Spiritually, I feel like Jacob must have felt when he wrestled with God. I'm beat.
These last few months have been a mental and emotional wrestling match between me and the Lord. And guess who won?
I have strained my heart and mind looking back, unable to move past the grief of leaving Zambia. Last week after a phone call with a dear friend there, I found myself weeping bitterly and scribbling the incriminating but heartfelt "Why!!!? Lord!" in my journal. With all of my aching soul I wanted to be back there. Not to the no-water, no-electricity moments, necessarily, but to the Zambian people and my missionary family who I love and miss so dearly. And also...I wanted to be back there with Mark. Where our days (and nights) and our work were spent together, hand in hand. My longing for Africa and my longing for him had become entwined.
Somehow I felt that our work as missionaries was...well, a fine thing. Something honorable and beautiful in the daily self-sacrifice of it. And I couldn't convey that to what I am living now. I just felt alone and homesick.
Then one day I looked beside me in church and felt a little tingle because there sat two of the officers' wives who I had invited to come. And they kept coming. And they liked it!
And not long after that one of them actually turned to me after the service and said something like "Hey, Stacey, would you want to lead a bible study for us at your house?". Gee, let me think about it...
The next week I sat in my living room and shared my story of becoming a Christian with two of the wives. They decided to follow Him. Now there are four of us and we meet every week for two hours. We are studying Rick Warren's book The Purpose Driven Life and for the first time they are considering what it means to let God have control. And though I have been a Believer now for about 15 years, I am learning again what SURRENDER really means.
This morning as I read Chapter 10 in preparation for Thursdays study, I was struck with Jesus's words in Luke 9:23:
"If people want to follow me, they must give up the things they want. they must be willing to give up their lives daily to follow me."
I knew what I needed to surrender. The Lord reminded me so sweetly of all He was doing around me. I thought of the three women He had given me to disciple. Each of them so hungry for His word, so eager to learn more...How often in Zambia had I prayed for an opportunity like that (and in my own language no less!)...I remembered that incriminating "Why!!?Lord!" in my journal...Oh how gentle but firm His hand!
So after praying it through I wrote in the margins "I lay down my desire to be back in Zambia, my longing for Mark to be here with me, and all my feelings of inadequacy. From this day forward, I am a slave to Jesus Christ." Then signed it.
I know this laying down our lives is a daily thing.
I will keep having to go back to it and reminding myself. But by His grace and might I will resist picking those things back up.
That doesn't mean I won't still be homesick for Zambia, or that I won't miss Mark and look hopefully for his return.
It means simply that I have surrendered. And it is a sweet relief.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Saturday, March 17, 2007
Homeschool Field Trip
Yesterday we packed a picnic lunch and joined some friends for a homeschool field trip to the Santa Barbara Zoo. It is a smaller zoo but there was plenty to keep the kids interested. Katie kept us all informed with a litany of facts memorized from the Animal Planet!After the first hour, we were ready for a break. The picnic/park area was inviting. We found a shade tree with some tables underneath for our little feast. Then we wrapped up the afternoon by visiting the rest of the animals and the gift shop. You can see our picture to the left -all tuckered out but well-satisfied with out field trip!
Monday, February 12, 2007
In Loving Memory of Grandpa Sutherland
The picture of the guy in the Santa hat is my Dad, (otherwise known as "PopPop" to the grandkids),Mark Wilson Sutherland. Third, last and youngest son of Woodrow and Emma Sutherland.
And to three grown daughters, he is THE best Dad in the world. He is the sure thing, the go-to-guy. He is our rock, our hero, our Dad in every true meaning of the word.
But today, for a moment in time, everything solid and sure and certain for Dad came to a grinding, hurting, shuddering, stop when HIS Dad -Woodrow Wilson Sutherland-quietly and peacefully stepped out of this world and into heaven. He was ninety this year. He lived a long and good life. And in all of Dad's 50-odd years, Grandpa was constantly teaching by word and deed how to be a father, how to cherish and love your children. Dad learned that family is THE most important investment we have in this life. He learned to hug and kiss and never say "goodbye" without saying "I love you" first. He learned to be a man of his word and a keeper of his promises. He learned to work hard and faithfully. And to play often. Because teasing and playing and laughing are really loving.
Grandpa was proud of Dad -equally proud of each of his three children, and yet he made each one feel special and extraordinary. And Grandpa loved Grandma....ever as much as she adored him even as she she let him go ahead of her to heaven. They were best friends. I knew that from the beginning. They shared the same love of the outdoors, the same love of family. The same love of eachother. Seventy years together is a long time. But what makes it truly beautiful is that they only grew closer as they grew older. And despite the pain and discomfort in the end, Grandpa remained kind and gentle. And Grandma made her every act of service for him an act of love and adoration.
As Grandpa died, my sister heard my dad stand tearfully over him and say "Oh, if I could only be half the father he was..."
Well Daddy, I want you to know that you learned well from the best teacher. There are not words to say the sorrow I feel that I cannot be with you today. I want to hug you in one of our family bearhugs -the kind you used to give Grandpa years ago when he was well. I want to hug you and tell you that I love you. But most of all, I want to thank you Dad. Thank you for treasuring those lessons in your heart and living them out in your life.
You made him proud, Dad.
And to three grown daughters, he is THE best Dad in the world. He is the sure thing, the go-to-guy. He is our rock, our hero, our Dad in every true meaning of the word.
But today, for a moment in time, everything solid and sure and certain for Dad came to a grinding, hurting, shuddering, stop when HIS Dad -Woodrow Wilson Sutherland-quietly and peacefully stepped out of this world and into heaven. He was ninety this year. He lived a long and good life. And in all of Dad's 50-odd years, Grandpa was constantly teaching by word and deed how to be a father, how to cherish and love your children. Dad learned that family is THE most important investment we have in this life. He learned to hug and kiss and never say "goodbye" without saying "I love you" first. He learned to be a man of his word and a keeper of his promises. He learned to work hard and faithfully. And to play often. Because teasing and playing and laughing are really loving.
