In This Village

“It takes a village.” A group of people. A network of friends and family. An abundance of love. I’ve spent the last week or so reflecting on the people in our life-- family, friends, acquaintances, the people we’ve deemed ‘family ’ by choice. I’ve thought about their presence in our lives in the last two months as we’ve walked through dark days. I’ve thought about their constancy to check in with us, just one more time, to make sure we’re doing ok. But today, I’ve found myself thinking about their importance to Abi Kate.

She is 18 months old today. At this time a year and a half ago, I was snuggling her up and breathing her in, completely overwhelmed by the fact that she had arrived. The months passed and Tommy & I learned parenting and all its complexities. We loved her more deeply as time raced on-- and we were not alone.

We, of course, love Abi Kate unyieldingly. The sacrifice and dedication to her life flows easily from Tommy& I because she is ours-- an extension of us as individuals and as a united couple. But to see other people love her in that way…. It truly fills my heart with such gratitude and unrelenting tenderness. It has been so unexpected for me that others, even our friends, would love her enough to care about her well-being.

When I’m out of the room and walk back in to see you playing with her, even when your own children are with you-- I notice. 

When you hug her and tell her you’ve missed seeing her-- I notice. 

When you gently correct her because you care about her heart and her character-- I notice. 

When you  take time to listen to what she’s saying-- I notice. 

When you bring her little gifts-- I notice. 

When she is genuinely excited to see you-- I notice. 

When you ask me to bring her along too-- I notice.

 When you point out the ways she is changing and growing-- I notice.

I notice your sacrifice. I harbor an endless amount of appreciation for you.

It has literally stopped me in my tracks so many times… that my friends who have their OWN children to love and adore, would take the time to love my child as well. I am so deeply humbled by that expression of care. In the same manner, when I see my friends who do not have their own children yet, come alongside us and love her-- ask how she is, ask to see her, hold her and embrace her… I again find myself feeling so unworthy of that, yet desperately grateful that they would share part of themselves with her. Even without being parents yourselves, you all have known how to love her so well.

I want her to experience the authority of others. I want her to be taught and loved by others, so that she will learn different viewpoints and understand this life with greater depth. I want her to see the character traits that I lack inside other people that share life with us, so that she will adapt those traits. I want her to see how other believers live and love this broken world so that she might do it too. And if she is surrounded, not just by Tommy and me, but by all these other incredibly selfless people then maybe she will have the best parts of all of us.

I am so grateful that we have not walked these last 18 months alone. If you have invested in Abi Kate, have loved her, have hugged her, have shown her grace, have said encouraging words to her… If you have helped us raise her and helped us love her, if you have made our child your child in any sense…. Thank you. Thank you for being a part of this village. There are so many of you but not enough words or tears to explain the importance and value it is in my heart. We are indebted to your kindness and benevolent acts of love. 

“It takes a village to raise a child.” Today, I am so thankful- as parents and for our daughter-- for the village we have found ourselves in. 

Parenting a 1 Year Old (a.k.a A Great Need For Coffee)

I know it appears that I have become lazy and slacking in this blog, but I promise I haven’t, at least not completely.  My laptop suddenly died and it was in the “shop” for a week (while I had all sorts of withdraws.) Even though it’s only been 2 or 3 weeks since my last post, it seems big stuff is happening around here anyway…

Um, friends---one of you or some of you neglected to tell me that a one year old is very different than an infant. A lot different.  In a lot of different ways. Raise your hand if that was you!!  ;) Abi Kate is 13 months old now and started walking about two weeks ago, right at the end of month 12 (which I predicted. See, do I know my girl or what?!) . She transitioned from only taking a few steps at a time to wanting to walk more often than crawl much more quickly than I expected. I think it’s probably because she is a later walker. Anyway, she thinks she’s big stuff when she makes it all the way across the room. She’ll throw herself into the couch after making it and start laughing. The other day I was in the kitchen and she came toddling out of her bedroom. I’m so used to seeing her crawl that it looked bizarre. She’s also started standing herself up alone, not pulling up to stand to walk. It's so fun watching her newly found mobility.

