What I Pray For You

My daughter,

I do not pray that all your wishes will come true and all your dreams be fulfilled;

Because I have been there and seen that wishes and dreams can turn out to be different than we first thought and emptier than we realized.

But I pray that your heart will be captured by the Lover of your soul, your mind arrested and captivated by the indescribable glory of your Maker so that as you grow to know Him deeper, you will gladly and wholeheartedly rejoice to dream HIS dreams for you; 

choose to walk out HIS gorgeous wishes for your one, beautiful life.

You are precious and priceless, 

and His dreams for you are far greater and more fulfilling than you can ever imagine.

Trust Him, my child; as you grow.

Trust Him with all your heart.

Don't lean on the way you understand things to be.

Acknowledge Him in all your ways.

He will direct your paths.

And blow all other worries to the wind. 🌾

Changing Seasons

I sat down cross-legged on the kitchen tile yesterday afternoon, the season’s last piece of pumpkin pie, leftover from Thanksgiving, on a plate in my hand. My three toddlers crowded close, mouths open like little birds, clamoring for bite after bite. We scarfed it down before even having lunch. It was our last hurrah to the season of the year that I always think I love best; our bidding adieu to what had been the best Autumn I could remember.

I pulled down all the Fall decorations and piled them on the table... the pumpkins, the coloured leaves, the stuffed Mr. Squirrel Nutkins who’d been hugged countless times by googly-eyed girls as we read stories of Fall and pumpkin picking and Thanksgiving, cuddled on the loveseat under a blanket.

I won’t deny it: I was a little sad that Fall had come to a close once again. I’m not ready.

I don’t like change, people. At least, I think I don’t.

My in laws came and put up the Christmas lights outside. I brought up the bin of winter decorations from the basement, set up a manger scene, introduced the girls to Mr. Nutkins’ replacement, namely Sugar the stuffed snowman, and sat him on the mantle next to all the wintery board books I could find… but, truth is, I’m still dragging my feet into this new season.

My babies? They turned one today. One whole year. Just like that, an entire year just flew by. Gone. Over. Complete. Engraved into my history.

Twins do that, you know. They make time fly twice as fast. I guarantee it. Just yesterday I was holding both tiny, swaddled newborns in the same arm. I know it was just yesterday, there’s no way it’s been longer than that.

I remember the four dragging days in the NICU, the first wakeful night with them in our own room… the adjusting, the learning, the praying for grace… the two of everything, the explaining to each and every visitor every time which baby was which and how one could learn to tell the difference.

But then, of course, just as I think there’s no way a whole year has passed, I think of all the other things this year has held and I know it has been a very full, very busy and very long year after all.

So many milestones, so many memories to cherish. I don’t think I ever realized, before now,

...just how much can take place,

...just how many changes can happen,

...just how many seasons there are

in just one year.

One year ago at this moment I was breathing through the pains of labour, soon to birth these two daughters of mine into the world. And not one day has passed since then that I haven’t laboured to nourish, to nurture, to care for, to teach these daughters of mine, to make sure they make it in the world, but more than that: to make sure they make it into the Kingdom of God. Labour doesn’t end in birth, it has only just begun.

There have been many a night when I begged God to make these babies go back to sleep, and prayed for grace to change my attitude because, honestly, at three in the morning the very last thing I would really like to do is get up and change two diapers, then prop up all the pillows on my side of the bed to nurse two babies back to sleep in the dark and the cold. Some nights I get so frustrated. Some moments I just lose it. And then I labour again to find the grace I need to be the mama they need.

But the seasons keep changing. Already they are sleeping better (or am I just totally getting used to it?) and they definitely don’t go through as many diapers now as they did in the newborn stage.

So I can say “I don’t like change”, but then these changes, of course, are welcome ones.

Hmm. My heart attitude is coming into full view now. Who am I to pick and choose which changes I’ll give thanks for, and which changes I will whine and complain about?

We don’t get to choose the seasons, but we do get to live them. They make us who we are.

Sunday evening I was doing my best to hold it together inside. There’s another season I’m dragging my feet into, and it’s a season of mothering three toddlers and saying goodbye to their babyhood that flew by all too quickly. Because the twins aren’t the only ones who had birthdays this week. My first daughter, the one who opened me up and made me a mother in the first place, she turned 2 on Sunday. Two whole years. I’ve already reminisced about this last year and where it went, but what about the year before? How did it come to be that that tiny treasure whose name means praise no longer wakes up in the middle of the night squalling until satisfied with milk and her mommy’s warm touch? How can it be that she no longer needs to be swaddled or bounced or carried everywhere? When in this spinning world did that little tiny baby-miracle of mine learn to walk on her own, talk on her own, feed herself, put on her own socks, pull up her chair to turn on a lightswitch, pretend to read a book aloud and care for her dolly like a miniature mother? When?!

When did I become mother of three toddlers?

And quite frankly, when did I become a mother of three?

