Just call me the hired cow

Raegan was following me. Babbling, she came crawling into the laundry room behind me. "Say MaMa." I said, smiling. Completely loving the fact that THIS baby said mama before dada. :)

Looking directly at me, she said "DaDa DaDa"

Aww. How cute you are. "Say MAMA. MAMA. You can do it. Ma-Ma."

"DADADADDADADADADA."

I'll spare you the repeated version. But I'll say this little exchange went on at least five more times. And each time, as if she knew exactly what she was doing, she'd say a very clear "Dada." Seemingly, taunting any request for my name.

Finally, my 5 year old, who's in the other room doing schoolwork, said in an exasperated tone of voice, "Uh, she doesn't know YOUR name." In the tone of "Please woman, would you just stop harrassing that poor child. She knows her daddy. And you, clearly, are not him."

No amount of debate with her would convince her that Raegan does know me and my name. Charis wasn't budging on her view of my identity to Raegan being irrelevant and unknown. Jet of course gloated...his brainwashing of all of our girls apparently complete. *tease*

So yep. It's official. Regardless of the fact that Raegan said my name first and that she spends about 90% of her time with me, she seems to have acquired selective amnesia concerning the identity of that random women who nurses her day and night. For she now only chants for her daddy.

That is, until she gets thirsty. *wry grin*

Our first test....

I admit I was annoyed, at the very least. My dear hubby had said something that hurt and offended me right before church started. So feeling quite justified, I promptly sported the 'tude. You know, the ATTITUDE. The one that silently screams "You are wrong!" in every language possible. Followed by the ever-popular silent look of, "It doesn't matter that you apologized. I'm quite content to be angry, thank you very much."

Yes. I can be THAT mature. *groan*

So anyway...we're driving down the road after church. I'm still annoyed that he's not completely seeing it my way. Because, really, what other way is there? (insert rolling of the eyes here). And we pass by a busy parking lot.

Passing the woman.

She stood there holding a sign. "Family in need. Food. Gas. Money. Prayers." Beside her sat two small boys about my girls' ages. Immediately, any anger fell to the side. The reality of HER situation grabbed me by the shoulders, jerking some sense into me, screaming "Stop being petty! There are REAL problems in the world."

I look at Jet as we pull up to the red stoplight. He's already opening his wallet.

We sat there for a second, watching this woman humble herself, basically begging for anything people would give. She is most likely my age. She is a mom. She is in need. She is banking on someone having compassion as dozens of cars pass her by. My heart went out to her, rolling my window down.

As she walks over, I realize there's no time to really say all that I want to say. Do I just hand her money? Do I pray with her right here? Should we pull over and talk to her? My mind is going crazy. I want to speak hope to her. I want to display compassion. But after a few minutes of talking with her, the light turns green. So I quickly hand her money and promise to pray.

But as we drove away, it just didn't seem like enough, you know? We gave her money, yes. But we were driving back to our comfortable home; they were still on the street. So honestly, our offer of money felt kind of trite. I thought about how I would feel in her situation. The shame. The inability to provide for my children. The complete dependence on strangers to take pity on me.

And like I've been saying, God's been prepping our hearts to do more. To offer ourselves. To really LOVE. So a few miles down the road, we turned around. Fully prepared to offer them our home.

"Are you scared?" I asked Jet right before we pulled back into the parking lot where she was standing. "A little."

I wait in the car with the girls while Jet goes to talk to them (the husband is now with them as well). ...Long story short. Jet left his cell phone number. They didn't need to stay at our house. But they deeply appreciated our offer of friendship.

And *bam* just like that, God gave us the opportunity to ACT on the things he's been doing in our hearts. Maybe next time, "they" will need our home? I don't know. But I do know that God will give us the grace to act out what is in His heart.

And yes, I'm still nervous about what it all will entail. Yes, I'm a far cry from perfect, sporting a childish attitude from time to time. But God's grace covers me. And His compassion pours out in limitless supply over my life. So that I, in turn, can become more and more bold in displaying His love and compassion for others.

To the least of these. Part 2

My heart is softening.

Honestly, I always thought that I had a soft heart. I cry over injustices. Deep sobs well up in my chest when I hear stories of people who've experienced the power of God whether through the miraculous or an outstretched hand of a stranger. My heart goes out to the poor, the widowed, the lonely. Truly. It does. On a deep level, I do feel these things.

But I'm not sure that I've ever been moved to action, you know?

I mean, yes, I've done missions trips. ministered to the homeless. prayed with the lame. BUT this time is different. In my heart it feels different. For I can't explain it any other way except to say I'm being moved to act...

Something is stirring inside me. Calling me to step out. It may not sound different, but in my heart I know that it is. For in those above examples, I was prepared to do something. I had planned to do something. My goal in life, at that season in my life, was TO DO something.

This season has been different.

In my blissful complacentancy, I've been all too happy in the routine of raising my girls. worshipping the Lord. praying from the safety of my rather large house for those in need on the streets. Ahh, the comfort of it all.

Maybe in my heart...in the way back part that I feel but don't care to vocalize... I figured I was "due" for a break? You know, since I was in the ministry mode for YEARS. Missions trip after missions trip. Feedng the hungry. Clothing the poor. I led a ministry. I sacrificed countless hours and money. I did my time, thank you very much.

Don't get me wrong. I'm not saying this to glorify myself (eh. if anything I think it shows what a dope I can be). But to say, I'm actually not someone that just sits at home and does nothing. I kind of think I'm one of those "radical people" that some of you may try to avoid. *wry grin*

BUT the real question is am I a radical representation of the LOVE of Jesus on a daily basis? How about to those who hang out on the streets? The ones whose physical stance screams out, "I carry a gun and I'm not afraid to use it. So don't talk to me and I won't mess with you." Or how about to the ones that come weighed down with enough emotional baggage (and a desire to speak of said baggage) to tie up my evenings for the next 5 years? You know, the ones whose lives don't fit into my nicely organized life. What about THOSE people?

Sadly and to my shame I'd have to say No. I am not loving them. But THOSE are the people that are continually being laid on my heart. The unloveable. The discarded. The misunderstood.

And what gets me is...the Lord isn't asking me to sacrifice for them: money, clothes, food. He's asking me to give of myself. To offer my friendship and enter into a true relationship with them.

So yeah, that's where I am. There's a stirring in my heart and in our home that can't be denied. Our minds are being filled with the thoughts of God on how to go about this. Ideas are in the works and our heart are being changed, challenged, and humbled. To the extend that I don't think I can sit by and do nothing anymore. For I am being MOVED by the heart of God.

But honestly, the whole realm of emotions are warring within me. My heart is broken, inspired. and most assuredly, terrified.

Yet all I can do is lay the feelings at the foot of the One who led by example and became the friend to the people others hated. avoided. rejected. Lord? I'm needing you in this. Pretty desparately.

