On Mother's Day

To all the women I know who long to be moms and aren't, I'm praying for you this weekend.
I pray that ...

1. ...they don't show a sappy mommy video at church.
2. ...if they do show a sappy mommy video at church, you won't be embarrassed by your tears.
3. ...next year you won't have to worry about whether they will show a sappy mommy video at church because you'll be too busy being a mom.
4. ...in the meantime, God will fulfill your desires with something greater than you can imagine right now.

Discontent

Caleb is not content to simply enjoy each new skill he acquires. He was so happy when he could sit up on his own, but that didn't stop him from being upset that he couldn't crawl. Now that he can crawl, he wants to walk.

I've noticed a similar trend in my own life. Try something new. Find out it doesn't satisfy my soul. Try something new. Find out it doesn't satisfy my soul. Try something new. And the cycle continues until I remember to be thankful that these things don't satisfy. Yesterday I came across Psalm 90:14: "Satisfy us in the morning with your unfailing love, that we may sing for joy and be glad all our days." I am so glad that cleaning house, volunteering, and even spending time with my family doesn't satisfy me. (Can you imagine having to clean a toilet in order to be happy? Ugh. How sad would that be?) Thankfully God doesn't just leave me discontented. God provides someone who will satisfy my soul: himself.

Lord, thank you that you've given me a desire for more than this world can give. Thank you for fulfilling those desires in Christ. Your unfailing love satisfies so completely and eternally. I pray that I wouldn't settle for anything but the joy of life in Christ as I go about my day. May you be my desire and my delight.

Stuck in the Trenches

I've been suffering from a myopic vision of my life lately. Three weeks ago Caleb slept through the night once. Two weeks ago he slept through the night four times. One week ago he slept through the night once, maybe twice. Last night he was awake at least three different times. In addition to that he decided last week not to nap longer than 45 minutes during the day. For those of you not living in newborn world at the moment, all that adds up to not enough sleep--for Caleb or for me. Was Caleb just teasing us three weeks ago when he slept through the night? Did he have to get my hopes up? I wonder if I'd be more content and less discouraged with the current state of affairs if my expectations hadn't been raised. It seems like we're moving backwards instead of forwards. Then the question is, "What do I do?" Some expert people say one thing, other expert people say the opposite, and most sources say that you should do what you think is best. Thanks for the help.

So instead of reading, I decided to ask an actual, real-life, someone-I-somewhat-know mom for help, which is very difficult for me to do in the first place, but I'm glad I did. After hearing my questions, her first questions were not about how long Caleb has been sleeping, how often he's been eating or any of those details--though those details did come up later. Her first questions were about my frustration/anxiety, reminding me that my mood affects my whole home. Ouch. But with that question, my myopic vision suddenly zoomed out. Yes, sleeping is important, but my attitude in teaching Caleb how to get enough sleep is probably more important. Can I be joyful in implementing whatever sleep method I choose to use with Caleb?

Several weeks ago, I was on a 80s and 90s worship music kick. Actually, I just found an old music book and was playing through it. Most of the songs reminded me why we don't sing too many of these anymore, but the song "My Soul Waits," which is based on Psalm 130 reminded me of an important question. Where am I placing my hope? After playing this song and reading the psalm, I journaled: "Where is my hope? In Christ's past redemption and in the coming deliverance when He returns. All else will pale and fail me. If I put my hope in Caleb sleeping through the night (or Luke or teaching or a predictable and meaningful day), I am going to be disappointed. Not only because he won't sleep through the night, but also because when Caleb sleeps through the night, it doesn't satisfy my soul. Yet if I place my hope in Christ's return, my soul will be completely satisfied when that happens. I will get to see Jesus!" And I don't think I'll be disappointed. So that's where I need to set my sights. I'm praying God would help me keep my eyes fixed there.

And until that day, I'll still need to decide how to teach Caleb to get enough sleep, but I can do it with joy not because I'm happy he's crying instead of sleeping, but because I know the crying won't last for eternity.

It won't, will it?

Weeds

Recently I've spent time harvesting all kinds of weeds in my yard, which makes me wonder, "What makes a weed a weed?"

Time as a Commodity

What's worth my time? What's my time worth?

