December 2012
Cherished family and friends…
This past weekend,
our family officially began our countdown to Jesus’ birthday celebration by
selecting a white pine from a local tree farm, putting on classic Christmas
music, and decorating the day away!
Susannah,
who is four-and-a-half, selected our perfectly fluffy triangular tree this
year, standing beside it for no less than thirty minutes during her preschool
class field trip to the tree farm. She
was delightfully adamant that we have that particular one, and with tremendous
purpose (as is her way in all areas, it seems) wrote her name in capital
letters on the tag provided and politely told the proprietors we would be back
Saturday with Daddy to saw it down and take it home!
Eliza Hope, now 17 months
old and as busy as can be, lets her delight in this towering holiday
acquisition sparkle from her precious face while signing TREE and joyfully
announcing, “Fwee! Fwee!” to anyone in her midst.
After we adorned
our tree with several strands of white lights, our annually expanding
collection of memoirs-as-ornaments, and shimmering silver tinsel, Susannah
wanted to play with our stuffed nativity set.
Imagine this teaching-oriented mama’s thrill when her young child
initiated a reenactment of the story of Jesus’ birth! I was to be Mary and she was going to be
Joseph. Our little visionary all but
told me exactly what to say as Mary, but this was all right by me as long as I
could gently guide her through a roughly correct sequence of events.
A vaguely familiar, or remotely similar, or
even a barely-there retelling would have been better than the way her story
evolved:
As she loaded the stable with every farm animal figurine imaginable
from the girls’ toy barn, my Mary was told not only did she not have a place to
give birth in the inn, but that the stable was full as well! Mary asked Joseph if he could kindly move
some of the animals into the pasture to graze. (It was a feeble attempt to
redirect on my part, but it worked…for about ten seconds.) As he did so the
foal started going wild, knocking over all the innocently munching livestock. While
I fumbled in a wasted effort to right them, the crazed foal made its way to the
top of the stack of Christmas decoration boxes, whereupon he jumped off the
“cliff” and “broke” all four of his legs!
Suddenly the attention was not at all on the stable birth I was still
desperately trying to portray, but rather on a severely injured plastic equine.
I still had visions
of a Gospel-proportioned redemption dancing in my head…until I saw
three-inch-tall Joseph’s little stuffed arm go up to his ear in order to call
the fire department to attend to the foal.
(It is important to document here that I was given a glimpse of hope
when she hesitated to make the call and asked, “Did Joseph and Mary live a
long, long time ago? Did they have
phones?” My negative response to the latter question did not have any impact
whatsoever on the plot, but at least she considered this reality.)
What ensued
was the arrival of a small toy fire truck with a functioning siren, the
bandaging of the foal with tinsel and tape, and the transporting of the baby
horse back to the stable atop the squealing engine. I took a deep breath of relinquishment and
decided there would be plenty of other opportunities throughout this month and
beyond to review the Bible’s telling of that first Christmas, and peace visited
me, albeit briefly.
Seems that while I
was entirely wrapped up in a manger-themed teachable moment, Eliza had managed
to unzip her sister’s marker bag, un-top its contents, and sample a rainbow of
colors. With her lips, tongue, and
teeth, of course.
I had to laugh as I
silently brought forth a brief prayer of thanksgiving for the words “non-toxic”
and “washable” that are printed upon the marker casings. And it was in that moment of stepping back
and looking deeper that I knew this seemingly ordinary, insignificant scene in
my living room was to be the theme for our Christmas letter this year: the never-ceasing clash of vision with
reality in all of life.
Oh, how the Lord
uses practically every moment of motherhood to teach me something! We all have these collisions of expectation
and actuality; mine are simply exemplified through our family life.
It’s the one time you decide to let your new
walker waddle naked from the tubby to her room, confident that in such a short
distance she cannot possibly find time to pee on the floor. Until she does.
It’s the day you are subbing in your big
girl’s pre-k class…and she throws up all over the floor (and me!) an hour into
your morning.
It’s the rare,
long-anticipated date night with your husband that is cancelled due to a
family-wide cold epidemic.
It’s the family shopping night to select gifts to
pack into a shoebox for a poor child in an underdeveloped nation that turns
into a fashion show of oversized purple sequined winter boots and hysterical
giggling. And rolling on the floor. In the main aisle of Target. You get the idea.
Through marriage
and children, the Lord is forcing Harry and me, and likely most of you as well,
to toss—or at the very least minimize—expectations. We are in a fleeting life season of parenting
wee ones where commitments are hard to make and keep because they depend on the
optimal health and energy of family members. Pacing ourselves generously is key
to even remote success!
In this life
season, we have all but given up on major (and minor, it sometimes seems) house
and yard projects, because we have a toddler who would delight in splashing
through a gallon of paint and chomping on the mulch as we disperse it. Besides Eliza, we have a four-year-old who
craves quality time with her mama and daddy and savors creative and pretend
play endeavors with us. These facts,
plus our enjoyment of little things like having clean dishes, socks, and
underwear, combine to make it really tough to take on “extras” like home
improvements!
While we strive to have
time together to foster growth in our marriage, we have also come to face the
inevitable: sometimes we are totally
spent by the time the girls’ lights are out!
Or one of us is zombified, having been up during the previous night to
console a child in need of physical comfort.
So we grant the grace of rest to one another, and make quality time as a
couple a priority at another time. We
are learning also to extend forgiveness to each other and ourselves for
unintended offenses and miscommunications, for short tempers, for
ill-preparedness, for every other common mistake we as fallible humans living
closely together make on a daily basis.
Giving up expectations and living in a
near-constant state of intentional forgiveness is HARD WORK, but incredibly
worthwhile if we want to be able to enjoy anything about one another and the
memories we make as a family.
Rewarding, fulfilling lessons in
gratitude flow as we learn to relinquish our visions to His control and to the
best interest of others. Sometimes the
thanksgiving comes well after the event—and requires a great deal of sweat and
tears—but, through the blessing of His revelation and His ample help, it
comes…if we let it.
Pee-pee on the floor
provides our toddler with a fascinating multi-sensory lesson on, “So that’s
what happens when I get that feeling down there!”
Vomit on the preschool rug gives Mama and Susannah time to snuggle up and watch a few episodes of “Little
House on the Prairie” while sharing in pertinent discussions of morals and
treatment of others.
A cancelled date
night gives way to early bedtime for the girls and a relaxed in-home movie
night (complete with Snuggies and popcorn!) for Harry and me.
And the giggle-fest on the floor of
Target? You have to admit that is an
awesome memory of sisters bonding through childish antics that will fade into
the past much faster than we can imagine.
These are the daily moments—the joyful, frustrating, pressing, charming,
painful, hilarious, gross, restful, deep, stretching, sweet moments—that make
up our lives. They are valuable beyond
words, but only to those who notice them and give thanks.
We are thankful during this Christmas
season for time to build memories into an overarching family legacy…to stop and
reflect on the deeper, more important aspects of love and life, lest we keep
our eyes on the trivial and miss God’s best completely …to confront these areas
that require us to intentionally reach beyond what feels good and comfortable
to our human nature …to rejoice in a Savior come down from Heaven for the
purpose of giving us salvation and significance through His life…to worship the
One who is patient to teach us about unending grace and forgiveness, that we
might extend His Kingdom to our families and to the world beyond.
With love
from our family at this Christmastide and always…
Harry, Lacey, Susannah Joy, and Eliza Hope
(and you can be sure our sweet doggie Rosie sends her love as well!!!)
