When I pray I don’t use big words.  When God teaches me things, they usually aren’t theologically heavy ideas.  When I read my Bible (or anything, for that matter), my understanding is generally limited to the words on the page.  And often I end up feeling like I must be missing something.  Because I hear other people praying or preaching or singing about ideas that just don’t make any sense to me.  There are metaphors and exhortations and petitions that sound lovely…but I just don’t understand what they mean.

What I do understand?  Some examples…

God is good and holy and powerful.

I am sinful and weak and selfish and lots of other one word descriptors that are easy to grasp.

I need Jesus.

God loves me.

God is bigger than any problem I could have.

God wants to be glorified.

I need to trust Him.

God’s Word is truth.

God is enough for me.

Every.single.one. of my sins were paid for on the cross.

God hears my prayers.

They are simple ideas, in a lot of ways.  Maybe others would express the same ideas with words that demonstrate a lot more thought or study or revelation.  Maybe my understanding of spiritual matters just doesn’t go very deep.  I honestly don’t know.  But, since God seems able and willing to find ways teach me in my simplicity, I will be content to let Him.

You are my breath, my life, my heartbeat

You are my strength, the rock beneath my feet

You are my hope and joy and perfect peace

You are the Giver of grace that covers me

You are the light to all my darkened paths

You are the One who holds my spirit fast

You are the Name I call out in my need

You are the voice that calms my stormy seas

You are the sacrifice that made me free

You are my vision when I cannot see

You are my healer, guide, Father and friend

And I love You, Lord.

That’s all. 

The end.

Today, Elijah is 3.

He is smart and silly and defiant and sensitive and helpful.

We have battles over meals and naps and fussing and clothes.

He struggled when Ava made her entrance into the family.

He loves to sit close and request (demand?) an “arm” (around him) and sing Jesus Loves Me.

When he gets hurt, or when he doesn’t feel good, he asks “pray it?”…and when someone else is hurt, he offers to pray for them.

He wants to be a big kid, but wants to still be the baby, too…I guess it’s the internal battle every 3 year old faces.

He loves his baby sister, telling me all the time how beautiful and adorable and precious she is, and how much he loves her.

He likes to randomly go visit his Daddy at work (aka, his office in the attic), and Daddy has a particular soft spot for this little boy.

When the big kids are at Friday school, we mostly snuggle and watch Scooby-Doo.

During our family devotions, his eager response to any question that is asked is always “Jesus came down and died on the cross”.  I’m glad he’s getting the basics figured out ;).

He often says “I love you, too, Mommy” out of the blue.

He is adored by his siblings.

He makes me laugh a lot.

There is so much tenderness and affection and zeal for life in Elijah.  And though he has occasionally corrected us lately, saying “I’m not buddy, I’m ‘wijah”, I’m not in any hurry to abandon his simple nickname that so aptly describes our favorite littlest boy.  And today we celebrated him and the joy he has been to our hearts and the life he has before him.  Happy Birthday, Buddy…we love you so, so much!

It occurred to me as I was rocking Ava this afternoon with tears streaming down my face, feeling alone and overwhelmed, that it was not an entirely unfamiliar feeling.  I remember, 3 months after Nathanael was born, having a complete meltdown because the Christmas cards I was making were not finished by the time I thought I needed them done.    If either of these instances had happened in the first few weeks postpartum, I would have immediately chalked it up to hormones…it’s happened after each birth (and miscarriage).  I sort of expect it and while it isn’t fun, at least I know why.

With Ava, I thought I somehow got out of the whole emotional mess that typically follows birth.  When my hair started coming out in handfuls a week or two ago, though, I should have realized what was coming.  My postpartum hair loss normally starts right away, too, so when it proved to have merely been delayed, rather than avoided altogether, I should have been prepared for what was to come. It seems that the baby blues have caught up with me.

So, with the realization that my tears and heartache might be just a teensy bit magnified, I determined to ignore them to the best of my ability, and set about fixing my thoughts on Jesus.  It’s certainly not the most fun, but I know it will pass and I’m thankful for a God who carries me through my weakness.

Lately…

…our washing machine is now in its permanent place next to our dryer.  This is very exciting for me.

…my attitude has been bad.  Sometimes I can’t seem to get my perspective right.  I wish I knew why.

…Christmas decorations are up, presents are purchased, wrapped, and under the tree…but I have little excitement about this season.  I just want it all over.  I don’t find joy in tradition or trappings or celebration.  This is a relatively new realization.  I’m still trying to sort out the good and bad of it.

