Oh! That child!

Sometimes I look at Ava and I think, "How will she ever learn right from wrong?"  She is consistently in trouble.  But, she is also consistently good at making me laugh in the middle of that trouble.  And doesn't that kind of negate any kind of punishment that I am trying to dish out?

Luckily, these last two episodes have been on Loren's watch and he is far better than me at keeping a straight face.

The other night, while Loren's parents were here visiting, Ava was sleeping in our bed because hers was being used by my nephew.  Loren put her to bed and then put the other kids to bed and all was quiet in the house for most of an hour. At one point, we heard the pitter patter of little feet and realized they were coming from our room.  When Loren went to check it out, it turned out that Ava had not been asleep AT ALL.  In fact, she had methodically turned our room topsy turvy.  But, when Loren opened the door, she was standing in the middle of our bed with an afro wig on, which she slowly removed while she said, "Sorry, daddy." (um...yeah...we have lots of wigs because of Young Life.  And it was in our bedroom for a perfectly normal reason.  I promise!) He kept a straight face while he doled out consequences and then burst out laughing when he told us the story.

Then, tonight, Ava was put in time out for some reason or another.  (They all run together sometimes).  I should also mention here that she was basically naked, except for some underwear.  That is apparently going to be her summer uniform.  I promise that I dress her in the morning, but at some point after her nap, she gets undressed and we just never really get around to dressing her again. Don't judge, people.  I am doing less laundry and loving it! Anyway, when Loren went to get her, she sat straight up, all quick-like.  You know...with that look your children have whenever they are caught doing something they aren't supposed to.  When he looked, she had two round stickers, strategically placed right over her nipples. I think he just let that one go.

Oh that Ava!  It may take her a while to learn the difference between right and wrong, but she has already learned the difference between wrong and wrong, but funny.  And she is using that to her advantage.

Grace and Beauty and Raising Little Girls

This weekend, we spent about 6 hours total putting in this awesome hair-do.

These are yarn twists and Hope has been asking me for them for a few months now.  We finally did it and I think they turned out pretty cute.  She loves that she can throw them up in a ponytail or pigtails herself and that they whip around when she shakes her head.  I think these will be a fun little addition to our hair routine.

Then, on Saturday, we rushed out the door and got in the car, only a few minutes late for soccer.  Hope, sporting her new twists, pulled on shin guards and soccer socks and cleats as we drove away from the house.  My sporty girl.  And as she got all geared up she said, "Mom, do you wear make-up to make yourself prettier?"

Rarely do you get the opportunity to fully prepare for these important conversations. Oh, it's not that I don't think about how I will answer my girls' questions about faith or love or sex or beauty.  It's just that I am never quite able to articulate in my head exactly how I want that conversation to go. Exactly how I will phrase the important truths that I so desperately want them to know. Exactly what those most important truths are.

This weekend, I got to babysit my 6 month old niece for a few days. And I had forgotten how much I liked the rhythms of feeding and sleeping that babies have.  More than that, I forgot how much I liked being able to meet every need.  Babies are simple.  Feed, change, sleep.  Repeat.  You can feel like you've accomplished something at the end of a day with a baby.  Like you've met all of their needs.  8 year olds are different.  Their needs feel as numerous as the stars.  All the things you want them to know and believe and hold tight to come rushing at you sometimes, and you wonder if you've ever truly said them out loud.  Or if they've seen you live it out enough to believe it's true.  And it feels like time is slipping away.  That someday soon, they might believe what someone else says more than they believe you.

I wanted to lie to Hope and tell her that I only wear make up because it's fun.  That I felt beautiful with or without it.  But, it does make me feel prettier. And now I just feel bad about that. Do I have to be a no make-up wearing woman in order to convince my daughter that God created her beautifully? What I said to her was this, "Hope, I think I do wear make-up because sometimes it makes me feel prettier.  But I'm not sure that's right.  I think it should just be for fun.  And, I do feel like God made me pretty just the way I am. But I didn't always feel like that.  I feel like that now because God has shown me how he made me beautiful." I think it was an okay answer.

I worry all the time that I am getting it wrong.  That my wearing make-up or putting yarn twists in Hope's hair is sending a message that speaks louder than the truths I want her to believe.  But I also know that I am raising my girls in a state of grace.  That there is grace enough for me to figure these things out. And grace enough if I never do. I know that her yarn twists or my love of mascara will not be the end of God's pursuit of her and it won't be the end of all that I have to teach her about beauty.  Here's what I want her to know about beauty in the midst of a culture obsessed with pursuing it's own distorted version of it:  Pursue God, instead. It's the only way to see ourselves clearly.  And when we do, we get to see all the beauty in us that he sees. And we will believe that it's true, and feel a rush of pleasure at what he's created.