To the least of these...

This picture breaks my heart. Breaks it.

There's so much more I could say. So much that spills from my heart as tears spill from my eyes. But for now, all I will say is this...

I want to be that hand.

I want to be the Hand of Christ that loves on the ones that the world has deemed unworthy. inconvenient. discarded.

Mirror Mirror....

Everyone is always telling me how you can tell a (insert our last name) Baby Girl. Apparently our combined DNA makes the same look over and over again. Or so they say...

Here's Raegan and Charis...





















There are truly pictures that I wouldn't know which was which between these two if it weren't for the decor of the room. For instance...if the picture was taken in our first house, it's obviously Charis. If it weren't for that...both Jet and I would be stumped on some pics.


Here's Selah and Raegan...



















Same with these two. There are some pictures, if angled just right, confuse the heck out of me.

But when it comes down to it...I think that Raegan is actually a complete combination of the two older sisters. The missing link in their sisterly looks. For she has some of Selah's features and some of Charis's. I actually have pictures of them where the similiarity is more obvious. But I'm soo not into pulling out all those pictures, scanning them, and such just for a blog. I'm lazy that way. :)

And the combined look of the two oldest sisters makes for a little girl so ADORABLE I can hardly stand it!!

She's 7 months old and determined as ever. Climbing stairs, saying Mama and Dada, walking around while hanging onto furniture...and her newest talent: she whistles.

Just like our musically talented Selah who whistled this early as well... I look forward to one day hearing all three of my girls singing together. Having, what I would imagine to be, a very tight harmony.

You can always tell when you have a THIRD child. The look is no longer compared to the parents, but instead to the siblings, eh? :) But as much as I enjoy their similiarities...I love their differences. I have a feeling our lives will never be boring with these three running around.

Scrambled Eggs?

One of my YWAM friends, Jen, put a "challenge" of sorts on her website, asking people to essentially "tell her something" educational. So I, sporting a rather strong competitive bone, sat and sat and sat. Trying to figure out some random piece of "vital" information that I could share.

And then finally *ba-da-bing* I remembered the raw egg and it's unbreakable make up. So this morning the girls and I did a Science Project.
We talked about how when a hen sits on her egg (to hatch it), it doesn't break. Ever thought about that? Selah asked if she could sit on it and try that theory out. *laughing* That girl. ;)

I said nooooo...we're going to try and crush it with our hands. Which was followed by exchanged sisterly glances and odd looks from my Logical Thinker, Charis. WHYYYYY, Mommy?!! I think she must've thought I had lost my mind, telling them to TRY and break the egg into the rug.

Our rather large Doberman (who's inside for the morning b/c it's raining and I feel sorry for him) was rather curious. :)

So try this experiment...if you haven't already.

First, clasp your hands in front of you-be sure to interlock your fingers. Pull your palms apart so your hands form a cup. Place an egg lengthwise in this cup. In other words, the egg should be longest from one palm to the other. Now push your palms together as hard as you can - trying to break the egg. You won't be able to do it!

You can also try it by cupping it in one hand and trying to squeeze it with the same hand.

It is the double curve of the egg that distributes pressure evenly throughout the shell. Most of the pressure is transferred to the other side of the egg and into the person's other palm. Stress does not concentrate on one spot, therefore, the shell does not break.

I told them to try and break it over our dog's head. Since he plopped right down in the middle of our experiment, offering himself up as "fair game".
They tried and tried and tried....

Take note of the ratty towel on top of the kitchen rug. I figured I had better take into account that these little ones have MY DNA. Meaning, when someone first challenged ME, a college sophomore at the time, to break an egg while holding it in one hand...I tried and tried. Finally, unable to do it. I used the other hand, smashing it instantly. It was my loop hole...being that he had never said I was limited to one hand. And voile'...broken egg all over his mother's kitchen floor. heh heh

It's a good thing I did put that towel down because I ended up dropping it accidentally, when trying to gather up the eggs to put them away. *Opps* Our dog was all too happy to clean up...I was eventually able to get him off! After taking the picture of course. :)

After doing some research, I found out that the "monolithic dome" is like the egg. (and I would guess that it was built with the egg in mind). Things like igloos and sports domes. The dome, when finished, is earthquake, tornado and hurricane resistant (FEMA rates them as "near-absolute protection" from F5 tornadoes and Category 5 Hurricanes).

Of course, my girls could have cared less about the "whys" of it all. They were just excited that they got to try and break an egg. Though the last thing that Selah said was "Can I sit on it NOW?"

In Response to a comment....

I debated about whether or not to post this under the comment section of my last post. But I decided that you, dear "Holy Chaos" may not ever look back to see it. And it's in response to a comment that you made. :)

You said "I wish I could see into that realm... to see what's really going on." Regarding the realm of the spiritual unseen. So my thougths on that, since you put it out there and all...

Ask him.

Yeah. You read that right. I'd say if you want to see into that realm. Simply ask him.

Last year (or was it the year before that?) I was really searching out God about his take on my desire to enter into the Spiritual Realm. And He pointed me to the scripture in Matthew, where it talks of Peter walking on water.

One of the things that the Lord showed me when studying that scripture was that Jesus wasn't offended at Peter's request. He didn't scoff at Peter or roll his eyes. Or declare that He, and He alone, was to attempt such things and that Peter was being ridiculous. He simply said Alright. Come on. And my guess is that he said it with a twinkle in his eye, a grin on his face, and his hand outstretched.

So ask Him. He won't be offended. And you'll never know unless you do.

Under the old covenant, Elisha could see into the spiritual realm. Because of that he had peace when earthly circumstances deemed he be panicked. Take a look at 2 Kings 6:8-17 ...

There may be other examples? But this is just a quick response to your comment. Just thoughts from me to you...(and whoever else is reading) :)

It's just a thought. I know some of you may disagree. But read it for yourselves. Was Jesus offended? No. Does he tell us to ask of him. Yes. Does he say that he wants to do more than we can think or imagine? Yes. So if you're imagining it, then it's too small. He's thinking Bigger Yet for your life. (Ephesians 3:18-20 speaks of this!! He WANTS us to have the power to comprehend...).

Anyway...just a thought, "Holy Chaos"...just a thought.

New Heading...

To explain why my blog site seems to be ever-evolving...

I like change. I can't deny that. Same-ol' Same-ol' gets boring to me. That's why I am still moving furniture around 2 years after moving into our home. It's why I pour over hairstyling magazines, searching for my latest look. I like change. So thus, the reason why my blog keeps getting a face lift.

But to be honest, I never really liked the title "Meandering Thru."

When I first decided to start up a blog, I tried out at least 60 different title options. ALL of which were taken. So when I f-i-n-a-l-l-y came up with a title idea that wasn't taken, I latched onto it. Simply because I wanted to start blogging and stop messing with the title.

