The Greatest Gift You Can Give Your Children

While visiting our Oregon family about a year ago, my mother made a comment about having children that I will never forget.  It was something along the lines of, "The greatest gift you can give your children is each other."

Think about that. 

The relationship your children have with each other will in most cases outlast their relationship with even you, the parents.  Long after my husband and I am gone, our daughters will have each other.

Their relationship is about so much more than learning to survive each other during the years that they share the same roof.  How we raise our children to love each other - treat one another with kindness, respect, and consideration in spite of their differences- has the potential to instill a closeness with one another that spans decades and all of life's seasons.  And since the sibling relationship is one of the first and most uncomfortable relationships, I believe that training can greatly affect how they operate in all of their future relationships.  (I happen to think that people who have good relationships with their siblings often make the best roommates, friends, and spouses. Seriously.)

The greatest gift you can give your children is each other. 

Post edit:  I realized after a couple of comments from "onlies" that I need to clarify something because I made a strong parenthetical statement and then left it a little...vague.  I want to be perfectly clear that I do not believe only children are necessarily lacking in their relationships or social skills.  Likewise, neither do I believe that all children with an abundance of siblings grow up to make good roommates, friends and spouses.  All I am actually saying here is this:  parents have the unique opportunity to use those siblings relationships for early molding of selfish-by-nature children into caring, giving, conflict-resolving adults.  It is a rich training ground.  Note that it is the parental training in those sibling relationships that makes the major difference rather than the mere existence of sibling relationships.  That parental training can occur in other scenarios as well, without siblings.  Though I doubt the situations would be as intense or as frequent, I imagine them to still be quite effective.  In the same way, siblings can abound and the training opportunities can be sadly brushed aside.  And of course, all of this is purely my opinion.  End of post edit. ;-)

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When I was growing up, I had one older brother and two younger brothers.  I loved being raised with boys as my days were full of exciting adventures like climbing trees, catching garter snakes, starting up zoos with the insects we collected, pretending to be super heroes, and trying our hands at building things.  One summer we had great plans of building a roller coaster in our backyard, but we couldn't quite get the logistics right, so we dug the biggest ditch we could instead.  My hands blistered, my shoes filled with dirt, and my arms and legs had scars from all the mosquito bites.  But I was in heaven. 

Sometime during that era, I had some friends from church that were twins:  twin girls.  They were the best of friends, giggling with each other and sharing clothes and secrets.  Suddenly I found myself desperate for that kind of relationship, and I began to yearn for a sister - a twin sister to be exact.

So I did what any girl of my upbringing would do.  I began to pray.  Hard.  Daily.  Several times a day.  

And then I realized that at my age, gaining a twin sister was impossible.  So I started to pray for a sister in general.  Any sister would do, and we would be best friends.  I prayed everyday for what felt like years, and eventually my mom announced that she was pregnant.  I was confident that it was a girl.  How could it not be?

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January 4th.  It was my older brother's tenth birthday.  I was turning eight in two days, on the 6th.   I recall that my older brother received birthday gifts from people who normally would not have given him a birthday gift.  They were there to see the baby, and they must have felt a little bit sorry for the boy whose birthday was to be shared from that day forward.  He didn't seem to care, and announced that the baby was his birthday present.

Likewise, I didn't care that my birthday was just days away, and I didn't get any extra gifts.  I was certain I was about to meet my sister.   

True to their tradition, my parents followed the old-fashioned route of waiting until birth to learn the baby's gender.  And true to their tradition, the new baby's siblings were treated in VIP fashion, the first to meet and hold the sweet little bundle, even before the grandparents.

I can't remember if the color of the cap gave it away, if my parent's announced it, or if my mom opened up that baby's diaper for the great reveal - they have done it each way over the years - but I had to pat myself on the back for being so smart and praying so hard:  my sister was beautiful!