Grandpa was proud of Dad -equally proud of each of his three children, and yet he made each one feel special and extraordinary. And Grandpa loved Grandma....ever as much as she adored him even as she she let him go ahead of her to heaven. They were best friends. I knew that from the beginning. They shared the same love of the outdoors, the same love of family. The same love of eachother. Seventy years together is a long time. But what makes it truly beautiful is that they only grew closer as they grew older. And despite the pain and discomfort in the end, Grandpa remained kind and gentle. And Grandma made her every act of service for him an act of love and adoration.
As Grandpa died, my sister heard my dad stand tearfully over him and say "Oh, if I could only be half the father he was..."
Well Daddy, I want you to know that you learned well from the best teacher. There are not words to say the sorrow I feel that I cannot be with you today. I want to hug you in one of our family bearhugs -the kind you used to give Grandpa years ago when he was well. I want to hug you and tell you that I love you. But most of all, I want to thank you Dad. Thank you for treasuring those lessons in your heart and living them out in your life.
You made him proud, Dad.
Saturday, February 10, 2007
New reality show...maybe
Recently, I read about a new tv series coming out called "Army Wives". Supposedly it is about several wives/families and their often-deployed spouses. A photo of the cast revealed three size 3 "wives" in evening gowns and stilleto heels and their "husbands" standing and sitting around them in full dress uniform- everyone looking very serious and "come hither". Its like having "Knots Landing" at Fort Bragg.
Anyway, it started me thinking what a "Navy Wives" tv series might look like. But I'm afraid I could only invision myself in it and it wasnt too glamorous! My evening gown has yet to come out of the closet (actually, its still on the rack at some store). I DID get an invite to the upcoming SeaBee Ball (missed the big Navy Ball). But since Mark is deployed I thought it would be silly to get all fixed up just to sit around with a bunch of lonely wives all night. Maybe thats a bad attitude. I doubt if they intend to sit around feeling lonely...
Maybe a mini series... it could feature the day to day life of the military wife with her husband deployed...but we would need a lot of makeup and maybe a personal trainer or two. Unless we can get an actress to play me. And I want some child-actors to play my kids. Some that wear fashionable clothes (for tv), no snotty noses (we have allergies), and dont wake their mom up at all hours of the night (because whoever is playing me needs to NOT have these bags under her eyes.). Yes, they definitely need an actress to play my part. I've seen the faces of other wives whose husbands are deployed and they just look too sad. If I look like that then no one will watch this show.
No, it shouldn't be glamorous because that would be fake. It needs to be a reality show. But they probaby should not film the wife trying to trim her own bushes with the electric trimmer (I almost cut my arm off doing that!) and I dont know about filming her carrying out the trash and recycle bins every week...that might be a bit ho-hum for the tv audience. But then so would the endless trips to the commissary. Maybe inside-the-home ...we could have a great scene doing homeschool! They can just edit out the parts where Mom starts pulling her hair out and the kids are crying. It could be really touching if they show the kids getting a Skype call from their Dad (until they start fighting over who sits in front of the camera -oh wait, I forgot! They're actors. So maybe they wont do that...). We could do a span of the inside of the house, just to give people a "feel" for a real military family home... but not until I get it cleaned up in here for goodness sake!
I don't think this tv idea is going to fly. Even I wouldn't watch it!
Anyway, it started me thinking what a "Navy Wives" tv series might look like. But I'm afraid I could only invision myself in it and it wasnt too glamorous! My evening gown has yet to come out of the closet (actually, its still on the rack at some store). I DID get an invite to the upcoming SeaBee Ball (missed the big Navy Ball). But since Mark is deployed I thought it would be silly to get all fixed up just to sit around with a bunch of lonely wives all night. Maybe thats a bad attitude. I doubt if they intend to sit around feeling lonely...
Maybe a mini series... it could feature the day to day life of the military wife with her husband deployed...but we would need a lot of makeup and maybe a personal trainer or two. Unless we can get an actress to play me. And I want some child-actors to play my kids. Some that wear fashionable clothes (for tv), no snotty noses (we have allergies), and dont wake their mom up at all hours of the night (because whoever is playing me needs to NOT have these bags under her eyes.). Yes, they definitely need an actress to play my part. I've seen the faces of other wives whose husbands are deployed and they just look too sad. If I look like that then no one will watch this show.
No, it shouldn't be glamorous because that would be fake. It needs to be a reality show. But they probaby should not film the wife trying to trim her own bushes with the electric trimmer (I almost cut my arm off doing that!) and I dont know about filming her carrying out the trash and recycle bins every week...that might be a bit ho-hum for the tv audience. But then so would the endless trips to the commissary. Maybe inside-the-home ...we could have a great scene doing homeschool! They can just edit out the parts where Mom starts pulling her hair out and the kids are crying. It could be really touching if they show the kids getting a Skype call from their Dad (until they start fighting over who sits in front of the camera -oh wait, I forgot! They're actors. So maybe they wont do that...). We could do a span of the inside of the house, just to give people a "feel" for a real military family home... but not until I get it cleaned up in here for goodness sake!
I don't think this tv idea is going to fly. Even I wouldn't watch it!
Wednesday, January 24, 2007
Thank You Lord, for Benjamin!
Today Benjamin celebrated his fifth birthday (which was yesterday the 23rd but the party was today!). We turned the garage into the "Batcave" and friends came dressed as superheroes. This is me (Stacey) and Benjamin in yellow. Baby brother Isaac came as Batman jr.
