Spiritual Lessons

February 8, 2016

When We Fear {for Velvet Ashes}

I’m honored to be writing over at Velvet Ashes today.

When We Fear~ As women, we instinctively understand what it means to fear.

As women, we instinctively understand what it means to fear. We fear that God won’t meet the desires of our heart. We fear being insignificant or ordinary. We fear rejection. We fear cancer stealing our lives or the lives of our loved ones. We fear tragedies and accidents. Fear is our default emotion.

Living abroad, I feared not having adequate medical attention. I feared that I had given up my opportunity to get married by moving to the middle-of-nowhere-China. I feared that I was missing everything back home—my nieces and nephews growing up, friend’s weddings, babies—all of it. I feared I would never fit in anywhere again. That I had lost my sense of home. I feared failure and not being able to tell my supporters that their money was well-spent.

When we become mothers, we board the Fear Train and never seem to be able to get off. With each of my babies, I spent the first year of their lives waking up terrified that I had rolled over them in the night—even when they were asleep in their cribs. When they started walking, I would leap out of bed in at night to prevent them from killing themselves in a multitude of creative ways in my dreams. Night was the time my every fear had its rehearsal.

Fear can consume us and spread like a communicable disease. I witnessed this in China after the Sichuan earthquake in 2008. Though we were hundreds of miles from the quake, we felt the earth riot violently and send our buildings swaying as if at sea. And the fear in the weeks following became a sickness. Many students refused to sleep in their dorms and camped outside. Students skipped class. Rumors of aftershocks and reports of the aftermath in Sichuan fed our fears. It was the first time I had experienced the choking power of fear to control en masse.

But God does not intend for fear to consume us…continue reading

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January 27, 2016January 13, 2017

When I Forget to Notice People

Lately, I feel like God is reminding me to notice.

Notice detail, notice people, notice Him. Because I haven’t been. And noticing is a prerequisite to thankfulness, praise, worship and action. I’m bumping along life without recognition, like the blind man who wasn’t completely healed and saw people walking around that looked like trees. I need Jesus to restore my vision completely. Because I have forgotten how to SEE people.

As I reach around my one-year-old strapped to my front, searching for my wallet and watching for my three-year-old who is most likely pulling all the chip bags off the stand or smearing the display case glass with finger prints, it catches me off guard when the cashier behind the counter asks me, “How is your day going?” or “Have you had a good morning?” The first few times this happened after moving to Colorado, I’m sure I just looked at them with my mouth hanging slightly open. Chicago is not an unfriendly city, but perfect strangers didn’t usually ask me such personal questions. How was I supposed to answer?

But the question, though I now realize was not a true venture into how I am feeling at the current moment, rocked me, because I hadn’t even noticed a person was there until they spoke to me. Worse, I would have gone through our entire interaction without even looking them in the eye.

In The Weight of Glory, C.S. Lewis says, “It is a serious thing to live in a society of possible gods and goddesses, to remember that the dullest most uninteresting person you can talk to may one day be a creature which,if you saw it now, you would be strongly tempted to worship, or else a horror and a corruption such as you now meet, if at all, only in a nightmare. All day long we are, in some degree helping each other to one or the other of these destinations. It is in the light of these overwhelming possibilities, it is with the awe and the circumspection proper to them, that we should conduct all of our dealings with one another, all friendships, all loves, all play, all politics. There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations – these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit – immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.”

People are eternal. And every.single.one. is made in the image of God Himself. So when I don’t see people, I don’t see God.

Lately, I have not only failed to notice strangers, but I have even forgotten to notice the people who are right in front of me–my children and husband. Now, I believe in rest, alone time, naps and hobbies, but I have begun ignoring my children even during times when I could be fully present with them. Scrolling Facebook during bath time, texting while I sit with them on the floor, and spacing out when they ask me questions, I spend the day lamely multi-tasking when I would be better off focusing on one activity at a time–mainly, my children. And I’m missing out.

And though love is not a fairy tale, how often do I take a second and really gaze into my husband’s eyes? How often do I think about him during the day or sit and talk with him face-to-face instead of operating in survival mode, ticking off tasks as we work side-by-side? When did I stop leaving him little love notes or sweet texts? Have I prayed for him today, yesterday or anytime recently?

The word I’ve chosen to focus on this year is “enjoy,” which begins with noticing. When I set aside my phone and to-do lists and intentionally notice people, I can begin to enjoy the people all around me.