She was the best thing I had ever seen.  I have so many fond memories of her as a toddler.  She had the biggest, brightest blue eyes, chestnut brown hair, and sweetest chubby cheeks and belly.  And my little sister loved to sing.  We mostly sang songs from the Lion King and The Little Mermaid - those were her favorites.  Some nights she slept snuggled up in my bed and I sang her to sleep. 

Before long, another sister came along.  Then another.  In fact, today I joke that I prayed so long and so hard for a sister, that I got five sisters - four of whom came right in a row!  I was in preteen heaven, dressing those girls up (instead of my brothers), walking around with a baby on my hip, and doing a few girlie things with them.  But mostly in those days, I still played with the boys.  I felt a bit like a second mother to my little sisters, so it was different than I expected, but I loved it. 

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My sister Ariel is eight years younger than I.  She just got married this summer.  My sisters are Ariel, Abigail, Adelaide, Aurora, and Anastasia.  They are currently 20, 17, 15, 13, and 7.  The youngest one, whom we call Annie, is growing up with the boys (there are three boys in a row before her).  But the other four?  They have grown up together, sharing a room, sharing clothes, sharing secrets.  They are best friends.  I look at them today, and just marvel in silence.  They have what I used to long for, and it makes me smile at their good fortune.  Their bond is recognizable.  Do they realize how lucky they are?

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To this day, I enjoy doing boy things.  It has only been in adulthood that I have finally embraced the color pink (particularly in clothing) and baking.  I always assumed that when I married and had children I would have boys.  Maybe one girl, but a big ole brood of boys. 

Then our first daughter came along, and I fell in love.  Her love of frills and her sensitive feelings are endearing.  I have had my first tea parties.  And I tilt my head and furrow my brow in utter bewilderment and amusement when she screams like she's going to die...because she saw a spider in the house.  It's pretty safe to say she's all girl, and was born very much that way. 

Our second daughter arrived two years after our first, conceived immediately after an early miscarriage, and I fell in love again.  This time I fell in love with sandy-colored curls, infectious laughter, and a heavy dose of little girl cuddles and charm.   We had wanted a boy (again), but we found ourselves in a strange place of thankfulness - thankful that we don't always get what we want, because we suddenly found ourselves in need of our delightful second daughter.

And if you could see Princess and Smooch together, like I have the privilege of seeing every single day, you would sigh at the perfectness of the two of them together.  They are so sweet with one another, sharing a room, clothes (sort of), toys and laughter that leaves them both out of breath.  Of course they have their ugly moments, but we work through those and they mostly enjoy a strong sisterly bond...even at their very young ages. 

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The bleeding was worse than the first day of postpartum.  The cramping felt like early labor.  I clutched my barely-swollen belly in pain, fear gripping my heart.  I opted to wait until morning to call the midwife, because I already knew the answer.  The only thing I really feared was whether or not we could handle this.  Again.  This time, we had just begun to make announcements, and had exciting plans to make more announcements in a dramatic way at Christmas.  I'm not a particularly public person (especially in regards to emotions), but I was being forced into an unwanted spotlight on a stage that was thrust under my feet.  However, I knew if we kept it quiet, people would unknowingly ask prodding questions that would make me cry.  Publicly.  Christmas was three weeks away. 

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I begged God for a son.  Mostly, I wanted my husband to have the boy he's always wanted.  I figured, if I didn't leave Him alone, He'd give me a son if for no other reason than the fact that I wouldn't stop asking.  (Hey, don't laugh!  There are so many examples of this in scripture. :-))

"Hey Princess, do you think we're having a girl or a boy?"

"Well, we only have two girls, and that's not enough girls.  I think we're having another sister!"

"Oh you do!?  Well what about Daddy?  He's the ONLY boy.  Even Kitty is a girl."

"Welllll...I think we'll have a couple more girls and then a lot of boys can come out of your tummy after that."

Of course having a son was still a deep desire of our hearts.  However, after two miscarriages and an unnerving pregnancy complication this time around, we found that our attitudes were quite a bit different than before.  To say that we yearned for a son is not an understatement.  There is physical aching involved when a desire of your heart is unfulfilled.  However, we were just thankful that our baby - whoever he or she was - was thriving and healthy, and had not been affected by the complications.   We just wanted the chance to snuggle and know and love this baby. 

