Her Legacy

As my grandma is very weak and her homegoing seems to be approaching (as much as it even pains me to type that sentence), the Lord has been putting verses in front of me that give me the peace and comfort for which I have been pleading.

"O God, Thou hast taught me from my youth;
And I still declare Thy wondrous deeds.
And even when I am old and gray, O God do not forsake me,
Until I declare Thy strength to this generation,
Thy power to all who are to come.
For Thy righteousness, O God, reaches to the heavens,
Thou who has done great things;
O God, who is like Thee?
Thou who hast shown me many troubles and distresses,
Wilt revive me again,
And wilt bring me up again from the depths of the earth.
Mayest Thou increase my greatness,
And turn to comfort me."


I am so proud and encouraged and motivated by the life she has lived. She has faithfully declared His deeds, proclaimed His strength, lived through His power, and trusted in his revival during the dark struggle of Parkinson's disease. What a legacy and a foundation she has given to me--a true gift.

As we were having breakfast this morning, the kids were all in one place at the same time and being still so I decided it was a good time for a devotion. This is something I have never done regularly with them, but I want to start. Perhaps blogging about our family devotion times will help me stay accountable. This was my view (well, my partial view--isn't he cute?):

We have really had a hard time lately with obedience (well, and getting along with one another...and sharing...and anger...and complaining...and, well just ALL the things). Most of this falls on me because I haven't been as consistent as I need to be with discipline. Also, discipline isn't fun. It hurts my heart and makes my stomach upset. So I tend to just let things go. That would be precisely what has gotten us into this mess. So, after praying and talking, Jonathan and I have renewed our resolve with our parenting. Hence our devotion material this morning...

"Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice.
And be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you.
Therefore, be imitators of God, as beloved children; and walk in love, just as Christ also loved you, and gave Himself up for us [...]"
Ephesians 4: 31-32; 5:1-2

I want to be really careful to not be legalistic in our parenting and in the teaching/leading of our children. Legalism has been a huge stumbling block to me and so many that I know. So, why do we need to obey God? Why do we need to be careful to obey His words? This is what we read:

"Jesus answered and said to him, 'If anyone loves Me, he will keep My word; and My Father will love him; and We will come to him, and make Our abode with him.

He who does not love Me does not keep My words; and the word which you hear is not Mine, but the Father's who sent Me.'"

John 14:23-24

These verses go on to talk about "abiding" in further detail. The word "abide" is quite possible my most favorite word in the English language. It has such depth and profound meaning. It is my deepest desire that myself, my husband, and our children would truly understand what it means to abide in the Father, and that we would be able to experience the joy of the Father abiding in us.


I can't do this parenting thing alone. I've tried for about 5 and 1/2 years now, and what I described above as our current struggles--that's only the tip of the iceberg. There comes a time in all of our lives that we realize we have been struggling in vain in our own decrepit strength--and we realize we aren't practicing what we have claimed to believe. And we repent. And we pray. And we put one foot in front of the other trusting and knowing that He will never fail us. Our complete surrender in our helpless state pleases Him. "I can do all things through [and only through] Christ who strengthens me." Phil. 4:13

And as far as our parenting strategy...

"He gently leads those that have young."

Isaiah 40:11

Lead us, Lord.

Thankful,

Amanda

Ruminations

Life.
What is it?
These mobile hunks of clay meandering around--searching.
Searching for jobs...food...shelter...luxury...pleasure...meaning.
But what is it really?
Why does it matter?
How can it be that one moment, our clay bodies are mobile and the next, they are still and lifeless.
What do we do with that? Those of us that are left here?
We continue to dream about the body that used to walk and talk and live among us.
We literally see that body in our dreams.
But isn't it just a body?
There must be more than just a body.
We hear about the soul.
What is the soul really?
What is a person's spirit?

Personality...it's so unique.

Perhaps that's what we mourn the most. That we will never know another person who would respond to us the way that one person did...who would understand our inside jokes...who would have the same mannerisms...who would hold the same routines.

