Cling to What is Good...

 There was quite a drama playing out over the past two weeks with the middle child in the Berad family.  You would have thought there was a much more serious situation at hand than just a loose tooth, and NEVER would I have imagined this drama playing out for as long as it did.  Over this two week period, my daughter grew more and more afraid to eat any foods that required serious chewing, she grew more and more anxious about the tooth actually falling out.  For most of these mornings she would actually wake up and be physically sick to her stomach all from the feeling of the loose tooth in her mouth.  She'd frequently have a tissue in her mouth, pinched on either side of the tooth to try to keep it upright and catch any blood.  By the end of two weeks, she kept trying to straighten the tooth (it was hanging forward at this point) and would keep saying, "See, I fixed it!"  Clearly not!  I tried to explain that there was no possible way she could keep this tooth from falling out of her mouth.  But, oh the relief, the burden lifted the night the tooth finally fell out.  She was able to eat again, she was acting normally, she wasn't getting sick in the morning any more.

As I was thinking about all of this, I began to make some connections in my mind...of the things we ALL hold on to that are not doing us any good.  How often do we cling to things that hurt us, rather than things that are good for us?  How many burdens do we shoulder on our own, when we have Someone Who has offered to carry them for us?

Matthew 11:28-30 (NLT) says, "Then Jesus said, “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”

How often do I literally sicken myself...with worry and anxiety, with fatigue, with fear, with misjudgment...and try to carry these backbreaking burdens on my own, thinking I can handle them.  My ego can be so headstrong and so foolish.  I am not a quick learner.  I look ridiculous, hanging on to these things which are clearly hurting me, but that I think I need so badly.  But God is reminding me all the while...."Release this to Me.  Let Me carry this for you.  All you need is Me."

How many times will I have to learn and re-learn this lesson for it to fully stick?  God is my strength and my all-in-all...  God is the constant my soul longs for, the never-changing, always present Help in times of trouble.  No matter how tightly I grasp on to material possessions, to relationships, to my sense of control...I will not have any greater success with these than my daughter Sienna had in willing her loose tooth to stay in her mouth.  Our ever-changing lives beg for a constant to grab hold of.  Our souls long for rest in this weary world we live in.  Cling to what is Good...what will last...the Rock Eternal, our ever-faithful Friend.

Too Much of a Good Thing...

Oh that I could be a more narrow-minded person! 

I'll bet you weren't expecting me to say that...but let me clarify!

An image of walking behind my daughter Sienna comes to mind.  We were out for a walk in the neighborhood this summer and she insisted on pushing the stroller.  Again and again she veered off of the sidewalk into the grass.
"Look, a bunny!"
"What are those kids doing over there?"
"Look at that pretty flower!"

She could not keep her mind focused on the task at hand, of successfully pushing the stroller down the center of the sidewalk.  She kept getting distracted by all of the sights and sounds along the way. 

She was taking her eyes off her destination and placing her focus on other, less important things - (all at the expense of baby Eva's comfort and safety too!)

After so many "infractions" of almost crashing Eva into several mailboxes and running her stroller into the bumpy grass, I finally took control again.

This reminded me too of another story.  One day last month the girls and I, along with some friends, visited a famous shave ice stand in Pittsburgh.  I offered to get each of them a small ice and their faces lit up when they saw all the flavors to choose from.  All four of them, without hesitation, asked for EVERY flavor.  And do you know what???  Not a single one of them fully finished their ice.  It turned out that every flavor was just too much.  The sensory overload of ten different flavored syrups was not at all pleasing to the tongue, and was much too strong to enjoy.

Is such a dazzling array of choices really always a good thing - or is it better if I am more singularly focused?  Am I keeping in mind, steadfastly, my destination?  Am I easily distracted...taking  my eyes off the road to look right and left...then finding myself in trouble?  Am I narrowing in my concentration on the ONE thing that truly matters and the ONE Who will satisfy me beyond all measure?

Deuteronomy 6:5-9 

5 Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your 

soul and with all your strength. 

6 These commandments that I give you today are to be on your hearts.

 7 Impress them on your children. Talk about them when you sit at home 

and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. 

8 Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. 

9 Write them on the door frames of your houses and on your gates."

Full...but Empty...

