Nothing comes easily.
You have to lose things you thought you loved,
give up things you thought you needed.
You have to get over yourself,
beyond your past,
out from under the weight of your future.
The good stuff never comes when things are easy.
It comes when things are all heavily weighted down like moving trucks.
~Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines, p179~
Any way you cut it, motherhood is intimidating…
moms might not know it, but they are the bravest of the brave…
and perhaps what makes this kind of everyday courage the most remarkable
is how very seldom it gets recognized.
~Lisa-Jo Baker, Surprised By Motherhood, p93~
Vacations are more than vacations,
and that island is more than an island.
Vacations are the act of grabbing
minutes and hours and days with both hands,
stealing against the inevitability of time.
There will be a day when our family as we know it will no longer exist,
and I want to know in that moment that I wasn’t at the office or doing the dishes
when I could have been walking on the dock with my dad,
when I could have been drinking tea and eating ginger cookies on the porch with my mom.
~Shauna Niequist, Cold Tangerines, p45~
We are always to do our best,
striving to be obedient
and to love, nurture, and discipline them.
But we are to do it with faith in the Lord’s ability to transform hearts,
not in our ability to be consistent or faithful.
~Elyse Fitzpatrick & Jessica Thompson, Give Them Grace, p53~
This year, we went out of our way to do a few more hands-on lessons and Easter preparations with the children. The older they get, of course the more they grasp ~ and it is delightful to hear their own 6, 3, and 2 year old sized insights into why we do the things we do.
On Good Friday, rather than doing our normal homeschooling routine, while the little ones had individual room time (learning to play on their own for a solid hour is a good skill to learn), Gabriel helped me clean the house. We washed windows, cleaned bathrooms, swept floors, mopped floors, did laundry, washed dishes, wiped down cupboards. And while we worked together, we talked about why we were working so hard, and why is this what we chose to do on Good Friday. When I asked Gabriel what he thought, he paused in thought, then profoundly said, “Well, today is the day we remember the whole reason why Jesus came. He came to clean our hearts. So I guess that’s why we should clean our home.” I wanted to just stop the conversation right there, and leave it at that ~ because my kid gets SO much of the Gospel story, and I love hearing his perspective on it. It’s beautiful. But we went on to talk about how Jesus served others, even though He was King of all. We talked about “our people” ~ and who are our neighbors. Gabriel even asked if he could wash my feet when we were done cleaning, because he wanted to bless me and serve me like Jesus.
But I hate to admit, I forgot about the feet-washing, because by the time we were done cleaning the house, the little ones were ready to be done with solitary playtime, and we needed to move on to the phase of dirtying things back up again. Funny how we do that in my line of work: we clean things up so we can make them dirty again!
So after a little lunch, Evangeline was ready for a nap, and the boys & I got out supplies for some crafts that would hold more lessons.
We had already dyed Easter eggs with Grandmama, Auntie, and cousins, complete with super sweet and thoughtful conversations about the metaphors, symbolism, and just plain fun of the tradition. My children and I have talked numerous times this week about the symbolism we can see in the eggs… how they symbolize the rock which closed the tomb, but new life can spring forth from it… how we can take plain eggs and give them new clothing, as we do when we take on new life in Christ… how the yolk in a cracked egg can symbolize the glorious light of Jesus’ resurrection from the dark tomb when He burst forth in glorious array…
Click here to read about Easter Egg traditions throughout the life of the Church, following the Lenten season. Even plain old Wikipedia had some great thought-provoking things about Easter Eggs, or Paschal Eggs. And for some fun nuances on Easter Egg traditions, click here and have some fun with the kids in your life.
Romans 6:4
We were buried therefore with Him by baptism into death,
in order that, just as Christ was raised from the dead
by the glory of the Father,
we too might walk in newness of life.
Thanks to Ann Voskamp’s diligent sharing each and every year, I finally felt like my boys were old enough this year to really grasp & enjoy a couple more unique & detailed hands-on projects.
First we had a snack of nuts and figs, while we made a crown of thorns (using a small grapevine wreath and a few dozen coffee-stained toothpicks) and talked a lot about the events of Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. Three year old Asher was nearly in tears (I love how his forehead crinkles and his chin quivers when he feels genuine sorrow), talking about Jesus being tortured, bleeding, and dying. He finally smiled again when I reminded Him that this was why Jesus came, and this is how He worked to save US from OUR sins. And in his sweet little voice, Asher proclaimed, “I sure love Jesus, Mommy.”
