10 million miles

Presenting: 360 degrees of our little chicken! (For the history of this costume, see one of my first blog entries ever.)

It’s amazing what one year’s time will do to change our perceptions of last year’s winter accessories.  When she tried on this pink hat yesterday, Vivienne stroked the furry sides of her head and her chin with awe and said, “I look just like Mary Poppins!” And you have to admit, the similarity is striking…

* Took Vivienne and So-girl to the grocery store where I caved for one of those unwieldy shopping carts with a “car” attached to the front (you know the kind that rumbles from miles away and has no turning radius whatsoever): the girls were as pleased as punch and the shopping trip was actually quite peaceful.

* Waited patiently for the methodical cashier (her first day on the job) and covered for Viv as she “couldn’t hold it any longer!” and tinkled on the floor… and proceeded to strip down immediately. As fashionable as ever, she rolled out of the store in her adorable autumn-purple shirt, the spare pair of red underwear that I found in my bag, bare legs, sneakers, and a bright orange balloon.

* Tried to figure out a way that I could eat more of the trick-or-treat candy that I bought and still make it look like I had a whole bow-full waiting for the darling children (my best idea yet: a smaller bowl!).

* Taught two little girls how to tromp through the leaves and throw handfuls into the air: everyone loves a good leaf-storm

* Sat in a sunny patch of leaves holding two little girls in my arms, singing “For the Beauty of the Earth” and “Doe-a-Deer” (my favorite happening of all)

* Paid a hard-working neighbor to rake our thousands of leaves (my second-favorite happening)

What does the rest of the day hold? Making dinner for our friends, dressing a little chicken, taking lots of pictures, and visiting with our delightful neighbors. I’d say this day is a good way to say good-bye to October.

Q: If I hear my child praying for something that I have the power to deliver, do I deliver?

A: YES! A friend of ours talks about how Christians sit around and pray, assuming that we are not the ones to meet each other’s needs.  Someone needs $100 for a past-due bill; we all bow our heads and pray that God will somehow supply the money.  Couldn’t we all toss in $20 to answer the request right away? Are we afraid that if we meet someone’s need we are somehow dis-empowering God or simplifying their faith? This seems silly, but I’m sure it’s lurked in my subconscious decisions to pray quietly but do nothing.  I’m not fond of this warped thinking.  So, when I heard Vivienne pray, “Dear God, please help mommy to read to me soon,” I pretty much had to say, “Hey, Viv, would you like to read a book?”  I wasn’t taking God’s place, I was simply agreeing that He clearly wanted to grant her simple request.

There are enough times when her requests don’t involve me.  For instance, I still don’t know how to respond when she prays something like, “Dear God, please get my Elmo chair back for me,” knowing that we sold said-Elmo chair at a garage sale last year… This is a request that I don’t have the privilege of being a part of; I can’t run out and buy her a new Elmo chair (for a lot of reasons, but mostly because it’s not what she asked for).  So, this request is all God’s.  I must admit that I wanted to talk her out of this one; I wanted to explain that her Elmo chair is  busy making another child happy and comfy; I wanted her to let God off the hook this time.  But I caught myself and didn’t say a word.  Who am I to talk her out of requests that require more faith than I have? The way I see it, I’d rather raise her to always pray bigger prayers than I can grasp… even if that means welcoming the Elmo chair back into our home.

What is your answer to this quandry?

I removed Vivienne’s first splinter today, which I think earns me a great big flashy “Official MOM” certificate!  Although she cried (it didn’t help that I sat her on the bathroom counter in front of the mirror where she looked at herself and cried even more in appreciation for her own impressive dramatics) and insisted, “I don’t want to have a squinkler!” (For real, that was the word she used.)  I hardly had to scrape the surface of her skin for the little splinter to pop right out.  A piece of candy (for both of us) finished the job and she’s now sleeping soundly, splinter-free.

[Do NOT fall asleep on me just because I posted a picture of George Washington!]

Contrary to popular belief, George Washington was not a deist. After 15 or so years of primary research, Dr. Peter Lillback, author of George Washington’s Sacred Fire, purported last night that America’s Father was indeed a devout Christian. Lillback taught us that Washington maintained an orthodox Christian view of God’s sovereignty, using the word “Providence” over 270 times in his reference to politics, weather, and daily occurrences. His letters and political documents contain over 200 Biblical references from Genesis to Revelation; several of his personal letters weave multiple Scriptures together, revealing a deep knowledge of the Word of God. He also referred to himself as a Christian on multiple occasions. The supporting point that meant the most to me was Washington’s commitment to prayer. Not only did Washington faithfully carry and use a custom-made Common Book of Prayer, but he also wrote over 100 prayers of his own and commenced the political birth of America with a prayer meeting. I don’t know about you, but although I jot some prayers down from time to time, I surely have not crafted and recorded 100 intentional prayers (let alone prayed that many more without writing them down!). I’m deeply moved by Washington’s apparent reliance on our Sovereign God.

In one of his prayer journals, he wrote:

Holy and eternal Lord God who art the King of heaven, and the watchman of Israel, that never slumberest or sleepest, what shall we render unto thee for all thy benefits; because thou hast inclined thine ears unto me, therefore will I call on thee as long as I live, from the rising of the sun to the going down of the same let thy name be praised. among the infinite riches of thy mercy towards me, I desire to render thanks & praise for thy merciful preservation of me this day, as well as all the days of my life; and for the many other blessings & mercies spiritual & temporal which thou hast bestowed on me, contrary to my deserving. All these thy mercies call on me to be thankful and my infirmities & wants call for a continuance of thy tender mercies; cleanse my soul, O Lord, I beseech thee, from whatever is offensive to thee, and hurtful to me, and give me what is convenient for me. watch over me this night, and give me comfortable and sweet sleep to fit me for the service of the day following. Let my soul watch for the coming of the Lord Jesus; let my bed put me in mind of my grave, and my rising from there of my last resurrection; O heavenly Father, so frame this heart of mine, that I may ever delight to live according to thy will and command, in holiness and righteousness before thee all the days of my life. Let me remember, O Lord, the time will come when the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall rise and stand before the judgment seat, and give an account of whatever they have done in the body, and let me so prepare my soul, that I may do it with joy and not with grief. bless the rulers and people of this and forget not those who are under any affliction or oppression. Let thy favor be extended to all my relations friends and all others who I ought to remember in my prayer and hear me I beseech thee for the sake of my dear redeemer in whose most holy words, I farther pray, Our Father, who art in Heaven…

Lillback concluded that Washington spiritual beliefs matter very much to America, today. After all, he is the single-most influential man in America’s history and established the foundations for its politics and faith. Washington’s beliefs determine the way in which we interpret the constitution. They also determine whether or not Christians have a place in the public square. And, most importantly to me, if Washington did indeed believe in Jesus Christ and pray often for God’s sovereign guidance and protection, than perhaps it was God who inspired some of the richest political blessings that have affected the entire world…

This sparked in me the desire to know if any other countries have been established by one or more people who were sincerely seeking God’s direction and blessing. If I were proposing a thesis topic this evening, it would revolve around an exploration of what those countries are like today; I wonder, do they wrestle with their identities as ferociously as we do? I wonder, do they still pray? Do we?

We pulled out of town at 6 a.m. in the pitch black this morning. (We were heading to my parents’ home for the weekend where I’ll take more classes towards my certificate in Women’s Ministry, hopefully find the perfect end tables for our master bedroom at Ikea, and enjoy the peaceful hospitality of our home away from home.) With rain and bug guts from our most recent travels smearing across the windshield, a sleeping Vivienne and I drove silently for an hour and a half into the sunrise. The beautiful thing about driving due east at this hour of day is that the mystery of the darkness ever-so-slowly transforms into a manageable light. I hardly noticed as the sky slowly brightened, but my vivid imagination of deer poised to leap across the road and top-heavy trucks about to topple, relaxed; I settled back into the driver’s seat, enjoying the silence, praying, and appreciating the red and yellow leaves instead.

I got to thinking… perhaps I don’t recognize every increment of light that God sheds on my spiritual path, but how generous of Him to enlighten it more and more as I journey towards Heaven. I’ve learned that the light intensifies on my path as I continually read and live His Word. Then, as His light drives out darkness, His perfect love drives out my fears.

Enjoy the ride… head towards the light.

I just love the world after a good rainfall. In high school choir, we sang an unusual song (not shocking, of course, since all high school choir songs are unusual… WHY?! This is certainly one of the questions I will ask God when I get to Heaven) that contained a haunting melody about the dewy world after rain. The soprano’s descent “after rain… after rain… after rain… aaaafffftterrrr rain” has taken up a permanent residence in my neurons and runs itself ragged on days like today.

It was the soundtrack to my late shower (didn’t get up in time to snag a shower before the little girl I babysit arrived; before I knew it, I was rolling up my puffy robe sleeves - Why are robe sleeves always so puffy and inconvenient?  This is another question I shall investigate  in the future -  to change the girls, and read to them while taking breaks after every page to scoop another spoonful of fresh apple oatmeal into each of our mouths). And somehow the song inspired me to do my hair and make-up especially for today and venture out of yesterday’s rainy-day snuggly sweats into a maternity top and jeans that I haven’t worn yet. To be honest, putting some time and care into my appearance felt sooo good; I’ve been feeling kinda self-conscious during this pregnancy and recently decided that I’m not going to let my feelings dictate the *fun* a girl can have with an ever-enlarging bump on her abdomen.

Anyway, since Ryan was feeling a bit drowsy at work, Vivienne and I packed up some mint lotions and Vitamin C and surprised him at work. V *massaged* his temples (and now-minty-fresh hair) while I gave him a quick hand massage. After our visit, V and I went to the Boalsburg War Memorial park so she could ride her bike around a bit. She hasn’t been too thrilled about riding yet; I think her resistance is due in part to the weight of those silly helmets the kids have to wear these days; give her the wind in her hair and she’ll ride for miles and miles, I bet! But today she pedaled on her own, helmet and all! I really wanted her to have a few more opportunities to ride before the chilliest of State College weather rolls in. Then she ran all over the steps and ramps, playing an alphabet game with the engravings.

Like a butterfly flitting from flower to flower, floating up to the blue autumn sky, fanning its wings beautifully on a blade of dewy grass only to be plucked from the land of the living by the chubby fingers of a curious child, the whimsical heart can be both beautiful and dangerous. I know; I have one.

The whimsical heart might be easily admired from afar; it has had countless adorable starring roles in movies (usually as blond Kate Hudsons) that encourage the whimsical person to “keep bein’ you!” and demanding that everyone else stand back and let the little one fly free. And what’s not to love? The whimsical heart is creative, passionate, joyful, fun-loving, and unique. That’s the part they show in the movies, anyway. What they don’t show is that the whimsical heart is also uncontrolled, shifting, and easily tossed about. Without boundaries, a whimsical heart follows Creativity, Sensationalism, Emotionalism, or Selfishness, which all end up in disaster (even though it was deliciously fun getting there). Even whimsical hearts that love God can spin ’round and ’round because we naturally approach God and His Word as a refreshing frolic or a gorgeous piece of artwork. Although our hearts might break over the beauty of the King, it might never dawn on us that His kingdom is full of practical wisdom for our day-to-day actual behavior. Left alone, we don’t easily discern between God’s definition of “lovely” and the world’s definition… nor do we remember that it’s important to discern between the two in the first place… nor do we necessarily want to discern between the two. (If you don’t have a whimsical heart, this is probably quite difficult to comprehend, but it’s true!)

These meditations have developed as I deal with regrets: things I’ve said, done, or thought in the past that give me shivers today. I can’t tell you how often my heart will seize in memory of something so ugly or ungodly that I’ve done, believing at the time that I was being funny or sensual or fabulous. I’m growing increasingly tired of learning about healthy boundaries through mistakes I’ve made rather than through wisdom and warning. So, I’ve been asking God to give me some insight about my heart and some guidance for the future. I’m not surprised that one of the first things God has done is revealed some boundaries that I will need to keep in place in order to be transformed from an uncontrolled whimsical heart to one that is controlled by the Holy Spirit and who stands firm in the Truth.

Presenting “The Needy List” of the whimsical heart:

* People who aren’t intimidated by a little passion and aren’t as easily convinced that every whim is gorgeous and right (enter Ryan, my husband; thank God)

* The permission to acknowledge that we actually do need boundaries (lots of people want to “rescue” the whimsical heart by encouraging it to be “more free,” when in fact they are shewing it towards chaos); the faith to believe that those boundaries will only cause our creativity and passion to become more beautiful (enter my family and dear friends)

* Deep instruction in the Word of God that demands a practical, consistent, behavioral response (enter Vivienne’s nap time when I can read God’s Word; as well as my dear friends and family, again)

* The courage to sloooooow down and respect warnings, consequences, and practical wisdom (enter the Holy Spirit, solitude, submission, good literature, and long afternoons on the beach… and turning 25, which seems to have been a defining moment in my ability to consciously discern between wisdom and foolishness)

* The divine ability to love the unchanging direction of the Holy Spirit over our own shifting passions (enter the Holy Spirit and His Word, again).

Even though I diligently lined up dated envelopes across the refrigerator (each envelope with a note, a picture, and a special sticker) and marked the calendar so that that Vivienne could see our return date approaching; and even though Ryan and I called every day and video-chatted with her every-other day, I think Vivienne’s balanced response to our week-long absence was far more influenced by…

Time with Grandpop.  Like cuddling up to Winnie the Pooh.

Reading and playing with Grandmom and adorable cousin, Ali .

Lunch with friends.  One of Grandmom’s surprise afternoon activities.

Admiring the scarecrows at Peddler’s Village

Enjoying a traditional merry-go-round ride with Grandpop.

And tons of other amazing experiences like winning a pig race at the local fall festival, finding a perfectly tiny greenish pumpkin, visiting and singing for an elderly couple in my parents’ church, taking her first train ride, playing with puppets, dancing, dancing, dancing (thanks for the sweet new moves, Aunt Erin!), swinging, swinging, swinging, and being loved like crazy.  I sure am glad I didn’t send our little homeschooling book along!  She learned so much  more with Grandpop and Grandmom’s curriculum than she ever would with mine. (Now that’s a valuable homeschooling secret!)