If I would only ACCEPT that the pace of my life right now with two kids under three needs to be slower than I’ve ever been used to, I’ll begin to notice God in the details more than I ever have. For nature, strangers, friends, family, my children and my husband are really displays of the splendor of God at work all around me. If I will only take the time to notice.

Do you notice people?

How do you notice God?

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January 21, 2016January 13, 2017

Thursday Thoughts for Writers~Bread & Fish

On Thursdays this year, I’ll share thoughts, tips and inspiration for writers. I’m certainly not an expert, but am simply seeking personal encouragement in this art and want to share with anyone who’s also trying to find their way as a writer. These short posts will come from books, articles, the Bible, my own thoughts, and other people. Check back each week or subscribe for new posts. Please introduce yourself in the comments–I’d love to meet you and hear about your thoughts on writing.

Happy writing!

Leslie

We as writers are to be like the little boy who offered his lunch of bread and fish to Jesus to do what He would with it. I’m sure the boy assumed his gift would feed just one other hungry person, for this was all it was meant to feed. I doubt that he dreamed that his lunch would be multiplied to nourish thousands.

Like this boy, we are to humbly offer our words in faith and not be concerned with how God chooses to use them to bless others. We write from our depths, trusting Jesus to take our words and use them as He deems fit–whether it be to feed the soul of one person or thousands. That is not our concern, not really. Instead, we are called to offer what we have when we have it and let Jesus do the miraculous work of multiplication if that is what He wants to do.

There is peace in that for me today–I do the writing, but God does what He will with it. It takes the pressure off of self-promotion when I believe that these words of mine are now in His hands, ready to distribute to whomever needs to hear them today or years from now–even if it is just one person.

“He who watches the wind will not sow and he who looks at the clouds will not reap.

Just as you do not know the path of the wind and how bones are formed in the womb of a pregnant woman, so you do not know the activity of God who makes all things.

Sow your seed in the morning and do not be idle in the evening, for you do not know whether morning or evening sowing will succeed, or whether both of them alike will be good.”

Ecclesiastes 11: 3-6 (NASB)

We are to give our bread and loaves–our words. And to sow seed and write without being distracted by our statistics or readership. Because we have no idea what God will do with the simple gift our words when we offer them in faith.

Matt. 14
Luke 9

Do you believe God can use you and your words? Have you given them to Him and walked away?

How have you already experienced God using you in surprising ways?

~~~~~~

Previously on Thursday Thoughts for Writers:
Comparison

Art & the Alabaster Jar

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January 14, 2016January 13, 2017

Thursday Thoughts for Writers~Art & the Alabaster Jar

Happy writing!

Leslie

She tentatively tiptoes into the room, cradling her alabaster jar of perfume, the most expensive item she owns. She hears whispers and titters as she approaches The Teacher. He smiles gently, encouraging her as she approaches Him. Exposing herself to ridicule and criticism after coming out of a life of shame, she continues with what she is compelled to do, breaking and pouring out the jar onto her Lord and then wiping his feet with her hair. He touches her, and then silences those who protest, commanding respect for what she is doing, for it is beautiful to Him.

~~~~~~~~

The art that’s put into our heart to create is like this alabaster jar. As we, like Mary, feel compelled to carry it out into the world at risk of being ostracized, we pour out what’s most valuable to us in an act of extravagant worship. As we break our jars and offer our words, the scent permeates the page and drifts farther than we could have imagined, as an act of worship unto God Himself.

It would’ve been easier for Mary to pour out her jar privately, protected from the ridicule of others. But she did so before spectators, just as the writer willingly (or reluctantly?) submits himself or herself to an audience.

And like David, who insisted that He not present God with an offering that cost him nothing, so was her sacrifice. And so is ours…if we are brave. The risky words that cost us the most–that make us the most vulnerable–have the most power. If our breath doesn’t catch a bit before hitting publish or send, I wonder if we’ve put enough at stake.

The criticism Mary received is similar to what I face as a writer, though it’s often more of a wrestling with my own thoughts:

Why all this waste?

Why are you wasting your time when you could be doing something more productive? When you could be serving your family or at least contributing to the family income?

But what the world (or our thoughts) calls “waste,” Jesus calls beautiful. He operates within a different economy.