I didn’t think it was possible, but she is busier than she was before, even too busy to sit down and eat sometimes. She’ll immediately start saying, “Down! Down!” as soon as she gets in the high chair. Fun times. Her personality keeps evolving and I love the little person she’s becoming. She’s quite strong willed (we all know she got that from Tommy. If we could just make him a little more laid back…. Ha!) and pretty opinionated on what she wants to do and frequently on what she does not want to do. We are learning the ropes of discipline with her, what works for her and what doesn’t. She’s our little social bug, which we both love about her. She walked across the chiropractor’s office the other day to an older woman, arms outstretched, and climbed right into her lap. Stranger danger, anyone?! 

I really didn’t anticipate there being such a big difference between a 12 month old and an 11 month old, but in Abi Kate’s case, there has been. I’ve heard my mom say countless times that about the time you get them figured out, they change what they’re doing again. Or as my friend Rachel says, “Once you figure out what makes them tick, they start to tock.” So true. It’s been that way all through her little life so far,but I’m loving the journey just the same. She is entering into such a FUN age. She wants to play with us, she adores all music and dances and claps and shouts “Taomp!” (stomp) and pats her little foot on the floor.  

As she has gotten more independent and become more of her own little person, I’ve seen some other traits emerge. Some of them being a bit less than lovely. She has a pretty quick temper and is easily (and loudly) angered when she’s removed from somewhere or something. She started by throwing herself back and shouting, “No! No! No!” and kicking her feet. Oh dear. And then she’d get so frustrated she started to bang her head into the carpet and look at me for a reaction. This first time she did this, I pretty sure I said, “For real?!” (Sorry sister, not acceptable.) Some of that of course results from lack of communication skills and an inability to reason. It’s age appropriate. But some of it is just her personality. A few days after her first birthday, she had a day where these throw downs happened quite often throughout the day. I remember sitting in her room while she played that afternoon and just crying-- not because I didn’t know how to handle her or was exhausted, but because I SO identified with how she was feeling. I literally remember feeling angered beyond words as a 4 year old (my poor mom). And I was so upset because I know she got those traits from me. I was almost even embarrassed, just sitting in my little house alone.  I’ve always been easily and quickly riled up. Shocking, I know…..;) I never actually minded that about myself until I got older; and now that I have a daughter, I most definitely mind that about myself. It’s been something I’ve always struggled with. I think maybe I’ve gotten better with age, but not a whole lot. It was one of those things I wanted to get rid of so my children didn’t see me exhibiting such behavior and mimic me (I promise I don’t stomp my feet and shout no when I’m mad. Funny image though, right!?). Anyway, when Tommy got home I cried to him too, (bless him for listening to my 9000 meltdowns) and told him I didn’t understand why she was this way. She was so young, honestly too young (in my opinion) to be exhibiting learned behavior in response to an abstract situation. So I told him maybe she’d heard me when I was pregnant with her, when I was less cautious. She’d felt my emotions and quick frustrations and adapted them. I know I was kinda reaching there. Maybe not my most rational moment. Either way, I felt terrible because I felt like I’d passed on these ugly characteristics to her, and I felt discouraged because I felt like my best efforts weren’t producing desired results.

And then I ran across this and it basically slapped me in the face.

"How can we tell whether our efforts at parenting are motivated by reliance on God's grace or on self-trust? How can we know whether we're trying to obligate God or serve Him with gratitude? One way to judge is to consider your reaction when your children fail. If you are angry, frustrated, or despairing because you work so hard and they aren't responding, then you're working (at least in part) for the wrong reasons. Conversely, if you're proud when your children obey and you get those desired kudos - Oh! Your kids are so good! - you should suspect your motives. Both pride and despair grow in the self-reliant heart."  Elyse Fitzpatrick

I was so convicted of the despairing section, of depending solely upon myself. Abi Kate isn’t really old enough for us to have moments yet where we revel in her public behavior as opposed to other children’s. Babies are babies. But I will remember that part as well in the coming year because I will SURELY be needing it.