…God is teaching me things.  I wish I could write about those things, but every time I try, my words sound hollow.  I wonder what that means…

…my children are unruly, restless, prone to foolishness.  It would be easier to address those issues in them if I didn’t possess them myself.  I lean heavily on God’s mercy these days.

…Ava has been very needy the last week or so.  Mostly just awake a lot and expecting to be held by me.  When I am already feeling like life is getting the best (or worst?) of me, this doesn’t help.  I just try to remind myself that most of the things that are not getting done are not really urgent anyway.  Sometimes the reminders help.

…I can’t imagine what my life would look like right now if Ava wasn’t generally a super easy baby.

…a year ago I could run 3-4 miles, now I can run about 1.5 miles.  I know having a new baby is a good reason, but it is easy to be discouraged nonetheless.

Though the fig tree may not blossom, Nor fruit be on the vines; Though the labor of the olive may fail, And the fields yield no food; Though the flock may be cut off from the fold, And there be no herd in the stalls– Yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation. The Lord God is my strength; He will make my feet like deer’s feet, And He will make me walk on my high hills.  —Habakkuk 3:17-19

What has God been teaching me lately?  Mostly, I think, that my perceptions don’t matter, that the perceptions of others don’t matter, that His is the only opinion, perception, perspective…whatever…that really matters.  When I think about this, it makes me want to raise a bit of a defense.  To my ears, it sounds a lot like saying that people don’t matter.  It sounds like an excuse to give in to my temptation to not care about people. But it isn’t.  Actually, it ends up being quite the opposite…perhaps to the chagrin of my carnal self.  It means that when God tells me to do something, I don’t get to care how someone else will see it.  I don’t get to over-analyze and come up with all of the ways that I could come out looking like a fool…or if I do the analysis, it can’t matter.  I had a conversation with God the other day that went something like this.

Me: “God, I did what you told me to do and it didn’t matter.”

God: “It did matter to me.”

That was it.  Not much of a conversation, but enough to make me think.  It reminded me of whose opinion is most important.  It reminded me how necessary it is that I recognize His voice.  It reminded me that my perceptions can be flawed.  I don’t know the end from the beginning of any situation.  I need to trust Him and only be concerned with how He sees me.

Today…

…everyone slept until 9am.  Now if I could just explain why I still feel exhausted…

…Ava was awake for about an hour, then went back to sleep until 2pm…but not before spitting up all over me.  I think maybe she’s not feeling the greatest.

…I got all of the ingredients for chili thrown into the crockpot before noon, only to realize just before 3 that I never plugged it in.  Huh.

…I ate 3 cookies for lunch.  I gave my kids veggies.

…Tim mentioned the possibility of getting our kids a Wii for Christmas (I know, I know…we are so far behind with anything technological).  I don’t love video games, but I’m trying to be objective.  It’s hard.  But it would make shopping easier.

…I folded 3 loads of laundry.  I actually kind of like folding laundry.  Putting it away is a different story, though.

…I have a slight headache.  Nothing debilitating, just enough to sap motivation.  I guess that’s okay, though.  My baby girl is wanting to be held, anyway.

…I am living in a bit of denial that Christmas is less than 3 weeks away.

…Ava is 3 months old today.  And I have been so blessed by her in those 3 months.

…and, finally, a verse – because it showed up twice in my devotional time this morning

But as for me, I will always have hope; I will praise You more and more.  My mouth will tell of Your righteousness, of Your salvation all day long, though I know not its measure. —Psalm 71:14-15

Some days my heart just hurts.  I feel strongly the weight of living in a fallen world, pressing down on me from within and without.  This doesn’t normally happen on days when trials are obvious and my defenses are up, but rather on almost-there days.  The days when a part of me thinks that maybe I’ve been wrong about my perceptions…maybe my earthly hopes are not in vain…maybe it’s okay to open my heart a little – these are the days I am reminded of why I stay in my corner, hiding.

It hurts to realize, again, that there’s nothing more for me in those places I most want to find something.  It hurts to not understand why.  It’s hard to understand the discord between what will one day be for eternity and what is for now.  It’s hard to cling to promises in the face of disappointment.

It makes me want to curl up and cry and ask God to change things…and sometimes I do…but I am learning, too, that even though life hurts, God is still good to me.  His heart is for me, and I can trust my heart in His hands.  When I can’t see a light in my circumstances, I have hope in Him.  It doesn’t always feel like enough.  But it is.  It is always enough.