Heaven’s Joy

This poem was written by a friend 6 years ago after our twin girls were born and entered Heaven. I read it countless times after they passed, because it provided me with mind pictures of the hope I clung to. I asked my friend permission to share it on here today in their memory.

In memory of

Madison Faith ~ August 11, 2006

and

Taylor Grace ~ August 13, 2006

Heaven’s Joy

A Poem for Taylor and Madison

Sweet little twins

Born so small and perfect

We wanted you to stay

Did you feel our love?

 

Precious little babies

Hear the lullaby of Jesus

Snuggle close to angel’s wings

Your spirits light and free

 

Lovely little daughters

In your new glorious bodies

Your daddy’s hopes, your mama’s dreams

Are in the arms of our Eternal Father

 

Darling little girls

Playing together in heaven

Skipping streets of gold, hand in hand

Your laughter rings out

 

Joyful little princesses

Gathering flowers for Mama

Blowing kisses down to Daddy

Your sky paintings decorate our world

 

Wondrous little children

Wide-eyed at the feet of Jesus

Hearing the true and ancient stories

From the source, the King Himself

 

Watchful little guardians

With glances toward the gate

Like Madison waited for Taylor

Now watch and wait for us

 

Beautiful little angels

Making your home in Heaven

Show us all your special places

On that grand reunion day!

 

Eternal little souls

Our sorrow is Heaven’s joy

Unmatched love surrounds you now

In Heaven and from Earth

12 sleeps and snow

12 SLEEPS!    JUST 12 MORE SLEEPS!!

My sister and nieces are coming! The ones I haven’t seen in over 2 years!! The niece that Leesie longs to play with so much she named her imaginary friend then blue bat friend after her. And the other niece that I haven’t seen since she was two months old. THEY WILL BE HERE AFTER JUST 12 MORE SLEEPS!

Not that I’m excited or anything. Ok, I’m ecstatic!!!

And as if that weren’t exciting enough, we – my big sis and I – are taking a road trip with our 4 kids to see our lil’ sis in Nevada! I haven’t seen her in far too long either. Aaaaaaaaaannd, we will be meeting our brand new adorable baby nephew, Mason! Who hasn’t actually been born yet, but I already know he’s adorable. And my older sis and nieces will meet Mason’s big brother, Riley for the first time, too – even though he’s 1 already 1 1/2. And I will get to squish-kiss his adorable cheeks.

AND ALL THE 6 COUSINS WILL GET TO PLAY TOGETHER for the first time! Well, Mason will probably just want to sleep since he’ll be just a week or two old. Every party has a pooper…

Aaaaand, my mom will be there, too, because she is flying down to be there when Mason makes his appearance.

So to sum up:

Mom + her 3 girls + all six (by then) grandchildren on this earth (3 boys, 3 girls) + 1 husband (Kylie’s) = LOADS AND LOADS OF FUN AND MEMORY MAKING that hasn’t happened since… since everbecause the last time we were all together at the same time was 2 years and 5 months ago, and 3 of these babies – all the boy grandbabies – didn’t even exist yet!

Sadly, we will really miss dad, and 2 of the husbands (mine and Korie’s).

Hmmmm…. The 3 men that have been around the longest in this family are not going to be there at the reunion of the 3 sisters and mother + 6 grandbabies. I wonder if they have some wisdom from experience they forgot to share with Ryan…

Kidding, of course. They are all working. I know they – dad especially – would love to be there. Hoping and praying for a reunion next year that includes all of us.

I’ve done a few re-posts of Facebook notes I wrote over the last year to keep them all in one place. I only have a couple left. The one below was for my niece, Ellia, on her 4th birthday this past January. Since I get to see her in just 12 sleeps and she is on my mind constantly right now, I’m posting it today.

I LOVE YOU, Ellia!! I can’t wait to see you and your mommy and sis in just 12 sleeps!!!! (And YOU Kylie, Ryan, Riley, and Mason – just shortly after that!) This is one happy girl over here!!!

A Prayer for Snow – January 26, 2012

Last week, when many of us were waking up to inches of snow, my older sister and her family were “enduring” temperatures in the upper 80s. They live in Surabaya, Indonesia, where they serve as missionaries and pastor a church. Korie and John have two adorable girls (my adorable nieces), Ellia and Alyssa, who have spent most of their short lives (they’re just 4 and almost 2), over there.