Matthew 27:29
…twisting together a crown of thorns, they put it on His head…Mark 15:17
…twisting together a crown of thorns, they put it on Him.John 19:2, 5
And the soldiers twisted together a crown of thorns and put it on His head and arrayed Him in a purple robe. So Jesus came out, wearing the crown of thorns and the purple robe.
Next we went out on to the back porch and put together our own little Gethsemane. Using a small moss planter (I used this, and don’t let the word “large” fool you!), we filled it with soil. Then we set our tomb carved in the rock in the corner of the garden (I found that aquarium accessories could offer some neat options, like this cichlid stone), before filling the rest of the garden with plants. We used some little succulents we got at a local store along with some pretty decorative moss, and then Gabriel used small smooth stones to make a little pathway through the garden to the tomb. Last of all, the boys went on a stone hunt outside to find something that would serve as a tomb cover.
John 19:41
Now in the place where He was crucified there was a garden, and in the garden a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid.Luke 23:55-56
The women who had come with Him from Galilee followed and saw the tomb and how His body was laid.Then they returned and prepared spices and ointments. On the Sabbath they rested according to the commandment.
On Good Friday, we used last week’s palm branches and our homemade crown of thorns to decorate our dinner table, when we ate lamb and roasted vegetables and matzo ball soup, along with the Seder plate with all its elements and plenty of wine.
Our kitchen island was cleared of all other decorations, and that is where we laid our own little Gethsemane. On Friday evening we closed up the tomb. On Saturday morning we found a little soldier to keep guard outside the tomb. And the children looked forward to seeing what would come of it on Sunday morning.
Matthew 27:59-60, 66
And Joseph took the body and wrapped it in a clean linen shroud and laid it in his own new tomb, which he had cut in the rock. And he rolled a great stone to the entrance of the tomb and went away. … So they went and made the tomb secure by sealing the stone and setting a guard.
Come Sunday morning, the children came downstairs to find the guard fallen down, the stone moved away, and a piece of linen folded inside the tomb.
Matthew 28:2-8
And behold, there was a great earthquake, for an angel of the Lord descended from heaven and came and rolled back the stone and sat on it.His appearance was like lightning, and his clothing white as snow.And for fear of him the guards trembled and became like dead men.But the angel said to the women, “Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified.He is not here, for He has risen, as He said. Come, see the place where He lay.Then go quickly and tell His disciples that He has risen from the dead, and behold, He is going before you to Galilee; there you will see Him. See, I have told you.”So they departed quickly from the tomb with fear and great joy, and ran to tell His disciples.Luke 24:1-12
…On the first day of the week, at early dawn, they went to the tomb, taking the spices they had prepared. And they found the stone rolled away from the tomb,but when they went in they did not find the body of the Lord Jesus.While they were perplexed about this, behold, two men stood by them in dazzling apparel.And as they were frightened and bowed their faces to the ground, the men said to them, “Why do you seek the living among the dead?He is not here, but has risen. Remember how He told you, while He was still in Galilee,that the Son of Man must be delivered into the hands of sinful men and be crucified and on the third day rise.”And they remembered His words,and returning from the tomb they told all these things to the eleven and to all the rest.Now it was Mary Magdalene and Joanna and Mary the mother of James and the other women with them who told these things to the apostles,but these words seemed to them an idle tale, and they did not believe them.But Peter rose and ran to the tomb; stooping and looking in, he saw the linen cloths by themselves; and he went home marveling at what had happened.
They found a table set for a beautiful little breakfast. Fruit salad, hard boiled eggs with sea salt, mimosas, Easter story cookies, and Easter tomb rolls (the kids had helped me make those all on Saturday, which was really wonderful). Candles and music and the excited rush of gathering and eating and praising God together, singing Christ The Lord Is Risen Today. Gifts for each one at their place ~ books and chocolates.
Once the morning feasting was done, it came time to don our Easter clothing (clothing is hugely metaphorical and meaningful in Scripture and the history of the Church) ~ even the Easter sermon mentioned this, because we had three baptisms during the service and these Scriptures were emphasized.
