It always irked me to a certain degree when I saw over-indulgent parents.  I’m not sure if it was because I was so “not-indulged” as a kid.  But, you know, when you see the little girl in a fluffy, princess dress, wearing a birthday tiara, nearly lifted off of the floor with birthday balloons, and her parents are offering to buy her up to half of Walmart? – I just couldn’t do it.

I tend to swing to the other extreme.  I’m pretty cheap when it comes to spending on my boys.  Second or third-hand clothes are more than welcome here.  I notice that I almost pride myself in hardly spending anything on them.  After all, they’re just kids!  They are not going to run my house, let alone determine any important life decisions.

But this morning, I read about another set of parents who were willing to do anything for their child. 

Talking about the son of Zacharias and Elizabeth:

“John was the son of their old age, he was a child of miracle, and the parents might have reasoned that he had a special work to do for the Lord and the Lord would take care of him.  But the parents did not thus reason; they moved to a retired place in the country, where their son would not be exposed to the temptations of city life, or induced to depart from the counsel and instruction which they as parents would give him…. They acted their part in developing a character in the child that would in every way meet the purpose for which God had designed his life…. They sacredly fulfilled their obligation…. ”  CG 23.

Here is an example of parents “living” for their son.  Allowing their child to dictate major life decisions.  Doing anything to protect their child.  Apparently waiting on their child, hand and foot.  Have a backbone please!  Exactly the kind of thing that would bother me, right? 

What struck me in a profound way, is that I realized the difference between sacrificing all for personal motives and sacrificing all for Christ’s will to be done in the lives of our children.  There is no hint of indulgence in this scenario.  Rather, complete dedication, earnestness, and love towards a Cause greater than themselves.  They gave all their human effort in raising their son to fulfill God’s special plan for his life.  Nothing was taken for granted.  And ultimately, this IS the perfect expression of love for their son.  This is what I want.     

So, I’ve decided to spend more.  But I want to make it count.  I want to be willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that we are on that narrow path – whether it be to move, stay, change jobs, cancel appointments, risk embarrassment and ridicule, buy that $500 Christian book set, and yes, even change who I am.  It’s a radical thought.  It sounds irresponsible.  But I’m glad that Jesus is on my side every step of the way.  This is His ingenious way of saving us and our children.  And at the end when the Lord comes in the clouds of glory and we are standing on that day with our children, I know I will be among them that humbly exclaim that Heaven is cheap enough.     

I think in many mothers’ experience, there comes a point, post-partum, where we say enough is enough. Our newborns are no longer newborns. In fact, many of our “newborns” are crawling – nearly walking! And we recognize that we still have that extra baby-fat hanging on for dear life, anywhere and everywhere we least desire. Well, I got to that point after each of my babies, but after Ty, I made a decision that I would indeed reach my pre-pregnancy weight and be that athletic, fit girl that I used to be in college.

Late this morning, I had the privilege of going for a run. I need every opportunity I can get to burn extra calories! I nearly fainted by the time I got back, but I survived. When I got back in, I went in the bathroom to wash up. Every so often, before jumping in the shower, I take some time to gauge how much progress I’ve made on recovering the shape of my body. This is one incredible entitlement that mothers get to experience. Within a fairly short timespan, you get to see your body grow and change with the knowledge that a life is growing inside you. After you give birth, that bulge is gone, but your body takes a while to slowly shrink back to a normalized state. (I know, it doesn’t sound pretty…and it really isn’t.)

As I was standing in front of the mirror, the sunlight from the window was shining on me in such a way that I nearly gasped. I knew I had stretch marks, (especially after carrying Micah), but what I was staring at in disbelief through the mirror was something else! These marks were so ugly! I never did really care about my them before. Thoughts ran through my mind. Forget about the marks, what if the loose hanging skin never goes away?! It is very possible…especially after 3 fairly large babies. How embarrassing this would be if anyone would see this! And that 6 inch horizontal keloidal scar on my lower abdomen…I felt like I could star in some sort of Frankenstein film.

Momentarily, I thought about different options:  Maybe I should get lotions/creams to minimize the appearance of my stretch marks and scars…Maybe if I built enough muscle there — I’m doing sit-ups everyday!…I just need some plastic surgery!

I immediately realized how silly I was sounding in my own head and I was brought back to reality as I wondered why I cared so much about it. I jumped into the shower…and began to think.

I was reminded of Jesus and how much His body had to endure. If we believe that He forever enjoined Himself to the human family, it would be silly to think that when He ascended to Heaven, He changed back to exactly how He was before. He not only has scars. His body is not the same. There were consequences for His decision to come down to earth and save us. I don’t believe Jesus ever looks upon His body with shame or remorse. In fact, based on my limited knowledge of my Savior, I can imagine that Christ looks at His now imperfect body with a sense of joy…a sense of hope. His suffering bought the price of the entire human race. For Jesus, it was more than worth it.