I stepped out onto the deck the other day to find Lawson, sitting down with a jar of bubbles and a bubble wand.  His face was a picture of consternation and he was blowing on the little wand harder and harder and harder, his face growing more and more red, but not a single bubble was being produced.  "These bubbles aren't working," he said to me in almost-despair.  I took the wand and dipped it into the bottle and tried to blow him a bubble but had no better results. 


Suddenly, a shiny puddle next to him caught my eye and I asked him, "Did you spill the bubbles and fill this up with water, Lawson?"  "Yes," he meekly replied. 

The jar appeared to be a normal, full jar of bubbles at first glance...but then I realized the contents were not what they seemed...they were in fact, worthless!  Thankfully I saved poor Lawson from more frustration and directed him to a large tray of bubble solution with a bubble wand, which he loved!

Is your life filled with activities and a never-ending to-do list, and yet you feel very empty?  Does it feel like something is missing?  Something much deeper...like you are going through all the motions but lacking true meaning and depth and purpose? 

Sienna and I enjoyed watching a large swallowtail butterfly flit around the yard today, visiting flower after flower.  She crept closer and closer and finally told me, "I think I can touch it."  And she did!  She was so excited when the butterfly let her hold it for just a few seconds.  I think often about these little glimpses of beauty...the complexity of nature and the delicate balance of the world we live in.  So much of this passes our notice day after day because we focus so much of our attention on "more important things." 

Are you full...but Empty?  Are you going through the motions each day but coming up short?  I hope you might take notice of all the ways God has demonstrated His love and care for you.  I pray you let Him into your life, filling you to overflowing. 

I Made My Bed...

"Have you seen my room, Mama?  Come and see it!" 

This was the third time Sienna was urging me to come see her room and I finally stopped folding laundry to oblige her.  As I rounded the corner, my initial reaction was shock.  Literally every toy in her room appeared to be dumped out on the floor and both the girls' beds. 

"Um, Sienna....what am I looking at?  It looks like a huge mess in here."

"I made my bed!"

Sure enough, under more of the sprawl of toys and beanie babies, her bed was neatly made.  I struggled to find a complement...still reeling from the mess and calculating how long it would take to get the room back together again. 

"Well, nice job, Sienna..."  I trailed off...it was hard to think of much more to say than that. 



As I returned to my chore, I had to chuckle to myself.  So often my kids are coming to me, seeking approval for something when in the process they've made a bigger mess of things.  Eva likes to "help" me with putting laundry in the dryer, which means most of the clean clothes end up on the floor.  Lawson likes to "help" peel carrots, which means he is soaking wet and there are carrot peels all over the counter and floor.

Why do I let them do this...and why do I still affirm their efforts?  Because they need to learn...

My children teach me yet another lesson about my relationship with God in these daily interactions.  In these instances, I see myself, trying so hard to work out my faith.  God in His mercy and grace allows me the freedom to do things, make decisions on my own, and to make mistakes.  I remember the added frustration of having to clean up all these messes...of thinking to myself, "I could have done this job so much better and more quickly on my own."  And it hits me...God extends this same gift to me.  He allows me to learn by trying and trying again.  He affirms me, cheers me on, still loves me in spite of all my messes.  "But God, I made my bed!"  Even though the rest of my life is a hot hot mess...and He acknowledges me and urges me to keep pressing on...

Towers that fall...

Evangeline threw a fit the other morning when I caught her trying to dig some lollipops out of the pantry at breakfast time.  In her non-verbal blabber, I could very clearly understand that the reason for her great dismay was my inability to comprehend how such a delicious treat could not be suitable for her first meal of the day.

Sienna grew more and more frustrated one night last week as she was building block towers for the younger kids to demolish.  She wanted them to knock them down, but just not before she had completed the tower.  Inevitably though, in his excitement, Lawson always knocked the tower town after only  a few blocks had been stacked, and Sienna was very upset by this repeated misdemeanor.

We crave things to be a certain way but often that isn't the way they go.  Sometimes what we want isn't the best thing for us, or is even harmful.  Towers fall, expectations aren't met...and we are left with a choice to make at the end of each day....