I felt justified in having that title because there are times where I tend to wander through life. Not really grabbing ahold of it, but just trying to get through it. There are days where all I can do I is count down the hours 'til my hubby comes home. Admittedly on those days, I don't care how the girls and I spend those hours of his absence, I just want them to pass. Quickly.

Who doesn't have those days?! But I don't want them to be the BANNER over my life, you know? I don't want to be known as the woman who is constantly meandering through life. Hello. Don't mind me. I'm just wandering here.

NO! I want to be someone who sets the captives free...who is a friend to the lonely...who serves my husband by taking care of the house and all that goes on in it...who blesses my children by teaching them with extravagant creativity. And who, when the Lord looks on the earth, will catch the eye of the Father as someone who will intercede.

I want to cause a stir in the heavenlies with powerful prayer. wholehearted worship of the Lord. dedicated discipleship of my daughters and all those who the Lord brings to my door. and a heart full of unconditional, unwavering love. A weapon that cannot be comprehended or defeated by the Enemy.

I want my life to matter. On this earth, yes. But also in a world unseen. Where the real battles are fought.

So there you have it ...the reason why my site now looks different. Because hopefully, my heart, before the Lord, bears the same change.

Say What?!!

My blog gets googled on a daily basis. If someone googles me, I can see it. I've gotten used to it, figuring it comes with the territory of Blogdom. But today...I had to wonder.

Should I be scared that my blog was number TWO in the following google search?

"Is sucking your thumb as addictive as heroine?"

Yep, there I was. Ranked #2. Tucked right between the Webpages entitled: "Constantly High" and "Warning Signs of Abuse".

Does Google know something I don't?! ;)

Latenight Trip...

The ER. It's never been a place that I think of with fond memories....

Driving home around 7pm last night, we went through a major downpour, and I knew it was going to hit our house right around the time that we got there. Sure enough, as soon as we parked the car and opened the back door to get the girls out of their car seats, the skies OPENED UP.

Charis and Selah ran for the porch.

The next thing I heard were piercing screams from Charis. I walked around the car to see Jet was grabbing her up, cradling her. It was dark enough that I couldn't see what was going on. Her and Jet's yelling was so intense that I was sincerely looking around for an animal that had bitten her. Her screams were that terrified. Jet's eyes were that panicked.

Charis had, at a FULL run, tripped and hit the corner of the jagged cement steps with her face. Her nose was literally spurting blood. She was covered in red. Jet yelled to be heard over her screams, "We have to go back out. To the ER."

All I could do was stand there. I didn't know what to do.

Jet had run into the house because Charis was choking on blood. I was left on the porch in a daze. Do I follow him? Do I get the girls in the car?

I grabbed up Raegan, who was still in her infant car seat, and quickly put her back into the seat. I grabbed Selah and told her to get in. Drenching, I went inside. Leaving my two other girls out in the car, feeling like I had no other choice. I had to help Jet.

Inside, Jet was struggling with Charis, trying to calm her...and his own nerves. I've never seen him like this. He was shaking. panicked.

By this time, blood is coming out of her nose in large bubbles. She was refusing to let us put ice on it. She had reached a whole new level of panic. Unable to talk. Only babbling one word syllables. BaBaBaBaBaBa. MaMaMaMa.

I started to worry about brain damage.

Running upstairs, I grab the Ibuprofen and all the girls' special blankets, knowing that we could be in the ER waiting room for HOURS before even being seen. It was already the girls' bedtime. Who knew when we'd be getting home.

Jet drove. The rain was still coming down in dark sheets. I sat in the back, cradling Charis's head and face. Trying to hold ice to her nose. Attempting to keep her calm by making up stories about caterpillars and butterflies. Selah cried softly. Raegan sat in silence, taking it all in. She would later break down and sob from the trauma of it all.

At this point, Charis's nose/face was so swollen that she didn't look like my little girl anymore. Her whole face would contort as she cried. Her eyes were starting to roll back into her head. She was fighting sleep and still babbling nonsensical words. All I could do was look into the unrecognizable face of my little girl, and pray. Thankful for my prayer language. One where the Holy Spirit groans with words too deep for me. (Romans 8:26). One where I don't have to have the words to pray. Just the heart to.

And suddenly in the midst of all of this, Charis stopped and prayed, "Jesus. Please heal me." Her first sentence, at least to me, since it all happened. The sweetness of this little girl is overwhelming at times.

By the time we got there, the bleeding had slowed tremendously. Only small drips needed to be wiped away every few minutes. In comparison to the drenched towels only 10-15 minutes earlier.

My parents were waiting for us at the ER. Ironically enough, my sister was on the 3rd floor in labor. So they were already at the hospital. Charis took GREAT comfort knowing that Grandma and Granddaddy were going to be there to meet her. And I was thankful for anything that would distract her.

By the time we got back to a room, her swelling had started to GO DOWN. Less than an hour past the time she fell and it was already going back to normal!! WHEN it should have been still swelling!!!

By the end of the night, every one was convinced that God had performed a miracle. Even the people in the ER Waiting Room said as much. Being that they had watched us rush in, sat with my parents while we were in the room, and watched Charis *skip* back out, laughing because she had an arm full of stickers. The end result didn't line up with where we started from!

Jet, who watched Charis take the fall said that it's truly a miracle that nothing else happened. Her nose, without divine intervention, should have been broken. To have fallen into a corner of cement with your face, at a full run... it doesn't make logical sense to only come away with minimal swelling, instead of the need for facial reconstruction.

My mom, who has been a nurse for longer than I've been alive, said that for her nose to have been SPURTING blood an artery was obviously hit. It's a miracle that it stopped bleeding on its own. And so quickly.

And this morning, not even 12 hours past the incident, her face isn't black and blue as you would expect. There are absolutely NO scuff marks. And with only minimal swelling, the only real discoloration is the dried up blood in the nose.

After all that she went through last night, there's no way to look at this except to say that God performed a miracle. And answered the sincere prayer of a 5 year old. My Dad, who isn't one to throw around talk of the miraculous, said after hearing that her nose wasn't broken, "Maybe it was...and God just healed it on the drive in."

I don't know the underground workings of the Lord on this one. But I do know, upfront, that a miracle occurred last night. There is NO way around that. She is healthy. She slept through the night without any recurrence of blood. She's talking in complete sentences and riding her bike and touching her nose...

Our God is GOOD. No. That word just doesn't cut it. Our God is immeasurably more than I can ever say. AND He, in all his graciousness, protected my baby.

...the next time I think of the ER, I will think of the miraculous intervention of a big God.

The Bits and Pieces of Me...

A LONG time ago, one of my friends "tagged" me to blog 10 random things about me. Sorry, Jen. It's taken me forever... but I never forgot.

