I'm looking up the hill out my living room window this morning--seeing clearly the white dots of sheep ambling all over. Yesterday Dave, Fiona, and I went back to the Callandar swimming pool together. It was so fun! I found some swimmies/water wings at a thrift shop just before we went, and she tried them out for the first time. She had a hard time remembering to keep her mouth closed, and was nervous having her mouth close to the water, but quickly became braver and ventured further away from me each time I let her go. It's so much to watch her grow in her independence.
This morning I have been reading in John, chapters 11 & 12, in and around the story of Lazarus being raised from the dead. Every time I read this account, I wonder how the Pharisees could still ignore the power of Christ. Lazarus had been in his grave for four days--traditionally bound with funeral wraps, and when Christ said, "Lazarus, come forth," he did! How did they rationalise that happening by anyone other than God himself?!...And then I remember my faith.
What if Jesus walked the earth today--with our technology and knowledge of science and how things work? Would have tried to rationalize away the miracles that Christ did? Don't I still? Surrounding me are millions are God's creations that I walk by without a glance of acknowledgment every day. Miracles happen every day, and don't I often find myself asking, "Was that God, or just a coincidence?" This is why sometimes I doubt that God is good all the time--because I refuse to notice daily, hourly, minute-by-minute the things he does to hold this world together and further his kingdom, shining his glory and grace on this world that rejects him.
His growth in me are these moments: the whispers and knowledge and moments of absolutely awe in the things he has done for us--to show us his glory and power and love, to show us the only way forward is in him. I often imagine God as my heavenly father, sitting on his lap much like climbing onto the Lincoln Monument in billowing robes and soft arms and a warm laugh. I know he loves when I grow a little, get braver, see his heart a little clearer. He laughs at my awe of discovery; smiles at my wobbly antics as I try to get it right. His pride is in his glory shining through my created humanity. Thank you Father.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Friday, August 08, 2014
one day past "swimming cool"
Sometimes I gaze out the windows and see nothing I recognise. There are tiny things of all different shapes waving from taller things of slender-ish presence. These stand in and between and before rounded mounds rising from beneath, dotted with moving beings. Colours vibrant and dim splash across hedged bundles and green fuzzy covered heaviness, stacked one atop the other. Something squinty makes an appearance from time to time, between droplets on my window panes. These mornings are weary--these days of unrecognisable things, preceded by nights of wakings. Muscles seem sorer than the previous day, and I think back to why these things have occurred.
It's lunch time--but even though our bellies are nye near empty, noses, faces, hands, lips are pressed eagerly to the glass, reaching towards the aching nearness of the "swimming cool" on the other side. We prod them to eat, each bite a laborious regime of torment when happiness is so tantalisingly near. Our "stood" ground slips, and '2 more' becomes 'all done.'
My lips curve naturally as the wave of chlorinated smell fills me up--this is happiness to me, Mr. Buble'--this smell brings memories more abundant than can be recounted. It blows past my ears, whispering my hair as we enter.
Pitter-paterings are herded into stalls, bathing costumes donned (I am embracing these foreign words--of my choosing--some of them are rather exotic, and they bubble in my mouth). The excitement that is the warm showers before entering is entered into.
I've just warmed my coffee for the 3rd time. The haziness is being embraced--but pj's have actually been shed AND replaced with practical clothes and it's before noon. Progress.
Whether it will be too warm or too cold quickly passes as splashing feet somewhat timidly enter. All becomes joy. Gentle. No running. Wait for Mommy. We float we jump we jump we jump...we c l i m b out, we s l i d e in. again again again. There are lifeguards with socks and shoes on...how will they swim like that? Just like My Daddy I lace her fingers around my neck and we swim the length of the pool--kick kick I say--this is harder than I thought it would be; I smile reassuringly to the l.g. so he knows I am not going to drown with this Little on my back.
Heads go under and splutter back up, wide-eyed, but not crying. Cuddles are warranted and wanted. They go on with their waddling water adventures, up down side to side back & forth. A nose it dipped in, this and that ear, bubbles are blown, and quite a bit of water is consumed. Skin wrinkles. Is there another happiness to find? Yesssss....ice cream is promised. We patter back through the warm sprinklings and towel and dry and disrobe and rerobe and squeal and promise again.
