Demanding Obedience

If you had been in my house this morning, you would have heard a grand total of about two sentences come out of my mouth.

1. “Pick up your crayons and put them in the box."
2. “Pick up your shoes and put them in the basket.”

The first one lasted for about twenty minutes. Claire loves to have a task to complete, but the one thing that she always balks at is putting her crayons away. So, of course, when I explained that it was time to put up the crayons before moving on to the next activity, she found plenty of excuses…She tried distraction (“Oh look Mom, it’s Daddy’s contact case…isn’t it interesting??”); she tried pouting and even throwing a minor tantrum, but it did nothing to change my response or my instructions; and she tried running away, but my arm was always too quick for her to get too far away. Finally she put them away, and even closed the box and went to put it up on the bookshelf. I felt like supermom.

That was the first one.

But the second one. Oh, the second one.

It was such a simple request…put your shoes in the basket. She loves to put her shoes in the basket. She has never refused before. I still don’t know what happened. But somehow I went from feeling like supermom to just feeling super tired.

For over an hour (don’t miss that please…OVER AN HOUR), we went round and round. Here was the script that we repeated…

Me: “Pick up your shoes and put them in the basket.”

Claire: Falls down in the floor and screams.

Me: Going about my business, trying not to reward the tantrum with attention. Washing dishes, cleaning the bathroom, vacuuming the floor, etc.

Claire: Attempts to grab a book off the shelf; tries to pull her toys out of the corner; asks for a snack; plays the piano.

Me: Pick Claire up, return her to the middle of the living room floor, and say, “Pick up your shoes and put them in the basket.”

Claire: Falls down in the floor and screams.

Etc. etc. etc.

The tears came harder. The screams got louder and longer. My prayers got more fervent. At one point I thought it was over. She actually picked up the shoes…and proceeded to throw them back to the floor. Oh, the depravity of mankind.

Yes, we did finally end this little scene. She did eventually, with angry tears still spilling from her eyes, put her shoes in the basket. And we proceeded to have major cuddle time on the couch as I reassured her of my love for her. Now everything is quiet. Claire is asleep (or at least pretending to be) and I am – well – tired. And so incredibly thankful. I am thankful that God is a teacher and that becoming a parent is the most intense lesson plan He has carried out in my life so far. (And I know that it’s only beginning.)

The entire time that we were on this merry-go-round this morning, I kept thinking, “Is this how God sees my sin?” I was so grieved over Claire’s stubbornness. I wanted so badly for her to obey so that she would stop crying and be free to play with her other toys. I was so frustrated because I knew that she understood what I was asking, and honestly I just wasn’t even asking that much. I kept putting her back in a position to obey by moving her to the middle of the floor where her shoes were, and yet even when I gently placed her right in front of her shoes, she responded by arching her back and screaming. I repeated my instructions every time so that she wouldn’t forget exactly what I was asking. And believe it or not, I didn’t get angry. I was just so sad.

Why didn’t my one-year-old get it? She caused so much distress for herself by refusing to obey one simple command. She restricted her own freedom by exerting a stubborn will.

I’m beginning to understand more and more God’s heart of love in calling us to obedience. For me, it wasn’t about the shoes. It was about my daughter hearing my voice and heeding my instruction. The shoes really didn’t matter. If they remained in the floor all day, no one would have noticed and nothing would have been harmed. But I want to train her in righteousness now, with simple commands, so that she understands the importance of obedience. I pray for her to have a teachable heart, a sensitive spirit. I want her to understand the joy and freedom brought by obedience.

When God instructed His children as they were standing at the edge of the promised land, He emphasized that obedience to His commands would bring life and fulfillment. Our holy God expects us to live righteously, and His commands are motivated by love. He wants us to enjoy life (Deuteronomy 6:2). He wants things to go well with us (Deuteronomy 6:3). But just like toddlers, we so often buck up at His commandments as if they are restrictive and hard, forgetting that Jesus’ yoke is easy (Matthew 11:30) and God’s commandments are not burdensome (1 John 5:3)!

This post may not make much sense, especially if it turns out to be as scattered as my thoughts are right now. But I wanted to write down what I was thinking before the next tantrum comes along, so I can remember in the heat of the moment God’s perfect love in demanding obedience.

And now, I think I shall go have a cup of hot tea. Or a nap.

The Funk

Boy, was I in a funk today.

It's not like it was the most stressful day ever. I have had much busier days with much more going on. It was just a funky day.

Maybe it was because I've been thinking about how the Coach is going to start back to classes in a couple of weeks and then he'll disappear into his little study cave and I won't see him again until May. Maybe it's because my brother and his family were supposed to visit this weekend but now they can't because he has to make up snow days at work. Maybe it was because Little Bit fell asleep in the car while I was running errands this morning and was totally off her nap schedule. Maybe it was just because I am a girl.