Ephesians 4:17-24
Now this I say and testify in the Lord, that you must no longer walk as the Gentiles do, in the futility of their minds.They are darkened in their understanding, alienated from the life of God because of the ignorance that is in them, due to their hardness of heart.They have become callous and have given themselves up to sensuality, greedy to practice every kind of impurity. But that is not the way you learned Christ!—assuming that you have heard about Him and were taught in Him, as the truth is in Jesus,to put off your old self,which belongs to your former manner of life and is corrupt through deceitful desires, and to be renewed in the spirit of your minds,and to put on the new self, created after the likeness of God in true righteousness and holiness.Colossians 3:12-17
Put on then, as God’s chosen ones, holy and beloved, compassionate hearts, kindness, humility, meekness, and patience,bearing with one another and, if one has a complaint against another, forgiving each other; as the Lord has forgiven you, so you also must forgive.And above all these put on love, which binds everything together in perfect harmony.And let the peace of Christ rule in your hearts, to which indeed you were called in one body. And be thankful.Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God.And whatever you do, in word or deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.Galatians 3:27
For as many of you as were baptized into Christ have put on Christ.
And so we got dressed in new matchy-matchy clothes (and my heart ached in all the heaviest and bestest of ways, because I have been given a family to clothe, and children who can wear sickeningly matchy outfits!), and talked about putting on Christ, putting off our old selves, putting on the new self in newness of life and the beauty of holiness, putting on love above all other things.
And then? Then the party really started. Gabriel pointed out, “there sure is a lot of joy around church and everywhere today!” and I couldn’t help but laugh. Because isn’t that just exactly, precisely the way it should be?! May the joy of the gospel, and of the Resurrected Christ, and of the hope He has given His people, shed forth from your homes, your families, your churches, and your wanderings until He comes again and everything is made new and all is set right.
To the glory of the Father, amen. Allelulia!
Though the fig tree does not blossom,
and no fruit is on the vines;
though the produce of the olive fails,
and the fields yield no food;
though the flock is cut off from the fold,
and there is no herd in the stalls,
yet I will rejoice in the Lord;
I will exult in the God of my salvation.
God, the Lord, is my strength;
He makes my feet like the feet of a deer,
and makes me tread upon the heights.
Habakkuk 3:17-19
I know this passage. I know it well. I have memorized it. I have memorized a couple different song versions of it. I have sung it in church before. I have clung to it through years of trying to have a baby but finding the blossoms & the fruit failing. I have used it as a frequent reminder that regardless of my physical situation, my soul’s stability remains unshaken — my joy and my strength being grounded in the One who created the mountains and the trees and the animals, storylines and climaxes and rainclouds, life and laughter and suffering and me.
But until last week, I don’t think I had ever gone to the length of putting my own fears, my own troubles, my own sufferings and shadows and dark corners by the means of words into this form.
“Though the _________________________________________________ and there are no ___________________________, though the ___________________________________________ fails and the ___________________________ produces no ___________________________________, though there are no ________________________________________ in the __________________________________ and no __________________________________ in the ____________________________, yet I will rejoice in the Lord….”
So when Mr. Palpant suggested, at our final Lenten lecture meeting last Wednesday, that we fill in these blanks according to the story we are each currently living, I might have (okay, I did) melted into a puddle of weeping at the table in the back of the room. Boy, did it ever hit home. In good, painfully sharp & cutting to the bones, Christ-be-with-me kinds of ways.
In your own path of suffering, of doubt fighting with hope, of walking with the Lord on the heights as well as in the valleys, passing by both sunshine and dark shadows ~ what would your own version of Habakkuk 3:17-19 look like?
This is what I came up with that night, and what the Lord has challenged me to claim with joyful confidence rather than with fear every day since.
Though the miscarriages continue to come and there are no more living children for my arms to hold, though the medical treatments and the prayers for life fail and the pregnancies God puts in my womb produce no more little redheads to nurse on my breasts, though there are no end to the longing in my heart for my family to grow in the home God has given us here on His earth and no more siblings for our children who beseech the Lord for babies in the beauty of their own childlike faith, yet I will rejoice in the Lord; I will exult in the God of my salvation. God, the Lord, is my strength; He makes my feet like the feet of a deer, and makes me tread upon the heights.
Women see children with different eyes than husbands do.
