Happy Father's Day

Click here to view our daughter's father's day tribute!

The legacy of this moment

Many months ago, when my daughter was very tiny, everyone kept telling me, "It goes fast!"  I made up my mind to treasure each moment as it happened so that I wouldn't regret missing those moments later.  Now, 21 months have gone by, and I really don't feel nostalgic, because I did treasure those moments, I gave her my best then, and now there are new moments to treasure and in which to give my best.  

Even still, sometimes I shake my head in amazement at how deceptively fast the seemingly endless similar days go by.  Just a few days ago - or was it a month ago? - I remember a moment when I was rocking my daughter.  It was a special moment in the same way that most of the moments are special - nothing out of the ordinary happened, but I was very deeply treasuring wrapping her in maternal warmth and security.  And I had the thought - tomorrow it will be gone.  And now it is past many days over... but not entirely.  There is something that is left.  

There is a legacy of each moment that remains with us forever.  In that moment I gave my daughter the gift of resting securely in the arms of her loving mommy, and that became a part of who she became in the next moment, and the next, and the next, and it remains a part of her in this moment.  Of course, that is not the only moment that has become a part of her - every hug, every lullaby, every nutritious meal, every rubbing on of sunscreen, every endless hour spent playing tea party, every laugh and every cry, every decision for patience and every loss of temper - these moments may be gone, but she, the living person, is their lasting legacy.  

In your life, what will the legacy of this moment be?  I've started asking myself this at random moments throughout the day, and it has been tremendously helpful in keeping me focused.

Pure heart, good conscience, and sincere faith

As a young mom, there are so many things I want my child grow in learning - potty training, ABC's,  social skills, etc.  But today I came across a verse that brought me back into focus:  

"But the aim of such instruction is love that comes from a pure heart, a good conscience, and sincere faith."  - 1 Timothy 1:5.

And I remembered - That is what I want for my daughter- a pure heart, a good conscience, and sincere faith, overflowing in love.  I plastered the verse all over her playroom to remind myself.

Generations: Toledot and the book of Genesis

I was 3 months pregnant and on my way to the doctor's office for a check up.  A song came on the radio, with the lyrics, "I AM the one who knew you before your birth, before you were..."  Such statements have always amazed me.  God knew me before I was?  I've always found great joy in that thought.  But on this day, as I was thinking instead about my yet-to-be-born daughter in my womb, the thought floated across my brain, "Umm, no, she exists because of me and my husband."  It was unbelievably mind-blowing in that moment for me to grasp that God had forever known and planned my yet-to-be daughter's existence while I also considered the precariousness of conception, pregnancy, and delivery.  Maybe it shouldn't have so startled me, but it did.  

Then she was born, and God let me know her.  Day by day we laugh, sing, dance, and grow together, and in the process it is tempting to think that I am the one making her into who she will become, because, well, I am certainly a big part of it.  But it is crazy to also consider that who she is and who she is becoming has always been known and planned by God, that God foresaw all of this, that God has woven who she is into his beautiful plan for all of creation.  

     

In the beginning was God, and God began to create.  On day one God made light.  On day two, the sky.  For seven days God performed each work in its own time, and the Hebrew word used to describe each of these works is toledot, often translated "generations":  "These are the generations (toledot) of the heavens and the earth in their creation" (Genesis 2:4).  Toledot is the same word used in the rest of Genesis for the "generations" of humans.  It is mind-blowing for me to consider that my daughter is next in line in the unfolding of creation, that her life is a part of the next piece accomplished in its time, which is now.  

The Bible seems to be very mysterious when it comes to matters of free will and predestination, and the apparent precariousness of life highlights the tension between the two within my mind.  But I find it to be a good check to myself in my parenting to remember that this precious little girl first was God's idea.  That God chose me as one of her co-creators.  That God sees and knows and understands fully her destiny and has done so since before she was a glint in my imagination.  That my daughter's creation is being accomplished in its own time, as a part of God's beautifully orchestrated creation that continues its journey on to completion.

Learning from African Perspectives on Motherhood

"If I no sleep, my mother no sleep.  If I no chop, my mother no de chop.  She no de taya aa, sweet mother, I no forget the suffer way you suffer for me" (Nico Mbarga, "Sweet Mother").  

Being a good mom isn't that different from being a good pastor.

In her article "Abiyamo: Theorizing African Motherhood," Oyeronke Oyewumi notes that Western cultures such as ours often view the mother as "trapped in her primary role as caregiver."  I see this everywhere.  Our culture is forever offering me sympathy for my plight (this starts early - "Are you sleeping?"), hope for the bright day when my daughter starts school  ("You'll get your life back when your child starts school..."), and encouragement for me to take what is surely a deeply-needed break from my child as often as possible now ("Did you know there is daycare provided?"  "Why don't you ask a church member to watch your daughter once or twice a week so that you can get more done?").  All of this is very well-intended.  

But other cultures' understandings of motherhood confront me with the limitations of our own.  It is true that being a mother is demanding and difficult.  But this is not all that motherhood is.  Mothers are great life-givers.  Mothers exercise tremendous influence over their offspring and thus over society as a whole.  Mothers are every human being's first home.  They are the first relationship every human ever experiences, for better or worse.  In Yoruba culture, motherhood is viewed not as a temporary situation for the woman of a baby, trapped until she can return to doing what she really wants, but as a lifelong gift.  

