We dropped off Kyle at Camp Lone Star yesterday for his first overnight camp experience. It's just a two-night excursion and a perfect warm-up to camp. It's a huge step for him. It was surreal and so inspiring to think of how far Kyle has come in three years. I've had people surprised when I tell them he's at camp. It makes me proud knowing my guy is at overnight camp with complete strangers, who now of course are his friends! Kyle has been away from us much longer than two nights before but always with family and that's quite different.
Couple things that were amusing to me as we prepped for camp. Saturday I was at Target and made a frantic call home to David asking him to start teaching Kyle to tie his shoelaces! We have a deadline of T-16 and 8 of those hours are sleeping hours! Yep, Kyle learned to tie his laces finally. He's been in Crocs since June and during the year, had velcro until the last month and we didn't bother to teach him just for May. We knew he needed to learn for 2nd grade so camp made us get on the ball! Nothing like a crash course...which leads me to my other amusing story to share.
You'd think as a trained Director of Christian Education, my kids would know every book of the Bible and have memorized key verses by age 4. Well, by age 7, Kyle is now a reader so as I looked at his packing list and saw he needed a Bible felt VERY embarassed that our Bibles range from infant bibles to the Concordia Self Study Bible with all its footnotes, high notes, back notes, key notes, and translations from here to Rome and back. He uses The Jesus Storybook Bible by Sally Lloyd-Jones which is AWESOME BY THE WAY. But in a flash, I panicked that my kid would be the one who coulnd't look up a verse in the Bible. So what did I do? The kid got a crash-course in using the real grown-up Bible. I am kicking myself because why in the world am I embarassed by this? He LOVES the Bible we've been using, which is a paraphrase, and while I've read from the "real" Bible with him, it gets too wordy for a kid his age, not to mention I can barely read it in the dim light of his room at bedtime (think I might need reading glasses). One time he wanted me to read the Noah story from Bible. Do you know how long that took? And don't even get me started on all the begats and begots...Yep, time to head to the Christian bookstore for that cool Adventures Bible for kids age 8-12 (I can even picture the cover). With the shoelacing taught and chapter and verse recognition taught crash-course style, we loaded him up. This poor kid probably thought camp was going to be one long bible verse hunting session with shoelace tying races in the evenings just for fun.
And my final prep took place on the way there. I had described how the bugspray worked which is a powder since I know he doesn't like creams and oily things and is afraid it'll get in his eyes. I asked him if he was excited about camp only to find out he was worried the bugs were going to bite him. I reassured him that he's been around biting bugs his entire life, that camp just had a few more in concentration. Sometimes prepping a kid just is too much stress on them. Next time I'll just hide in the bushes and spray when he's not expecting it. I prepped him for the headlice check next. Thus ensured a litany of questions about what if they forget to check someone? I finally just said that the lice-infested kid would infest his cabin and they'd all get to shave their heads. Yes, I'm a bit dramatic at times. David piped in and said that we couldn't control if they forgot to check a kid so we didn't need to worry about it. I now realize he was quite contemplative during check-in--he was probably trying to make sure each kid's head was inspected.
Our little guy isn't so little anymore now that he's been to camp. I'm incredibly proud of him. I love this kid like crazy and think about how far he's come. It's just nothing short of awesome for us to see him do this all on his own and not even realize I hadn't hugged him goodbye. By the time I realized it, he was already walking with his group to dinner. Proud moment.
And last night I did have a bit of trouble relaxing. I found myself (in my mind of course) looking down at earth and seeing our house in Hutto and then his tiny little 54 lb manself in his little bunkbed in his little cabin in La Grange. He felt very small then and very far away. David reminded me that my sister and brother-in-law were 15 minutes from him. But still, he felt so far away in those moments. I'm sure when I lie down again tonight, I'll picture him again that way. I get to see him tomorrow--I can't wait to hear about his time there. So for us, a two night adventure was probably as much as I could handle this year. Next year, maybe this Mama will be ready for the full week.
Monday, July 30, 2012
Friday, June 29, 2012
Well, hello there old friend, my blog. I've missed you. I miss writing and have needed a place as my writing outlet. And a few nights ago, I had a blog idea and then the same idea occurred again tonight, so I realized God was moving me to blog about it so what else am I to do? Be lazy and tell God I'll pass tonight?
We are raising our third child. We haven't finished raising any children yet. In fact, our oldest is only 7 so we are years away from being 'done.' It'll be years before we can assess if we did an okay job. Our hope is that we at least do our job preparing them for the therapy they will eventually go through because let's be honest, don't we all end up in therapy at some point? You might pay for it in a therapist's office or you might call it happy hour with the girls on fridays, but face it, it's therapy and our shrink might have a Ph.D. or might be the barista at Starbucks. Yep, been there, done that. First time the pest control dude came to our Hutto home in 2007, I knew I was desperate for conversation when I yammered his head off for ten minutes. He narrowly escaped with me trailing behind asking him if he had a wife. You know, so I could be friends with her. Now I figure he thought I was one of those crazy housewives. I digress.