Many loved ones insisted that our baby was a boy and said "he" and "him" from the start.  Knowing our desire, they wanted so badly to see it come to fruition, being supportive with the best of intentions.  We were simply grateful for the chance to bring another life into the world, and it bothered me a little bit that no one seemed to fully understand this.  We had surrendered ourselves to whatever the Lord had decided for our family a long time ago.  People could say whatever they wanted to say - it was already determined, and we'd find out eventually.  We knew the gender of our baby wouldn't matter in the grand sceme of life, but we continued to hope for that boy.

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She easily slid the wand across my slippery belly, when she paused, froze the image and took in a quick breath.  "Okaaaay...are you ready to know what you're having?"

The tech had finally caught our baby in the perfect position, without any crossed legs obstructing our view. 

We were pretty sure that we already knew.  Because of complications, we had already had numerous ultrasounds, one of them between 14 and 15 weeks.  At that scan, I all but begged the tech to peek, and she gave me what sounded like an "I think, maybe"  sort of guess - not the best angle, still very early.  Not into announcing guesses, we decided to keep it to ourselves until our "big" ultrasound.  In the meantime, I studied our secret photo, and was pretty convinced that first guess was accurate.

"Ready!"

"It looks like this baby is a little...GIRL!" 

Just as we thought.  We had spent the last month getting excited about the idea, so while we were still hoping for a boy at that point, we were not surprised.  I turned to Bella and said, "Did you hear her?  Are we having a boy or a girl?"

Her demeanor was perfectly calm when she said, "Yeah I heard her.  A girl."  Then she grinned.  After all, she wasn't surprised either.  She knew the whole time that she was going to get a second sister.

I should ask her if she had been praying for a sister.

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We're having our third precious daughter! Do we still want a boy?  Of course we do.   We have always talked about having four kids, and so long as my aging body is up for it, we probably will have one more (just kidding about the "aging" part - that is a reference to "what they say about third babies doing a number on your body is true in my experience so far!").  I don't know if the Lord will give us a boy or not.  Maybe we will adopt a boy.  Maybe we'll have four girls.  Our hearts will continue to ache for a son, and we will continue to ask the Lord over and over and over for one.  But as we have experienced in a very real way, it's not really for us to decide.   And we're at complete peace with that.  I even shared with my husband the other day, that I have wondered if the Lord has not given us a boy because it is his plan for us to adopt one.  How many people talk about adopting, but never do it?  We talked about adoption long before we had our first child...but will we ever do it?  Christians in particular are so outspoken about being against abortion, but how many of them (us) step up, let their actions speak for themselves, and adopt an unwanted child?  Don't answer that.

I think it will always bother me that people don't seem to entirely believe us when we say that we are not disappointed that we are having another girl.  It will get under my skin when people are certain that we're "trying for a boy" when we have another baby.   When that day comes, I can assure you that we will be trying for a baby.

On a different note, I'm learning that it's okay to be the woman and mom that I am, raised with boys and all, even though I do not have any sons.  I will continue to catch lizards and grasshoppers, convincing my daughters that they are the coolest.  We'll take our girls camping, because that's one of the things that we really enjoy doing.  And just like this past weekend, our daughters will explore creeks, play in the dirt, and pee in the woods with the best of them.  Then we'll come home, clean up, and play princesses.  You see, we won't ever try to make our daughters into sons, or make them feel badly for not being boys (of course not!). Part of what comes with this journey of ours, is some personal growth.  For me, that partially involves learning that I still get to just be me even when - because of our very different life experiences - I will sometimes be unable to relate to my own daughters as they grow up in a house full of girls.  It will be yet another opportunity for me to do my best, seek wisdom, learn and grow. 

Through it all, my mom's voice echos in my head. "The greatest gift you can give your children is each other." 

Then I think of my sisters, and I glance down at my round belly imagining our daughters' futures, and I can't help but feel the slightest bit of...envy. 

