The Bible is clear about this one thing - God wants us to come to Him like children with the kind of pure, unaldulterated faith they have. There have got to be some limits, though. For example, what about when The Kid prays for snow on one of the hottest days we've had in months?
I gently explained we could not pray for snow because it would not happen on that day. His reply, "You won't know until you pray for it!"
I believe he may be right....maybe I'll pray for a beach in my backyard!
Monday, February 26, 2007
The One(s) That Got Away
Saturday was a great day for the child in our house. He had a birthday party to attend at Pizza Inn - friends, pizza, and games - it doesn't get any better than that for a 5 year old boy!
When it was time to leave the party, he was trying desperately to untie the balloon from the back of his chair. Every grownup around him was trying to talk him into a different balloon. But he had become attached to his red one. The fact that it was deflating and dragging on the ground as a result only seemed to endear him more to his balloon. He would not be talked into leaving without it! A well-meaning dad, however, convinced him that he needed a perky yellow balloon as well. As long as he had the red one, additional helium-filled balloons could only make life better as far as he was concerned. So while I carried the treat bag and leftover pizza box, he walked out the door with a balloon tied to each wrist.
As fate would have it, the wind was fierce on this party day. The little red balloon never had a chance! The wind whipped it right off the end of its curly string and, because it had lost most of its life already, it bounced on the ground right out into the parking lot. Then it scooted right under a moving 4X4 pickup truck, and continued across the pavement and up over a small hill, oblivious to the fact that its owner was totally grief-stricken and already mourning the lost life of his "friend."
All the child could do was cry - that heartbreaking, my-life-is-over kind of cry - the kind of cry that makes a mom want to run out in front of moving vehicles to rescue an inanimate object whose lifespan was already doomed.
Then a friend of the child came out with his own perky yellow balloon. That sweet boy and his dad offered words of encouragement to little avail. Then the friend, somehow knowing just what was needed, gave to my child his own balloon. Through his tears, the child expressed his gratitude to his friend and then carefully, protectively walked with his 2 perky yellow ballons to the van.
We travelled back towards home, making a couple of stops along the way. At stop #1, I needed to load some things into the van. As soon as I opened the door, one balloon was swept out by that vicious wind. The boy was so sad. He was sure that if I went back to the pizza place, they would give him another balloon. Using my limited command of psychology, he survived the second balloon loss of the day and decided that one good balloon was better than none at all.
Well that lone balloon survived the next few errands of the day with no close calls. and believe me, I was paying close attention to it. The last stop of the day lasted a longer while than the others. When it came time to leave, I opened the van door wide enough for the child and 3 cousins to load up. As I was checking seatbelts, the 3 year old cousin began to point to the sky. Obviously he saw something in the distance he wanted everyone else to see, too. So the eyes of all kids in the van obliged. Now all moms know that the only floating balloon a child enjoys is the one lost or released by someone else. The owner of the balloon is seldom amused.
What is it with balloons? They pop,deflate, or fly away way too soon. Their extremely short lifespans make them NOT the best toys for kids. My new great idea is to try to convince moms everywhere to agree to stop doing balloons a birthday parties. I will if you will...............
When it was time to leave the party, he was trying desperately to untie the balloon from the back of his chair. Every grownup around him was trying to talk him into a different balloon. But he had become attached to his red one. The fact that it was deflating and dragging on the ground as a result only seemed to endear him more to his balloon. He would not be talked into leaving without it! A well-meaning dad, however, convinced him that he needed a perky yellow balloon as well. As long as he had the red one, additional helium-filled balloons could only make life better as far as he was concerned. So while I carried the treat bag and leftover pizza box, he walked out the door with a balloon tied to each wrist.
As fate would have it, the wind was fierce on this party day. The little red balloon never had a chance! The wind whipped it right off the end of its curly string and, because it had lost most of its life already, it bounced on the ground right out into the parking lot. Then it scooted right under a moving 4X4 pickup truck, and continued across the pavement and up over a small hill, oblivious to the fact that its owner was totally grief-stricken and already mourning the lost life of his "friend."
