Category: my heart

Little Guy

We had a little guy for respite the past nine days (thanks, Matt, for the math). I can’t give out a whole lot of details about him, but I can tell you that he was tiny enough to utilize all of Hannah’s “new baby” things and sleep for the majority of the day and night (bonus!).

We weren’t given more than a handful of sentences of vague instructions on him so Matt and I studied him to figure him out. Since we weren’t given a general bedtime for him, the first few nights were very trial and error oriented. But we eventually fell into a “normal” routine with him.

The girls adored Little Guy, enjoying his “real life doll” qualities and returning him when their attention spans moved on. “Where baby go?” was a common phrase from Abi as she suddenly came to the reality throughout the day that she hadn’t checked on Little Guy recently.

She was always ready to hold him, 
never turning down a single offer. 

 Look at her little Mommying. =) She was so preciously gentle with him.

Little Guy just snuggled right into our family and provided (Matt and I joked) “training wheels” for our soon-to-be addition of Hannah. I even got to play with cloth diapering Little Guy when he ran out of disposables a day and a half early of his pick-up date.

Little Guy… I don’t know if we’ll ever get a chance to meet you again. But I won’t forget your snuggles. And the way you scaled my shoulder, from the outside in, a few days after you met me until you were comfortably nuzzled in my neck. Thank you for trusting me.

Trust may not come easily to you. Most babies your age are more entertained by faces, studying them and wanting to interact with them. It took you a while to watch my face for more than a glance-by. You studied objects and flocked to fluorescent lights. Maybe faces were too inconsistent for you. Maybe you were guarding yourself. Maybe the lights reminded you of the NICU. Who knows. But thank you for getting to the point of studying my face for a few minutes by the end of your stay. Your eyes spoke volumes.

Precious boy, if I can leave you with nothing else, I want to leave you with the hope you listened to me singing with the congregation on Sunday morning. With your ear to my heart you heard:

” How sweet to hold a newborn baby;
And feel the pride, and joy he brings;
But greater still the calm assurance,
This child can face uncertain days because He lives.
Because He lives (you) can face tomorrow;
Because He lives all fear is gone;
Because I know He holds the future,
And life is worth the living just because He lives.” 
 (“Because He Lives” by Gloria & William Gaither copy write 1971)

And
“I need no other argument, I need no other plea;
It is enough that Jesus died,
And that He died for me.”
(“My Faith has Found a Resting Place” by Lidie Edmunds & William Kirkpatrick to a Norwegian Folk Melody.)

I sang these over you throughout the week. And I prayed over you that you would one day see that despite the pain and loss and uncertainty, Jesus is more than enough. No other argument than Jesus is needed in this world and because of His hope, tomorrow is able to be faced.

Thank you for the opportunity to love you, sweet Little Guy, and if we never meet again, I take comfort in my prayers and my family’s prayers for you not falling on deaf ears.

I loved you like my own, Little Guy, even if we only had you for a week.

How you blessed us.

– Thank you, Jesus.

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For Another Day…

” I believe in the sun even when it is not shining. 
I believe in love even when I cannot feel it.
I believe in God even when He is silent.” 
– written on a wall during the Holocaust –

If there is anything I have learned time and time again in this world, it’s that there are so many questions without answers, so many hurts without visible justice, so many tears in what can feel like silence.

But when I open the Word of God, His love compels me toward faith. His consistency. His unchanging forgiveness. His character proves and has proven ore and ore that His promises remain.

When it feels hard, uncomfortable, and things here in this world hurt, our hope is found in Christ alone. And all we need to do to remind ourselves of the Hope in Christ is open the Word to Revelation. He wins. Justice takes it’s final judgement. And there are no more hurts, tears, pains and sins causing all those.

He wins.

So keep holding on for another day… cause that’s what it means to live by faith.

– Reminded lately.

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Causing the Father to Run

Sometimes it’s just downright hard to be a Mom.

Every child grows, matures and changes differently. There are graceful transitions and there are really hard phases that seem to last F.O.R.E.V.E.R.

But it’s in those harder transitions, like teaching your child the power of self-control and self-soothing, that really pull the depths of a mother’s, this mother’s, heartstrings.

Self-control has been a skill of Rachael’s from being very small. She seems to be wired with patience, nurturing and self-control. Her tantrum phase was almost non-existent. Words mean so much to her that she is more apt to tantrum through words (i.e. whining and defiant speech) than physically lose it.

Abi is the complete opposite. To Abi, words are effective communication, but there is also a bottled passion within her that she explodes in defiance and frustration when she is unable to communicate her emotions/needs to you or when she feels that her emotions/needs were not accepted. Mixing that deep passion and need to express herself with learning communication (which can be frustrating) and her deep need for physical forgiveness (i.e. you holding her to help her self-regulate and let go of the deep hurt) often creates a hurricane within her.

While Abi has been making GREAT strides in advancing her self-control to remain in the time-out chair during “cool down” moments. There has always been a part of Abi’s character that needs physical touch to regain self-control. Even as a young baby, she needed to feel your calm heartbeat and deep breathing to regain her own self-control. We’ve tried the “cry it out” method to no avail and only to witness her choking, coughing and in complete shaking distress in various ages/stages.

Working it out by herself just does not work for Abi. It’s just a fact. But I am hopeful with continued consistency, time and maturity she too shall learn the power of self-control and self-soothing.