 So while we were all posting pictures of sledding, snowmen and igloos, Ellia was praying for God to send snow to Surabaya. “Mommy, I’m afraid that I’m never going to see snow again!” she said. Even when she was told God would probably not answer her prayer for snow in their hot city, she said, “It’s ok, I’ll just keep praying.” (Now there is a girl with some faith.) Korie posted Ellia’s comment on Facebook and told all their Washington friends and family to enjoy the snow. I read the post and felt sad for my little niece who likely wouldn’t understand why God wouldn’t answer such a simple request for snow. (Oh, ME of little faith.)

So here’s what happened…

I was typing up a response to Korie, when I looked up and read the response above mine. A friend of hers posted something about fake snow that looks and feels like the real thing. I remembered seeing the same stuff when I went to Victorian Christmas. I was with some church friends at the time, and one of them had mentioned purchasing some in Whatcom County for her grandkids before Thanksgiving.

I called her up. She said she bought it at Grandiflora in Lynden, but that was before Thanksgiving. She doubted they’d still be carrying it now. I called there. No answer. It was the middle of a snowstorm and all the county schools were closed as well as some businesses. I figured Grandiflora was closed, too.

So I called Michaels. They were out and wouldn’t have it until Christmas. I called JoAnns. Out. I was actually ok with that, though, because I was without a car and there was a snowstorm, so really how would I get it anyway?

 I searched the internet and found a couple brands that were kind of pricey, and I didn’t want to add shipping costs on top of the shipping costs I’d have sending it to Indonesia. I figured I’d wait and when I came across it, I’d pick it up and send it to her. It just may not be until next Christmas.

Then I remembered Grandiflora had a voicemail box. I called them back to leave a message. Only this time someone answered.

I described the product I was looking for. She knew what it was but thought it was an odd request considering the weather. After all, I could just step outside and get as much as I’d like for free. She was kind, but said that although they had some packs left, they had already packed it up with some other stuff for next season. It would probably be very difficult to find, and the owners weren’t in. She didn’t even know where to begin to look.

So I began to tell her the story of my little niece’s childlike faith and her prayer for snow… only I didn’t get very far. I barely got the those words out when the woman on the other end nearly shouted, “Oh! It’s here! It’s here! God just directed my eyes RIGHT to it!” She seemed very surprised, because it was supposed to have been packed up, but there was an entire box of snow that had not gotten put away.

Perfect.

She set aside 6 packs for me and put the rest away. Now I just had to get through the real snow to pick it up … Thankfully, unlike Michael’s and JoAnn’s, Grandiflora is only a couple miles away and Matt would be home with a car before they closed.

Now here is what I love about this. Ellia was going to get snow. It was set aside for us to get. But even better, she was going to get it while we still had snow. Because my mom – who has never traveled out of the US/Canada – was going to visit Korie, John, Ellia and Alyssa. And she was leaving in three days.

Just the fact that she was going at all was a miracle. It wasn’t likely going to ever happen, but a wonderful friend blessed mom with a trip and didn’t give her a choice. Mom was going. Another wonderful friend blessed mom by going with her. They – and the snow – would be arriving the day before Ellia’s birthday.

We had just enough time to wait out the real snow, get the fake snow, and drive it (safely) down to Mt. Vernon to meet my mom and stick it in her suitcase as she was leaving.

Mom and Darlene boarded a plane and about 36 hours later, they were in Indonesia. It was evening there, and by the time they got to Korie’s house, everyone was exhausted. I don’t imagine there would have even been time for playing in the snow even if they wanted to. It would have to wait until the next day, Ellia’s birthday.

So guess what? Ellia got snow. It arrived on her birthday. With about 16 Indonesian friends who I’m guessing have never ever seen it before and may not ever again. My sister says it was a hit. They all played and played and played in it. They went outside and threw it in the air and at each other. A little boy who has cried the whole time every time he’s been at Korie’s before laughed and played for the first time. Ellia got snow. With friends. In Surabaya. On her birthday. Just a week after she first prayed for it.

You may be rolling your eyes. “Why would God answer that prayer?” And I’ll admit. I thought it too. “Poor Ellia. God won’t be answering her prayer for snow.”

But then again, why wouldn’t He? He is GOD, after all. Clearly HE is capable. But snow? In Surabaya? Just because a little girl prayed for it? That’s really just a child’s silly wish, right?

Here’s the thing. God answered Ellia’s prayer. Not in the way she expected, but it was answered nonetheless. Some may read this and chalk it up to a series of coincidences. But I know God loves us. He knows us. It says in Isaiah 43:1, “I have called you by name, you are mine.”   We are HIS. I am HIS. Ellia, YOU are GOD’s.

