Squiggles, Swipes, and Swirls

Angel settled in for the evening at home with the babies. My Little Man, dressed in concert attire, packed his trumpet and headed to the van. That left my Little One and Princess to join Sweetie and me for the middle school Christmas concert.

This particular night was nothing unique except that there were only four of us in the pew waiting for the concert to commence. To pass the time, my Sweetie pulled out his new Xoom and opened a drawing app. This intrigued my girls. Only one swipe of the finger and he passed the tablet to my Little One. She made another single mark and passed it on to Princess. She followed suit, made her mark, and passed the Xoom back to Sweetie. Squiggles, swipes, and swirls of different colors and widths produced a picture that none of the three anticipated as the result. Each one began with a different plan. Their plan changed at each turn. In the end, the design bore its own stamp of individuality.

Our pastor reminded me of this as he spoke this morning. Surely Mary, the mother of Jesus, formulated her own plan for her life. I cannot imagine that carrying the Christ child was part of that initial plan. How would she explain this phenomenon? How would this mark in her life make any sense? Yet, in her sweet submission, she took that next step of obedience and yielded to the eternal mark that God would place in her life.

As God leads me through life, there are marks of different colors, sizes, and lengths etched into each day. The beauty of some marks takes my breath, while others bring tears and hurt. I would love to draw my own plans for life. Had Mary been able to do that, she would have missed the ultimate blessing of mothering the Son of God.

What tomorrow will bring I do not know. I am confident that God will produce a picture beyond my imagination.

Baptism

My little one was dunked on Sunday, and that made my sweetie and me smile.
Obeying God by identifying with him in baptism often means stepping out of your comfort zone. Many never go there. I have been blessed to have watched all of my biological children step in to the baptismal pool in sweet obedience.
On Sunday, my little one joined two others who, by the way, were new believers at age 70+. For her, obeying God at such an early age lays the groundwork for obedience later. As a pastor of mine taught, obedience brings blessing. I am excited to watch how God will continue to work in her little heart.
She had been asking us for awhile about baptism, but we held off as she is only seven. Granted, we have had other children baptized even younger, but we wanted to make sure that she was doing it for the correct reason and that we were confident in her salvation experience. Last Sunday was her day.

What I Love About my Little Man

• He plays hair dresser with Sunshine and tackle with Daredevil
• He knows how to change diapers
  
• He is not afraid to let his heart full of emotion overflow at times
• His excitement to try new things is contagious
• He knows how to type and is amazing with the computer
• He knows how to cook and do the laundry yet is a crazy maniac on two wheels
• He is wowed by how God works in the little and big ways
• He sings with all his heart and plays sweet music on his trumpet
• He still gives me hugs and kisses
• He is sweet with the little ones at our church
• He knows how to change the fuses in our “bus”
• He is a good friend
• His giving heart cannot wait until Christmas
• He is the kind of kid that likes to go to “Grandma’s” to cook one weekend and to “Grandpa’s” to work on the erector set another weekend.
• He blogs
• He is really cute (I can say that as his Mom)

Moments

Up two times with the baby (Tiger) to eat, once with the toddler boy (Daredevil) to quiet his heart about a dark room, and once with the toddler girl (Sunshine) to calm her after a coughing bout made for a earlier than necessary wake-up call to the day. I needed something or someone supernatural to intervene. It had been a long night.

When Sunshine began to whimper around 3:00am, I made my way cautiously down the hall hoping that my cold toes would not meet an unfortunate injury on toys left from the day’s play. My mind slipped from that cautiousness for a split second as I reached into the closet to find an additional blanket. I turned and fumbled over a box of Polly Pockets, hoping that my not-so-quiet response would not wake any other sleepers in my house. Sunshine would only lie down if I promised to stay in her room. I bedded down on the patchwork carpet amid the rubble of Polly’s, craft supplies, and piles of laundry. I had forgotten to throw on my sweatshirt or bathrobe, so as I lay on the pink heart pillow, I pulled a dress left on the floor from the previous night’s concert and lay it over my legs wishing that it would ward off some chill. In my sleep deprived delirium I related my position to one sleeping homeless amidst piles of random stuff, clothed in the basics, and kept warm with only what was available. A far cry from reality, I know, but, that was my reality in the wee hours of today.

Sunshine’s breathing slowed to a peaceful sleep. I crept down the hallway again and climbed into my own bed, pulled my own blankets up around my head, listened to my sweetie’s hushed breathing, and wished for a few more hours of sleep. I think I was dreaming.

My little ones are certainly high maintenance. I am dependent on God’s grace and power in my life to make each day one that matters. I often find it hard to look past today, plan for tomorrow, or even think into the afternoon. Yet, I have to remember that even the moments in the middle of the night that frustrate me are ones written down by my heavenly Father. He sees me cold, on the floor, bleary eyed, on the verge of exhaustion. He also knows what my tomorrows will be. He knows how far these babies will be able to push my limits of sanity and how deep a love will grow in my heart for them.

I needed a nap today. I have no idea what this evening will bring. Thank you, God, for each moment.