Still Five

Annie has been looking forward to being five for months. Five means school. All day yesterday she kept asking if she was five now despite the evidence of presents, balloons, streamers and birthday cake. It might be because Mike was teasing her that she could never turn five and on her birthday he would sing her a new song: Four Forever! After all the waiting it was like she couldn't really believe it. Was she five? It didn't feel different.

This morning she asked several times again. Am I five? I kept reassuring her that yes she was indeed still five.

It struck me how often I do that with God. Am I saved? Am I forgiven? Am I loved? Because it is hard to believe that anyone could forgive me for the things I've done and still love me enough to die for me. So I keep asking. It doesn't feel any different. I still feel like the same old Michelle. I make mistakes, get tired, act mean to my family. Still after all these years of following Christ.

So, God, am I really changed? Do you still love me? I would totally understand if you didn't. Sometimes I don't even love myself.

But God is not like us. He continually and gently reassures us that yes we are indeed still saved.

"You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous man, though for a good man someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." Romans 5:6-8

His sacrifice was once for all.

"For Christ died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God. He was put to death in the body but made alive by the Spirit" 1 Peter 3:18

His love will never end.

"And so we know and rely on the love God has for us. God is love. Whoever lives in love lives in God, and God is him. In this way, love is made complete among us so that we will have confidence on the day of judgment, because in this world we are like him. There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love." 1 John 4:16-18

His forgiveness knows no bounds.

"As far as the east is from the west,
so far has he removed our transgressions from us" Psalm 103:12

As I've been answering Annie's questions I thought maybe God doesn't mind reassuring us. Just like when one of my kids runs into my arms it's another chance to show them my love. The love doesn't waver, it's always there. I'm the one that flounders. I need reassurance and I think he knows that. Of course He knows that, He knows everything! That's why he gave me the Bible. It shouldn't stop me from being secure in the promises He's given. It's just that every once in a while it is nice to hear those words again.

Now we are on to the next questions. Mom, Am I five and a half? When will I be six?

And I gently answer back, in 364 days honey.

Five

Seven years ago Mike and I were at a marriage conference.  We didn’t really want to go.  Our marriage was fine.  Great.  We met an older couple that shared how they had thought their wedding day was the mountaintop of happiness.  Now that they had celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary they realized they were wrong.  The joy and happiness of a life lived together is a much higher mountaintop than the naive giddiness of a wedding day.  I didn’t get it at the time, but God is showing me that as the years go by and we go through joys and trials it just keeps growing and getting better. 

Five years ago today, I was holding a brand new baby girl.  All 9 pounds, six ounces of her.  It feels like the pinnacle of happiness the day you give birth to a new bundle of joy. 

Those are some of the most precious and happy memories of my years with kids.  But if that is all the happiness there is, then today is a sad day. Because now she’s five.  She can swim.  She can ride a two-wheeler.  She can’t wait for school.

Next year her days will be filled with a new world.  School, teachers and friends.  I thought I would be thrilled to have one more climbing on the bus in the morning.  But I am going to miss these days with little miss sunshine.

 

As the years with little ones at home draw to a close, instead of gleefully moving on I’m finding myself tightening my grip.  Maybe I should keep her home next year?  But I’ve always known that my hold shouldn’t and couldn’t last.  She’s in His grip.  Step by step she’s got to move on.  And so do I.

But the words of that couple from the marriage conference keep coming back to mind.  We are only five years in and it’s such a blessing.  The days filled with her laughter and smile are just the beginning.  Imagine how much joy there will be in five years when I love her that much more.  When we’ve been through more ups and downs together.  Puberty, trouble with friends at school and losses and victories in sports? Or in ten or twenty years?  By the time we get to graduations and weddings, I can’t really imagine the place my heart will be if my love grows at this rate every five years.  It might burst into a million pieces.  It’s growing into something more than I could ever have imagined that day sitting in a hospital bed. 

And it gives me great hope.  That letting go is actually making room for more.  So bring it on, but not too fast.  I’m pretty satisfied with five right now.

You Might Be a Parent of Many

If there are a million pairs of shoes in the closet and yet the shoe rack is empty, you might be a parent of many.

If you need three shoe storage units to keep track of all the hats and mittens and yet no one can ever find a matching pair, you might be the parent of many.

If you have the pleasure of driving a vehicle like this, you might be the parent of many.

If you have vehicles that are so dirty your kids write their names in the back and sayings like “wash me” because who has the energy to wash such a beast? You might be the parent of many.

When booking a hotel online you realize there isn’t even an option for the number in your family, you might be a parent of many.

When you have to take out a personal loan to take the family to Arby’s, you might be the parent of many.

If you run to the store for a few quick staples just to get you through the week and come home with this, you might be the parent of many.

If you have more toothbrushes than could possibly fit in one of those cute countertop holders, you might be the parent of many.

If your yard looks like a used bike lot, you might be the parent of many.

If you gave up on the idea of building a patio out back because it really functions better as a sandbox, you might be the parent of many.

If you used all your patio money on peanut butter and syrup, you might be the parent of many.

If it takes five minutes to dirty six load of laundry, you might be the parent of many.

If you tried to make laundry soap once and decided you wanted your clothes to be clean and not smelly so you switched back to Tide even though it costs a lot and the big one lasts 3 days, you might be the parent of many. Or that might just be me.

If a dozen doughnuts isn’t enough to go around, you might be the parent of many.

If your feet stick to the kitchen floor (Hello gallon of syrup) and it doesn’t really bother you, you might be the parent of many.

If you own several sets of bunk beds, you might be the parent of many.

If you spray paint an old bike because three other kids have trashed used it, you might be the parent of many.