Let's just say I'm no expert on parenting and have hourly moments of ineptitude (yep, I used a big ol' fancy word), I am acutely aware of my need for my heavenly Father to teach me to be a parent. Because I stink miserably at times. And sometimes my parenting has an amazing aroma. But I doubt it's me, but instead the sweet aroma of Jesus when I let him lead me.
I began a prayer a few weeks ago for my children that I had never prayed before. I love it when I find new things to pray. Good grief, as if I have mastered prayer and run out of stuff to say to Jesus? How arrogant of me. But yet, those small moments of genius are really just Holy Spirit genius and me momentarily not being the fool. I found myself instead of praying all those things I want my children to be or do, I asked God to move my children to learn to actively claim Him as Soveriegn Lord over their life. It seems like such a simple prayer. And it is. With that one request, I covered every single desire of my heart. My prayer became a fervent desire for them to follow Him and let Him be Lord. I quit praying for them to be obedient. I stopped praying that they would get along and not fight. I decided not to beg God to give me a peaceful afternoon of no fighting. Of course there is nothing inherently wrong with these requests. But my prayers had become a litany of requests and my God is no rabbit foot to rub. He isn't a talisman to pull out whenever He's the God I need.
It actually was exhausting to enumerate all those things on my heart. Because at the end of the day, it's not between my children, me, and our Maker. It's between Kyle and Jesus. Makenna and Jesus. Me and Jesus. Now obviously David and I play a critical role in our partnership with Jesus as their earthly parents. But when I changed my prayer to focus on their relationship with Jesus, I found no need to list out all my anguished thoughts because there was no need to do so. The peace this one prayer brought me flooded me and I realized by keeping an inventory of all my desires for my children, i was missing the mark terribly on what really mattered--their heart being tied to Jesus. Because when it is, oh my, the things that come from that connection...
Fast forward two weeks later, specifically to four nights ago. It was our first night back from our trip to Mexico and our kids were bouncing off every wall, including Kinsley, our 16 month old. We had been sleep-training off and on with her and knew we were in for a real treat with her, but we didn't expect the drama that has occurred every night at bedtime with her this week. It's beyond separation-anxiety.
This child has been in her own room since birth. This baby girl is too smart and knows there's a party going on after she goes to bed. She knows brother and sister and mom and dad are up. In her mind, we're blissfully rolling around in Chick-fil-a nuggets and waffle fries AND chewing on seat belt straps, her favorite chewing pasttime. I made mention of bedtime and that little bit was mad before I could even ascend the stairs. She puckered out her lips and gripped me. And then the crying began. She was a mad little booger.
I sang. I bounced. We swayed. She swayed. She cried. I wanted to. She cried. I wanted to. I sang. I bounced. sway, bounce, cry, hum, and on and on. The second I'd calm her down, she'd pull back and look at me all over and remember we were in her room and it'd start all over again. You get the idea. I began this blog saying I'm no expert. I can't say I've raised two other kids yet. But I have sleep-trained two other children and while they presented typical challenges, they were a picnic compared to Miss Kinsley. This girl wants nothing to do with her bed when there's a chicken-nugget-waffle fry-strap chewing party going on downstairs! So I pulled out the big guns. I began praying.
It's just one of hundreds of times I've prayed over my children for peace, rest, comfort. I've prayed Psalms over them dozens of times to quiet them. I remember praying Psalm 23 when Makenna was a newborn and watching her body respond to the Word in a way that could only be described as a supernatural response. I honestly thought my voice would soothe her. It didn't. I felt God nudge me to go silent and pray inside so she didn't even hear me. I heard God speak the words from Psalm 8:2, "From the lips of infants and children you have ordained praise." And I began praying a new prayer for my little unhappy baby. I heard Jesus remind me that the Holy Spirit intercedes for us when we do not know what to pray. From Romans 8:2, "In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express." And here's where I got really excited.
It occurred to me that I had done all I could do. I had held, sung, given her teething tablets, and I knew my presence wasn't helping her even. She just wanted to party. And yet she was beyond exhausted. I'm her Mama and I knew she needed sleep. I had sleep-trained two children but by six months old. This was new territory for me. But me holding her wasn't calming her. It was just making her want to nosedive into the chicken-nugget pool we had downstairs. I began praying about her cries and I realized if the Holy Spirit intercedes, why can't He intercede for a crying baby? Who am I to say her cries aren't actually words to Jesus? Okay, now this might sound like some crazy theology but I've never claimed that my understanding of God is completely 'normal.'
