Author: joyfuldomesticity

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he leaves me speechless

Last Wednesday evening, my oldest son and I got to tag along with my parents to a Lenten event at our church, while my husband stayed home with two sick toddlers. It made me feel like a kid again, sitting in the backseat of my parents’ car; and having my little boy next to me, feeling more like he was my brother than my son, made me relaxed and happy. We talked, mostly in giggly whispers, the whole way to church. And hours later (long after bedtime), he held my hand in the backseat while he fell asleep. Before he fell asleep though, he asked my dad, “so Grandpapa, your birthday is tomorrow: what would you like to do special with me for your birthday?” What an adorable grandchildlike question. So it was decided that the next morning, Gabriel would take Grandpapa out for breakfast, before one went to work & the other went to a fire station on a fieldtrip. Well, the breakfast happened on Grandpapa’s birthday, and I swung by to pick up my little boy on our way to the fieldtrip, and as he climbed into the backseat (where he feels more like my son and less like my brother), he said, “Mommy I bought you a present!” At first, I thought maybe he meant the last sip of 7Up in the shiny green can he clutched against his chest. But then he held out a precious little wooden sign with a cheesy saying and a wire hanger, complete with a red gingham ribbon tied on. He spent his very own five dollar bill on it for me, for no other reason than he saw it, he thought of me, and he wanted to make me smile. I held it together, but I kind of wanted to cry. This little man-in-the-making is both tender and strong. And he leaves me speechless, at the foot of the throne of grace in thankfulness.

 

The memories my children carry with them into adulthood are largely up to me.
In the everyday routines of life,
I have the power to provide my children
with countless loving memories of human connection.
I also have the ability to leave my children
with a scarce supply of meaningful moments together.
~Rachel Macy Stafford, Hands Free Mama, p57~

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Freedom to love and enjoy our children
flows out of the knowledge that
God saves them in spite of our best efforts,
not because of them.
Salvation is of the Lord.
~Elyse Fitzpatrick & Jessica Thompson, Give Them Grace, p53~

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God started to show me how to see my son.
Not with a magnifying glass, but with a mirror.
~Lisa-Jo Baker, Surprised By Motherhood, p141~

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Prayers of Psalmody in Motherhood

 

Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord,
the fruit of the womb a reward.
Like arrows in the hand of a warrior
are the children of one’s youth.
Blessed is the man
who fills his quiver with them!
Psalm 127:3-5 (ESV)

My dear sisters in the Lord Jesus Christ, and most particularly today, the ones who are raising little ones for the Kingdom of God; how we need to cover not only our children in prayer but also ourselves as their mothers! I find it so much easier to pray for others than to pray for myself—but, oh, how naïve and simplistic that is! How prideful, to even pretend to think that I can get by without praying for myself. Because I need so much prayer, and especially in this wonderfully huge but terrifyingly small work of motherhood. Oh, Lord have mercy upon us!
Sisters who are mothers, please kneel with me at the feet of our Father while we bring Him our motherhood… and sisters who know mothers, please kneel alongside us and pray for us as well. We need Jesus and His grace, and we want to walk together in this journey of seeking the Kingdom to come on earth and specifically in its manifestations in the work of motherhood. Pray with me now, inserting your own personal tweaks, requests, and names as we go:

 

Lord of all creation, Father of all mercies, King of our hearts and homes,
Please hear us as we bring our petitions before You, and as we seek Your face today in our calling of motherhood—in all of its joys, challenges, enormity, smallness, victories, defeats, the miraculous and the mundane. You who once were knit inside Your mother, O Lord Jesus, (Luke 1:31, 35) You know what it is to dwell in a womb, to nurse on a breast, to cry in the night, to need food and clothing and snuggles and teaching—to need a mother. Hear us, Jesus, and grant that our requests would be heard and holy in the ears of Your Father, our Father.

We praise You and we bless Your name, for we know that You sit high in the heavens and that all things are under Your feet, including the daily and repetitive things. Oh Lord, You are the One that designed the daily rising and setting of the sun. You ordained repetition and routine, so please help us to embrace it and glory in it, resting in Your sovereignty even when the daily threatens to weigh us down. You look down upon those in the dust and those who are needy—even us, Father—and You lift us up, build us up, equip us, strengthen us, give us joy and promise and victory. You are our hope! We trust You, we praise You, we hope in You for every act of motherhood. Thank You for being our God, thank You for being God to our children not because we are faithful but because You are faithful, right from the womb. (Psalm 71:5-6) Thank You for the gift of children—thank You for filling wombs, filling arms, and for the various ways You do these things. It is hard to be thankful for things like infertility, miscarriage, and long roads of complicated pregnancy or adoption. But Father, in whatever ways You have accomplished our motherhood, thank You. Thank You for knitting children in wombs, for creating DNA strands and dividing cells. Thank You for secret work, for wonderful work, for intricate work. Thank You for planning each day of my life—and each day of my children’s lives. Thank You for the knowledge that I do not have power over their lives. (Psalm 139:13-16) Thank You for taking a woman and making her a mother. Thank You for making me a mother. Help me to praise You rightly for this gift, this responsibility, this joy, this mercy every single day. (Psalm 113)

Please give wisdom and kindness to my mouth, so that I will not speak harshly to my children but wisely and kindly. It is so easy to be snappy or snarky—please give words of mercy and grace in their place. (Proverbs 31:26) Please grant me a compassionate nature to remember that, like me, my children are but dust. Make me a mother who remembers the frame of my children, so that I build them up rather than tear them down. (Psalm 103:13-14) Please make me a woman that could justly be praised and blessed by those whom I serve as well as lead. (Proverbs 31:28)

Lord God, please teach me to love my children as I ought. (Titus 2:4) Be with my hands, my feet, my mouth, my ears, my eyes, my womb, my breasts—to use every part of me to love my children as You want me to, genuinely and truly. (1 John 3:18) Show me how to walk in love, so that I would lay down my life for my children not just sometimes but all the time. (Ephesians 5:1-2) Give me diligence to discipline when and how You require and desire. Allow me not to be swayed on my conviction against sin, but give me the eyes to see sin for what it is, where it is, and how it needs to be addressed. Give me the strength to love my children with discipline so that they would increase in wisdom. Please give me rest and delight rather than shame. (Proverbs 29:15, 17) Please teach me true forgiveness, so that I would forgive as I have been forgiven. (Psalm 32:1-2)

Please give me the industrious nature that I need to accomplish the work You have put into my hands. Gird me up, so that I can press on in faith, love, and holiness in self-control. (1 Timothy 2:15) When I labor to love my children, to feed them and clothe them, to educate their minds and nourish their souls, to make them happy and cover them with peace—allow me to do this in accordance with Your will, O God. (1 John 5:2-4) Cause me to obey Your commandments, to grow in my own faith so that I will always speak of Your glory and teach Your laws in ways that are true and winsome and inescapable. (Deuteronomy 6:7)

Please enable me to seek the good of my children, in their humanity and in their eternal souls. Convict me to pray for them regularly and specifically, night and day. (2 Timothy 1:3) Please remind me daily that their spiritual growth is more important than anything else, and give me the grace to preach the Gospel to my children through my actions as well as my words. Cause me to proclaim Your deeds and Your faithfulness, which You have taught me and proven to me repeatedly and continually. God who has never left nor forsaken me, allow me to rightly show forth these things to the next generation of those who love You! Give me the words and the wisdom to proclaim Your power and might. (Psalm 71:17-18) Please give us joyful praise together, to praise Your holy name! May each member of our family praise You, knowing that You are high above all things and You alone are to be exalted! Please give me the strength to teach this praise by genuine, diligent example. (Psalm 148:12-13) Be pleased, O Lord, to grant Your grace to continue on to another generation, and allow my faith and the faith of my mother and mother-in-law also to bolster the faith of my children. (2 Timothy 1:5)