This is what I’ve come to realize about myself-- having a degree in “kids” has been both beneficial and harmful for me in regards to parenting. My degree is birth-3^rd grade. I love little friends. I am comfortable with understanding milestones, gauging age appropriate behavior/expectations, and helping her reach or discover her next level of understanding. Having been around lots of newborns and babies throughout my kid/teenage years made a lot of “first time mom” things much, much easier.  I can’t tell you how many diapers I’d changed before having Abi Kate but it was a lot. I’d rocked fussy babies and know that sometimes they just cry and nothing works. Patience comes easily to me in dealing with little children because I know they’re just learning and childish behavior is to be expected. And even being a Nursing School drop-out helped in lots of areas as well, particularly in health, nutrition, breastfeeding, etc. But here’s what I’ve learned-- it is TOTALLY different when you have your own child. It doesn’t matter how much you know about child development, concern still crosses your mind in regards to your own child. The knowledge helps, but your own child is a different story. For example, I mentioned earlier that Abi Kate has been so on the go since she started walking, that she’s not interested in sitting down for a full meal. I know this is age appropriate behavior. I know that this is what toddlers do-- some meals they’re famished and eat like an adult, other meals they eat mostly air. My brain knows this, but did I still feel concerned over her when she started doing that? Yes, I did. Did I ask my been-there-done-that mom friends if their kids hit this phase to give myself a bit of comfort? You bet I did. And I have found that in raising Abi Kate, my experience is no different. I can discipline or correct an entire group of 20+ 4 or 5 year olds and not feel a bit concerned. But when it’s my own child it’s different, because I can’t apply what I did with those children to my own child. In essence, with a classroom, I was merely correcting behavior. I’m not simply correcting behavior with Abi Kate, I’m striving to correct her heart. So the approach is and must be entirely different. I naturally want to fall back into behavior modification strategies, etc. when teaching her how to better respond to a situation. But all that does is alter the behavior. It doesn’t correct the root of the problem, which is her heart. In the classroom, I needed quick results so we could continue learning and playing. I wasn’t in a position, legally, to discuss in depth heart issues with those children. But I’m not in the classroom anymore, and my calling in parenting Abi Kate is much higher than my call in the classroom. I find myself re-reading the above quote, reminding myself not to be self-reliant, to trust in the wisdom of the gospel message and in the capable, omniscient guidance of Christ.

We’re learning a lot these days as far as parenting goes. I’ve always believed that the needs of one child are different than the needs of another, that a “one-size fits all” approach doesn’t work, and that continues to be impressed upon me the older Abi Kate gets. What works now might not work later. I’m learning that we’re going to make mistakes, as much as we don’t want to. But the world will keep spinning. Abi Kate doesn’t require perfectionism from us. One thing I can say for sure-- I’m so grateful to be learning with Tommy. He balances me, reminds me that it’s ok to make mistakes, and reminds me to rely on faith. He makes parenting look easy. I’d like to say that I’ve taken all his wisdom to heart and don’t have a problem applying it. But well, I’d just be lying. :) I’m working on it….and in the meantime, I’ll just fill up my coffee mug again! Because seriously, as soon as she's awake, I'm gonna need it! :)

The Passing of a Season...

Ever feel like you’re grieving over something that seems slightly nonsensical? That’s kind of where I’m at right now. I don’t know why Abi Kate’s approaching birthday has been difficult for me to embrace. It is a great thing, a beautiful thing. We are celebrating a full year of life with her, her health, sweet memories, and all that she has become. I think maybe I’m just grieving the ending of this season of life with her-- the first year with her and all that entails. Or maybe I’ve just been watching a few too many episodes of 'Friday Night Lights'-- because all I’ve thought about the last few days is how Abi Kate is going to grow up and go away to college and be her own person like the daughter in that show. Not gonna lie-- I totally cried when that girl pulled out of the driveway. I don’t even like her character. She’s selfish and kind of a butt, but I was still crying on the end of the couch. That’s like 17 years away. Were those tears really rational?! Probably not….

