Mary overcame in the way women are called to conquer—
by giving birth to conquerors,
or by giving birth to daughters who will give birth to conquerors.And this explains how the Magnificat can have been
composed by a woman
and still be so gloriously militant.Godly child-bearing is militant.
The seed of the woman has crushed the dragon’s head.~Douglas Wilson, God Rest Ye Merry, p26~
Needing Rescue
The fall of man did not introduce evil; it placed us on the wrong side of it, under its rule, needing rescue.
~N.D. Wilson, Death by Living, p77~
Real story grip
Mary knew she was a pregnant virgin,
Mary knew what Simeon told them here [in Luke 2:25-35],
she knew what the angel had said, and more.
So she knew that the cross was not the end of the story—
but it was true grief in the story nonetheless.
Knowing we are in a story does not prevent real story grip from happening.
A sword went straight through Mary’s soul—
and she knew that it was coming years in advance.
~Douglas Wilson, God Rest Ye Merry, p29~
Impossibillions
Imagine sticking your fingers on your pulse
and thanking God every time
He gave you another blood-driving, brain-powering thump.
We should.
And we shouldn’t,
because if we did,
we would never do anything else with our living;
we wouldn’t have the time to look at or savor
any of the other of our impossibillions of gifts.
~N.D. Wilson, Death by Living, p108~
Longing
I know that most of us are longing for something. I know that longing is part of the deal, part of living in the not-yet-heaven. I know people who are longing to marry, who are longing to be healed from disease, longing for their children to come home, longing for the financial pressure to release. I get that longing is part of how we live. But today I feel angry and boxed in, like the system is rigged against me and everywhere I turn, someone else’s body is blooming with new life, while mine still, again, is not. …That’s why it’s hard, I think, to rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn. I love that line from the Bible, but it’s so incredibly difficult sometimes, because when you’ve got reason to rejoice, you forget what it’s like to mourn, even if you swear you never will. And because when you’re mourning, the fact that someone close to you is rejoicing seems like a personal affront.
~ Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet, p127~
I’m still hoping for a happy ending, but if there is one for us, it will be a little off-kilter and not nearly as tidy and poetic as I’d hoped. It will carry inside it a whole lot of tears and longing, and a few good lessons learned watching the lake one Saturday afternoon. I’ll keep celebrating the good news with each friend and each new baby, until maybe I’m the only one left in that dwindling circle. And I’ll ask for help and tenderness every time I find myself crying in the bathroom. And most important, I’ll choose to believe that sometimes the happiest ending isn’t the one you keep longing for, but something you absolutely cannot see from where you are.
~ Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet, p129~
in the middle
I’m still in the middle of it. The thick part. Of my story. Of grief. I knew the happy chapters weren’t going to be the end. I knew that shadows would come again, because that is part of the scenery of life. But at the time… when Evangeline came so soon on the heels of Asher, for instance… I confess that I really did think I had moved past the thickest and hardest part of my grief chapters. I admit it: I had grown naive all over again. Not quite to the point of naivete that comes ingrained into us all with our first pregnancy ~ no, of course I could never go back that far into the naive. But I was at least naive enough again to think that God had wrapped up those chapters, and tied them up with a pretty bow, tucking them away into this magical part of my life story called the past. And then 2014 happened. And it’s been like reliving 2009 and 2010. And what’s funny is that I suddenly realize that I am right back in the middle of it. Back in the thick of it. In a place I thought I’d left, hoped I had left forever.
I’m still weary. Weary again. And then some.
Every day I feel not only emotionally and spiritually spent, but seriously physically exhausted. And no, it isn’t just because I am a young mom of three amazing little kids with electricity-like energy. It’s an exhaustion that I can not explain. It’s so much more tiring than the early days of infancy. I had so much energy when I had a 4 year old, a 14 month old, and a newborn. This is different. This is what Shauna Niequist calls the middle. And I’m still there. In the thick waistline of my grief story.
