Budding theologian

Shawn took Owen to preschool today.  On the way over there the song, "Jesus loves the little children," played on the CD.

Owen:  "Grandma Springer sings me that song."
Shawn:  "That's nice. It is a good song. Your grandmas love you so much.
Do you remember Grandma Gerber?"
Owen:  "Yes I do."
Shawn:  "You know Owen, I really miss her."
Owen:  "Yeah, but Dad, we will see her again."
Shawn: "Oh, how is that?
Owen: "One day God is going to give us a new body then we will all be together in heaven."

You have a good heart, Owen. You are already giving pastoral care!  May your faith continue to grow and deepen and inspire you and others.

Jesus said to them, "Let the children come to me.  Don't stop them!  For the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.  I assure you, anyone who doesn't have their kind of faith will never get into the kingdom of God. " Then he took the children into his arms and placed his hands on their heads and blessed them."

Mark 10:14-16

The almost unnoticed laugh

We needed to be out the door this morning no later than 9am to go to Owen's preschool field-trip to the apple orchard.  (I think it must be a requirement for preschool curriculum to include at least one of these per fall!)  Connor did NOT want to put on his socks and shoes.  As I was flying around gathering up the things we needed, I caught Connor on my lap and started the wrestling battle (MMA worthy). I didn't even realize it, until I actually turned to look him in the face, exasperated about what was going on, that I saw this:

I cracked up laughing!  Not 1, but 2 pacifiers. (I mean, really, he is pretty addicted, but this is verging on a 12-step program!)  We all had a really great laugh about it. Then he sat down, let me put his socks and shoes on without fault.  

It got me thinking...how often do I go about my day without really looking into my children's face?  That I run around and around, balancing 50,000 duties and tasks, and not really see what they are trying to show me.  This just gave me pause to stop and consider...

1.  What am I missing when I don't slow down to notice who they are     (being/changing) and what they want (from me/show me)?

2. How can laughter and a sense of humor help diffuse even the most difficult situation? 

Oh Connor--you are my jokester.  

I love you so much.
Forgive me when I don't notice you and what you are trying to show me. 

Help me to not get so caught up in the day to day details
that I miss out on the fun of life. 

Your eyes truly twinkle.

Go on, say it!

This weekend was one of those.  At the store, I was the mother wrangling her screaming children who wanted M&Ms.  At church, I had the wiggly child who did not seem to understand the meaning of "whisper."  At the park, I had the kids that cut in the slide line, ran away when called, and pouted when it was time to go home.

Yes, it was one of those.

Last night, on the way home from the park, I started lamenting to Shawn that people probably think our kids are out of control.  Wisely, Shawn said, "I don't really care."

That phrase instantly re-oriented me.

Yes, I do sometimes have squirmy kids who know what they want, when they want it and are not afraid to show it.  Sometimes I have kids who have difficulty listening to directions and following instructions.  But really, who doesn't?

Rather than going down the self-loathing road, I instead turned and told myself that still, despite my children's "sometimes" (and "sometimes more") behavior, I am still a really great mom. And person.

Sometimes I need to remind myself of this.

If you are a mom (or whatever role you are in...worker, dad, grandparent, pastor, etc...) I invite you to say it too, SNL Stuart Smiley style!

For Kent and Miriam--on this dedication Sunday

My lovely in-laws and sweet niece and nephew Hannah at St. Thomas "Therefore I have lent him to the Lord..." 1 Samuel 1:28 In this madonna season I sit surrounded by plain and not so plainsong, searching for the one bright note attuned to my sound. Like Hannah, I brave the eyebrowed skepticism of presiding priests who rightly suspect my presence is less pious, more maternal. No matter. I know what I've laid on the altar. Bone of bone. Flesh of flesh. A gift no usher could collect in plates of silvered velvet. In this madonna season I am reminded that birth is just the first separation. And though each sock is named, each letter numbered, there's a loss which is never reclaimed. For each procession moves through time as well as space, and every turn reveals less child, more power in his face. Neither maestro nor messiah, he simply lives and moves and sings. And in place of angel visits, I only ask that in his dark of night he'll hear all that is holy call him by name.

© 1990 Heather Murray Elkins

Exactly what did Noah do?

Owen and I were reading a Bible story about Noah and the Ark last night before bed.  Half-way through the story, Owen stopped me and asked,

"Did Noah have TV?"
"Um, no."
"Then, what did he do? I bet he was bored in that ark."

I think we might need to lay off the TV watching in our house.  Maybe what Owen needs is an animal (or two) to feed?

New life

A few weeks ago we were sitting down at the table with Chet and Mary, our dear friends who were visiting us from NC, for lunch.  Owen pipes up and says he want to say the prayer.

Fine.

"Dear Lord, thank you for Chet and Mary.Thank you for this food.  Thank you for Connor.  Thank you for Daddy.  Thank you for Mommy.  And thank you for the baby that is in Mommy's baby.  Thank you for new life. Amen."

WHAT?!?!?!

God's faithfulness

Our family had a worship service together on Sunday morning.  I was asked to share about how I've experienced God's faithfulness in this past year or so of my life.  Many of you who have read this blog for sometime now, have heard these things (time and time again).  But I wanted to copy what I said here in this blog format, so my boys can one day read it.

God has been so faithful. Even now, two months into our transition, God has provided for us time and time again.  Not only financially, but physically, mentally, emotionally.  The deeper my roots go, the more and more I'm convinced that this Christian walk/journey is not really about me. I'm not central.  What does or doesn't happen to me isn't really the point.  The point is how I respond to the One who never changes. For me, the continual invitation is to stay committed to the path, despite the journey along the way.

