Learning & Teaching Gratitude

So I've been trying something new this year to help me and my family appreciate and practice the holiday of Thanksgiving. Normally, Thanksgiving is a holiday that sneaks up on me, and almost seems like a nuisance. I usually am too eager for Christmas to be bothered with giving thanks. Bring on the stuff, please! But God has been opening me up more and more to RECEIVE his gifts, and to acknowledge that He is the Giver by simply thanking Him. I have found that this has been helping me trust God more and to live more contentedly.

So to practice this, I combined several ideas from Pinterest, including templates of the leaves that I printed and then cut out, and Ann Voskamp's blog, A Holy Experience, to create our leaf mural.

Each day, usually after dinner, we think about something in particular that we want to thank Jesus for. We write it down on one side of the leaf. Then, I read a verse from Scripture regarding thanksgiving that Ann Voskamp compiled, and we write the reference on the opposite side. Then, we tape the leaf to the wall. It's quite simple, which is good for this crafty-challenged mamma, but it does help us to pause, reflect on our day, and express thanks to Jesus for his gifts to us.

Usually Jed has needed a lot of prompting for this activity and will name whatever is right in front of him or something we've suggested to him. So I've doubted if he really understands the meaning of the activity at all. Still, I know that simply getting into the motions of such a tradition can be valuable for him in the future as he'll come to understand the meaning.

But today, out of the blue, in the middle of the day, he points up at the leaves and says, "Rubber ducky on a leaf." It takes me a few tries to understand what he is saying and then I realize that he's initiating his participation in the activity today. He's thankful for his rubber ducky and wants to write it on a leaf. So I grab a leaf, write it down, share the verse for the day, and we tape it on the wall. Jed points to it a few times, "Rubber ducky? Rubber ducky?"

"Yes, Jed," I say, "your rubber ducky is up there." And he walks away happy, as do I. It was exciting to see that he had internalized the significance enough to think of something on his own, without prompting. I suppose there is more he understands than he lets on!

Fear Posing as Reluctance

2 Timothy 1:5-7 "I have been reminded of your sincere faith...For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you... For God did not give us a spirit of timidity (or fear), but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline."

I was reminded of this verse today through a discussion of Emily Freeman's A Million Little Ways in which she awakens us to come alive to the gifts and the art that God has uniquely placed within each of us. (Plug: It's a good read and I recommend it). I've been reading it mainly in light of how God has called me to be a mother since I struggle with an image of motherhood in my head that I just can't live up to.

I know I am called, not just by nature of the fact that He has given me children, though that should be enough... but also through His whispers and nudges as I've read His Word over the last few years. The day I discovered that I was pregnant with Jedidiah, I fell on my knees in a sense of awe and worship. It was a holy moment between God and I. He felt so close and I sensed Him say to me that I needed to see my child as a special gift, one that I would give back to God. Later, through a counselor, God said to me that it wasn't my own effort or desire that had brought Jed to me, but that God had specifically ordained his time to come into the world, and that God had specifically given him to me. (Acts 17:26-27) In many times, and many ways, God has taught me that my calling as a mother is not something to be taken lightly, or taken as circumstance, but taken from Him, as His will and calling for my life.

Despite the special messages and encouragements, I continue to struggle with my calling as a mother. I realized today that the prime suspect is not pinterest, or jealousy, or the fact that I'm not crafty. No, it is simply -- FEAR. Fear that I am not cut out for this. Fear that I will do it wrong and screw up my kids. Fear that I will compromise my self and not be happy. My rantings and ravings about not fitting in the "crafty-mom" mold is simply a symptom of my fear and an excuse that I use to justify myself. I'm not saying that is who I need to be, but I've used the, "I'm not the crafty mom" excuse to hide from my responsibility.

I have already discussed in a previous post that my calling is not to conform to the standard moms of this world. But the calling is to be uniquely me in my motherhood. Today I realized how much the prospect of living that out actually terrifies me. I see no trail in front of me. I must be the trail blazer, and my fear of "doing it wrong" or the fear of criticism because I'm doing it "different" causes me to shrink and freeze and want to run. So I've continued to use reluctance and distraction to mask my terror of showing up as the one of a kind mother that only I can be.

I love the way Paul encourages Timothy in the passage above. So often we just say, "But God does not give us a spirit of fear..." as if to say, so just stop being scared. Paul actually acknowledges Timothy's fear, but he gives Timothy reason to move past the fear. He first reminds Timothy that it all start with his sincere faith... sometimes I feel like I'm faking my faith and it is so encouraging when a friend can point out and say, "No, I see your sincere faith... it is apparent." Faith does not originate or end with us anyway. The faith we have has comes from God because he loves us and so we can treasure the faith we have, knowing that God will continue to grow it. That faith points to God, who does the work in me. It's not up to me! The pressure is off!