I'm finding that life isn't meant to be lived according to my standards or agenda...but does that cause me to doubt?  It pushes me to think in a new direction, pushes me to consider that my understanding is so meager compared with that of an omnipotent God.

Rather than growing bitter and disillusioned by life and its twists and turns, I turn to my loving God and surrender my emotions to Him.  Rather than questioning the things I don't understand and allowing them to steal my joy, I rejoice in all the blessings I still have.

I've worked so hard to construct what I think is a good and stable life only to have it knocked out from under me...again...and again...and again.  And only by the grace of God am I able to take a step back, from the disappointment, the pain, and the sorrow, take a deep breath, and start building again.

This is not some mindless game God is playing with me.  This is the way life is meant to be lived.  We aren't promised perfection here on earth, but we are promised to be loved unconditionally.  My towers may fall but thankfully, my foundation is secure.

In His kindness God called you to share in His eternal glory by means of Christ Jesus.  So after you have suffered a little while, He will restore, support, and strengthen you, and He will place you on a firm foundation.

1 Peter 5:10 (NLT)

Rose Colored...

"I love my new goggles, Mama.  They make everything look pink.  I NEVER want to take them off!"

My kids all got new goggles while we were on vacation this week.  True to her usual form, Sienna chose all pink goggles with pink lenses.  She was so pleased with her purchase I think she would truly have worn them all day.

Oh that all of life could be lived looking through rose-colored glasses. 

Much the same as going away for a week of vacation, we long for an escape from the stark realities of life.  To be quite honest, a week of "vacation" with 5 kids is hardly an escape from everyday life.  I've had almost no voice left by the end of the day for the past 3 days from having to yell at the kids so much, parts of my body ache that have never ached before, and the baby has taken a total of 1 nap in her crib all week...it is truly exhausting!  But still, it is a wonderful escape from the normal routine, a chance to enjoy

the beauty of a new place and to spend a LOT of quality time together as a family.













As our time away comes to an end, I must prepare myself to face reality once more.  Reality isn't always a bad thing...as "pretty" as I want things to be...God wants me to dive deeper, to put myself outside of my comfort zone, to trust Him and not be directed by my fears, or my desires for things to "look" a certain way.



Standing on the beach last night with the kids, there was the most amazing color in the sky.  It was sunset...a rosy haze was cast over everything...it was an idyllic sort of beauty.  In the midst of this, as I was trying to snap some photos, the kids were fighting, pouting, running in every direction except the way I wanted them to go.  It was a reminder to me, in that moment, of how I often desire life to be easy and straightforward and "perfect"...but the realities are often so very different.  At the same time though, God has prepared me for this, warned of it, and offered me help.  He never promised me a life that was rose-colored but what He did promise was a reality of His constant protection and guidance and love and grace.  He promised to be there with me every step of the way.  He promised to love me with an everlasting love.  As harsh as reality can often be, I'm glad that I don't have to face it alone.




2 Corinthians 8:9 (AMPC)  

 For you are becoming progressively acquainted with and recognizing more strongly and clearly the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ (His kindness, His gracious generosity, His undeserved favor and spiritual blessing), [in] that though He was [so very] rich, yet for your sakes He became [so very] poor, in order that by His poverty you might become enriched (abundantly supplied).

On Being Carried...

"Can't we go up the big hill....can't we PLEEAAASSSEEE go up the big hill?"  

...says the loquacious 4-year-old who is pedaling on the bike attached behind me.  "Well...I guess we can try," I say.  Her bike does have pedals, but primarily I'm pulling her along for the entire ride.  It's a humid 87 degrees out today and she wants to go up the biggest hill in the neighborhood....a steep 1/4 mile incline that gets the heart pounding even at a slow walk.

I look up it, gritting my teeth and just hoping I can propel the bike forward fast enough that we don't just stop and tip over!  Up we go at a haltingly slow pace...but finally we are at the top.  We make the turn and race down the hill again, the wind now refreshingly rushing by as we cruise down without having to pedal once.

"Aren't you glad I came with you so I could help you pedal?"  she asks me.  Oh, Sienna...if you only knew.  If you only realized that your meager pedaling efforts do virtually nothing to push us up the hill.  If only you understood that having your bike attached to the back of mine does nothing but slow me down and make the bike ride so much more of an exertion for me.