~Lisa-Jo Baker, Surprised By Motherhood, p132~
I sneak into your room while you nap, tiptoe gently across your rug, peer into your crib. Precious little limp body, resting so peacefully and sweetly. Blankie nearby, left thumb in your mouth ~ just the way you like it. Porcelain skin with rosy hues, the nightlight-lit room is dim and you look like a palette of creams and peaches and pinks, with your coppery hair lying all glossy and straight at the top. I smooth a stray wisp behind your ear so I can have a clear view of your eyelid. I love to kiss those soft little lids. Your eyebrows perfect little rainbows above the raindrop-blue eyes that flutter about in dreamland. What dreams do you see behind those eyelids? I can only imagine what you see, while I stand here looking at you in a hush, slowing my breathing with yours, until I feel as restful as you seem. Over the hum of your little room fan, I swear I can hear your heart beating ~ that heart that once beat underneath mine, and that now continues to make mine dance to a different rhythm.
Psalm 4:8
In peace I will both lie down and sleep;
for you alone, O Lord, make me dwell in safety.
Little ear. I trace my finger along its roads. It is perfect. Kissable. I think of all the secrets I have whispered in there, and can not begin to imagine all the secrets that it will yet hear throughout the remainder of your life. Button nose, with your fist’s fingers curled just ever so slightly over the round of the button. Just like I used to do. Dimpled chin beneath perfect rosebud lips. Dimpled fingers. Sticky fingers, stray bits of strawberries left over from lunch under your fingernails. You set your bed up just so every time you are put to bed. Blankie and blanket ~ and you especially like the elephant quilt on which your head now rests. You lined up your babies and your animals at the other end of the bed today, but sometimes they are lined up directly with you, some on your one side and some on your other. They all have names, and sometimes I hear you say nigh-night to them and tuck them in by name: Puppy, Bunny, Pink Bunny, Anne, Bea, and occasionally Doggie and Lolly too. You often insist on having a stacks of “gooks” in there to read to your babies before you snuggle down for sleep. Today was one of the days where you needed to have your purse with you ~ stocked with a baby bottle and yellow sunglasses. You are my sunshine. You feed my soul.
Proverbs 3:24
If you lie down, you will not be afraid;
when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet.
In this sacred little place, I can hold onto the very last vestiges of your babyhood. Blankie. Thumb in your mouth. Crib. Diapered bum. It isn’t even so much the peaceful stillness of watching you sleep that holds me here in a trance, but the simple joys that these vestiges give me. It makes me think of the song I danced to with my daddy at my wedding: I’ll always be your baby. And I wonder if sometimes when my parents look at me, they can still blink and see me in the back of their eyelids, holding my buppy and sucking my thumb and sleeping in the safe haven of a baby’s crib. You grow up too fast, my little doll. Time somehow slows down while you sleep, and I want nothing more than to stand here drinking in these slow moments, memorizing them, loving them. Loving you. Loving being your mommy, and you my baby. I take a step backward and breathe in a big sigh. It is as though I remember your entire past and envision your entire future while I stand here. I will never tire of watching you sleep. When you are grown and snuggling your own child, if you fall asleep, I will walk in and watch you, and I will see you in the back of my eyelids just as you are here today. Dimpled, porcelain, rosy, coppertopped, limp, surrounded by little things that bring you big joys, peacefully breathing in and out the gloriousness that is the grace of life.
I back out slowly from your room, blowing you kisses, blessing you with heard yet unspoken prayers. Sleep, my sweet princess, snuggled deep into tranquil coziness. Be filled to the brim with rest until you overflow with so much life your thumb pops out and your eyes pop open, and you gather up your armful of pleasant things to call out for me to pick you up and set you on the path of energetic life once again.
Psalm 127:2
…He gives to His beloved sleep.
As for my dear friends and me,
our hearts are full, of course,
but also a little tender, bruised, tired.
Motherhood and the journey toward it,
has battered us a little bit, each in our own ways.
From ambivalence to longing to loss,
from the anger that our bodies won’t do what we want them to,
to the consuming, crushing love for a baby that is just hanging on.
From the emptiness every month
over and over,
to the physical brokenness of our bodies,
to the deep questions—When? When? When? Why? Why not?
~ Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet, p151~
Motherhood has rumbled over us like a freight train,
rendering us in some moments out of control and humbled,
positions we’re not accustomed to.
We’re get-it-done women.
We’ve handled everything, all the time, all at the same time.
We’ve made lists and plans and back-up plans.
And motherhood laughed at our plans,
twisted up our expectations,
and gave them back to us upside down,
covered with blood and stretch marks and Goldfish cracker paste.
~ Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet, p151~
Gabriel made muffins by himself for the first time last week, complete with doubling the recipe which meant adding fractions.
I love how he wears my childhood apron, and how he made himself a chef’s hat to complete the uniform.