I began thinking about these questions as I was cleaning out and organizing my teaching files. In an effort to not store boxes of papers that I'll never look at again, I've been consolidating the numerous lesson plans, units, student papers, articles, and other teaching related papers that I've saved over the past few years. Now I have most of my teaching units in nice, neat 3-ring binders so if I ever teach Animal Farm or Romeo and Juliet or my other units again, I don't have to start from scratch, and I won't have to search through boxes of papers to find my ideas. I also came across a unit I developed in college. The thing has to be at least 300 pages. As I look at it now, I will probably never teach that unit, but somehow I just could not throw it away. Those papers represent the only all-nighter I had to pull in college. They represent hours upon hours digging through the stacks in the ISU library. They show how I chose to spend a lot of time during the last month before student teaching. During my senior year, I decided it was worth my time to spend hours in the library, in front of my computer, and with my classmates to create this teaching unit that I will never use. Granted, that unit earned me a passing grade, which contributed to a college degree, which contributed to a teaching license, which contributed to a teaching job...and so forth. How did I decide that developing that unit was worth that much time? What from all my time spent teaching over the past few years will have any lasting worth? Why did I feel it was important to spend my time organizing my lesson plans and recycling old papers this past week? Is it worth my time to write this blog?

Time is a commodity I spend all too easily. How would I spend my time if I budgeted my time as carefully as I budget my money? What would my days (and nights) look like if I truly considered the lasting value of the activities I chose to do?

Thankful

A random assortment of "thankfuls" including the mundane and daily (but holy) occurrences and the spectacularly divine (yet daily) actions.

I'm thankful...
...for a grill that cooks tasty gyro meat and doesn't leave all the nasty fat in my broiler pan.
...for my husband's T-shirts that still fit (me).
...for the ability to laugh at the fake babies they have at prenatal classes.
...for the chance to hold a week-old baby and see her preciousness.
...that I'm caught up in my grading and lesson planning.
...for youtube and it's helpfulness in lesson planning.
...for yummy summer food.
...for warm sunshine and warm breezes.
...for the work I did over spring break that is paying off huge dividends now.
...for friends who maintain blogs.
...for the ability to cry and release emotion.
...for old and new God-exalting hymns like "How Deep the Father's Love for Us."
...for the guy who carried a new propane tank to the trunk of my car.
...that today was the first day a relative stranger touched my prego belly.
...that only one person consistently tells me I look tired.
...for the stretches and wiggles that show my prego belly has a mind and life of its own.
...for coworkers who laugh.
...for time to prepare for the baby soon joining us.
...for the opportunity to serve students where I teach.
...for real and lasting hope in Jesus Christ, who keeps his promises and is always consistent and trustworthy.
...for Christ's ability to transform my self-centeredness to mind and heart set on Him alone.

What's in a name?

"What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet." This is the famous quote from Act 2 Scene 2 of Romeo and Juliet in which Juliet justifies and excuses herself for falling in love with one of her family’s enemies—a Montague. What she’s saying is that it doesn’t matter what his name is; it doesn’t matter that her parents wouldn’t trust him with her life or that the Capulets and Montagues have reputations for not getting along. What matters is that she’s known him for a few short hours, and in that time he’s proven that he “kisses by the book” and can give a fair compliment (“But soft, what light through yonder window breaks?/ It is the east, and Juliet is the sun.”). He’s proven that he can make her heart flutter and her lips tingle. No, his name doesn’t matter.

Obviously, I disagree. Names do matter. I go by Deborah because I think Debbie sounds ditzy (and I don’t want to give the wrong impression) and Deb makes me think of someone generations older than I am. (Besides that fact, Deb also reminds me of a girl named Wi from Thailand that continually called me Debdeb, and so anytime someone calls me Deb I have a reverberating “Debdeb” fly through my head.) Of course this discussion of names and roses quickly turns into a highly theoretical discussion. Would we have girls walking around with the name “Turnip” if someone had decided to call a sweet-smelling flower by that name instead of “rose”? However the origins of various words come about, words and names do have meanings. And that is why “Rose” is a girl’s name and “Turnip” is not.

Just think of all the meanings associated with the names of God. Immanuel. Messiah. I Am. Creator. Almighty. Lord. Master. Savior. Prince. Son. Name above all names.

Lately my homeroom students have been pestering me about what we’ll name our son. Since we’ve decided not to disclose the name until we know for sure that he’s a boy, I don’t tell them the actual name. But it sure is fun to see their reactions to names like Eusebius, Erasmus, and Tybalt. Their reactions somewhat prove my point.