You know some tears that were rational, though? I was laying in bed last night, thinking about this past year with her, thinking about how at this time last year I was hugely pregnant and very uncomfortable. I was contracting off and on (until I hit 38 weeks and then it just kinda stayed ‘on’). I was getting ready to begin my maternity leave. I was anticipating the arrival of our daughter and the changing of our lives. I was downing an entire family sized roll of Pillsbury chocolate chip cookie dough. By myself. In like 2 or 3 days time. (Oh my word that’s so nasty and embarrassing. I swear that was the only time I ate such garbage during my pregnancy. Please don’t tell my midwife!)  Seriously though, my life was different then. I went to bed and thought about the future, praying it would hurry up and arrive. I woke up wishing it had arrived and wishing that I was in labor. These days, I find myself going to bed and just praying that I could freeze time, that it would stop slipping away from me so quickly, that the future would just take its sweet  time arriving. While I was laying there thinking about these things, I felt that big thick lump where you’re trying to stop yourself from crying. You know you’ve had that, too! I kept telling myself it was dumb to cry over her growing up and to just quit it. (You talk to yourself at night like this too, right?!)  But I reasoned with myself. I decided it was ok to be sad, to miss this time with my baby girl. I thought about going into her room, risking waking her up, just to hold her and rock her or nurse her. I watched the monitor and hoped I’d see the red lights flickering and I’d hear her cry. But she didn’t. She doesn’t need me in the nighttime much anymore the way she used to. So I cried. I cried for times past that won’t happen again. Oh, I’m sure we’ll one day have late nights with another tiny crying baby, or at least I hope we do. But it won’t be with her. We might even have nights where Abi Kate cries out and needs us, but it won’t be that little bitty baby that fit so perfectly just on my chest. There will be great times in the future, but they will be different. And so I cried for that. I laid there and started to get the snubs (you know where your whole body shakes and you make that really loud sniffly noise because your nose is running.) I thought it might wake Tommy up, and honestly, I wanted it to. (Sorry babe!) I mean, at least he can be sad with me. He didn’t wake up. Of course in all fairness, you could literally drive a train through our bedroom at night, he’d sleep right through it, and be none the wiser in the morning. So, I snubbed a little louder (maybe on purpose?! Oops!), but he still slept. I didn’t want to shake him and wake him up because I felt a little pathetic doing that, even though I know he would’ve woken up and talked with me.  I just cried by myself, and it felt ok and even right.

The more I’ve thought about it, I feel less silly (sort of) about it all. In the weeks following her arrival, I cried because I missed her kicks. Even when she was just all knees and elbows and it actually hurt when she’d move inside me, I missed carrying her life inside me, with me at all times. The first time I felt her move, I was 14 weeks pregnant.  Just as graceful in pregnancy as I am outside it, I’d tripped and fallen in our kitchen pretty hard. I was completely terrified and just immediately started crying. I called the midwives’ office and my doula. My doula got back to me first and after asking lots of questions, told me to go take a bath and relax and notify her and my midwife if I started cramping or bleeding at all. I got in the tub, turned on relaxing music, lit some candles, and just rested in the tub. I remember rubbing my stomach and praying over Abi Kate while I did. I felt her move in that moment and I felt peace because I knew in my heart that she was ok. I’ve always felt like that was one of God’s sweetest gifts to me. It’s kind of unusual in a first pregnancy to feel a baby move that early, even more unusual for me because I had an anterior placenta. Many women with anterior placentas rarely feel their baby move at all-- even at the end of pregnancy. Abi Kate did not fall into that statistic. She was just as busy a baby in utero as she is now, and I felt every kick, spin, and stretch. (Also can I just say that at my 18 week appointment, when I found out about the position of my placenta my midwife informed me if I ever fall I should fall on my hands and knees or it might cause an abruption if my belly hit anything. Um, thanks for that. SO glad I didn’t have that bit of knowledge 4 weeks earlier. I would’ve been out of control!) It was odd to me that I would miss it. Here she was in my arms, much better than in pregnancy, right? But I told Tommy that I would never experience that with her again, feeling her move in me. I felt the exact same way about labor. No matter how many children God gives us, I will never labor with her again. She and I will never work together in that amazing dance of birth like we did when she arrived. I guess all of these things are related… just a sadness over the passing of a season, of times spent together than can’t be recreated.  And I think that’s ok. To reflect on it, but not to dwell there. To embrace the new times ahead, but hang on to the times past, even if that brings some tears and sadness.

