born. . .

A son for Brett and Rachel-his mom's cheeks, his dad's fingers. . .

Ivan David

(April 29, 2012)

Last night, in the dark of night, holdng screaming Ivan, I remembered. . . baby's breath is sweet

waiting. . .

 I'm visiting Brett and Rachel in Ohio- we're waiting. . .
Yesterday morning they walked to a doctor's appointment (it's small town Ohio) and I stayed home, kneading Rachel's bread, incubating Brett's yoghurt, doing laundry-I can handle all those good tasks.
We're still waiting- today may be the day. . .

helper not controller

 I was working on a devotional for a bridal shower last week.
Trust in the Lord and do good, dwell in the land and cultivate faithfulness (Psalm 37:3)
Trust in the Lord. . .(not people, circumstances, expectations, events)
 Last week a young man had a bicycle crash; he was jumping off something or other, had a concussion, ended up in the emergency room. . .
The following day he called me, "I told my wife that I won't jump off  that bridge again!" (good man, I thought.)
A few days later his wife sent me an email with a a brief explanation of the event. (eeek, the unknown is frightening, I thought.)
But mainly I thought how this wife responded to her husband as his helper (she took him to the emergency room) and not his controller (she didn't say, Never get on that mountain bike again!!)
So-when a woman marries, she has a claim on her husband--but she doesn't own him, God does. . .
Trust in the Lord and do good. . .

thinking about kingdom work

And we urge you, admonish the unruly, encourage the faint hearted, help the weak, be patient with all men. (1 Thess 5:14)
S0-today I talked a long time to an old friend who lives in another state.
She told me about her vision for big kingdom work -like working in the pro life movement or rescuing girls from sex trafficking . . .
It was all good.
Then I told my friend that sometimes big kingdom work simply means that I say Yes to a need-time after time, any time, even when it's uncomfortable or inconvenient or costly.
And big kingdom work involves my attitude each morning when I open my eyes to a new day and ask, "God, how can I encourage the fainthearted, help the weak-today?"
Maybe big kingdom work is more about how I view God and his glory and less about what exactly I do for Him.
hmm, perhaps I'm still working through this one. . .

abstract art

Recently a woman narrated to me a tale of spilled milk: her little one was all set for school, starched and pressed, and then an elbow sunk into the cereal bowl-
The same week another woman shared how her child refused to take a bite of dinner-the ordeal carried on and on.
Questions about child raising come up a lot- I don't always remember the spilled milk times with my 8, although I'm sure those times were there for me too. (I do remember corn bread, sticky like glue, under the table after dinner.) I remember how little issues can overwhelm and confuse a weary parent.
And honestly, I wish I had been kinder, more patient, more grace filled during the little years and beyond.
Last week I watched this sweet girl fit puzzle pieces together on the hardwood floor in my living room. I remember the panicky urge to force my children like puzzle pieces into my life picture. It doesn't work-children are like abstract art . . .
And God is faithful.

I have been young and now I am old and I have not seen the righteous forsaken (Ps 37)

to stitch and pause. . .

When life gets intense and I need to pause. . .well, sometimes I dig in the dirt or pull weeds. Sometimes I knead bread or fold clothes.
And often I knit or quilt a bit.
Here's Gwyneth's global quilt-Aunt Mercy chose the fabric and named the quilt. I think she will love it.
The other day I completed the final tiny stitches-the rocking motion of the quilting needle is good rhythm, pause in a busy life.

Last week dear friends from out of town filled our home with noise and laughter and great conversation-before they left we already missed them. . .
And any cracks in our days filled up with work, play, and worthy pursuits-no empty spaces in the entire week, so it seemed.
Yesterday I told John, " A Saturday with nothing planned sounds delicious. . ."
But at 8 a.m. Luke texted, We're going to the river with our bikes.
We called back; he was at the bakery buying coffee and almond croissants and they would be at the river in 15 minutes. "I'll buy a few more croissants," he said.
We couldn't resist.
Julia and I chose our favorites from a carpet of wild flowers-of course, she chose pink, I chose orange and brown.