My emotions suddenly shifted as I felt so honored to have just a taste of Christ’s experience. It seemed so selfish for me to view my body with such disgust. After all, it was to give life to my greatest treasures. It was a privilege that Jesus didn’t have to give me. And I too, will never be the same. I smiled to myself as I considered this: With my scars, I gave my boys life. With Jesus’s scars, He gave my boys life eternal. If Jesus is keeping His, I want to keep mine.

From that point on, I began to view my scars in a different light. Yes, they will be a reminder of the privilege of motherhood. But they will be much more now. They will be scars of hope, that together with the scars of Jesus, my boys will not have been born in vain.

“But rejoice, inasmuch as ye are partakers of Christ’s sufferings; that, when His glory shall be revealed, ye may be glad also with exceeding joy.” 1 Peter 4:13

This post is dedicated to my sister (family doc) and sister-in-law (pediatrician) who have helped me make many of my decisions.  Thank you for being patient with me in answering my questions and concerns.  I feel so blessed!

Since our firstborn came along, I was faced with something I’ve never, ever had to deal with before.  Although I had read close to a dozen books on parenting, the gravity of it didn’t sink in until he came along.  I, all of a sudden, had to make every decision for my baby.  It truly felt as though the destiny of my children rested in my hands.

There were many aspects of this that were quite easy.  We already had a name for him.  We had read Adventist Home & Child Guidance several times through.  We were willing to do anything to first and foremost ensure his salvation, but then after that things got a little blurry.  The decisions got more and more difficult to make.

Circumcise or no?  Should we get the no-chemical diapers?  Which is better: binky or thumb?  Do we want to get them vaccinated?  Homemade baby food or store-bought?  Should we go organic?  Are fluoride drops safe?  Allow any TV or videos?  Should we get a babysitter?  Toys during church or no?  Is giving Benadryl on a long plane ride drug abuse? …and the list goes on and on.

There is a lot of hype going around about many baby-related things.  I remember being so overwhelmed by having to decide all of these things for my child, particularly when you have so many women peers bringing up these issues with a determination to convert you.  There is a super-sensitivity that parents have when it comes to how to properly raise your babies…actually, I’d say a more accurate word is anxiety.  And it never did help that the first thing many turned to to get our information was the Internet and all of the “research” out there.  Our protective instincts seem to assume that the world is out to get our babies and do them harm and only an elite few have the honest answers.  (Maybe it’s just an Adventist thing.)  It’s like we’re out to find “new truth”.  It’s amazing how easily we are drawn to conspiracy theories risking much for the slight chance that it may be true.  I know, because in the past 4 years, I’ve gone through all the extremes and back again and sometimes again…even if it was just in the dark recesses of my mind.  It can be quite torturing. 

Well, I have made my decision:          

I have decided to follow the Bible, Spirit of Prophecy, and yes, the doctors in my life.  No more Internet perusing or believing those news headlines.  I’m so thankful that God has blessed us with so many intelligent, faithful doctors in our sphere whom we can call at any time.  Unless there is proven research on a topic that has the attention of the medical community, I am going to take these “concerns” or “developments” with a grain of salt.  I am no longer going to stress nor engage in these issues that a loud few are so passionate about.  I’m sure they are very sincere and they may have some evidence, but it’s not going to be something I turn into a salvational issue. 

In our day and age, technology has definitely increased knowledge.  But this has opened up so many doors for devil’s rabbits.  (Colporteurs were here last week so I thought I’d use that analogy in honor of them…what a waste of time!  🙂  I don’t want to fall into that trap of fear and paranoia again.  I know God doesn’t want me to live like that.  It takes faith to believe that these negotiable decisions are not what determines God’s ultimate will for our children.  He hasn’t designed motherhood to be so challenging that we are spending hours upon hours on a decision that may have minimal effect on our kids’ lives.  We have more important things to focus on.  I believe we must move on.

So, here’s to a new life of human effort combined with divine power and a faith that cannot be moved.  Our best, however sorry that may be, is enough to beckon God’s grace.  He is strong enough to cover and even reverse our weaknesses and failings.  It’s a miracle that only God can perform and it makes me feel free.

“Now unto Him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you FAULTLESS before the presence of His glory with exceeding joy…” Jude 24

The other day, Imanuel and Micah were playing (-and when they play, they mean business!) and I was in the kitchen doing some cooking.  All of a sudden, Imanuel shrieked quite loudly, “MOMMY!  IT’S A DISASTER!”  Now, I had established that the only time we raise our voices in the house is if there is an emergency…meaning, someone gets badly hurt, Bentley is about to get eaten by a coyote, – you get the idea – and Manu is usually pretty good about abiding by this rule.  So, I rushed over and asked him what happened.  Manu exclaimed, “LOOK!  MICAH!”  There was Micah, sitting on the living room floor, knocking over all of Manu’s block towers that he was building.  And Micah had no remorse at that.  Manu had even tried asking Micah to stop and he wouldn’t.  It was a disaster. 