I think our culture's perspective on motherhood feeds off of the way in which our culture nurtures the value of self-centeredness in all of us, mothers or not.  We call it "independence," but what we really mean is that we believe it is enslavement to be in a situation in which we have to give up our own needs and sense of entitlement moment by moment to care for another in the way of Jesus.  Thank God that he doesn't value his "independence" as much as we do.  

I am happiest as a mom when I am surrounded by people who believe that what I am doing in being a mother is valuable, when the benefit to the child and thus to the world is emphasized, when the cost is taken as a given not to be avoided but as something that must, for the sake of the child and the world, be embraced.  I believe this is true not only for mothers but for all persons called to live of life of sacrificial service for others.  

Next time you encounter a mother with a small child, please offer a word of joy and delight for the great benefit of her sacrificial service.

Staying with Mom Instead of Childcare

I just spent the past several days at Annual Conference for my denomination.  It was such a helpful time for me as a mother.  Our culture encourages mothers to leave their children in childcare for the sake of giving the moms a break to do other things.  And so, at this conference, there was childcare provided.  And it was really excellent childcare.  The woman in charge was herself the mother of three, and she was fabulous with children.  The rest of the workers were very attentive and loving.  There were activities for the children to do throughout the day, food to eat, pillows for comfortable nap times, and even a special devotional time.  It was great.  But I didn't leave my daughter there.  I took her, but I stayed with her.  

Imagine that your entire family is going on a trip to visit a new land you have never been to.  Once you get there, you are surrounded by new people... and then you turn around and discover your husband, your wife, your siblings, your children, they disappeared when you weren't looking.  Ughh.  How would you feel?  Add to that the fact that you are at a stage in life in which being with your family means everything to you, in which things feel right when you are with them and wrong when you are not.  This isn't the case at all stages of life.  A teenager equivalent to the experience of a toddler being left by his mommy with strangers would probably look more like having his/her clique of friends from school disappear at a party.  But whatever the case, I just couldn't bring myself to do this to my daughter.  

When my daughter was five weeks old, a friend of mine asked me, "Now, what do you think you should do when your baby is crying uncontrollably in the back seat of the car and you still have a long way to go?"  I replied, "Umm, turn up the radio and ignore her?"  My friend taught me how to get in touch with the part of me that would not want to do that.  And today, on our way home from the conference, I sat in the backseat with my daughter feeding her Cheerios, reading her books, and singing and signing songs.  I've come a long way.

I know that childcare is an important thing - there really are moms who absolutely need it for financial reasons and such.  And sometimes there is no alternative but for a child to cry in the car.  But often, if we are honest, we who are nurtured in this easiest-is-best culture are inclined to use these methods just because we are worn out and it feels easier to do so in the moment.   But often the best way - not just for the child, but I believe for the mother - is the way of the cross, choosing to die.  My daughter and I stayed together for the entire conference.  The entire weekend was mentally and physically challenging for me as I cared for my daughter 24 hours a day without the comforts of routine and home, and in an environment that required constant vigilance as she was constantly in danger of disappearing from sight in the huge hotel.  But the rewards were priceless.  I don't even know if I could do justice to them in just a few words.  Suffice it to say that our bond grew seven-fold these past 3 days, I am more capable of focusing upon her than ever, she is even more confident and secure, and my maternal warmth has doubled.  

Life is Tenacious

The other day my husband, daughter, and I went on a hike in the mountains.  At one point we got lost, and we were just wandering through the mountain.  It was breathtaking.  I had never been off-trail before - this was my very first experience really being in the deep of nature.  The fresh moss and grass padded our feet.  The high, arching branches shaded us from the sun.  The gentle breeze constantly refreshed us.  There was a constant variety to the scenery - sometimes lots of leaves on the ground, sometimes rocky terrain.  Sometimes the climb was so steep I had to use all four limbs, but there would be a level grassy area, giving our muscles a break.  "This is a human's natural habitat," I realized at one point as I sat down and watched a rush of wind make the trees dance.  We weren't created to live walking on hot, mercilessly glaring concrete with radios blasting.  This was home.  I would have no idea how to live in a home like that, but I felt so much more human there.  

Today I had to drive some distance.  In my car, on the road, I felt a pain as I drove over the slab of concrete that pressed itself upon the ground.  It felt like a bruise upon the earth.  I am overwhelmed when I think about the extent of how out of touch we are as humans with the good habitat that God created for us.  It hurts.  It hurts us.  The Bible begins, continues, and ends with the story of how God wills the existence of life - abundant life.  And the Bible also constantly describes how humans are constantly throwing a slab of concrete over the places where life - our own lives - should be.  I feel this at work in my own heart.  Years of living in a world full of sinful people who have hurt me.  Years of living as a sinful person who has hurt others.  There are places in my brain and my heart where instead of abundant life and life-giving fruit there is nothing but concrete pressing itself down upon my soul.  The forces of death and destruction are overwhelming.  And yet, what would happen if a road was left all alone for a time?  After awhile, life would break through it.  The concrete would crack and separate, and up would sprout plants.  Life is tenacious.  As overwhelming as the concrete is, it is a mistake to underestimate the power of life.

And so I pray today that God, the Creator of all, the One who so loves life that He made it so tenacious, the One who so loves life that He sent His Son to conquer death once and for all, that the great and glorious Living One Who Is would cause life to break through the concrete that has sadly been laid over our own hearts.  That life would spring up from the ground in our own soul in ever more abundant ways.  That we would know the abundant life for which we were created.  That we would experience being truly human, in the image of the living God himself.  O God, I know were are not at all worthy of this, but I pray that you would glorify yourself through us anyway.  Amen.