He not only loves us and knows us, but He delights in us. Zephaniah 3:17 “The Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great delight in you, he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.”  We are HIS children. What father doesn’t take joy in the laughter of his children? What father doesn’t rejoice and celebrate the life of his child?

I will be the first to say that every request we bring to him isn’t granted. I’ve had some big requests go unfulfilled. It doesn’t always make sense. But I do know that His thoughts are not our thoughts, His ways are not our ways (Isaiah 55:8). I guess when it comes down to it, I’m thankful for that. My ways are awfully selfish. And I don’t see the picture He sees. And I know God isn’t our magic genie to be used to grant wishes.

So why the snow? I know some people will read this and think, “God doesn’t do stuff like that. He isn’t worried about silly requests like that.” I’ve even heard friends say, “God doesn’t have time for those little prayers. He’s too busy dealing with wars and big stuff.” I say to you, don’t minimize the power of God. He is all-powerful. He is all knowing. He is supreme. And I am so thankful that he is not so distracted by the “big” events of the world that he has no time for me. Because not even the biggest events in my life can compare to the massive needs in the world.  If God was “too busy dealing,” he would never have time for me. Or probably you.

But he is not too busy. He is not distracted. He is not a distant God that only cares about “big things.” WE are HIS. HE cares about US. EACH of us. He is WITH us.

And he rejoices over us with singing.

Ellia had a little prayer with some massive faith. And she is God’s. HE cares about HER.

Sweet Ellia, GOD delights in YOU. HE was rejoicing over YOU with singing on your birthday. HE was celebrating YOU.

Happy 4th birthday, my beautiful niece.

the one my soul loves

For a few weeks now, I’ve wondered what I could write on here for an anniversary post. I wanted to write something to you. I mean, I’ve already written about many things I love, things that have changed me. God and his grace, our kids, the twins, my parents. And although you’ve appeared in some of the posts, it is usually just so I can tease or mock you. (It’s my way of flirting with you, you know.)

But I couldn’t quite figure out how to write an anniversary post. What do I say to the person who has been there as I’ve struggled through my anger towards God and listens as I learn about His grace, to the person who held me through the twins, who talked me through the fears and did more disgusting jobs than I’d care to admit, who loves me in my mommy failures and laughs with me through the hilarious moments of parenting? I’ve written about all those things, but what do I write to you, the one who has been there all along?

And then I realized the words I’m looking for…

Thank you.

Thank you for holding me, loving me, guiding me, helping me grow.

The verse we used on our wedding invitations was,“I have found the one my soul loves.” ~Song of Solomon 3:4

It’s funny, how perspectives change after just 7 years of marriage. I did love you then. But 7 years later, I am realizing I didn’t know how much I could love you. I didn’t fully understand the depths of that verse. I know now. No, I’m learning.

My soul loves how you hold me in quiet, when there are no words to describe the hurt.

My soul loves how you walk in the door and make the kids and I laugh after a long day for us, and for you at work. When I am about to pull my hair out, and they are about to knock each others’ teeth out. You calm us and help us enjoy being together once again. A “magic closet” that gets rid of grumpiness? Pure genius.

My soul loves how you ask me questions that stretch my faith, at just the right moment. How when I scream and yell at God and act irrationally, you are steady. And you are okay that I am not.

My soul loves how in my most unlovable moments, you love me most. I think you are showing me a glimpse of how God loves me fully. Unconditionally. You love me like that. You love me with grace.

My soul loves how you put us first. How there is nothing you’d rather be doing than just being with me and the kids.

And even if my ears don’t always, my soul loves, and I mean really really loves, when you sing, and when you make up songs that keep us all laughing and singing too.

My soul loves a million more things about you.

And I just wanted to say thank you. For loving me like that. I love you, too. Really bad.

Happy anniversary, to the one my soul loves.

My girl

You may have noticed that in my recent posts, Jacob has been the star. Annalise sometimes appears, but she is generally a by-stander during the hilarious antics of her brother. In some posts, she has been completely absent. There is a reason for this. And that reason is NOT that Jacob is my favorite. It is also NOT that he is funnier or cuter. It is also NOT that she is naughtier or boring.