I spent the other night thinking about how tired I was when she had her sleep regression. The exhaustion and fatigue of being awakened every hour. I thought about how I had to make myself be joyful, to ask the Lord for grace in the moment. I wish I had savored that time just a little bit more, those moments when everything was quiet and dark in our house and she and I were the only ones awake. I wish I hadn’t worried about her sleep as much, stopped worrying about what our overly autonomous society says about babies sleeping, and just accepted those sweet hours with her with gratefulness. I did near the end, but it took me a few weeks to arrive there. I will remember for next time. I won’t forget. Because I know how quickly time passes, how quickly they grow up, and how independent they become all on their own.  

I’m excited for this next year with her. I know it will be filled with growth (for her and for me) and filled with many more memories. I’m sure that this time next year, I will be feeling the same way. Completely stunned that another year has passed and that she has grown.  I think I’ll be thrilled for all that we’ve been given, the time with her, much like I feel now. And if I need to feel a little sad and cry a little bit, I’m just going to let myself.  I’ve learned a lot in the last year, and one thing I know for sure--she is undoubtedly worth snubbing over.

Sinners in the Hands of a Merciful God

Sorry, Jonathan Edwards. I  know I stole your idea, but I like my title better.  ;) 

 I’m increasingly impressed by the things the Lord uses inside my new role as a mom to train me up and to bring me to a greater awareness of my need for Him. Abi Kate is definitely an explorer, like most babies her age. It seems like a second ago I could sit her on the floor with some toys and she’d play FOREVER just sitting there. Oh my, are those days gone or what?! Do they make baby sticky pads?! This mobile babyhood stage is exciting and filled with fun but also filled with exhaustion. I think she’s just making sure I stay young for a long time. I’m ok with that. :) If there is a pile of toys on the floor, be sure that my daughter will find the lone crumb in the carpet to snack on instead. Flashing toys, wooden blocks, and baby dolls just can’t compete with a pile of dog hair in a corner that the vacuum missed. Thankfully, her colon works just great so it all “comes out in the wash” so to speak. ;)

When she started really getting around at about 8 months, she was introduced to the wonderful world of “No, No.” I was fairly convinced for awhile that I’d given birth to one of those kids with defiant disorder. She totally laughed whenever I said “No”. So, I put on my serious “teacher face” and made sure to drop that playful tone out of my voice and this elicited nothing but a fit of giggles from her. I was starting to sweat it. Everything I’d learned about a baby’s learning timeline flew right out the window & my fear of having “that kid” became paramount. I believe at one point I told Tommy, “What were we thinking?! Spending all that time praying about her birth and breastfeeding and sleep. We should’ve been praying about her behavior!”  Thankfully, that moment of drama on my part ended. He’s a good stabilizer ;). It took her a few weeks, but she slowly started learning what the word “no” meant. Now that she’s 11 months old, she definitely knows what it means.  But what’s funny is that I watch her, even at such a young age, struggle with sin. Our laptop has to stay plugged in at all times or it dies (thanks, crappy battery). There’s nothing Abi Kate would rather chew on than a plugged in laptop cord. She has been redirected and told ‘no’ more times than I could possibly count regarding this cord. We’ve moved it, lifted it up, blocked it, etc. But she will pursue it until the ends of the earth. She has climbed pillows, gotten herself wedged in between an ottoman and side table to reach it. And every time she gets near it, she looks at it, says “No No” and looks back at me. I can literally watch her contemplating her choice. I remind her no with a shake of my head. And she shakes her head at the cord and repeats “No” again.  She’ll often look back one more time and barely reach out and put one lone finger on it, and look back at me to see what my response is. She did this with the Christmas tree, too. Doing whatever she had to do to get close enough to the tree to barely reach an ornament. Sometimes, she’d cruise her little self away from the tree after telling herself “no no.” But more often than not, she’d try to reach it, sometimes even drawing her hand back when she saw I was watching. And sometimes, she even hurried to try and snatch an ornament, crawling away as fast as she could when she saw me coming. Here’s an unpopular idea that most of our culture and even lots of believers don’t like:

My baby is a sinner. Even at her sweet, loveable & innocent age of 8 months, she was a sinner. And like all sinners, she needs a Savior.(And yes, I do believe in the age of accountability, but I’m not covering that in this post). She does what she does because, yes, she is curious and learning and this is how she grows. However, she also does what she does because she was born into sin, a fully fledged flesh nature ingrained in her from the moment of conception. I believe that children do see examples of poor behavior and mimic it, but I also believe that they choose to mimic it because they are “tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed.” (James 1: 14) They absolutely have the option not to mimic poor behavior, not to disobey, not to hit, not to respond disrespectfully, but they don’t. And it’s not simply because they’re innocent or learning and have been influenced by others.  It is because they were dragged away by their own desires. Like it or not, it’s biblical. Don’t think kids are sinners? Go hang out in a Kindergarten class for a few hours.

    I don’t think any believer likes to think of their child as a sinner. I certainly don’t. But I believe when we do acknowledge it, it changes our response to them. It allows us to speak biblical truth into their lives, even from a young age, to model and teach Christ-like choices and holy living. To blame other people or other things for our own child’s misgivings perpetuates a victim mentality and teaches children to blame other people and other things for their poor choices. That’s not something we plan to teach our daughter. It’s a hard scenario, and it will only become harder as she grows, I know. At her young age, she isn’t really influenced by others yet (whew, not ready for that stage yet!). It is her own nature that drives her. And trust me, it does drive her!  I certainly give credence to the idea that yes, children do see behaviors from others and they act upon them. I believe in environmental exposure and the way that affects a child’s upbringing, behavior, psyche, etc. But I don’t believe that knowing and agreeing with those secular ideas releases me from the realities of spiritual reasoning and from our role as Abi Kate’s spiritual leaders. We want to teach her to look at things from a biblical perspective, to evaluate choices, behaviors, and attitudes of herself & of others with the view of Jesus, not with the view of our culture. Will this look different at every age? Of course it will. Obviously, a 10 minute sit down conversation about sin nature isn’t going to happen with a 15 month old. Nor is a discussion about another child’s home environment going to happen with my 3 year old. I’m a fan of age appropriateness in all situations, including this one. But that doesn’t mean that my theological beliefs shouldn’t color the way that I respond to her when she is disobedient. It means that I acknowledge that biblical truth is applicable not only to adults but that it applies to my baby as well. It means that I drop the attitudes of “it’s not her fault” or “she wouldn’t do that on her own accord” or “she’s just kind and innocent and learning” and accept that yes, it was her choice whether she’s young and learning or is repeating what another child did. We can’t train her up to acknowledge her sin and need for a Savior if we’re busy putting off her choices on someone else or something else. Those two things stand in opposition to each other. It’s important that I submit to this idea, and not just with my words, if I want to see an eventual heart change in my child. Think little kids don’t pick up on your attitudes regarding their choices? Wrong. Go ask a teacher whose dealt with kids who have parents that make excuses for their preschooler. They’ll be happy to enlighten you. I don’t want my love and adoration for her & her innocence to gloss over her need for accountability. She will pick up on that. As she grows I’ll have to consider what I’m doing-- Maybe I’ll need to model better choices, maybe I’ll need to engage her in role play activities to help her understand, or maybe I’ll just simply need to hit my knees a little bit harder and ask that God would give her a soft heart and an awareness of wrong choices.  Our prayer now is that God would give us the wisdom to accept that her choices result from a sin issue, to know how to gently but effectively respond to that at each age, and to know how to lovingly steer her towards the cross. When we pray over her every night, Tommy always prays that God would give her a soft heart towards the things of the Lord even from the earliest age. I believe that God honors the prayers of the righteous, so I’m claiming that for my daughter, for her salvation.