Whatever the case, I just wasn't doing too great. I kind of just wanted to sit on the couch and check my email and facebook over and over and not have to think about anything. But that's really hard to do with a toddler. I could feel myself withdrawing and becoming frustrated, and I finally just decided I was going to have to do something to snap out of it.

So I turned on the tv.

No, it's not what you're thinking. I actually turned on the tv, put on a Brainy Baby dvd, and sat with my little girl in my lap while she watched it. My plan: to cuddle with my baby while spending some time in prayer. I thought, I'll just sit in this recliner and count my blessings while my little sweetie lies peacefully in my arms and becomes smarter and more creative just by virtue of watching the "Right Brain" video.

It really was well-intentioned. And it worked for about four and a half minutes.

But then she got antsy, and a foul smell started to radiate from her diaper, and she jumped down and grabbed the remote from the table and started mashing buttons, and the moment was broken.

So much for quality time with the Lord. And the funk continued.

So now, an hour and a half later, after a really long battle to actually take a nap at all, Little Bit is asleep and I am alone. And pondering. What am I supposed to do when I feel the Funk coming on? And how do I shake it off?

A couple of days ago I was reading in Mark 8:22-26. This is the story of a healing that Jesus performed. I have always loved how each account of the miracles of Jesus is unique; how He never healed two people the exact same way; how each time He worked in their lives, it was personal and especially tailored to their situation and needs. This time it was a blind man. Jesus took him aside, away from the crowds, to work with him one on one. He spit on the man's eyes and put His hands on him, and then He asked a question: "Do you see anything?"

Alright, let's hold it right there. I mean, the Son of God just spit in the man's eyes. That's, well, gross, but it seems like a rhetorical question to ask "Do you see anything?" That was divine saliva! The obvious answer, to me, is, "Yes, of course, Jesus. You just spit on him. Of course he can see now."

But that's not what the man replied. Instead, he said, "I see people; they look like trees walking around."

What? It sounds like Jesus messed up. The man can see, but he can't see clearly. Everything is distorted and confused. But Jesus did not really react to this statement as if He was surprised. He didn't even say anything. Instead, He simply laid His hands on the man's eyes, and at once "his eyes were opened, his sight was restored, and he saw everything clearly."

I'm not even going to pretend to understand why Jesus did this. I don't know why He healed the man in two stages instead of one. But the important thing for me to know right now is not why He did, but that He did.

It's not what I would have expected. It's not even what I would have wanted.

But then again, God rarely meets my expectations. He always exceeds them.

I have this verse at the top of my blog: "As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways, and My thoughts than your thoughts."

I really had the expectation and the desire to snap out of my mood by spending time in prayer. But even after I entered into that time, however short-lived it was with my crazy toddler squirming everywhere, my vision was still clouded, just like the blind man's was even after Jesus touched him. It wasn't until just now, as I meditate on the Word in front of me, that my sight is being restored and I am starting to see clearly.

It's not about snapping myself out of my Funk. It's about focusing on Jesus and letting Him work His miracle in me, in whatever way He chooses. It is about faith even when Jesus does not act the way I expect or desire at the moment. The blind man didn't freak out when he saw trees walking around, and I shouldn't freak out if praying or reading the Bible doesn't work like a magic wand. The blind man seemed to have a peace about the fact that he was standing next to Jesus and that Jesus had the power to complete what He started. I want that too.

The “More-Than-Rules” Book

It was seriously only going to take two minutes.

The fish was out of the oven and cooling on the plate when I prematurely said, “Do you want to eat?” Claire went into panic mode.

“EAT! EAT!” she signed frantically, adding a desperate cry when I did not immediately put food in front of her.

“Patience, love! Wait patiently for just a minute. I don’t want you to burn your mouth. I promise, the fish will be cool enough to eat in just a minute.”

Her signing grew almost violent and her cries turned into a siren blast. Don’t worry, she did get fed. You would think we starve the child instead of feeding her EVERY hour. I don’t know where all that food goes on her twenty pounds. But goodness, I had to wait until it was cool. My command – “Wait!” – was a law of love, out of concern for her well-being, within the context of knowing that she was not going to starve in the meantime!

The chaos had calmed down when Spencer raised a very good question.

“How are we going to teach her that rules are not just rules? I don’t want to tell her a rule – Don’t complain. Obey mom and dad. Be patient. – and when she asks why, just say, ‘Because the Bible says so.’ How do we teach her that it’s not just about behavior, but about the heart?”