All the child could do was cry - that heartbreaking, my-life-is-over kind of cry - the kind of cry that makes a mom want to run out in front of moving vehicles to rescue an inanimate object whose lifespan was already doomed.
Then a friend of the child came out with his own perky yellow balloon. That sweet boy and his dad offered words of encouragement to little avail. Then the friend, somehow knowing just what was needed, gave to my child his own balloon. Through his tears, the child expressed his gratitude to his friend and then carefully, protectively walked with his 2 perky yellow ballons to the van.
We travelled back towards home, making a couple of stops along the way. At stop #1, I needed to load some things into the van. As soon as I opened the door, one balloon was swept out by that vicious wind. The boy was so sad. He was sure that if I went back to the pizza place, they would give him another balloon. Using my limited command of psychology, he survived the second balloon loss of the day and decided that one good balloon was better than none at all.
Well that lone balloon survived the next few errands of the day with no close calls. and believe me, I was paying close attention to it. The last stop of the day lasted a longer while than the others. When it came time to leave, I opened the van door wide enough for the child and 3 cousins to load up. As I was checking seatbelts, the 3 year old cousin began to point to the sky. Obviously he saw something in the distance he wanted everyone else to see, too. So the eyes of all kids in the van obliged. Now all moms know that the only floating balloon a child enjoys is the one lost or released by someone else. The owner of the balloon is seldom amused.
What is it with balloons? They pop,deflate, or fly away way too soon. Their extremely short lifespans make them NOT the best toys for kids. My new great idea is to try to convince moms everywhere to agree to stop doing balloons a birthday parties. I will if you will...............
Sunday, February 25, 2007
Not Kidstuff...
There are just some things kids should never have to know or think about. I'm thinking of things like how much the house note is, how we're going to pay for the car repairs, why otherwise good people do bad things, and that there are people in life who will let you down. Kids ought to get to be kids and worry only about things like where to get mud when it hasn't rained for days, how to talk mom into chocolate instead of green beans for supper, and how long a lego structure can be saved before someone knocks it down.
Lately, I've met too many kids who have to worry about big things like rejection, being ignored by a parent, abuse, neglect, and plain old fear of people who should be people they can count on. One of them lives in my house. As he faces and deals with such "big boy" stuff, it is becoming more and more difficult to speak about loving forgiveness for grownups who do things that even this 5 year old child knows are not so smart.
If I am certain of anything in life, it is this.....nothing happens to a Child of God by accident; nothing suprises Him, catches Him off guard, or causes Him to second-guess Himself. I am sure of the victory that will be His. I am sure that the last word belongs to Him. And I am sure that somehow the yukkiness of life will be used for good in the lives of these kids.
I just want to know how and why and when......and I want to know it now! But I'm working on waiting.............maybe I'll get it someday. I just hope it won't be too late!
Lately, I've met too many kids who have to worry about big things like rejection, being ignored by a parent, abuse, neglect, and plain old fear of people who should be people they can count on. One of them lives in my house. As he faces and deals with such "big boy" stuff, it is becoming more and more difficult to speak about loving forgiveness for grownups who do things that even this 5 year old child knows are not so smart.
If I am certain of anything in life, it is this.....nothing happens to a Child of God by accident; nothing suprises Him, catches Him off guard, or causes Him to second-guess Himself. I am sure of the victory that will be His. I am sure that the last word belongs to Him. And I am sure that somehow the yukkiness of life will be used for good in the lives of these kids.
I just want to know how and why and when......and I want to know it now! But I'm working on waiting.............maybe I'll get it someday. I just hope it won't be too late!
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Family
Family…a little word with so much packed into it. In that one word is all the love, protection, security, what’s-mine-is-yours, I’ll-fight-for-you-and-I know-you’ll-fight-for-me stuff a person could ever want or need. At the very same time, thoughts of family can conjure up more sadness, hurt, disappointment, and heartache than could ever happen anywhere else.
I know from 50+ years of experience that my hugest cheerleaders come from the group of people I call my family. I know, also from experience, that the people who can hurt me the deepest (or be hurt by me) come from that same exact group of people. I am sure God knew what He was doing when He created and ordained family (although I wondered about that more than once during the years of sharing a bedroom with younger sisters)….He knew if we could work out life there, we could do it anywhere. He knew that these would be ones whose love we would both cherish and stomp on in the same day. He knew that if we could learn to love these people while living in tight quarters with them, that we would somehow be better equipped for life in general. He knew that living with these people would be the perfect place to practice unconditional love, seventy-times-seven kind of forgiveness, unmerited grace, and goodness whether deserved or not.
So is that all family is…a training camp of sorts? I say NO! It’s that place where “for better or worse,” we dare to be ourselves while, at the same time, we are stretching to be better selves. It is the place where people see that “better self” long before it may appear in public. And in that place, the people who love us respond to us based on their love for us, not the way we treated them, what was withheld from them, or even how we ignored them while looking for love and attention elsewhere.
Family – my life is rich and meaningful because of mine, and I’m willing to bet that there are more treasures waiting to be discovered.
P.S. I wrote these words following a family reunion held a few weeks ago. It was attended by my two sisters (one on furlough from Latvia), one of my two brothers, our spouses, our kids and a couple of grandkids. It was all in honor of and especially for my mom.
I know from 50+ years of experience that my hugest cheerleaders come from the group of people I call my family. I know, also from experience, that the people who can hurt me the deepest (or be hurt by me) come from that same exact group of people. I am sure God knew what He was doing when He created and ordained family (although I wondered about that more than once during the years of sharing a bedroom with younger sisters)….He knew if we could work out life there, we could do it anywhere. He knew that these would be ones whose love we would both cherish and stomp on in the same day. He knew that if we could learn to love these people while living in tight quarters with them, that we would somehow be better equipped for life in general. He knew that living with these people would be the perfect place to practice unconditional love, seventy-times-seven kind of forgiveness, unmerited grace, and goodness whether deserved or not.
So is that all family is…a training camp of sorts? I say NO! It’s that place where “for better or worse,” we dare to be ourselves while, at the same time, we are stretching to be better selves. It is the place where people see that “better self” long before it may appear in public. And in that place, the people who love us respond to us based on their love for us, not the way we treated them, what was withheld from them, or even how we ignored them while looking for love and attention elsewhere.
Family – my life is rich and meaningful because of mine, and I’m willing to bet that there are more treasures waiting to be discovered.
P.S. I wrote these words following a family reunion held a few weeks ago. It was attended by my two sisters (one on furlough from Latvia), one of my two brothers, our spouses, our kids and a couple of grandkids. It was all in honor of and especially for my mom.
Monday, February 12, 2007
"I Can't Want To..."
These words are used several times a day by my precious grandson Johnathan – anytime he doesn’t want to do what is being asked of him.
I have found myself thinking these same words - more than once since he was last here. The truth is if we are going to be honest, we all probably do many things each day while, in our heart of hearts, we are saying, “I can’t want to do this!”
For example……
The toilet needs swished……I can’t want to!
The 5 baskets of clean laundry need folded and put away……I can’t want to!
The kitchen floor needs mopped – again……I can’t want to!
The dog needs a bath….I really can’t want to!
The rabbit cage needs cleaned out (still!)……I can’t want to!
For example……
The toilet needs swished……I can’t want to!
The 5 baskets of clean laundry need folded and put away……I can’t want to!
The kitchen floor needs mopped – again……I can’t want to!
The dog needs a bath….I really can’t want to!
The rabbit cage needs cleaned out (still!)……I can’t want to!
You get the idea…Try it out! It sounds a whole lot better than saying “No!” “Not now!” “You can’t make me!”
P.S. The caption for the photo: "I can't want to be clean!" (Johnathan and Austin LOVE the garden and its piles of great dirt!)
I Am Loved!
Today we were having a casual frontseat/backseat conversation when Austin, comparing me to some other woman, said to me, “Momma, you are the most beautiful woman in the world. No wait, (long pause) yeah, you are the most beautiful woman in the world!”
(By the way, I remember feeling the same way about my own mom – in fact, I think I still do!)
As we were leaving church later on, we were busy chatting about random things when, in response to something I said, he said, “Momma, you don’t have much brains. But don’t worry, you’re still beautiful.”
Then, in the car again – another one of those great frontseat/backseat conversations – in response to my compliments about his behavior in church, he said, “Momma, if there wasn’t something about safety, I’d jump out of my seatbelt and give you the biggest hug!” (I’m thinking - seatbelts are overrated sometimes.)
This was followed by another precious exchange:
A: Is one hundred thousand a number?
Me: Yep, it’s a big number. I’d like to have one hundred thousand pennies,
A: Well, I can’t help you out there. I don’t have that much money in my room. How about one hundred thousand kisses?
Wow, who needs fame and fortune? Not me! I’ve got a five year old boy!
(By the way, I remember feeling the same way about my own mom – in fact, I think I still do!)
As we were leaving church later on, we were busy chatting about random things when, in response to something I said, he said, “Momma, you don’t have much brains. But don’t worry, you’re still beautiful.”
Then, in the car again – another one of those great frontseat/backseat conversations – in response to my compliments about his behavior in church, he said, “Momma, if there wasn’t something about safety, I’d jump out of my seatbelt and give you the biggest hug!” (I’m thinking - seatbelts are overrated sometimes.)
This was followed by another precious exchange:
A: Is one hundred thousand a number?
Me: Yep, it’s a big number. I’d like to have one hundred thousand pennies,
A: Well, I can’t help you out there. I don’t have that much money in my room. How about one hundred thousand kisses?
Wow, who needs fame and fortune? Not me! I’ve got a five year old boy!
Basketball
Austin plays basketball. Well, he plays as well as any 5 year old who can’t run and dribble at the same time and who is afraid the ball might hurt if it hits him. It’s more accurate to say that Austin plays. He knew none of the other players on his team when he started 3 months ago, but he’s already been invited to their birthday parties and has invited every one of them to come to his house to play. He’s even had conversations with several of their parents – including the dad/coach of a child on the team they scrimmage with! He has learned quite a bit though:
Defense is when you hold your arms up in front of someone!
Offense is when you say “I’m open” – even if you’re not!
When someone falls down, you should stop and check on them. It really doesn't matter which team they are on.
When you are guarding someone, it’s good to get their name and find out when their birthday is.
The coaches on the other team can be your friend, too.
When the buzzer sounds, it could be your turn to sit down.
Cheerleaders are nice, but they really should say your name when they cheer for you!
Popcorn and water are great after-game treats!
When you get something right, it’s good to find mom and dad and give/get a thumbs-up!
Basketball can make you very tired!
If you ever want to make a basket, you have to learn how to bend your knees.
If you take the ball away from someone, they might not like you anymore.
The white star is the best!
His mom has learned a few things, too!
Wearing number 8 for the Panthers, standing at 3 foot-8, is the sweetest blessing a mom could ask for.
It’s good to cheer for the other kids, too.
It’s not right to watch your ipod during practice. All eyes must be on the child!
When it’s your turn for snacks, bring good stuff and, remember, the extras belong to the child!
The child hears your voice over the voices of twenty other parents!
The child depends on your help when trying to figure out which goal is his!
The white star is the best!
Life is too short to worry about who wins and loses. The big winners are the ones who discover that doing their best for Jesus is all that will ever matter! I pray that God will help me remember this when the child does figure out that there are people keeping score.
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