Let your most important words pour out this week without regard for what other people might think. Don’t listen to the lies that you are wasting time, money or relationships. If God is compelling you to write, then write. Keep pouring yourself out in worship to Jesus Himself–not others–because He calls the sacrifice of your words “beautiful.”

Mat. 26, Mark 14, Luke 7, 2 Sam. 24:24

Do you ever struggle with the feeling that you are wasting your time?

Do you ever see your writing as an act of worship?

~~~~~~~

Last week’s Thoughts for Writers~Comparison

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Linking up with Coffee for Your Heart and 3D Lessons for Life and Tell His Story and Live Free Thursday and Grace and Truth and Faith & Friends and Velvet Ashes

January 11, 2016January 13, 2017

Goodbye to the Other Leslies

I really thought my life as a nearly 37-year-old would look very different from the way it actually looks today.

As a 20-year-old, let’s say, I envisioned my future self as living in another country, speaking another language and having a family with bi (or tri)-lingual children. I planned on raising them to love other cultures, attend local schools, eat ethnic foods and travel the world. We would possibly even live without plumbing. And my husband would be right there beside me–leading people to Christ and possibly even preaching or teaching in other languages. That’s how it was supposed to go.

And if I stayed single? (my plan B) I’d get my PhD and have lots of disciple “children” in another country, like Amy Carmichael, who was a single missionary in an orphanage in India for over 50 years.

Oh how God has a sense of humor.

Though I was on that very path, God U-turned my life six years ago to bring me back exactly where I started (or so I thought). And I found myself living a life I never dreamed I’d live: an “ordinary” one.

The crossroads of life have a catch. Once you pass them, you can never go back.

I recently listened to a podcast called Sorta Awesome that talked about saying goodbye to all of your potential yous that never came into existence. And I feel it’s time that I bid those other Leslies adieu.

Goodbye to the single Leslie who would change the world.

Goodbye to the Leslie who would marry someone of another race and have gorgeous bi-racial children.

Goodbye to the Leslie who would marry someone in full-time ministry.

Goodbye to the Leslie who would get a PhD studying an ethnic minority in northwest China.

Goodbye to the Leslie who would be a social worker (my first major).

Goodbye to the Leslie who would transform the inner city of Chicago through her badass teaching methods…think Dangerous Minds (I tried that, actually, and that Leslie didn’t materialize).

Goodbye to the Leslie with 6, 8 or 10 children (probably not biologically possible for me anymore), or the Leslie who would be the “mom of boys” or “mom of girls” (I have a boy and a girl).

Goodbye to the Leslie who would be a nurse (I got accepted to nursing school, but didn’t go).

Goodbye to what could have been.

Hello and welcome to what is. To what God has done, is doing and will do.

Thank God for the roads taken and the roads not taken. Because at every crossroads, He was there. He was pointing, guiding, urging, leading and holding my hand, whether I knew it or not.

Goodbye, fair Leslies. Those would have been good lives, too, were they what God had planned for me. It turns out He wanted me to be a teacher, live for a time in China, be single for a season, finally marry an actor in Chicago, have two adorable stinkers, move to Colorado and begin a little blog.

And “ordinary” is relative, after all. This Saturday night, I cooked dinner to James Taylor in the background, with my one-year-old daughter on my hip, helping me deliver cardamom, cumin, coriander and turmeric to the counter to make chickpea curry. Meanwhile, my sick husband was curled up with tea, a cozy blanket and a book at the kitchen table.

In the other room, our son played with our former Saudi Arabian exchange student, laughing and making trucks talk back and forth. My daughter got bored “cooking” and dove into the cardboard box in the living room that is our best new toy.

Earlier in the day, we all squashed into our Corolla to drive 45 minutes up into the snow-covered mountains to Rocky Mountain National Park, pausing on turn-outs for breath-catching views. We put the kids to bed after dinner and conversations about the intersections of Muslim and Christian theology and melted into the couch to watch a new British murder mystery T.V. series.

Yes, our life is ordinary. But ordinary is the way your foot eventually molds grooves into stiff shoes. It is the way a gorgeous new dress gradually becomes “you” and a natural part of your wardrobe. “Ordinary” for us does not look like “ordinary” for others. In fact, your “ordinary” may be very exotic to me, and vice versa. Ordinary is no longer a bad word to me.

Though I am not changing the world at a macro level, love, cultures, food, friends, laughter and challenges are happening at a micro level under my roof just as they would have had I found myself on another path. This is the Leslie that God intended to be. So I will stop turning to look back at those other Leslies that could have been and allow them to fade into the distance, granting them a fond, but firm farewell. I do not regret a single road taken. Though life is not as I expected, it is still pretty spectacular, even in all its ordinary-ness.