I consider myself a conservative but I also love to think outside the box the church can put God in and this was one of those moments. I know a child's cries are their way of saying "I'm tired, I'm exhausted, I'm so overwhelmed..." But they can't say those words. I prayed that the Spirit would intercede on Kinsley's behalf with groans the human heart can not express and would lift her prayers to Jesus on her behalf because He loves her. And I know God keeps his promises. And He has ordained praise on the lips or infants and children. Is that so???? Well, there it is! Jesus, turn that crying into praise and let it be praise to your ears!
This was when I knew I was really getting wacky but the more I realized all of this in a matter of seconds, the cooler and more supernatural it became and wouldn't you know it, I let God be supernatural because well, He is. I think it's at that moment when you think you'r a wee-bit off your rocker in how you and God talk to each other, it's when you are finally tapping into all that God has stored up for you.
I left Kinsley's room continuing this prayer. And wouldn't you know it, the stillness came over her. It would be easy to just pass this off as she got tired and gave up. But that's the Enemy talking. I'm going to give credit where credit is due. We've had a rough week with her but tonight I continued the same prayers for her and ten minutes of crying and that baby girl was asleep in the arms of Jesus who sang over her and quieted her with his love, which he promises in Zephaniah 3:17, "...he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing."
Parenting is the hardest job I've ever had. And it's the one that has brought the most humility into my heart. It's in those moments that are so overwhelming that surrending to God's help and power is all I have left. And that's when I get to learn things that aren't fun to learn, like patience, but I get to rejoice in God's deliverance. I distinctly remember the first time I cried out to God as a new parent. Kyle was just two months old and his 'hurting baby' syndrome (aka colic) was getting to me and I remember crying out "Jesus, save me" in desperation to have patience with my sweet little newborn and the strength not to take his temperament as a slight against me as his Mommy.
I know i need to call out "Jesus, save me" far more often. In fact, before my feet hit the floor each morning, I need to pray this. I love all that Jesus continues to show me through my kids. They make me stir-crazy and have given me too many grey hairs to count. But that's what highlights are for. I have much to be thankful for. **Photo isn't her at night--just snoozing during the day on the couch!
We are raising our third child. We haven't finished raising any children yet. In fact, our oldest is only 7 so we are years away from being 'done.' It'll be years before we can assess if we did an okay job. Our hope is that we at least do our job preparing them for the therapy they will eventually go through because let's be honest, don't we all end up in therapy at some point? You might pay for it in a therapist's office or you might call it happy hour with the girls on fridays, but face it, it's therapy and our shrink might have a Ph.D. or might be the barista at Starbucks. Yep, been there, done that. First time the pest control dude came to our Hutto home in 2007, I knew I was desperate for conversation when I yammered his head off for ten minutes. He narrowly escaped with me trailing behind asking him if he had a wife. You know, so I could be friends with her. Now I figure he thought I was one of those crazy housewives. I digress.
Let's just say I'm no expert on parenting and have hourly moments of ineptitude (yep, I used a big ol' fancy word), I am acutely aware of my need for my heavenly Father to teach me to be a parent. Because I stink miserably at times. And sometimes my parenting has an amazing aroma. But I doubt it's me, but instead the sweet aroma of Jesus when I let him lead me.
I began a prayer a few weeks ago for my children that I had never prayed before. I love it when I find new things to pray. Good grief, as if I have mastered prayer and run out of stuff to say to Jesus? How arrogant of me. But yet, those small moments of genius are really just Holy Spirit genius and me momentarily not being the fool. I found myself instead of praying all those things I want my children to be or do, I asked God to move my children to learn to actively claim Him as Soveriegn Lord over their life. It seems like such a simple prayer. And it is. With that one request, I covered every single desire of my heart. My prayer became a fervent desire for them to follow Him and let Him be Lord. I quit praying for them to be obedient. I stopped praying that they would get along and not fight. I decided not to beg God to give me a peaceful afternoon of no fighting. Of course there is nothing inherently wrong with these requests. But my prayers had become a litany of requests and my God is no rabbit foot to rub. He isn't a talisman to pull out whenever He's the God I need.
It actually was exhausting to enumerate all those things on my heart. Because at the end of the day, it's not between my children, me, and our Maker. It's between Kyle and Jesus. Makenna and Jesus. Me and Jesus. Now obviously David and I play a critical role in our partnership with Jesus as their earthly parents. But when I changed my prayer to focus on their relationship with Jesus, I found no need to list out all my anguished thoughts because there was no need to do so. The peace this one prayer brought me flooded me and I realized by keeping an inventory of all my desires for my children, i was missing the mark terribly on what really mattered--their heart being tied to Jesus. Because when it is, oh my, the things that come from that connection...
