somebody in the room pooped and as you are the only one with a diaper on I am really hoping it was you."

 

We go change the diaper and I debate on various days the extent to which I want to try to teach this lesson at this age.

Recently a family we knew came up in conversation.  Their schedules are full, they have more children than we do, their house is tidy, their kids are clean .... we were admiring that.  Someone remarked "They run a pretty tight ship over there."    Maggie and I had toddlers crawling over us dressed in their self-chosen cacophony while we sat on a rug that had not been vacuumed since I do not know when, toys strung about, a basket of unfolded laundry was probably on the couch.  I looked around and asked, "What kind of ship are we running here?"
"The Ship of Grace!  That's it",  we laughed.

And I do hope we are!  I hope when both of you read my blog or when my conversations are overheard that the thing most felt is grace.  Because I believe Jesus covered the sins of the murderer and the sins of the gossiper alike.  I believe that the cross satisfies for adultery, the struggle of homosexuality, the addictions of pornography or alcohol or whatever else.  I believe, if asked, Jesus is happy to cart every one of those (and the thousands in myself that I am blind to) away from the judgement seat of God. 
But we have to own them first.

We have to admit that we didn't make it to the potty.

Jealousy? "No, not me." 
Control? "I don't think so." 
Discontent? "No, Lord, that's not my diaper - must be someone else's that you smell."

Moving On

Yesterday morning the cats moved out. 
As most of our animal departures occur via death, this one was, relatively speaking, good.  I had not held out much hope of finding them a new home.  I mean cats seem pretty ubiquitous and people have these conflicted relationships with the ones they own.  So when the first person Maggie mentioned it to, actually wanted them? 
Well, it was a God thing.
The family who took them seemed genuinely thrilled to have them.  Who would have thought?
So ... that's good, really good. 

Except for this one thing. 

It would not be happening if Maggie was not also moving out. 

Everyone who knows me knows I will find it hard.  Some people laugh when they find out that her moving out is not even leaving the town we are in.  Some people say they understand.  Others remind me that it is the appropriate next step.  They tell me that she will be home often.  They tell me how miles don't change your relationship.  They scold me into thinking of how the alternative - her never leaving - could be a really sad thing.

I know all of that!

It is good!

Her leaving, her ability to leave, and to be excited about it, is indicative of a great deal of healing in our family.  For that I am so, so thankful. 
These past four years with all of their drama, also contained great gifts one of which was this amazingly precious relationship with her.  When she showed up, no matter what the state of things, she made it better.    When people would say "dumb" things to us about our situation, we would smile at one another knowing they meant well.  With one look across a room we could communicate a whole paragraph of response.  She is the only one who breathed the same air that I did and thus the only one who fully understood the depth, the scope, the far flung consequences of certain things.  There were trials in her life going on too, ones in which a mother is a very good thing to have. 
So it is nice for her not to need me so much anymore.

Well, sort of.

I AM!

A bruised reed he will not break, and a faintly burning wick he will not quench: 

Isaiah 42:3 

 

This third point that I wanted to make has been more difficult. I mean how do you "describe" God, even the tiniest slice of who He is? I nearly gave up on the idea, letting it fall by the wayside like the vast majority of my blog ideas.

But, it is such an indescribably precious lesson to me. I don't want to forget it. I need to stop here and erect twelve stones.

 

I can not remember exactly which beach trip we were on, but it was not long ago.  I had gone for a walk by myself (which might be why this is memorable). 

I was lamenting as I walked, complaining mostly but lamenting sounds more biblical.  Either way it was not grateful conversation.  I turned into our cul-de-sac and over the sound was a huge flash of lightning and a loud boom.  At that moment it occured to me.  God could strike me down right now.  In fact, for all of my moaning, He should.  If I had been him, I would definately have considered it.   

  

He didn't.

When you are tired, tiny, discouraged - God's response is not frustration or disappointment, it is tenderness.

 



In 1st Kings the prophet Elijah  has been fed by ravens (17:6-7), he resided with the widow of Zarephth where indeed the oil did not run out (17:16). He prayed for the healing of her son who was dead and his life was restored (17:21-22).  He had been party to God's proving himself before the prophets of baal by igniting fire on the wet altar that he had built (18:38-39).  God had been ridiculously, obviously present in Elijah's life for some time.