My temptation was to explain to Manu that what was happening didn’t fall into the category of a “disaster” and wasn’t reason enough for raising his voice as he had done.  In that moment, I was reminded of something I had read a while back:

“Parents should know how to sympathize with their children in their little troubles, that look as large to them as older people’s trials look to them,” ST May 20, 1889.           

Parents “should…mingle with the children, sympathizing with them in their little troubles, binding them to their hearts by the strong bonds of love,”  RC 174.  (also found in AH)

I had thought about my childhood. 

My first clear memory was my first day of kindergarten and I was age 4.  I remember what craft we did – we were pasting together traffic signals – and I also remember the emotional rush of being away from my entire family and with (at that time) complete strangers for the A.M. session.  I also rode the bus all by myself.   

Well, Imanuel is age 4.  And I remember being age 4.  I don’t know why this intrigues me so much, but it does.  I find myself trying to empathize with him more, but at the same time, remembering my role as his mother.  Here’s a list of some of my “major disasters” from childhood:

–  Having to give away Kitty’s kittens. 
–  Wanting to go to McDonald’s really badly, but Dad saying no.
–  Missing the school bus and having to walk/run to school and not be tardy.
–  My sister or a friend not wanting to play with me.
–  Getting a “B” on my report card.

 It seems so silly now, but at the time, it was serious and emotions would run high.  If we think back, we would remember how those bitter (or sweet) interactions between our siblings, parents, and friends at home, church, or in school were our lives. 

The Lord so patiently listens to all of our worries, and more amazingly, He deeply cares about our feelings.  So, I’ve been trying to remember what it was like.  I’ve always wanted my priority to be caring for my boys.  What this means now is being a good listener and knowing how to respond to their “little troubles”, their disappointments, their sadness.  I need Jesus to give me wisdom.  Even though I will probably fail them on more than one occasion, I want them to know that I’m trying to understand their young hearts, and to be reasonable.  After all, I’d gladly fix “disasters” at this age when a hug or kiss can make everything better, than when they grow up and experience what “real” life is all about! 

One of my current “little troubles”.  The Lord has been merciful and after just 2 days of consistent training, Micah has been doing great at using the potty.  HALLELUJAH!

Hope everyone has a restful, relaxing Sabbath day!

It first hit me while I was changing newborn Imanuel’s diaper after a night feeding.  I looked at him laying on the changing table in our bathroom at our Ypsi house.  As he looked up at me with his eyes filled with wonder and innocence, I wanted to tell him.  I wished I could express just how much I loved him.  But he pretty much had no clue who I was, let alone understand how he had altered the course of my life.  It broke my heart to realize that he wouldn’t remember these moments.  I wanted him to know how much time and energy I had dedicated for him – waking up every few hours with him, feeding him, bathing him, watching him, worrying over him, praying for him, dreaming dreams for him…I just wanted him to know what he meant to me.  I realized that these special moments were for me to cherish alone.  He wouldn’t remember.  Call it hormones, but I remember being so overwhelmed that I began to weep.  It was from then, that within me, I began to grow the heart of a parent.  

A while ago, I remember hearing in a sermon that a child can never out-love his/her parents.  The more he explained, the more it made sense.  It’s a natural law that my kids will never love me more than I love them.  I was not alone.  But to make matters “fair”, I realized that my parents love me more than I love them.  That was pretty humbling.  After all of the self-sacrifice they endured, my siblings and I can’t love them as they truly deserve.  

The conclusion was simple, but really spoke to my heart – we can never out-love God.  He is the Father of all.  This means that no one in the universe loves God more than He loves them and He knew this would happen even before we were created.  I realized that during that night in the bathroom, I didn’t cherish that moment alone.  We never really do.  My Heavenly Father was close, giving me a glimpse into His heart.  If I would have known what I know now, I would have taken those moments of weeping to thank Him for His matchless, unselfish love and for showing me the true heart of a Parent.  It will never be fair for God.  

It is my sincere hope and prayer that as my boys grow, they will strive to know how much God loves them.  After all, who am I compared to the Lord?  The boys may never understand my love for them, but no one will ever know God’s infinite love for us.        

“For I am persuaded that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor principalities, nor powers, nor things present, nor things to come, nor height, nor depth, nor any other creature, shall be able to separate us from the love of God, which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.”  Romans 8:38-39

Who will love Him back?