Life Truth: The Colder the Winter, the Warmer the Spring

Photo from here.

I think it is beautiful how the Lord uses his creation to teach us truths about life. Take the changing of seasons from Winter to Spring for example...
Bambi II - "There is Life"

Under the snow,
Beneath the frozen streams
There is life...


You have to know
When nature dreams,
She dreams there is life...

And the colder the winter,
The warmer the spring
The deeper the sorrow,
The more our hearts sing
Even when you can't see it
Inside everything
There is life...

After the rain,
The sun will reappear
There is life...

After the pain,
The joy will still be here
There is life...

For it's out of the darkness
That we learn to see
And out of the silence
That songs come to be
And all that we dream of
Awaits patiently...
There is life...

______________________________

Dear Baby July,

They say that it's strange how you can miss someone that you have never even met, but I don't think it's strange at all. I miss you. Intensely. I think about you and your brother or sister October. Every. Single. Day. I imagine that you play so sweetly together in Heaven the way that your sisters play together on earth. Even though is has been several months since I said goodbye to you, sometimes I still lie awake at night and cry. And then I almost have to laugh because I know how blissful it is that you never have experience what it is like to feel that anguish. You have no concept of pain. But I have to admit, in my selfish human nature, I am not crying for you - for I know you are in better hands than mine - I cry for myself. Did I tell you I miss you?

Last month, we would have discovered whether you are a boy or a girl. Oh we were so anxious for that moment. Now it seems silly that your gender would have mattered to us at all. I just wanted YOU. I imagine that my belly would have been pretty swollen by now. I would have finally looked pregnant instead of frumpy. I think you would have been big enough for Daddy to feel your kicks, and I would have walked around rubbing my belly out of maternal habit by now. Did I tell you that I love you?

Well I do. Ever so much.

Love,

Mommy

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Sometimes, as a mother, I feel like a ball of raw emotion with large portions of my heart walking around outside of my body, and other parts of it hanging out in Heaven without me. I don't try to explain why things happen the way they do. I do hope in the Lord. I do wonder what He is teaching me through all of this. I do try to focus on loving the babies I do get to hold, savoring every moment of this sweet and terrible life.

Sometimes I feel afraid. Then the Lord tells me "Do not be afraid." Sometimes I feel angry. (I must admit there are moments when I want to have a literal tantrum.) Then the Lord softens my heart. Sometimes I think life is ugly and unfair. Then the Lord places on my heart those who have experienced greater loss than I, and those who have not been able to hold any of their children. We desire more children, and sometimes I feel faithless and impatient, ready to be pregnant riiiiiiight now. Then the Lord boosts my faith and gives me patience that I don't have in and of myself.

But one thing never changes: I always, always think of Baby October (due October 14, 2009, miscarried at 5 weeks on February 7, 2009) and Baby July (due on July 10, 2011, miscarried at 9 weeks on December 5, 2010). Mothers never forget their babies. All of them.

I look forward to the day when we lay eyes on each other for the first time, and we know one other at once.

Just In Case This Means Something to Anyone Else

Once upon a Febuary in 2009 I had an early miscarriage that rocked my world.  I blogged about it here.  Only I didn't happen to mention any specifics at the time.  Since that portion of the post is somewhat buried in my monologue about our firstborn daughter, I have copied and pasted it below.  Every word of it is as true today as it was then.  Jesus you are so beautiful, how you strengthen our spirits and soften our hearts in difficult times, if only we let you.

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In whom, in what, do you put your trust? Through tumultuous events, both from my own life and the lives of others around me, God is teaching me a seemingly basic truth. Fundamental, but challenging. God has personally blessed us. That is obvious to me. But in his blessing, I don't want my focus to shift from Him to his blessing. I want to live with an "open palm" mentality. Not open palm meaning, ready to receive, but open palm meaning that I don't cling to things or people in such a way that I place my trust in them. That my focus shifts away from Jesus. I want to give everything I have to God each day because they're not mine to begin with. I want to live like everything is on loan from him.

