Wordless Wednesday

Forever In Our Hearts

Broken

It was bound to happen.  And when this inevitable happened, it was our own response that caught my husband and me by surprise.  There was no screaming, no lecturing, only a little laughter followed by a quick text to the hairdresser before we walked out the door.  The temptation for Bella to introduce the children’s scissors (which had been entrusted to her and her older sister to open a package) to the back of her own head was finally too much when Boo left the room for a few minutes.

At first Bella was completely unaware of the damage that she had purposely inflicted on herself.  She bounded upstairs for dinner confident that nobody would notice the jagged tresses poking out from the back of her head. When the lopsided layers started to bounce with her wiggling jiggling demeanor, she became shy.  And then when we asked where she hid the hair, there was no reply.  Finally we simply sent her to retrieve it.

It wasn’t until we explained that a trip to the hairdresser would be necessary that the tears came, lots of tears.  The tears didn’t last long though as they were quickly replaced by a hot defiance.  Soon we were hearing shouts of “I AM NOT GOING TO THE HAIRDRESSER, YOU ARE NOT CUTTING OFF MY PRETTY HAIR,” and “I DON’T WANT TO LOSE MY PONYTAILS.”

By this point we were running late for Bible Study, so we quickly shuffled everyone out the door.  Content to hide under the hood of her jacket, the rest of the evening was fairly uneventful until we returned home and it was time for bed.  Apparently reality set in again as Bella was supposed to be putting on her pajamas.  I literally had to slide in-between a slamming door to get into the room to comfort my baby girl. 

Don't be fooled by this smile.  She was still a very unhappy camper when

she emerged from her room the next morning wearing this hat to hide her locks.

 

This little lady’s given name means industrious and rival and I’ll be the first to admit that I have the hardest time saying no to her of all my girls.  It doesn’t help that her personality seems incapable of comprehending that the word “no” can apply to her.  So as I sat there holding her, debating in my own head whether a haircut was really necessary, one thought kept coming to my mind.  I kept saying over and over, “I love you too much to let you stay like this.”

Heather the Hair Boss working miracles

The more I said it, the more my heart realized our Heavenly Father loves us much the same way.  The lessons in that short phrase, “I love you too much to let you stay like this,” are innumerable.  It’s really the crux of the whole gospel.  God loved us so much that He sent His own son to die a horrible humiliating death on a cross so that we no longer have to stay like we were.  Yes God loves us simply for who we are, but the loving Father that He is also desires the best for His children.  And sometimes that best comes through hard things, things that we don’t understand, and things that we fear.

Let’s face it.  There are just some things in life we can’t fix on our own, things that are way more important than cut hair but just as impossible to piece back together.  Sometimes God can’t mold us into who He wants us to be until we are broken.  Sometimes He can’t work the most until we are at our least.  And then like I held my crying little girl and carried her to bed at her request, He picks us up and makes something beautiful out of the pieces of our own failures, mistakes, and shortcomings.  We don’t magically have long hair again.  Instead He gives us something different, something beautiful, something precious, and ultimately something that we have learned to value.

I love how this new haircut shows off her beautiful eyes.

 

Psalm 51:17(NKJV)

¹⁷ The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit,
A broken and a contrite heart—
These, O God, You will not despise.

Psalm 103

¹Bless the Lord, O my soul;
And all that is within me, bless His holy name!
² Bless the Lord, O my soul,
And forget not all His benefits:
³ Who forgives all your iniquities,
Who heals all your diseases,
⁴ Who redeems your life from destruction,
Who crowns you with lovingkindness and tender mercies,
⁵ Who satisfies your mouth with good things,
So that your youth is renewed like the eagle’s.
 

⁸ The Lord is merciful and gracious,
Slow to anger, and abounding in mercy.

¹⁰ He has not dealt with us according to our sins,
Nor punished us according to our iniquities.

¹¹ For as the heavens are high above the earth,
So great is His mercy toward those who fear Him;
¹² As far as the east is from the west,
So far has He removed our transgressions from us.
¹³ As a father pities his children,
So the Lord pities those who fear Him.
¹⁴ For He knows our frame;
He remembers that we are dust

The Little Blue Box

There’s this box.  It is royal blue, its base neatly nested into the lid.  It is small and unassuming, measuring only 4 x 6 inches.  Its contents safely enclosed in a bubble wrap sleeve nesting on a pile of tissue tucked into the bottom.  The cargo so preciously swaddled that disturbing it almost seems disrespectful.  For the last three years, it has rested securely.  It’s been protected.  It’s remained untouched.

 

When my thoughts drift to the box, they are conflicted.  The contents themselves seem to command a respect for what once was.  And yet I'm fully aware that no amount of packaging materials can secure what remains.  What I've lost cannot be protected by tissue and bubble wrap.  The gift is not in the box. The true gift was because of the box.
 
This little blue box has changed my life has irrevocably.  I am not the same person I once was.  It was impossible to receive the gift and stay the same.  And this gift was, still is, so very precious that I’ve built walls and barriers to protect it leading many people to rightfully misunderstand my tears.  My anguish comes not from what was lost, but rather from not being able to fully appreciate what I had.
 