Asher and Evangeline continue to delight in chopping veggies and herbs for dinner prep, measuring grains and water into pots, and wiping counters & setting tables.
These little people are positively a delight. And goodness! they are becoming downright helpful, too. 🙂 Have I mentioned how all three of them clamor for a turn at emptying the dishwasher?! 😀
…Above all you shall keep My Sabbaths, for this is a sign between me and you throughout your generations, that you may know that I, the Lord, sanctify you. You shall keep the Sabbath, because it is holy for you… a Sabbath of solemn rest, holy to the Lord… It is a sign forever between Me and the people of Israel that in six days the Lord made heaven and earth, and on the seventh day He rested and was refreshed.
Exodus 31:13-17
Around here, we love Sundays. We love the routines it carries, the rest it brings. It is an anchor for our week, the most predictable day of all.
A Sunday here is typically quite simple in structure yet profound in what it represents. Rest is indisputably delightful, in its various manifestations and representations! All five of us cling to the joy of resting on the Lord’s Day. We go to bed earlier than normal on Saturdays so we are well rested—in order to be prepared for the day of rest! (What could be more wonderful preparation than that?!) We have some of our best & favorite foods and wear some of our best & favorite clothes. We go to church to worship the King and be with His people. One of my favorite things about Sundays, personally, is how we covenantally ascend into heaven (just read Hebrews 12 for yourself) during corporate worship, because it makes me feel so intimately close with my nine babies in heaven. We commune through bread and wine with the Lord and with one another. We sing and pray, pass the peace of Christ to one another and find ways to shower grace upon each other, share conversation and fellowship and food and handshakes or hugs. While sometimes Sundays include hospitality, family parties and meals at the grandparents’ house, or spending hours with friends, we do sincerely love Sunday afternoons that offer us quiet hours at home—not to fret over schoolwork and house projects and cleaning nooks & crannies, but to play together and rest together. We love enjoying God’s creation on His day, from many vantage points and in varied ways. We have a special family tradition on Sunday evenings of eating goodies and doing something fun—for this current season of our little family’s life, it usually looks like eating popcorn & ice cream while snuggling & watching movies. After kids are tucked in their beds, it also means date night for my husband & me—with wine, chocolate, cheese, and sometimes a movie just for us.
Sundays—the Lord’s Day—our Sabbath—is a foretaste of heavenly rest, and a recurrent (utterly joyful and blessed!) reminder that our hardworking life should be predictably punctuated by worship and delight. And it isn’t just because in our human frailty we need a break from the six other days where we run around working hard, being as productive as we can manage, and having an undercurrent of diligent & dedicated labors. It is, after all, a good reminder that God did not rest on the seventh day of creation because He was exhausted. He rested to delight in His work.
God did not rest because He was tired.
He rested so that those made in His image
would share in His rest through worship.
He rested so that He could turn Adam and Eve’s attention
from the creation to the Creator.
In a sense, God was saying to Adam and Eve and all humanity,
“Come and rest in who I am and what I have accomplished.
Enjoy with me the goodness of all I have made.”
This was to establish a rhythm of
engagement with the world through work
and then thankful enjoyment of the world through worship.
~Nancy Guthrie, The Promised One, p45~
Some Sundays are more placid than others. Sometimes our resting is kind of… well… flat out energetic and lively and noisy or busy enough to even border on chaotic.
In fact, at this very moment—while I might be reclining on a comfy bed with a cozy comforter snuggled on top of me and a cup of tea within reach—I have an excessively wiggly and noisy two year old girl going up and down, up and down, up and down… screaming and giggling and babbling, trying to grab at the computer keys or spill my tea cup… while a video booms with bright images and loud soundtrack in a corner of the room and children carry on with continual commentary, occasionally interspersing requests for a water bottle, popcorn or ice cream refill, or simply expressing utter delight in sharing goodies with one another on this special day of the week.
And this is after lots of lively fellowship & projects at Sunday school, loud singing during worship (although I must confess that the entire corporate worship service is beautifully rich and peaceful even in our busy pew), a boisterous lunch at a crowded Red Robin restaurant (mac & cheese, ketchup, and juicy orange segments seemed to get absolutely everywhere!), and a long chatterbox-filled 26-mile drive home.
But these in fact are some of the best ways that we see Christ, His goodness, His rest, His future hope—in the people He put around us, and especially those in our own home under our own discipleship. We turn our hearts to Him and tune our souls to His praise, resting in who He is, what He has done, and delightfully embracing these living temples where He lives right here among us—but sometimes the resting is clamorous and rollicking rather than quiet and what you might describe as serene.