But instead of doing it the traditional way by writing out a list of 10... Here's a Random Ranting about me. You know, since I share most of the "deep thoughts" that go on inside my head...here are some of the not-so-deep things about me. :)

I am a people person, but like to spend time by myself. Theoretically, I love the outdoors. But the thought of a bear lurking near by is enough to give me pause when considering camping. Unless a Winnebago is involved! *grin* I love water skiing, until I fall. And that's due to the hungry creature that may be watching my dangling legs. Are you seeing a theme of dislike for animals with large teeth and a taste for blood?!! When I go to the ocean, I do usually spend more time in the pool. Yes. It's a disease. Large-teethed-animal-phobia. Very serious illness. ;)

I am passionate to the core. I feel things deeply. I've never been much of a shallow person; I'd much rather be an "open book" than to settle for small talk. I'm extremely practical. I prefer a "bouquet" of Lowe's gift cards to a dozen roses any day. My theory? Flowers die, but a steel door lasts forever.

I love getting rid of clutter. Thus, the reason I'm getting ready to have my 9th yard sale since I've been married. And I'm NOT a big spender, so I have no clue how this stuff piles up?! And Trash Day is one of my favorites! (my husband will attest to this!) I like yard sales and consigment stores. And am to the point where I can't justify buying anything full price when I can find the deals that I do in thrift stores!!

I like the smell of coffee, but refuse to drink the horrid stuff. Unless HEAVILY masked with milk and sugar and cream and...chocolate. Compared to my husband who likes his strong and black...somewhat resembling motor oil in my opinion. I love laughing! and tend to have a sarcastic, teasing sense of humor. It's my hearts desire that I am filled to the brim with the joy of the Lord until overflowing.

I love teaching large groups of people about how to apply the Word to their lives TODAY. I want to see Jesus...this side of heaven. I want to have my eyes opened to the invisible realm around us, so I can see what the Lord is doing and pray into it. This has happened to me a few times thus far. I want to see the blind healed and the dead raised. (I DO have a friend that has seen the dead raised and I have personally experienced and seen others experience physical, miraculous healings.) May this become more and more commonplace!

I love singing and was involved in an Acapella Trio group in college. I miss that. Music absolutely stirs my soul. Especially worship. I prefer the type of worship services where people enteract with the Lord in *Freedom* If you need to cry or laugh or shout or dance or sit still...whatever. I just love being a part of REAL worship.

I'd love to meet a lot of you guys! ...maybe we can get together and "do coffee". Though if you remember, I don't drink the stuff. ;)

I'll do some more of these in the coming weeks...

And the Angels Rejoiced...

Tonight was Charis's yearly "Soaking prayer team" appointment. Every year, I sign her up to receive a 1/2 hour of prayer where a team of people gifted in the prophetic pray over her. I'm hoping that years from now, she'll love pulling out the tapes (the prayer is recorded) and listening to all the things God laid on people's heart to pray into, over, and about her. I know I will!

But anyway...

On the way home, out of the blue, she announced "I want to ask Jesus into my heart." :) She's been talking about it the past few months. Toying with the idea outloud. She's mentioned it recently, but has never really wanted to follow through. So when she mentioned it again tonight, I was all over it!

"Oh yeah? Well, I can pull the car over and we can pray together!"

I could write out the story, but for now all I'll say is that she prayed the sweetest prayer...and I know the angels are rejoicing along with Jesus. It's truly been such the precious night, as I feel SO honored to have been a part of it.

Falling off the Parental Pedestal

Mommy!! Mommy!!

Charis stood in the middle of her floor, clutching her beloved "Biscuit" dog. Rest time was officially over and I could tell that she wanted to tell me something very important.

Now I have to say, I'm really busy here. I mean, I'm in the middle of holding Raegan and gathering up Selah's nap time items. You know, life-altering mommy things that can't possibly be put off. But I, in my ever-giving spirit, smile and say, "What, honey?" Though I'm sure my eye contact lasted...oh, I'd guess...about 0.2 seconds.

She looked at me, eyes wide, eyebrows raised high. Quite obviously busting to tell me something!


"Biscuit asked me if he could have special time with me. Because I'm his mommy, you know. And I said NO! Then he spit in my face. And I told him to 'Go back to bed!'"

My mouth drops to the floor. Time stands still as the weight of the message BEHIND that statement hits my heart like a lightning bolt. Thankfully, I didn't drop Raegan as I stood there watching Charis gloating...obviously expecting me to applaud her "just and fair dealings" with the over demanding dog-child.

*big sigh*

The implied meaning behind her imaginary play has stayed with me ever since (as it was over a week ago). The hidden message that she was feeling put off and desperately wanting some one-on-one attention...and the inner anger at my denying her of it (hence the dog spitting in her face. WHERE she got that from, I'm still wondering??!).

The week before that loaded statement, she drew a picture of just the two of us playing. She made sure to point out that she and I were outside by ourselves, while Selah and Raegan remained inside.

So yeah, needless to say, Saturday we went on a much needed date.

We ran around town, going to all of her favorites places. We were having fun. We held hands. We laughed. We did whatever she wanted to. All without having to take into consideration her two younger sisters' desires/needs. Everything was going perfectly. She was declaring her undying love for me every 15 minutes. Seriously.

Ahh, yes that's right. Go ahead, sing my praises. I won't stop you. What's that, you say? I'm the best mommy e-ver?! How sweet of you. I'll receive that compliment, as I know I've earned it. ...I was, again, scaling the heights to my rightful place: The Mommy Pedestal. Once more, the stars in my small universe were realigning. Life was good. Please, allow me to pause while I pat myself on the back.

THEN...

As we're driving down the road on our way to Chick-fil-A, the topic of homeschooling came up. I made some random statement about how fun it was. And she got this look on her face. (I could see her clearly in my rear-view mirror). You know, the kind where your lip sort of curls up in disgust. And she said, almost in a pitying type tone, "Uh, I don't think homeschooling is fun."

If she were a few years older, I'm sure she would've rolled her eyes and said "Duh!" It was that type of tone she was using.

And just like that, I was jerked off my little pedestal. Flat on my rear. ;)


Honestly, the statement knocked the wind out of me. I was devastated. Here I am, in the middle of spending a Saturday focusing solely on her and out of her mouth comes yet another blow to my parenting skills, albeit it this one NOT disguised in imaginary play.

Did the face painting 20 minutes earlier count for nothing?! Isn't the glow of this sacred time supposed to last at least another 24 hours?! Do I really stink that much at the whole homeschooling thing as to cause her, in the midst of my Focus-on-dear-Charis Day, to take such a rigid stance? Has she already crossed over into the realm of child-who-knows-better-than-parent?! Somehow I didn't expect this for another couple of years.

