"A Few Good Years"

My dear sweet boy,

This is it.  In some ways today is the day we've been working towards your whole life: the first day of kindergarten.  At the risk of sounding melodramatic (wonder where you get that), it truly is.  Today is the day Daddy and I set you on a course of education and learning and growth in the hands of others who will help prepare you for the purposes God has for you.

And while I relate in so many ways to Hannah who waited and wept and prayed until she was finally blessed with Samuel, I do realize that dropping you off at James Island Christian School for 6 1/2 hours a day at age five does not compare with handing you over to a priest at age three.  While she only got to see her sweet Samuel once a year, I get to whisk you off to a special treat with the first of your "Ice Cream Fund" from Grandma this very afternoon.  Nevertheless, the fact that Hannah wanted and waited and hoped and celebrated as much or more than I have then survived the separation gives me great hope not only for today, but for the further distances you'll go over the next fifteen years and beyond... sleep overs, fishing trips, camps, mission trips, college, then who knows where.  If Hannah could do it at age three in one fell swoop, I can do this.

Of course, even more helpful than the story of Hannah has to be your recent transformation from trepidation and uncertainty to pure excitement and joy at the prospect of kindergarten.  You've gone from grilling me about why we're not homeschooling you and bemoaning the end of our "few good years together,"  to bouncing off the walls and practically wishing away your last day of summer in anticipation of today.

All that is not to say that I'm handling this particularly "well" as Daddy can attest -- I don't think he knew what to think when he came out of your room last night to find me weeping on the couch. Nor do I deny that I have tried to find work-arounds.  I realized though that if God only stilled the sun for a day for Joshua and set it back 10 steps for Hezekiah, I didn't really have much of a chance of waking up in the wee hours of August 14, 2012 rather than August 14, 2014 as I secretly hoped.

Thankfully, though we have been tremendously blessed to find you a wonderful school full of administration and teachers who are committed to loving you and helping you become the man God created you to be. And amazingly they are open to all the "help" Mommy wants to provide, so if my volunteering and subbing plans come together you may not get the chance to miss me much at all (though I assure you Daddy will make me stop short "stalking").  In fact, I am so grateful for Mr. Schwartz and Mr. Philpott and Miss Cuthbert and everyone else we've met at JICS, that it almost makes up for the fact that I'm going to have to share you with them.

I promise to let you grow up if you promise to keep sharing every thought that crosses your mind as long as possible and let me smother you with love from time to time (I will try to keep the public displays to a minimum, though...and refrain from to many "Sweeties" and "Babies" within ear shot of your friends.)  Deal?

Sweet Charlie, God has blessed Daddy and me in so very many ways throughout our whole lives, but without a doubt you are our favorite blessing.  Since that July day back in 2008 when we first saw your little heartbeat you have been our delight.  You are joy and laughter and wisdom and hope and silliness and truth, and we pray that as you learn and grow and mature you will "Choose Honor" (Romans 12:10) as the 2014-2015 school year theme will teach and share your light with everyone around you.

All my love,
Charlie's Mom

Grandpa

My dear boy,

Today is a tough day.  In truth, today is the culmination of a month of tough days, and I'm not really sure how you're going to do. 

Grandpa passed away March 28, and you understood that far beyond Dad's and my expectations which made us both happy and sad.  I am so grateful that you and Grandpa were able to develop such a strong relationship in your five short years, but I am so terribly sorry for your pain in losing him.

We've told you that today we're going to celebrate Grandpa, which is true, but I worry that when you see the pain and loss in others today your poor heart may break again.  I trust that with time and love God will help Daddy and me to put it back together, but I dearly hope today is not too hard for you.

As the years pass, I don't know how much you'll remember of this time, but I want to make sure you understand the love and support we have received from so many people as Grandpa was fighting the cancer, as I was traveling back and forth to Texas, and as we are all mourning his loss. 

Below are the words I hope to speak at his memorial this evening in an effort to share our sincere gratitude to everyone who has cared for us.  We are truly loved, my dear boy.

Imagine someone takes you to a party.  You see a few friends there, enjoy a couple of good conversations, a little laughter, and some decent appetizers.  The party's all right, but you keep hoping it will get better.  Give it another hour, and maybe it will.  Suddenly, your friend says, "I need to take you home."

Now?

You're disappointed -- nobody wants to leave a party early -- but you leave, and your friend drops you off at your house.  As you approach the door, you're feeling all alone and sorry for yourself.  As you open the door and reach for the light switch, you sense someone's there.  Your heart's in your throat.  Your flip on the light.

"Surprise!"  Your house is full of smiling people, familiar faces.

It's a party -- for you.  You smell your favorites -- barbecued ribs and [rhubarb] pie right out of the oven.  The tables are full.  It's a feast.  You recognize the guests, people you haven't seen for a long time.  Then, one by one, the people you most enjoyed at the other party show up at your house, grinning.  This turns out to be the real party.  You realize that if you'd stayed longer at the other party, as you'd wanted, you wouldn't be at the real party -- you'd be away from it.

Christians faced with terminal illness or imminent death often feel they're leaving the party before it's over.  They have to go home early.   They're disappointed, thinking of all they'll miss when they leave.  But the truth is, the real party is underway at home -- precisely where they're going.  They're not the ones missing the party; those of us left behind are.  (Fortunately, if we know Jesus, we'll get there eventually.)

One by one, occasionally a few of us at a time, we'll disappear from this world.  Those we leave behind will grieve that their loved ones have left home.  In reality, however, their believing loved ones aren't leaving home, they're going home.  They'll be home before us.  We'll be arriving at the party a little later.

As you can imagine, the Biblical truth behind this metaphor from Randy Alcorn's book Heaven, has given many of us comfort over the past weeks as we strive to understand and live with our great loss. 

But you all have provided even greater comfort.  Mom, Chris, Angie, our families and I would like to thank all of you for your kindness, love and support over the past year and a half, and especially the past few weeks.

Many of you had a greater understanding of what we were and would be going through than we did -- thank you for propping us up.

Many of you have offered countless prayers on our behalf, and as James says, "the effective prayer of a righteous man can accomplish much."  Through your prayers and God's grace and mercy, our family was able to come together physically, emotionally and spiritually to minister to Dad in his last days.  Through your prayers even he was able to find peace in the knowledge that all of his days were written in the book of the God who created the heavens and the earth.

And the rest of us are able to continue to find peace in the truth of heaven and the hope that Dad is already there,  in the presence of Jesus Christ, our Savior, along with his mom, dad, cousins, friends and fellow soldiers who went before him.

Thank you for praying for us as we embark into this unknown world, temporarily separated from our Danny...my Dad.

And now we ask that you join us in an earthly celebration of Dad's life -- barbecue of course -- as he enjoys the real celebration in heaven, but first, our prayer for each of you is that

                The Lord bless you and keep you;

                the Lord make his face to shine upon you and be gracious to you;

                the Lord lift up his countenance upon you and give you peace. (Numbers 6:24-27)

Your Grandpa
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=VbTn2XUp1Bc

The Faith of a Child

A few moments ago I called home to check on my boys and make sure Charlie knew that I loved him and was thinking him even when I'm away...

Charlie: Good morning, Mommy!
Mommy:  Good morning!  How are you?
Charlie: Good.
Mommy:  What are you doing?
Charlie: Watching Wild Kratts!  On the iPad!  In Daddy's bed!
Mommy: Wow, that is special.
Charlie: And this is the second Wild Kratts today!
Mommy:  What a special day!
Charlie: Yep!  Just me and Daddy for two whole days!
Mommy: Are you a little bit excited?
Charlie: A little bit?!  Are you crazy?  We have big plans!
Jason: We do?  What are those plans?
Charlie: I don't know. [Grinning ear to ear] You haven't told me yet.



The perfect reminder at the perfect time.


 

Dream Come True

It's no secret that becoming a stay-at-home-home was not a choice that Jason and I made.  Almost two years ago I was laid off from my job and in three months of looking unable to find another that allowed us to keep the family/work balance that was so important to us...so I became a SAHM.

Even though unplanned, it was something I wanted very much, though.  In fact, just a few weeks prior to the layoff while on a vacation in Kansas City I caught a glimpse of what I imagined to be the everyday joy of staying home during a leisurely walk with Charlie around the lake.  We had no deadline, no responsibilities, no bounds other than our imaginations and energy.  In fact, the moment was so perfect that I even took a picture of "the dream"--as I saw it. I longed for that carefree time with my son, but didn't see any hope of it becoming our daily life.

Thankfully God did,  and within 6 weeks I was unemployed.  Of course, life wasn't exactly carefree.  I still had the responsibilities of looking for a job, keeping the house clean, feeding us all, making sure Charlie had social interactions and the deadlines of mealtimes and rest times and chores... and of course the stress of a single income.  It wasn't quite what I had imagined, but over time we have adapted and come to love our new life.

