that lady in the brown house

"aw mom, you need to be more like that lady in the brown house."

apparently she's a runner.

i ran. once upon a time. i did. seriously, i used to be a runner. well, i suppose, even "used to be" is kind of a stretch. let's just say i've gone through seasons of running. maybe it's more accurate to admit i've even run through seasons of running. in fact, i've run right through seasons of running. (did i wear out that phrase yet?)

but now ...

now i'm
a dog walker.
a child chaser.
a kid driver.
a step climber.
a carpool cruiser.
a cul-de-sac hiker.
a grocery store waltzer.

do these things count?

the boy who compared his mother to the runner-lady in the brown house is ten. he's barely crossed the line into double digits, but somehow, this boy, my son, MY OWN FLESH AND BLOOD, was able to hurtle me across the line of self-doubt. and all it took was just one teensy-weensy comment about a lady in a brown house.

who happens to run.

my son didn't say it to be mean. he wouldn't do that. he was being a tease and a ten year old and that's just the way it came out.

but still...

i walked away from our conversation at the kitchen counter and i immediately thought,
"i really should get back into running.
i really should be a mother more devoted to exercise.
i really should be a better eater.
i really should be ...
                      ... a better cook!

OH, SHOOT -- DINNER! what's for dinner tonight, anyway?

and all of a sudden the frozen pizza i was planning on is no longer an option because of that lady in brown house. because of the-brown-house-lady, i was now fully prepared to run (yes, run!) and purchase something all organicky from the market and run (yes, run!) back home to whip it up. it was only 4:15.  i had plenty of time to rifle through my recipes and race around my kitchen. in fact, if i put on one of those pedometers i bet i could clock a few good miles in my meal making alone.

i don't need TO GO running ... i AM running! i am running around all over the place. all the time. good gracious, i'm running wild. i'm running around half the time like a woman with her hair on fire. my son was wrong. i AM the lady in the brown house. i'm just not wearing spandex and a super cute athleta workout top! but be assured friends, this woman is running!

but this post isn't really about the pounding of our feet, it's about the pounding of our words. because there's nothing like someone's critical words to get our mind running right into the arms of discouragement.

no matter who we are or how good we are feeling, we quickly leap into the sprint of negative thoughts which seem always ready to race around the track of our vulnerable minds.

and, all of us know, it's a hard race to win. when it comes to those well-trampled tracks running deep in our minds, we've often lost before we've even stepped up to the starting line.

just this morning i was complimenting myself on something i'd written and sent off.  just this morning my daughter told me she liked my eye color. just this morning i was feeling good about my clean kitchen floor and the fact that i could finally see the floor in the laundry room! just this morning my husband texted me, "i love you."

just this morning everything was pretty peachy keen.

and then came afternoon. and my son compared me to that lady in the brown house.  and suddenly it didn't matter that we were standing on a clean kitchen floor or that another one of my children liked my eye color.

i was only hearing the words of comparison. because that's what i was choosing to hear.

now, i can easily make this post about the words we choose to utter. because that is REALLY, REALLY IMPORTANT. "death and life are in the power of the tongue, and those who love it will eat its fruits." (proverbs 18:21). did you get that? it's LIFE OR DEATH important. and i happen to agree. i've spent some considerable time on both sides of the hurt-feelings-fence. i've been terribly wounded by mean spirited mutterings and i've wounded others terribly with my, as my mother would say, "ability to communicate effectively."

i get it.

i was that daughter -- scratch that -- i AM that daughter or wife or mother or sister or friend who can come up with the quick, snarky comeback. i am owner of an awful arsenal of words -- and i assure you, they are nothing short of weapons.

"there is one whose rash words are like sword thrusts, but the tongue of the wise brings healing." ~ proverbs 12:18

have you ever encountered the sword thrust of a rash word? it's a rather messy business.

my mother told me when i was just barely a teen, (because you only need to be barely a teen for your mother to tell you things like this).  "jody lynn ... (though my name might sound it, we were not country folk. but do feel free to add that twangy draw, it will make the whole thing more interesting) ... she said, "jody lynn, you have a gift with words. and you can use this gift to greatly encourage others or to greatly discourage others. the choice is yours." guess which gift i was using at the time of our little talk? hmm...

but today i want to focus this post not on speaking encouraging words, but on hearing encouragement.  sometimes, it's about choosing to hear good things. "he who has an ear, let him hear what the Spirit says..." revelation 3:22

did you know it's a choice?

did you know you don't have to wrap yourself up in everybody's opinions or hasty observations?

i didn't have to stand in my kitchen and feel insecure about my running issues -- or lack thereof. i don't have to compare myself to that other mother (brown house or blue) who seems to have it more together. who seems to never lose her credit card or iphone or car keys or children ... or her very mind! (not that i have any idea who could possibly lose any (or all) of these important items ... no idea whatsoever).

i don't have to beat myself up when someone doesn't like what i've done or decided OR COOKED ... i don't have to wear the cloak of another human being's disappointment.

i don't have to listen to words which defeat or disapprove or even bring death.

i belong to Him.

in proverbs 13:3 it says, "whoever guards his mouth preserves his life..." that's the speaking portion. but a little earlier in proverbs we are instructed to, "guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life." (proverbs 4:23).  did you know there's a direct line between your ears and your heart? yes! and i don't know about you, but that part about it determining "the course of your life." well, that makes me a little nervous.

"for as a man thinketh in his heart, so is he ..." proverbs 23:7

uh-oh.

my sister is the biology teacher, and she could explain it all 100 times better, but the mouth, ears, heart and eyes all fuse together in a symbiotic (bio word for my sis) relationship -- one effects the other. what we embrace with our ears delves deep into our heart. and after churning a bit there, our eyes and mouth work together to reveal the result. i don't think matthew was a biology teacher either, but he sure nails it: "but what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart ..." (matthew 15:18).