So what's left?
What is left with us after death?

Memories.

But don't memories fade?
Can't our mind conjure up falsehoods overtime?
How to keep memories pure?
Why can't I make a movie of what I see in my mind right this very instant so that I can ensure that it will never get diluted by the junk of this life that occupies more and more of my mindspace as each day passes?

Life...
It comes and it goes.
It ebbs and it flows.

Even with the belief of heaven...death isn't any easier to deal with. But I hear it should be.
But it's not.
Why is it not?
Does that negate my christian-ness?

I can only wrap my mind around what happens here on earth.
Heaven is just too much.
The after life is just too much.
What happens here after we lose a loved one?
What is it exactly that we are sad about?

Part of me clings to the body...the peaceful face I've known all my life, the familiar shadow and silhouette, the soothing sound of a voice. Those things can never be replicated.

That's all I know.

It's hard.

Sometimes when we've dreaded something happening for so long we create a monster in our minds that's much bigger than perhaps it should be.

I do that with death.

Hasn't life gone on since my dad left me here half-orphaned?

Haven't I continued to smile and laugh and play?

Haven't I still found joy in things both large and small?

The sun still rises. The sun still sets. With no regard to the presence or absence of my father.

A harsh reality.

A humbling truth.

This world isn't about me. Or my dad. Or any other beloved family member of mine--even if they are the very ones that hung the moon in my childhood sky.

Life is relentless. Time never gives us a break.

What are we going to do with it?

My soul can only whisper one word: abide.

DIY Adventure

A couple years ago, we bought a dining table and chairs from Amazon (rather cheaply, might I add). We lost a chair a year in. And two years in (now), the other three are wobbling slowly to their deaths.

I've had it in my mind to find solid wood chairs for a long time but hadn't acted on it--until now.

I had an amazing paycheck from my "job"--post to come about that soon. So I felt it an appropriate time to start my chair search.

Did I go to Ashley Furniture Megastore you ask? Heck no. Never again.

Try the Black Swan Flea Market in New Bern. It will change your life.

In the attic of this century-old home cram packed with the most beautiful furniture and antiques I've ever seen sat 4 old solid wood windsor chairs. For $15 a piece. I'll TAKE 'em!

As we were leaving, the owner asked us if we needed a table to go with our new chairs. Well, she ended up selling us a dining table--solid wood Ethan Allen--for $40. YES.

I have never worked with wood...never refinished anything...never really even sanded anything. So it really was anybody's guess how this would turn out.

Can't hurt to try though, right?

At Lowe's I got some sanding blocks, a foam brush, a quart of black flat paint, and a bucket of matte polyurethane.

I sanded until I got the effect I wanted.

I painted the legs black (again).

When they dried, I distressed them.

Then I poly'd the legs and the table--3 coats each.

Time to bring it inside and reassemble! Jonathan had some good help.

And here it is!

The legs turned out beautifully unique.

I'm in love.

I think I've turned into a DIY junkie.



Chairs are next! (Hint: I'm thinking Gumdrop Red and Aqua Blue)

I'll Have a Large Order of Compassion, Hold the Judgement Please

Just a note to my fellow moms out there:

If you ever see a sister out and about with her children and you notice that she might be struggling a bit or maybe even a tad stressed out from, say, trying to keep up with her 5 year old that talks incessantly and therefore cannot hear instructions and therefore cannot obey said instructions, AND trying to focus on the task at hand while the 2 year old repeats his request a THOUSAND times, AND running after the 1 year old who loves the freedom that his ability to walk gives him and takes off any chance his toes hit the ground...I beg you to consider compassion instead of judgement.

Compassion. Judgement. 

Which would your rather receive?

Let me back up a tad. 

This morning was...eventful. It started out calmly enough. One by one, the children woke up. I started the day with Mason snuggles and a soft rendition of "Happy Birthday" to which he watched my mouth form every word--completely entranced. 

