Overtures

"My new phone has a reject call feature with text messaging." "That's cool. But I don't even know what that means."

"Like I can reject a call and the person will receive a text message. I'll have to write some automated text messages."

"Like 'Busy, banging my wife'?"

"Um, yeah. Like that."

***

I have felt utterly exhausted by the last two weeks. I've been pushing through a couple of projects that were, in themselves, behemoths. I've been stressed and cranky and waking up thinking it was Sunday, only to horrifiedly realize it was Tuesday. I've showered the absolute minimum that a first world citizen can shower without receiving deodorant samples sent anonymously to my mailbox. Yet. And I entered into a new, financially imprudent love affair with the creme brulee latte (with soy!) at Sixbucks. My lands, is that the tonic of the gods.

*** I recently discovered we have the Gospel channel. This is not your standard Jaysus channel. It has really good programming! Not just Southern evangelical preachers trying to drain your pockets. It's good! Not that I could name a single Gospel artist, but they have a lot of contempo Christian concerts. I've watched the Jars of Clay concert twice already. Excellent. Even though the lead singer is dressed like Mark from "Rent" sans the hipster glasses. I think they are a highly underrated band. Their albums are all quite different in sound but the lyrics are consistently excellent; they are good studies of the uncliched faith journey.

*** In the midst of this end-of-semester distress and the condition of what Loverpants called "living under a rock; you didn't even know Gisele and Tom had their baby two days ago?!" I have really been moved by moments of sweetness from my family. The moments with Baby Girl when she takes her little pincers to my cheeks and, pinching the Cabbage Patchy flesh of my face, says, "Cheeksies! You so cute!" The moments when I don't at all deserve a hug and Loverpants gives me several in a morning.

I have also been returning again and again to Micah 5. I never knew how explicit the birth of the Christ child was, in prescription and spirit. That He would be born in the smallest of the tribes, that He would release Israel, and that He would be their peace.

In the last two weeks of fitful sleep and ever-expanding belly, I have called upon this peace to continue to reign in my heart and mind. I think of the sweetness of holding my own baby, and just the profundity of the Lord sending His own baby to earth to be stewarded by mere mortals, and I am closer to understanding how precious is the peace that was sent here for us to hold, like a mild little infant that so needs us to be still.

Let the Children Come

I was talking to our friend Hector, the person who was most instrumental, second to Loverpants, in guiding me through my conversion experience (from US measurements to metrics, of course).  I was sharing with him how I am struggling to orient Baby Girl to the church environment.  It's difficult on many levels, especially because sabbath is a longish day experience and worship doesn't really accommodate the toddler's activity level.  I was telling Hector how frustrated I was because it seemed like No One was hearing the full message, e.g. the sermon in its entirety because Loverpants and I were working so hard to corral Baby Girl, taking turns stepping into the Cry Room and never really getting the full download. Hector reminded me that our roles have shifted now.  We are parents trying to minister to our daughter's heart, yes.  But we are also just laying the foundations for worship, for a religious experience.  He reminded me that Jesus said, "Let the children come to me."  And yet for so many months, I have been the one shushing and holding back and clotheslining my kid from coming to know church as a place that loves children.

I am so glad that Jesus loves kids in all their unadulterated whimsy.

Like this one, for example.

She loves to play shaving cream table.

And then she loves to scratch her nose.

And use her pants in lieu of paper towel.

Wait, don't touch that --

Oh how I love those shaving cream hugs.

Help from Above

There is a verse in Psalms that says, "Children are an heritage of the Lord." I'd never deeply pondered it. I just thought it was a nice way of saying that God grows His family by blessing us with children.

But then I considered the significance of the word "heritage." And I considered how the verse doesn't say that my child is my heritage. My child, in fact, is part of the Lord's heritage. Placed in my care for a time indefinite. To raise her to know that her heritage, her belonging is of and in the Lord.

At first I thought this was very intimidating. Like having to hold someone's wedding rings and not only keep myself from losing them but to remember to bring them to the wedding on the right day. Only in this case, I am holding the life of a soul and need to make sure not to lose her and make sure she makes it into God's kingdom when that roll is called up yonder, y'all.

But then I considered that if my daughter is the Lord's own family, then He wants nothing more than to see her in Heaven. He will fight for her precious soul! He will strengthen me and give me everything I need if I only ask. I find such comfort and freedom in this! And yet, the more encouraged I am by this message, the more I so clearly see when I falter, when I am quick to forget that I am tending to the Lord's heritage and serving another master...

As my daughter approaches the "Training Twos," it is so clear to me how *everything* I do or fail to do influences her. I see how easy it is to be quick to anger STOP TRYING TO SIT ON MY HEAD; IT IS NOT AN OTTOMAN and slow to enforce discipline IF YOU STOP TANTRUMMING, THIS CUPCAKE CAN BE YOURS. This has been a physically challenging week with Baby Girl, and I almost cannot believe that I am not the one going to sleep at night in the crib with my pacifier and Curious George because I feel like such a big ween.

So I try to read things that will embolden me as a parent rather than the usual misery loves company. Here's a sampling:

"In their important work parents must ask and receive divine aid. Even if the character, habits, and practices of parents have been cast in an inferior mold, if the lessons given them in childhood and youth have led to an unhappy development of character, they need not despair. The converting power of God can transform inherited and cultivated tendencies; for the religion of Jesus is uplifting. 'Born again' means a transformation, a new birth in Christ Jesus.Let us instruct our children in the teachings of the word. If you will call, the Lord will answer you. He will say, Here I am; what would you have Me do for you? Heaven is linked with earth that every soul may be enabled to fulfill His mission. The Lord loves these children. He wants them brought up with an understanding of their high calling."

- Ellen G. White