Don't we try to treat things better that aren't ours anyway? Being sort of clumsy and awkward with...things...I have broken something that belonged to someone else on more than one occasion. That feeling is more terrible than if I had broken ten of my own somethings. I want to live like my house isn't mine. I want to live like my husband doesn't belong to me. The same goes for my daughter. My husband's job. Everything. They belong to the Lord. He has let me have them for a time and a time only. I want to live like I really believe that.

This does not come out of fear of loss; I have experienced loss before and I know that if I had to do it again, I could...because I have Hope. So I am not afraid. Rather this is entirely about my attitude. I want to be humble. Few things are uglier to me than arrogance. I want to be thankful in all things. I think the Bible repeats "be thankful", and "with thankfulness" so much because we are so prone to become spoiled little children, demanding things from God. And adopting at attitude of thankfulness can transform a person. I will go as far as to say that I believe it is the only way to experience true happiness.

Be thankful. Be humble. Live like your trust is really in Jesus and not yourself (your abilities), not a job, not your things, not your husband, not your kids. That is what I yearn for. This is what God has been teaching me lately.

There is a difference between finding joy in things, relationships and such and getting your worth from them. Letting those things define you. For instance, I find it extremely satisfying to make things with my hands. (I think it's in my genetics.) That's why I think it is fun to sew. However, I have to be on guard to not let my value come from being crafty or get my identitfy from being a "homemaker." God tells me who I am. Not the way I interact with my daughter on any given day. Or the fact that I even have a child. Not the fact that I have many years of college behind me. Not whether I packed my husband's lunch or let him do it himself. Not whether I have a career or stay home with my kid. Not anything that I feel. Not what anyone else tells me. If I chased those things in order to find value, I would be placing my trust in them. Wouldn't I be train wreck when things didn't go as planned?! Nevertheless, it is a constant learning process.

Here is an excerpt from my journal last month (I know, I blog and I keep a journal. Good for me.) Forgive me if this is somewhat redundant:

February 24, 2009

Some Psalms that stick out to me tonight:

Psalm 144:3-4 - "O Lord, what is man that you regard him, or the son of man that you think of him? Man is like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow."

Psalm 146:3-5 - "Put not your trust in princes, in a son of man in whom there is no salvation. When his breath departs, he returns to the earth; on that very day his plans perish. Blessed is he whose help is in the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord his God."

I find it comforting to know that in all times - in joy or in sorrow - God is deeply moved on my behalf and He even knows the very number of hairs on my head and goings on of the insignificant sparrow. However, I really enjoy scriptures that put life into perspective. That remind me to be humble and thankful in all things. To remember that in the grand scheme of life and eternity, my problems are not so overbearing

I feel as though in the wake of [things], God is whispering in his still, small voice, "In whom do you put your trust? From what do you gain your value?" My answer should not be my daughter and my future children. I should not put my trust in my husband [I should trust him, yes, but not put my trust, my hope in him]. Or his job. My value should not be determined by my accomplishments as daughter, wife or mother.

These are concepts that I have nearly always known and understood, but to take them to heart and live with an "open palm" mentality is different. My husband does not belong to me. My daughter is not mine. They are the Lord's. If I have learned anything [this is where I omitted specifics about the miscarriage in the original blog post] it is that I must continue to give my family over to God each day. It's hard to comprehend that He loves them more than I do (or ever will) but that's the reality of it, so they're better off in His full care anyway. But, man, will I thank Him everyday for lending them to me for awhile!

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P.S.  Don't worry.  Light-hearted family update posts will ensue.

In A Constant State of Growth

I've caught up on laundry since this post and I must say it is a good feeling. I have, however, discovered that while writing out my plans for simplifying and organization may have felt satisfying, that was (nearly) all it accomplished. For getting out my frustration and making a plan relieved me of my previous fire that should have moved me to action. So far, all I have done is catch up on laundry (from being out of town, etc.), move Bella's outgrown baby clothes haphazardly from bags to bins (without sorting or throwing anything out), and bag up some kitchen towels to donate. And learn to crochet and take kids to parks and that sort of thing. Lots of good things, but nothing related to cleaning and purging though. Bah! So the only writing you will see about this subject will be to announce progress as a sort of accountability rather than planning ideas.

