I am always so grateful for the lessons I learn from my children. When I really reflect and think about how my children are with me and how they are in the world I really understand what Jesus meant when he called us to be like children.
It Is By Faith:
This morning as we were in the mad dash to get ready for church, for some reason Sunday mornings are always harder to get out the door on time, I was at my bedroom vanity swiping on lip gloss when I heard Mama B in the next room crying. Any mom knows the different types of cries of their children; the fake, the irritated, the attention seeking, the overly stimulated, overly tired, etc. But our heart always races a bit faster when we hear the cry of pain, of real pain. I quickly entered her bedroom and found that Little Man had pushed a basket of laundry into her room, they were trying to use the basket as leverage to hoist themselves into her crib. Somehow Mama B had cut her little toe on the weaving of the plastic basket.
It Is By Faith:
This morning as we were in the mad dash to get ready for church, for some reason Sunday mornings are always harder to get out the door on time, I was at my bedroom vanity swiping on lip gloss when I heard Mama B in the next room crying. Any mom knows the different types of cries of their children; the fake, the irritated, the attention seeking, the overly stimulated, overly tired, etc. But our heart always races a bit faster when we hear the cry of pain, of real pain. I quickly entered her bedroom and found that Little Man had pushed a basket of laundry into her room, they were trying to use the basket as leverage to hoist themselves into her crib. Somehow Mama B had cut her little toe on the weaving of the plastic basket.
I swept her up and searched all over, not really sure where the pain may be coming from. Like a trained EMT a Mama does the once over, check for blood, check for broken bones and then move down the list of possible injuries obtained through whatever activity they were engaged in. I found the toe and asked her if she was okay. "No" she whimpered. "Do you want me to kiss it and make it better?" I ask and very sweetly kissed her booboo. "Dank you" she hiccuped as she rubbed her eyes. I put her down and took the basket at of the room and dolled out my Mom warning, "You need to be more careful next time. These baskets are not to be played with."
As I scurried them out of the room and shut the door I went back to getting ready and marveled to myself the power of a healing kiss from Mama. Now I know that little cut piggie didn't hurt any less after I kissed it. I know that it hurt just as it did before, but as I heard her giggle and play with her brother completely unaware of her toe anymore I thought, how amazing kisses are. I have seen some genuinely painful cuts and bruises healed immediately by a kiss.
It wont be long before my kisses wont work anymore, maybe she'll play a long for a while not having the heart to tell me that my kisses don't make a difference to her owie, but they do somehow work for a period of time. I think of the ones that Jesus healed and how he often made the remark as he did his works, it is by your faith that you are healed. It is in the act of faith that the healing takes place. He didn't have a special potion or saying or ritual or special power to heal, he even told the disciples that they too were capable of healing, because it was by the faith of the afflicted that the healing was possible. I think we forget that often, our faith is the first essential step in healing, the without-a-doubt belief that we can be healed, that our problems can be overcome, that we have the strength to get through a difficult time. My daughter honestly believes that my kiss will take the pain away and make it all better. What a beautiful faith.
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I Want My Sippy Cup:
So today I had a bit of an epiphany. I have had some very low moments the past couple of days. I feel a little like I'm going slightly insane. I bounce from solid faith to bumbling panicky stress ball in about 3 seconds flat and then bounce back to happy got-it-together mom. My kids probably think I've lost it. So today, after an exceptionally low moment I decided to get out of the house. I was out of milk and we needed some fresh air so I packed up the car, grabbed a few snacks and and put the kiddo's in their car seats.
As I put Mama B into her seat in the arm rest was a Sippy-Cup full of stale water. She immediate grabbed it and I took it from her. She started to have a melt down. I tried to explain to her that the water was yucky, but she grabbed onto it for dear life. All she knew was that Sippy Cup was there and so whatever was in it she wanted. She saw it, felt it in her hand and it was real. As I was trying to pry it from her little vice grip I was telling her I had something better for her but she wouldn't listen. She was beyond reason, she was kicking and crying. Once I finally got the cup I quickly took it out of sight and with a big "ta-dah" I pulled out a cold box of apple juice. Her face immediately lit up and she thanked me over and over again. I poked the straw through the top and handed her the juice box. She relished it. I stroked her hair back from her head and I very seriously looked in her eyes and said, "Baby girl, you have to trust me. Don't you know Mommy always has a reason for things, I will always give you better things." She nodded, I'm sure just to make me happy, and very eagerly and very joyously downed her juice box.
I sat in the driver seat, my keys in the ignition and my hands gripping the steering wheel. How many times do I fight for stale water? How often do I fight for what is tangible because its the only thing I know? How often, I wondered, is God telling me; "Baby girl just let go! Trust me I have something better for you." I prayed right then and told him I surrender to his will. I felt suddenly the worry and angst that had gripped me slip away. I was so worried about things that were so beyond my capacity to do anything about. He has a much better gift for me that I can't see waiting. I let go.
It wont be long before my kisses wont work anymore, maybe she'll play a long for a while not having the heart to tell me that my kisses don't make a difference to her owie, but they do somehow work for a period of time. I think of the ones that Jesus healed and how he often made the remark as he did his works, it is by your faith that you are healed. It is in the act of faith that the healing takes place. He didn't have a special potion or saying or ritual or special power to heal, he even told the disciples that they too were capable of healing, because it was by the faith of the afflicted that the healing was possible. I think we forget that often, our faith is the first essential step in healing, the without-a-doubt belief that we can be healed, that our problems can be overcome, that we have the strength to get through a difficult time. My daughter honestly believes that my kiss will take the pain away and make it all better. What a beautiful faith.
photo link
I Want My Sippy Cup:
So today I had a bit of an epiphany. I have had some very low moments the past couple of days. I feel a little like I'm going slightly insane. I bounce from solid faith to bumbling panicky stress ball in about 3 seconds flat and then bounce back to happy got-it-together mom. My kids probably think I've lost it. So today, after an exceptionally low moment I decided to get out of the house. I was out of milk and we needed some fresh air so I packed up the car, grabbed a few snacks and and put the kiddo's in their car seats.
As I put Mama B into her seat in the arm rest was a Sippy-Cup full of stale water. She immediate grabbed it and I took it from her. She started to have a melt down. I tried to explain to her that the water was yucky, but she grabbed onto it for dear life. All she knew was that Sippy Cup was there and so whatever was in it she wanted. She saw it, felt it in her hand and it was real. As I was trying to pry it from her little vice grip I was telling her I had something better for her but she wouldn't listen. She was beyond reason, she was kicking and crying. Once I finally got the cup I quickly took it out of sight and with a big "ta-dah" I pulled out a cold box of apple juice. Her face immediately lit up and she thanked me over and over again. I poked the straw through the top and handed her the juice box. She relished it. I stroked her hair back from her head and I very seriously looked in her eyes and said, "Baby girl, you have to trust me. Don't you know Mommy always has a reason for things, I will always give you better things." She nodded, I'm sure just to make me happy, and very eagerly and very joyously downed her juice box.
I sat in the driver seat, my keys in the ignition and my hands gripping the steering wheel. How many times do I fight for stale water? How often do I fight for what is tangible because its the only thing I know? How often, I wondered, is God telling me; "Baby girl just let go! Trust me I have something better for you." I prayed right then and told him I surrender to his will. I felt suddenly the worry and angst that had gripped me slip away. I was so worried about things that were so beyond my capacity to do anything about. He has a much better gift for me that I can't see waiting. I let go.
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