But whichever way our Sabbath rest takes us on a given day, we delight in the gift of the Lord’s Day (Mark 2:27), knowing that the Lord accepts our worship, covers us with grace, and fills us up on this day that He has set aside for us (and in return, we set it aside for Him) so that we can once again go forth to labor for another six days in His creation before being called again to this sanctified day—this day where we enjoy all that God has made, and where we delight in six days of productivity and rest in enjoyment of His sweet grace in so many of its innumerable manifestations.
Serenity, silence, and solitude are good things.
God uses quietness to tune our heart to listen to Him through His Word.
Silence can help us pray without added distractions.
In the peacefulness of our surroundings,
the Lord can still our busy heart.
“Truly alone” time with the Lord is a gift.
But so are the times when you’re ringmastering your family circus.
The Lord is just as near to you when you’re
using a bulb sucker on a tiny, congested nose
and as you’re summoning the wisdom of Solomon
to settle a spat over a disputed toy.
~Gloria Furman, Treasuring Christ When Your Hands are Full, p72~
And now it’s clear that I need to move on to ringmastering my family circus down for the night… the three rings are busy and the tents are bouncing. I have a little girl here who can’t seem to decide whether she is a dancing poodle, a trapeze artist, or toy juggler—and it’s always fun to wrangle acrobats into their beds. So excuse me please while I go tuck these little God-images into their beds, and watch them drift into the rest of sleep as the rest from His day prepares them (and me!) for another six days of working the ground the Lord has put into our hands.
Blessed is everyone who fears the Lord,
who walks in His ways!
Your children will be like olive shoots around your table.
May you see your children’s children!
Psalm 128:1, 3, 6 (ESV)
Sisters in the Lord Jesus Christ, the ones specifically today who are raising the next generation for the Kingdom of God; how we need to recover and embrace the duty, the art, the service, the joy of praying for our children. No matter how old your children are, it is time to pray for them. And if there are children in your life who you do not mother, it is still a glorious privilege to bring them before our Father as well—so please join us in praying, even if you pray for the children of others. May we break forth in prayer to our Father in the vein of mothers like Hannah, like Mary, like Lois and Eunice. May He hear us and grant us our requests in accordance with His holy will. Please kneel with me and bow your hearts in prayer, as we pray together for our children.
Holy Father in Heaven, incline Your ear toward us, answer us in our need. Please hear us for the sake our children, who belong to You according to Your covenant promises. Please, Father, preserve our lives—we seek godliness in the light of Your glory, for You are our God and we trust You. We trust You for salvation and provision, O God. Be gracious to us, and hear our cries. Lift us up and give us gladness because of Your goodness, Your forgiveness, your steadfast love. Because of these things, Triune God, we plea for grace and ask you to hear our prayers. (Psalm 86:1-6) We pray for the sake of the children You have entrusted to us. May Your will be done.
Father, my children come from a line of Christians that have been faithful to Your covenant, like Timothy’s line through Eunice and Lois. You have put faith in the hearts of my children, and I ask You to fan that flame which is a gift of God. Please enable my children to embrace the spirit of power and love and self-control that You have given them. Give my children strength to share in the sufferings for the Gospel, for You have saved my children and called them to a holy calling, for Your own purpose and grace. Lord, give my children confidence in You, and allow them never to be ashamed of their testimony for Your Kingdom. (1 Timothy 1:5-9) You are in heaven, and You alone are the Holy One.
God, please give our children the grace and wisdom they need to keep the commandments of their father, give them stout faith and diligence so that they do not forsake the teaching of their mother. Please bind Your truth on the hearts of our children and tie them around their necks, keeping the commandments of righteousness ever before their eyes. Lord, cause these things to lead our children when they walk, to watch over our children when they lie down, and to speak Truth to our children when they wake. (Deuteronomy 6:20-22) Father, give our children graceful garlands for their heads and pendants for their necks, that are the instruction and teaching of their parents in godly fear and humble hearts. Use us as their parents to instruct and teach in godliness. Please give our children faithful dedication to the things they have been taught from Your Word so that they will flee from evil, run from temptation, and not consent to the enticement of sinners. (Proverbs 1:8-10) Please protect our children from the evils that surround them, for indeed we do not only battle against the physical things of a sinful world, but against the spiritual forces of evil and the hidden principalities of the devil. Please, O Lord our God, grant that our children would be equipped with Your armor, so that they will stand firm when facing evil. Oh Father, fasten upon our children the belt of truth, the breastplate of righteousness, the gospel of peace. Give our children the shield of faith, and use it in them to extinguish the flaming darts of the evil one. Put on their heads the helmet of salvation, put in their hands the sword of the Spirit. Give our children praying hearts, making them alert with perseverance, giving them mouths to boldly proclaim Your Gospel. (Ephesians 6:10-19) In this way, O Lord, further Your Kingdom here on earth as it is in heaven. Lead our children not into temptation, and deliver them from evil.
