...on being a Mama

I always knew I would be a Mama someday.  I had a million baby dolls, and I cared for them like it was my job.  My cabbage patch kid was better cared for than our own flesh and blood babies, I think.  Even so, when the pregnancy test turned out positive in our little bathroom on Miami Street in Park Forest, I cried.  I'm slightly embarrassed to admit they were not tears of joy, but tears of sadness and fear.  My first words to Tim were, "Now we can NEVER go to the movies!".  I eventually transitioned to excitement over the next few months, but, if I'm honest, I was dreading the loss of freedom just a little bit.

Well, of course, we have managed to go to the movies plenty of times over the last fifteen years, and, of course, I wouldn't trade these boys for anything in the wide whole world.  They are fun, exhausting, hilarious, stinky, loud, adventurous, creative, maddening, and so much more.  Their presence in my life makes me a better person, a better woman, a better follower of Jesus.

As I reflect, though, on those initial thoughts in that tiny, palm-tree-tiled bathroom on Miami Street, I am reminded that many of the freedoms we enjoyed as young marrieds DID disappear with the birth of Isaac, and then even more-so when Ezra and Simon came along.  Losing some freedom isn't all bad though.  These children have pulled me out of myself.  It is difficult to focus only on what I want when a crying baby is hungry.  Sitting and reading a book for three hours is nearly impossible when siblings need help with negotiations..  I can't only think of my agenda when there are three basketball games to get to in a weekend.  My new shoes often get put on hold when the middle guy has outgrown his shoes AGAIN.  They pull me out of myself, these boys.  Their very existence reminds me that it is truly NOT all about me.  For me, this is yet another reminder that the gifts in our lives, whatever they may be, come from the Father and are carefully orchestrated to make us more like him.

I remain grateful for these three gifts.  Thank you, boys, for the daily reminder that it is not all about me.  I love you.  Love, Mama

The baby comes no matter what I do...

As we were leaving for the hospital in January 2001, I remember telling Tim with genuine fear, "But I don't know HOW to have a baby".  His reply was, "Jenn, people who aren't as smart as you have babies all the time.  You'll be fine".  I giggled, and we got in the car and left.

Lo and behold, that baby came out, and it really had nothing to do with my skill or knowledge or preparation.  Isaac was coming out no matter what I did, really.

As Christmas day approaches this year, I find many things left undone.  Our Advent wreath only has one candle lit (which means we totally skipped two weeks of Advent).  We had great plans for it, but life happened and now we will light the rest tonight as we celebrate that baby.  I always make homemade cinnamon rolls, but I just bought canned biscuits to make Monkey Bread instead.  We never took a picture for Christmas cards, and somehow I just never sent any out.  I love Advent wreaths and homemade cinnamon rolls and Christmas cards, and most years, those things bring me great joy.  This year, however, they just aren't going to happen.

That baby still was born, though.  It had nothing to do with my skill or anything I had or had not done, really.  He came whether I was ready for him or not.  He was born right into the midst of my half-done Advent wreath and canned biscuit Monkey bread.  He was born to redeem me and save me, and he welcomes the real me.

I love him, this baby Jesus who was born and lived so well and then died to pay for my redemption.

For the Love...

“It is no wonder humanity has long preferred legalism, which involves much cleaner territory. Give me a rule any day. Give me a clear “in” and “out” because boundaries make me feel safe. If I can clearly mark the borders, then I am assured of my insider status—the position I feel compelled to defend, the one thing I can be sure of. I want to stand before God having gotten it right.”
― Jen Hatmaker, For the Love

This book is still messing with me.  I keep going back in and re-reading the parts I've marked up.  This one...yes, Jen Hatmaker, you are right...the legalism, it can make us feel safe can't it?  I mean, if I've followed all of the rules I've decided are important, then who can argue that I'm not in the clear?

The only problem is that legalism is not something Jesus loves.  I cannot find a picture of Jesus anywhere in his Word that paints him as a legalistic rule follower.  I can't find a list of rules where it says, "don't cuss, drink, or smoke and you are on God's good list".  I can't find it anywhere.

I DO find a Savior who loves, rescues, redeems, invites, welcomes, pursues, and disciples.  I find a man/God who embraces humanness.  I think that if he lived here in my town, he would be hanging out with people who don't have it all together and are honest about that...people like me who struggle with real stuff and don't mind talking about it...for me, it's stuff like pride and anger and gluttony and laziness and gossip.  For the other people Jesus might be hanging out with, it might be things like deceit and addiction and lust and who knows what else.

I think Jesus would welcome our talk about the ways we struggle, maybe even our thoughts about whether or not the struggle is worth it...  I think he would welcome our honest discussion about the shitty parts of trying to live in this world but not of it.  I believe with everything in me that he welcomes our honesty, our authenticity, our real-ness.

This is the God I love and serve.  I will go to the gates of hell for him if he asks me to because he has rescued me and I belong to him.  There is no list of rules...there is only love and belonging which then, amazingly, transform me into his likeness.