The heavens tell...(Psalm 22)
During our years in Zambia, my favorite time of day was the hour or so just before sunset. Shawna Davis and i used to call it the "golden hour" because at that time the sun would descend toward the horizon and, as it did,it cast a golden glow over the tall grass on the flood plains. Actually, everything seemed touched by it. It was as if the fingers of the sun were reaching out to console us or to apologize for the glaring heat during the rest of the day.
I loved this hour. And it was my favorite thing to go walking at that time. The heat was diminished and usually a gentle breeze blew. Cooking fires were being lit and women began their preparation for the evening meal. Lazy oxen yoked together ambled their way home, languidly pulling a cart over-loaded with people, cassava and bags of charcoal. The heat and strife of the day was forgotten. It was a peaceful time, as if the whole world was letting out a long sigh...I sighed with it, looking forward to the cool of the evening.
I looked forward to putting the children to bed, getting the dishes washed, and settling down on the veranda beside of Mark with a cup of hot milo. Then together we listened to the wind rustle through the guava trees, a bushbaby cry, the sudden rush of a fruit bat passing by...and quiet...We sat in silent awe of the full moon and a million stars thrown across the black velvet sky.
Together, we could face each new day. Nothing seemed too daunting, as long as I woke to his strength beside me.
And just when I had embraced Africa (and she had somewhat grudgingly accepted me), God peeled my fingers back and said "I AM your strength. Now see." And He led us away from there and all that had become familiar and comforting (in its own sense). And I said "yes", though very small and faint. And I followed Him, though I knew there would be no more "golden hour" before sunset.
My heart grieves for that time. Just as it aches over missing Mark each evening when the sun sets and not finding him beside me every day when the sun rises again. But truly the Lord proves Himself to me over and over. I will wait for Him. And one day I will embrace this place also -and it will be a place that I cannot leave, but it will be with me and inside of me. For He IS my strength...Lord, let it be so.............
I loved this hour. And it was my favorite thing to go walking at that time. The heat was diminished and usually a gentle breeze blew. Cooking fires were being lit and women began their preparation for the evening meal. Lazy oxen yoked together ambled their way home, languidly pulling a cart over-loaded with people, cassava and bags of charcoal. The heat and strife of the day was forgotten. It was a peaceful time, as if the whole world was letting out a long sigh...I sighed with it, looking forward to the cool of the evening.
I looked forward to putting the children to bed, getting the dishes washed, and settling down on the veranda beside of Mark with a cup of hot milo. Then together we listened to the wind rustle through the guava trees, a bushbaby cry, the sudden rush of a fruit bat passing by...and quiet...We sat in silent awe of the full moon and a million stars thrown across the black velvet sky.
Together, we could face each new day. Nothing seemed too daunting, as long as I woke to his strength beside me.
And just when I had embraced Africa (and she had somewhat grudgingly accepted me), God peeled my fingers back and said "I AM your strength. Now see." And He led us away from there and all that had become familiar and comforting (in its own sense). And I said "yes", though very small and faint. And I followed Him, though I knew there would be no more "golden hour" before sunset.
My heart grieves for that time. Just as it aches over missing Mark each evening when the sun sets and not finding him beside me every day when the sun rises again. But truly the Lord proves Himself to me over and over. I will wait for Him. And one day I will embrace this place also -and it will be a place that I cannot leave, but it will be with me and inside of me. For He IS my strength...Lord, let it be so.............
Wednesday, December 20, 2006
My utmost...
A couple of days ago, I read the daily devotional page from Oswald Chambers' My Utmost For His Highest (Dec.18th). Sometimes, I do not mind saying, Mr. Chambers is quite over my head. But this time I read and re-read until I felt I had a good understanding of his train of thought. It was along the lines of loyalty to Christ. Mr. Chambers conjectured that we SAY we believe God engineers circumstances, but in our ACTIONS we deny it. God orders our every circumstance, but how often are we disloyal to Him by failing to realize this truth until the circumstance has changed or past? Then we look back with regret, realizing that we never saw what He was after. Perhaps we were too concerned with getting the circumstance to alter -it was too pressing, too uncomfortable. And so, after a time it does. And we have missed forever God's purpose in it for us.
Chambers says: "The test of loyalty always comes just there. If we learn to worship God in the trying circumstances, He will alter them in two seconds when He chooses."
I wonder how many God-ordained circumstances I have begged away from? How often have I cried and squirmed and complained...wasting precious opportunities to show my loyalty and my steadfast faith in Him?
The very day before I read this devotion, I went to a Battalion function for family members. As the chaplains wife, I tried to visit with the wives and offer encouragement and support. From all sides, I could feel the overwhelming stress and pressure felt by these women with their spouses so recently deployed. Many are just ill-equipped to handle the day to day struggles they now face. They have no faith-compass, nothing to steady them and assure them that all will be well. They do not know the One who seeks to comfort them, the Strong Tower to run into and be sheltered from these storms. My heart was very heavy for them.
As I ministered among the wives, several inquired about meeting together for some type of Bible Study or prayer group. This was an encouraging sign. I wrote down phone numbers and gave out my number and email address. Later that night, as I recalled the events of the day, I realized that the needs were overwhelming. How could I possibly take on OTHER peoples needs -I was exhausted just trying to take care of myself and my four children! It would be so much easier and more comfortable to just take care of my own. Being somewhat of an introvert, its not much of a stretch for me to just stay home and do my own thing. But then I read the devotion for December 18th in My Utmost...and I realized that these are my circumstances...my husband is gone for six months, I am a single mom...I am tired. But God has orchestrated all of this. I have a choice to make. I can moan and complain and draw into my shell and just make it through until June, or I can step out in loyalty to Him and say "I trust You, Lord. Now use me as You will...".