As we began our initial ascent, I was thinking about how God carries me.  I often think...in my limited human understanding, that I've to the wit...the know-how, the strength to do things on my own.  Or I have the audacity to think I can "help" God....when really I'm just tagging along for the ride, slowing Him down most of the time with my dead weight.

His mercies truly never cease to amaze me...that He'd even give me the opportunity to try...that He'd have the patience to let me mess things up...over and over again.  We make it to the crest of one great obstacle and together coast down on the other side and so quickly...just like that, I'm ready to take on the world again on my own, thinking I don't need Him.

Might I use this experience today as a reminder...a reminder not to take for granted the help He offers me, day in and day out.  The way He carries me...my burdens...and forgives my mistakes along the way.  And when I reach that great mountaintop...might I nestle into His embrace...recognizing that in order to truly find my life, I must first lose it...

The wind in my face...

 Carter has been absolutely begging me to feed the baby every single day lately...so this morning he finally got his chance.  He does love his little sister...when she's not screaming her head off.  The one remedy for that is to carry her around all day.  She loves to sleep for several hours a day in her backpack, riding on my chest.  I think I'm going to need a major chiropractic adjustment in the near future!

I took Carter, Reese & Sienna for a bike ride on Sunday since it was such a nice, unseasonably warm day.  Our neighbors gave us a bike attachment that hooks to the back of my bike and Sienna can ride on it and even pedal.  She loves us...but in her typical Sienna fashion, is a total "backseat driver."  She was not satisfied with our speed at one point when I was turning around in a cul-de-sac and said, "Mama, you aren't going fast enough.  Why don't I feel the wind on my face?"  This was followed shortly after by "Mama, why do you have a big, fat butt?"  I'd imagine this is somewhat akin to the way contestants feel on the Biggest Loser when a trainer is riding them to workout harder!?  Nothing like a 4-year old making you feel lousy about yourself just 7 weeks after having a baby, nonetheless!

I was in the laundry room yesterday, holding the screaming baby while I tried to throw the wet laundry into the dryer.  Lawson came in and put his face right up to hers and said, "You little bugger." in a gruff voice....

We were eating edamame for dinner last night and Carter paused from eating his to say, "This should really be called edible-mame.  That describes it better."  Well-said, Carter, well said...

When I sit and when I rise...

Never in my life did the words "captive audience" have such meaning.  Now that I am glued to a chair for hours every day nursing a newborn baby, I've become an active target for Sienna's shenanigans and am at the full mercy of her constant gabbing.  She knows all too well when I sit to nurse Evangeline that I'm going to be at her full disposal for at least a good 15-20 minutes and she does not miss an opportunity to take full advantage of this.  I spent this morning being accosted by my garrulous 4-year-old wielding a volume of "A Complete Guide to the Butterflies of North America."  Page after page of the 400+ page book she turned and asked me "Read it Mama!  READ it!  What kind of butterfly is this?  Tell me the name of this butterfly."  Even after I'd finished feeding the baby and was moving about the house again, she brought the book, which is a convenient pocket sized edition, (i.e. lightweight and easy to carry around) and followed me wherever I went... "What's this butterfly?  Tell me what this one is called."

But Sienna isn't the only one keeping me on my toes lately.  Dear Lawson had a healthy pre-dinner-dinner of jelly beans, pretzel dough and a whole plate full of strawberries I had cut up for everyone.  He wanted to help make the pretzels and following in the footsteps of his big sisters, put on Reese's hat and apron.  It's pretty hard to get upset with someone who is this adorable, even if he was trying to add the flour to the bowl handful by handful, and then eating the dough after it was made.

Derrick got a call from work tonight and after hanging up, the kids wanted to know who it was.  He told them the person's name was Doug.  Sienna piped right up with, "Is his name Doug because he digs a lot?"

 There really is never a dull moment in the house these days.  And with a newborn, day fades to night and night brightens back into day, often with very little chance for rest.  This morning, when I awoke with the baby at 4 and again at 6, a Psalm I'd read the night before was running through my mind.  "Oh Lord, you have searched me and you know me.  You know when I sit and when I rise..."  It brought comfort and peace and a sense of purpose to my day just knowing that God Knows...He knows even the most seemingly insignificant details of my day...when I sit and when I rise.  Who am I...what have I done to deserve the Creator's care and concern for even such small parts of my day?