Sometimes it is hard for me to accept the current condition of her soul. I am absolutely in love with this baby girl. I adore everything about her. She has my heart completely wrapped up in every little action, smile, and giggle. I don’t like to think about her having any traits that are less than lovely. But I know that she does. In fact, for awhile as a newborn, we really thought she was Tommy made over; and in a lot of ways she is. However, as her personality began to develop, it was clear that she is also my child, and unfortunately some of those less than lovely traits I was talking about stem right from me. I kid you not when I say she has thrown her little body on the floor, leaned over with face in the ground, and screamed and kicked her feet when I have removed her from something she shouldn’t be playing with. It was an impressive fit for a 10 month old, though I’m pretty sure I could’ve given her a run for her money at 10 months. What say you, Mom?! Abi Kate has never seen me do that (Whew! Thank the Lord, huh?!). It isn’t a learned behavior. It is her response to not receiving what she wants. A sin nature. Even though I don’t act on it in that manner, that’s the way I feel now as an adult when things aren’t going well. It’s the way I feel when the Lord disciplines me. And much like she just has to tread along the edge of things she knows she shouldn’t do, I often find myself in the same situation spiritually. For me, this usually manifests itself in thoughts and attitudes which then overflow into my conversation.  Even when I know that dwelling on a situation where I feel wronged or upset will only fuel the fire for me, I do it anyway because I feel entitled. Entitled to “getting it off my chest” and speaking my mind. That’s not to say I should never vent. There’s definitely a time for that. But in certain times or circumstances, I know when it’s best for me to claim my inadequacies in dealing with the situation in a Godly manner and ask for help. Too often, I don’t do that.  I just have to scrape the edge, which leads to a cascade and gives birth to full blown sin instead of just temptation.  Sin is such a slippery slope. I wonder how the Lord looks at me, as He watches me wrestle with choices the way I watch my daughter…  when I place myself in a situation  that easily leads to sin instead of running from it, running for my life, for my soul- be it physical, mental, or emotional.

We long for Abi Kate to desire the things of the Lord. There is so much fullness & hope in this life because of the cross. Tommy & I have experienced this hope and the mercy that was willingly offered at the hand of our Creator. This makes the wait for her salvation a little harder I think. As I mentioned before, I do believe Christ shows much grace & mercy to young children who haven’t reached an accountable age of realization. It is His nature. But sometimes I still get antsy at the thought of her responsibility. I can make a lot of decisions for her- but not this one, not salvation. It helps to know that He is the lover of her soul, that His love reaches levels of extravagance for her that I couldn’t even begin to dream up;  that He pursues her, even now when she’s too young to comprehend that. It is humbling to me to think from a new perspective-- that the cross wasn’t just for me and my sin, but for my child’s as well. That He extends forgiveness coupled with a reward in exchange for our destitution. I pray that we are able to offer her that reality and truth in the words we say and mostly in the lives we live. That she would “grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love Christ” for her (Ephesians 3:18),that her mind and heart would understand and fully comprehend, and that we would know the right ways to guide her-- this is my desire. There is sweet freedom in the blood of Jesus.

As we evolve in our parenthood and reach new stages, like discipline, that we haven’t encountered before, we realize more and more of our great need for Christ to be ever present in our lives, in every moment and every situation. I hope that we are moldable and attentive to the leadership of the Spirit, that we would help lead our daughter to the ”way everlasting.” 

Loving Like Jesus

                                                                                   
Parenthood is funny isn't it? Things that I never questioned in my care of other children have suddenly become great big question marks as we have learned to parent Abi Kate. I am forever the researching, studying dork, and on a "need- to- know" basis so I can make informed decisions. This is both a blessing and a curse. In pregnancy, I literally inhaled books (and as an aside, friends, please just put What to Expect When You're Expecting back on the shelf and walk the other way. Unless, of course, you want to know how to expect trauma and drama.) I read articles, visited websites, and watched documentaries prepping for pregnancy and birth. Likewise, this has been applied to my parenting. And can I just say, where is the middle of the road book?! My friends have heard me say it about a billion times, but I usually side with the idea of "moderation in everything." Ok, not literally everything, but you understand where I'm coming from, right? Prior to having Abi Kate, I felt like I had a pretty good grasp on the general idea of parenthood. My degree included a lot of child development, and I've never been able to shake what I learned from that. However, there were specifics that I felt like I should read up on before having her. But I could never completely agree with anything I read. It felt like every book was some sort of extreme-- set a schedule and never deter or throw a schedule out the window and shoot the breeze. I couldn't get on board with Cry-It-Out and I couldn't agree with never helping her learn to soothe herself. I remember one afternoon calling my mom and saying, "What did you do with us?! Just lay it out for me!" In all fairness, I was very pregnant and I would like to blame my hormones for this overly emotional response. ;)  I felt unsure about what decisions to make, and these decisions were so important to me. Praise the Lord that in all His goodness He gave me my husband who is the ultimate source of calm reasoning in our household. Tommy wasn't overly concerned about such decisions and said that Christ would guide us. So basically, we just began praying that God would give us His wisdom in parenting our child. It was around this time that the most profound idea hit me-- just put those other books off to the side and pick up your Bible. I know this is SO "unprofound" to 99% of believers and probably to most people who have raised children. But for me it was a decisive point in determining how we would parent. I, of course, knew how to make the Bible applicable to the main idea of parenting, to bring her up in the goodness and knowledge of Jesus. But it was the day to day routine decisions that were troubling me. The more Tommy & I talked, the more we read, and the more we prayed, those other books became less necessary. Because the reality is that we just needed to love our children the way that Christ loves us. And we chose to make that applicable even in small things (but the things that troubled me most) like sleep methods, scheduling vs. not scheduling, etc. Our Father is gentle with us, full of grace and mercy. He is attentive to our needs at all hours of the day, and He doesn't look towards His own interests but instead, gave Himself up for us in the most significant way. He is patient with us and grows us up into Him.

