Song for Sunday

There is a Stephen Curtis Chapman song that haunts me whenever things start to get a little hectic. Mostly I enjoy humming it when it first pops into my head, because the first verse feels a lot like my life on any given day:

Well the day has just begun and I'm already running late
With too many irons in the fire and too much on my plate
I'd be pulling out my hair if I could just get one hand free
And I'd stop this world if I could find the key

What I see is telling me I'm going crazy, but
What is real says God's still on His throne

The rest of the song is insanely cheesy, and singing it becomes embarrassing when I get to the end of the chorus. Even if I'm all alone or in the shower, I feel slightly ridiculous for remembering the words. Therefore, I am not going to "dorkify" (yeah, I made that word up) myself further by sharing the rest of the song. If you're curious, you can find it here. It just goes on to say that God is in control, even when we feel like everything (including our thinking-impaired dogs or sleep deprived children) is completely out of control.

Lydia is recovering from a nasty illness of some sort and is now teething and obsessed with learning to crawl. Hannah is trying to adjust to the time change and has decided she is quite gifted at negotiation- "how about if I eat two more bites and have my dessert?" "What if I skip nap to watch a movie? That's still resting..." My house is covered in muddy puppy prints. I'm still working on taxes, and my in-laws are here... See why this is our song for Sunday?

Extra hands

Today we had lunch at Cracker Barrel after church. For us, this means leaving with several to go boxes and a shopping bag since the back clearance corner at Cracker Barrel is one of my favorite places of all. On the way out, John carried Lydia and I carried all of the loot. I also held Hannah's hand. She was in rare form, pointing out all of the silly things we passed while she sucked on her 15 cent cotton candy stick. When it was time for her to get in the car, I held her candy and her chocolate milk and the bag with the food and fabulous clearance finds. And I tried to buckle her in. It was a slow & mostly futile effort. I looked over at John, who had already strapped Lydia in and was finding time to coo at her while I fumbled with the straps, and held out the milk & candy for him to take while I told him, "You know, this would be easier if I had another hand..."

To which Hannah replied, "Yeah... like a spider, or an octopus."

Poor Little Lydia

Our sweet Lydia has been sick. On Thursday she started running a fever that didn't even seem to go away with Tylenol. At the doctor's on Friday she had a White Blood Count of 20,000- super high! But she has no other symptoms- no ear infection, no cough, nothing. They gave her a broad spectrum antibiotic shot (I HATE antibiotics, but trust our doctors) and a prescription for more. They also made an appointment for us to have more blood drawn on Saturday to be sure it was working. Although still at a loss as to where the infection is hiding, the doctors did seem to think the antibiotics were helping after the second test. (Maybe I hate antibiotics a little less...)

One thing that has come with this illness is a nursing strike. Lydia will eat her babyfood and yogurt and even those tiny little nutritional nothings called Gerber Puffs. But she is avoiding nursing- almost like it is painful. This is especially hard (for both of us) because it has always been a surefire way to comfort her. Now we have to do a lot of walking and bouncing and shushing and more walking- and she is not a tiny baby! My back is aching. But so is my heart. For those of you mommas who nurse, you know how precious that time is with your little one. It breaks my heart to think that this special snuggle stage is over. Not to mention the worries about dehydration!

I'll admit, I've been discouraged. I prayed about it and seemed to have no response. But then last night, at bed time, she fussed and I couldn't walk it out of her. I laid down with her on my bed, and she wanted to nurse! Even if this was the last time, I'm so thankful to have had that moment with my little one.

Update: It took a few days to get back on track, and she refused to nurse a few more times, but I'm happy to report that Lydia is nursing again. I'm so relieved and thankful to have some more of that precious bonding time with my girl.

Song for Sunday

With Lydia sick and needing extra TLC, Hannah has been snuggling in and watching quite a few VHS tapes in our bedroom lately- including Prince of Egypt. It was a tough one to explain to a three-year-old! But I did rediscover a fun song. Here are the lyrics:

A single thread in a tapestry
Through its color brightly shine
Can never see its purpose
In the pattern of the grand design

And the stone that sits on the very top
Of the mountain's mighty face
Does it think it's more important
Than the stones that form the base?

