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!