Because if yesterday I was holding tiny newborn twins, it surely was the day before that I was welcoming my first daughter into my arms and whispering her name over and over. And undoubtedly, it was just the day before that that I was walking down the aisle to those babies’ father, the love of my life…. and just days before that I was travelling through Romania, El Salvador, Honduras, Uganda. RIGHT??? How can it be that years of my life have gone by in the blink of an eye? Where does time go and how does it drag and fly all at the same time?

Breathe. Slow down, Self. Breathe. I must remember to breathe through this labouring.

Breathe and remember. Breathe and give thanks. Breathe and rejoice in the changing of the seasons of life.

If seasons didn’t change-

No, seriously. If seasons really didn’t change-

I say I don’t like change, but if seasons just stopped changing; if, let’s say, at some point when I was feeling really very happy and content everything just stopped changing and stayed the same from that point on: look what I would’ve completely missed out on!

I might still be in Africa: loving it, I’m sure, but living an unfulfilled life because that was just part of my life story.

I might still be single: permanently lacking my other half.

I might still be enjoying our honeymoon in Hawaii, but would have never had the joy of knowing my three precious daughters.

I might still be sharing our bedroom with two babies. (Um, that season also just came to a close on Sunday when we moved them into their new nursery. Yes and amen!)

I might also be starting to get really tired of Pumpkin Spice Lattes. If seasons never changed.

Change is good. Change is how we grow. Changing seasons let us experience joy in so many different, beautiful forms.

And, okay. I admit it.

One year old twins? Two year old daughter? Time isn’t really passing me by thaaat fast.

It’s not like they’re leaving home yet or anything. However, I may refer myself back to this post tomorrow when she’s walking down the aisle on her wedding day.

And in the meantime? Alright. I get it. Breathe and give thanks. Give thanks for each moment while it lasts. It’s time to enter into the new season my Father has so thoughtfully prepared.

Breathe and remember: Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever. (Heb. 13:8)

He doesn’t change with the seasons. He gives more grace for each season we walk through and He continues to satisfy our hearts and our souls with all that we need throughout each season. He stays the same, His love endures: “He delights in unchanging love.” (Micah 7:18)

So I’ll pack away the last of those infant clothes, store the baby rattles and chew toys in the basement until next time, and embrace this new season of full-blown toddlerhood-times-three that He has put before me.

I’ll finish putting away my Fall candles and pumpkin spice, pull out the advent calendar, and dig out the stockings. And while I get dinner going, I may just turn on some Christmas music and make myself a peppermint mocha. And I will give thanks to the Giver of all good things, because this season, too, will be blessed and beautiful because He made it.

He makes the seasons, and He makes the changes.

And I will labour 

to take hold of the grace I need 

to embrace the changing seasons.

Opening

Precious, tiny thing that you were, you opened me up to a pain I could've never imagined possible. The contractions in my body that pushed you down, down, down from your cozy place in my womb; they scared me. They hurt in a way I couldn't describe. I writhed and groaned and squeezed your daddy's hand way too hard.
And then, then you opened me up. You opened my body, I was broken for you.

You made me a mother.

My life was changed and your life came forth.

Oh my goodness, the relief. The joy. The completion: you were finally HERE.

In those moments my lips opened and I couldn't stop whispering praise and thanks to the Emmanuel who created Motherhood. Oh, oh. I can't even describe it.

Each one of you. All three times. The same feelings of pain, of fear, of relief; the same ecstatic joy.

And then? Then my heart was opened up to love so big I didn't even think I could hold it in. All three times.
Day after day, month after month, my heart has opened wider and wider because this love, oh this love, just keeps growing. Why? Oh, because you keep growing. And when a baby-dear grows into a person, a Mommy's love grows too, because there is continually more and more and more to love: with every inch added to your stature, every word added to your vocabulary, and every attribute of your personality revealed.

And also, you open doors for me. Yes, you! Each one of you precious, tiny girls. Doors to my community. Doors into people's lives. Neighbours I've never met came to our home to welcome you  with a card and a baby gift. Random people stop and peer into the stroller when we're out in town, smiling and asking questions; "How old is she?" "What's her name?".... And now, "Oh my word, you have three?" "Are they triplets?"
I have gotten to know the neighbour next door better in this last week than I have in the two years we've lived here, just because twice I've happened to step out onto the back porch with you and there she was, out on her back porch too. Seeing you little cuties she grinned and said you were adorable. Then we started chatting. And from there, well, you know how it goes: conversations start. Relationships are formed. Opportunities to share Jesus present themselves. She has an auto-immune disease: that basically means that the cells inside her body attack other cells inside her body and that makes her so sick all the time. I didn't know that before our chat this week.

YOU opened that door with her.

You, and your pigtails. You, and your charming gummy smile. And yes, you, with your funny, baby growl that makes everybody laugh. The three of you have opened the doors to opportunities with more neighbours and locals than I can count. Opportunities for me to smile and spread the light of the joy that Jesus puts in our hearts even right in the trenches of sleepless, unpredictable, busy motherhood.