Great question. So we started talking about it, and the “More-Than-Rules” book was born. Or, at least the seed of the idea of the book. And really, that’ s a bit misleading. It’s not a book. We simply decided that as Claire grows in understanding, we need to be prepared to shepherd her in the Word of God, not just the “words” themselves. We want her to see God’s heart behind His commandments. So we are going to try to be preemptive in this and think of how we might explain why God has given us certain commandments to obey. More than just abstract or random rules…but loving, gracious rules that reflect a loving, gracious, holy, and powerful God.

I thought I might do this in blog form. And here is a disclaimer, mostly to myself because I get big ideas and usually fall short on the follow-through. I don’t know how many blogs I will post on this subject, how often they will come, how consistent they will be. Not every future post will be on this subject. But I look forward to meditating on different commandments and thinking ahead to how I will present these to Claire. And I have a feeling that, on this journey, I will be more convicted than anyone.

Our goal as parents is to teach Claire to love the Word of God, and to love the God of the Word. Our goal in the “More-Than-Rules” book is to show her God’s heart of love through His commandments, and ultimately to teach her the beautiful gospel over and over again.

“Open my eyes that I may see wonderful things in Your law…I delight in your laws because I love them.” Psalm 119:18, 47

Oh Lord, may it be so!

Unimpressive Moments

Last night I put my baby in the crib. This morning a one-year-old woke me up. (An hour early, I might add. So much for that extra hour of sleep.)

She doesn’t look any different today than she did yesterday. She’s not any taller, and her conversations still sound suspiciously like gibberish, and her steps are still very wobbly. But sometime between yesterday and today, she turned into a one-year-old. Okay, specifically at 4:58 this afternoon. But you know what I mean.

This first birthday is a big milestone. Kind of like graduations and wedding days and anniversaries. I’m so glad that life is not found in the big milestones.

If life was defined by these milestones, then I think I would be sad most of the time. Because life would be spent in increasing anticipation for a certain event and then a huge letdown once it was over.

Even though I loved my wedding day, I love my marriage even more. I’m thankful that I graduated from high school and college and seminary, but I’m more thankful for the experiences that filled my high school, college, and seminary days. I enjoyed celebrating my baby’s birthday, but more than that I enjoy my “every-days” with her.

It’s kind of like when Elijah was waiting for the Lord to pass by. A “great and powerful wind” blew in and literally shattered the mountains. An earthquake rumbled through. A great fire blazed.

God was not in them.

Then a gentle breeze started to blow. There He was. In the quiet. In the unimpressive moment.

Jesus defined eternal life as knowing God in John 17:3. I want to know Him. Not just on the mountaintops, but in the everyday moments. I want to teach my daughter about Him when we sit at home and when we walk along the road, when we lie down and when we get up. I want to teach her that life is not defined by the wind and the earthquakes and the fires. It is in the gentle breeze.

And so I am not afraid of all the milestones yet to come. I look forward to all the “firsts” and “lasts” in my daughter’s life, but I will not build my life around them only to be disillusioned and sad once they are accomplished. I plan on thoroughly enjoying my one-year-old this year, in every unimpressive moment that we have together…because those moments are where life takes place.

I Feel a Change a-Comin'

The Smoky Mountains are on fire with red, orange, and yellow brilliance.

Mmmmm, I love fall. I love the vibrancy of the colors, the aroma of baked apples and cinnamon and roasted pumpkin, the crunch of fallen leaves underfoot, the crispness of the evening air. For someone who is not always all that thrilled about change, I sure do love the season that represents it.

As the temperature drops here in the mountains, my hot green tea season has officially started. And I find that morning tea has a way of slowing me down and getting me in a “thinking spot,” as that old sage Winnie the Pooh liked to call it.

So much has changed in my life over the past few years. And I mean monumental changes. I think about where we were two years ago…

In the flatlands of eastern North Carolina…

Both in seminary…

Both with steady jobs…

And no kids…

Fast forward two years, and here we are…

In the mountains…

Spencer in physical therapy school…

With a couple of very part-time, a little bit inconsistent, jobs…

And a beautiful daughter…

And what is next? Because if there is one thing I’m learning, it’s that life is always in flux. In less than a year Spencer will be done with school and then I have no idea where we’ll go. It could be anywhere. And in less than three weeks our little girl will turn one year old. My baby will officially be a toddler. What???

Someone told me this picture should be titled, “Oh the Places You’ll Go.” That makes me want to cry.

But, change is inevitable. As much as I want to keep my baby a baby, she will still grow up. As much as I don’t want to leave the friends I have made here, leave we must when Spencer is done.

Faithfulness. At times like this it is my saving grace. God’s faithfulness “reaches to the sky” (Psalm 108:4); it “continues through all generations” (Psalm 100:5). His mercies are new every morning.