I didn't know what to say at that point. Maybe I laughed. Maybe I sat in stunned silence. I truly don't know. My head was spinning and I was trying to focus on keeping our large SUV from swerving off the road.

Now, we happened to be on our way to have lunch with Grandma. Three generations of love coming together to love on Charis. She was thrilled...and for her, the fleeting homeschooling comment was never discussed again. But I, on the other hand, felt like I was walking around in a blurry haze. Mom said a bunch of comforting things, reminding me how much she is benefiting from my teaching her. But seriously the whole thing gave my confidence a pretty solid shaking. Even my mom's encouragement sort of fell flat.

Questions and doubts assailed me. Is this the best choice for her? Am I making the wrong decision? How can I do it better? What if what I do is never good enough? On and on it went. (In all reality, she couldn't have gone to school this year anyway. By law, she's 5 hours past the state cut off having to turn 5 by September 30th. So this year is a freebie in those terms. But still....)

The whole thing has prompted a discussion of sorts between me and my beloved. And when I say conversation, I mean he's talking and I'm sort of sitting there. ...staring off in the distance. mumbling incoherently to no one in particular about what a horrid parent I've become.

Okay, so not really. But it's not too far from the truth. :)

Being a parent, we have been entrusted to love and train these little ones. Because we know that we're people with limited perspective, we seek out God's...and go from there. We've done this. We know that homeschooling is what we're supposed to be doing right now. But man, if hearing that comment from Charis...as flippant as it was...didn't feel like a kick in the gut.

But I am learning that as a parent, I have to make decisions that are based on what we know to be the best for them. And, as I'm finding, that may not always be the thing that honors me with the "most popular award."

Did I come into parenting thinking that I would strive to be the most popular? that my self-esteem would be built-up by these little one's constant adoration of me and my methods? No. I had no such illusions. Truly! But hearing that they aren't happy with a decision that ultimately effects every aspect of their lives...that is a hard one to swallow.

Now, she did clarify that the reason she isn't happy with homeschooling (as she knows it) is because she wants to "do more work" than we are presently doing. I was relieved to hear that. Though my brain was screaming out, "She doesn't mean it! She just wants to please you in saying this and really does hate it." ;)

Either way, the point is...I know that I need to be confident in who God has called me to be as a parent AND the direction we feel led to take. Does that mean I think I'm never wrong? Um no. I'll be the first to admit that I am wrong fairly often (ie. daily!). But it does mean that I can't be swayed or pressured to make a decision based on the erratic state of my daughter's estrogen-laden emotions. I cannot allow their whims to become my barometer.

I can not parent solely to please.

Sounds so easy. Yet, it IS hard to continue on a path that you know may not be lined with the enthusiast cheers of the ones you're leading. I love them with a fury...and want them to be happy!

Does Charis like homeschooling? Um. I'd say yes...most days. Will we continue to do it? Yes, for now. Because that is what we know we are supposed to do. Will I try and make it more fun for her? By all means!! But I think this whole thing was a good wake-up call for me.

For I do need to trust God's leading in our parenting of these little beauties...regardless of whether they can appreciate it in the moment or not. I am the parent. They are the children. I will lead them. They will follow. (and by golly...they had better like it! *tease*)

Seriously, some days I feel like I'm a blind woman groping in the dark when it comes to raising them. But then I turn to other parents and find that I'm not alone; there are many of us feeling this out there. Maybe God designed it this way? So we won't get too comfortable sitting atop our self-made "I'm such an amazing parent" thrones? And will, instead, seek out the One who rightfully sits on THE Parental Throne. The One that blessed me with these children. The One that created and knows every detail of their needs and desires. And has, in His graciousness, equipped me to be their mom.

Regardless of whether MY erratic emotions warrant that to be true. What he has called me to, he will equip me for.

Oh Happy Day....

Why is this little one soooo obviously thrilled with herself?
Why are the sisters crowding and hugging her in congratulations?
Because she is now pulling up on things!

I think I have a determined little girl on my hands. She has recently learned to crawl (fast), sit up without assistance, and pull up on things all within a span of 2 weeks. I think she sees what her older sisters are doing...and is determined to join them in the action soon.

Calling It Forth-Part 2

Prayer...an unseen Force in the heavenlies...

When a friend of ours spoke of how Jesus performed the miracle "before his time", my brain, admittedly, went crazy. I had never heard that before. Never considered it. Never came close to considering it. I wasn't sure it made sense to me. Honestly, I'm still not sure.

He was saying it as the backdrop for something that he was wanting to prayerfully do regarding the promises of God on his life. He felt compelled to pray them into being. Instead of just waiting around, hoping that the "day of fulfillment" would finally come. He wanted to call them forth. In the now.

I know that one of my last posts was about waiting out the season of "hiddenness." I likened it to the time needed for God to bring a baby in utero into perfect completion. Patience is a virtue. A fruit of the Spirit. To persevere. To hope for. To wait for. Especially since a thousand years is like a day to him...and one day like a thousand years (2 Peter 3:8). Um yeah. So Obviously, God's timing isn't ours.

But while I was writing that post, I had this friend's comments about calling it forth running around in the back of my mind. Wondering how the two seemingly opposite ideas could co-exist in perfect harmony: The Waiting vs. The Boldly Calling it Forth. Because both are spiritual truths set in motion by the Lord, as we see in example throughout the Scriptures.

In fact, God's word is full of what could be conceived as contrasting truths:

--We should not judge. (Matt 7:1, 1 Cor. 4:5) vs. We should judge (1 Cor.5:12, 1 Cor. 6:2)

--We cannot be worthy (Rom. 3:23, 6:23, Eph. 2:1-9, Isaiah 6:5, 64:6, Gal.3:3, Luke 3:16) vs. We are to be worthy (Eph. 4:1, Col. 1:10, Matt.10:37-39, Acts 5:41, Rev.3:4)

--We should be like children (Matt.18:2-5, 19:13-15, Mark 10:13-16, 1 Cor. 14:20) VS.We should NOT be like children (1 Sam. 4:9, 1 Cor. 16:13, 1 Cor. 13:11)

--The power of sin has been broken (Rom. 6:11, 14) VS. The power of sin hasn't been broken (1 John 1:8, 10)

On and on the list goes. I won't write them all out, but the point is that all throughout the Word, if you isolate a verse, it can appear to be in complete contradiction to another isolated verse. Yet, I know that our God is a God of Truth. He is not a God of double mindedness. Thus, all of the above ideas can and do embody the full scope of Truth set forth by a God who sees the entirety of eternity. Just how, I'm still trying to figure out. But I concede to the unwavering reality that our God is a God who cannot be contained in the framework of our minds.

So when our friend said what he did concerning calling forth the presently dormant prophetic words spoken over his life, I just sat there. contemplating. wondering. Can I do that? Is that alright with God?

