Good Ol' Days

Enjoying tomatoes from our garden!

I know that many people have tried to warn you about having a child. Some people have told you to expect your whole life to change; traveling is a thing of the past, no more late nights, say goodbye to hanging out with the crew. That it stops being about you; if youre sick you better suck it up, you’ll never have “you” time anymore, your desires take a back seat to theirs. That you have to give up everything for them; hobbies, jobs, crafts, art. I know people have tried to warn you to prepare yourself. I’ve been warned as well. Its why I was so afraid to have children. I didnt want to give up me.

I have an almost-7 year old, an almost-5 year old, and one cooking in the oven. Today as I was folding a behemoth pile of clothes covering my entire bed, and praying to God about my children, I realized something.

My children didn’t change my life.

They changed my heart.

And my new heart is what changed my life.

I could have kept on living the life I was living with children. I could have hired help to make sure I still had my weekends, I could have continued to pursue my hobbies full force, and I could have taught my kids not to wake me up early. I could have helped them learn to adapt to my life, and maintained a fairly similar life after their birth. My kids didnt demand me to change. In fact, children are quite adaptable. Children didnt come with an unwanted, boring, pale version of my former life.

But my love for them, that changed everything.

Instead of going to a beach in Cancun for vacation, I dreamed of their faces meeting Mickey or Captain America in the hottest, most crowded, overly expensive place on earth. And I ENJOYED every minute of it.

The bible says that children are a blessing. And my children have blessed my life with joy.

I choose things in my life not because I HAVE TO go to Disney, but because I love taking them to Disney. I love pizza night and kids movies. I love Saturday pajama/ board game days. I love seeing their brains learning new things while they explore museums, climb monkey bars, and splash in the lake. I love watching them grow, I love talking about life with a 6 year old, I love chasing bumblebees, kissing scraped hands, playing dress up at 7 in the morning even though I could be sleeping. I love pancakes and how they make every morning better. I love arguments followed by the most sincerest apologies I’ve ever known.

They teach me forgiveness everyday. They teach me joy everyday. They teach me pure love everyday. They love me without condition. They encourage me, help me, make me laugh, and they see me like no one else does.

I know, They’re young still. But you know what? I have a mom, who is not perfect. And I’ve learned hard lessons over the years with her and about her. But as a child, I can tell you that there probably isn’t one person who could match my pride for her. And I doubt many people can match my love for her. My mom always delighted in us. She was always proud of us and always by our side.

I think she understood that children are blessings too.

I was so afraid of the “bad” stuff, the hard moments, the frustration and anger and lack of sleep… Thank you God I didn’t let fear keep me from this blessing.

Whether you are trying to decide to have your own, or deciding to adopt a child, please be warned: they will change your heart. You will never feel the same, think the same, or love the same. You may buy “lame” cars and wear “lame” clothes and do “lame” things, but trust me, your heart wont care. You’ll be so filled with joy that you’ll even appreciate the convenience that all of those lame things bring to your crazy, wild life!

Last year, in the beginning of my final fall semester at Columbia College, I believe that God told me I was rushing through school. You can understand how hard to believe this was when you take into consideration the fact that I was going on 31 years old, and had been at Columbia for six years already. That’s four moves, a new house, and two kids worth of time. But I felt it, I knew inside that I needed to stop rushing, because I was going faster than I needed to be. So what did I do?

I ignored it. I went right on racing through school, leaving full sinks of dirty dishes, piles of unsorted messes, baskets of dirty laundry, and attention starved family members in my dust. After all, I was 30! Come on, that’s just… too old. I hired a nanny for my last semester, pulled up my boot straps, and dived in head first to finish the race I had started so long ago. Now I know that most people would be cheering me along, “no pain, no gain!” Or “sacrifice for a better future!” And I heard it all. People were rooting for me and excited for my final semester.

Three weeks in, I stared at myself in the mirror, with my acne covered, greasy haired, dark circled, tired face, and asked God why Columbia has always been so hard for me. Why did I not have peace there? Why did I forget who I was? How did I so easily forget my reflection every day?

Because Columbia wasn’t easy for me. I felt alone, i didn’t fit in with the photo kids, I wasn’t inspiring, inspired, I felt like I had nothing to offer. I was insecure and soft spoken. I wasn’t me. And that day in the mirror, I heard one question:

“Are you in My will?”

When God asks a question, He isn’t unaware of the answer. The answer isn’t for His sake.

The full-steam-ahead engine finally broke down that day. And all I could do was repent. Because I knew. I had known for a long time. So that day I told God that I wanted His will. And that semester I was told “two years”.

That’s all.

Wait, two years what?

Sure, I had an idea, I knew deep down what two years meant. But I didn’t fully understand it.

So here I am, six months after graduation, loans kicking in, diploma framed in my office, and no sign of a green light from God to go out and get a job. Now, I don’t believe that everyone needs a green light to go out and get a job. But I do. It’s what me and my Father talked about. His will, His plan.

Don’t get me wrong, tons of opportunities have come my way. And I’ve said yes, I’ve jumped aboard, I’ve planned ahead for the future. And every single door has closed in my face. Some the night before, some weeks after starting, some never took off.

Each disappointing “No” leaves me restless, seeking God’s arms, and each time He tells me the same thing, wait.

But the funny thing about God is that He never just leaves you there, His voice is still there, it’s just quieter. Not very long ago, God brought me to this verse as I was asking Him what to do while I wait:

Psalm 1:1-3

Blessed is the man    who walks not in the counsel of the wicked, nor stands in the way of sinners,    nor sits in the seat of scoffers; 2 but his delight is in the law of the Lord,    and on his law he meditates day and night.

3 He is like a tree    planted by streams of water that yields its fruit in its season,    and its leaf does not wither. In all that he does, he prospers.

Verse 3 is pretty much the anthem of my life, I’ve had it taped to my mirror for two years now.  It’s one of those sentences that you read over and over, and it doesn’t quite stick, but you can’t move on, no matter how hard you try. All I knew was that I wanted to be the one who is like a tree, planted; that was my longing.

I never grasped it’s context though, because the one who is like a tree is the one who’s delight is in the law of the Lord, who meditates on it day and night. I was always missing those first verses, and those verses are key.

Ok God, I read you loud and clear. I will wait, in you I will delight, in your Word I will find life.

It’s not easy, waiting, sitting around asking God why other people can just jump and follow their dreams, why they don’t have to second guess, why they don’t have to wait. I am watching my friends careers blow up, I’m rejoicing in their successes and seeing their hard work produce bountiful fruit. They’re not sitting around asking God if they can, they just do.

God should I send out my resume? No.

God should I look for work on the weekends? No.

God should I be updating my site and promoting myself? No.

One night I was up until midnight trying to update my website to include photography from weddings and events I had photographed. My plan was to apply to a Wedding photography company; their site said that I pick my hours and work as much as I want. Perfect! As I was changing the entire layout of my website, my daughter woke up. She had a nightmare and wouldn’t settle back down. She was hysterical and I stood in her room with her for an hour until she fell back asleep.

And then I heard God say,

“You need to be waiting.”

I wasn’t waiting, I was planning, I was preparing, I was getting ready, I was applying. But not waiting.

But we need more income God.

“Wait.”

But I can work, I want to work.

“Wait.”

But none of this makes sense!

“Wait.”

Sigh. Fine. I’m coming to realize that I really suck at waiting. I’m kind of a brat actually. But at the end of the day, if God says wait, why should I be afraid? Every fear I have comes from an external source: I’m too old, everyone is so successful already, I don’t even have a foot in the door, my life looks so boring, I’ve achieved nothing compared to everyone else, I need more money to buy stuff… did I mention that I want more money?

But inside, when I meditate on God’s word, and sit with Him to talk, I feel free. I don’t have all of these external problems. I’m assured and confident in God’s promises and His word in my life.