When you’re in the middle, pretty much all you can ask for are little bits of flame to light the darkness that feels interminable. You don’t know what the story is about when you’re in the middle of it. You think you do, but you don’t. … I hate the middle. The middle is the fog, the exhaustion, the loneliness, the daily battle against despair and the nagging fear that tomorrow will be just like today, only you’ll be wearier and less able to defend yourself against it. The middle is the lonely place, when you can’t find words to say how deeply empty you feel, when you try to connect but you feel like thick glass is separating you from the rest of the world, isolating and deadening everything.
~Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet, p216
There are diamonds in crevices, hidden throughout the darkness. To be sure.
The nine jewels in my crown who live in heaven are only the tip of the iceberg when it comes to the diamond mining we do in the shadows of our grief.
I believe in mining through the darkest seasons in our lives and choosing to believe that we’ll find something important every time.
~Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet, p194
But sometimes when stuck in the middle of it all, I am not equipped for the mining yet. That often comes later. It comes when the exhaustion is not so overwhelming, when the tears are not always at the ready, when the cynicism has worn away a bit. In the meantime, it’s the comfort of Christ, and the comfort He extends through His people, that helps pull me through the middle.
Jesus is no stranger to pain or loss or heartache, and there are some times when the only thing that eases the pain is His comfort. I wasn’t ready, and still am not, to mine through this experience for opportunities to grow, things to learn, ways to transcend and transform. Maybe I’ll be ready over time, and maybe not. But it is an opportunity to be comforted. I’d rather not need the comfort. But I’m thankful that it’s there when I need it, because I’ve needed it desperately this month.
~Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet, p248
As we continue to see the story of our life revealed through time and circumstances, we are thankful to know who the author is. We trust Him and praise Him. We seek His face, His mercy, His grace. We rest in His comfort and delight in His love. We cry to Him and fall at His feet, and know that He is here with us even in the thickness of the middle.
Little Darlings
If you’ve been marked by what might have been you don’t forget.
You know the day, the years.
You know when the baby would have been born…
It makes the calendar feel like a minefield,
like you’re constantly tiptoeing
over explosions of grief until one day you hit one,
shattered by what might have been.
~Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet, p110~
I can’t always pinpoint exactly what makes me miss my sweet babies more on some days than on others. But today is a day where I just feel their absence here tangibly. When I was lying in bed this morning, I suddenly noticed I had my hand resting on my belly: almost as if I were waiting for Fidelis to kick me. I keep looking at Evangeline’s things as I pack them away into the basement and wonder what I should do with them… and I wonder what her little sister Heritage would have looked like in each outfit, and whether she would have loved shoes and hairbows as much as her big sister does. All three of my children are infatuated with babies, and even their little babydolls (Bennett, Timmy, and Bea) ~ and when they play house together, I watch with my own arms empty, my womb closed up, my breasts dry.
This year is so far from what I thought it would be. And while most days I am able to not only function with joy & thankfulness & peace, there are the rare occasions like today where all I want to do is crumble into a ball in a dark closet and weep for the children I lost to heaven.
On most days, for me, it’s all right…
But for today, for a minute, it’s not all right.
I understand that God is sovereign,
that bodies are fragile and fallible.
I understand that grief mellows over time,
and that guarantees aren’t part of human life,
as much as we’d like them to be.
But on this day, looking out at the harsh white sky of a Chicago winter,
I’m crying just a little for what might have been.
…I’ll always know.
~Shauna Niequist, Bittersweet, p110~
A couple days ago, I read the account of Lazarus’ death and resurrection to my children, and Gabriel said “if Jesus had been here, would our babies not have died either?” I assured him that Jesus indeed was here, and it brought Him joy to take our children to heaven. And I reminded him of how Jesus Himself said all of these things are so that God would be glorified.
Today I miss my sweet babies acutely.
They are my little darlings, and I will always be their mommy.
So I’m thankful tomorrow will carry new mercies, and my God is the same yesterday, today, and forever. Amen.
All around the world, God is giving and sustaining life to the praise of His grace.
His mercy is new every morning, and it’s always morning somewhere.