"let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer." psalm 19:14

did you know there are well over 150 verses in the bible which address the power of words? that's no accident. in the king james version the word "tongue" is mentioned 129 times. God knew how much we'd be challenged. God was well aware of the external explosive words and also aware of the internal erosion words. in them, we can either find His delight or we can find our death. it's a choice.

today . . .

what are you choosing to say?

and just as importantly, what are you choosing to hear?

* * * * * * * * 

years ago, in a moment of parenting desperation, i ran (yes, ran) to my office and whipped up a document which i called: "scriptures children need to hide in their hearts and sometimes write down on their papers." i broke it down into the sections which seemed especially problematic for our family. (i.e., grumbling, complaining, unkind words, jealousy, anger, ingratitude). under each of these lovely topics i added several verses which addressed the issue. now, when the kids get a little snippy or ugly or haughty, we pull out this little document and spend some time copying verses from the subject area in need. i haven't done this in a while with my crew -- i must go find that document!

i suppose this is all very english teacher-ish of me. but it's been good for us. it not only offers a measure of discipline, but it allows the child to absorb God's truth. and who, by the way, doesn't need more of that? when one of my little sinners has to copy 100 times, "do everything without grumbling or complaining," it begins to stick. it doesn't mean they won't grumble or complain again, but they will think twice about it ... and, even better, they will become more familiar with God's word. my children have memorized their share of scripture because of yucky sin. and i love that. God really doesn't waste anything...not even our ugly sins!

if you're interested, i'm happy to share the little scripture document with you. just leave me a comment or message and i'll be happy to pass it along. doesn't summer seem to be the perfect time for something like this?

and by the way, it works just as well for adults! =)

so, back to that 10 year old boy.... i'm kind of debating whether he needs to do a little copying of scripture today. i know he wasn't trying to be mean or hurt my feelings, but i just might be saving my boy from a whole lot of future trouble if i can teach him the lesson: say nothing to a woman about her need to exercise -- not even your own mother!

"do you see a man (or boy, as the case happens to be) who is hasty in his words? There is more hope for a fool than for him." ~ proverbs 29:20  

double digits and driving

he gave me a hug, a kiss on the cheek, and a good night, mom all in about 3 seconds flat.  "i'll be up in minute to tuck you in, connor,"  i said with hands buried in the hot water of dinner dishes.  "no, it's okay, mom.  you don't have to come up.  i can put myself down."

tomorrow my boy turns 10.

it is his last night being 9 and i will tuck him into his bed whether he needs me to, or not.

i know he's no longer the baby.  he gave up that long standing status when bella came home a couple years ago,  but tell that to my mama's heart.  he's always been my little guy, but now he's growing inches each week and tomorrow will hit double digits.  that feels big for him.  that, perhaps, feels bigger for me as i watch this little guy grow right before my eyes.

and even though he was the youngest for so long, he isn't a typical youngest.  there's nothing about him that seems babied or coddled or helpless.  from the time he was tiny, he liked to pretend he was big; in charge, strong and independent; in the driver's seat -- literally, in the driver's seat. before he was barely walking, he loved nothing more than to climb into my car and sit behind the steering wheel.  he still does that. i think it is the place where he dreams best: behind the wheel.

he is a boy who drives things. and as he hits double digits this week, i have to wonder what does that mean for this little guy's future?  where will he go?  what will he do? driving typically takes you places -- that is, unless you're a little dude pretending.  on second thought, maybe it is exactly in our pretending that we travel the furthest.  there is this long road before him. waiting. wild and wonderful. terrible and terrific.  but as his mom, i am in no hurry for him to travel out on it.  i am in no hurry for this child to grow up any faster than he already is.  i wonder to myself, what will i do when he is no longer riding his bike in the driveway, through the yard, around the house, down the street?  someday he'll trade in that worn out bicycle for a car and that car will have wheels and an engine and will go places unseen from my kitchen window.  places which cannot hear my dinnertime call from the back door.  places which are beyond me.  places beyond.

my boy who drives things turns 10 tomorrow.

one of our family traditions is to take a special 10th birthday trip.  the older three had their adventures and this weekend connor will get his.  he and rick are heading up to northern minnesota for some father-son time.  when rick and connor began talking about what they would do for this trip, the only thing connor cared about was that it included (you guessed it) "driving something."  so off they will go this saturday to drive snow mobiles up north...i think there's talk of some dog-sledding as well.  not that we couldn't do that in our own backyard, mind you, but there's something special in going away. just a boy and his dad.  a few days ago he said to me, "i can't believe it's finally my turn, mom."  my answer:  "i can't believe it either."

yep, my boy turns 10 tomorrow.

 connor rides his bike everyday -- even in the snow.  

 he doesn't mind driving people places either!

 guess what he was going to do with this?  yep, drive it. 

the boy has owned more remote control things than i can count.

this particular purchase was the bribe needed to get him to stop sucking his thumb. 

it worked!

 connor can even pick his nose while driving -- the kid's got talent!

sometimes, a little help is a good thing, too. 

room, or no room?

i wish my mom could hear them.  for the past month or so, my two teenagers have been walking around the house with occasional bursts of song -- the hallelujah chorus to be exact. "and He shall reign forever and ev-----er..." emily an alto and tyler a tenor. (though he tells me he's getting closer all the time to a bass - ha!)  one spontaneously begins and the other joins in -- at the dinner table, from their bedrooms, out in the garage -- i hear them. i wish my mom could too.  she's in ohio, but every time they start singing, i think about how much she would love the sound of her grandchildren's voices mixing together in her very favorite christmas music.  and, not to mention, it's impressive.  i mean this isn't jingle bells folks...it's handel's messiah.  pretty serious stuff.