Because I always thought I needed to be the good little girl...and just silently wait. I figure if God has given me a promise of what's to come, then it was oh-so-good of him to inform me. And now, I'll just be on the look-out for when it arrives, thank you very much. not pushing. not prodding. just being the perfect picture of patience. ahhh...how quaint.

Oh Lord, renew my mind! Awaken my prayer life. Strengthen my patience. Empower my tenacity. Destroy any sign of timidity, indifference, or laziness, especially when clothed as being "holy and righteous waiting". I want to boldly speak up...like Mary, Abraham, and King Hezekiah. that I may watch you move as your heart yearns to.

The Word says to pray without ceasing. So that, I will do. Enable me, Lord to go after what you have promised me. To have my hands raised upwards, ready to be filled. But yet...still positioned to wait expectantly and worship wholeheartedly, even when they remain empty.

Daddy's Little Girl

"I cannot think of any need in childhood as strong as the need for a father's protection." Sigmond Freud

No words are necessary. This picture says it all.

And daughters-o-mine, I hope you will one day realize the incredible depth of blessing you have in your daddy.

Calling it forth!!! Part 1

When Jesus rose Lazarus from the dead, there was so much power in his command to "Come forth" that he had to specifically call out Lazarus. Had he just made the generic command to "Come Forth" every grave in the whole of the earth would have spewed forth its occupants. His word was that powerful. It carried that much weight and authority.....

The Word clearly says there is the power of life and death in OUR tongue (Prov 18:21). That he has set before us life and death and we needed to chose which we will serve (Duet. 30).

The Great Commission says, "And Jesus came and spake unto them, saying, All power is given unto me in heaven and in earth. ....And behold, I send the promise of my Father upon you. But stay in the city, until you are clothed with power from on high." (the words "power" and "authority" are interchangeable depending on translations).

So God placed the power of life or death in our tongue. And then clothed us in the same authority that Jesus had. I may be a "small thinker" but I don't think it requires a scholar to put this complete thought together:

The very word spoken from our mouths oozes with authority. And by our daily decisions, we are speaking either life or death into situations.

Consider the example of intercession between Abraham and God concerning Sodom (Gen.18). Abraham spoke up and his words changed the very mind of God.

And again, in Isaiah, when God said that King Hezekiah was going to die. Hezekiah spoke up and asked for mercy. And God extended his lifespan by 15 years (chpt.38)!

And then again when Mary the mother of Jesus brought the matter of the wedding wine being all gone....

A friend of ours brought up this last example of the wedding miracle a week ago. I never thought to consider what he pointed out: Jesus first miracle at the wedding, where he turns the water into wine, was actually performed before his God-ordained ministry was set to begin.

For when his mother approached him about the lack of wine, Jesus said, "Why do you involve me? My time has not yet come." But then he, for the sake of his mom's request, performed a miracle. Turning the water into wine. Before his time.

Mary's simple, but bold request...as were Abraham's and King Hezekiah's...apparently caused a heavenly shaking to occur. And God moved in a way that went against his original spoken intent. Wow.

Lord? Empower my tongue.

No...that's wrong. For you said that you already have. So would you empower my heart to be courageous? To not shudder or back down when things seem impossible. But to allow *faith* to take the reins. And lead my words to speak life over the dead.

And please, would you open my spiritual eyes (2 Kings 6:17) to the true weighty authority of my earth-bound prayers?For I want my words to be effective. Not defective.

Birthday Party-Take 2

The Kidlet Party. 16 little ones of all ages. 10 A.M. Double Chocolate Cake. Presents galore.

Yep. The reason why we didn't do it at OUR house. :) I've mentioned a Children's Museum we have in a neighboring town. Well, we booked the room and let them go *crazy*!!
It wasn't even cake time yet. They were just jockeying for position. ;)
The Lovely Maddie... Her mom joked about how little girls become so shy and coy when they get dressed up. They'll just stand there, waiting for the adoration of their beauty to come forth.
As the Hawaiian Hula Clown Girl is doing here. Did I mention they had a mirror with face paint?!!
Raegan was content to just sit and watch. For now.

I love this picture. I can imagine, years from now, us getting the same type of shot. As these girls all get ready for the prom. ;) Of course, I'm doubting they'll be painting their noses red then.
... Or using make-up that comes in these assortment of colors. :)
Don't you just love the intense look of concentration on Laurianna's face? Shhh...she's creating a masterpiece.
Though not all of our girls were content to dress up as princesses. Jessica was preparing to do battle!! You go girl!
And for now, Raegan just sat and laughed at them all.

It was during the Present Opening Frenzy that I saw a different side of my budding beauty, Charis. She's opening present after amazing present...to which I'm having to remind my usually polite child to say thank you...when she looks up and motions to the next person, armed with a gift bag.

"You can come next."

It so sounded like "Ah yes, pheasant girl. You now have my permission to approach the royal throne and grace me with your gift."

My mouth literally dropped open, I was so appalled. All the other parents in the room just laughed. Encouraging me with "they all do it", "it's just a phase", "it's not like we adults don't think that!". Hee hee, thanks guys!

The kids...they were totally unfazed by Charis's attitude. Apparently it's expected par for the course. For the little girl, armed with a present, happily obliged. And approached the Queen Majesty.

Kid parties. They are designed to bless the child. Humble the parent.

The Neverending Birthday Season- Part 1

This past week has been one continuous birthday celebration after another. Extended family. Our family. Charis's friends. Charis actually got confused as to the exact birth date...being that we just never stopped partying. ;)

Uncle Jonas and the girls...off walking on our Sunday picnic to the mountain.
We've been "pruning" some of our massive trees and are yet to dispose of the mess. So Charis visited one of our large debris piles, pulled out a limb, "planted" it...and dubbed it the birthday tree. Decorating it with everything they could get their hands on. I smell a child-established tradition in the making. ??

But before the family party began, we had (part of) Jet's family all to ourselves. The girls had just sang a song for them...and Grandmama was eloquently talking about worship. how God created us to worship. how beautiful their act of worship was. She was utilizing the moment...and was going deep.

And then it happened. Charis is sitting there. Unmoving. Intently staring into space. Completely silent. To which you assume, ahhh...she's really listening. You can tell she's just pondering all these things in her heart. How completely adorable.

But then she opened her mouth. "Grandmama...?"

"Yes, Charis?" We all wait. Fully expecting that this newly-turned 5 year old (who does tend to think on the deep side of things) would have some profound, yet child-like thing to say on worship.

She takes a deep breath and goes on, "This is my middle finger." She displays it for all to see.

Huh. didn't see that one coming.

I look at my mother-in-law, smiling. Knowing ALL too well how many times MY attempts to "train them up in the way they are to go" have ended in kid-comments like this one. Like the time my heartfelt talk about the blessing she was in my life was interrupted with "Did you know that when you eat food, it comes out of your hinney as poop?"