The refreshedness has worn off by the time the car is reached. We are back in town--and cones of "ice 'ceam" are proffered. Mommies "help with the melting." Faces are happily melted onto. Caffeine energy is earned for the trip home--as toddlers fight naps in the back seat, but helplessly yield.
These are the days that preface mornings of haze, but today, as my coffee cools for the fourth time, I remember that my muscles weary from happiness, and I can smile instead of gloom into those pools of blue that are her eyes.
It's lunch time--but even though our bellies are nye near empty, noses, faces, hands, lips are pressed eagerly to the glass, reaching towards the aching nearness of the "swimming cool" on the other side. We prod them to eat, each bite a laborious regime of torment when happiness is so tantalisingly near. Our "stood" ground slips, and '2 more' becomes 'all done.'
My lips curve naturally as the wave of chlorinated smell fills me up--this is happiness to me, Mr. Buble'--this smell brings memories more abundant than can be recounted. It blows past my ears, whispering my hair as we enter.
Pitter-paterings are herded into stalls, bathing costumes donned (I am embracing these foreign words--of my choosing--some of them are rather exotic, and they bubble in my mouth). The excitement that is the warm showers before entering is entered into.
I've just warmed my coffee for the 3rd time. The haziness is being embraced--but pj's have actually been shed AND replaced with practical clothes and it's before noon. Progress.
Whether it will be too warm or too cold quickly passes as splashing feet somewhat timidly enter. All becomes joy. Gentle. No running. Wait for Mommy. We float we jump we jump we jump...we c l i m b out, we s l i d e in. again again again. There are lifeguards with socks and shoes on...how will they swim like that? Just like My Daddy I lace her fingers around my neck and we swim the length of the pool--kick kick I say--this is harder than I thought it would be; I smile reassuringly to the l.g. so he knows I am not going to drown with this Little on my back.
Heads go under and splutter back up, wide-eyed, but not crying. Cuddles are warranted and wanted. They go on with their waddling water adventures, up down side to side back & forth. A nose it dipped in, this and that ear, bubbles are blown, and quite a bit of water is consumed. Skin wrinkles. Is there another happiness to find? Yesssss....ice cream is promised. We patter back through the warm sprinklings and towel and dry and disrobe and rerobe and squeal and promise again.
The refreshedness has worn off by the time the car is reached. We are back in town--and cones of "ice 'ceam" are proffered. Mommies "help with the melting." Faces are happily melted onto. Caffeine energy is earned for the trip home--as toddlers fight naps in the back seat, but helplessly yield.
These are the days that preface mornings of haze, but today, as my coffee cools for the fourth time, I remember that my muscles weary from happiness, and I can smile instead of gloom into those pools of blue that are her eyes.
Tuesday, August 05, 2014
Mommy-bodies & a new-found enjoyment (Shhhh, don't tell Dave)
I am currently doing the 90-day-bikini-body-mommy challenge on youtube with my older sister. It is not something I would usually do for fun, well let's face it, traditional exercise is not something I would usually do for fun. I seriously hate most of the exercises--burpees, you are my nemesis. But, ~whispery voice~ I'm kinda starting to rock this new schedule/regime.
About 8 am every day Fiona and Dave walk quietly into the bedroom (usually Dave is reminding Fi with our "shh shh shh" sounds, and she is repeating that). She says, "hi mommy!" then climbs into bed with me, pulling her books, baby, and whatever other toys she decides to bring with her each morning, while Dave hops into the shower. Fi and I read or play "tent" in the bed, then she hops down to brush her teeth with Daddy. We give goodbye kisses, and "snuggles!" and "cuddle!" and wave to Daddy.
I pull on my stretchy workout clothes, and we trundle off to the living room (I love that word "trundle"--it is so very fun), where I pull up the bikini-body-mommy video for the day and roll out my mat. Fi, still in her footie pyjamas, and usually holding "Little Baby," jumps around beside me as I do push-ups or jumping jacks or "figure skaters" (my favourite) for ten to twenty minutes.
