Fear Be Gone

Today I am vaguely aware of an unsettled feeling. I dug a little deeper and recognized fear.

I don’t want it to be there, but fear is lurking in my subconscious just below the surface …enough for me to feel the unrest of a simmering soup pot of unwieldy emotions.

Simmering, not boiling.

But something’s cooking.

I guess it’s the unevenness of my life… some stuff doesn’t get done.

Okay...Let’s be honest here. A lot of stuff is right now not getting done.

And I am writing a blog.

And I’m resting, because I’m supposed to be resting or I’ll regret it.

You know, I was the girl who liked getting in every assignment in school, perfecting every grade, cleaning the house, controlling my surroundings.

I know life’s not like that.

Well, maybe someone’s life is like that.

But not mine.

I realize I have chosen anything but control and perfect order.

And usually I thrive on the excitement and level of faith this chaos forces me into.

I usually love that it forces me to rely on Jesus and I get to see miracles.

But I falter when that voice inside starts in with the “who do you think you are?” rhetoric…

And I wonder if my tight-rope walk is more me than Him and if He is really going to come through for me when I am probably even now failing Him.

Again.

Today, God is for me.

Be silent fear.  Love, wash over the imperfections of my life and drown out everything else.

Today, I will trust and not fear.

Adding Up the Years, Part 2

Again I am counting as I remember the past 22 years of parenting.

1,2,3.. Today I counted to 47,000.
Diapers changed in this household.
Over 22 years...
47,000, give or take a few.

As you gag in awe and disgust, I would like to offer an honorable mention to my life partner who, among all of his other wonderful traits, has hardly ever missed a chance to change a diaper.

I'm serious.
 
Ladies, take it from me, if you are going to choose a life partner, along with all the traits currently on your list, add  happily changes diapers. Even if you don't have a monstrous family like mine, you'll be glad you did!

 Add "   Happily changes diapers"  to your list of admirable traits when looking for a potential mate.

But I digress. Some numbers are astounding.  Like 12 years and 4 months of pregnancy. In those years, by the time I would nurse the newest baby, I would be having another.

I know. I'm not complaining, mind you. Just reminiscing.
I read a great “what people don't tell you about pregnancy" website the other day that said, “When it comes to getting your body back to your pre-pregnant state,  it’s best to think nine months on, nine months off.”  Pondering this, I laughed hysterically (some might say maniacally). 

My mantra might be, “At least nine and a half months on and 4-7 sleepless months off. Repeat."… For those of you who are really counting, just know that, in some random twist of fate..er...  that is..planned–for-my-growth design, I am the only person you know who has gone weeks overdue with twelve pregnancies.

Nursing. I think we’re talking at least fourteen cumulative years involved in that lovely activity.
And speaking of feeding children, three times a day for 22 years is 24,090 meals for an ever-increasing number of tummies pulled up around my table in varying sizes and appetites.

Laundry... oh please! Let's not talk loads. Let's just add up the mountains and let it go at that.

Then there are the books and songs. I probably shouldn’t even calculate how many times I’ve read the classic “Apple, Ducks, Block” or sung the “Rocking Chair Prayer” to a sleepy child.

Or a whole rocker full of children. I can fit four or five if I don’t need to turn the pages.

 Much more than can be added...

Of course, these are just statistics, and as such they are intrinsically deceiving.  In recent years, for instance, my kids have changed an awful lot (emphasis on awful) of diapers for their younger siblings and prepared many, many meals.  But parenting has been deeper and broader than these numbers suggest, thank the Lord.

As I look back, I am reminded of this one irrefutable fact. 

God has been faithful to my family. (Here circa 2004)
 

 Ooh, I am gonna hear about this one! Humility, children! Since we're counting, consider all the humiliation you've brought me... But seriously...

Our Creator has provided everything we needed to do what we’ve done. He has provided nice clothing, abundant good quality food, and more good books to read than we have room for. 

Our family has never lacked good friends of similar heart with whom to share the journey, support from creative, generous grandparents, and opportunities to let God’s love flow through us to and from others.

Our kids enjoyed the blessing of tree swings and trampolines in a large shady yard, the gift of cousins of similar ages to play with, and the chance to learn discipline through daily chores and yard work. 

They’ve gotten the home school advantage of independence and resourcefulness, and the depth of character-building from participating in sports teams.

And our Lord has provided all.

Looking back on the amazing journey only makes me more excited for the road ahead, 

even when I cannot see around the bend in the road.

God can be trusted. Think about it.

If you never trust Him, you’ll never know how cool life can be.
Adding up the numbers, to me they equal the sum of JOY!

Adding Up the Years

"It would seem that something which means poverty, disorder and violence every single day should be avoided entirely, but the desire to beget children is a natural urge."  Phyllis Diller

Today I am celebrating parenthood. This is the 22^nd anniversary of my foray into the job.  

A friend suggested adding it all up, like they do for lawyer’s ads. Parenting each child gives me an astounding 161 years of experience. Together, hubby and I can put (2, carry the one) 322 years of parenting experience on our shingle! 

Now I remember why people always do a double-take when they hear our lucky number 13!

Every parent soon realizes parenting is the hardest job you’ll ever love.

 Parenting is the hardest job you'll ever love

Everyone commiserates that the pay is lousy, but we sometimes forget the benefits are outrageous. Carrying thirteen babies, one at a time over a span of 20 years, first in my heart, my body, then my arms, my home, my car, and finally my prayers has changed much more than the size of my waist and the amount in my bank account.

When that tiny baby looked up at me with wonder for the first time, my heart and life were irrevocably changed. The logic and reason I had before that point were destroyed in an explosion of overwhelming maternal compassion and protection.

So were my eardrums, but that’s another matter.

I believe everyone should have babies and teenagers at the same time. That way, when the teen rolls his eyes and slams into his room, the baby will look up at you with this adoring smile that says, “My world is complete!” and you have a spark of hope for another day.

 Everyone should have babies and teenagers at the same time...

Conversely, when you have spent the day shushing a crying baby and wiping spit-up off your shoulder, the teenager can take a turn patting and pacing and have a real adult conversation as he does.

As for having a large family, I highly recommend it. Adaptability keeps us young. Many of the folks with whom we started out having children are now rattling around in their empty houses. When they lay down a book, that book inexplicably stays in exactly the same spot until they pick it up again a week later. It does not migrate behind the couch or under the toddler’s bed. They wake every morning to silence and the sound of birdsong, not screaming. 

I certainly don't envy them.

Granted, we don’t have the energy we once did, but we are still happily in the full circle of busy parenting. Every day is filled with the learning and wonder of childhood… multiplied, of course, by the myriad of experiences. 

Keturah is potty training, Ezra is learning to tie his shoes, and Faith is memorizing her multiplication tables. Hannah is playing basketball, while Micah just got his first job. Our capacity for variety and change is continually challenged, and there is no end in sight. 

At the age when our schoolmates are facing the empty nest, we are learning and growing instead of settling in. 

This suits me. I’m not ready to be old.

Years ago, I had a vision of two gardens. The first one was in a tiny back yard. It consisted of a few ruler-straight rows of vegetables carefully tended so there was not a weed in sight.  A few modest vegetables were growing on the stalks. It looked good and virtuous and proper.

The other garden was an imposing sight to behold. A huge mass of plant material sprang from the ground in every configuration imaginable. Flowers were entwined with vegetables and fruit in a wild mass of growth. Weeds grew all around the garden, and even in it there were a few. But what drew my attention was the fruit. In this wild chaos of a garden grew this luscious, massive produce. The fruit and flowers were everywhere in great abundance. 

 What drew my attention was the fruit

I felt in that moment that God was showing me the choice I could make with my life. In attempting to control my parenting, I could have a beautifully managed garden with some genuine fruit. Or, I could give up control and let the garden grow in God’s way. 

I would risk the scrutiny of others and the lack of showmanship, but I could have the big healthy fruit.

I chose fruit.

Take it from my considerable years of experience. The fruit is incredibly sweet!