Um. Yeah. I think I knew that. Did you happen to catch what I was saying by any chance? ;)

So following my daughters poignant display of her middle finger, my teenage brother-in-law is in the background laughing hard and proclaiming, "Man, I'm going to have to remember that one! 'THIS is my MIDDLE finger'..........." I have to admit, we were all laughing hard.

And just like that, our lovely little moment faded into the background. *laughing* It's times like these that I am intimately aware that God has a crazy sense of humor and just wants us to lighten up a bit.

Imperfect parenting

Oh God, Oh God, Oh God.

There are seasons where my heart cries out with this type of feverish prayer almost daily. The times where I look around at the three little ones flanking me and wonder "Surely there are laws against clueless people becoming parents?!" For I feel like I'm failing. not doing it good enough. wasting precious time.

All those emotions are evoked at one concept: Motherhood. At times I almost feel crushed beneath the weight of the word and all it represents... all I feel I'm not getting right.

I must. I should. I have to. I had better. I need to. The list of mental "shouldas" goes on and on.... Until I am ready to put my hands up in the air and scream "I've failed, Lord. And I haven't even begun to start."

I feel overwhelmed and useless and inept simply because I am unavoidably incapable of finding balance within myself to accomplish all that lay before me. Teaching potty training, right from wrong, ABCs and 123s. Developing the mind, the body, the taste buds, the attitude. Building confidence, memories, and a strong sense of conviction. Modeling the type of life that I want my girls to live. One that I'm not sure, at times, that I live up to.

Meandering through the endless lists of "possibilities" out there for a Christian mom raising kids these days. All the while trying to keep my head above water as far as my own identity is concerned. Relationship with Christ. my husband. my family. my friends. myself. All within the parameters of 24 hours.

It's easy to get lazy. purposeless. indifferent.

So easy to just look around and see what others are doing. How other parents are getting by in the whole jungle of effective parenting. How we, as parents, should school them. discipline them. church them. nurture their spirits. their talents. their hearts. their individuality.

"Other's methods" in both parenting and homeschooling can so easily can become my goal. my gain. my god. What worked for them will surely work for me. I will succeed because I am doing it "right".

But I find that "other's ways" cannot be what I adopt. For it can soon become the enemy. Taunting me when I fall off track with "their" way of doing it. My children don't respond as theirs do. My children are not wired like theirs are. I am not wired like that. So expectations and forced schedules go out the window. As well as my sanity.

I mess up. I lose my patience. I say the wrong thing. I say the right thing at the wrong time. I crush their tender spirit instead of their wrong habit. And I pause amidst the daily ins and outs of motherhood and think, "Surely I'm not mature enough to be a mom. There must be some mistake. For I remember looking at my mom and thinking 'she has it all figured out. she's got it all under control.' " And I, sadly...do not.

And then from the gentle Throne of Grace comes the words,

"Trust in the Lord with all your heart, and do not rely on your own insight. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths. Be not wise in your own eyes; fear the Lord, and turn away from evil. It will be healing and refreshment..."

My calling as a parent or as a teacher isn't to "get it right". Just as that cannot be my goal as a person. For I fear I may never qualify. There are some days where I'd be dubbed "incompetent" before even getting out of bed. I fail, on some level, everyday.

At least, in my mind I do. Especially against the societal backdrop of accommodating the child. Meeting not only their every need, but their every whim. To have a child who excels, she must be involved in, but not limited to: piano recitals, debate lessons, chess matches, ballet classes, gymnastic meets, soccer tournaments, beauty contests, swim meets, 4-H clubs, ...and all before they're 5 years old.

What happened to just letting them use their imagination? It's free. Which is in stark contrast to all the above activities. But ...I digress.

So on the days where I am unable to just sit, play, and entertain them extensively...I feel guilty because somehow I "failed" them. I've stunted their potential. I've cut off their creative outlet. I've robbed them off utilizing their budding talents. At least according to the new line of parenting thinking.

But I have to renew my mind. Daily. And remind myself that my focus needs to be on the Lord and His wisdom and mercy. Especially where parenting is concerned. For if I get all caught up in our society's "needs" regarding how to rear well-rounded children, I'll either go crazy ...or bankrupt.

No, my calling as a parent has to be focused on loving them. holding them. cherishing them. training them up in the ways of the Lord. First by example... and then with words. To create in them the insatiable desire to know him. to walk with him. to love him. (Prov. 22:6)

Yet as simple as it all sounds. That can be the hardest thing to BE on a daily basis. A Godly example. A Godly reflection of the Father's heart for them. But it is what I hope to be. am called to be. strive to attain. All as I *embrace* this season of child-rearing.

"My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." 2 Cor. 12:9

I am weak, Lord. But you are Strong. Teach me how to teach these little ones. As I cradle them during this short season of life...please cradle me. For You are the Perfect Parent.

Mommy does big girl things?!

Apparently I need to hone up on my independent skills. Because when I pulled into a gas station yesterday, Selah leaned over to Charis and said, in a rather shrill and shocked voice,

"Mommy is going to get gas?.... by herself?!"


Obviously the shock of it all warranted that she repeat the question three times. Each time stressing a different part of the sentence:

MOMMY is going to get gas?

Mommy is going to GET GAS?

Mommy is going to get gas...BY HERSELF?

By the third time I was laughing so hard! (thoughas quietly as I possibly could b/c I didn't want to make it a further issue by letting Selah know I was amused.)

Yes. that's right. My husband spoils me by taking our car and filling it up for me in the evening. ;) Thanks, hon. But I'm thinking that I may need to start doing it by myself. Lest the girls continue thinking I'm inept.

The Cup

I'm often amazed at the heart lessons I learn simply by watching my girls interact.

At least a few times a week, you will hear this argument within the walls of our home. "She's got my cup! MOM!! She's got my cup...it's MINE. I want it. I used it yesterday and I want it today."

"NO!! I want the green one today!! I had it!"

Inevitably someone ends up in tears.

We have at least a dozen different kid cups that they can choose from. Different colors. shapes. sizes. It's not like I am withholding anything from my girls. Really, go ahead. Take your pick from the shelf. It's just that you cannot have the one that someone else has. That cup is not up for the taking. So set your focus on the one I have placed in front of you. See, I set out two. Enough for both of of you. Filled with the exact same thing. Only the outside is different.

I find the whole repeated argument quite tiresome. unbelievably annoying. and all around petty.

Yet. Don't I do this as well?

Now obviously I'm not speaking of sippy cups. I speak of wanting what another person has. Of overlooking the cup in front of me...and eyeballing the one in front of someone else. I mean, how often have I said, "If only I had her _________." You fill in the blank.