Advent...Gettin' Ready for Jesus

A couple of days ago, the cousins and Auntie and Uncle Dave came to visit overnight.  We don't do a thorough house cleaning or anything..we love 'em too much to try to impress 'em...but there ARE some things we do to get ready for their arrival.  We make sure the nerf darts are stocked.  We make sure we have just the right beverages and snacks.  We have board games and card games in mind just in case we decide to go that direction.  We know EXACTLY the things we want to talk to them about, to catch up on all of our journeys.  We prepare our house; we prepare our hearts.

The same is true for Jesus...we celebrate his birth on Christmas Day, but we can spend the month of December preparing our home, preparing our hearts.  I wrote up a simple explanation for our small group Bible study peeps of what our family does...not because we are experts, but just because we've tried some stuff.  Sharing it here in case anyone else would like some ideas...

Follow this link to view Wood Family Advent ideas.

Love Does Stuff

Sometimes, Mr. Wood says really smart things.  I like that.  He's hot when he's smart.  We go on a lunch date every Tuesday.  It might be the only time all week that we actually say full sentences to each other without interruption.  I look forward to Tuesdays because of our lunch date (well, and because my class has Art at 2:00 until the end of the day...bless you, Mr. Green).

Today, in between bites of pepperoni pizza, Mr. Wood said something that jolted me.  We were talking about when something wrong or unjust or just not ok is happening and someone has the authority or position to really do something about it and they just don't, for whatever reason.  (Incidentally, we were not talking about when someone does NOT have authority or position to do something about it and just chooses to be loud or obnoxious about something they really have no business being loud or obnoxious about.)  Anyway, back to it...Mr. Wood said "I don't think they really love the person they say they care about if they don't take any action".

It stopped me in my tracks.  Who in my life do I say I care about or love, but when the rubber hits the road, I'm not willing to go the extra mile or do the uncomfortable or weird thing it takes to protect, stand up for, and really LOVE them?  Love with words is easy; love with actions is often more difficult.  When something "not ok" is happening to someone I claim to love and I am in a position of authority or leadership in which I am allowed to do something about it, love demands that I do the thing, even when it's hard.

“Love and say it with your life.” ― Augustine of Hippo

When all of the things make sense...

There are moments when life just REALLY makes sense,  moments of clarity when I am not looking as though through a fog, but instead, seeing with clear eyes.   Tim and I have referred to those moments for years as Psalm 73 moments...having entered the sanctuary, things finally make sense...circumstances and people don't change, but my view of everything shifts in an incredible way.

I'm just gonna be honest and say that, for me, those moments have happened most often among big kids.  You guys, they are incredible.  They are real.  They are honest.  They are kind when you show them how to be and sometimes even when you haven't shown them how.  I mean no offense to the grownups out there...well, unless you are guilty of a steady stream of being UNreal and DIShonest and UNkind in which case I guess you may be justified in taking offense.

Back to what I was saying, though...one of my VERY fave moments with some big kids happened about five years ago and I wrote about it here if you are just wanting for more things to read.  Another took place tonight, with a few grownups and about sixty big kids.  It was nothing particularly out of the ordinary, but the fog cleared away from my eyes and my heart and mind screamed "Yes!  THIS is REAL life.  This is what we were made for." The things I am preoccupied with on a daily basis are really just stepping stones between the REAL moments of life, when life makes SENSE, when I remember the REAL why of our existence.  Tim lead us straight up to the throne in worship, like Jesus himself was sitting in the middle of us, listening to our voices tell him he is the bomb.  The boy/man Nathan (boy because I feel he is still that boy in our own youth ministry, but, alas, he is the man in charge) was real and honest and vulnerable as he answered real questions from the big kids.  The big kids were brave as they asked questions and brave to be considering living fearlessly in those buildings we call junior high and high school.

Loving people and making God's name great as we journey...this is the real stuff.  I wanna live like that.

Mr. Wood, our boys, and big kids...all of my favorites!

Being

This is the first day of summer break that I haven't had at least one place to be at some point during the day.  Tim and the boys have come and gone and will do so again this evening, but I am still at home in my 1988 Space Camp t-shirt and leggings, my hair pulled up and pinned out of my eyes with a bobby pin.

Oh, I've put some clothes away (trying to chip away at the Mt. Everest that is my clean clothes pile), done some work on the computer, tried a new recipe with some blueberries that were about to go bad, made lunch, washed some dishes, thought about spray painting some lamps...but none of those things were required of me today.  There is nothing pulling at me in this day.

I need these days.  I need to just be.  I need space to think and dream and compose emails in my mind as I sit in the quiet (or not-so-quiet, as the case may be).  I need the margins to be empty some days.  It is in the being that I remember who I am; these are the moments when God's very spirit speaks life into me and reminds me of who I am supposed to be both in the stillness and in the busy.

The "being" days...I need to make sure they happen on a regular basis.