The Green Ribbon...

There is a time for everything...a season for everything under the sun...

I glanced out the window with great dismay as Sienna marched into the room.  Yes, there was still snow on the ground and a blustery wind blowing.  She assuredly put on her sandals and said, "I'm ready."  "Oh, Sienna...you can't wear that today.  It's freezing cold out!"  She looked down at her pretty pink leotard, but was not ready to concede this fight.  After much coaxing, coercing and threats of losing dessert for a day/week/the rest of her life, I got her to put some pants and a jacket on.  We made our way out to the car...at this point I'd managed to get her to move a whole 15 feet in the right direction in the last 15 minutes.  But it couldn't be that easy.  "I don't want to ride in that car seat!!!!"  Oh for goodness sake, is this really something worth fighting over???  There is a time to laugh and a time to cry...and right about now I feel more like crying!  Isn't the motivation of a fun gymnastics class enough to motivate her?

"But today is the day you will get your ribbon at the end of class, Sienna."

Pause...she thinks this over...

"But I wanted a pink ribbon, not a green one.  I don't want that ribbon!"  (She had found out ahead of time the color of this session's ribbon since Reese already received hers last week.)  "You don't want your special ribbon?"  I asked her incredulously.  "Won't you be sad if you don't get your ribbon?"  With not a second of hesitation, she shot back, "No.  It's not pink!"

Give thanks in ALL circumstances...

How often do we stubbornly stick up our noses at the very things we ought to be thankful for?  How often do we whine and complain and take for granted some of the greatest blessings in our lives?  As millions celebrate Thanksgiving tomorrow and reflect on the things we are thankful for, I'm reminded that there are always...ALWAYS things in my life, many things, to be thankful for. How often do I sound just like my four-year-old in my own reactions to things that happen in my life?  How often am I stubbornly insisting on my way, even when everything points me in another direction?

From my limited, human perspective it is very easy to look at a situation and ask, "Why God?"  "This isn't the way things are supposed to be."  "Can't you fix this/change that/heal this person/make this situation right again?"  I didn't sign up for the "green ribbon"...I don't want it!!

Sienna did end up accepting her ribbon prize at the end of her class.  She stood up, holding it proudly over her head with a big smile on her face.  May we all take a few minutes to dwell on the blessings in our lives.  May we accept, with grace and dignity, the challenges we face.  In whatever season of life you find yourself today, God is there.  In whatever trial or test or deviation from "the plan" you can rest assured that He has a master plan, so much greater than we could ever imagine.

Patience is a virtue...

Our mega-sized late-blooming dahlia!!

Sienna...my "difficult" child...oh how you test me and make me smile, all at the same time.

At lunchtime yesterday I was feeling a bit like a waiter at a snooty restaurant.  My picky "guest" was in a mood and demanding the same as her brother, a ham and cheese quesadilla.  As soon as it was on her plate and she took a bite, she exclaimed, "I don't want this quesadilla...I don't like this ham!"  So I, through somewhat clenched teeth asked if she would like one with plain cheese.  "Yes!"  But after making her a second one, she still would not eat it.  Guess I'm having quesadilla for lunch...

I realized yesterday that Sienna...yes 4 Year Old Sienna...has a serious case of road rage!!  I'm not kidding.  She was in the car with me, driving Reese to gymnastics and there was a lot of traffic.  Almost as soon as she saw the approaching line of cars, she began to sigh.   "Why is there so much traffic?  I hate sitting in traffic.  Why is that car stopped in front of us?  Can't you just run over him?"  Well, maybe if I was driving a monster truck I could have, but I'm guessing my 14 year old Honda wouldn't fare too well in that scenario.  "No, Sienna, we just need to be patient and wait."  "I hate waiting!!!"

After dropping Reese off, we drove over to return some sneakers to Dick's Sporting Goods.  Upon entering we saw a long line of people waiting in line at the checkout.  Sienna did not miss this and immediately said, "I hate waiting in line.  Look at all these people!"  Honestly, I'm not sure what her big hurry was...I guess she had places to go and people to see yesterday??

We survived that ordeal and our next stop was Trader Joes, where, much to her delight, they were already selling chocolate advent calendars.  I bought a few for the kids and we loaded our groceries into the car.  From the backseat I heard that sweet little voice again, "Can I open my chocolate calendar now?"
Sigh....."No Sienna, not until December.  That is a few weeks away still."
"But I want to open it right now!!!"

We picked Reese up from gymnastics and were driving home and I had to stop at a red light.  In piped that little voice from the backseat once more..."Why are we stopped?  Why isn't that car in front of us moving???"
"Well the light is red, Sienna."
"But why doesn't he just go????"
"He can't Sienna, that would be against the law."
"But WHYYYYYY!?!?!"

It's a good thing all my kids aren't this demanding or I might lose my mind.  This week in fact, Carter has been my big helper in the morning, bringing Lawson downstairs when he woke up early two different days, cooking him eggs and giving him fruit and a drink, then taking him back up to brush his teeth.  I guess there's hope...

This is for you!

This is for you...

The discouraged, the weary, the broken-hearted...

This is for you...

The one who is striving for more, but can never quite seem to make it, for the one whose heart is heavy-laden...

This is for you...

When you cross a great milestone, only to wake up the next morning with a feeling of "What's next??"

Feelings of great triumph, followed shortly after by feelings of total defeat.  Promises made but not kept...confidence destroyed...

There is a place I turn for absolute security, total peace, and guaranteed hope.  As much as I find joy in special memories created, in my family, in the beauty of the world around me, there is just one place I can turn to find real and lasting
joy...

This formula seems far too simplistic for the complex world that we live in.

The Joy of the Lord is my Strength.  

This isn't just a statement...it's a promise.  My strength disappears faster than a puff of smoke in the wind.  But the strength I find in the Lord is lasting and endures even the most intense opposition.

Birthdays and Battle Plans...

We celebrated another birthday here this weekend...Sienna is now 4 years old and it's really hard for me to believe.  Four years of chaos...OH!...I mean pure joy!!! Hehehe  She's been "that child" in our family...the one who knows how to press every one of my buttons from the minute she wakes up in the morning...the one who pouts even on her birthday.  But I figure she's taught me a lot of lessons about patience and consistency and keeping my cool under pressure.  It hasn't been easy with Sienna, but it's hard to imagine our lives without her!  Besides, isn't the child who tests boundaries, breaks rules, and defies what his or her parents tell them a perfect picture of how we often behave as adults too?


I've always had this thought in my mind...I could never run a marathon.  I admire and respect the people I know who have run one...or many.  It's just not something I feel my body could handle...that my schedule could permit...or that I'd even want to do.  Running a marathon sounds so unattainable to me...like something in my wildest dreams.

Making it to this point in my life journey has taught me something...I really am a marathon runner...of sorts.  No, not of the actual footrace sort...but I'm in a race of perseverance and physical testing, plodding along at a pace that seems oh so slow at times, but I'm slowly and steadily making progress toward that promised finish line...

Gumballs...who knew that'd be her fav gift!?

The kids are memorizing Isaiah 40:29-31 this year...I often don't even reflect on the words as we recite it together, but this week I began to really think about what it means to "run and not grow weary" and "walk and not be faint."


I also read a beautiful Psalm last night...Psalm 71.  Verse 14 caught my eye.  "As for me, I will always have hope; I will praise You more and more."  That's the kind of runner I want to be...that's the kind of persistence and drive and motivation I want to have as I battle my way through the good and bad days of this life-long journey.  Sometimes I have to remind myself to cling to Hope with a tenacious and unrelenting grip...hanging on for dear life.  What does it mean to praise God more and more?  I must resist the urge to feel sorry for myself...I must reflect not on the things I don't have, but all the things I do.  I've got to stop dwelling on what-ifs...and meditate daily on the promises of God.

September 11th is a day many of us remember a terrible and horrific National Tragedy...for me too, it is a day that I'm reminded of new beginnings, and having Hope.  It's the day my Sienna Hope was born...a reminder to me always that we can't ever give up on God...