I know I've filled it in with countless idle, jealous, envious words. Her voice. Her personality. Her nose. Her body. Her....blah blah blah blah blah. It's all to easy to set yourself up, wanting desparately to trade what you have for something that someone else has. Something that you think, for whatever reason, is better than what you ended up with. Even though both are filled with the exact same thing: the Holy Spirit. And even though both are equally as treasured by The Potter. I know it's not like HE's withholding anything from me!

But something in me cries out, "But I want that. She may have had it yesterday. But dang it! I want it today. I'm tired of this pink cup. I want the green one!" *can't you just hear my adult version of an emotional --though silent--tantrum?*

I'm sure the Lord finds the whole process quite tiresome. unbelievably annoying. and all around petty. For He has placed before me a cup filled to the brim and overflowing with all sorts of giftings and blessings.

And all he asks of me is to "taste and see that the Lord is good."

Help me Lord to drink deeply of the cup you have set before me. Setting my eyes upon You...and not the person sipping innocently next to me.

New Diet Plan

Yeah, the whole "Beating" and "Hitting" method of losing weight didn't work. Huh. At least my girls had fun trying.

So I, being the ever-devout little Christian woman, turned to the Scriptures. Where I made a startling discovery:

"All the fat is mine, says the Lord." Leviticus 3:16

To which I say?

By all means, come and take what is rightfully yours, Lord!!!

Who knew it could be that easy?!!

hee hee. I couldn't help myself. Sarcasm. I swear it's a disease. ;)
Baby Fat update: 9 pounds to go.

Hidden Places

The face of my third daughter. Unseen. Though every detail being perfected. Vunerable. Yet completely protected. An unfinished canvas. Held by the Artistic hand of the Father.


All while she rested in the cradle of my womb.


Even as I look at the picture, emotions are stirred within me. That little face, now, represents so much more than a computerized image. For she is my daughter. Alive. Bursting with giggles. personality. strength. beauty.

And though she was very much real during the hidden phase, she is now something I can hold onto. A gift that I can physically embrace.

"But when the fullness of the time was come, God sent..."

And then she came forth. Suddenly. Months of hidden work. Of God's planning and preparation coming to fruition as I held her in my arms. The season of hiddenness was complete.



Lord, I know you work in the hidden places. Just as my girls were formed in secret. You work where man cannot always perceive. You move in an unseen realm. With your very hand, you hold back Time from racing on. Yet, You speak and life is brought forth. Time is brought to fulfillment by your very command.

I know you are moving in my life in ways I cannot comprehend. To an extreme that I couldn't even dream to think or ask. You are praying. preparing. planning. Endlessly on my behalf. Even though I do not see it. Even though I cannot yet embrace it. I know Your hand has set in motion GOOD things. (James 1:17)

So I ask, Lord, what are you doing now in my life? In the life of my husband? my daughters? How can we pray? prepare? plan? For I know you desire to give me insight. glimpses. understanding.

"Surely the Lord GOD does nothing unless He reveals His secret to His servants the prophets." Amos 3:7

Help my heart to remain still. vunerable. protected. As I, the unfinished canvas, am held in the palm of the Artist's Hand. Help me to rest. In the waiting. In the hoping. Amidst the hidden process. Until Your fullness of time.

5 years have come and gone?

Where is this little girl? Can anyone possibly tell me?! Where did all those nonsensical babbles go? The stumbling around because you're still trying to learn to walk?

I've been looking for her this past weekend...but the big girl on the phone seems to have taken her place.
How is it possible, my dear Charis, that you are already 5 years old?!! Has it really been that long since you first made your appearance into our lives? ...since God did his first birthing miracle in our lives?! Since we became new parents? Truly. Has it been that long?
You are my precious, precious girl. I love you like I could love no one else. For the Hand of God has carved out a niche in my heart that can only hold love for you, my dear daughter. From the first time we found out we were expecting you...*surprise*....God began to knit my heart with yours as I began to try and imagine what motherhood was like.

We prayed while you were yet in the womb for specific things to be placed in your heart, your personality, your very being. And God, in all His sovereign wonder, has answered every one of those prayers.
For you bring joy to all who meet you. You speak Truth with a grace and wisdom that cannot possibly originate from such a young child. You love regardless of whether it is deserved. You love because you can.
You are precious to the Father. More precious than mere words could ever capture. Never doubt that. Never sway from that truth. For it is powerful enough to bring you through anything life throws at you.

When you were still in my womb, we made a "prayer appointment". Debbie, one of the three people praying for you during that hour, saw a vision:
"I see little running feet. Running after the things of the Lord. and then bigger feet running after things of the Lord. And then a little bigger. Make her a runner, Lord."

Already I can see where you do run after the things of the Lord. God has his hand on your life. There is no doubt. Here are some other things that the Lord placed into the people's mouths to pray, prophetically:

"Thank you for this child's gift of leadership. That she will point people to you. that popularity won't be in the way for her, but something that she can use as a tool."

"She'll easily answer the questions of her peers...and have the words to turn them to you."

"She'll continually ask 'What is Your plan?' and walk in it."

"Break the things spoken by doctors (over this pregnancy/delivery) of 'What will be, will be'!"

This one came to pass literally weeks later, as I went into preterm labor. He disproved the doctors' theories again and again as I remained in the hospital for a week, keeping you in the safety of the womb. Defying all odds, as they had said nothing would stop you from coming within hours after I was admitted.

And the people praying had no idea that were asking God for a pain-free birth. But HE did. And he used this prayer to encourage us in continuing to believe Him for the miraculous. To believe him for the things outside of the realm of "what will be, will be." Our God is bigger than that. HE is the Author of the unseen miraculous!

"I see a pair of lungs. ...God strengthen the lungs."

Again, the fruit of this prayer came a week later. Your lungs shouldn't have been as developed as they were. God did strengthen your little body in that hour of prayer. As I know he will continue to do...in perfect time. Regardless of what others say or expect. Your life, my dear Charis...down to the details of the unseen, like your little lungs... are ever before the King. And he will ALWAYS see to the details, as you submit them to Him.

Here's part of a letter I wrote to you when you were a month old, :

"Dear little Charis- I can't explain how precious you are to me. ...When I first saw you, I got a little scared because I didn't feel that immediate bond they say happens. Of course, that may have been because you were covered in wires and such. But now I just can't get enough of you. I can't imagine my life without yours.

I can't wait until the time when you begin to interact with me and Daddy. I feel like I'm counting down 'til that time..."

How is it that that time has come? On so many levels!! You are truly your own person. So beautiful. So creative. So loving. So lively.

I love you, my dear one. I know, without doubt, that the day God had you in mind for our family was a day of overflowing blessing. And as my heart *bursts* with emotions for you that I cannot put to words, I can only hope that my life, played out before you day by day, will be evidence of my love for you. A mirror of His love.