~Gloria Furman, Treasuring Christ When Your Hands are Full, p149~
Daily Soul Food
We are teachers, we work with words,
which means that we are builders of worlds.
~Douglas Wilson, blog
Distance learning is not a new thing. We have always had distance learning.
That is what books are.
~Douglas Wilson, blog
There’s no better time than all the time to boldly ask God for mercy and grace.
~Gloria Furman, Treasuring Christ When Your Hands are Full, p109
Let the children come unto Me…
…and forbid them not, for of such is the Kingdom of God! (Matthew 19:14)
As Steven and I have raised our children, we have had the privilege, blessing, and responsibility of bringing our children to the sanctuary for worship each Lord’s Day ever since their birth. In fact, last Sunday was the first time our children ever attended Sunday school! But it was in the education hour prior to the worship service. For worship, we believe in coming together as a family; but yes, that means that Gabriel was over 6 years old before attending a Sunday school class, and Asher nearly 3. I suppose that is backward from what a lot of modern evangelical families practice! 🙂 But it is such a joy and privilege to sit together as a family each week during worship: to sing, pray, learn, read, respond, confess, pass peace, and partake of the Lord’s Supper ~ together. Our children belong to the Lord just as much as we adults do! So this week I read a little book called “Parenting in the Pew” as a refresher and reminder to myself of why it is such a joy and responsibility and privilege not to send my kids off to their own little classes while the adults worship alone. Below, here are a few little highlight snippets that really hit-home for me. May the Lord continue to bless my children, and grant grace to our family, as we come together at His feet to worship Him, seek His grace and forgiveness, revel in His mercy, eat His meal, sing with His people, pray on behalf of His people, and live as equals before our Father in heaven. I love filling a pew together. And just recently, after many months of being at different churches, we are filling a pew with my parents again. The blessing of having three generations together filling a pew is glorious, and we praise God for this kindness! It reminds me of growing up in California, filling a super long pew with my mom’s side of the family: my great-great-grandma, my great-grandpa, my grandpa & grandma, my parents, my brother & me, and occasionally my uncle’s family. All of us together. What a beautiful expression of God’s generational faithfulness, and Deuteronomy 6 coming to life in a tangible way.
May God draw my husband and me, and our children, and our children’s children, even unto a thousand generations, joyfully into His presence because He is faithful, the Alpha and the Omega, worthy of all praise, the Lamb that was slain. Amen!
[As a child], all I was taught was to “be quiet and be good.” “Be still, and know that I am God” is more biblical (Psalm 46:10). This verse begins to define the difference between “going to church” and “going to worship.” Going to worship requires a life-transformation and happens out of a new heart, not an old habit.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p18Simply telling children to “be quiet” is not the way to draw their attention to the worship that is taking place. The purpose of parenting in the pew is to train a child to worship, not to be quiet. Quietness at certain times may enhance their ability to worship, but quietness is a means to this effort, not an end.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p63If our children’s lack of quietness preoccupies us rather than their worship experience, we are simply in the pew in the presence of our kids and are probably feeling far from the presence of God.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p63Training children to worship does not always enhance our own experience of being before the Lord… The number of times children must be helped to concentrate, pay attention and enter into the worship service is almost beyond counting. The effort can be exhausting. And it can be pleasing to God.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p63It can seem paradoxical that to help a child to develop concentration and a sense of quietness for worship, parents have to talk more. If you sit close to your children, however, you can give whispered instructions and reminders rather easily and with little or no distraction to others.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p63It is not unusual for parents to express delight as their own sense of worship is enhanced through practicing parenting in the pew. The liturgy becomes less routine and more relevant. Not because the words have changed, but because we listen again to the familiar and find that God is still speaking.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p67Music is one of the easier tools for parents to use in teaching their children to worship. … Scripture memorizing, too, is made easier if done through songs.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p73Parents need help in getting the youngest of worshipers to sing praise to God through music written for adults. This can be a significant way that young children are connected to the heritage and history of the church. Worship music can also lay a foundation for understanding the truth of God that produces the theologians of the next century.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p73Children love being set free to “make a joyful noise.” … During songs or hymns, encourage very young children to sing “la, la, la” with the tune if the words are totally unknown or unpronounceable to them. Children don’t mind doing this and will quickly begin to pick up the refrain or a repeated phrase.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p73God is believable because He is real. His reality rings true with children because of His sovereignty. God’s purposes and will do not always match our expectations. It is very often in disappointment or difficulty in the lives of our children that God’s existence becomes objective and real, distinctive and powerful for them. We shouldn’t be afraid that prayer that is not answered according to our hopes will weaken or destroy or children’s faith. Children need to see that God can be trusted no matter what. This is the foundation for maturing faith.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p85Learning to pray about real things, simple or profound, prepares children to participate in the church family. The church needs to hear the prayers of children, because they often reflect the best definition of faith given in the Scripture: “Faith is being sure of what we hope for and certain of what we do not see” (Hebrews 11:1).