Please, in Your merciful kindness, remind me that these beloved children belong to You, and help me to praise You for Your kind gift of life & appreciate the blessing of being entrusted with these little saints. Allow me to rejoice and be glad! (Proverbs 23:25) Please give me the bold strength to be tenderhearted, to imitate You in how I gather, carry, and gently lead my young ones. (Isaiah 40:11) Thank You for hearing our prayers, for remembering our frame, for loving our children, for drawing us to You by Your covenant love and faithfulness. We thank You, Lord, for Your steadfast love and Your faithfulness to our children. (Psalm 107:8, 15, 21, 31) We praise You for Jesus, our Prophet, Priest, and King, in whose glorious and saving name we pray these things at Your throne. Amen.

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fortification for the every day

When my husband got home, the kids were watching a video and I was sitting at my desk, with eyes trying to focus on some reading while my head rested in the palm of a hand and a weighted heating pad balanced on the aching muscles of my neck and shoulders. Lunch bag and stack of mail were set on the kitchen island as usual, and my hardworking handsome man came over to give me a hug & long-awaited kiss. Those big hugs and warm kisses at the start of the evening are marvelous, aren’t they?

But then came the inevitable question.
“How was your afternoon?” he asked. “What did you do?”

On this particular day, I bit my lip for a moment before just closing my eyes and chuckling. He seemed to wonder what was so suddenly comical in such a simple question.

I lifted my right index finger to indicate wait just a second, and I grabbed for a little book that I had just finished reading that afternoon. I paged through a couple chapters trying to figure out where the pertinent paragraph was.

Aha! I found it. And I read it to my husband:

If there’s one thing that can defeat a mother, it’s the monotony. Get up, feed the baby, wash the laundry, change the diapers, do the dishes, make the car pool run, wrestle the math homework, figure out a new way to make chicken, change the sheets—times 365 days in a row. It’s hard to see the significance when you’re so weighed down by the mundane. And it can feel like everyone else around you is busy doing big, important things while you have worn the same spit-up-stained sweatpants three days in a row. You dread the “So what did you do today?” question as you rack your brain to come up with more than, “Cleaned up after the kids.”
~Lisa-Jo Baker, Surprised By Motherhood, p113~

 

At that, my husband laughed. Then he kissed my forehead, made a comment about how he was glad that I “had an afternoon” and went about his business for the rest of the evening.

The normal chaos of family life ensued with playtime, dinnertime, cleanup, bedtime routines, and calming the chaos into rest while an almost full moon poured lunar glory through the windows and the screams of nearby coyotes filtered in around the panes. I played piano while the children rested in bed, and while my husband reclined for some Scripture reading. Then it was showers and time to recline myself in bed beside my husband. The best way to end the day. Any day. Every day.

As I ooched myself comfortably onto pillows and under duvet, my husband seemed to pause thoughtfully, and then turned to grab my attention with some subdued cue. “Thank you,” he said, “for doing all the mundane and monotonous things.” I felt my eyes begin to burn, and this time it wasn’t an eyelash poking around in places it ought not. “Thank you for making a delicious dinner. Thank you for taking care of the kids. Thank you for doing all the laundry. I love you.”

And oh ~ I felt my heart go all melty mooshy & my toes start to twitch nervously as I bashfully muttered, “you’re welcome,” and “I love you too.”

There is no part of our everyday, wash-and-repeat routine of kids and laundry and life and fights and worries and playdates and aching budgets and preschool orientations and work and marriage and love and new life and bedtime marathons that Jesus doesn’t look deep into and say, “That is Mine.” In Him all things hold together.
~Lisa-Jo Baker, Surprised By Motherhood, p116~

 

Then I gave him a kiss… soft kisses are such a gift… and I turned onto my side so that I could scootch my thighs and my knees and my back and my toes into all the most comfortable places, that rest right in the warm nooks of my husband. This man who notices the wash-and-repeat routine that I perform every day even when I don’t realize it, and who helps me to remember that all these things are glorious because all these things are for The King and His Kingdom.