Ok, maybe Jacob is funnier right now. But mainly because he is two and it’s part of his job. It’s funny when the two-year-old escapes and runs to the back yard buck naked and says to you as you finally discover him outside going down the slide on a sunny day, “Ooooh… My BUNS are HOT, Mama!” If the 4 year old did that, it wouldn’t be quite as funny. It would be just be naughty. And also inappropriate. And it may be funny – although not in the moment – that he stuck his hands in his diaper at the dinner table and showed us the “dirt” he found inside that was now on his fingers, but I would not be laughing and posting it for all to read if his big sister had done so. So as a two-year-old, his opportunities for hilarious entertainment are really less restrictive than with the four year old. TWO is funny. It just is.

And that isn’t to say that FOUR isn’t funny. It’s just different. I did laugh when Annalise said to me, “Mommy, what’s that kind of poo-poo called when it comes out really smoove? (smooth) Because I think I have that.” I also laughed when she believed Grandpa Kitchen when he told her there was a little man inside the red Staples button on his desk, so that each time you push the button, the little man says, “That was easy.” She ran to show me the red button and told me all about the little man that lived inside, but then she dropped it and it landed upside-down. “Oh. Never mind. Grandpa was just teasin’. I see where the battery goes.”

So yes, she makes us laugh too. But the real reason I haven’t written much about Annalise is because, well…. I can’t. Not without crying. Lately, we have watched our little girl change so much. Mature, grow, and think deeply. She is still funny. She is still naughty. She is still 4.

But in some moments, she seems 12. Or even 16. Sometimes, she asks deep questions, and we have a conversation that I didn’t know I could even have with her.

Like the other day, when she asked Matt if the people that live on the bottom of the earth are upside-down since we’re “by the top” and we’re right-side-up. Too bad Mama wasn’t around when she asked that one, because I’m fairly certain she has some major misconceptions now about the world being “round but still sorta flat at the same time.” Thank you, Daddy. Annalise now thinks the world is a pancake.

Or yesterday when she asked me, “Mommy, what does ‘evicted’ mean?” I have no idea where she even heard the word. You could insert a thousand different words there that she has asked me about after overhearing strangers’ conversations, something on the radio, or in a song.

Or like the other day when she asked me how the message I type to daddy on my phone gets to him wherever he is. And how do they know where he is? And how do the words go up in the sky and land on his phone? And why – if we pray really hard, and if God loves us really much – do sometimes our prayers not get answered with a yes, “like when I pray about that I really want to see my cousin I miss so bad. Other people get to LIVE BY their cousins and see them EVERY DAY. I don’t even get to see mine AT ALL. And…

My girl is growing up. I love to watch it so much, and at the same time, I want it to stop now. This growing up thing, it’s so emotional. On the parents, I mean. I’m scared to blink.

This weekend, we watched her perform at her ballet recital. She was beautiful. She did amazing. She remembered all her steps. Then at one point, she lost her footing and stumbled – just for a moment. My heart jumped into my throat, my stomach fell. Matt gasped. She continued her dance and I waited for her to turn so I could see her face. It seemed like an eternity as I watched, expecting to see tears or a face I knew was holding them back. I was ready to run backstage to meet her and hold her while she cried and to tell her it was okay and that I was so so proud of her. Instead, she turned, and I saw my girl. On her feet, on her own. Beaming with a smile.

Part of me shouted inside, “ATTA GIRL! THAT’S MY GIRL!” Another part of me cried inside, knowing she was brave and strong… all on her own. She didn’t need me standing next to her or holding her hand or telling her to get back up. Because she was big enough and brave enough and confident enough to do it without me.

The show was over, and all the performers came out with their classes for the final bow. First the oldest girls, then the next oldest, on down to the youngest little darlings in their adorable tutus. Annalise’s class was third to last – third to youngest –  led out by their teacher, as all the little girls’ classes were. She curtsied and took her place on the stage. My heart swelled with pride.

There are two things we realized that night.

1) Our girl is growing up. She is really such a big girl.

2) Our girl is still very very little.

I am so so proud of my big-little girl.

a

Mocking Bird

I think one of the ways God keeps us parents humble is by creating our children to mimic everything we do.

Just when you feel like super-mom because you mastered the never-ending to-do list all while keeping the family happy… who am I kidding? That never happens. Let me try that again…

Just when you feel proud for being a parenting rockstar, because your children never fight, for making it an entire day without screwing up in the parenting department… UGH.

Just when you feel good because you finally had ONE positive parenting moment, you overhear one of your kids on their “phone” say in a remarkably familiar tone, “You have got to be kidding me. What an idiot!” Or the other child drops a toy and says in frustration with a furrowed brow, “dogGONit!”