What about you? How does your life look different (so far) from what you had planned for yourself? How have you seen the grace in that? I’d love to read your stories in the comments!

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~~~

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January 9, 2016January 13, 2017

Personal Discoveries in 2015: Friendships, Spirituality & Writing

If I had to divide my thoughts into reasonable categories for 2015, I think I'd go with making personal discoveries in the area of friendships, spirituality and writing.

I love the new year and the way it provides the opportunity to reflect on the past year and make plans for the year to come (maybe the teacher in me?).

This was yet another transition year for our family, as we moved across the country in April from Chicago to Colorado. It was a long time coming, so it was a welcome transition.

In addition to some practical media discoveries my husband and I made, I also made some personal discoveries in the areas of friendships, spirituality and writing.

Friendships
Though this was not a new thought to me, it has continued to bother me that it is so difficult to make friends when you’re in your 30’s. Truth be told, my friend-making problems began when I moved back from China and had serious reverse culture shock, then turned around and got married and had two kids right away. “The Narrowing” isn’t exactly conducive to forging strong new friendships. But as making friends has always been relatively easy for me, I think it’s surprised me that it no longer comes naturally.

So I think my major take-away from this year is that friendships take work. So basic, but so essential to grasp. They aren’t just going to “happen” any more the way they did when I shared a desk with my lab partner every day or did a weekly ministry with the same people. Now, my conversations are fragmented at best and my time without kids is infrequent, and yet I NEED girlfriends just as much as before.

I am still figuring this one out, but I’m realizing I need to put more effort into relationships and stop expecting them to just happen. More thoughts on this in future posts.

Spirituality
This year, I think I have finally been able to admit that I am a spiritual perfectionist. But I can’t just expect to meet with God the way I did when I was single or before I had children. I need to let go of the expectations I put on myself for what is “spiritual.”

Because I didn’t have my first child until I was 33, I think it’s been especially difficult for me to accept that I will not have my mornings to meet with God quietly as I always did. I need to embrace connecting with God in other ways. God’s love for me is not contingent on how many hours a week I clock in reading my Bible or praying. In fact, if anyone expects less of me in this season of life–and loves me for it–He does.

Writing
On September 30, 2015, I heard about this little challenge called #Write31Days. The idea is that you pick one topic and write about it every.single.day. for 31 days straight–starting October 1st. I had revived this blog just a few months before (and when I say revived I really mean started since not a person other than my husband knew it existed). And I can’t explain it, but I felt compelled to write. I knew right away that I had to write about my experience transitioning back to America after living in China (called “re-entry”). I had always wanted to begin writing, but never felt like it was the right time, but this urge was unmistakable.

So I wrote. For 31 days straight. My husband was amazing and so supportive. He was understanding of the freezer leftovers and take-out dinners, the piles of laundry in the den and the dirty bathrooms. He did then and still does read every post before I share it. He is my greatest encourager.

The words that come to mind when I think of those days of churning out posts and hashing out a very traumatic time in my history are healing and exhilaration.

Writing has always been therapeutic for me, but I had never invited anyone else into my emotional sphere the way blogging has forced me to do. And it freed me in ways I’m still trying to understand. The exhilaration came in the moments where my words touched even one person that I never met before.

It’s given me a forum for processing the confusion of returning overseas after feeling truly called to be a missionary. It’s given me the opportunity to reflect on what God is doing in my life right now as a wife and mother. And it’s brought me into contact with amazing women I might never have known if it weren’t for this mysterious online kingdom.

I think it’s ironic that I wrote about wasted gifts in one of my early posts, confronting the feeling like I’m wasting my education and Chinese language skills by staying home with children in America right now. Yet it’s exactly these circumstances that have provided an opportunity to finally pursue this urge to write.

And I love it.

What about you? What kinds of personal discoveries did you make in 2015?

Previous Post: Thursday Thoughts for Writers~Comparison

January 7, 2016January 13, 2017

Thursday Thoughts for Writers~Comparison