So how can you see what your life is worth
Or where your value lies?
You can never see through the eyes of man
You must look at your life through heaven's eyes

A lake of gold in the desert sand
Is less than a cool fresh spring
And to one lost sheep, a shepherd boy
Is greater than the richest king
If a man lose ev'rything he owns
Has he truly lost his worth?
Or is it the beginning
Of a new and brighter birth?

So how do you measure the worth of a man
In wealth or strength or size?
In how much he gained or how much he gave?
The answer will come
The answer will come to him who tries
To look at his life through heaven's eyes

And that's why we share all we have with you
Though there's little to be found
When all you've got is nothing
There's a lot to go around

No life can escape being blown about
By the winds of change and chance
And though you never know all the steps
You must learn to join the dance

So how do you judge what a man is worth
By what he builds or buys?
You can never see with your eyes on earth
Look through heaven's eyes
Look at your life
Look at your life
Look at your life through heaven's eyes

In the Ashes

I've attempted to post this for two days, but I keep having html errors. It's quite frustrating to hit "publish post" right before my 15 minutes is up, only to see that hateful yellow & red box come up. I can't tell you how many things I have wanted to google in the past few days- especially now that I have a sick baby and limited time on WebMd and Babycenter. I never noticed how many times people tell me "I'll send you a message on facebook" or "I'll just e-mail it" until those words began to make me cringe! On the other hand, I have accomplished quite a bit: I finished countless loads of laundry, vacuumed, cleaned the kitchen, sorted through old books to sell, started Sean's book The Letters, played with my girls, stuffed bags for Upward Awards Night, and finished The Letters. And I've also found more time to pray and be still. So far, it's a rough but rewarding process.

A few days ago I read an excerpt from Jacob the Baker by Noah benShea. He says he wrote this particular story to help himself & his father cope with a diagnosis of ALS (read about it here.) While not exactly the same symbolism as the ashes worn all over the world on Wednesday, I find this to be an equally beautiful picture of Lent and the life/death of Jesus. After all, what struggle can we face that he has not also experienced? What can threaten us that he has not conquered? Even if the struggle is, as in my case, a silly one against yourself, He has been there.

“Life is often heavy only because we attempt to carry it,” said Jacob.

“But I do find strength in the ashes.”

“In the ashes?” asked Mr. Gold.

“Yes,” said Jacob with a confirmation that seemed to have traveled a great distance.

“You see, Mr. Gold, each of us is alone. Each of us is in the great darkness of our ignorance.

And each of us is on a journey.

“In the process of our journey, we must bend to build a fire for light, and warmth, and food.

“But when our fingers tear at the ground, hoping to find the coals of another’s fire, what we often find are the ashes.

“And in these ashes, which will not give us light or warmth, there may be sadness, but there is also testimony.

“Because these ashes tell us that somebody else has been in the night, somebody else has bent to build a fire, and somebody else has carried on.

“And that can be enough sometimes, that can be enough.”

My time is almost up. To those of you taking on the same challenge, or another of your own, carry on.

Fat Tuesday, Large Blog

I'm afraid the title of "Fat Tuesday" might be taken literally at our house this year. We've been doing well with our weight loss plan thus far, but today could offer a setback. John has decided to give up meat for lent. Since I don't feel like cooking separate meals for two people (three actually because Hannah rarely eats what we do) I am going to join him. Since it's not officially my Lenten sacrifice, I may still have an occasional turkey sandwich for lunch while John is at work. I don't want the lunch meat to go bad! But other than that, our house will be meat-free for the next 46 days. We actually don't even eat that much meat to begin with- we usually have more than one meatless dinner during the week, and even when I do use chicken or ground beef in recipes I often don't use full servings. But there is something about officially saying "No meat" that makes the mouth water for a big fat cheeseburger. And this brings me to my original concern- that my husband's Fat Tuesday indulgences will set us back a pound or two in our weight loss efforts. Not that I will be complaining when he walks in with the greasy bag filled with burgers from Five Guys. No, I will be too busy devouring my cheeseburger (how long has it been?!) and dunking my fries in the Five Guys special malt vinegar to complain. The complaining will wait until I step on the scale tomorrow morning. Or when the Wii fit plumps up my Mii a little more than I'd like. But I do want to support John in this big challenge, so I will also support him in his "last supper."