___________________

Our daughter is just about 100 percent weaned. She is almost exactly 18 months old. I had her down to one feeding a day (of milk obviously) and then she caught a nasty cold shortly after returning from our Disneyland trip so I reverted to letting her feed whenever she wanted. It was actually really sad how I tried to continue with the plan to wean and she cried like her heart was broken when I didn't give her any milk (past her once a day) on day one of her sickness. Anyway, as soon as she was better, I quickly moved her back to once a day again and she was fine with that transition. It's been almost a week now and I've given in on two occasions. (Ha ha. I realize this makes me sounds like a recovering addict or something!) So she's only been breastfed twice in a week. I have to say it has been both easier and harder than I imagined. On one hand, even though it's not true, I feel like I'm with holding love when I refuse her. But after saying "no, we're not going to have any milk", we hug and rock and sing and snuggle and she seems satisfied with that. And a snack of raisins or applesauce afterward.

She has developed some funny behavioral patterns since beginning to wean. I'm not sure if they're related to weaning or not. First of all, she's become a little more needy and vies for my attention a little more than before. This could be developmental but I'm sure it's more emotional, related to weaning. I watch two other kids about her age, and breastfeeding has always been the only part of Mommy that she got to have all to herself. (In fact, that is largely why I breastfed her past a year and felt she wasn't ready to stop.) So I have been trying to show her some extra special attention throughout the day. For instance, I might get her up from nap time first and let her have some alone time playing with Mommy before her friends join us a few minutes later. It definitely seems to take at least three cuddle sessions (from 5 to 20 minutes each) to emotionally fill her up the way one breastfeeding session did, so it can be challenging though beautiful.

Another thing main thing she has been doing is "getting hurt" a lot more lately, which of course requires the injury site to be peppered with special Mommy kisses. Every time she remembers it's existence. "Ouuu-ie, Mommy. Knee!" You should know that she has had an injured knee for a week now....

The last thing (that quickly comes to mind) is she has been talking/whining loudly while we're in the car and Daddy and Mommy are talking to each other. This one has me a little stumped because as much as I want to her to feel secure during this emotional transition, she needs to know that Daddy comes before Bella. That's a hard concept for her to grasp at her age, but it will make her feel more secure in the long run to know how much Mommy and Daddy love each other. Any suggestions on this one? So far I have just been telling her that she needs to use a more quiet voice while Mommy talks to Daddy. Then I make sure she does get some attention in the car, but I give her the attention when I "catch" her behaving so that I'm not rewarding her outbursts.

The other idea is the recently-born saying that "18 months is the new 'terrible two'." While I think my child has the potential to act out in ways characteristic of a slightly older child because of her advanced speaking skills (she is often speaking in three and sometimes even four word sentences now), I do not buy into this idea. In fact, I do not even buy into the "terrible twos" for a couple of reasons. First I think buying into the "terrible twos" can be an excuse to become lazy when parenting becomes more challenging, requiring a new level of creativity that engages the parents' minds (and energy!) in more ways than to which they are accustomed. Easy for me to say when I'm not there, right!? ;-) Secondly, I have watched the second year come and go in the lives of several siblings and I think that "terrible twos" can be largely dependent upon a child's temperament. And, in my experience, those kids who experience "terrible twos" often have terrible threes, fours, fives... They are just more challenging by nature, even in the wake of good discipline. Some kids are the opposite. And lots are in between. Bella's response to consistent forms of discipline in past months have been very encouraging in this regard, though she shows potential to be one of those strong-willed types. I'm just saying that no matter what message the world screams at me, I refuse to resign myself to certain "facts."