Yep, there is no way one can get a big head with the little mini-mes running around highlighting every one of your flubs, parenting or otherwise. And it isn’t just the things you say. Their mannerisms, body language, and how they react to things can often mirror each other and mom and dad. (Although I have no idea where Annalise picked up that eye roll with a sigh thing. Seriously. Just don’t ask her dad about it.)

What I’ve begun to realize is that as they get older, the mimicking changes a bit.

A 2-year old often mimics immediately and verbatim – or as close to verbatim as was understood. I say, “Jacob, come here and give mommy a kiss.” He says, “Give mommy kiss?” I say, “Why is your shirt all dirty?” He says, “Because my shirt all doody.” I get frustrated and let out a loud “uuugggghhh!” Jacob does the same, and then looks at me with a big dimpled grin, apparently proud of his ability to remind me that he is always listening and capable of repeating anything. Anything.

The 2-year old also mimics seemingly mindlessly. At least the chatty 2-year-old does. What I mean is, while his mouth is constantly moving, he can hear something from a distance and add it to the continual chatter.

Example: While in the grocery store, Jacob was telling me a story about Maggie, the dog at Bev’s house. Despite his sister constantly interrupting him to tell me we should buy this or that, or that we really neeeeeed fruit snacks and chocolate covered granola bars, and even though I wasn’t fully focused (I did slip in a number of “Uh-huhs,” and “Oh, wow!”s so he knew I was “listening”), the boy just. didn’t. stop. talking. You’d think that while one was so busy ignoring his sister and telling every detail of his interactions with a puppy, one would not be aware of other sounds, such as the background music and intermittent advertisements being played in the store. But you would be wrong. Because as he told his never-ending story, he’d take a break to comment on whatever it was the nice lady on the loud speaker was advertising. “And den (then) Maggie wunned (ran) over and… she said choc-o-wat, Mama. Choco-wat nummy. Wight, mama? Wight? It nummy. We should get some of dat too… and Maggie wunned over and fall down wif a big cwash! She cwashed and it was so funny! And… she said da qwackers on sale. Did you hear, mama? Da qwackers nummy, too. Day on sale!….And den Maggie got up and…”

How does he do that? I can barely hear him and Annalise and pay attention to my grocery list without running the cart into things. He can tell a story, block out Annalise-noise, hear and repeat commercials, and continue his story where he left off, all the while pointing out things he’d like to buy as we pass them. He is the only male I know that can successfully multi-task.

The 2-year old has an unusually keen sense of hearing. He can pick up on whispered phrases, but he is most talented at catching things said in another part of the house. While he and his sister argue over a toy for the thousandth time, one parent (not mentioning any names) overhears in another room and says in frustration, “My gosh guys, c’mon!” Immediately we hear Jacob shout, “My gosh, guys, c’mon!” Followed by Leesie shouting, “JACOB! DON’T. SAY. GOSH! MOMMEEEEE! JACOB SAID GOSH!”  Great.

Jacob is so good at repeating everything – at any time and from any part of the house – that I called him my little mocking bird. His reply, “I am not your walking-bird! I Jacobpweestman!” He then walked out of the room chattering, “walking-bird, walking-bird, walking bird…” Exactly. And how I love you, my little mocking bird.

4-year-old mocking birds mimic differently, for they are a bit wiser. These older and wiser mocking birds choose phrases they like and try them out at a later – and sometimes very random – time. This is their way of testing a phrase to see if it they want to add it to their repertoire.

Example: In a fit of anger for being put in time out, my sweet girl hollered from the corner of the hall. “Well… You… YOU… You’re just JEALOUS!” (Like I said, phrases are tested out at often very random times.)

So where’d that come from? I don’t recall ever using that phrase in front of her – or come to think of it – at all. It isn’t a word I use much, and certainly not in that tone. But she heard it somewhere and decided to try it out. Multiple times a day. For several weeks. And not once was it used correctly.

“Annalise, can you please pick up your toys?”

“No! You’re just JEALOUS!”

 

“Leesie, don’t talk to your brother like that!”

“You’re just JEALOUS, mom!” No. Actually I’m not. I’m really really not.

 

Or to Jacob, “Go away! You’re just JEALOUS!”

Good grief.

I explained to her that: 1) She clearly didn’t know what the word jealous means and was using the phrase incorrectly, 2) She was obviously trying to be mean, and that wasn’t okay, and 3) If she continued to use it, there would be consequences. Not because the actual phrase was mean, but because her intentions were.  (After explaining that one, she tried out the word “intentions” for a few days on me… until she couldn’t remember what word it was anymore.)

