Does patience exist?

Chesterton makes the observation that single virtues, when separated from all the others, are as unhelpful and mad as vices.  For example, truthfulness without charity and patience can run violent.  Likewise, charity without truthfulness and patience is a failure to love sincerely and well. I remember studying the fruit of the Spirit, and one Bible study writer noted it is the fruit (singular) not fruits (plural).  At the time I thought the distinction was probably irrelevant, but in light of Chesterton's comment I am inclined to rethink my position.  It makes sense that the life that is born from the Holy Spirit is one that reflects God's nature more and more, and this reflected nature, which is one, has many characteristics.  

As a mom, I often make resolutions, like "Today I am going to be more patient if my daughter takes forever to go to sleep," or "Today I am going to take great joy in the work God has given me."  But at best I am generally only able to conjure up the patience or joy or whatever for about 15 minute spurts, if that long.  This is sometimes the case even on days when I've had a really great prayer time.  

I wonder if part of the problem is that things like patience or joy simply are not entities to be had.  I cannot get more patience without also growing in truthfulness and kindness and hope, because patience in itself does not exist.  The Holy Spirit is the entity that exists - the Holy Spirit is the one to be "had" - and these are characteristics of that Spirit.  And so instead of hoping and praying for more peace or kindness or self-control or name the prayer, I'm thinking it would be more effective to focus upon praying for and submitting to more and more of God's Spirit.

Knowing God

I use to be able to do a lot of things I can't do anymore now that I'm a mom.  I use to lead Bible studies and clean up the church.  I use to spend hours upon hours studying Scripture daily.  I even spent years working on graduate degrees in order to eventually reach thousands of students with deeper and fuller knowledge of the Word of God and thus touch the world in a hopefully profound way for Christ.  Now when I think about all that is not getting done, I feel torn.  All these things I did - they were really good things.  It is scandalous to think that one little baby could be more important than all those people I could be reaching.  But every so often God gently touches me with the truth that my love for this baby is the outcome of living into His image.  Today the message came to me in an unfamiliar hymn I stumbled upon.  It's speaking about Jesus, but I see in it my life as I live the life of a mother, as well:

Open are the gifts of God, gifts of love to mind and sense; 

hidden is love's agony, love's endeavor, love's expense.

Love that gives, gives evermore, gives with zeal, with eager hands;

spares not, keeps not, all outpours, ventures all, its all expends.

Drained is love in making full, bound in setting others free,

poor in making many rich, weak in giving power to be.

Therefore he who shows us God helpless hangs upon the tree,

and the nails and crown of thorns tell of what God's love must be.

(UMH 194, verses 2-5)

Itchy Sin

My daughter has a rash all over her belly and on her wrist and ankle.  It is so pitiful.  We can't seem to make it go away.  And it bothers her so much that of course she scratches it.  I say, "Don't scratch it!" and she does a remarkable job for a 22 month old at resisting the scratching temptation.  But it just itches so much...

I once heard someone make the astute observation that sin gives you the best it has to offer right up front, and then it's all downhill from there.  

It seems to me that the moment of giving into temptation is a lot like scratching a persistent itch - you want to scratch it, you want to, you want to, and finally you give in and do it.  And, wow, for one glorious half millisecond it feels so good.  But then it itches even more than before, hurts even worse than before, and turns even redder and more swollen than before.  

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.