 

And I slept all night in his arms, content and cozy, so I could face the next day with strengthened arms and fortified soul.

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budding chef

I love this little man-in-the-making for SO many (countless) reasons.
Including his budding chefness.

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The mushroom? Ah!
It is the proof of creation ex nihilo,
the paradigm of the marvelously solid unnecessariness of the world.
How anything so nearly nothing could at the same time
be so emphatically something—
how the Spirit brooding upon the face of the waters could have brought forth this…
well, words fail, and mystery reigns.
~Robert Farrar Capon, The Supper of the Lamb: a Culinary Reflection, p82~

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one little reflection

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We see ourselves in our children
better than in any mirror.
~Lisa-Jo Baker, Surprised By Motherhood, p187~

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I believe God loves us too much
to leave us flailing in our self-centered universes,
so He delivers these tiny reflections of ourselves
into our homes with earthquake effectiveness.
~Lisa-Jo Baker, Surprised By Motherhood, p187~

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Prayer of Psalmody ~ in expectancy

 

…I love you, O Lord, my strength.
The Lord is my rock and my fortress and my deliverer,
    my God, my rock, in whom I take refuge,
    my shield, and the horn of my salvation, my stronghold.
I call upon the Lord, who is worthy to be praised…
Psalm 18:1-3 (ESV)

Oh sisters, are you holding new life in your womb?! Is it the rainbow after your storm? Is it the balm in the midst of your brokenness? Is it the hope of heartbeats in the space of stillness? What a time of hope mingled with anxiety! What a chance, not just daily or hourly but moment-by-moment, to lay burdens and fears and worries and doubts and terrors at the feet of Jesus—not to mention bringing Him all of our hopes and desires! I have carried miraculous life in my womb a dozen times—only the first time held naïve, unabashed hope for me. The next eleven have been terrifying, and it is only the grace of God that has carried me through each one, no matter how many weeks I held each baby in my womb. Three of my rainbow babies have made it full term, whole and healthy! What miracles! What joys! What months of prayers! There are so many times during pregnancy—especially particularly anxiety-filled times like sitting in doctors’ waiting rooms or staring at the phone just wondering when it will ring so I can find out blood test results—where I feel speechless, even in my prayers. The prayers found in Scripture, where I can speak or sing God’s words back to Him, asking for His mercies, repeating His glories, claiming truths that I know yet need to know deeper—those are the prayers that I cling to, often and particularly. So today, as I fall on my knees and bow my head before our heavenly Father, would you come with me? Would you join me in praying Psalms and other Scriptures for the lives of babies who are snuggling into warm wombs of mothers whose hearts have been broken, who are clinging to the hopes of expecting a baby… while fighting anxiety and doubt… while seeking God’s will and asking for His best… but honestly knowing that we do not know the outcome or what “God’s best” may be this time.
Please pray with me, personalizing this prayer as the Lord leads—and if you are one of my sisters in Christ who has suffered the particular grief of bereavement, now facing the particularly bittersweet joy of subsequent pregnancy, these prayers are for you and for your baby.

O God our Father who lives and reigns in heaven, You are holy and glorious, faithful and merciful. Please listen as we Your servants come before You to plead for Your mercy. Please shine the brightness of Yourself in our dark and desolate places! Incline Your ear to hear us! Open Your eyes toward us! Because of Your great mercy, not due to any righteousness in ourselves, we come to Your feet and seek Your attention, Your actions, Your interventions. We are Yours, God, called by the name of Your Son Jesus Christ, and we ask You not to delay but to act swiftly for the sake of Your own glory! (Daniel 9:17-19)