In 1 Samuel 16 it says:

11 Then Samuel said to Jesse, “Are all your sons here?” And he said, “There remains yet the youngest, but behold, he is keeping the sheep.”

When God anoints David to be king, he is the smallest of his family, he is most likely the weakest of his brothers because it was very common for the weaker family members to tend to the sheep. But he is also not even considered. Jesse doesn’t think for a moment to go call in his younger son, because surely it can’t be him. But there’s more in this small sentence that God wanted me to know.

One writer put it like this, “David was out tending to the livelihood of his family.”

David was making sure that his family’s livelihood was secured, protected, and tended to… that’s me. That’s what I’m doing. Those words were for me. And God was confirming that I am right where I need to be.

My family needs me.

We are in a place in history where self comes before all others, where we give our talents, our callings, and our gifts precedence over even our children, and definitely over our marriages, because God gave us this and we can’t just sit on it. We have to reach the nations, we have to sacrifice even our mothers and sons, our calling is too great. I’m too creative, I must work, I can’t live without doing this, insert any other phrase that we so commonly use when excusing our absence in our family’s life.

And what did David do after he was anointed as king?

He kept right on tending to the sheep, until King Saul called him to play an instrument that would soothe his tormented soul. David didn’t jump into kingship. He had to wait. About 20 years actually, until he was finally King over all of Israel.

And that’s about as far as I am in this waiting period, and David’s waiting period. I plan to write through this season of my life, and if it goes somewhere, or not, that’s OK. I will simply plant myself next to the stream of living water, and let fruit grow in it’s season.

That’s my whole plan, that’s all I am sure of.

David wrote a big part of the psalms in the bible and as I read through his own words while he waited, I am relieved to know that I am not the first person who has experienced God’s plan through waiting.

Psalm 27: 13-14

My daughter doesn’t like it when I’m too affectionate with her. It stunts her independence so she squirms like a wiggly worn out of my grasp if I hold on for a moment too long.

She was born independent, came out sunny side up just because she wanted to. Her lungs were filled with fluid as she laid on the small table with a quiet but determined nurse by her side and we had no idea something was very wrong. That’s how independent she is, wouldn’t let us fight her first battle with her. Had to do it on her own.

And you haven’t heard a war cry until you’ve tried to do something for Annabelle that she thinks she can do on her own. You might as well tie her to a rock and throw her in the ocean if you dare zip up her sweater, she’d prefer the former. She is strong and fierce and confident beyond learned behavior.

I like to think that all of those Single & Independent songs written by Beyoncé, or the countless other “strong female” archetypes in music, were written with annabelle as their muse. She probably, if born in the right era, would’ve single handed-ly started the feminist movement because she hates people opening doors for her. “I could do it!”

And you should see her when she’s sick, she transforms from a tip toed gymnast into an iron beast. Once, she threw up at least a dozen times, and each time as her throat lurched and prepared for the rancid ejection, she stared at me, locked eye to eye, head held high, as sour hot liquid spewed from her mouth. She didn’t shed a tear or grip fiercely to the sides of the bucket like her older brother, she just sat straight up, straight faced, as her stomach rejected whatever poison tainted her little body. My daughter is resilient.

But, unknown to many, she has this little spot under her chin, it’s very tricky to find, and if you get it wrong you won’t get a second chance. It’s plump and squishy and just about the softest skin she’s got; located right in the shadow of her neck. It’s her sweet spot. And there’s only one who’s aim is always right, who knows just the right moment and just the right place to reach out and poke this hyper-sensitive Achilles heel of a spot; to elicit the most joyful of squeals and hearty laughs known to man. Who never falters and never fails.

Her daddy.

She is strong but He is stronger. Her yells are thunderous, but His quiet calm is louder. She bolts away quickly when filled with anger, but His giant arms grab quicker. And she wrestles and struggles and kicks and fights, but His massive arms hold her small frame tighter, His grasp just right. He never hurts her, His aim is to calm, not quench, as He settles her down even in the wildest of rages. His words speak sternly but His eyes love adoringly. Because He is proud and amused by her young untamed roaring fire.