Twenty-two moths later, God threw us another (albeit smaller) curve ball. I had all sorts of indoor activities planned for today due to a rainy forecast -- I was even going to repaint my badly-chipped toe nails during our rainy day movie -- but the rain dried up by 9:30 and the sun came out.  There was no way we could waste this weather indoors, so I decided that the quick trip I needed to make to Harris Teeter would become our adventure.

We got dressed, found our backpacks, locked up the dogs, jumped on Charlie's bike and took off...only to turn around as soon as we got to the greenway due to a flat front tire.  So, we came back switched the bike for the easy roller and set off again.  After 4 lengths of walking path, a handful of threats and one collision between the easy roller and my ankle, we finally made it to the store, bought our groceries and set off again -- 26 lbs. heavier (what's a girl to do when Chardonnay and her annual corned beef are on sale??).

About halfway home we saw a little boy and his dad walking through the baseball field towards the greenway.  Separated by the creek, Charlie hollered to him, "Hi!  I'm Charlie!  What's your name."

After a quick glance at his dad the boy yelled, "Ben!"

Charlie responded, "It's nice to meet you!  Where are you going?"

Ben replied, "My dad's house.  His car is broken."

So Charlie asked, "Up for a race?"  And still separated by the creek, Charlie started speed-scooting, and Ben took off running. 

Thankfully, both boys stopped at the road, where they became fast friends.  After crossing to the next path, the race was back on.  Then once they reached Sunset Drive about 100 yards ahead of me and the dad who was a ways behind me, Charlie invited Ben to try out his easy roller. 

Alas, this was Ben's street, so following a ridiculously mature farewell, ("It was sure nice to meet you."  "You, too.  Have a nice day!"), Ben was gone.  Were this a movie, the boys would soon cross paths again, become best friends and one would likely give the other a kidney or save the other from a burning building, but since Ben was with his dad, not his mom, I couldn't really suggest a play date and with Charlie going to JICC next year, they may never even meet again.

Of course, one block later we crossed paths with a little girl on a scooter to whom Charlie yelled, "Hi!  I've got wheels, too!" to her mother's delight, so I don't think I have to worry about him making friends.

And through it all, we eventually made it home with all 26 pounds of groceries (I weighed them!), and I realized that my dream from that long ago May day has come true in every possible way.  We have the life I had hoped for even though it seemed completely out of reach at the time.

To be clear, my time as a stay at home mom has brought many more "valuable" experiences like our Bible lessons, days at the plantation and Children's Museum with friends, learning to read, piano lessons, lunches with Daddy, along with weeks of frustration, arguments, back-talk, spankings and more.  But I truly believe that when I look back years from now, I will treasure the freedom and spontaneity and the time most of all.

A bunch of lies...

Sometimes (ok...most of the time) I would rather just sit on the couch than go be social.  Yesterday was one of those times, but in an effort to make more mom friends at church I badgered myself into attending the first Women's Night against my will...and thank God I did. 

I didn't meet any new moms, but I did get to know one a lot better -- myself.  Through a truly inspired sermon from our pastor, my eyes were opened to some of the lies that I hold to as truth.

Now, as a Christian lady I have read books (and even gifted them to others) about lies women believe -- good books in fact -- and had you asked me yesterday afternoon what lies I fall for, I would have smiled kindly and assured you that I am steeped in truth.  Maybe I should add that one to the list...

Pastor Russ pointed out that all sin is based on one lie or another.  If you go back to Genesis 3, the serpent convinced Adam and Eve that eating of the Tree of Knowledge was better than the Tree of Life -- that knowing good from evil was better than eternal life!  And they believed it, and we all know how well that has turned out.

But I consider myself a fairly smart lady and sitting among those women last night, I was confident at first that this message was for "them" until I learned how to identify my lies -- or more precisely the ideas/beliefs/convictions I cling to in place of God's truth:

1. What do I daydream about?
2. Where do I spend my money?
3. What have I prayed for and not received?
4. What issues/situations cause me uncontrollable emotion?
5. When am I most prone to give advice to others? (aka...where do I feel wise?)

Gradually over the past 12 hours I have realized that smart cookie that I am, I believe a lot of lies and in an effort to face them and exchange them for truth here they are in the order in which they occurred to me:

1. I have to be thin to be worth loving - by myself or anyone else
2. I am "less blessed" than women with lots of kids - Per my unscientific research, the standard number of children in evangelical Christian families is four.  We have one, and based on the fact that he is extremely secure in our love for him but still tells us we are the meanest parents in the world fairly regularly, I believe we are doing a fairly good job -- so clearly, God has just decided to bless us less than all those families with more kids.
3. I don't really have to love my enemies or even my neighbors in spite of what the Bible says -- tolerating them is enough. -  To love them would be to invest myself in their lives, their physical, emotional and especially spiritual health, and that is a lot to ask, right?
4. I'm so much more (or less) mature in my Christian walk than whoever is in front of me - I mean, I read my Bible daily, so I've got this Christian thing down compared to X, but wow, Y just quoted all of Ephesians 2 by memory -- she is so much better than me.
5. It's ok to put myself first - After all God loves me, so do I really need to put His commands to pray without ceasing, hide His Word in my heart, help my husband, raise up my child or love my neighbor ahead of my own comfort, desires, interests, etc?

Yes, I know better for each and every one, but deep down I really do believe them. 

So what now?  Do I stage an intervention with myself, gain 20 pounds and stand in front of the mirror repeating that I love myself?  Do I bake cookies and take them to all the people who annoy me?  Do I become a martyr and never do anything I enjoy so I know that I'm not putting myself first?

Most importantly, do I beat myself up for being so gullible?  No -- after all, Eve was considerably wiser than I am when the serpent tricked her -- she hadn't been degraded by a sin nature and a life of various sins --  yet still she believed that knowledge was more important than life and that God had mislead her.

In truth, I don't really know how eliminate these lies from my life, but I know it's not something I can do by hard work or strength of will or meditation or what have you.  The only cure for lies is truth.

So I will continue to read my Bible and pray to my God who created me, saved me and knows every hair on my head (the red and the white) that He will open my heart to push out these nasty lies and replace them with His truth...and then show me more lies and replace them with more truth...and so forth.

For the word of God is living and active, sharper than any two-edged sword, piercing to the division of soul and spirit, of joints and of marrow, and discerning the thoughts and intentions of the heart. (Hebrews 4:12)


In other words,  I will press on toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus. (Philippians 3:14)

Are You My Mother?

A lot has happened in our lives over the past 6 months...trips hither and yon, house guests, new sports, new friends, inches grown, and so much more, but I think I will always remember Charlie's 4 year old fall and winter as the time when we tackled reading, cried, ranted, celebrated breaks and almost fell apart.

Don't get me wrong, there have been a couple high points -- when he's made small strides, but overall the experience has been painful for both of us, and I'm not sure who was more relieved when we finally finished the daily reading lessons the day before we left for Christmas in Kansas City.

But after a blissful break, I realized that unless I tied him to a chair and forced him to keep practicing, Charlie would likely forget all he'd learned long before kindergarten.  A good friend in KC advised me to just trade off reading pages of his favorite books.  To me this was an epiphany -- but both my mom and Jason's mom responded with slowly nodding "yeahs" when I shared the wonderful advice -- clearly it is common sense to more "advanced" moms.

Anyway, right after New Year's I had Charlie pick a book for the first day.  He picked Nate the Great.  A children's book, yes -- a good story, yes -- a fun read, yes -- but the crazy thing is 80 pages.  It might as well have chapters.  Stubborn as always, we started it...and as of our impromptu trip to El Paso last week, were about 75% the way through.

In an act completely out of character for me, this morning I suggested that Charlie choose a new book for us to continue our reading.  He picked...Are You My Mother?  -- a 72 page book!  I'm not sure he recognized the big issue with good old Nate.

Thankfully, these pages had much fewer words, and I even agreed to read the longer of each set of pages (again, I am sure this sounds like common sense to most moms, but in addition to cluelessness, I apparently have a bit of tyrant in me).

So we began to read...right before nap...worst time of the day...and Charlie started to smile.  After his second page he said, "This is fun."  After his fourth or fifth he said in a quiet voice, "I am a reader."  Then close to the end he said, "I am a reader!!"  And after I had him read the last (long) page, he tackled me and laughed.

Before today he has recognized letters, translated letters into sounds, put sounds into words and words into thoughts and ideas, but I think that just maybe today he took that giant leap.  I think that just maybe today he loved it!

P.S.  I just reread the entry from Dec 5.  Apparently I have thought we'd cleared this hurdle before...oh well!  I'm still going to enjoy his joy and hope for the best!