Fast forward two weeks later, specifically to four nights ago. It was our first night back from our trip to Mexico and our kids were bouncing off every wall, including Kinsley, our 16 month old. We had been sleep-training off and on with her and knew we were in for a real treat with her, but we didn't expect the drama that has occurred every night at bedtime with her this week. It's beyond separation-anxiety.
This child has been in her own room since birth. This baby girl is too smart and knows there's a party going on after she goes to bed. She knows brother and sister and mom and dad are up. In her mind, we're blissfully rolling around in Chick-fil-a nuggets and waffle fries AND chewing on seat belt straps, her favorite chewing pasttime. I made mention of bedtime and that little bit was mad before I could even ascend the stairs. She puckered out her lips and gripped me. And then the crying began. She was a mad little booger.
I sang. I bounced. We swayed. She swayed. She cried. I wanted to. She cried. I wanted to. I sang. I bounced. sway, bounce, cry, hum, and on and on. The second I'd calm her down, she'd pull back and look at me all over and remember we were in her room and it'd start all over again. You get the idea. I began this blog saying I'm no expert. I can't say I've raised two other kids yet. But I have sleep-trained two other children and while they presented typical challenges, they were a picnic compared to Miss Kinsley. This girl wants nothing to do with her bed when there's a chicken-nugget-waffle fry-strap chewing party going on downstairs! So I pulled out the big guns. I began praying.
It's just one of hundreds of times I've prayed over my children for peace, rest, comfort. I've prayed Psalms over them dozens of times to quiet them. I remember praying Psalm 23 when Makenna was a newborn and watching her body respond to the Word in a way that could only be described as a supernatural response. I honestly thought my voice would soothe her. It didn't. I felt God nudge me to go silent and pray inside so she didn't even hear me. I heard God speak the words from Psalm 8:2, "From the lips of infants and children you have ordained praise." And I began praying a new prayer for my little unhappy baby. I heard Jesus remind me that the Holy Spirit intercedes for us when we do not know what to pray. From Romans 8:2, "In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express." And here's where I got really excited.
It occurred to me that I had done all I could do. I had held, sung, given her teething tablets, and I knew my presence wasn't helping her even. She just wanted to party. And yet she was beyond exhausted. I'm her Mama and I knew she needed sleep. I had sleep-trained two children but by six months old. This was new territory for me. But me holding her wasn't calming her. It was just making her want to nosedive into the chicken-nugget pool we had downstairs. I began praying about her cries and I realized if the Holy Spirit intercedes, why can't He intercede for a crying baby? Who am I to say her cries aren't actually words to Jesus? Okay, now this might sound like some crazy theology but I've never claimed that my understanding of God is completely 'normal.'
I consider myself a conservative but I also love to think outside the box the church can put God in and this was one of those moments. I know a child's cries are their way of saying "I'm tired, I'm exhausted, I'm so overwhelmed..." But they can't say those words. I prayed that the Spirit would intercede on Kinsley's behalf with groans the human heart can not express and would lift her prayers to Jesus on her behalf because He loves her. And I know God keeps his promises. And He has ordained praise on the lips or infants and children. Is that so???? Well, there it is! Jesus, turn that crying into praise and let it be praise to your ears!
This was when I knew I was really getting wacky but the more I realized all of this in a matter of seconds, the cooler and more supernatural it became and wouldn't you know it, I let God be supernatural because well, He is. I think it's at that moment when you think you'r a wee-bit off your rocker in how you and God talk to each other, it's when you are finally tapping into all that God has stored up for you.
I left Kinsley's room continuing this prayer. And wouldn't you know it, the stillness came over her. It would be easy to just pass this off as she got tired and gave up. But that's the Enemy talking. I'm going to give credit where credit is due. We've had a rough week with her but tonight I continued the same prayers for her and ten minutes of crying and that baby girl was asleep in the arms of Jesus who sang over her and quieted her with his love, which he promises in Zephaniah 3:17, "...he will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing."
Parenting is the hardest job I've ever had. And it's the one that has brought the most humility into my heart. It's in those moments that are so overwhelming that surrending to God's help and power is all I have left. And that's when I get to learn things that aren't fun to learn, like patience, but I get to rejoice in God's deliverance. I distinctly remember the first time I cried out to God as a new parent. Kyle was just two months old and his 'hurting baby' syndrome (aka colic) was getting to me and I remember crying out "Jesus, save me" in desperation to have patience with my sweet little newborn and the strength not to take his temperament as a slight against me as his Mommy.
I know i need to call out "Jesus, save me" far more often. In fact, before my feet hit the floor each morning, I need to pray this. I love all that Jesus continues to show me through my kids. They make me stir-crazy and have given me too many grey hairs to count. But that's what highlights are for. I have much to be thankful for. **Photo isn't her at night--just snoozing during the day on the couch!
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