God of all wisdom, please grant wisdom to the hearts of our children. Direct them in Your way. Teach them discernment, giving them eyes to see folly for its emptiness. Give our children ears and hearts that are eager to heed the voice of their father and honor their mother. Please give our children a love of truth, so that they will seek wisdom, instruction, and understanding in all things. O God, give us the hearts of our children, and give them eyes to observe our walks with You, even as You mercifully grant us the grace we need to walk faithfully with You. Let us rejoice and be glad over children who are faithful and righteous. (Proverbs 23:19-26) Give us faith for what we do not yet see, and give us hope for the future, knowing that You hold it all. Enable us as parents not to provoke our children to anger, but give us humble dependence on You as we bring them up in Your paideia. Cause our children to honor and obey their parents, in You, and be true to Your promise to them to bless them. (Ephesians 6:1-4) Give them their daily bread.
Lord, You are our God and God of our children, and Your name is majestic! You are glorified above all, and Your glory is in the heavens. Establish strength in our children because of Your grace, and use the faith and testimony of our children to still Your enemies. (Psalm 8:1-2) Thank You, Lord, for the heritage You have given us in these children—please continue to make us fruitful as we nurture these olive shoots for Your Kingdom. Thank You for blessing our quiver with gifts of life! Please make us skillful archers to tend these arrows, help us to hone and sharpen and straighten these arrows by Your grace and favor. May we always remember that it is not their number that is important but their efficacy. Oh Lord, make our children potent. (Psalm 127:3-5) Please give us as parents wisdom and humility to train our children in the way they should go, so they will embrace Your covenant and never depart from You, giving us grace to discipline our children according to Your Word so that folly is driven from them and their hearts are continually softened by Your Word. (Proverbs 22:6, 15)
When our children sin, Lord God, bring them to repentance quickly. Create in them clean hearts and restore righteousness to them because of Jesus their Savior. (Psalm 51:3, 10) O Lord, be merciful to our children, for You are gracious. Show them what it is to be slow to anger and abounding in steadfast love. Father, forgive our children for their sins. Your love toward those who fear You is as high as heaven is above the earth! Show the depth of Your love and mercy toward our children by removing their transgressions from them as far as the east is from the west, as they fear You and repent. Show Your compassion to our children, and remember their frame of dust. Lord, our children’s days are busy as grass, but You and Your love endure for all eternity. Because of this, Lord of our family, we boldly ask You to remain faithful to our children and our grandchildren and our generations after them who keep Your covenant and do Your commandments, because You are indeed faithful and show us Your steadfast love. (Psalm 103:8-18) Forgive all of us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us.
According to Your great grace, our God and Father, be pleased to bless our children. Cause them to walk in Your ways so that they will eat the fruit of their labors, that they will be blessed—bring them spouses of unique valor and give them faithful, industrious, beautiful, creative, singing, dancing children. Give our children a zest for You and fear of You—in Your mercy, bless them from Your holy mountain, show them prosperity, allow them to see their children’s children, enable them to spread peace abroad. (Psalm 128) Delight our children with Your law, and be ever on their hearts and minds. Establish our children, for the sake of Your everlasting love, like trees planted by streams of water. Make our children fruitful in their seasons, and make them green with strength and integrity. O Lord God, for the sake of Your Kingdom and the testimony of Your people, in all that our children do, give them purity and make them prosper. (Psalm 1:2-3)
Our hearts exult in You, O Lord God, in You alone are our horns exalted. We laugh at our enemies and rejoice in Your salvation. There is none holy like You, O Lord, no one beside You—no rock like You, our most faithful God. (1 Samuel 1:1-2) Hear our prayers and show Your faithfulness so that we can glorify You anew and again. Yours is the Kingdom, the Power, the Glory—always and forever. Amen.
The glory of motherhood comes camouflaged in so much chaos.