But there are definitely boundaries so as not to create complete reliance on Mommy or Daddy to begin to regain her self-control. She just needs slower, simpler steps as she slowly learns self-control and advances in communication with maturity.  We do a lot of helping her to learn feelings words and appropriate expression of her deep hurts. She is a child of great passion, and I adore her for that. So teaching her to control those wild passion horses is a life-lesson relearned and relearned with each stage. 

And there are those really hard moments of teaching self-control in the midst of desiring the best for Abi and modeling acceptance of appropriate behavior. This is one of my hardest challenges with her. It breaks my heart to hear and witness her working herself into complete hysterics. I wish I could just learn the lesson quickly for her, but if I’ve learned anything it’s that Abi just needs time.

It’s hard when she makes the turn from disappointment and frustration to desperately trying to regain self-control. She has become her worst enemy and she is trying to communicate her want to be rescued and to regain control. It’s hard in those moments and my heart breaks for her as I do my best to stick to communicating my consistent expectations of her and the small steps to regain self-control.

It’s that “Mommy… Mommy,” as she pleas in utter exhaustion, abandoning herself willingly to attempt anything I say because she just wants the hysterics to stop. It’s the “Please… Mommy… please,” as she tries to breathe deeply and calm her hysterical diaphragm. It breaks my heart, pushing me to work past tears in my own eyes to repeat the familiar step by step instructions and give her the time she needs. I want so badly to save her from herself. But I know that I cannot physically be her self-control for the rest of her life.

Slow, slow steps forward. With much time needed and given.

In an instant of followed directions, even the slightest steps of success in self-control, my arms are out to her. She rests her head on my shoulder and her body almost instantly calms. Her breathing regulates. Her heart stops racing. All that’s left of the hurricane is a semi-radical diaphragm, reminding us both of the last forty-five minutes of hard learning.

My precious Abi… Mommy’s heart breaks for you in some lessons. I wish I could scoop you up out of the mess you have put yourself in. But it must be your will to turn from your rebellion. It must be your choice to desire obedience. I just wish it didn’t have to be so hard sometimes.

But God is teaching me the waiting, the praying and the hurting that caused the Father of the returning prodigal son to run.

I adore you, little girl.
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For My Abi

It’s something in that startling reality. It hit me last year too. That here amidst the fuss of VBS, my baby has gotten older. I knew it would come. I’ve watched you stepping out, embracing your independence, and conquering your discoveries.

Two had to come. But there is still something bittersweet about that reality.

I wonder at who you will be with how far your little personality has grown in the last year. Your character blooms with each morning. Your stubborn little likes and vibrant joy. That smile that ignites a room and turns us all to mush. Those blond ringlets. Your sweet little baby-fat cheeks. Your dimple. How you look like a little Daddy – with meat on your bones. Oh, little Abi how you melt Mommy’s heart.

And the way you snuggle in close. And have those moments where only Mommy will do. When you first wake up from nap or sleeping through the night and you just want to sit with me – you come running to find me, many times fussing until you find me, just to sit. Just to breathe together with your head on my shoulder. Your little world is all right again. All is in order. Then after five to ten minutes you slowly slip off, announcing your desire to start your morning or afternoon. You just needed me. And how I love needing you in those moments too.

Abi your little brave heart – diving into the dirt, fully-alive… tasting, experiencing to the full. Your all-in bravery wells up within you until you just can’t contain it. It makes you run at full-force into the playroom, following the lead of your sister’s good idea. It makes you leave Mommy’s side all at once and dive into the paint with two hands. What once was anxiety is now completely acceptable and inviting. My little Abi… so full of life.

And your shy, quiet Abi moments, clinging to Mommy’s leg. A noise that was too much, an animal moving unexpectedly at the Zoo. I can hear it a mile away running down the hallway or across the room, “Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!!!” You find your safety and reassurance in my arms again. The trust causing your body to calm. The fear releasing as safety and calm creep in. You make me feel like such a hero sometimes, Abi. I don’t deserve that kind of love and trust.

And even those little spit-fire independence tantrums. Things not going according to plan. Love, the passion in your little soul welling forth. Such promise it holds with a little self-control. I remember my own zeal. Justice is a need – even if right now it’s selfishly driven. Keep that spunk, little one, even when it feels more like rebellion and Mommy has to teach you the hard lessons of self-control and “being stubborn about the right things.” Your heart and passion are such a beautiful thing to watch mature.

So tomorrow as we celebrate you, my dear Abi, even if Mommy has a little tear as the birthday slide show scrolls through your baby and young toddler pictures, please know:

Mommy loves you beyond words. Your beautifuls and your discipling moments. You hold a precious little place in my heart, my Abi…. my precious Abi. And it has truly been a privilege to hold your hand, snuggle you close, and let you go as I watch you grow into a little girl.

Baby… you’ll always be Mommy’s baby… no matter how many other ones come into our family. And I hope and pray and look forward to the day when I will get to call you more than Mommy’s baby, but also my sister in Christ, Lord willing. Oh my Abi, how much the Lord has blessed us and me personally when He added you to our little family. And He is blessing me and challenging me and teaching me and growing me through the joy and the delight of you, my Abi Grace.

Happy 2nd Birthday, my Abi. 
Happy indeed. 

– I love you.

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