now, i have to tell you, they didn't just learn it on their own...not for the fun of it.  they attend a high school which has this brilliant practice in place:  an all school choir.  this is different than choir class.  every monday morning around 10:30 the entire school -teachers and staff included - stop what they are doing and gather together to sing in the commons area.  isn't that the coolest idea ever?  when i heard that during the application process, i was like, "wow. awesome. so cool."  my kids have other interests than school choir, but i love the fact that they get a little piece of it regardless.  this tuesday night they will perform the hallelujah chorus at their high school christmas concert.  i truly can't wait, but i know i'll be wishing my mom could be there with us.

with five school aged kids in our house at christmas time, there is much music.  it's honestly one of my favorite things about this season -- all the singing and reciting and practicing of lines.  sarah's 7th grade class will sing in a special christmas chapel this coming week. she's been letting out her own occasional "ding dong merrily on high, in heav'n the bells are ringing!" and just a few days ago, we all gathered to watch bella's preschool program.  a slew of 4 year olds up on a stage singing "fear not, fear not, don't be afraid..."  what an amazing message for all of us.  i mean we were cracking up watching them.  they couldn't have been cuter (or more unfocused) up there waving wildly at parents and calling out loudly to friends.  looking up at the lights and down at the risers.  twirling hair and sparkly dresses. each kid was doing his own thing.  at one point, bella caught the eye of her sister who was apparently laughing too hard in the pew, and she began to yell (into the microphone, mind you) "stop it sarah! stop it!"  shortly after that little episode an unruly boy began to act up in the row behind bella -- she wasted no time turning around to give him a piece of her mind.  when she was finished with her scolding, she faced forward once again and told all of us with hands on her hips, "holden is not singing right!"  oh my.  the program was short,  that was probably a good thing.  but my goodness, it was so darn cute. we all piled back into our car on that - 4 degree night. cold weather outside, but warm with the joy of it all.

and then there was connor's christmas program.  he got to be in the K-4 christmas musical this year.  the 4th graders at chapel hill academy, being the oldest, get the big parts, of course,  and connor was to play joseph.  it wasn't the lead.  but he had a lot of lines and who doesn't want to be joseph, the father of baby Jesus, right?  connor took his part seriously.  he practiced those lines every single day, learning them all on his own.  i heard him up in his room.  i caught him in front of the bathroom mirror.  they boy was all in.  the performance was called "the first leon."  leon (noel spelled backward) was a boy who didn't get a real part in the christmas pageant.  (the whole thing was a play within a play).  instead he was cast as the lowly understudy to the lowly innkeeper.  he had only one line to learn, "no room."  and since anything is possible in the world of childrens' musicals, the innkeeper did, in fact, get sick and, understudy leon had to step in.  and that's where it all got good.  connor, up on stage as joseph, with his sweet mary looking for a room in bethlehem. you know the story: "in those days caesar augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken..." joseph and his betrothed, headed to the city of david on a donkey.  except in this version leon, now playing the role of innkeeper, is the one waiting for them. and when the kindergartners, dressed up as stable animals, wise men and angels were finished singing,  joseph and mary come across the stage to the innkeeper.  leon, in his big moment,  confidently delivers his one line, "no room."  because that's just how the story goes,  right?  joseph though, decided to press a little harder, "but don't you know mr. innkeeper, that this woman is carrying the savior, the son of God, the savior of the world?" we never talk about that part, do we?  did joseph plead, insist, beg or barter?  we don't really know.  but in this version he did and leon was right there with joseph.  in fact, he broke from the script and changed the whole outcome of the bethlehem story when he exclaimed, "wait!  you can have my room!"  after delivering this unusual and unexpected line, leon began his solo...

"you can have my room, Jesus.   

you're always welcome here, Jesus.  

i won't turn you away to a cattle stall.

you can have my room, Jesus.  

you can have it all."

leon, the understudy, understood what it meant to be on the outside looking in.  he understood what it felt like when there was no room.  no room in the circle of friends, no room at the popular lunch table, no room in the christmas pageant, no room for leon.  and just like that, he changed the story line,  declaring there WAS room for the little Lord Jesus.  there IS room in his heart.  "you can have my room!" he announced.


that might not be the traditional outcome of the bethlehem story.  but that's the message God wants us to have this christmas season:  there is room.  my little joseph and the unpredictable, innkeeper leon, didn't change the course of history in their 4th grade play at chapel hill this year, but they certainly pulled at the strings of this mama's heart. i have to give connor credit, he had prepared me. weeks ago, he explained "mom, when leon begins to sing his solo ... that's when you're supposed to cry... mr. zink said all the mom's will cry at that part."  i, have to tell you, i would have nailed my cue even if connor hadn't given me a heads up.

it was a sweet play.  the angels sang brightly.  the shepherds were darling.  the scene changes went smoothly.  and the message hit home. for days afterward, i continued to think about that one little line, "no room."  we have felt a little bit like that on our entrance into minnesota.  would there be room?  would there be room for our big, chaotic family?  would people welcome us into their church and school and community?  would there be room in the friend group or at the lunch table for a junior girl...a freshman boy...a 7th grader... a 4th grader...for bella?  we kind of wondered as we came.  we didn't travel by donkey.  we didn't come to be counted.  i am absolutely not "with child" and we sure as heck don't have anything too holy going on in our home most days, but we, too, have met some leons along the way.  men and women and children who have told us through their words and actions, "there's room." there's room for the mcnatts in minnesota.  

and so this christmas time, which could be quite difficult as we are far away from so many loved ones, somehow still feels warm.  we have snow piled so high you'd be amazed and temperatures so low you'd be appalled, but we are warm.  warm with the welcome and room in the hearts of so many here who have let us in to their lives.  who have shown us the love of Jesus making room in their schedules and circles and days for our family. 

i'm relating this to us, because it's what i tend to do, but don't miss the real message here in this piece.  it's not really about room for the mcnatts,  it's about room in our hearts for the Lord Jesus.  is there room in your heart for the sweet babe of bethlehem this christmas season?  when we, like leon, offer up our room, our lives, our hearts...it is the sweetest song we will ever sing.