Every Thursday this year, I’ll share thoughts, tips and inspiration for writers. I’m certainly not an expert, but am simply seeking personal encouragement in this art and want to share with anyone who’s also trying to find their way as a writer. These short posts will come from books, articles, the Bible, my own thoughts, and other people. Check back each week and introduce yourself in the comments–I’d love to meet you!

Leslie

Do you ever struggle with comparison? What truths do you tell yourself to combat the lies in your head?

And if the ear should say, “Because I am not an eye, I do not belong to the body,” that would not make it any less a part of the body. If the whole body were an eye, where would be the sense of hearing? If the whole body were an ear, where would be the sense of smell?

1 Corinthians 12: 16-17 (ESV)

It is so easy for writers to compare themselves to others in the world of social media, measuring our worth by our number of “likes” or shares on Facebook. I have been struggling with this for the past few weeks, comparing myself to an amazing writer I’ll call X. But it was right before I fell asleep the other night that God brought a thought to mind,

The world doesn’t need another X, it already has one. The world needs a Leslie Verner.

And something about that brought me so much peace. Just as it is silly for an ear to try and be an eye, it is ridiculous to think that my writing would be the same as someone who lives in another part of the world, who has had a very different history from me.

The world needs you, too, even though you may feel like an insignificant little ear (I certainly do!). God wants to use you in your corner of the world as you sit typing away on your laptop or scribbling in your journal. You have a story and perspective to tell that no one else has. And God wants to use you as an eyewitness to complete the body of writers that are telling His story in the world right now.

Do you ever struggle with comparison? What truths do you tell yourself to combat the lies in your head?

Related Article:
Facebook Envy, by Brianna Dewitt

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January 5, 2016January 13, 2017

Eden & Vulnerability: Nakey, No Shame

My children like to do “nakey dances.” And there is very little that brings me as much joy in life as watching my two little people dance around in their birthday suits completely uninhibited, shaking their tiny bottoms and slapping their protruding bellies. Naked, and with zero shame.

So when I think of untainted, shameless Eden, what first comes to my mind is that Adam and Eve must have been the first to perfect the nakey dance.

I finally picked up a Brene Brown book recently to find out what all the fuss is about. If you haven’t heard of her, she became famous after giving this TED talk on vulnerability and has since written several books. She skirts around many Christian themes, but doesn’t seem to have an overtly spiritual message, yet applied to spiritual life, I think many of her concepts could revolutionize the community of the church. Here are a few quotes from Daring Greatly:

“Vulnerability sounds like truth and feels like courage. Truth and courage aren’t always comfortable, but they’re never weakness.”

“Because true belonging only happens when we present our authentic, imperfect selves to the world…”

“Courage starts with showing up and letting ourselves be seen.”

“There are many tenets of Wholeheartedness, but at its very core is vulnerability and unworthiness; facing uncertainty, exposure and emotional risks, and knowing that I am enough.”

Adam and Eve felt no shame before sin entered the world, so really there was no need for vulnerability. But after the fall, vulnerability is a ticket back to Eden because we must put everything on the line for Christ. And it is through this risk that we find we are loved utterly and completely. He looks at us as if looking at Himself, because we are made in His image. He took our shame on Himself so that we can experience delicious freedom.

While I accept this at an intellectual level and sometimes grasp it at a heart level, I also know that vulnerability does not end with me submitting myself to Jesus for salvation. It also applies to my marriage, my parenting, my friendships and the way I use my work and gifts to serve others. “For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it” (Mat. 16:25).

Where is vulnerability transforming my life from a life of fear into a life of power and freedom?

In my marriage, my husband’s devotion to me makes it easy for me to be vulnerable with him. I know from experience that if I were with a different sort of man, my tendency would be to close up, protect and retreat. But even so, it is still easy to keep the deepest corners of my soul locked away, waiting for my husband to “happen” to stumble upon them. But that is not realistic. Most men do not naturally ask soul-searching questions of their wives, so I need to be willing to lay out a few treasures that are reserved for him alone.

In my parenting, fear of loving too much prevents me from being vulnerable. What if I pour myself into my role as a mother–love them TOO much–and something happens to one of my children? How would I survive?

In friendships, there is the fear that if I am vulnerable with someone, they will not reciprocate by pouring out their heart to me. Or even worse, they will never call me again. And yet Mike Mason says in Practicing the Presence of People, “Flaws form the best glue for friendship. Indeed a friendship without many shared failures will remain stilted and lame. We connect with others not primarily through our strengths, but through our weaknesses” (pg. 240). We cannot have true friendships without vulnerability.