Sweaty, a bit breathless, and smelly, with Fiona yelling "Again! Again!" we head into the bathroom so I can take a shower (morning showers--crazy!!! I have always been a staunch night-time shower girl). Fi's current toy of choice is her block shape sorter. I jump/limp into the shower. While Fi, on the other side of the shower door, holds up blocks and we talk about what shape and colour they are--and if I'm not out in five or so minutes she starts yelling, "Out! All done Mommy! All done shower!" To which I reply "Almost...soon....ok ok I'm done." She then grabs my towel for me (to which I remind her, "No, not the little one/hand towel, BIG one"), and I check the weather app to see if I should pull on a sweater or a tank top (it's Scotland, so let's face it, it's usually a sweater, but these 3 weeks of summer have been really amazing).
Then we scuttle off to the kitchen (like that, eh? Scuttle?) so I can eat breakfast--Fi, my wee hobbit, usually has second breakfast. If I can hide the yogurt from her (she loves yogurt, but it's usually a treat/dessert for her), I have my favourite breakfast--yogurt, granola, + fresh fruit. Then she plays with Play-doh or colours while I do a few dishes or we put the laundry on (if it's going to be a nice day aka the clothes actually getting dry).
About ten o'clock I put Fi down in her cot for a rest. Sometimes she sleeps, most of the time she just plays with her stuffed animals. I make myself a cup of coffee, browse the internet a bit, then read my Bible. If I still have time, I write (hey! Look at that! I had time today!).
About now--she wakes up/gets done with playing and yells "Mommy coming!!!" which means I am supposed to be coming ;).
I'm now 9 days into this new regime--the soreness of the first week is finally wearing off, and it's starting to feel good! I may actually like exercising in the morning/at all. I maybe am starting to feel refreshed by the invigorated feeling of accomplishment after my short morning workout. I just might like this morning showering thing...but there's 81 days to go still, so I'll hold off commenting till later ;).
About 8 am every day Fiona and Dave walk quietly into the bedroom (usually Dave is reminding Fi with our "shh shh shh" sounds, and she is repeating that). She says, "hi mommy!" then climbs into bed with me, pulling her books, baby, and whatever other toys she decides to bring with her each morning, while Dave hops into the shower. Fi and I read or play "tent" in the bed, then she hops down to brush her teeth with Daddy. We give goodbye kisses, and "snuggles!" and "cuddle!" and wave to Daddy.
I pull on my stretchy workout clothes, and we trundle off to the living room (I love that word "trundle"--it is so very fun), where I pull up the bikini-body-mommy video for the day and roll out my mat. Fi, still in her footie pyjamas, and usually holding "Little Baby," jumps around beside me as I do push-ups or jumping jacks or "figure skaters" (my favourite) for ten to twenty minutes.
Sweaty, a bit breathless, and smelly, with Fiona yelling "Again! Again!" we head into the bathroom so I can take a shower (morning showers--crazy!!! I have always been a staunch night-time shower girl). Fi's current toy of choice is her block shape sorter. I jump/limp into the shower. While Fi, on the other side of the shower door, holds up blocks and we talk about what shape and colour they are--and if I'm not out in five or so minutes she starts yelling, "Out! All done Mommy! All done shower!" To which I reply "Almost...soon....ok ok I'm done." She then grabs my towel for me (to which I remind her, "No, not the little one/hand towel, BIG one"), and I check the weather app to see if I should pull on a sweater or a tank top (it's Scotland, so let's face it, it's usually a sweater, but these 3 weeks of summer have been really amazing).
Then we scuttle off to the kitchen (like that, eh? Scuttle?) so I can eat breakfast--Fi, my wee hobbit, usually has second breakfast. If I can hide the yogurt from her (she loves yogurt, but it's usually a treat/dessert for her), I have my favourite breakfast--yogurt, granola, + fresh fruit. Then she plays with Play-doh or colours while I do a few dishes or we put the laundry on (if it's going to be a nice day aka the clothes actually getting dry).