Today His mercies toward me include having an almost one-year-old who is just discovering how to say words like “beh-bay” (“baby”…come on, you didn’t get that???) and gathering up the courage to take her first steps unassisted. They include spending time with amazing friends and just soaking in their wisdom; teaching Bible studies to teenagers and to college girls; leading a fitness class for some very enthusiastic moms; and playing music to aid in the corporate worship of a precious body of believers.

Tomorrow? I don’t know yet. But I do know that His mercies will be new, and they will be sweet, and His faithfulness will still be great. And on this cool autumn day, as I sip my hot green tea and gaze at the red and orange and yellow show in my backyard, I am very grateful for my very faithful God.

Sing Over Me

I sing to Claire a lot. I always have. About 90% of the time I’m just being silly. In fact, when Claire was a newborn, instead of telling her what I was doing I would sing it…

Oh, we just have to change a diaper now
It will only take a minute, don’t cry so loud

I sing to her in the car…

Hey, silly kiddo, what is she doing?
Hey, silly kiddo, what is she doing?
Is she being kind of silly? (Yeah, yeah)
Or is she being kind of funny? (Yeah, yeah)
Is she being kind of sweet? (Yeah, yeah)
Or is she just a little hungry? (Yeah, yeah)

I sing to her after her bath, when she’s all wrapped up in her towel…

I’ve got a bathtime burrito, a bathtime burrito
I’ve got a bathtime burrito
And she’s a silly billy – Whoo!

Incredibly deep, I know. So, that’s 90% of our day. But then there is that other 10% - the part where I’m not singing to her, but I’m singing over her. And there is a huge difference.

It’s time to go to sleep. I hold her and feed her and pray for her. And then, in the moments before I put her in her crib, I sing over her. It’s one of my favorite times. When I am singing over my daughter, I don’t sing fun, silly songs. I sing songs that have a message that I want to transfer from my heart to hers. I sing words that are life-giving, words of peace and of hope and of salvation.

Be still, my soul, the Lord is on your side…

Jesus paid it all, all to Him I owe
Sin had left a crimson stain, He washed it white as snow…

For I know whate’er befall me, Jesus doeth all things well…

Zephaniah 3:17 pictures God quieting us with His love and singing over us with joy. I just can’t help but think that He treasures those moments when we can be still and quiet enough to let His song soak into our hearts and give us hope.

I sang over Claire tonight, and now she is sleeping peacefully. Soon I will lay my head down as well. Be still, my soul…and listen…

“By day the Lord directs His love; at night His song is with me...” Psalm 42:8

Cuddle-Bug

You know those babies who want nothing more than to cuddle with their mama when they are upset or tired? The ones who can be comforted when they are upset simply by laying their head against their mommy, maybe sucking on a pacifier or a thumb, and basically just being a little cuddle-bug?

Yeah, I don’t have one of those.

Don’t get me wrong. Claire loves to be held…just not so much cuddled. She likes to be held upright where she can look at everything. And true, there are some moments when she will lay her head against me as I sit in the rocking chair and sing over her. I treasure those moments.

But if my daughter is upset – you know, the kind of upset where baby doesn’t know why she’s crying but mommy knows it’s the kind of cry that comes from being too tired – then she is the furthest thing from a cuddle-bug. Instead of leaning into me, Claire arches her back, pushes away from me, throws her head back and cries even harder. It’s so frustrating.


“Love, if you’ll just rest against me. I know why you are upset. I know what you need. You need rest; you need to lay your head down and relax in my arms and just let me hold you. You need to cease striving. You need to be still.”

But she refuses to be comforted. Sometimes I just have to put her in her crib and let her cry for a good five or ten minutes before she will allow herself to be consoled. I just walked out of her bedroom, where I found her covered with tears, yes, and snot, and finally ready to be comforted. If only she had laid her head down the first time I offered my love.

“Be still and know that I am God.”

I know there are a lot of ways in which we need to “be still.” We need to turn off the noise, slow down the schedule, be in the moment. But right now, I’m thinking about my daughter. I am thinking about how instead of being still when she is overcome with fatigue and emotions, she responds to my presence with confusion and resistance and striving. She doesn’t want me to put her down, but she refuses to accept the rest that I offer.

And I’m thinking about how many times my Father has wanted to comfort me and I have refused to be still. I wonder how many times He has had to leave me alone to have my pity-party or my temper-tantrum and to cry out enough tears to finally be exhausted enough to receive His love. How many times do I respond to my out-of-control emotions, or my overwhelming circumstances, or my flat-out fatigue, by throwing my head back, arching my back and crying, when my Father is closer than I acknowledge, desiring to hold me and comfort me and remind me of His power and love and authority in my life?

“Child, if you’ll just rest against Me. I know why you are upset. I know what you need. You need rest; you need to lay your head down and relax in My arms and just let Me hold you. You need to cease striving. You need to be still.”