As a kid growing up in Cincinnati, I was immersed in the Catholic culture. All of my friends went to mass. They got gifts on St. Nicolas' feast day and Christmas. They went to a lot of festivals. The schools served meatless meals (or fish) on Friday during Lent and often year-round. (On a side-note, many cultures fast from meat during this time, so John is actually joining in something shared by the saints throughout the history of the church.) And they talked about what to give up for Lent. Some would give up something that meant very little to them, like bubblegum. But others sought to give up something they would really miss. The season of Lent is supposed to be a preparation for Holy Week. A time to reflect upon, and in some small way share in, the sufferings of Christ. It's not a time to hold back and pick something "safe." And it's not a time to just try and break bad habits (although if that's a side effect, I'm sure it would be fine!) It's about clearing a path for the coming King. Getting distractions out of the way and filling them with contemplation. Preparing the way of the Lord.

So, what am I giving up for Lent? I've pondered this one for a while. Since I'm still nursing, I've decided to stay away from giving up any particular food. Besides, I'm already dieting, so that would not necessarily be something new to turn my attention and cravings toward Christ. Instead I've decided to give up an activity that I often call my "default setting." When my mind & body are tired from mommy-dom, when I need to tell someone something silly (or awful or sweet or whatever) about my day, when I'm overthinking something and need to clear my head, when I need to research something to feel more in control of a situation... I come here. To my faithful desktop. When I need a break, I can't wait to flop into this chair and be whisked away to the world of blogs and facebook. If John beats me to it, I can literally feel my stress-level rise as I wait for my turn. I don't think blogging or e-mail or facebook are bad- in fact, they have all been a tremendous encouragement to me as a stay-at-home mom, and in some cases I would consider them to be blessings (and even ministries). But too much of a good thing is not a good thing. How can I find time to read 10 blogs before going to bed, yet I struggle to stay awake during bedtime prayer? Why is it that I rush to get my quiet time in before the girls get up, yet spend the quiet times during the rest of the day checking facebook? And worst of all, why is it that when something is truly bothering me, I prefer to take my mind off of it with a round of scramble, rather than meeting it head on, tackling it, and dragging it into my prayer closet?

I want a new default setting during this season of Lent. I want to turn to prayer, to reading scripture or an inspirational book, to giving time to my family or to others. I have to be realistic- I still need to be able to be in contact with the outside world, and I still think God has things to share through my bloginess. But instead of all day long, I will limit myself to 15 minutes once a day. That should be enough time to correspond and update, but not enough time to wander aimlessly through search engines. I'll hopefully still have time to blog, although it might be shorter (I know what some of you are thinking- be nice!) Will I feel like I'm missing out on things? Sure. Will I actually miss out on some? Maybe. But it will be worth it.

John wanted me to clarify about this whole "no-meat" thing. He wants people to know that it isn't just because he is overly-green (although he is) or because we've got big social consciences for the treatment of animals (we do). It's not because meat is expensive. It's because, to use his word, it is a craving. When he is out to eat with the guys, watching them gnaw on ribs while he eats his rabbit food, he will want meat SO bad. And it will remind him: that's how we're supposed to feel about God and His righteousness. Hopefully the same will be true for me. When I am desparate to hear a word of wisdom from someone, I won't seek my mommy friends on facebook or even the wisest of bloggers- I'll be reminded of the Source of all wisdom. When I am troubled and seeking a place to hide, I'll remember the Rock. When I inadvertently flop into my comfy black office chair, I'll be reminded of The Comforter. It's funny, we're supposed to be giving up things, but I'm excited about what we'll be gaining in their place.

On you I meditate, and as I think, my soul it faints for you.
You are my drink, you are my feast
You are my love, my soul's own King.
-Charlie Hall

A new blog to share

This morning, I followed a link from a friend's blog and found this one: Bring the Rain I have been devouring everything I can from this blog during the morning lull at our house (Lydia is napping & Hannah is quietly watching Sesame Street.) The woman who writes it, Angie Smith, is married to a singer in the Christian group Selah. She offers some wonderful insight into authentic Christian woman/motherhood, and she offers special wisdom & support for women who have lost children through miscarriages, stillbirth & SIDS. I can only imagine the heartache about which she speaks, but if you've experienced it too, I think you'll find a great encouragement in her blog & her followers.

Today I was impressed with an entry about praying for our children throughout their day. Here is a link: