Don't you see that children are God’s best gift?
the fruit of the womb his generous legacy?
Like a warrior’s fistful of arrows
are the children of a vigorous youth.
Oh, how blessed are you parents,
with your quivers full of children!
Your enemies don’t stand a chance against you;
you’ll sweep them right off your doorstep.
- Psalms 127:3-5, The Message Bible
My newest nephew was born yesterday. It's probably the last one on this side of the family, which made the experience of holding that new bundle of love especially poignant.
A generation of children have been born to me and my siblings.
A generation of grandchildren have been added to my parents' family tree.
A quiver full of arrows flying out into the world, bringing the Kingdom to hungry hearts.
Oh, the privilege of being a link in the chain. From one generation to the next. Ceilings becoming floors and batons being passed right down the track to the finish line.
The sacred privilege of learning from the ones who came before, adding to it measure upon measure, and investing it into the ones who come after.
Let not my heart take it for granted.
Dear Beautiful One,
I don't know you yet, but I look forward to meeting you. I have been working hard for years to prepare for your entrance into our family. You have been in my prayers for going on two decades now, and always will be.
I've told my son so many times that choosing you would be the single most important decision of his life, apart from choosing to follow Jesus. He giggled when he was little when I would talk about these things, but he's begun to be aware enough of the passage of time that he nods his head now, listening.
There are so many things I wish you could see, right here, in this time and place. I wish you could see them because I've longed to see the same things in my own husband's life. To see him as an infant, looking so much like his big brother. To see him as a child, running free. To see him as a teenager, figuring out this whole thing called life.
But, you can't see them. You'll have to trust me.
He's the most amazing young man you'd ever be privileged to know.
He's incredible.
Not to say he doesn't have some quirks we're working on (who doesn't?), but even those are adorable, at least to this mama.
And there are some things being this boy's mom has taught me that I want to share, things that would have been helpful to know about a man when I said, "I do," but somehow didn't come clear until I was responsible for nurturing a boy.
I hope you can receive them from my heart to yours, with love and tender hope that you and this child of mine can make your home a place of peace and a jungle of joy.
1. You won't ever completely figure out how a man thinks. You were created differently. Just embrace that.
2. The longer you're with him, the more grateful you'll be that he thinks differently than you. It's the balance that makes marriage work.
3. Guys are messy. They don't mean it to be extra work for you, they just don't see the mess the way you do. When you need his help to clean up, ask him. He knows how, I've seen to that---so just smile and ask for the help. And when he helps, thank him sincerely. No, he might not always notice what you do to thank you for it in return, but he does appreciate you.
4. He also may not notice every time you do something new or different to your hair. If he doesn't, stand in front of him and cough several times. I've trained him to pay attention when he hears coughing.
5. He won't parent the way you do. It's important for you to have the same basic plan, but allow him to be the dad. Kids need both.
6. He thrives on affirmation. Respect who he is and tell him often why you respect him. You'll be happier married to a man who is secure in your respect than one you've torn down with criticism.
7. Don't expect him to know how to handle your tears. He'll probably always feel a little awkward about them. Don't worry about it. He'll get over it.
8. When he buys you something, don't take it back, even if it's not your favorite. A gift is like a love note; you don't hand them back, you treasure them.
9. Men need spontaneity and fun in their lives, in every area. Make sure you don't take yourself too seriously--joy can be found in the tiny spaces of life if you'll let it.
10. You are his greatest treasure, a costly jewel above all price. He adores you. Live your life assuming that everything he does is with the intention of blessing you.
With all my love and yet another prayer,
Your Future Mother-In-Law
Last Saturday, the kids were grouchy. It just happens sometimes.
Daddy was out of town.
They had to do chores.
My daughter told me she needed to cry and didn't know why. I told her sometimes girls just need a good cry, to which she responded, "Does that ever happen to you, Mama?"
The boys had been looking forward to watching their favorite football team play, only to watch them get beaten so soundly the punter needed an ice bath after the game.
The youngest two argued over something trivial.
The oldest two couldn't seem to get interested in anything other than video games.
It didn't take a genius to see that the atmosphere in my home needed to change. And I realized I'm responsible for that. Parents are the CEOs of the home when it comes to setting atmosphere. If we don't like what's going on in our children, it's our responsibility to find out where the negativity is coming in and close that door. If there is nothing positive happening, it's our responsibility to open the doors of change.
So, I told the kids to get their shoes on. We were leaving. And we backed out of the driveway and drove off into adventure.
We got a treat.
We ate it at the park.
We rode bikes.
We played football.
We got the makings of a cheap picnic dinner at the supermarket.
We ate it at the lake.
We fed ducks.
We found shells.
We laughed.
We came home only after it was dark.
And as all four of my children got ready for bed, they each found a moment on their own to thank me for taking the time together.
I went to bed so grateful for the joy in my house, but as I crawled under the covers, I was humbled by the realization of the influence I have in my own home. No, I can't always take my children out for a fun adventure every time they're grumpy. And I might not always be able to "fix" their problems, when life throws curve balls a whole lot worse than disappointment over a lost game.