~Lisa-Jo Baker, Surprised By Motherhood, p198~
This morning, after waking my soul by praying in the dark under the warmth of a duvet, I managed to pull myself out of bed before the kids were even stirring. Kissing my husband goodbye is always bittersweet—sending him off to tame his portion of the wild, to tend the domain put into his hands—getting kisses for the kids, and extra for myself to carry me through until our lips meet again. A new day, new mercies. Even old things feel new sometimes, like these soft morning kisses that spark my soul.
I shuffle out of the bedroom, turn on music and set lavender candles ablaze in the hushed morning. Sunshine not yet streaming over the foggy hills in the east, I start the fire, put away dishes, put in a load of laundry, proof yeast & set the mixer kneading, make a dark cup of coffee. I set out little bowls of raisins & Cheerios, with cups of milk alongside, and vitamins resting in the spoons. Chairs lined up on one side of our table—one, two, three. I pause for a moment over the mercy that that number is. Three.
I dress in my workout clothes and put a heating pad on my back, then sit at my desk with coffee and books and blogs and Scriptures. I empty myself in spirit and ask the Lord to fill me up with Himself. I find Him in friends and pastors and authors. I find Him in a couple short email conversations.
Then I find Him in one of my favorite places, wrapped in the softest skin, whispers and muted footsteps coming down the stairs. The gate at the bottom of the steps creaks. I see two little red heads and four bright blue eyes peering secretly around the corner at me. They begin to sneak on tiptoes around the kitchen island, coming up behind me to surprise their mommy. I pretend not to know, to play their game, to give them joy—which then gives me joy right back. Boo!
Giggles ensue. With many kisses, a dozen tight hugs.
They run to their little sister’s room, eager to have her join their antics. They know we are incomplete without her. Soon a little caramel topped girl, dolls tucked under each arm, joins the tiptoeing, the giggling. I can no longer hear my own thoughts, the psalms that are playing on the stereo are drowned out, the beeping washing machine and oven timer might be going off but I wouldn’t know it.
Eventually, three sets of tummies begin to growl, I put my books back in a stack in the far corner of my desk, then help three little bums to their chairs. Three sets of hands fold, three copper topped heads bow.
It’s quiet, I hear lungs breathing and noses sniffling. I hear the fire crackle, outside raindrops, the spin cycle on the washing machine. Three little miracles, quiet here knowing they are about to give thanks to their Creator, preaching to one another their faith even as it comes out their folded fingertips in routines. This is a holy moment, holy ground, even with mundane Cheerios before us and an empty coffee cup in my hand—because we are quiet in the presence of God, Who is always with us, and this is one of those moments where my children talk with Him together, and where we praise Him for His provision of both big & little things. In one breath, with the pandemonium suddenly subdued, this moment and this place feel purely consecrated.
Who wants to pray? I whisper, almost afraid to ruin the sacred moment.
I do it, the littlest one whispers right back. And she does—in a hushed tone, with entwined fingers and bowed head, and eyes rapidly blinking because she doesn’t yet know how to keep them closed tight. Unprompted, she prays: God. Thank You. Food. Milk. Vitamins. Daddy. Mommy. Gabriel. Asher. God. Thank You. Food. Bless us. God. Thank You. JesusnameAMEN.
Hands unfold to grab for spoons, heads start to bob with chatter and laughter. Chaos returns with giggles and spilled milk and Cheerios on the floor and asking for orange juice and shouting when someone notices it’s raining or there is a robin on the fence or half a dozen deer right outside the window.
I stand back and revel in the noise, trying to hear my own thoughts. The way these things are so simple and so profound at the same moment. I lay out schoolbooks and coloring books, wonder if I will find time to exercise, put the cereal bowls in the dishwasher, stop a squabble, add another log to the fire, let the dog out, help the children exchange cozy jammies for clean clothes. Coffee is gone and breakfast eaten, the music plays on, the fire roars, the candles flicker. Deep breaths: the day has begun.
This is a good life. The repetition, the routine, the mundane, the small, the quiet, the noise. They are big to me—huge, in fact. And they are beautiful—glorious.
The Lord is here, present, with us—Immanuel. In the quiet moments and in the loud chaotic ones. I expect today, like every day, will hold many of both.
Only miracle is plain; it is the ordinary that groans with the unutterable weight of glory.
~Robert Farrar Capon, The Supper of the Lamb: a Culinary Reflection, p99~