I hope that someday she knows that she is beautiful because God has made it so.  And that she will be prepared to fight for that truth in a world that would seek to tell her otherwise.  For now, I'll fight for her as best I know how.  I'll tell her often and emphatically that she is exquisite.  I'll point out the lies that our culture tells about beauty.  And I will open my hands as I pray, offering her up to God, and professing my belief in these things. "She is yours, Lord.  You take great delight in her.  You have made her beautiful." I'll believe it for her. And I'll keep asking God to show me how to teach it and how to live it out.  And I'll be grateful for grace.     

He is Risen!

May you find JOY and FREEDOM at the empty tomb today.

HE IS RISEN!

The Cup

Our family has been celebrating the Seder for the last five years during Holy Week. It is such a rich way to enter into the story of Jesus death and resurrection and I love knowing that I am observing Passover, just as Jesus did the night before he died.

In the Passover, there are four cups of wine that you drink during different parts of the meal and they each represent something different. The cup of sanctification, the cup of deliverance, the cup of redemption, and the cup of praise. The third cup takes place after the meal and it was during this cup of redemption that Jesus, on the night he was betrayed, told his disciples, "This cup is the new covenant in my blood, which is poured out for many for the forgiveness of sins." (Matthew 26:28).

The image of this cup has stirred me up during this season of Lent. "This cup is the new covenant in my blood"...and then Jesus in the garden saying, "Father, take this cup from me. But, not my will but yours be done"

In Walter Wangerin's devotional, "Reliving the Passion" he talks about that first time Jesus is offered wine and myrrh on the cross, to dull the pain a bit. "He shakes his head. He will not drink from [that] cup. He will in no wise dull his sense or ease the pain. And so we know. What are the feelings? What has the spirit of Jesus been doing since Gethsemane? Why, suffering. With a pure and willful consciousness, terribly sensitive to every thorn and cut and scornful slur: suffering....Or what has the Lord been doing since Gethsemane? Drinking. Not from the narcotic cup, but from the cup the Father would not remove from him: drinking. Swallow by swallow, tasting all the hell therein, not tossing it down in a hurry: 'So that by the grace of God he might taste death for everyone.'"

May you be blessed this week to know that the cup of redemption was drained to the last drop, swallow by bitter swallow. And while He drank, he thought of you.

Ode to Canon City Community Fitness

It's been going on for almost a year now, this obsession of mine, and I guess it's time I say something about it. It started casually enough. I was just gonna try it and see what it was like. All my friends were doing it. But once became twice and twice became four times a week and it's been going on like this for months.

I'm talking about Canon City Community Fitness. My friend, Ian, started this gym last year. I was skeptical at first because Ian is one of those guys that we normal people call "fitness crazy." He LOVES to work out. He LOVES to run for pete's sake. And he LOVES to talk about working out and running. Um...just so you don't get the wrong idea...he's also a really super cool guy who loves Jesus and loves on kids as a young life leader. And he happens to be married to one of my very best friends, and he is one of Loren's very best friends, so you know he's totally rad.

Anyway...he started this crossfit type gym. Don't worry if you don't know what that means. We can't all be like Ian. The general idea is that you come, during any of the 7 classes offered every day (or all of them if you're crazy), and are personally coached through a 15-20 minute workout (sometimes a little longer, sometimes a little shorter) that is different every day. One day you might be lifting weights and doing pull ups. Another day you might be running and doing push ups. One day you might be doing all of those things in a dreaded 20 minute AMRAP (As Many Rounds As Possible). But EVERYDAY, you are guaranteed to be working your butt off.

I don't look like a completely different person. I have lost some inches and a pants size (or 2) and gained some muscle definition that I'm proud of (I do look a little different!). But, here's why I'm crazy about it. All of the sudden, I love to exercise. I look forward to working out hard and collapsing at the end of it. And that, my friends, is kind of a miracle. Because I was always that girl who felt the pressure to exercise and ALWAYS hated it. And because somehow, Ian has taken something that I needed to do but didn't want to do and made it something that I love to do.

Wanna hear another miracle? I don't blink an eye anymore when Ian tells me we have to do 150 burpees or double unders. I just go to work. And I leave there sweaty and gross and barely able to breath and also a little smiley and proud of the way my new, more fit body can endure such torture.

So...I'll say it. I LOVE TO EXERCISE! Oh my.....I've become one of those girls.