Chambers says: "The test of loyalty always comes just there. If we learn to worship God in the trying circumstances, He will alter them in two seconds when He chooses."
I wonder how many God-ordained circumstances I have begged away from? How often have I cried and squirmed and complained...wasting precious opportunities to show my loyalty and my steadfast faith in Him?
The very day before I read this devotion, I went to a Battalion function for family members. As the chaplains wife, I tried to visit with the wives and offer encouragement and support. From all sides, I could feel the overwhelming stress and pressure felt by these women with their spouses so recently deployed. Many are just ill-equipped to handle the day to day struggles they now face. They have no faith-compass, nothing to steady them and assure them that all will be well. They do not know the One who seeks to comfort them, the Strong Tower to run into and be sheltered from these storms. My heart was very heavy for them.
As I ministered among the wives, several inquired about meeting together for some type of Bible Study or prayer group. This was an encouraging sign. I wrote down phone numbers and gave out my number and email address. Later that night, as I recalled the events of the day, I realized that the needs were overwhelming. How could I possibly take on OTHER peoples needs -I was exhausted just trying to take care of myself and my four children! It would be so much easier and more comfortable to just take care of my own. Being somewhat of an introvert, its not much of a stretch for me to just stay home and do my own thing. But then I read the devotion for December 18th in My Utmost...and I realized that these are my circumstances...my husband is gone for six months, I am a single mom...I am tired. But God has orchestrated all of this. I have a choice to make. I can moan and complain and draw into my shell and just make it through until June, or I can step out in loyalty to Him and say "I trust You, Lord. Now use me as You will...".
Thursday, December 14, 2006
Mark packed up and headed out yesterday. It was every bit as hard as I thought it would be. The house seemed so still and quiet last night (after the kids were in bed of course!). I laid in the dark trying to sleep, but just thinking of all the things that I will be doing alone for the next half year. Ugh! That sounds terrible. Let's say "Six months" -sounds better.
Anyway, I do not relish single-parenting. Mark is the sun and moon around here. And when he is away, it seems like there is a cloud over everything. I just cannot make the kids laugh like he can. And Ben informed me that I cannot wrestle like Daddy either! And when he found out that Daddy would not make it back for his fifth birthday in January (the long awaited "Batman" party), he wailed with such a gut wrenching cry that it broke my heart.
Grace is full of "Why?" questions. The big ones being:Why does Daddy have to be a soldier in the Navy? and Why can't we just go back to Zambia where he can be with us all the time?
To which I initially tried giving a lengthy dissertation about the theology of God's will...but she met me with a "Lame -O" look and crossed her arms. After all, she is nine (almost ten) and she is a big girl now (as she informed me yesterday before melting into a puddle of tears). So I changed my answer and just simply pointed out that Daddy is really gifted by God at being a soldier-missionary. And he loves what he does. He doesn't want to leave us, but that is the responsibility he has now. So we need to be proud of him and support him. She seemed more satisfied with that and so was I. Before he left, Katie told me that she was happy to send Daddy out to tell the other soldiers about Jesus -but she sure would miss him. And then she cried like a baby (she's eight).
Me too.
Isaac, who is two, is the only one who was unaffected. He did not have a clue that we were saying goodbye to Daddy for many months. So he just laughed and giggled all the way home.
This morning, he met me with a little smile and crawled into my lap as usual to watch Sesame Street. We named him well..."Laughter".
I could use some of that. I think I'll go get a hug.
Anyway, I do not relish single-parenting. Mark is the sun and moon around here. And when he is away, it seems like there is a cloud over everything. I just cannot make the kids laugh like he can. And Ben informed me that I cannot wrestle like Daddy either! And when he found out that Daddy would not make it back for his fifth birthday in January (the long awaited "Batman" party), he wailed with such a gut wrenching cry that it broke my heart.
Grace is full of "Why?" questions. The big ones being:Why does Daddy have to be a soldier in the Navy? and Why can't we just go back to Zambia where he can be with us all the time?
To which I initially tried giving a lengthy dissertation about the theology of God's will...but she met me with a "Lame -O" look and crossed her arms. After all, she is nine (almost ten) and she is a big girl now (as she informed me yesterday before melting into a puddle of tears). So I changed my answer and just simply pointed out that Daddy is really gifted by God at being a soldier-missionary. And he loves what he does. He doesn't want to leave us, but that is the responsibility he has now. So we need to be proud of him and support him. She seemed more satisfied with that and so was I. Before he left, Katie told me that she was happy to send Daddy out to tell the other soldiers about Jesus -but she sure would miss him. And then she cried like a baby (she's eight).
Me too.
Isaac, who is two, is the only one who was unaffected. He did not have a clue that we were saying goodbye to Daddy for many months. So he just laughed and giggled all the way home.
This morning, he met me with a little smile and crawled into my lap as usual to watch Sesame Street. We named him well..."Laughter".
I could use some of that. I think I'll go get a hug.
Sunday, November 05, 2006
Here We Go Again...
I can hardly believe we are doing this again...ten years and four kids later and Mark is leaving on another military deployment! I had forgotten that sickening feeling of dread. But here it is again, settling over us like a heavy fog.
One month until he ships out. This time as an officer, so life will be a little better for him. This past week we packed three trunks and sent them ahead. As we vacuum-sucked and sealed the bags to make every bit of space count, I could feel a big knot growing in my chest. After the last trunk, we sat down together and I had a good cry. I didnt mean to cry yet, but it just came out.
Then I tried to get myself together and look "normal" so as not to scare the children.
The Base Ombundsman gave me a nifty little DVD by the Sesame Street gang. Its for children of deploying military members. I havent played it yet -though I have heard its pretty good. Its just hard for me to believe that Elmo could possibly have anything comforting to say to a four year old little boy who's Daddy is leaving him for six months (at least) - right before his birthday. Or, what soothing phrase can Cookie Monster utter to my 8 and 9 year old girls if Dad ends up in Afghanistan or Iraq. I know, I know, I should at least watch it first. Maybe Big Bird can't comfort the rest of us -but the two year old might go for it...
Personally, I am holding out for the "grace upon grace" that comes right in the nick of time. I know from experience that God's grace and peace will not come a minute too late. When I am at my lowest, He will be there. When I think I cannot make another day alone, His presence will steady me and strengthen me. Similarly, I also know that for now I will have to feel the dread. I will have to name my fears and take them to Him in prayer. He WILL let me grieve over Mark leaving and feel the sadness along with the children. And Mark will also have to grieve for the months he will miss with us. These next four weeks will be pretty miserable around the Conard household as we all come to terms with this upcoming separation. It is just part of the process of deployment. So pray for us, if you are reading this blog. And pray for me as I "single-mom" it for six or seven months...
One month until he ships out. This time as an officer, so life will be a little better for him. This past week we packed three trunks and sent them ahead. As we vacuum-sucked and sealed the bags to make every bit of space count, I could feel a big knot growing in my chest. After the last trunk, we sat down together and I had a good cry. I didnt mean to cry yet, but it just came out.
Then I tried to get myself together and look "normal" so as not to scare the children.
The Base Ombundsman gave me a nifty little DVD by the Sesame Street gang. Its for children of deploying military members. I havent played it yet -though I have heard its pretty good. Its just hard for me to believe that Elmo could possibly have anything comforting to say to a four year old little boy who's Daddy is leaving him for six months (at least) - right before his birthday. Or, what soothing phrase can Cookie Monster utter to my 8 and 9 year old girls if Dad ends up in Afghanistan or Iraq. I know, I know, I should at least watch it first. Maybe Big Bird can't comfort the rest of us -but the two year old might go for it...
Personally, I am holding out for the "grace upon grace" that comes right in the nick of time. I know from experience that God's grace and peace will not come a minute too late. When I am at my lowest, He will be there. When I think I cannot make another day alone, His presence will steady me and strengthen me. Similarly, I also know that for now I will have to feel the dread. I will have to name my fears and take them to Him in prayer. He WILL let me grieve over Mark leaving and feel the sadness along with the children. And Mark will also have to grieve for the months he will miss with us. These next four weeks will be pretty miserable around the Conard household as we all come to terms with this upcoming separation. It is just part of the process of deployment. So pray for us, if you are reading this blog. And pray for me as I "single-mom" it for six or seven months...
Sunday, October 15, 2006
Those "Terrible Twos"
I think Isaac, our just-turned-two year old, has really come into his own this week. He is truly living up to the infamous stereotype of the "terrible twos". Yesterday, I spent two hours ironing each page of my warthog-skinned bible, which he had decided to baptize in the tub. Yeah, the one I got re-covered in Zimbabwe a few years ago. After the dunk, I let it air dry for days then tried blow-drying with a hairdryer. This gave somewhat satisfactory results except for the wrinkles which made the whole thing swell up like a Strongs Concordance. Thus ironing the pages -works fine on medium heat. I am still not finished, but I'm in the Psalms. It almost looks as good as new. Sigh...
Isaac not only likes to throw things in the tub, he also likes markers. Purple is his favorite color, which is why our beige recliner has a beautiful purple rainbow across the front. AND he has a penchant for face painting. I found him sitting nicely on the living room floor with Benjamin watching Sesame Street yesterday morning. For a brief moment of euphoria, I basked in the glow of their quiet little brotherhood...until Isaac turned to me and grinned -with my new merlot- red lipstick painted on both cheeks, his nose and (of course) his lips. I gasped, speechless. Then ran for the bathroom where I found the said lipstick smeared far and wide.
After Sesame Street a parenting channel came on. While scrubbing the lipstick off of Isaac, cleaning up spilled apple juice and crawling on all-fours searching in vain for the purple marker top, I listened to the speaker proliferate on the importance of playing with, reading to, and interrelating with your two year old.
Gee, I'd love to.
Later, I took Isaac with me to do grocery shopping at the commissary. He climbed happily into the front of the cart then waited patiently for me to buckle him in. As we wheeled thru the parking lot to the store, Isaac threw his head back and smiled up at me - those big, beautiful, brown eyes sparkling. My heart was his.
Suddenly it hit me that in a very short time he would be too big to sit in the front of the grocery cart. There would be no more toddlers for me to mommy! No more sticky hands and snotty noses! No more Elmo! No more Thomas Tank Engine! I could hardly stand the thought.
I leaned over and gave my little buddy a hug. He smiled again and thru his arms around my neck. And when we got home...
I stretched out on the floor and read him a book.
Isaac not only likes to throw things in the tub, he also likes markers. Purple is his favorite color, which is why our beige recliner has a beautiful purple rainbow across the front. AND he has a penchant for face painting. I found him sitting nicely on the living room floor with Benjamin watching Sesame Street yesterday morning. For a brief moment of euphoria, I basked in the glow of their quiet little brotherhood...until Isaac turned to me and grinned -with my new merlot- red lipstick painted on both cheeks, his nose and (of course) his lips. I gasped, speechless. Then ran for the bathroom where I found the said lipstick smeared far and wide.
After Sesame Street a parenting channel came on. While scrubbing the lipstick off of Isaac, cleaning up spilled apple juice and crawling on all-fours searching in vain for the purple marker top, I listened to the speaker proliferate on the importance of playing with, reading to, and interrelating with your two year old.
Gee, I'd love to.