____________________

In whom, in what, do you put your trust? Through tumultuous events, both from my own life and the lives of others around me, God is teaching me a seemingly basic truth. Fundamental, but challenging. God has personally blessed us. That is obvious to me. But in his blessing, I don't want my focus to shift from Him to his blessing. I want to live with an "open palm" mentality. Not open palm meaning, ready to receive, but open palm meaning that I don't cling to things or people in such a way that I place my trust in them. That my focus shifts away from Jesus. I want to give everything I have to God each day because they're not mine to begin with. I want to live like everything is on loan from him.

Don't we try to treat things better that aren't ours anyway? Being sort of clumsy and awkward with...things...I have broken something that belonged to someone else on more than one occasion. That feeling is more terrible than if I had broken ten of my own somethings. I want to live like my house isn't mine. I want to live like my husband doesn't belong to me. The same goes for my daughter. My husband's job. Everything. They belong to the Lord. He has let me have them for a time and a time only. I want to live like I really believe that.

This does not come out of fear of loss; I have experienced loss before and I know that if I had to do it again, I could...because I have Hope. So I am not afraid. Rather this is entirely about my attitude. I want to be humble. Few things are uglier to me than arrogance. I want to be thankful in all things. I think the Bible repeats "be thankful", and "with thankfulness" so much because we are so prone to become spoiled little children, demanding things from God. And adopting at attitude of thankfulness can transform a person. I will go as far as to say that I believe it is the only way to experience true happiness.

Be thankful. Be humble. Live like your trust is really in Jesus and not yourself (your abilities), not a job, not your things, not your husband, not your kids. That is what I yearn for. This is what God has been teaching me lately.

There is a difference between finding joy in things, relationships and such and getting your worth from them. Letting those things define you. For instance, I find it extremely satisfying to make things with my hands. (I think it's in my genetics.) That's why I think it is fun to sew. However, I have to be on guard to not let my value come from being crafty or get my identitfy from being a "homemaker." God tells me who I am. Not the way I interact with my daughter on any given day. Or the fact that I even have a child. Not the fact that I have many years of college behind me. Not whether I packed my husband's lunch or let him do it himself. Not whether I have a career or stay home with my kid. Not anything that I feel. Not what anyone else tells me. If I chased those things in order to find value, I would be placing my trust in them. Wouldn't I be train wreck when things didn't go as planned?! Nevertheless, it is a constant learning process.

Here is an excerpt from my journal last month (I know, I blog and I keep a journal. Good for me.) Forgive me if this is somewhat redundant:

February 24, 2009

Some Psalms that stick out to me tonight:

Psalm 144:3-4 - "O Lord, what is man that you regard him, or the son of man that you think of him? Man is like a breath; his days are like a passing shadow."

Psalm 146:3-5 - "Put not your trust in princes, in a son of man in whom there is no salvation. When his breath departs, he returns to the earth; on that very day his plans perish. Blessed is he whose help is in the God of Jacob, whose hope is in the Lord his God."

I find it comforting to know that in all times - in joy or in sorrow - God is deeply moved on my behalf and He even knows the very number of hairs on my head and goings on of the insignificant sparrow. However, I really enjoy scriptures that put life into perspective. That remind me to be humble and thankful in all things. To remember that in the grand scheme of life and eternity, my problems are not so overbearing

I feel as though in the wake of [things], God is whispering in his still, small voice, "In whom do you put your trust? From what do you gain your value?" My answer should not be my daughter and my future children. I should not put my trust in my husband [I should trust him, yes, but not put my trust, my hope in him]. Or his job. My value should not be determined by my accomplishments as daughter, wife or mother.

These are concepts that I have nearly always known and understood, but to take them to heart and live with an "open palm" mentality is different. My husband does not belong to me. My daughter is not mine. They are the Lord's. If I have learned anything [....] it is that I must continue to give my family over to God each day. It's hard to comprehend that He loves them more than I do (or ever will) but that's the reality of it, so they're better off in His full care anyway. But, man, will I thank Him everyday for lending them to me for awhile!

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I'll leave you with a couple pics of my sweet sun baby. I mean, toddler.