In August of 2015, I began blogging. It was terrifying and I felt like I was standing naked in front of my friends and family to be judged and ridiculed.  But instead of feeling defeated, I felt brave. Instead of feeling weak, I felt strong. I felt courageous in a way I have never felt before. And just as in marriage the nakedness gets easier the more you find you are loved and accepted not in spite of your imperfections, but because of them, being accepted for who I am as a writer has empowered me to keep writing.

Where is God calling you to be vulnerable this year? In a relationship? A new venture? A job change with less pay? A creative gift that you have shelved?

Pray for the strength to be vulnerable. Never accept vulnerability as weakness, because moving forward and risking exposure takes amazing bravery and courage.

If you want to return to Eden, ask that God remove your shame through Jesus so that you can dance the freedom of the nakey dance in every sphere of your life. It is a dance that is full of joy and delight in being accepted for who you are. Believe that you are a beloved child of God, extravagantly loved. Excessively loved. Be free, my dear. And put some new part of yourself on the line this year, something that requires just a bit of courage.

In what area of your life is God calling you to be more vulnerable?

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January 4, 2016January 13, 2017

What No One Told Me About Breastfeeding

Before I had a baby, I hadn't conceived of how amazing it would be to use my body in such a raw and mystical way to completely sustain another life.

When you are pregnant, there is no lack of doomsday warnings and terrible tales passed on in attempts to crush the spirit of the rosy-cheeked and hopeful mom-to-be. So by the time I had my first child, my expectations were super low. I was about to ruin my life.

And though I knew I wanted to breastfeed and was committed to it no matter what, I dreaded the soreness, time and late nights that everyone gave me dire warnings about.

So I was floored to make a discovery after my son was born: I loved it.

With my son, I planned on nursing for a year, but when that year came and went, I realized I didn’t have an endgame. And I really enjoyed nursing, so I wasn’t eager to wean him. I was thankful when he suddenly lost interest and weaned himself at 16 months.

Now, I’m considering weaning my 17-month-old daughter, so I’m feeling nostalgic. If we don’t have other children, these may be my last days of nursing a baby, which pulls on my mama heart in ways that watching our children grow can simultaneously bring us delight and sadness.

I know there are reasons people are not able to nurse their babies, but I wanted to write about some of the joy I personally found in nursing.

The Beauty
Before I had a baby, I hadn’t conceived of how amazing it would be to use my body in such a raw and mystical way to completely sustain another life. To know that the milk I gave my baby was tailored to their specific age and developmental needs and even contained antibodies to fight off diseases and potential threats in our home gave me peace at a time when I often wondered if I was doing everything right.

I first read the book Babywise, which advocated a strict schedule and strongly discouraged demand feeding. I did try and feed each of my children on a schedule of sorts, but I am so glad I read another book on breastfeeding, The Womanly Art of Breastfeeding (don’t be deterred by the cheesy title). Reading this changed my perspective on breastfeeding and taught me to trust my body and trust my baby.

Nursing is the most beautiful thing I have ever done with my body. Yes, the act that brought this baby into existence was beautiful and good, but making love takes effort and requires you to be actively engaged in the process. But nursing is a passive generosity (especially as you and baby get stronger), requiring the simple offer of yourself, cradling of your child, drinking in their new baby scent, nuzzling their soft peach fuzz head and allowing yourself to relax in the natural mystery of womanhood.

Night Vigils and Sleep Fasting
Though the tiredness struggle was more real with my second child, with my first baby, I thought about my evening vigils as “sleep fasting.” I tried not to complain to people the next day about my lack of sleep just as a fasting person shouldn’t complain about how hungry they are. My sleep was my sacrifice to God and to my baby. And God met me in the watches of the night as my husband slept and I and my baby listened to clocks tick, cars make their way home from clubs, bars and social visits and the old apartment creak in the night. When else do you sit awake in the middle of the night and do nothing but listen?

Solitude
As the feedings have become less frequent with each child, I find that I miss having an excuse to escape a crowd full of people to nurse my baby. Not that I haven’t done my share of public nursing (I’m a fan of using a cover, but admire women who whip it out–more power to you!), having nursed in parks, bathroom stalls, store dressing rooms, restaurants, movie theaters, mall benches and numerous parking lots. But there have also been plenty of church services, parties and weddings where I have been able to sneak away with my baby and allow myself to melt into the scene of mama and baby alone at last.