But, I can pay attention.
I can "know the state of my flock" (Proverbs 27:23) and realize when change is needed.
I can pray.
I can encourage.
I can open those doors of new opportunity.
I can look beyond my own to-do list and minister to the heart needs in my home.
I can engage.
And I know there will be times that the atmosphere doesn't change right away. But, it can change.
And I can be the one who initiates it, with the occasional help of a duck.
With four children entrusted to my care, I spend a lot of my time teaching. How to tie shoes. How to ride a bike. How to drive a car. How to match your clothes. How to start the dishwasher.
The list goes on and on, right into the more important things.
How to forgive. How to use your words to bless. How to pray. How to stop gossip. How to strengthen yourself in the Lord.
I've been teaching these precious ones for fifteen years now, so I'm comfortable in my role as teacher. I'm not always so comfortable in my role as student.
And that's where I found myself this week, as my son became the teacher.
It was Sunday evening and we were about to have thirty people making s'mores in our backyard for an end of the season softball party. I was running behind in my preparations and feeling the crunch. Somewhere in the midst of opening dozens of chocolate wrappers, my second son asked what was for dinner. My response was less than gracious.
"It's Sunday night. I don't cook on Sunday nights. Just eat whatever you find in the fridge."
There was a long pause as he rummaged around in the fridge, then the freezer. Pulling out a box of frozen taquitos, he asked how long he would need to warm them up.
I mumbled something in reply about that not being the easiest thing he could have chosen.
"What?" he asked me, leaning forward to try to catch my eyes.
"Nothing," I said, turning away from him, "Just follow the directions and do it quick so we can clean up the kitchen."
Definitely not an award-winning mommy moment. And then, when the overpowing smell of taquitos filled the kitchen a few minutes later, it got worse.
"Great," I muttered loud enough for him to hear, "Just what I needed--that weird smell greeting our guests when they arrive."
My thirteen year old leaned forward once more, caught my gaze, and calmy said, "Mom, if you wanted to grump about that, you should have done it three minutes ago when I asked you what I should eat."
I looked at those sincere eyes, eyes that didn't hold one trace of disrespect, and burst out laughing.
He was so insanely and completely right.
And I was so in the wrong.
I apologized. He accepted, smiled, and moved on to eat his taquitos, clean up after himself, and then ask how he could help me get ready for the party.
I realized later as I mulled it over that my teaching is working.
I've invested hours and hours of my time teaching my children how to address conflict while still honoring the other person.
I've had countless coversations with them about how to recognize emotional manipulation and how to refrain from bowing to its yoke.
I've poured into them the skills and words it's going to take for them to navigate the waters of taking responsibility for what is yours, but not picking up false responsibility for what others do or say that you can not change.
And they're learning. They're learning well. They're learning so well that my son handled my irritation and impatience with a grace that can only come from someone who has come to value and fight for right relationships in his home.
And I've never been prouder as a mother, even if I won't be buying taquitos anymore.
I had dinner under the stars last night. It was a beautiful evening, with just the right amount of crisp, October air to warrant wearing my stylish new trench coat. I sat and dined with my husband and a couple of close friends, eating gourmet dishes from an amazing local caterer. It was a benefit dinner, so as I waited for my dessert and coffee, I listened.
I listened to a young man tell his story. A story about hearing God's voice at the age of 19 telling him to go to Africa. A story about obedience, because he went and his life was changed. For it was there on that trip, which he funded himself, that the plan of God began to unfold for his life. And what an amazing plan.
That young man is now married with three kids and another on the way. And yet, he doesn't just provide for his family. He now also feeds and educates over sixty African children in the slums of Nairobe, Kenya.
That young man who spends most of his time putting food on his own table through his own construction business also travels to Kenya once or twice a year, checking on and growing the school that employs four people and gives hope to children who otherwise would have grown up without it.
It all started when he met a girl named Agnes, who at the tender age of sixteen was providing for her entire family without the benefit of education. He decided he could do something to help, so even while he still a college student, he began sending money for her to go to school. And as the years went by, he began to provide education for more and more kids until he finally hired a pastor and a teacher and a cook and opened a school in Kenya. He and his wife now oversee the non-profit organization called H.O.P.E., and are looking to buy property in Nairobi to open a permanent orphanage facility that will house the school.
And I was struck as I listened to him tell his story that he is just one man. Just one ordinary man who saw a need so overwhelming that he decided to help just one person. And through his obedience in helping just one, God is using him to change the course of an entire community.
One became many.
Dreams became reality, until he had to dream bigger.
And now he's outgrown his dreams again, so it's time to go back to dreaming bigger.
And as I ate my dessert and drank my coffee and looked at faces of children whose lives are being forever changed and marked by the Kingdom of God, I hear the question rolling around in my heart.
Who is your "one?"
Where is God calling you to obedience so that the "one" can become "many?"
What do you have to give that can be multiplied in the hands of a miracle working God?
If you've never asked yourself those questions, it's time. The many are waiting for you.
Author's Note: If you'd like to find out more about H.O.P.E., the school in Kenya that is making a difference in so many lives, please log on to their website here.