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p85Sometimes [children] will whisper questions in the pew. Giving brief answers to some questions is appropriate; others need to be answered at a later time. Either way, be sure to respond respectfully to your children. If a question needs to be answered later, ask the child to remember the question and ask it again after church.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p101Through worshiping together, my children and I have become friends before the throne of grace. As fellow sinners, we worship our Father who forgives. In worship we have learned to love God and accept His mercy. In worship we have learned to love each other and accept our failures. God must be real in our experience of faith. He must be known and encountered. We cannot be satisfied with worship that simply fulfills social and religious obligations. God must be heard. We need to teach our children what it means to touch the hem of His garment and be healed. Our children need to clamber into the loving lap of the Savior. He yearns for the companionship of children and longs to bless them.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p124…I see my sons more clearly in the pew. Sitting beside me I see the handiwork of God. In the presence of our Father, my sons have become my brothers.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p125The best kind of seeker service is one where unchurched people feel two things simultaneously: “I don’t belong here!” and “I want to belong here!” The mysterium tremendum, God’s fearful majesty, is off-putting and in-drawing at the same time. The “throne of Grace” is still a throne, not a rocking chair or floor pillow. The church is not another club to join. It is the body of Christ, the presence of the kingdom of God in the world.
~Robbie Castleman, Parenting in the Pew, p139
For further excellent encouragement on this subject, please read our friend Pastor Toby Sumpter’s exhortation here!
Teaching my children
You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might.And these words that I command you today shall be on your heart.You shall teach them diligently to your children, and shall talk of them when you sit in your house, and when you walk by the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise.You shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be as frontlets between your eyes.You shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates.
… lest you forget the Lord… It is the Lord your God you shall fear. Him you shall serve and by His name you shall swear.
Deuteronomy 6:5-9, 12, 13
As a homeschooling mama I particularly embrace teaching my children about… well… pretty much everything! But the main thing that God calls me to teach my children is Him ~ and of course, in the process of learning about Him, they will learn not only His Word but also about His people, His world, His creation, His desires. Our prayer is that our children would come to see all of life through the lens of Christianity, so that they know that nothing can be separated from God, and that they would not only know but also love that all things are connected to Him, and are for His glory and the furtherance of His Kingdom.
So as I continue in the journey of homeschooling these sweet children the Lord has entrusted to my care, I pray that Deuteronomy 6 would be a daily meditation and reality for me. It is written on the wall near our front door, and I pray that it would be inscribed upon my heart just as noticeably.
As I’ve recently been enjoying a little read by Elizabeth George, she reminds me of some easy highlights from Deuteronomy 6:7 ~
Who is to teach? Every believing parent.
Who are you to teach? Your children.
What are you to teach? God’s Word.
How are you to teach? Diligently.
When are you to teach? All day long, every day.
Where are you to teach? At home and everywhere.
It’s so basic and so complex all at the same time!
May the Lord equip me to accomplish this task set before me!
Psalm 34:11
2 Timothy 1:5
Proverbs 1:8
Proverbs 6:20