But those are not the only opportunities you open up for me. Because of you, I have had the opportunity to learn and and to grow personally in so many areas.

For one thing, my knowledge has grown. Growing up I learned to change diapers, bathe a baby, dress a child, braid hair, cook meals, teach reading, babysit... All the basic things, because I had a good mommy, and because I was given the opportunity to practice what I was taught on my siblings. I'm the oldest of 5 brothers and 5 sisters, you know. But because of YOU I have begun to learn MOMMY things. Since you have arrived in my life, my mind has been opened up to so many, many new topics I hadn't even considered before. Like what foods to introduce to a baby first, how to nurse two babies at the same time, what to look for when you're worried your toddler got a concussion because she fell off the couch on her head when being silly (you didn't, thank the Lord), how to treat a cold in a very young infant, how to train up a child in the way she should go.... Things like that, just to name a very few. Oh, I've learned much already, and I'm learning more every day.

But also I've had many opportunities to grow spiritually. I've learned from you. I've learned because of you.

Patience. That's the classic answer; ask any mom, she'll tell you, "If anyone teaches me patience, it's my kids!" But really, though; you do. The Lord does, anyway. Through you.

The thing that stands out the most in my mind, though, is how much the eyes of my heart have been opened to the love and character of my Heavenly Father... Just by mothering you. It's amazing. Oh, I needed this. To have my eyes opened more, like this.

But why all this about opening?? Well, my darlings, simply because there is this strong, subtle, dangerously-venomous temptation in motherhood to look at all the doors, opportunities, seasons of life... adventures, experiences... that are now closed to us, and grow so discontent in the place we fill.

Are you happy when you think about and wish for what you don't have or can't have anymore? No.

And neither are Mommies. And an unhappy mommy can really do damage in her home.

It can be easy to vocalize about how our children tie us down, keep us at home, close us off from the world we used to know, keep us from the "fun" and the "freedom" we used to enjoy... 

Or even to ever-so-simply mull it over in over minds discontentedly.

Closed doors can be disappointing if you stand there staring at them. YOU know that; I've seen you whine many-a-time when Mommy closes a door to a forbidden room. 

Meditating on the closing can often brew a perfect cup of bitterness ...if we forget the opening! 

The more we turn this thought of closed doors over in our minds, the more unhappy we become in the very calling that is meant to give us life and joy... 

AND the more we whine to others... 

AND the more we lash out at our little dearies... 

Making it really hard to be "a joyful mother of children." (Psalm 113:9)

I'm a mommy now. I might never again get to fly through a day and a night to Africa: care for orphans, pray with AIDS victims, walk sandal-clad on red Ugandan soil, feel a hippo bump the boat I'm sitting in, or watch the sun set of Lake Victoria. 

I may never again see the Cataratas de Puhapanzak in Honduras or tour Peleș Castle in the Carpathian Mountains of Romania or pray with a young Guatemalan mother on the curb of her cobblestone street.
I probably won't get to go back to Hawaii with your daddy, or be invited join the single ladies for a shopping trip to the city, or get to sleep in until 10 on a Saturday morning, or have a flat, tight belly again. I might not ever get a solid eight hours of sleep again either (actually, I prefer ten, if we're being honest). Those are just a few of the roads closed off to me now, because I am a mother of three babies. 

Oh, but Loves, just look at the joy, the life, the amazing adventures that the Lord has opened up before me NOW! Why would I even sigh about the places I can't go, things I can't do, person I can't be; in light of the privilege of motherhood???

You've opened up a whole new world to me... 

Of diaper bags and bottles and baby toys, 

of cluttered floors and animal fridge magnets and Cheerios, 

of carseats and swings and bouncy chairs and exersaucers, 

of sleepers and burp cloths and tiny matching outfits, 

of fascination with birdies outside and puppies and motorcycles that roar by past the front window, 

of silly gummy grins and cooing conversations and giggles that end in spit up, 

of 3am snacks in the kitchen and 5am feeds in bed, 

of blow-outs and spaghetti sauce in hair and perpetually runny noses in Winter's "Cold and Flu Season", 

of watching the wonder in your eyes as you see a real cow for the first time, 

of tasting avocados or rice cereal- or ice cream or chocolate chips- for the very first time, 

of teaching you to hide God's word in your heart and rocking and praying in the twilight moments over you and thanking God over and over and over daily for the gift of you... 

And, oh, how I love this world that I live in with you. 

How I love this adventure with that we call motherhood that has been opened up to me because of you.

You opened me up. You made me a mother.

I choose to open my heart and my arms to all that my Father chooses to bestow, and not become fixated on the closing. I rejoice to tear open this beautifully-wrapped gift He gives me called Motherhood.

"You give to them, they gather it up; 

You open Your hand, they are satisfied with good."

(Psalm 104:28)