Our hearts rejoice in You, and You exalt us, O Lord. We rejoice in Your salvation so that we can even scoff at our doubts and anxieties. (1 Samuel 2:1) Having buried children in our past, we come to You humbled that You would give us renewed hope and the balm of another child nestling into wombs that have felt so broken and so empty. We magnify You and rejoice in You greatly, because You have indeed looked with mercy upon our place of humble grief—indeed, we are blessed, and want to proclaim to all generations how holy and faithful You are! Your mercy is great, from generation to generation who fear You: You are holy! (Luke 1:46-50) Thank You for looking upon our downtrodden faces and hearing our desperate cries, for creating life in our wombs. Thank You for fearfully and wonderfully knitting together children within us—for showing us with these tangible realities how truly wonderful and marvelous Your works are. Oh Father, how terrifying it is to feel so close to this baby yet so out of control and far away! Thank You for reassuring us that You have numbered the days of our children, have written them down, that You can see inside the dark secret chambers of our bodies that are unknown even to us. Thank You for intricately weaving the tapestry of each child—thank You for building bones, sewing sinews, commanding heartbeats, tenderly stitching flesh, carefully creating each little detail of our children’s frames, breathing souls into them. (Psalm 139:13-16) Please continue this great craft that You are fashioning—please grant continued life, growth, and faith. We cry to You, O Lord: please have mercy upon us. Please keep death and sorrow far from us. Our souls are cast down with fear and anxiety, full of turmoil. Give us hope in You: cause us to praise You, for You are our Salvation, our God! (Psalm 42:11) Be our Helper, send Your sweet mercies—we will praise You, we will tell of Your faithfulness. With the new life You knit inside us, You have turned mourning into dancing—You take our garments of sorrow and give us the clothing of gladness! God of all creation, may we glorify You in this wondrous work of new life, may we sing Your praises and never be silent, may we give thanks to You forever. (Psalm 30:8-12)

As we continue going forward each day, giving our anxieties to You and declaring our hopes to You, cause us to tell everyone of Your blessings toward us as You deliver us from the deepest anguish of grief—keep us from restraining our lips. Enable us to proclaim Your faithfulness, Your salvation, Your love, Your deliverance! Give us the hope and confidence in You that we need to tell everyone about Your great works, and give us the humility to ask others to join us in prayer. Grant that we all would rejoice and be glad in You, love Your salvation, and proclaim Your greatness. Thank You for taking thought of us in our humble place—thank You for being our Help and Deliverer! Do not delay in granting us Your peace, health, hope, and joy. (Psalm 40:9-10, 16-17) God in heaven, we are bold to ask: grant life! Grant living babies to us so that we can praise You yet again, and in new ways.

We rejoice in You, our Father, and take joy in You—You have saved our souls, and that is just one more reason for praising You amidst our current uncertainties and joys—You have power over life and death and resurrection. You are our strength, and we ask You to make our feet like the feet of deer, allow us to dance on the high mountains! (Habakkuk 3:18-19) Christ, You dwell in our hearts through faith: root us, ground us, give us comprehension—so that even when we are fearful for our future, worried for the life of our child, we would know the immensity of Your love and be filled with God’s fullness. You, indeed, are the One that is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we could ask or think! To You alone, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, be all glories for all generations—including the glory of the generation in our wombs. (Ephesians 3:17-21) Your steadfast love is better than life, and we praise You with our mouths, even through this time of prayer: we will continue to bless You as long as we live, lifting our hands in Your name. (Psalm 63:3-4) For Yours is the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory forever and ever. Amen.

© Melissa Joy, 2014

Written originally for Mommies With Hope, Melissa Joy seeks to grow in grace and wisdom alongside her husband Steven, while pursuing joyful domesticity by nurturing her home and family. The blessing of motherhood and the blessing of growth in Christ have intersected in a beautiful and challenging way for her, as she embraces being Mommy to twelve beloved children: 3 in her arms, 9 in the heavenly choir. The joy she finds in her family, homemaking, music, writing, ministering to those in grief, and seeking to be a pillar of loving strength in her home can be seen unveiled at Joyful Domesticity.