If this is what your calendar looks like on a good month, you might be the parent of many.

If the idea of saving for college sends you into fits on laughter, you might be the parent of many.

If you are so tired at the end of the day that you want to puke, you might be the parent of many.

If at night after the nausea subsides and before the numbness hits you realize how blessed you are, you might be the parent of many.

Root Cause

Yesterday morning I was scrambling to get everyone out the door. The big kids had school. The little girls and I were heading out on a long-awaited, much anticipated pre-school field trip to the nature center. I was packing lunches and gathering mud boots, hats and mittens when Annie started to flip out.

It's kind of shocking when that happens. Maren flips out all the time so I pretty much expect that. But Annie is usually happy-go-lucky and goes with the flow. She didn't want to wear the pants she had on. They were apparently baby pants. She didn't want to put her shoes on. She didn't want to go. She hates it. Her tummy hurts. She wants to go with Daddy. She was mad: stomping her foot and crossing her arms. A little like this.


















I didn't respond very gracefully. I stomped my feet and declared how much I hate my job. It was frustrating and we were going to miss the bus if we didn't hurry. I thought we could just skip it, but that didn't seem fair to Maren. Plus I knew she would have fun. I finally got her in the van and halfway down the driveway flipped a U-turn. You can do that when you live in the middle of a big field. She got in Mike's car. I threw my key down in the van and then couldn't find it. While I was looking for it, I regrouped.

I went over to her and told her how much I wanted her to come. She jumped into my arms and cried, "I'm scared!" At that moment my heart melted.

She was scared. She didn't want to fall into the pond like one of Jenna's friends did in Kindergarten. I don't know why we found it wise to tell her that story. I wanted to beat myself over the head. How could I be so oblivious?

I can't even tell you how many times I have been frustrated about something and taken it out on Mike. If I've had a bad day with the kids, I want to make him suffer. That happened for along time before I figured out, to his great relief, that my lashing out had nothing to do with him.

There have been lots of times that the kids have acted out and we figured out along the way that there was a reason. I just get so focused on what needs to be done that I don't take the time to talk to them about it. They may not realize it, but I should. No matter what, her behavior wasn't ok. But neither was mine. I'm the mom. I'm the grown up. It's my job to take the time and energy to get to the heart of the matter.

It's not my job to keep making sandwiches. It's not my job to get the van packed. It's not my job to get us to school on time. It's certainly not my job to throw my key down in anger.

It's my job to talk and encourage them to tell me what's going on in their minds and heart. It's my job to get to the root cause of what they're feeling. That is more important than field trips, mud boots, and beaver teeth because THEY are my job. Training, loving, teaching and helping them become the people God wants them to be.

I love my job and I don't want to get fired even though I probably deserve it at times. I have a good job.

"Therefore, as God's chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity." Colossians 3:12-14

I Hate Birds

I am not really a nature loving girl. I grew up in suburban Saint Paul. My idea of roughing it was a hotel without a pool. I spent most of my free time at malls. Then I moved to the Northland and had kids. Now I do enjoy being outside more than I used to. I like hiking and going on bike rides. It's even rumored that I enjoy camping however I cannot confirm that in public.

One of the parts of nature that I dislike the most is birds. My mom is deathly afraid of them and she's passed that on to me. I'm not deathly afraid, I guess I just hate them. And here I am today totally excited about birds. I am totally pumped about a bird banding class.

When I used to work at my home church, my friend Heather and I ran kids day camps all summer. Our least favorite day was nature center day. Taking a bunch of kids knee deep in a pond to look for critters was not our idea of fun. But at least we were getting paid for it. On a side note the best day was going to the PlayZone. It was an indoor playground, air-conditioned with Diet Coke in the snack shop!

Anyway, I spent this morning walking around a nature center with Maren and Annie's class. It was freezing cold and windy. We were looking for beaver teeth marks in trees. In the cold. Did I mention how much I love nature? I couldn't care less which tree a beaver chewed. Then we looked at the snakes and turtles in the building. Gross. The good news is that I had a can of Diet Coke in our lunch bag. The thought of that helped me fight on.

I can think of about 501 other things I would have wanted to do this morning. Number 500: a root canal. Okay, it wasn't quite that bad. But you get the picture. We do things for our kids that we have no interest in. It's not that hard to do things I don't like for the sake of my kids.

As they get older, I'm finding out how important to recognize each of my kids' gifts, talents and personalities and find ways to encourage them. It's not about what I want them to do or what's fun for me. It's easier with some kids than others. Jenna and I are a lot alike. We like a fast bike ride or a walk with friends. We had a great basketball season.

Then there's Grant. Grant has become passionate about ornithology. Huh, come again? Yeah, that's the term science and nature people use to talk about the study of birds. Yep, birds. He's bringing home large books on birds and talking about having a pet bird. I shudder at the thought. How am I supposed to connect with my son who is passionate about something I loathe?

Today at the nature center I noticed a bird watching center with charts and binoculars. I asked the naturalist about it. She told me they are having a bird banding class in May that we could go to. They have camps about birds for kids. And all of a sudden I was super excited about birds. What a great opportunity for Grant. I had to hold myself back from running right up to his classroom when we got back to tell him. He can learn about birds. We can connect through the love and interest of a naturalist that does not shudder at the thought of touching a bird.

I don't love birds. But I love my son. I want to encourage his unique personality and interests. So ornithology here we come. Even if I never learn to enjoy it, I'll certainly enjoy the time with him. And as long as I can watch through the window with a Diet Coke in hand, we'll be good.

How do you connect with your kids? What are the gifts and passions you are seeing in them that need to be encouraged?