Next Andy woke up. For a boy who typically awakes grumpy and needs at least an hour to snap out of it, today was pretty good for him. It only took a few minutes of whining before he was ready for his breakfast and playtime. 

I read a chapter of my book (and it was an awesome chapter) while the boys played and had snacks. Emily woke and went straight for her new birthday toys. She and I tattooed some barbie hair before it was time to get ready for her last day at VBS at a church we have visited twice. 

I gathered everyones socks, shorts, shirts, undies, shoes, and hair-fixing necessities. Then I threw on a pair of jeans and my hair up into some sort of a bun to make myself appear to be a semi-civilized adult. FYI, I have decided that when I put on a clean t-shirt before bed, it is entirely acceptable to wear the same t-shirt for at least half of the next day. 

Jonathan took the van this morning and put the 3 carseats in the back of the Volvo. I was supposed to take the Volvo to get the oil changed. Well, the Volvo doesn't have a fancy schmancy DVD player like the van does. Because of this, the very second I strapped Mason into the car, he started screaming. And he didn't stop until we got home 30 minutes later. 

After squeezing Emily into the middle and spending at least 10 minutes trying to reach the bottom part of the seat belt buckle and sweating profusely by the end of it, I strapped Andy in and we were ready to go. 

But wait, my wallet is in the van. 

All of this suffering and screaming and sweating in this darn tiny car for nothing. 

But hey, whatever. I can get past that.

"Oh...I left Emily's one pair of tennis shoes in the van yesterday. There might be a pair in the garage. Let me go check."

After digging through partially unpacked boxes, more sweating, and a few spiders later, I found some shoes. I grabbed the shoes and realized I was starving and hadn't eaten anything substantial since yesterday at lunch so I ran inside and found a couple dollar bills. That would suffice for a sausage biscuit from McDonald's. Hey...food is food.

I jumped in the car, and we're off.

We get to the church, I go to put Emily's shoes on but wait...they aren't in the car. They are nowhere to be found. Going back home is not an option since we are already late and the bounce houses are inflated in plain view in the parking lot. Telling the kids we are going home before even getting out of the car would have most definitely incited rage and panic. My only option is to squeeze her sweet chubby feet into Anderson's 2-sizes-too-small shoes. Oh, and I should mention that Mason never made it into his shorts before we left the house--just a diaper and a t-shirt because, well, I don't even know why. 

So here we go. We are late of course and the first group gathering of VBS has already started. I have no idea where Emily's class is. Neither does she. 

We stand and we wait. Anderson is talking--more like repeating (because that's what he does). Mason is wiggling and wriggling his way out my arms because SPACE--so much SPACE to run around. Emily is distressed because every other day this week, her class was waiting outside. Why is this day different??

Emily thinks she spots someone she knows and of course...on the front row. So, Emily in her boy shoes walking like a kangaroo in high heels because they are tiny and Anderson in his bare feet and Mason in his diaper walk to the very front of the gymnasium in front of everyone to find her class. 

I can deal with all that. Whatever. Here's where I have the issue.

As we were walking out, a group of very put-together moms who were volunteering as workers for the VBS were standing by the exit. I cannot even begin to describe to you the up and down motion of their eyes. It was so painfully obvious. First they started with Anderson's feet. Then it went to Mason's diaper. Then it went to my over sized t-shirt and messy hair and non-made-up face. I mean...I know we look a bit a mess but do you really have to stare like that? Have you ever seen someone check someone else out from head to toe and from toe to head all over again in disbelief?

 Exactly.

This is church. You are volunteering. You are a member here. You've never seen me or my children before. Logically, we must be visitors. 

You never know what a person has been through. You never know someone else's story unless you take time to ask. You never know how someone's morning has been. You never know what someone is struggling with. You never know someone's stress level. 

Be the hands of Jesus. Have the eyes of Jesus. 

Not the eyes of judgement. 

Let's build one another up--lend a helping hand to a mom in need.