Anyhow, this is for you, Owen and Connor, may you grow to understand the mercy and compassion of God, the One who walks with you always:

God’s faithfulness

A few days before Connor was born, a tune came into my being.  Each day when I awoke I heard this song and I knew from within that this was the song of my soon-to-be-born child.

O Connor we love you in every way

Know God loves you too and walks with you always

May love, joy, and peace surround you every day. 

Little did I know that this song would come to be a powerful reminder to me of God’s faithfulness and love, an anchor as the storms of life that would soon come.

These last 2 years have been some of the most difficult I have experienced in my life thus far.  March of 2009 was a severe low point.  With our car accident, when Connor was only 3 months old, coupled with Shawn’s mother’s diagnosis with cancer the same week, both highlighted the fragility of this life.  These experienced raised questions with me about the nature of God.  In my head I could say and reason and explain how God was good and loving and all-powerful. Going through these difficult times of darkness and death made me look again and reexamine everything. 

In regards to the accident, people would say to me, “Oh wow. God must have really been watching over you.  Praise God you weren’t hurt any worse.” 

Yes, but…but what about the woman who looked nearly dead, thrown into her backseat…or the truck driver whose truck burst into flames and was life-flighted out.  Where was God’s protection over them?   Who is this God? Can God be trusted?  Does God really care?  And then that led me down the dark path to ask the questions like Job’s friend, “What did I do?  Do I have some hidden sin in my life that is causing these things?”

And yet, underneath these questions and longings for answers…Connor’s song persisted in my conscious and sub-conscious.

And then one day it hit me, just when I needed it the most as I was singing it to him…

“Know God loves you too and walks with you always…”

As I reflected upon these events over these past months and year, I have come to a new place of understanding.  I have come to see that really life is just life.  And with life, come the good and the bad.  I’m not sure there is really much we can do to bring on the good, and avoid the difficult.  Life encompasses both fully.  However, God did promise that he would always walk with us.  This is most fully seen in Jesus, as he came as Emmanuel, meaning, “God with us.”

And I did see God’s active presence in walking with us in people that supported us, encouraged us, loved us through these intense months.  Truly their arms were God’s arms holding and surrounding us.  I find it ironic that as I look back on our life and how our journey has taken us from Colorado to Indiana, we were in Indiana, surrounded by our family and closest friends at the point in our life that we needed the support the most.  I can hardly imagine going through this in a new place with people with whom we had no history with.  And so, looking at the big picture of things, God was there, God knew what we needed even before we did. 

And then I realized in a new way that the tune of Connor’s song was, “Be Still and Know that I am God.”

Be still and know that I am God. 

Be still and know that I am God.

Be still and know that I am God.

My invitation in the midst of it all was to trust.  To trust that God ultimately is in control.  That God holds it all together.  And my invitation in the midst of the storm of anxiety, is to simply be. To release the illusion that my need to control my circumstances, as it is really a form of idolatry; or in other words, by my need to worry and be anxious and controlling, I am/was playing God.  

Richard Rohrer, a well-known Franiscian priest, using Psalm 46 as a meditative prayer exercise,  

Be still and know that I am God.

Be still and know that I am.

Be still and know.

Be still. 

Be.

Looking back, God has been faithful.  Even in the storm, God surrounded me with what I needed when I needed it, even if I didn’t know it/realize it at the time, and I know that God will continue to as I go forward.  My invitation is to let God be God. And to be still and know and God holds it all together.  For always and forever. 

Thanks be to God.

Family fun

We just got back from Ohio at my aunt and uncle's farm (Ramseyer Farm) for an extended family reunion.  It was lots of fun and we had an excellent time playing together.  Owen, esp., had a blast playing with all of his cousins that he doesn't get to see much of anymore.  We ate hard, played hard, and slept hard!  Here are some pictures from our time together:

The Troyer family

Great grandchildren with Grandma Troyer!

Cousins

Women afternoon...making birdhouses out of gourds!

Coming down the slide

It's the cousin train!

Racing

Jenna and Con at Ramseyer Farms!

Wade and Owen playing in the corn

Unwinding the yo-yo

The words, "slow down," have come to me often these past few days.  I feel like I am always rushing my boys to or from somewhere.  Even if we are on a walk, we have a destination to get to (or exercise that could be received as a bi-product).

Come on, come on!
Let's go!
1-2-3...!
Follow me!

Push, prod, wrangle, even drag.  This is what my days have feel like as I try to move 2 lively boys around this planet. But again the words, "slow down," convicted me today multiple times.

And so, we went to the Rivanna River, which just happens to be behind our house.

Beautiful, isn't it? The boys L.O.V.E. it here. There are lots of rocks and the water is very shallow and clear.  We put our suits on and waded in the warm water, skipped rocks, and looked for frogs. Literally, as I was out there looking around at this gorgeous creation that is just steps from where I live, I felt something unraveling inside of me.  With each breath I took, the coil that was tightly wound up within me began to unwind. It was sheer joy, pure abandon. There was no place we needed to be. No schedule to keep.  There was nothing that we needed to do, except to be in the moment.  It was heaven.  I couldn't stop smiling.

It made me think of a yo-yo...life is all about schedules and places to go, things to do.  Life gets all wrapped up and wound around the planners and meetings and play dates (as well as the emotional windings of the 'shoulds' & 'oughts.') I mean really, that is a part of life and no matter of yogi training will get you away from that.  But you can't really utilize the yo-yo unless you release the string. Until you let it go, the toy really isn't much fun.

And so it is with me.  I need to unwind the yo-yo every now and then. Life is too short to just let it rush by.*

[*Afterward:  Our zen state here lasted all of 10 minutes before someone told me that they had to go to poop. Lovely.  Great timing, right?  I guess the setting helped someone else (ahem) "unwind" too.]