About ten o'clock I put Fi down in her cot for a rest. Sometimes she sleeps, most of the time she just plays with her stuffed animals. I make myself a cup of coffee, browse the internet a bit, then read my Bible. If I still have time, I write (hey! Look at that! I had time today!).
About now--she wakes up/gets done with playing and yells "Mommy coming!!!" which means I am supposed to be coming ;).
I'm now 9 days into this new regime--the soreness of the first week is finally wearing off, and it's starting to feel good! I may actually like exercising in the morning/at all. I maybe am starting to feel refreshed by the invigorated feeling of accomplishment after my short morning workout. I just might like this morning showering thing...but there's 81 days to go still, so I'll hold off commenting till later ;).
Monday, August 04, 2014
The Works
How often do we as Christians sit around and think, "Am I doing what He wants me to do? Do I have it right? What is the Will of God?" I have been reading in the book of John lately, and it has been too long since I have done so. Today I was reading chapter 6, and verses 28-29 stuck out to me. "Then they said to him, 'What must we do, to be doing the works of God?' Jesus answered them, 'This is the work of God, that you believe in him whom he has sent." Believe. Just believe. What does that look like in my life, when I truly believe--do I live it? Do I need any other prompting than believing Jesus is the Christ, Son of the Living God? Does my going and coming give an account of that belief?
Later on in the same chapter of John, Jesus tells his disciples that even though they have seen many things, there are some of them who still don't believe. After hearing this, some of them leave, and don't return to following Christ. Do you feel a little punch in your stomach at those words? For me, I remember times I have chosen not to believe, to walk away, and it hasn't turned out well. I run out of "hope," and have to keep refilling it with the next big thing, the next vacation, or adventure, or challenge, or visit with friends....or or or...I end up exhausted. In John 6:27 it says, "Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you. For on him God the Father has set his seal." Belief in Christ Jesus will never lead us to hopelessness. It will never lead us to say, "God is not enough."
Our bodies decay; grow sick, weary, and old. I am learning this so much more each year that is added to mine. As I grow older, so do my parents, siblings, friends, and friends of the family. Each year another body I have loved leaves this world for eternity. It weighs heavy on my heart--to know I will continue to walk this life without those beautiful souls. After some of Jesus' disciples left the group, Jesus asks the rest if they want to go too. In John 6:68 Simon Peter replies, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God."
This is it. If I believe on the Holy One of God, where else better is there to turn and say, "You are enough--you satisfy?" I believe, and that is enough, and it will be enough though this world gets shakier every day. It will be enough in the pain, in the heartbreak, in the despair, for "to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life." We have believed. Walk. Believe. Live it.
Later on in the same chapter of John, Jesus tells his disciples that even though they have seen many things, there are some of them who still don't believe. After hearing this, some of them leave, and don't return to following Christ. Do you feel a little punch in your stomach at those words? For me, I remember times I have chosen not to believe, to walk away, and it hasn't turned out well. I run out of "hope," and have to keep refilling it with the next big thing, the next vacation, or adventure, or challenge, or visit with friends....or or or...I end up exhausted. In John 6:27 it says, "Do not work for the food that perishes, but for the food that endures to eternal life, which the Son of Man will give to you. For on him God the Father has set his seal." Belief in Christ Jesus will never lead us to hopelessness. It will never lead us to say, "God is not enough."
Our bodies decay; grow sick, weary, and old. I am learning this so much more each year that is added to mine. As I grow older, so do my parents, siblings, friends, and friends of the family. Each year another body I have loved leaves this world for eternity. It weighs heavy on my heart--to know I will continue to walk this life without those beautiful souls. After some of Jesus' disciples left the group, Jesus asks the rest if they want to go too. In John 6:68 Simon Peter replies, "Lord, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life, and we have believed, and have come to know, that you are the Holy One of God."
This is it. If I believe on the Holy One of God, where else better is there to turn and say, "You are enough--you satisfy?" I believe, and that is enough, and it will be enough though this world gets shakier every day. It will be enough in the pain, in the heartbreak, in the despair, for "to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life." We have believed. Walk. Believe. Live it.
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