Let's be compassionate. 

Love. Love above all. 

P.S.- I never found the shoes. 

Yeah, that's whole milk.

Don't judge me.

Jesus Called Me This Morning

Trust me in the depths of your being.

It is there that I live in constant communion with you. When you feel flustered and frazzled on the outside (um...quite often), do not get upset with yourself. You are only human (Amanda), and the swirl of events going on all around you will sometimes (or all the time) feel overwhelming. Rather than scolding yourself for your humanness, remind yourself that I am both with you and within you. (Thank heavens).

I am with you at all times, encouraging and supportive rather than condemning. I know that deep within you, where I live, My peace is your continual experience (make it more so, Lord).

*Slow down your pace of living for a time. Quiet your mind in My presence.*

Then you will be able to hear Me bestowing the resurrection blessing: Peace be with you.

-Sarah Young, Jesus Calling (parentheses mine)


That whole slow down your pace of living line...boy, does that resonate. I find myself more irritated with Emily than ever lately because she is showing her individuality more and more. I think that there is a fine line (I'm still looking for it) between demanding her immediate obedience and understanding that there are lots of things going through that little mind of hers; she is discovering this big world and it can be and is confusing for her. She is very particular and methodical about how things are done. I need to understand that she doesn't think just like I do and she doesn't understand why it might not matter in the long run if she does or does not put that pretend skillet full of stickers (or eggs) in the kitchen cabinet very gently (and slooowly) on top of the stack of pots only to cause the entire stack to clank to the marble floor RIGHT before we have to leave the house to make it to an appointment barely on time. All the while Anderson has escaped to the bathroom to splash around in the toilet water, might I add.

There are things that are incredibly important to a three-year-old that adults will never understand because we've lost our sense of imagination and have allowed the "real" world to become superior to child-like wonder, play, and imagination. Would she or I benefit from me being obviously irritated and rushing over to throw the pots in the cupboard, grab her hand, and drag her out the door? When I do things like that, her spirit is crushed. She asks me, "Mommy, are you happy?" when I am obviously not.
 She knows.
 She's smart.

 I don't want to be a spirit crushing, madly demanding, irritable mother.

 Or would she and I benefit most from me remaining calm, slowing down our pace of life, helping her put the "eggs back on the stove", and asking if she will share her breakfast with me when we get home from our errand? That sounds much better.

 I want to be a mother that fosters her healthy independence, her incredible imaginary skills, and understands that she is a quirky three year old.

She needs that from me.
 I expect it of myself.
But, I need the grace from God to slow down.
I need Him to increase my eagerness to listen before I speak and seek to understand before I demand understanding. Even from a three-year-old.

Thank you, Jesus, for calling this morning.

Bedtime with Eloise

Emily and I are reading "Eloise" at bedtime. I've never read this book, but friends of ours gave it to us and said it was a "must" for childhood.  One of the pages tonight sounded JUST like Emily. Here's a snippet (I'll type it exactly as written--punctuation and all):

"I have two dolls which is enough
Their names are Sabine and Saylor
Sabine is a rag doll and she has absolutely no face at all
partially because she came from Jamaica by Air Express
Otherwise she has shoe-button eyes and two right legs
She is rawther unusual


Saylor is a very large doll and has a hard head and no arms
She was in the most terriblest accident and she bleeded so hard
she almost choked in the night and this ambulance came and took
her to this hospital and it was an emergency and they had to give
her all this terribly dark medicine and a lot of Band-aids and when
she came back home she was weak weak weak and had to take cod-liver
oil

I gave her a strawberry leaf from under my grapefruit for not
whimpering and Weenie licked her face
They have to have a teaspoon of water every hour or so, so you can
see they are an extremely lot of work"

I typed all that to give you a peek into what it's like around our house these days.

A 3 year old that constantly chatters. Constantly.

And a 1 year old who is into everything. Everything.

But they are so wonderful. Being a parent is so rewarding.