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Prayer of Psalmody ~ in grief

 

Hear my prayer, O Lord; give ear to my pleas for mercy!
In Your faithfulness answer me in Your righteousness!
Psalm 143:1 (ESV)

The book of Psalms is often referred to as the songbook of Scripture, but it is also a prayer book. So would you join me in praying some psalms today as we grieve and yearn and seek God’s face of mercy together? Let’s use the psalms today as our skeleton for prayer, and ask God to hear us as we gather together from various places at various times, but with one mind and one purpose—seeking His favor while glorifying Him even as we fall at His feet in tears of grief and longing. Please pray with me, interjecting your own specific requests as we go along.

Our Father in the glories of heaven, we ask that Your holy name would be honored and glorified as we fall at Your feet. (Matthew 6:9)

Oh Father, we are crying out to You with our voice—to God with the voices You gave us. Please give Your ear to us! We are in days of trouble, and we are seeking You, Lord. The night feels endless, and our souls ache with discomfort. We feel so troubled, even when we remember You and Your sovereignty—it is overwhelming and we need to pour out our anguish before You. (Psalm 77:1-3) Have you cast us off forever? Will Your favor ever return to us? Where did Your mercy go? We know You are faithful, yet did Your promises fail? Where is Your grace? Have You forgotten me? Are You angry at me? Have You put away Your mercy? Oh God, this is my anguish—my fears, my doubts, my pain. But indeed, You have been faithful: I remember the things You have done, for me and for others, now and in the past. Please help us to meditate on Your works, to praise You as we talk of the things You have done. (Psalm 77:10-13) You are our shield, our glory, the One who lifts our head. We are crying to You with our voice, and we ask You to hear us from Your holy hill. Arise, O Lord! Save us, oh our God! Death is our enemy, and we know that You have victory over death and the grave—salvation belongs to You, and we believe in the resurrection, Lord. Please let us see that Your blessing is on Your people—even us, our wombs, our children. (Psalm 3:3-4, 7-8)

You are our Shepherd. Because of You, we do not want for anything—You give us all that we need, food and drink, protection and even delight. You restore our souls, even through the aching grief. Continue to lead us in paths of righteousness for the sake of Your name. But Father, do You see us? We are walking through the valley of the shadow of death! It is so dark in this shadowy valley. Please remind us to fear no evil—even here—because You are with us. Please comfort us with Your rod and Your staff: directing, leading, carrying, tenderly showing us the way through this valley. (Psalm 23:1-4) Deliver us, cover us, be our refuge; gird us with Your truth as our armor for defense and protection. The Lord is our refuge: be our dwelling place so evil and harm will be kept far from us. Keep us in all our ways—whether grieving or rejoicing—reminding us that Your angels keep charge over us. Bear us up, keep us safe: deliver us because we love You, pick us up out of the dust back to the high places because we know Your name. We call to You! Answer us! We are in trouble, Lord God—please be with us, deliver us, and honor us for the sake of Your glory. (Psalm 91:3-4, 9-15)

Oh Lord, our dwelling place, teach us to number our days so that we would be wise in heart. Grant us Your wisdom. How long until we feel Your mercy return to us, O Lord? We, Your servants, seek Your compassion! We want to rejoice, we long to be glad all our days! Please come and satisfy our empty places with Your mercy. We have spent years in affliction, suffering the awful effects of evil and sin—burdened by death. Please restore gladness to us, in the wake of this affliction. Show us Your work! Give us children so that we can show them Your glory! Oh God, pour out Your beauty upon us, by establishing the work of our hands. Great King and Creator of all life, yes, establish the work of our hands! (Psalm 90:12-17)

Father, I implore Your grace on behalf of so many sisters who are suffering: please, grant them the desires of their hearts, as they glorify You, and fulfil their plans, as they align with Your will. (Psalm 20:4) As we kneel here at Your feet, please hear our cries for the sake of our Savior Jesus Christ, Your Son who was Himself the Man of Sorrows and acquainted with grief, because it is in His holy name that we pray these things. Greatness, power, glory, victory, and majesty are Yours and the power and the glory and the victory and the majesty, for all that is in the heavens and in the earth is Yours; thank You for hearing our prayers, Head of all creation. (1 Chronicles 29:11) For Yours is the Kingdom, the Power, and the Glory forever and ever. Amen.