"you can have my room, Jesus.   

you're always welcome here, Jesus.  

i won't turn you away to a cattle stall.

you can have my room, Jesus.  

you can have it all."

cast your cares

we used to say grandma had "trouble with her nerves."  as a child, i don't think i really understood exactly what that meant, except that we needed to sometimes use quieter voices in her house.  except that we couldn't throw the basketball or the volleyball or the softball or especially not our sister against the siding when grandma was knitting on her porch or cooking in her kitchen. except that on snowy holidays when all of us wild cousins gathered together we were better off playing way down in the basement or way up in the attic.  there was only so much chaos grandma could handle.  i guess i understood a little bit about that -- i at least understood how to lower my voice or take the game outdoors.  but truly for me, having nerves always seemed to have more to do with having guts-- like, did i have the guts to go ding dong ditch our neighbor? did i have the guts to say hi in the hallway to that boy i liked?  did i have the guts to call out that mean girl at the lunch table?

now that i'm older, i am no longer tempted to ding dong ditch the neighbors --at least not  of late, but i do understand a bit more about "trouble with the nerves."  it really wasn't about grandma being brave or losing her nerve.  it had more to do with anxiety and worry.  grandma probably suffered from some significant anxiety issues, but in our house we didn't exactly call it that.  perhaps you also had a euphemism or two which your family used or uses.  uncle billy has “a little problem” or aunt susie had “a slight issue."  cousin tommy didn’t get fired, but he “lost his job.”  really? he lost it? words are a wonderful thing and how we choose to use them is even more wonderful (or terrible).  at the very least, it’s quite fascinating.  

but this piece isn’t about words, it’s about anxiety.  not “trouble with the nerves,” but plain, old, hard-to-put-my-finger-on-it worry.  you see, anyone who knows me, knows i am not a particularly anxious person.  even with five children i don’t worry all that much.  in fact, i think my oldest girl wishes sometimes her mother worried a little bit more.  she’s my worrier and she she even worries that her mother doesn’t worry enough.  did you follow that?  the truth is, God has given us all unique wiring.  and that’s what makes it fun (and sometimes hard).  i remember once being at a park with my girlfriend and our two toddlers.  connor and his little buddy were climbing on the (very sturdy, well designed, heavily padded, child friendly) playground.  as connor clamored quickly to the top, i, the proud mother, was watching him and thinking, “oh my, look at him go!  what a big boy he is!”  at this moment, however, i noticed my girlfriend sitting next to me beginning to twitch.  finally, unable to bear it one minute more, she exclaimed, “doesn’t that make you nervous? aren’t you afraid he might fall?” we were watching the exact same scene and yet had two very different reactions.  some of that had to do with the fact that she was watching her first born and i was watching my fourth...but regardless, we were two different women when it came to climbing toddlers.

and i don’t mean to be in the least bit flippant.  of course there are times when we need to stand beneath our child or even remove our child from the inappropriate climbing thing.  sarah elizabeth was a bit of a climber.  as soon as she could walk she figured out how to climb up onto the counter using the drawer pulls as steps.  her little feet fit perfectly onto the brass knobs of our kitchen drawers and she would scale up like an outdoorsman on a rock wall.  i have had to pull this girl off of plenty of dangerously high places.  still do, in fact.

there’s that kind of worry.  but then there’s that even more elusive kind of anxiety.  that thing which kind of hovers over the soul and eats away at the ease.  that’s the real monster.  yes, we need to be cautious at times.  yes, we may even have good cause to worry on occasion, but that troublesome anxiety which steals the peace is the awful, hard thing.  and, unfortunately,  we have it in our home right now. 

grandma may have had trouble with her nerves, but i have a cute, nine year old boy who also suffers from that ambiguous grip of irrational panic.  for connor it is not about lowering our voices or refraining from chaos, but my little guy, the very one who clamored up to the top of that play set as a toddler, has recently been hit with some of that awful, unexplained, anxiety.  and it has been a whole lot worse watching him climb through this, then it was watching him climb up the high stairs of a playground.  i’d like to blame it on the move, but i can’t.  the signs were there before we moved to minnesota.  connor has gone through a time this year where, for absolutely no reason at all, he feels a little panicky about leaving home and leaving me.  he feels an anxiousness which he can’t quite identify.  this isn’t a child who has any reason to worry. we’ve left and lost a few of the other children, but never this one.  we’d understand it if it was his older brother, tyler, who was struggling with this issue.  many years ago, in the chaos of christmas eve and out of town company, tyler (a 1st grader at the time) was left behind at our church.  it took a call from the church security for us to realize he was even missing - not a stellar parenting moment, i assure you.  i was already home basting the turkey when i answered the phone.  there are times when it seems clearly we have too many children and too much confusion in our home -- this was, without a doubt, one of them.

but back to my nine year old.  so, where does that come from? how does a nine year old all of a sudden begin to worry about being left or forgotten or whatever?  what does a blue-eyed, happy go lucky little guy have to worry about?  there’s nothing we can identify as the root of this problem.  could it somehow stem from my cancer diagnosis? maybe. has his older brother wrestled him one time too many? perhaps. i don’t know.  truly we don’t know.  he can’t explain it and we can’t quite understand it.  but it is what it is.  of course starting a new school and having to make all new friends has escalated this issue.  regardless, it has been hard watching him deal with this ugly thing which seems to be the very antithesis of childhood.  

the good news is, though it was a hard first couple weeks of school, connor is doing much better lately.  we have been working through it and dealing with it bit by bit. when we were in the thick of the battle i taped a verse in his homework folder and encouraged him to read it whenever he felt panicky.  “cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.”  (1 peter 5:7).  as many of you know, connor loves to fish.  what a cool image this verse gave us as we talked about literally casting our cares on Jesus, just like he casts his fishing reel far into the lake water.   what a cool connecting point for my little guy.  i don’t think me taping a verse into his folder fixed everything, but it was a beginning.  and this anxiety and worry has been a place where we’ve had to come together this month and pray hard, pray specifically, pray beseechingly to our God for His mercy.  if you are a mother who has a child under attack, you know the kind of praying i am talking about.  no mother, worrier or non-worrier, wants to see her child riddled with anything awful.

my girls have also gone through times of anxiety, so this is nothing brand new for our family.  more and more, i am aware that anxiety is everywhere.  it doesn’t discriminate.  it is not just for the fragile grandmas or hovering mothers of this world.  anxiety can attack strong men and small boys alike.  i know young college girls fighting the grip of this panic and popular high schoolers who battle daily for peace. i know stay at home moms who seem so together, but who feel the crush of constant concern.  it is what it is.  i am certain satan loves to use his wicked methods to create doubt and stir up unease.  God’s word tells us to be vigilant against his attacks. “finally, my brothers, be strong in the Lord, and in the power of his might. put on the whole armour of God, that you may be able to stand against the wiles of the devil.” ~ ephesians 6:10-11  if that doesn't say battle, i am not sure what does.

it’s a war.  don’t think for one minute it isn’t.  when i was diagnosed with cancer last year, anxiety became a new part of my life.  especially in those first few months, i was riddled with a sense of uncertainty.  perhaps you could say i had reason to worry, but truly God gave me a new type of compassion for those who struggle. i may never have understood grandma’s bad nerves as a child, but i didn’t have to go very far down the path as cancer patient to recognize this new level of attack on my spirit.   maybe that’s why i am writing today -- to offer a tiny bit of encouragement if you, too, have found yourself in this terrible place of panic...or worry...or fear.  it seems to me, satan is fighting harder than ever to needle us into places of doubt and anxiousness.  if he is successful in attacking our minds, there is the chance that he can paralyze us in our actions.  what does satan want more, than paralyzed and fearful people?  he’d love to see christians frozen in their fear. but that’s not how God works. 

i woke this morning with the thought to share connor’s small story and these big bible verses with y’all.  to encourage you to be strong and courageous.  to encourage you to call on the powerful name of Jesus.  satan is no match for the power of His blood.  tape a bible verse in your folder, cast your cares deep in the water, call out His name and know that He conquers all things.  in all things victorious, He is Lord.  even in the ambiguous areas of our deepest fears.  maybe a bad case of the nerves does have something to do with being brave after all.

be brave.  
be brave in Him.
  
"i prayed to the Lord, and he answered me, freeing me from all my fears." ~ pslam 34: 4

"because he hath set his love upon me, therefore will I deliver him: I will set him on high, because he hath known my name. he shall call upon me, and I will answer him: I will be with him in trouble; I will deliver him, and honour him. with long life will I satisfy him, and show him my salvation." ~ psalm 91:14-16


"for God hath not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind." ~ 2 timothy 1:7

"therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. are you not much more valuable than they? can any one of you by worrying add a single hour to your life?"  matthew 6:25-27

never a dull moment

i'm seriously considering changing the title of my blog.  even the sparrow just isn't cutting it lately.  too sweet.  too serene. as my friend, kelly, just texted me tonight, "too sedate" for this season of life. i am thinking more along the lines of  never a dull moment or the adventures of the swiss family mcnatts. i'm pretty sure one flew over the cuckoo's nest could work too.


today in the flurry of packing and preparing to leave for our minnesota mission(impossible), we found ourselves in the middle of yet another atlanta adventure. rick had flown out early this morning and the children were all home for a day off from school.   walking in with an armload of groceries, i promptly began shooing the youngest three kids out of the house and into the backyard sunshine.  "no tv today kiddos," i harped while herding them out the door.  "go play in the woods...the yard...the great outdoors."  (i wanted to add something smart [albeit, somewhat passive aggressive] like, "take advantage of it while you can!"  -- but i managed to refrain.)


i had just opened the dryer door grabbing fistfuls of clean laundry when my 11 year old began screaming from the yard -- like real screaming.  us moms know the difference between the pretend play and the preteen drama and the real live something is terribly wrong piercing cry of true alarm.  and something was, indeed, terribly wrong.  connor and sarah had been climbing trees in the yard and connor fell out....less than 10 feet, but on the way down his leg snagged a broken limb and it tore into his skin leaving a deep gash and a 5 inch laceration on the inside of his knee.  i can only tell you i have never before seen anything like it.  it was massive, wide open, with raw flesh hanging. we thought we were seeing bone. needless to say, it was well beyond what my mama kisses and box of bandaids could handle.  i didn't hesitate dialing 911.


my oldest daughter had already left to take tyler to a friend's house and was on her way to target when she got the call from sarah, "emily, you have to come home right now, mom needs you...connor fell and his leg is ripped open...and an ambulance is coming..."  just what every mother doesn't want -- her brand new driver racing home in a state of total panic.  but that's exactly what happened.  and what's more, as em pulled into our neighborhood, the ambulance and fire truck came blazing by her with lights flashing and sirens blaring.  my newly driving daughter floored her car and followed right behind the speeding emergency vehicles.  by the time she arrived home there was a police car out front, an ambulance in the driveway and a giant hook and ladder truck hovering. what a scene for her to come home to.


but back to connor.  the poor boy was white as a ghost and shaking all over, he and i both decided it was just better to not look at the wound but to hug each other tightly as he perched on the countertop.  the paramedics closed the gash and then recommended they transport the two of us to scottish rite -- our children's hospital.  i always marvel in the presence of those who are medically skilled. (i am unequivocally, not). when i saw this injury, i couldn't imagine anything short of surgery.  the doctors told connor it looked more like a shark attack.  they encouraged him to stick with that story...he might get some good mileage out of a tale like that.  connor couldn't help but smile, for you know, little boys aren't entirely distraught over their stitches and scars.  connor kept telling the doctors, "but it was only a small tree." he wanted them to know he is capable of much grander foliage.  


an ambulance ride, a trip to the ER and 14 stitches later and we are home tonight.  a little worse for the wear maybe, but relatively speaking, all in one piece.  we walked through the door and found signs of celebration set up in our kitchen.  the other children had gone out and bought their brother a bunch of balloons, some candy and a few toys from the dollar store.  connor hobbled into the house and took in the scene.  his smile told me it was nice to know how much he is loved.  since coming home, he's had three adoring sisters attending to his every need and a brother willing to carry him anywhere and willing to play anything.  i don't like one bit what happened today, but i have to tell you, tonight i am especially touched by the display of love demonstrated by my kids for one another.

all night long, i have passed the balloons attached now to connor's bed.  one of them says welcome home.  i read it earlier tonight and stopped with a load of laundry in my arms thinking, "but wait a minute, we haven't even left yet."  tomorrow is our trip to minnesota, and yet this balloon reads, welcome home.  and i kind of welled up with tears, because it occurred to me at the end of this emotional day, this house isn't really our home.  our home is the people in it.  our home is the big brother and three sisters loving outlandishly on their little brother tonight...it is the mom and the dad and the dog and the whole entire wild mess of marriage and parenting and constant prayer...and as long as we are all together, we are home.  accidents and injuries and insanity and everything.  all of us together under one roof.  any roof.  any state.  any weather.


tonight, baby girl sleeps cuddled up close beside me and that superstar 11 year old sister, save-the-day-sarah, is sleeping just below on my bedroom floor.  she had been crying in her room earlier when i walked by...still rattled about what she witnessed today with her brother.  she said she just couldn't get the picture of that wound and connor's frightened face out of her mind.  i know how she feels.  moments like these make us mamas want to gather close our kids -- to hold on tight -- to clasp them hard and not look at the wound but to look only at each other and only at our God.  for that is what we do.  because, without a doubt, life will provide plenty of situations to remind us there is never a dull moment, we are always just a step away from the cuckoo's nest and we are absolutely well tangled in the adventures of a family, swiss or otherwise.


and we can be sure, even the sparrow has found a home,indeed...
atlanta or minnesota or mars...
we have a home.
home. 
we.

more christmas, or less?

i didn't see it, but my oldest, emily, informed me that tonight bella kissed the christmas tree. it was bedtime and littlest one had been told to go upstairs and get on her pajamas. but before doing so, emily watched as her tiny sister went over to the tree, put her arms around it (as best she could), whispered "goodnight christmas tree," and then leaned in to kiss it.

a couple of weeks ago bella tuned in big time to christmas.  last year it was exciting with it being her first christmas and all, but this year she really, really gets it.  i think the fact that she was asked to "play" mary in her preschool christmas pageant sealed the deal.  after her big performance, she was all in -- both feet firmly planted in the most wonderful time of the year.  and let's just be honest here, it is pretty special to watch the wonder.  i mean who doesn't love a chinese mary?  who doesn't love a 3 year old girl with tiny white lights twinkling in her bright eyes and some jingle bells in her every step?   christmas has become a magical word in our house.  all we need to say is "it's for christmas bella," and she's right there with us.  christmas.  christmas.  christmas. i love how the word rolls off her newly english speaking tongue.  she is pure delight in this season of celebration.  

a few weeks ago, when our neighbors began to hang lights from their eaves and wreaths on their doors, bella began to take note.  we live far back in our neighborhood and she believes every trip in and every trip out is a time to leisurely enjoy the festive house happenings.   we'll begin driving, and immediately i hear from my back seat, "i wanna see christmas mommy."  and so we drive slowly (well... as slowly as i possibly can since i seem to usually be running late).  and we drive carefully.  and we drive looking at and remarking on every wreath, bow, bough, swag and holiday display.  we look at the lights and we take in the trees and it seems to my little girl, brand new each and every time.  and i wish i could just bottle what she's selling me from the backseat, because the wonder of it all is that good.  it is that sweet.  it is that christmas.  wouldn't life be kinder if everyone had the enthusiasm of a 3 year old come christmas time.

but even her sweet exuberance can sometimes cross the line.  "more christmas, mommy!" she'll demand if we hit a stretch of humbug houses.  "i want more christmas mommy!" she's much too short to stomp her foot from her car seat perch, but she would if she could.  it was cute at first,  but when she is in need of a nap, or i am in need of a nap, or it is the 12th trip in or out of the neighborhood (no exaggeration here), she becomes a little querulous and i become a little irritated.   the sweetness is gone and the selfishness steps in. and i get it.  because i can be kind of like that too.  "give me more! more. more. more."

more christmas.  it seems to me the very holiday has exploded in recent years--everything from the shopping to the showcasing.  all of it bigger and brighter each year.  i have to wonder where we're headed with it all.  don't get me wrong, i LOVE christmas. in fact, i ADORE christmas.  but it has gotten a little, umm...complicated, in some ways.  do you know what i mean?  maybe it is just that my kids are getting older.  maybe it is that they are getting more expensive.  maybe it is just that life in general is a little more complicated then when they were all in footed pajamas with a bedtime of 8pm.   i guess being a family of seven, spanning from preschool to high school, has something to do with it.  but it just seems to me that christmas shouldn't be like that.  it shouldn't be complicated, but simple and easy.

it is almost impossible to ignore the way our culture seems to scream, "i want more christmas!"  i guess the truth is, it screams "give me more!" in general, doesn't it?   like if a little is good, then a lot is better, right?  but no.  that's not always true. i disagree.  sometimes less is more.  but this is hard to explain to children. just like bella demanding  "more"  from my backseat, i have to also hold off my others kids.  connor, age 8, is kind of like a life size elf.  i am not sure i've ever met a kid more excited about christmas. he truly talks about it all year long.  a few years back we dubbed him "captain christmas."  i mean he really is into the entire experience.   i constantly hear from him, "mom, are you going to ___?   mom, are we going to _____?"   (get the tree, see the lights, bake the cookies, make the candy, paint the ornaments, read the story, build the gingerbread houses, wrap the presents, hang the stockings, mail the cards). seriously, the boy keeps me on my toes. and now he has this other little elf in training trailing behind him with two fingers in her mouth -- captain christmas and his chief elf, bella.   connor is one of those who whole heartedly believes more is better.  i think he'll outgrow this - at least i am hopeful.  but right now, i have to literally hide all the decorations i'd rather not use.  if i leave anything, i mean anything, in the storage room, that boy is down there and dragging it out and around the house trying to find a spot for the reindeer with a broken antler or the hot pink santa candle.   he is determined to use every last bell, ball and jingle-jangle.  he gets this appalled look when i tell him, "no honey, i am not going to pull out the collection of 42 snowmen this year."  "WHAT?  but why, mom?" this makes no sense to my son.

rick and i have been married for 21 years and we have collected a good amount of christmas stuff.  stuff which cannot possibly all be used.  plus, the truth is, it shouldn't be.  simple is good.  at least in my book, simple is beautiful.  every year i am tempted to put nothing more on my christmas tree than tiny white lights.  i think it is absolutely lovely that way. some fresh greenery and candles and a little bit of ribbon and our house is all set.  but that's absolutely no fun with the under 10 crowd.

connor is always trying to get me to do more -- he has a host of ideas. i always tell him, "honey, i can't wait to see what you do someday with your own house.  i promise to visit at christmas time."  (i am thinking along the lines of clark griswold in christmas vacation here). only last week, we were in wal-mart picking up supplies and hot chocolate for a party we were hosting, when he came sprinting toward me -- breathless and wild-eyed.  "look mom, look!  it's that antler and rudolph nose set that easily attaches to the car that i've been telling you about and look mom, it is only $9.97, only nine-dollars-and-ninety-seven-cents!  (big breath)... can we get it, can we? can we? can we get it mom?"  i wasn't sure what to say.  i was still trying to calculate how much hot chocolate was needed for the party.  i was lost in my own "more"...and had little mental room for his.  honestly, i just sort of stood there for a minute and stared at my cart full of party supplies.  he was like something unleashed and unmedicated and before it was all done, bella was also jumping up and down chanting, "can we? can we? can we?"  i am certain she had no idea what she was even asking for, but it was right along the lines of "mommy i want more christmas!" and so on board she came.  captain christmas and the littlest elf and their mama frozen for a long, kind of crazy, moment in wal-mart.  classic.  i told him to give me a minute to think about it.  i almost said pray, and i probably should have prayed.  but instead i just paused,  closed my eyes, clutched the cart and focused on breathing deeply.  what would it hurt? clearly my son's christmas would be now be perfect if we attached a large red nose and two flimsy looking antlers to my black yukon.  we could drive proudly around johns creek georgia, the envy of everyone.  we would be a true christmas-loving, joy-bringing, o-come-all-ye-faithful-family.  maybe then we could reclaim the christmas spirit and recapture the holiday hoopla and all for only $9.97.  "okay, we'll get it." i agreed. it was a christmas steal, we almost had to.  everything, even christmas,  depended on this purchase--or so it seemed while standing in the mind-numbing hum of wal-mart.  connor looked downright shocked at my answer. this wasn't like me.  he hadn't expected it. but then the biggest grin caught up with his face and it spread and it spread.   i watched him bend down to bella, "she said yes!" he whispered triumphantly, and we headed to the check out.

now i have to tell you, the looks on my older three children's faces when i picked them all up in afternoon carpool were the best part of that $9.97.   i know they were thinking, what in the world has mom done.  this isn't like her.  she's throwing a party this weekend and she's already beginning to crack.  each one of them came to the car and peered inside, unsure of what they'd find.  i joked about donning santa hats and rolling down the windows with christmas tunes playing full blast...the older ones all laughed rather nervously ... connor and bella said, "sure!"  but i also have to tell you, we enjoyed our decked out car for about 4 hours before we lost one of those reindeer antlers.  that evening, while rick was running some errands with the kids in my yukon, littlest elf girl decided to play with her automatic window and somewhere while flying down old milton parkway in the chaos of five kids and christmas carols blaring, an antler flew off the car,  probably to join the other lone antlers roadside from families just like ours trying to get "more christmas!"
                   
and so they come home and tell me the story and all i can think is, of course it did.  because the things which we add, just do that.  antlers fly off cars and ceramic santas get broken.  christmas trees crash over and cookies sometimes burn.  presents aren't perfect and loved ones disappoint us.  and more is just never enough.   if anyone should ever have been allowed to demand more, it should have been Jesus.  Jesus, King of creation.  Jesus, Prince of Peace.  Jesus born in a simple stable, to a simple girl.  Jesus the son of a simple carpenter.  Jesus wrapped in simple, swaddling clothes.  Jesus laid in a simple manger.  and there's no mistake in this manger...but there is a message. and it's simple.

"...she wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger..."   ~ luke 2: 7

“I come that you may have life, 
and have it MORE abundantly.” ~  john 10:10

let us behold Him

sometimes, come christmas,  i feel like a woman on a fence, precariously straddling the december divide which separates the santa and the sacred--the holiday from the holy.  one foot in the Christ Child camp and another over in line with the department store kris kringle.  of course, i fully embrace that what we celebrate december 25th is the birthday of a king.  My King, in fact.  i don't hesitate one minute on this, BUT i can't deny that it takes some work to keep the focus. it takes some determination to remember the Messiah in the midst of so much merry. we sometimes have to make the decision to hold less, so that we can behold Him more.  and as the mother of this home, i feel somewhat responsible.  i feel kind of in charge of the sugar plum dreams which dance in the heads of my sleepy children.  i feel a little accountable for the wishes and wants and great wonder of it all. 

i will admit, i have spent some christmases overwhelmed with trying to point my family (and myself) to the true reason for the season.   but i am competing with toy catalogs and a continually jolly man who is able to land 8 tiny reindeer on a steep and slanted rooftop. my children have witnessed me struggle with the not so magical act of pulling my suv into a crowded mall parking space.  and, without doubt, i am nowhere close to continually jolly.  i typically welcome a little competition, but this battle was something for which i wasn't fully prepared.  i thought it would be easy to blend it all together. easy to hold close the christmas stuff, while beholding the Christ.  in fact, i thought that was what we were doing with some success.  that was until the 4th born, years ago, explained to me that he thought we were celebrating santa's birthday. what?  gasp! where had we gone wrong? terribly, terribly wrong.  


after my initial shock, my next thought was hoping no one else had overheard his irreverent and  horribly misguided statement.          i couldn't believe we had somehow failed our son, failed to hammer in the fact that christmas was about the birthday of JESUS.  not santa.  JESUS.  baby Jesus. baby in the manger, Jesus.  no crib for a bed, Jesus. glory to the newborn king, Jesus. what child is this? Jesus.  i mean, with five kids, we certainly do miss our share of details. it is possible some things get lost in translation-- lost in the chaos. but this was a biggie. hadn't he heard us singing christmas carols?  hadn't he noticed the nativity scene set up on the coffee table?  hadn't he, at the very least, been paying attention in sunday school?  that was the year we started the tradition of baking a birthday cake on christmas eve.  we haven't missed a year since. (i don't dare).  and each year i CLEARLY write, happy birthday JESUS.  


a couple years later, this same 4th born boy, had a few more questions for me.   he was great with the birthday cake thing and had no problem switching out santa for Jesus in his mental christmas pageant.  BUT, there was something else bothering my boy -- something else he needed to unload on his frazzled-doing-the-best-she-could mother.  "if it is Jesus' birthday, why aren't we giving Him gifts? why are we the ones getting them," he asked.  i could tell he wanted to say more, like, "by the way, it's totally cool with me if we have to be the ones getting presents.  i'm good with that plan.  i don't mind stepping in for Jesus and helping Him out a little."  he didn't add all that...but i knew what my son was thinking.


and honestly, his question was a good one.  what would we add to our lists if we went shopping for our Lord?  could it be something found on the sale rack at macy's or in the long lines at the mall?  i'm thinking no. but what gifts can we possibly bring Him?  the wise men came bearing gold, frankincense and myrrh.  now i don't know about you, but i haven't stumbled upon any frankincense on the shelves of target recently.  i am not exactly sure what frankincense even is. and though it may have been the perfect gift for newborn baby lying in a manger, i am pretty sure it wouldn't be on Jesus' list today. so what does He want? what do you buy a king?

"When the Son of Man comes in his glory, and all the angels with him, he will sit on his glorious throne. ³² All the nations will be gathered before him, and he will separate the people one from another as a shepherd separates the sheep from the goats. ³³ He will put the sheep on his right and the goats on his left.

   ³⁴ “Then the King will say to those on his right, ‘Come, you who are blessed by my Father; take your inheritance, the kingdom prepared for you since the creation of the world. ³⁵ For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶ I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me.’

   ³⁷ “Then the righteous will answer him, ‘Lord, when did we see you hungry and feed you, or thirsty and give you something to drink? ³⁸ When did we see you a stranger and invite you in, or needing clothes and clothe you? ³⁹ When did we see you sick or in prison and go to visit you?’

   ⁴⁰ “The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’  ~ Matthew 25

can you see how that fits?  i am amazed by the beauty of these words.  what does Jesus, our King, want from us?  -- especially in the month of december.  i think he gives us his list in matthew 25.  he wants us to feed the hungry. clothe the cold. visit the lonely. serve the sick.  His message is so clear, "whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me."  this is the Jesus we serve.  this is the newborn King we adore. this is the Christ we behold.  it is easy to love a sweet baby and it's an honor to serve a holy king, but can we love the least?  can we serve the hardened? can we embrace the ugly? can we hold the broken? but this is exactly what Christ has on His christmas wish list.  He isn't asking us to run around and shop till we drop.  He isn't asking us to wrap things up in pretty paper and sparkly ribbon.  He wants our hands and our feet and our hearts, humble, small and dirty as they may be,  to come serving in this season of love.  


oh...this is hard.  hard. hard. hard.  please don't think, for one minute, while reading this, that my family does this well.   we don't even always want to.  i mean, certainly, if we asked our kids at the end of a family devotion what should we do, they would give the good sunday school answer (well, maybe not the 4th born) and say something like, "help others.  do something good for those in need." but then we rush right back to our candy canes and our catalogs and our jingly-jangly kind of christmas-y things.  we rush right back into our dreams of shiny and new and nice. 


each year at christmas, we try to do something for someone in need.  there really is no excuse, is there?  i mean everywhere we look there are opportunities to do for others--at our churches, in our cities, on our very own streets.  it is about opening our eyes...opening our hearts.  it is about listening to the words of that baby Jesus, who grew up to be Holy King, "whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters...you did for me."   


maybe it isn't about what we buy or what we can bring, but about how we behold.  how we behold the King.  ...come, let us behold Him.

O Come All Ye Faithful
Joyful and triumphant,
O come ye, O come ye to Bethlehem.
Come and behold Him,
Born the King of Angels;
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
O come, let us adore Him,
Christ the Lord.

recommended reading:  the king's christmas list.  by eldon johnson

* my post was inspired by this children's book i was reading to the kids a few nights ago.  a perfect christmas read!