This little blue box has a tale to tell, a purpose in my life.  As I’m able I’m hoping to unwrap the contents, both literally and figuratively, over the weeks ahead.  The gift that was bestowed to me is too beautiful to keep packaged up in tissue and bubble wrap any longer.

Isaiah 61:1-3 NIV

¹The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, …
²  … to comfort all who mourn,
³ and provide for those who grieve in Zion—
to bestow on them a crown of beauty
instead of ashes,
the oil of joy
instead of mourning,
and a garment of praise
instead of a spirit of despair.
They will be called oaks of righteousness,
a planting of the Lord
for the display of his splendor.

Shhhhh!

So I have a theory, the cute ones are always trouble.  The problem is almost all toddlers are cute.  That said I was slightly taken aback in the early hours of yesterday morning.  Bitty has not been sleeping well lately.  It seems as though she is sleeping less and less and it is a struggle every single time we put her to bed.  The situation is complicated by the fact that she can get out of bed and open the bedroom doors.  So more than once, I've woken up to a little face at eye level calling, "Mama."

Back to yesterday morning.  Bitty had wandered in during the early hours of the morning and cuddled up beside me.  As I woke in the morning I rolled over and quietly asked dear hubby a question.  And that's when it happened.  I was SHUSHED by the itty bitty toddler.  This is the same girl who just the previous evening crawled into my bed and sang every song she knew to keep from falling asleep.  I was pretty appalled, but apparently it took all of hubby's willpower to keep from laughing.  Good thing she's cute.

On My Mind

A lot has been on my mind this past week.  Writing helps me process my thoughts, but time has been scarce.  When I decided to “dust off” this blog, I wanted to make sure that it wasn’t at the detriment of my other responsibilities.  So here I am at the end of the week with a long laundry list of random thoughts.  

1)  Over the last few weeks I’ve been reading and listening to Sacred Marriage by Gary Thomas.  On Thursday as I jogged on my treadmill I listened as Gary Thomas talked about how we’re made to be creative.

 

In chapter 12 of the book, Mr. Thomas takes the position that “as people created in the image of God, we have a responsibility to create.”

 

Further in this section he asserts, “If we don’t nurture a godly sense of creativity, we will experience an emptiness that we may perversely and wrongly blame on our marriage.  The emptiness comes not from our marriage, however, but from the fact that we’re not engaged in our marriage.  We’re not using this powerful relationship in order to create something.”
 

He goes on to ask, “Have you ever noticed how our culture lives off other people’s acts of creation?”

And the last thought that caught my attention was, “If you don’t create in a thoughtful and worshipful manner – whether preparing meals, decorating a home, achieving a vocational dream, responsibly raising children— you will feel less than human because you are in fact acting in a subhuman mode.”

 

2)  A light and encouraging read, I’ve found myself looking forward to the few minutes each day that I spend in Billy Graham’s devotional, Hope for Each Day.

 

In the February 4^th segment, Graham mentions that his friend once observed, “Love talked about is easily ignored, but love demonstrated is irresistible.”  Wow.  Lots to ponder in such a short sentence.

 

3)  Considering my inward battle these last few months, my interest was piqued when Boo and I were reading about Jacob and Esau earlier in the week.  The author of this particular children’s book spent some time addressing Jacob’s own wrestling match with God.  One point that caught my attention was when he noted how the angel’s touch that crippled Jacob’s hip was unexpected because it was below the belt.  He then went on to explain though how Jacob was ultimately different after this and how God used him to create the nation of Israel.

4)  This past Wednesday night we started a new study at our small group called “Always True” by James MacDonald.

One particular illustration that intrigued me was about how we need to cling to God’s promises between “Today I Believe” and “Tomorrow I Receive.”  Although it wasn’t quite like he explained it, I found myself envisioning God’s promises as a lifeline that connected those two points.  I’ve often felt like I was flailing and blind these last several months.  But I quickly realized that if I was clinging to that lifeline I wouldn’t be tossed back and forth even though I still couldn’t see any further ahead.  Considering this more, I remembered back to when I was at my lowest.  My general line of thought during that time was that I just didn’t have any more to give.  Then I realized that I’ve been trying to do an awful lot in my own strength.

He also talked about the value of preciousness.  He noted that it takes time for something to become precious because it takes proving.

 

5)  I was confronted with two separate sets of two questions last Sunday that I still can’t shake.

 

As I confided in a friend this past Sunday about the war between my head and my heart, she passed on two questions that someone asked her years ago.

“Is God good?” and “Can I trust Him?"

Slightly later I was challenged by two other questions.  There’s a young boy in our church that is currently going through traction for his back.  Even when he’s not confined to a wheelchair as he was that morning, his physical ailments keep him from running and skipping like most other kids.  So I became completely enamored with this little guy as he cheerfully greeted my oldest daughter with a smile on his face, “Are you running?  Are you jumping?”  From that point on I found myself eavesdropping on his conversation with a friend because pure joy exuded from this little guy.