 

© Melissa Joy, 2014

Written originally for Mommies With Hope, Melissa Joy seeks to grow in grace and wisdom alongside her husband Steven, while pursuing joyful domesticity by nurturing her home and family. The blessing of motherhood and the blessing of growth in Christ have intersected in a beautiful and challenging way for her, as she embraces being Mommy to twelve beloved children: 3 in her arms, 9 in the heavenly choir. The joy she finds in her family, homemaking, music, writing, ministering to those in grief, and seeking to be a pillar of loving strength in her home can be seen unveiled at Joyful Domesticity.

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don’t miss the morning cuddles

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What if you missed hearing the best part of your child’s day because you were on the phone? What if you missed a chance to inhale the sweet scent of your energetic child because you insisted on folding that basket of laundry before bedtime? What if you missed a chance to console your worried spouse because of your mile-long to-do list? What if you missed hearing an unknown childhood memory from your aging parent because you were too busy to call? What if you missed a divine cloud formation in the sky because you were racing to the bank, the post office, and the dry cleaner before you had to pick up the kids? What if one day you realized that all the opportunities you missed couldn’t be retrieved? But it was already too late. What if one day you realized the best moments in life come in the mundane, everyday moments? But you were only fully present on special occasions. What if, instead of rushing through the minutiae of your daily life, you occasionally paused and offered your presence? What if you turned away from the distractions that monopolize your time and attention and grasped the sacred moments passing you by? Turn off the music in the car. Sit next to your child as she plays. Lie in bed with her after you say goodnight. Hug her and don’t let go right away. Tell her something you have been meaning to say. Bend down and look her in the eye when she talks to you. Do these things and see what might unfold. And once the moment is over, reflect back on that moment and realize this painful truth: If I had not paused, that precious moment is what I would have missed.
~Rachel Macy Stafford, Hands Free Mama, p21

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oh, spaetzle!

It was spaetzle that brought me to my senses. Spaetzle, if you do not know, are the very flower of all foods made with flour. They are tiny bits of soft noodle dough, boiled to a light and lovely perfection, and served with butter or gravy. It took only one taste of my wife’s first batch to make me realize that I could not go on as a dieter. Spaetzle exude substantiality: A man who takes a small helping is a man without eyes to see what is in front of him. Accordingly, I passed my plate back for seconds and then thirds, and made a vow then and there to walk more, to split logs every day and, above all to change my religion from the devilish cult of dieting to the godly discipline of fasting.
~Robert Farrar Capon, The Supper of the Lamb: a Culinary Reflection, p114~

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To eat nothing at all is more human than to take a little of what cries out for the appetite of a giant. One servingspoonful of spaetzle is like the opening measures of Vivaldi’s Four Seasons: any man who walks out early on either proves he doesn’t understand the genre—and he misses the repose of the end. To eat without eating greatly is only to eat by halves.
~Robert Farrar Capon, The Supper of the Lamb: a Culinary Reflection, p114~

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Life is so much more than occasions, and its grand ordinariness must never go unsavored.
~Robert Farrar Capon, The Supper of the Lamb: a Culinary Reflection, p27~

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(…and yes, my mother made me some of my very favorite things in gluten free versions!
like schnitzel and spaetzle and peanut butter cream pie!!

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To Pray

 

…Lord, teach us to pray…
Luke 11:1 (ESV)

I went jogging in the peaceful coolness of the early morning. The sun was shining through the trees, the breeze was hitting my face, my ears were filled with sounds of morning songbirds, crowing roosters, bawling cows, and crunching gravel beneath my feet. I don’t like exercising, but I do like being fit—and I like having solitary time to focus my thoughts and tune my heart to God, His creation, His Word. Sometimes I sing psalms while I exercise, sometimes I pray, sometimes I simply weep and trust that the Spirit intercedes for me even when I am speechless.

