It is very late. After the last little sucking motions of his tongue I know. All my efforts to soothe, console, and lull have been met with sweet success.
I carefully lift his little head out of the crook of my arm which is now practically numb. I tuck soft folds of bedding beside his little tummy, Then I tighten my abdomen to lift myself off the mattress without jostling the sleeping infant. I can finally get ready for bed.
After completing my hygiene routine I tread softly back into our bedroom. I quietly slip the covers from Bill’s side of the bed and begin to slither between Bill and our slumbering baby. I am stealthy as I become like the air between the bed linens and my husband’s body. It is not unlike disarming a missile. Or, as Bill artfully describes it, like a hot dog rolling itself into a closed bun. No matter, I am relieved when my gymnastics are over and I am nestled against my husband’s shoulder and our son is still asleep.
I want to celebrate my victory. I want to talk until the wee hours of the morning. I want to listen to guitar instrumentals. I want to kiss a little…or a lot! I raise my head off Bill’s shoulder and look at his gentle peaceful face. The reality hits me like a cold shower.
He is asleep.
Glory
"Then Jesus said, 'Come to Me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.'" Matthew 11:28
Friday, March 31, 2006
Monday, March 27, 2006
Called To Service
Today, I am feeling reckless so I will abandon all dignity and composure and tell you the truth: I like attention. I like to be seen and applauded for whatever I happen to say or do. I am a shameless entertainer and I take extreme pleasure in self-promotion.
So it takes me by surprise when God provides me with opportunities to visibly serve. Why, I think, would God choose such an irrepresible performer like me to serve in a public manner? It would seem that sometimes He lets us shine for Him and this week He has given me plenty of opportunities; some are temporary and others are long-term. But it does make me wonder if there's a catch. Almost immediately I know the answer: of course there is.
It's humility. Like a pane of glass in the sunlight, the reflected image is more visible when the glass is purer and the light is brighter. Likewise humilty is essential for us to disappear and reflect the image of Jesus.
“Let nothing be done through selfish ambition or conceit, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself. Let each of you look out not only for his own interests, but also for the interests of others. Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus . . .” (Philippians 2:3-5).
Glory
So it takes me by surprise when God provides me with opportunities to visibly serve. Why, I think, would God choose such an irrepresible performer like me to serve in a public manner? It would seem that sometimes He lets us shine for Him and this week He has given me plenty of opportunities; some are temporary and others are long-term. But it does make me wonder if there's a catch. Almost immediately I know the answer: of course there is.
It's humility. Like a pane of glass in the sunlight, the reflected image is more visible when the glass is purer and the light is brighter. Likewise humilty is essential for us to disappear and reflect the image of Jesus.
“Let nothing be done through selfish ambition or conceit, but in lowliness of mind let each esteem others better than himself. Let each of you look out not only for his own interests, but also for the interests of others. Let this mind be in you which was also in Christ Jesus . . .” (Philippians 2:3-5).
Glory
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Waiting For Him
This morning I was blessed with Bill's lingering presence as he didn't have to leave our house until later than usual. We shared banana bread, coffee, and devotions before he finally pried himself away from my pleas of, "Come home early..."
It isn't always like this, though. Most mornings our home is much quieter when he leaves for work. Most mornings are like this...
He doesn't wake me when he gets up to have his shower. I am still asleep. He dresses for work noiselessly while I dream my last dreams. I don't hear him leave our room to get coffee and grab a little breakfast. I only hear him when his hand touches the doorknob to our bedroom door.
He comes back into our room and wakes me gently. He says, "I have to go to work, Honey." Sleepily I kiss him before he leaves. Then I listen. I listen to his footsteps through the house. I listen to the door open and close. I listen to the engine start. I listen to him drive away.
Then it begins. I tend to the house. I care for our baby. I get breakfast for our toddler. I get our oldest daughter started on homeschooling. I get the bed made. I call him to ask him what he’s doing. I straighten up the dining area. I make lunch for our kids.
I do some laundry. I call a friend or two. I keep our baby happy. I hug our toddler before she takes a nap. I visit with our oldest. I call him to ask what he'd like for dinner. I clean the living room. I play some music.
I am busy. Not so much with tasks, chores, and projects. My mind is busy with memories of being with him. I am thinking about him throughout all I do. My heart is busy with emotion, passion, and longing. Because the truth of the matter is, I am not really busy doing anything. I am a homemaker only secondary to what I am truly occupied with. When he comes home from work and asks me what I have done all day, I must tell him the truth. Nothing else has demanded my attention as much as this. I was waiting for him.
As a believer of Jesus, no matter what else I do with my days, I'm waiting for Him, too.
Glory
It isn't always like this, though. Most mornings our home is much quieter when he leaves for work. Most mornings are like this...
He doesn't wake me when he gets up to have his shower. I am still asleep. He dresses for work noiselessly while I dream my last dreams. I don't hear him leave our room to get coffee and grab a little breakfast. I only hear him when his hand touches the doorknob to our bedroom door.
He comes back into our room and wakes me gently. He says, "I have to go to work, Honey." Sleepily I kiss him before he leaves. Then I listen. I listen to his footsteps through the house. I listen to the door open and close. I listen to the engine start. I listen to him drive away.
Then it begins. I tend to the house. I care for our baby. I get breakfast for our toddler. I get our oldest daughter started on homeschooling. I get the bed made. I call him to ask him what he’s doing. I straighten up the dining area. I make lunch for our kids.
I do some laundry. I call a friend or two. I keep our baby happy. I hug our toddler before she takes a nap. I visit with our oldest. I call him to ask what he'd like for dinner. I clean the living room. I play some music.
I am busy. Not so much with tasks, chores, and projects. My mind is busy with memories of being with him. I am thinking about him throughout all I do. My heart is busy with emotion, passion, and longing. Because the truth of the matter is, I am not really busy doing anything. I am a homemaker only secondary to what I am truly occupied with. When he comes home from work and asks me what I have done all day, I must tell him the truth. Nothing else has demanded my attention as much as this. I was waiting for him.
As a believer of Jesus, no matter what else I do with my days, I'm waiting for Him, too.
Glory
Friday, March 10, 2006
Homecoming
As expected, when I arrived in Seattle the first face I saw was Elizabeth's and she lit up like 4th of July fireworks when I smiled and opened my arm - the one not holding Ulie - and hugged her close to me. I heard Bill call out, "Come back, Murmur!" then I saw her bouncing toward him and I saw her smile at me. I stooped down to squeeze her a little before she wiggled out of my grasp. When I saw Bill I felt a warm rush like the aroma of banana nut bread coming out of the oven.
I was home.
I think I could live anywhere on earth with my husband and children and, foreign or not, I would be home.
We talked as we waited for my baggage to make its appearance on the carousel then Bill handed me a vente coffee from Starbucks. I couldn't take my eyes off him, it felt so nice to see his smile and hear his laugh again. How perfectly sweet and comforting.
I'm sure this is almost exactly what getting to Heaven is going to be like.
Glory
I was home.
I think I could live anywhere on earth with my husband and children and, foreign or not, I would be home.
We talked as we waited for my baggage to make its appearance on the carousel then Bill handed me a vente coffee from Starbucks. I couldn't take my eyes off him, it felt so nice to see his smile and hear his laugh again. How perfectly sweet and comforting.
I'm sure this is almost exactly what getting to Heaven is going to be like.
Glory
Saturday, March 04, 2006
Alone...
For the past week I have been solo parenting while Glory has been seeing family. Now, I think I do this pretty well: the house always is clean, the dishes always are done and there isn't laundry to do. I am sure that if it were necessary I could garner many awards at being house husband.
But the other day when I was checking in with Glory she remarked: "So the house is clean but it's lonely..."
Yep. That is true. Lonely it is.
Oh sure, I have had fun with the kids. We've made paper airplanes. We played Bear Bowling (We stood markers on their ends on the squares of our tile floor and then bowled them over with stuffed bears -- or launched them into the markers from across the living room. Way cool!) And we cooked different meals together.
But we've done it alone. And that stinks.
Good thing that our days of flying solo are over. And when we do have to go it alone for a while, we can take some comfort in knowing that it doesn't last long.
Just one more day!
Bill
But the other day when I was checking in with Glory she remarked: "So the house is clean but it's lonely..."
Yep. That is true. Lonely it is.
Oh sure, I have had fun with the kids. We've made paper airplanes. We played Bear Bowling (We stood markers on their ends on the squares of our tile floor and then bowled them over with stuffed bears -- or launched them into the markers from across the living room. Way cool!) And we cooked different meals together.
But we've done it alone. And that stinks.
Good thing that our days of flying solo are over. And when we do have to go it alone for a while, we can take some comfort in knowing that it doesn't last long.
Just one more day!
Bill
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