 

 

6)  And on a less serious note, I chuckled in bed one day this week as Bitty wandered through the hall in the early morning hours calling “Boo.  Boo Boo.  Boo Boo.  Boo.”  She was blissfully unaware that she was waking a sleeping dragon.  To get the full experience, you should note that Bitty has a deep voice and for some reason pronounces Boo with a southern twang.  Boo was one of her first words and she loves both of her big sisters.  She wants to do everything they do leading my hubby to appropriately dub her, “Me Too.”

 

7)  My Second Born informed me the other morning, "Mama, When I grow up I’m not going to give my kids homework.  And you can move back by Granny where it’s warm and I can live in this house.  But you can leave my pictures of when I was little here."  She also said something about not sharing her favorite Barbie with her kids when she grows up.  At least she's thinking about growing up.  For awhile I thought I had a Peter Pan on my hands as she didn't want any more birthdays after she turned 5. 

 

8)  And Saturday night as I noted to my oldest that she was growing up way too fast, she responded, “I’m just turning nine this year.  It’s not like I’m turning twenty.”  But then the following evening I took a few minutes to lay on her bed and read to her and Bitty.  After it was over, Boo went on to explain what she thought she'd like her wedding to be like and that she wanted a wedding dress like Ariel.  The only difference is that she wanted hers to have pink and white instead of green and white.  Wow.  I need to slow down more often and just listen. 

 

9) And lastly I haven't forgotten about those February gratitude posts.  February just seems to be moving at break-neck speed.  If I don't do them now, I'll find a way to work them in along the way.  They aren't far from my heart.

 

 

In fact, this was what I was looking at when I suddenly realized it was the afternoon of February 1st.  I'm so very grateful that God brought this little warrior princess into our lives.

 

The Door in the Wall

One of the things that I love about homeschooling my girls is being introduced to incredible books that I would not have been naturally drawn to myself.  Their curriculum does an outstanding job of selecting excellent pieces of literature.

We just finished reading “The Door in the Wall” by Marguerite de Angeli and by the end my oldest daughter was making fun of me because I had tears in my eyes.  The story takes place in medieval England and chronicles how a young lad is taught to find “the door in the wall” after illness causes him to lose the use of his legs.  That door is the pathway through or out of any situation that can be found when we learn to use the skills and talents that we do have rather than focus on what we don’t or have lost.

 

Since my last post, some have expressed concern.  They can recognize and relate to my brokenness.  And I think it’s important to convey that my day-to-day is more often good than not.  So I will do my best over time to display the bigger picture, but I’m sure it will look more like putting a jigsaw puzzle together than painting a portrait.  And so often it’s confusing because the different areas of my life are connected like a spider web, polar ends tied to each other by a thin thread.

The last few weeks my heart has been torn by circumstance.  We truly are blessed to live in one of the most beautiful, friendliest, and safest places to raise our girls.  The only drawback is that it happens to be a 30+ hour car ride away from all of our extended family.  I’m finding that I cherish my visits home even more and leaving is becoming harder than ever.  People simply aren’t as young as they used to be and while no one is guaranteed any length of time, I no longer find comfort in just waiting a few more years to see if a closer job is available.  I know in my heart that the only place I need to be is exactly where God wants us as a family.  And while I truly believe that, it is so much harder when my location is directly tied to my husband’s job.  Enter a bad week or two and suddenly I’m feeling trapped.  It’s not pretty as I’m more claustrophobic than your average Joe.  And then there’s the fact that we’re quickly outgrowing our starter home and like I said folks, it’s spider webs.  Everything’s connected.

When things head south, the first place I usually turn is within.  I start to evaluate and often find I’m my own worst enemy.  If I’m cuddling the baby, I start to think I really need to spend more time with my big girls.  If I’m studying photography, I remember the dirty bathroom.  The list goes on and on and oftentimes leaves me immobile.  So I was intrigued as the young boy in this story was encouraged to cultivate his talents.

Here are some of my favorite quotes from this story:

Upon being delivered to the knight he was supposed to serve as a page, “Sir Peter kept Robin’s hand in his and spoke directly to him.  “Each of us has his place in the world,” he said.  “If we cannot serve in one way, there is always another.  If we do what we are able, a door always opens to something else.””

An answer from the friar that nursed him from being completely lame to being able to walk with crutches, “A fine and beautiful life lies before thee, because thou hast a lively mind and a good wit…Fret not, my son.  None of us is perfect.  It is better to have crooked legs than a crooked spirit.  We can only do the best we can with what we have.  That, after all, is the measure of success:  what we do with what we have.”

“Anyone could not do it.”

“But Robin was learning patience.  He had found out that the harder it was to do something, the more comfortable he felt after he had done it.”

 

I honestly don’t know where our path will lead.  It just might be right here.  And while I’ve admitted to struggling in my walk with the Lord these last several months, I recognize that I can’t deny His protection and His provision even during this time.  His mercies and faithfulness continue to amaze me and I’m excited to see what doors He opens.

Trust in the Lord, and do good;
Dwell in the land, and feed on His faithfulness.

Psalm 37:3