For this reason, the reason of the sincere faith given by God, Paul says that we can fan into flame the gift of God, the calling of God. We can experiment, we can try and fail, we can use our resources, and abilities, and gifts to grow the gift given to us. This is our part and then Paul reminds us of God's resources that will allow our resources to flourish. He reminds us that the fear we feel, is not from God, though it may be there. But that with God we can draw upon power (the energy and ability to do it), love (the motivation and heart for another's good), and self-discipline to accomplish the work He's given us to do. We are equipped, even if not within ourselves. Even if we don't feel it.

So how many more posts will I have to write before I actually begin putting this into practice? I want to say zero, but realistically, you will probably have to be patient with me just a little longer. As I do experiment, I will try to post about them because I assume that I'm probably not the only mom out there who feels this way. ;)

The Kick of Life

I generally don't expect hard things to happen to me... that is until they happen to my friends. In the last six months, two friends have called me and poured out their painful stories of miscarriage. Both of them discovered their loss at an early appointment where they hoped to hear a heartbeat. Instead there was a hollow and empty quiet. Instead of a heartbeat, there was heartache. Instead of life, there was loss.

So I held my breath as the screen flickered, gray and fuzzy. I had felt queasy all morning, uncertain if it was due to normal first trimester nausea, or more likely, the dread I was carrying that I would make that same devastating discovery. A small dark hole appeared to be holding a tiny teddy bear, still and quiet. It hunkered, motionless and for a second I thought that my worst fears had been confirmed...

And then...

his whole body jerked awake, with L I F E! He threw his hands and feet out and turned his body to see what was disturbing his sleep. I laughed with joy at this little ball of Life, recently named Fetus.

"Is there a heartbeat?"

I was still wary, my fears lingered in the background.

"Of course there is," said my doctor. "Didn't you see it move?"

My fears had blocked that logical conclusion from registering until the doctor vocalized it and I breathed a sigh of relief. Then she showed me the heartbeat. I delighted in the next 2 minutes as I watched my next little progeny turn in my womb and show me his gray, fuzzy outline.

Life! Grace! Undeserved!

Why me and not them? It's a pointless question to ask. I think of my friends and I mourn for their loss. I don't want to minimize their pain in any way. In fact, I know that God intends to redeem their pain, and in the process they will help others. And they know this too. For some, they will help others by being able to empathize with those who miscarry. Today, they gave me a great gift.

Because most of the time, I sail through life expecting to automatically receive God's gifts. I expect things to go well, and when they do, I don't give it a second thought. I don't thank God. I continue to wear my princess crown, falsely assuming that of course, I deserved it.

Why wouldn't it turn out all right?

Today was different. I was aware of my vulnerability and inability to control what I would find. And when I received the gift, I felt fully grateful, instead of maybe, entitled, smug, indifferent? Sure, I still would have felt excited, but I would not have realized the fullness of the miracle and gift I had snatched as if it belonged to me all along.

I've been crocheting a blanket for the new baby and the other day I remembered the Psalm,

"You knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you, Lord, for I am fearfully and wonderfully made... My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together... your eyes saw my unformed body." (Psalm 139:13-15)

I looked down at my blanket and realized how aware I am of each stitch, intentional with each stitch, the placement of each color of yarn, of each row and how it flows with the previous one. I am also aware of each small idiosyncrasy in my blanket and how I will piece each part together until it becomes a whole. God knows us that intimately and more.

"For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus..." (Ephesians 2:10)

As Emily Freeman puts it, we are God's poem, his work of art. (A Million Little Ways, by Emily Freeman)

God is intentionally creating each one of us, small and big, weak and strong. I believe that even those pieces of art that seemingly go unfinished has a purpose and an art for its life given by his Creator.

What if I kept this truth in the forefront of my mind all the time... for myself, for my husband, for my children, for the homeless man on the corner, for the person sitting across from me at Starbucks? How would my life look different if I walked through life, holding this knowledge about the beauty and gift of God's created people?
Would I slow down?
Would I smile more?
Would I enjoy and see more value in being a stay at home mom?
Would I be more creative in the way I interact with people?
Would I have more compassion?

I pray that God would allow the revelation of today's ultrasound linger in my life.
I pray that He would redeem my friends' loss far beyond what they can imagine.
I pray that I would be filled with gratitude at the grace He's given me in this new life, growing inside.
And I pray that He would transform the way I see my role as a mother.

*Note: We do not yet know if our baby is a boy or girl, but since I didn't want to refer to the baby as an "it" I chose to refer to him as a he until we know the sex.