I love to pray, to commune with my Father—and I’ve been doing it for my entire life. Conversing with Him is as natural as conversing with my earthly father, for I have known both of them that long. But there are times when I don’t really know what to say to my dad, or don’t need to say anything to be heard. Sometimes we just catch each other’s eyes and know the meaning behind it, deep in the other’s heart. Sometimes it is sob-filled, teary phone calls where I’m certain my words are somewhat incoherent, but I need to say them, and he is the one I want to hear them. Sometimes we have long conversations, giving and taking in the banter equally. And sometimes I am so at a loss for words, for whatever reason, that I just don’t even want to begin the conversation.

And I find that my conversations with God parallel these things.

Just a month ago, my morning prayers were filled with almost senseless begging, pleading to God with repetitive requests and endless questions, desperately wondering what He was doing, why I had to suffer this way, practically asking to wrestle blessings from His hands. If you had been listening in, the refrain would have sounded a lot like, “please God! Oh please God! Please, God, just… oh please!” My heart filled in the rest and my tears were the chorus. I could almost sense the robins, the deer, and the squirrels hushing—I imagined it was because the Lord knew the sacredness of this conversation with Him where I was so helpless, and even His woodland creatures hushed their breath and stilled their actions as I jogged by so I could cry and He could listen. This morning, as my feet carried me forward, my heart cried to my Father again. Today was one of the more eloquent days, with fully formed sentences and coherent requests, littered with lists of thanks for His graces, and I honestly sought Him on behalf of others rather than on behalf of myself.

The Lord is with me in all of these things. He hears me in each of these situations, and every one in between. He hears me when I plead with Him on the ultrasound table, He sees me rip out my hair while I wail in grief in an exam room, He bottles my tears in the bathroom over negative pregnancy tests, He embraces my body and soul as I grieve over death and as I expectantly long for reunions in heaven. He hears me on  behalf of my suffering friends and my grieving family members.

As I continue to grow in my relationship with my Heavenly Father, I want to deepen my understanding of prayer, enrich my conversations with Him, and learn how to glorify Him with my praise, my requests, my stutters, my tears, my shouts of joy, my cries of anguish. I often sing the Lord’s Prayer, and then take each of the six petitions therein, expounding upon one at a time in spoken prayer, filling out the shape of what Jesus exemplified for us. I often also use the book of psalms to help shape my prayers. I want to embrace asking for God’s will to be done with my whole heart and entire mind. In Matthew 26, Jesus Himself cried out to God as He anticipated His own crucifixion, “My Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not as I will, but as you will” (ESV). It is perfectly honorable to follow the example of Christ, and ask the Lord to take this bitter cup of suffering from me—and, trust me, I do that regularly! I’m nigh well sick of the recurrent pregnancy loss journey, and He hears about it from my lips often enough. But even when I ask Him to take away miscarriage from me, when I beg Him to grant us living children, when I come to Him asking for wisdom in pursuing medical avenues and uncovering health complication—even in the midst of those requests—I want to prefer His will over mine. Sometimes I just plain ask Him, “give me the desire to prefer Your will, because honestly, I don’t understand how this plan is better than what I asked of You!” I ask Him to grow me up into His will, into loving His will, into desiring His will, into embracing His will.

So as I continue seeking God’s face in the mornings—as I quiet my soul before Him while the body He gave me exercises in the midst of the nature He placed around me, presenting not only my words but also my body before Him—may He teach me how to speak with Him, glorify Him, make requests of Him, and live fully in communion with Him—not because I want to get things from Him, but because I want Him—and I desire to learn from Him how to pray so that I can get more of Him.

 

© Melissa Joy, 2014

Written originally for Mommies With Hope, Melissa Joy seeks to grow in grace and wisdom alongside her husband Steven, while pursuing joyful domesticity by nurturing her home and family. The blessing of motherhood and the blessing of growth in Christ have intersected in a beautiful and challenging way for her, as she embraces being Mommy to twelve beloved children: 3 in her arms, 9 in the heavenly choir. The joy she finds in her family, homemaking, music, writing, ministering to those in grief, and seeking to be a pillar of loving strength in her home can be seen unveiled at Joyful Domesticity.