Later, I took Isaac with me to do grocery shopping at the commissary. He climbed happily into the front of the cart then waited patiently for me to buckle him in. As we wheeled thru the parking lot to the store, Isaac threw his head back and smiled up at me - those big, beautiful, brown eyes sparkling. My heart was his.
Suddenly it hit me that in a very short time he would be too big to sit in the front of the grocery cart. There would be no more toddlers for me to mommy! No more sticky hands and snotty noses! No more Elmo! No more Thomas Tank Engine! I could hardly stand the thought.
I leaned over and gave my little buddy a hug. He smiled again and thru his arms around my neck. And when we got home...
I stretched out on the floor and read him a book.
Wednesday, September 27, 2006
Stand Still and Know...
One of the beautiful traditions of the Navy is the sounding of "Colors" when the flag is being hoisted in the morning and again at sunset when it is being lowered. As dictated by tradition (and respect), individuals must stand at attention or, if they are driving a vehicle on base, they must pull to the side and stop until the anthem is finished.
A few days ago, I drove onto base just as Colors began to sound. I pulled quickly to the side and stopped to listen. And watch. All around, cars that had been humming along busily to work were silenced. Men and women in uniform were still,standing tall and proud. Everything was quiet except for the beautiful sound of "Colors"...
I felt an overwhelming sense of pride...and sadness. I love my country. I love the brave soldiers who serve her now and have served before. I wish that "Colors" could be sounded everywhere in this country, not just on the military installations. I wish that every American would stand still, by choice, when the flag was raised and lowered. And that they would listen with respect, thinking for a moment each day of those who are fighting and have fought in the past.
And as I pondered this while the last haunting sounds of "Colors" faded away, I thought of Psalm 46:10 where we are commanded to "Be still and know that I am God."
What if we were all forced to "Be still and know"? To know GOD! What an incredible feeling that would be. It makes me wish that God would hoist up a flag and play His own version of Holy Colors to call us all to attention! And one day He's going to do just that. But instead of standing, we will all be flat on our faces in awe and reverence.
In the meantime, now whenever I hear "Colors", I stand still and think of Jesus who is Lord of Lord and King of Kings. I say a prayer of thanks for my country and for our servicemen and women. And then I just enjoy the moment.
A few days ago, I drove onto base just as Colors began to sound. I pulled quickly to the side and stopped to listen. And watch. All around, cars that had been humming along busily to work were silenced. Men and women in uniform were still,standing tall and proud. Everything was quiet except for the beautiful sound of "Colors"...
I felt an overwhelming sense of pride...and sadness. I love my country. I love the brave soldiers who serve her now and have served before. I wish that "Colors" could be sounded everywhere in this country, not just on the military installations. I wish that every American would stand still, by choice, when the flag was raised and lowered. And that they would listen with respect, thinking for a moment each day of those who are fighting and have fought in the past.
And as I pondered this while the last haunting sounds of "Colors" faded away, I thought of Psalm 46:10 where we are commanded to "Be still and know that I am God."
What if we were all forced to "Be still and know"? To know GOD! What an incredible feeling that would be. It makes me wish that God would hoist up a flag and play His own version of Holy Colors to call us all to attention! And one day He's going to do just that. But instead of standing, we will all be flat on our faces in awe and reverence.
In the meantime, now whenever I hear "Colors", I stand still and think of Jesus who is Lord of Lord and King of Kings. I say a prayer of thanks for my country and for our servicemen and women. And then I just enjoy the moment.
Wednesday, September 13, 2006
We're not in Kansas, Toto...
I once read that finding out your child has a serious disability is like planning for a great vacation to Italy, reading all the tour guides, buying the tickets...then landing in Holland. Holland is nice. But all your friends are going to Italy. You always wanted to go to Italy. But now you are in Holland. And there are no flights to Italy.
So what do you do?
You buy a tour guide to Holland and start enjoying the tulips and the windmills. No, its not as flashy as Italy. But Holland is it's own special place.
I found real comfort in this analogy when we found out that our second daughter has serious learning disabilities. I kept reminding myself that Holland is GOOD. Holland is special -and so is Katie. Katie is going to be ok.
Then recently, I noticed the tell-tale signs of a dorsal fin in our peaceful little stream.
Another writer says that for parents who have dealt with it before,seeing the first familiar signs of OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) again is like sighting a shark. You see the telltale fin cutting thru the surface and you panic.
Thats how I felt recently when I heard bathroom water running 20 times a day and noticed our son Benjamin's red, chapped hands. His older sister (our firstborn) was diagnosed with OCD two years ago. It was a nightmare ...starting with the handwashing. As days have gone by, Mark and I have tried (with little success) to use similar cognitive therapy tricks on Benjamin that helped Grace. But as any parent who has experienced OCD, I know this will get worse before it gets better. Every day is a new compulsion. The "obsession" is that his hands feel "sticky". Only washing makes them clean. Thats the "compulsion" (for you amateurs). Often,he even wants to wash his feet ("to make sure"). This week, we even notice he is holding his hands out, afraid to touch doorknobs...or even hold his Mommy's hand.
Thats when I get angry. And sad. But mostly mad. Because I hate this thing. It has a life of its own. I know its just a "brain glitch". But you can't reason with it. You can't cajole it. You can't love it away. And when your son won't even hold your hand, you can't even cuddle it away. I hate OCD.
And even though Grace is so much better, I hate that it is still part of her life. She is great about asking for help to "talk back" to it, to resist the compulsions. And now she is even trying to help Benjamin. I heard her tell him at breakfast yesterday "Don't let it bully you, Ben! Its not real -your hands aren't sticky. Its just that bad feeling in your brain trying to trick you!".
With Katie's disability, I could believe about Holland.
With OCD, its like planning a trip to Italy and winding up in Calcutta. There are no tulips and windmills in Calcutta.
So what do you do?
