On the Altar

For several months I’ve been earnestly praying that God would shape my heart to be a woman who serves Him well, a wife who serves N well and a mommy who serves our girls well. It started one night when I felt completely inadequate to be any of those things. Zoe was showing her independence, we had just had D & E for a weekend and I was easily frustrated with them, N wasn’t doing what I thought he should and I felt completely incompetent to be a wife and mom.


As I sat in prayer, I knew it wasn’t N or D or E or Zoe that was the problem, it was me and my heart. I realized that as long as I tried to control things, I would continue to stand in the way of all the things He could and would do for my family.

So for months I prayed for God to take my heart, mold it, shape it and make it His. While I’ve still got a long way to go, I know my heart is starting to change. My desire to control isn’t as strong as it used to be and my patience level has dramatically increased.

One thing, one story keeps coming to mind. It’s found in Genesis 22:1-22. It’s the story of Abraham offering Isaac as a burnt sacrifice. First off I just want to say how grateful I am that Jesus died on the cross and shed His blood so that we don’t have to do any kind of sacrificing. I don’t even like touching raw meat! Can I get an amen?



What I find most fascinating about this story is how it’s written to be so matter-of-fact. It lays out what Abraham was told, how he prepared, where he took Isaac and that God saw Abraham’s faith, stopped him and blessed his descendants. There is no editorial to the story. There is nothing that says Abraham’s men saw he was burdened. That Isaac had fear in his eyes as his father bound him. Nothing says Abraham didn’t sleep for three days or that he was often seen crying. As a parent, I’m convinced if the story was editorialized, those things and many more would be in it.

What strikes me most about this story is that Abraham was willing to give Isaac to God, no questions asked. As a parent, that’s how we’re supposed to be with our children. God didn’t give us D, E and Zoe. He put them in our care, but they are and always have been His. Zoe looks like me and can wiggle her toes like N, but she has never been ours. She is completely His.

Every day God calls me like He did to Abraham. Every day He asks me to put them at His feet, to trust Him enough with the most precious gifts in my life. I can honestly say there are many times daily, or even every hour, that I fail to accomplish this. My heart’s desire is to trust Him completely with my heart as a parent, with my heart as a wife and with my heart as His child.

There are times when it would be easier to say that I know better, that I cannot possibly do what He’s asked me to do. Yet, just like Abraham, we have to trust that His plans are greater than our plans. While I’m still discovering this truth, still learning how to trust Him completely and how to give up my heart for His heart, I am in awe of the things He’s doing to my relationships. I can honestly say I love deeper because of His hand in my heart. If that’s the blessing that comes from laying myself and the girls at His feet, I can in some ways understand Abraham better.

I'd Totally Become a Groupie

For several months now N has been part of the worship team at our church.  He plays his bass guitar, sits on a stool that is taller than all the rest and rocks out during worship.  It's awesome to see him doing what he loves and praising Jesus. 

I've gotten used to sitting in the fourth row and my paranoid about people staring at the back of me and thinking thoughts like, why would she wear that belt with those jeans or I hope that shirt looks better from the front!  What can I say, I've got some issues about being in the front row.  Although one Sunday we did start the wave, so it does have it's perks.

This past Sunday was extra special.  Not only did N play his bass, but he sang.  Not just with all the worship team, but with just one other guy.  He did a duet.  I've always known he could sing, but he's so modest about it.  Two weeks ago he went to men's camp, stayed up until near dawn jamming with the guys and apparently that cured him of whatever voice phobia he had. 

I couldn't be more proud.  It is amazing to be married to a man who loves Jesus and isn't afraid to show it.  It's even cooler when he's part of the band and I can sit in the fourth row and admire him.  I happen to think he looks pretty good. 

Thank you N for being our role model with your love for and desire to serve Jesus.  You bless and enrich my life.  I will forever be your groupie.

Our Dates

This weekend it seemed like N and I were in different directions.  He spend most of his weekend with his friends.  Friday night he had a friend over to play some World of Warcraft so Zoe and I went on a date to Red Robin for dinner and then to Grandma's house to make our Halloween costumes.

Saturday N went with some of the men from our church to help stack wood for a lady in our church.  She uses a wood stove as her main heating source in the winter, so every October the men in our church head to her house and chop the wood for her.  While it was quite a bit of manual labor, N had a blast.  I think it's fabulous that he dedicates his time on Saturday to help our church family.

That meant that Zoe and I were on our own.  We went to her school for a book fair, bought her some new additions to her library and then we went on date number two for lunch.  Then it was off to church for an ice cream social with some ladies to welcome our new pastor's wife.

What really hit me this weekend was how truly blessed I am.  I have a husband who loves his family, both our nuclear family and our church family.  I have a daughter who I am blessed to spend time with and actually wants to spend time with me.

Even though we were going in different directions this weekend, N and I had our souls fed with friendship and family. 