One thing that has always bothered me about our culture is that we expect 6 month olds to sleep like 6 year olds. We expect 4 month olds to manage their emotions the way 4 year olds do. And we expect 8 month olds to independently entertain themselves the way an 8 year old would. We no longer allow babies to be babies. We expect them to be independent, nearly self sufficient beings by age 1. We expect them to conform to our schedule, our needs, our sleep patterns, and our desires quickly. We are frustrated when they don't. To me, this stood in opposition to the tenderness found in the person of Christ. Praise God that He knew I wouldn't be a mature believer after one year of salvation. That He didn't deem me "difficult" or become frustrated with me. Instead, He gently drew me to Himself and has continued sanctifying me over the last 17 years, offering me endless grace (and trust me, I've needed it!). This picture of His love was monumental for me. By no means do I think that we shouldn't train our children to learn to be independent or withhold discipline or guide them. But Tommy & I have decided that we will guide them gently and patiently. This hasn't always been easy and I was seriously questioning this idea when Abi Kate, my once champion sleeper, suddenly stopped sleeping through the night at 5 1/2 months and persisted until she broke her first tooth. I am not a night friendly person. I become irrational, seriously grumpy. It's not pretty, friends. Not. Pretty. Please do not ask my husband about what I'm like at 2 am. We received the typical advice to ignore her, that she'd figure out we weren't coming for her. But we felt compelled to apply Phil. 2:4 and look towards her interests, and to do it joyfully. It was difficult for me because I was very tired and I felt sure I had done something to screw up my child and cause her to have a sleep regression. I worried that she would never sleep well again, that it would affect her development (I know...ridiculous). Many nights, most nights actually, I had to beat "self" into submission as I rolled out of bed and remember to be full of love, not full of frustration. (I'm definitely not getting Mom of the Year Award after this post, huh?!). Tommy on the other hand is full of compassion and gentleness at all times, even at 1 am and then again at 3 am, 4:30 am, etc. Guilt, anyone?! Of course, her tooth broke through, she went back to her regular sleep habits, and her momma became slightly less paranoid. ;)  But the lesson learned by making faith applicable to even the smallest things in parenting wasn't lost on us.

We learned one thing after being a parent for about a week-- there is not a "right" way to parent, so to speak. What works with Abi Kate probably won't work with another child. What works in our family won't work in another family. What we think is right for her may not be right for someone else's child. And that is ok! We all have a responsibility to look towards the interests of our children, and that might look different in different  families. We would be foolish and full of pride to assume that her disposition and capabilities are accredited to our exceptional parenting skills. Instead, I've found that loving her has given me a better picture of God's love for His children, and has afforded me the opportunity to continue to work out my salvation and walk in faith. I'm grateful that He reaches me when I'm unreachable, that He soothes me when I am inconsolable, and that He willingly gave of Himself when I was most unworthy. Oh, that I would faithfully walk in those truths....