You buy a tour guide to Holland and start enjoying the tulips and the windmills. No, its not as flashy as Italy. But Holland is it's own special place.
I found real comfort in this analogy when we found out that our second daughter has serious learning disabilities. I kept reminding myself that Holland is GOOD. Holland is special -and so is Katie. Katie is going to be ok.
Then recently, I noticed the tell-tale signs of a dorsal fin in our peaceful little stream.
Another writer says that for parents who have dealt with it before,seeing the first familiar signs of OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) again is like sighting a shark. You see the telltale fin cutting thru the surface and you panic.
Thats how I felt recently when I heard bathroom water running 20 times a day and noticed our son Benjamin's red, chapped hands. His older sister (our firstborn) was diagnosed with OCD two years ago. It was a nightmare ...starting with the handwashing. As days have gone by, Mark and I have tried (with little success) to use similar cognitive therapy tricks on Benjamin that helped Grace. But as any parent who has experienced OCD, I know this will get worse before it gets better. Every day is a new compulsion. The "obsession" is that his hands feel "sticky". Only washing makes them clean. Thats the "compulsion" (for you amateurs). Often,he even wants to wash his feet ("to make sure"). This week, we even notice he is holding his hands out, afraid to touch doorknobs...or even hold his Mommy's hand.
Thats when I get angry. And sad. But mostly mad. Because I hate this thing. It has a life of its own. I know its just a "brain glitch". But you can't reason with it. You can't cajole it. You can't love it away. And when your son won't even hold your hand, you can't even cuddle it away. I hate OCD.
And even though Grace is so much better, I hate that it is still part of her life. She is great about asking for help to "talk back" to it, to resist the compulsions. And now she is even trying to help Benjamin. I heard her tell him at breakfast yesterday "Don't let it bully you, Ben! Its not real -your hands aren't sticky. Its just that bad feeling in your brain trying to trick you!".
With Katie's disability, I could believe about Holland.
With OCD, its like planning a trip to Italy and winding up in Calcutta. There are no tulips and windmills in Calcutta.
Friday, September 01, 2006
Kindness Is The Rule
Recently it came to my attention (with a little help from my husband!), that my tone was hurtful. He reminded me that even though my words were not harsh, my tone was. And we both sensed our children emulating what they heard from me...ouch!
So, I spent a day listening to myself. He was right. I didn't have to use ugly words. Just the edge in my voice, the certain emphasis on a word, and of course the volume...each of those things could express what I was really feeling. The meaning BEHIND the tone could cause someone to feel stupid, undesirable, clumsy, and worse -unloved. For the first time, I realized what I was saying to my husband and children without words. Soon after that, another episode caused me even greater sorrow.
Mark, the kids and I were in the car driving somewhere. I can't even remember what we disagreed about, but soon I found myself arguing vehemently with my husband! I just couldn't make myself SHUT UP, even though I KNEW that I had said enough (actually more than enough). Mark remained calm and collected, but firm, as I ranted on. Suddenly from the back seat little voices piped up (Katie then Ben) "Cover in Kindness, Mommy! Cover in Kindness!" they pleaded...that had become our family "motto" the week before, when I had noticed the kids doing a lot of bickering among themselves. But now THEY were reminding ME! Suddenly, nothing was worth arguing about. I was slain.
I have grieved over my tongue before. As James says "it is a flame of fire....an uncontrollable evil full of deadly poison (3:6-8). That was not the first time my lack of tongue-control has brought me to tears. But this time, I got serious.
Later alone, I called out to God and told Him how sorry I was and how sick and tired I am of defeat. I'm tired of falling into the same habits of speech...After all, the Bible says that "those who control their tongues can also control themselves in every other way." (James 3:2). I sensed that controlling my tongue was the beginning of spiritual growth in my life in other areas as well. I asked the Lord to give me victory and I went ahead and thanked Him for it. Then I determined in my heart NOT to accept defeat. I began to be purposeful about change. I wrote Proverbs 15:1 on a large white cardboard sign and put it in the kitchen where I would plainly see it all day long. It says :"A gentle answer turns away wrath, but harsh words stir up anger." I wrote in large clear letters and decorated my sign with flowers and palm trees, a sunshine and ocean waves. The kids loved it, and together we read it, and I explained to them what it meant. For the first few days, I still struggled to speak patiently and kindly to my children. I still found myself using a critical tone with Mark. But I WAS seeing some improvement...so I kept praying and asking God for victory. Believe it or not, I could not remember a time when I finished a day victorious in the area of tongue-control!
Several days later, I was halfway thru the day when I realized that victory was almost mine! I noticed that my kids were speaking nicely to one another too. And they responded better to my kind words and pleasant voice, even when it was firmly inflicting discipline!
I was noticing a change in my attitude towards Mark as well. Was he getting smarter? More capable? more of a leader in our home? Or maybe it was just that I was choosing to recognize these things about him and purposefully praise and affirm him. He was glowing!
By the end of that day, I was ready to jump up and down. I lay down in bed that night with a truly satisfied feeling that I had loved my family in actions AND words AND tone. Victory was mine! Thank you Jesus!
Not every day is as wonderful. But I can feel a huge change and I know my family can sense it too.
Yesterday, I made a new sign: Proverbs 31:26 "When she speaks, her words are wise and kindness is the rule when she gives instructions."NLT. Please pray that this will always be true of me -and you, too!
So, I spent a day listening to myself. He was right. I didn't have to use ugly words. Just the edge in my voice, the certain emphasis on a word, and of course the volume...each of those things could express what I was really feeling. The meaning BEHIND the tone could cause someone to feel stupid, undesirable, clumsy, and worse -unloved. For the first time, I realized what I was saying to my husband and children without words. Soon after that, another episode caused me even greater sorrow.