 

Even so, after all of those events, when he hears that Jezebel, the wife of King Ahab, plans to kill him he is afraid and runs away.  He tells the Lord, essentially, "I have had it. I am done. I am tired."  Now, instead of getting frustrated with Elijah, he gives him a really long nap.  He has an angel awaken him and feed him - "and he looked, and behold, there was at his head a cake baked on hot stones and a jar of water." 

It is such a compassionate gesture. 

This response of God to his pitiful, fearful, grumpy little prophet is like that of a mother (on a good day) putting her toddler down for a nap.  HE does not reach down and slap him and shout "Elijah, you who have borne witness to my mighty power, actually think that Jezebel is going to take your life one moment before my ordained time for you?!"

If I were God, that's what I would have said, only with uglier words I am sure.

 

And, if I were God that day that I was on the beach I think I might have been tempted to have that lightning strike at least close enough for me to feel the electricity. 

HE could have and probably should have.

 

The Lord has blessed us and kept us these years, He has surrounded us with people to help us at every corner. And, when I complain, He puts me to bed like a tired toddler (or sends me to the beach) and feeds me, and waits for me to see again.

This tenderness? This is our God.

He who is the great I AM.

 

i am

For I know that nothing good dwells in me, that is, in my flesh.  For I have the desire to do what is right, but not the ability to carry it out.

Romans 7:16

 

 

 

February 8th marked one year since Serge's first seizure.  February  15th was Julia's third birthday. February 27th, one year since Ellie found Serge and James in China and March 8th when I first met her. A lot of significant events to remember!  All of those anniversaries have caused me to reflect more than usual, as though I needed a reason. 

There is nothing about my life the past year, or the several before it for that matter, that has been tragic.  It has, however, been a trying season.  The problem in finding words to express the trials is that the difficulty of it all only makes sense if you see the totality, the confluence of events, my life intersecting with the lives of those I love.  I can't describe that as a narrative.  I need a Venn diagram to capture it, the action in this messy barn of mine.

Instead of God giving me words to recount a bunch of events and hope that I don't come across too whiny, or melodramatic - which I would - I feel like that what He is saying is more along the lines of; Stewart, the things worth sharing, the things worth remembering and recording are the lessons learned. The circumstances are incidental. Circumstances are just tools in My workshop anyway.

 

I have found three themes so far.  They build on each other.  The first was the previous post on keeping faith when things did not turn out the way you expected them to.  The second is on having an accurate view of myself which is what today's thoughts are on.  The third one is on having a true view of God which I will address later.

At one time I would have been able to describe myself in a number of ways; Christian, wife of Serge, mother of two, friend to many, only child of precious parents, homeschooler, chicken farmer, goat raiser, bread baker, ambitious cook, occasional gardener, avid reader and writer ...  my life felt full and good.  I liked it.

 

 

 

 

 

  

  

I no longer have that same list. There have been several additions and quite a few subtractions.  Most of the adjectives that were removed were not really my choice. Losses like that stink. They go unnoticed by friends and family. There is no funeral for the changing of the seasons in one's life, but there is grief! It hasn't been pretty, not one little bit of it. I did not let anything go gracefully, and in some areas I am still clinging. But it has brought me closer to God, who subsequently has asked me to consider who I am without all of those descriptive terms.

 

 

When the wheat grinder collects dust and the chicken pen sits rotting in the field from lack of use, who am I?
When there is no longer time or emotional strength to home school my children, who am I then?
How does that "sweet, submissive wife" thing in all of those Christian marriage books work when the Lord pulls the rug out from under my husband in multiple areas and he doesn't know how or can't lead right then - who am I?
When you have spent the past 10 years "preaching" to the young women who bounced in and out of your life that 'children are a blessing from the Lord' and you should have as many as He will give you ... who am I when He gives me one at 45 and the pregnancy isn't as easy as the other two and people do not embrace it with me and not everyone supports us in it and she doesn't even sleep through the night for 16 months(really!) ... just who am I then?
When you answer what you think (but sometimes wonder) was God's call to adopt, and instead of uniting your family it seems to rip it at every seam, who am I then?

When the idols fall, when it is just you and the Lord left to walk it all out and you realize that your contribution is about 0% ... that's when you find out who you really are.

It is then that you figure out:

Rhetoric is easier than reality.

I am "...wretched, pitiable, poor, and blind ...  (Rev 3:17)

That is who i am.

A Lamb for the Barn

Sometime I am going to write about why I quit writing, but I am still looking for the right combination of words.

The thing I have been wrestling with the past couple of weeks is probably, more or less, a broad summary anyway.