Now, my daughter’s body hardly fits on my lap and I can tell that she is not getting much milk at each feeding. She is a busy toddler and barely slows down during the day enough to sit on my lap anymore. So I continue to hold on those few times a day she still nurses and I can’t deny her when she gives me the sign language sign for nursing. I’m going by the “don’t offer, don’t refuse” method of weaning. So for now I will hold her squishy little girl body, with her wispy blond pig tales tickling my nose and her chubby hands grabbing my shirt and nurse her for just a few more days. Just a few.

Linking up with: A Proverbs 31 Wife and Literacy Musing Mondays

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December 26, 2015January 13, 2017

When You Feel Guilty About Your Blessings

What are God's gifts to you right now? Are you allowing yourself to enjoy them?

We spent Christmas at the nursing home, visiting my husband’s 94-year-old grandfather. Normally a vibrant conversationalist, each visit since he moved into the home a few years ago the conversations have gotten shorter as his mind loops back to the beginning of the conversation.

This time, the span was shorter than ever, including just one simple question about our children, “How old are they now?” he would ask. And then he’d comment on how he forgets that children show intelligence beginning at such a young age. He’d pause as other people talked, but soon would ask again, “How old are they now?” with the same genuine interest.

If my daughter lives to be 94, it will be the year 2110, which blows my mind. It feels like a very long time. And yet as soon as pregnant mothers pass from the random-stranger-warnings of, “Enjoy your sleep now!” they are hit with the next words of wisdom, “It goes SO fast!” But there are days when it certainly doesn’t feel like it’s going fast.

I had given up on the hope of having children. I was very much single on my 30th birthday and even after I got married a few years later, I told myself that I probably wouldn’t be able to get pregnant (to protect myself from disappointment). I eventually did get pregnant and then I told myself I’d probably miscarry or else there would be a serious problem with the baby. But there wasn’t. Apart from the Guinness Book of World Record-breaking long labor and a couple days in the NICU for a possible infection, we had a healthy boy. And it was love at first sight. I actually looked forward to waking up and seeing him in the middle of the night.

Two years later, I had another sweet baby, a little girl. Now my kids are three and 17 months and I’m realizing that this parenting thing is no joke.

The terrible twos were true to their name and other very helpful people told me to expect the threes to be even worse. Throw a new sibling and a cross-country move in there and you may as well double the tantrum quota each child is committed to fulfilling.

But lately, I feel God has been whispering something hardly intelligible into my ear:

Enjoy your kids, Leslie.

Enjoy them. Smile at them. Slow down. Laugh, dance, talk and pretend with them. Learn how to be a child again.

I feel much like Robin Williams in the movie Hook, who returns to Neverland as an adult after discovering he is Peter Pan. I have forgotten so much. When I was little, I always wanted to write a journal to my future self about what it’s like to be a kid so I wouldn’t forget. But I have forgotten. I now sit with the throngs of adults that watch children playing and say in a tired voice, “Where do they get all that energy?”

This summer I was in a multi-generational women’s book study. I felt like I was following along behind the older women, gleaning from their every scrap. One seventy-year-old woman shared that as she looks back at her life as a mother, she wishes she had enjoyed her kids more at the time. She regrets missing out on them.

But sometimes I feel guilty for my blessings. I feel ashamed that I have healthy beautiful children when so many of my friends can’t get pregnant. Or when others long to get married and are still waiting for God to bring along the right man or woman.

I hesitate to enjoy what God has given me out of guilt. But that is like me giving my son a bike and him never riding it because the neighbor boy doesn’t have one. It seems heroic, but he is actually depriving me of the pleasure of watching him enjoy a gift my husband and I wanted to bless him with.

God delights in watching His children take pleasure in the blessings He gives them even more than I enjoy my children’s happiness over a gift I give them.

Solomon writes, “I know that there is nothing better for them than to rejoice and to do good in one’s lifetime; moreover, that every man who eats and drinks sees good in all his labor–it is the gift of God” (Eccl. 3:12-13).

What are God’s gifts to you right now? Are you allowing yourself to enjoy them?

Yes, my life could be harder and I’m sure that there are times in the future when it will be, but am I enjoying life and all of God’s gifts right now? Or am I letting Satan steal my joy?

I’m praying that God would help me to love like crazy and stop holding back. I want to accept that He is elated to see the look on my face when I open His good gifts and delight in them as He intended. And right now, He is inviting me to enjoy my children.