Mark, the kids and I were in the car driving somewhere. I can't even remember what we disagreed about, but soon I found myself arguing vehemently with my husband! I just couldn't make myself SHUT UP, even though I KNEW that I had said enough (actually more than enough). Mark remained calm and collected, but firm, as I ranted on. Suddenly from the back seat little voices piped up (Katie then Ben) "Cover in Kindness, Mommy! Cover in Kindness!" they pleaded...that had become our family "motto" the week before, when I had noticed the kids doing a lot of bickering among themselves. But now THEY were reminding ME! Suddenly, nothing was worth arguing about. I was slain.
I have grieved over my tongue before. As James says "it is a flame of fire....an uncontrollable evil full of deadly poison (3:6-8). That was not the first time my lack of tongue-control has brought me to tears. But this time, I got serious.
Later alone, I called out to God and told Him how sorry I was and how sick and tired I am of defeat. I'm tired of falling into the same habits of speech...After all, the Bible says that "those who control their tongues can also control themselves in every other way." (James 3:2). I sensed that controlling my tongue was the beginning of spiritual growth in my life in other areas as well. I asked the Lord to give me victory and I went ahead and thanked Him for it. Then I determined in my heart NOT to accept defeat. I began to be purposeful about change. I wrote Proverbs 15:1 on a large white cardboard sign and put it in the kitchen where I would plainly see it all day long. It says :"A gentle answer turns away wrath, but harsh words stir up anger." I wrote in large clear letters and decorated my sign with flowers and palm trees, a sunshine and ocean waves. The kids loved it, and together we read it, and I explained to them what it meant. For the first few days, I still struggled to speak patiently and kindly to my children. I still found myself using a critical tone with Mark. But I WAS seeing some improvement...so I kept praying and asking God for victory. Believe it or not, I could not remember a time when I finished a day victorious in the area of tongue-control!
Several days later, I was halfway thru the day when I realized that victory was almost mine! I noticed that my kids were speaking nicely to one another too. And they responded better to my kind words and pleasant voice, even when it was firmly inflicting discipline!
I was noticing a change in my attitude towards Mark as well. Was he getting smarter? More capable? more of a leader in our home? Or maybe it was just that I was choosing to recognize these things about him and purposefully praise and affirm him. He was glowing!
By the end of that day, I was ready to jump up and down. I lay down in bed that night with a truly satisfied feeling that I had loved my family in actions AND words AND tone. Victory was mine! Thank you Jesus!
Not every day is as wonderful. But I can feel a huge change and I know my family can sense it too.
Yesterday, I made a new sign: Proverbs 31:26 "When she speaks, her words are wise and kindness is the rule when she gives instructions."NLT. Please pray that this will always be true of me -and you, too!
Thursday, August 31, 2006
Beginning Blogger...
BIG week...first days of school -ever! Katie and Grace are in public school for the first time (2nd and 4th grades). Mark and I escorted them to school the first day. We had to hustle out of there, because we were both ready to cry! So far so good, though. Ben starts preschool next week for half days M,W,F. Isaac and I will be on our own. What will we ever do?! Gee...I can probably think of a few things to catch up on.
Mark is settling in to his job as Battalion 3 Chaplain. I think he really likes it. And I am trying to find my place in the military world, juggling official Navy"functions", wardroom wives meetings (thats officers wives - for the unindoctrinated), family support group fundraisers, Bee club garden parties...etc, etc. Where does the Chaplains wife fit in and what are the best ways for me to serve and minister? After all, thats the main reason I'm here. And most important of all, I need to keep my focus on being the wife and mother that God wants me to be.
I have made a good friend already. Her name is Debra. She is a tall, vivacious, Jesus-loving mom who lives right across the road from me here on base. Her husband is in another Battalion, so we hooked up right away, and once we realized how well we get along (our kids too -she has a boy and a girl), we decided to swap off babysitting for Battalion functions. She and her husband Scott also invited Mark and me to church. We havent even visited anywhere else because we like it so much! I started going to the women's bible study on Tuesdays and have made three or four friends there as well.
So, all in all, we are settling in...
BENJAMIN'S FUNNIES....
Ben used his allowance to buy some fake vampire teeth at the NEX store here on base (yes,Halloween stuff is out everywhere!). He wanted to "scare" Grace and Katie when we picked them up at school.
"Dont tell them I bought these, Mommy", he insisted seriously. "Just say that we met a big, mean, monster and I beat him up and stole his teeth!"
Mark is settling in to his job as Battalion 3 Chaplain. I think he really likes it. And I am trying to find my place in the military world, juggling official Navy"functions", wardroom wives meetings (thats officers wives - for the unindoctrinated), family support group fundraisers, Bee club garden parties...etc, etc. Where does the Chaplains wife fit in and what are the best ways for me to serve and minister? After all, thats the main reason I'm here. And most important of all, I need to keep my focus on being the wife and mother that God wants me to be.
I have made a good friend already. Her name is Debra. She is a tall, vivacious, Jesus-loving mom who lives right across the road from me here on base. Her husband is in another Battalion, so we hooked up right away, and once we realized how well we get along (our kids too -she has a boy and a girl), we decided to swap off babysitting for Battalion functions. She and her husband Scott also invited Mark and me to church. We havent even visited anywhere else because we like it so much! I started going to the women's bible study on Tuesdays and have made three or four friends there as well.
So, all in all, we are settling in...
BENJAMIN'S FUNNIES....
Ben used his allowance to buy some fake vampire teeth at the NEX store here on base (yes,Halloween stuff is out everywhere!). He wanted to "scare" Grace and Katie when we picked them up at school.
"Dont tell them I bought these, Mommy", he insisted seriously. "Just say that we met a big, mean, monster and I beat him up and stole his teeth!"
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