I think it was a good weekend for Zoe too.  She asked daddy on a date last night.

Thoughts Before Bed

The pneumonia is keeping Zoe fairly tired.  She is taking naps most afternoons and still ready for bed and sleeping in.  While I know she's feeling better, she's still just wiped out. 

Yesterday she fell asleep on the way to dance class.  When I tried to wake her up to see if she wanted to go to dance, she shrugged and said, "it doesn't matter."  I let her sleep and when we got home we couldn't get her to wake up until 5:45. 

That means she'll be extending bedtime a bit.  As we lay in her bed last night, with the lights out she got completely chatty.  Here's part of our conversation:

Zoe:  Mommy, what's your favorite part of today?Me:  Cuddling on the couch and watching Beauty and the Beast with you.  What's your favorite part?
Probably the same.  What's your favorite word?Love
What's love?
It's how I feel about you and daddy.  I love you both.  What's your favorite word?
Stink
Stink?
Yep, like a skunk stinks.  P! U!
Okay.
What do you think daddy's favorite word that starts with N is?Um, maybe noodle?
I don't think you know daddy very well! (laughing hysterically)

I'm not sure this would be funny to read or what Daddy's favorite N word is, but Zoe has totally random thoughts.  I'm so blessed to have these moments with her.  I love how her mind works.

Ants

Zoe has a new bedtime routine.  She is hungry or wants a drink of water or needs her doll or needs a blankie or needs to check on her school bag or ...

The girl has become the queen of stalling.

A couple nights ago she complained to daddy that she was hungry, this was their conversation:

Zoe:  Daddy, I'm starving.
N:  How can that be?  You've been snacking for most of the night.  How do you know you're hungry?
My tummy is talking!
Maybe it's upset and you need an antacid.
You can't eat those.  We don't eat things with ants on it!

My Heart Work

For the last year or so my heart has been burdened. God has placed my role as a parent, specifically a mother, on my heart. My mom is someone I can talk to about anything and I know I will always get first love and second wisdom. It’s true whether she agrees with me or she doesn’t.


She is someone who loves me unconditionally and sacrificially. I desperately want to be that mom to my daughters.

For the first few years of our marriage, I struggle with being a step-mom. Not because of the girls, but because of the relationship N and his ex-wife had. There was much baggage that surrounded that relationship and if effected our marriage.

Now that all that garbage is worked through, I’ve been burdened to be a mom to all three of my girls. Just because I may not be their “mom,” I’m absolutely blessed to be a part of their life and my love for them is the same as my love for Zoe. I desire the same relationship with all three of our girls. Because I’m the step-mom to D & E, I’m in a unique position to be an influence in their life without the stigma of being the “mom.” Already they tell me things and confide in me. I have a feeling I will know more about their lives than their parents do because I’m not officially their parent.

All that to say, my burden to be a good mom is even stronger.

I don’t want to discount the mom I want to be to Zoe, but the relationship isn’t as unique. I’m just her mommy and she’s just my little girl.

I’ve been praying for direction on how to balance being the mom who is training and shaping them and the mom who is an example. I know that may seem odd, but with the influence the world already has over our older girls, I find that my training and instruction has to be critically in line with my example for all three of them.

This weekend I had an awesome opportunity to attend a conference. Originally I thought it would be a time of learning how to minister to children through our church ministry, but I found workshops on parenting. I came away with great ideas on being a Biblical example and on discipline. It was as though God spoke directly to my heart.

While I’m still not sure what all this means and what He has planned, I know He’s working in me.

The Med Ward

For the last week Zoe has had a runny nose.  Like her mommy, she has allergies.  So I didn't think too much of it.  Until Monday when there was a cough to go along with the runny nose.  Because she didn't have a fever, I wrote it off as allergies again because my drippy nose makes me cough.

After her first field trip on Wednesday, she just seemed tired and lethargic.  I decided we needed to make a doctor appointment.  I'm the parent who like the doctor to tell me it's a virus than to assume, especially right before a weekend.

Wednesday night she ran a low-grade fever and the coughing began to hurt.  She complained of a sore throat and said her ears were talking to her.  When I asked her what they said, she replied "hmmmmmmm." 

We got an appointment for yesterday afternoon.  The verdict:  pneumonia.

My poor girl has pneumonia.  Fortunately it's just the start of it, so I'm hopeful with antibiotics and loads of rest this weekend we can keep her on the road to recovery.

Sometimes, even though she's a few months away from being 4, I still feel like she's my preemie.  Part of the concern with her as a baby was her lung development.  We stayed home and didn't go out to avoid any kind of lung-related illness.

I know she's closer to being a kid than she is a baby, but the fear is still very real.  If you feel led, would you pray for my girl?  I know our Great Physician has her in His hands, as well as her doctors, but I just pray that we can rest, relax and recover!