Mathew 11:2-6
Now when John heard in prison about the deeds of Christ, he sent word by his disciples and said to Him, "Are you the one who is to come, or shall we look for another?"  And Jesus answered them,"Go and tell John what you hear and see:The blind receive their sight and the lame walk, lepers are cleansed and the deaf hear, and the dead are raised up, and the poor have good news preached to them. And blessed is the one who is not offended by me."  (ESV)

I remember someone saying in passing, maybe a sermon, that what was meant by offended was that people's expectation of Jesus (Messiah) coming was likely so different than how He did show up that they were suprised by, confused by, or disappointed in it.
I think this is where I have been for awhile - confused by and a little disappointed in the way some things have unfolded.  (I am not sure you can get to middle-age with half a thought and not feel that way, honestly).  The "why?" place. 

So what would "not being offended" look like?  That has been my question to myself. 
I think it would look like trusting in His goodness with faith that His working it out is going to be "more than I can ask or imagine" (Ephes. 3:20).  It would look like, even in those places where no healing has yet appeared to have begun, the places I am imprisoned myself, knowing that He will in His perfect time and way redeem those too.
This is hard.  There are places that are dry, places that feel like no rain has touched in years, places where I have prayed for it, but no healing has come.

I think THIS might be, however, the truest test of faith: 
Can you believe?  Believe I am good.  Believe I am for you.  Believe I am in control while you are confused and disappointed, while things do not look good?
Can you experience the "not yet" of this life, the delay, the clouds and rain, without becoming bittter?
Can you be John the Baptist in prison?
Can you be Paul with the unhealed thorn in the flesh? (2 Cor 12:1-12)

Because if you can,
you can be called the "greatest born to a woman" (Matt 11:11)
and you can have a ministry and words that reach people for nearly 2000 years (Paul's epistles)

If you trust ME, stone walls fall (Joshua 6:20)
If you trust and obey ME, your family survives although the flood waters rise all around you (Gen 6:13-22)
If you trust ME, you will be able to participate in conceiving things as far reaching in number of generations as stars in the Heavens (Gen 17:19)
If you trust ME, there will be a lamb in the thicket - a lamb you did not have to raise, or purchase, or even carry up the hill to the altar.  (Gen 22:13)

But to do so is no easy task. 
Life brings plenty of reasons to think that He didn't show up.  Sometimes those reasons come one after another, as relentless as the waves in the ocean.

But I think my heart is beginning to hear the voice of God.
I think He is saying:
Look.
Look. 
Look for the Lamb.

John 1:29
" ... Behold the the Lamb of God who takes away the sin of the world!"

Rev 5:12
"Worthy is the Lamb ..."

Bethlehem

I have a thing for manger scenes.  If I wasn't already so overburdened with stuff, I'd probably own far too many.  As it is I have two, not counting the "kid" ones that Maggie and James had when they were little.
They use to love to unwrap the people and place them in their various locations, arguing, in true Christmas spirit where everyone should go.  Now they don't much care and I miss James's antics of the last few years when he would put pieces in crazy places and see how long it took Maggie to notice.

I don't know what it is particularly about them that endears me - other than the feeling that I might have more in common with the people there and their messy state than the people I go to church with.
I was thinking how far flung we are, our culture, from that scene now.  How little we can possibly relate on a practical level to that event.  Spiritually though there is still opportunity to ask what our own lives look like in relation.  Are they like the Inn, too full, of gifts and activities and people to pay much attention to Jesus?  And who am I most like in the scene?  Mary, pregnant with hope amidst the confusion of a sometimes (most times?) unpredictable God?  Or am I the Wise Men, traveling years to find Him, the one pearl of great price (Matt 13:46)?

This year I will pull out our nativity scenes, not with Maggie and James who are too busy, but with Julia and Ellie.  Making new memories.  That change alone makes me feel that the last few years have made me most like the shepherds - utterly surprised by the turn of events!
I want my life to be the un-immaculate barn that the blog name represents - the stable - the place not too full for Jesus.  A place that while messy (and it is one messy life I'm living right now) is also able to welcome this King of Glory.
This Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, and Prince of Peace (Isaiah 9:6)

Christmas a la Julia

The last week of November a common refrain from Julia was, "I don't want it be Thanksgiving, I want it be Christmas!"
One day, having heard this about a dozen times, James says, "Julia, do you even know what Christmas is?"
"Yes," she states with complete confidence, "it's where you go outside and you get a tree and you bring it in the house and then you take it back out again."