“You’re just jealous!” was also then adopted by brother-mocking-bird, who used it on me a few times as well. It’s very difficult to keep a straight face when a super-cute-toddler-trying-(unsuccessfully)-to-have-a-very-stern–face says to you, “You so jealous, mom!”

Jealous? Of wearing diapers? Of having to depend on others to feed and clothe me? Of playing all day? Of daily naps? Of having no responsibility whatsoever? Yeah, actually. Maybe I am. Except for the diapers part.

In any case, I’m glad that phrase finally ran its course and was not permanently added to the 4-year-old’s repertoire.

It can be very obvious when a 4-year-old mocking bird is trying out a new phrase, even when it is used correctly. They will often say it more than once, and they may look at you to study your reaction to their latest verbiage.

Example: We were on a walk, when we noticed a lady walking her boxer up ahead. Annalise’s Uncle Tom also has a boxer named Elby. While boxers can look very similar, this one was pretty different from Elby and clearly not him. Nevertheless, Annalise decided it was a good opportunity to test a new phrase. In a bit of a chatty middle-school-girlish voice, she said, “Woah! I saw that dog and thought it looked like Elby. But then I was like, what the heck? How could that be Elby out here? And Uncle Tom isn’t even around! So, what the heck???” Quick glance at mom to read my reaction.

I was like??? What the heck???? Is she a 14-year-old from the early 90’s or something? And where did she hear that phrase in the first place? What the h…. Ohhhh… Never mind. Turns out I am the 14-year-old from the early 90’s. And she is just my mocking bird. But I would never tell her that. Because she is wise, and sensitive, and she is ever-trying to be her own person. Only while doing so, she ends up a lot like me. How I love you so, my beautiful and wise 4-year-old mocking bird.

The best (or worst, depends on how you look at it) of the mocking bird mimicking comes, not in words and phrases, but in actions. In moments where you see your little birds doing exactly what you would do. It is the best, because you know how much they really are like you, and somehow, that is comforting. But it is also the worst, because you know how much they really are like you, and that is also very very frightening.

Example: Jacob loves his little cars. He has oh-so-many of them. More than a 2-year old needs, for sure. He sleeps with them, carries them around the house, and takes them everywhere we go in the car. This morning, we heard him talking loudly in the other room. We weren’t sure exactly what he was playing, but his voice was boisterous, as though he were announcing something. This went on for a few minutes before Matt came to me and said, “Come here. Come see what your son is doing.”

My son? Why my son? Is he being naughty, so you don’t claim him? This is what I found:

Not naughty. Just organized and categorizing. Disney cars on the right, other cars on the left/back, larger cars on the ground. And all lined up neatly. (His loud talking was introducing each vehicle “on stage.”)

Yes. My son. How proud I felt. My boy. Linear thinker. So neat. So organized. Just like his mama, who keeps all the pencils in the container with the erasers at one end, turns all the mugs in the cupboard so the handles face the same way, stacks things in cute organized bins including one labeled “Labels,” and always – always – straightens poker chips when playing Texas Hold ‘Em so the white marks on the rim of the chips make a straight white line all the way down. (Clearly, I just play for fun with friends. I’m not sure that kind of behavior would be allowed in casinos. I don’t care which stack is bigger… just give me the straight chips.)

Unnerving chaos:                     Better, but still needing adjustments:

                                                                  

My mocking bird. Organizing his cars. I must get a picture. I grabbed my phone, doing my best to overlook the small gap between two of the cars and stopping myself from straightening the one that was slightly crooked at the end. He will learn. Noticing those details will come with time.

And then, just as I’m about to snap the shot, my 4-year-old mocking bird jumps up. “Wait! Let me just straighten this car and push these together,” she says while scooting the row of cars over, ignoring the protests from her brother.

Ah, yes. And there are drawbacks to my OCD behavior. I recall that now. Over-organizing. Wanting things my way. Not being happy with good enough. That’s right… just when I start feeling proud, my mocking birds remind me of my faults and keep me humble.

But oh, how I love those birds, my gifts. I must do better, for them. They motivate me.

And so my prayer:

LORD, just for today, give me the strength to be patient and loving at all times. To keep my cool, but to be warm to the little ones around me. When I am proud, remind me that “everything good in me is You, everything else is just me.” Help me to model less of me and more of You. And for my little birds, help me to speak JOY, GRACE, and uplifting words of STRENGTH, so they will do the same. ~ Amen