Heidi here this year! (Can we all heave a big sigh of disappointment? I know, I’m not the one with the funnies coming out left and right. Hope you survive!)
Life through kids’ eyes is the best. When God walked the earth, He specifically welcomed children, and called us to have our eyes wide open, childlike, to seeing Him on the move around us and in us.
The other night, Sophia (7) stood by my bed and just started telling me the griefs weighing her heart down, and the ways she saw God more clearly through them. She misses our miscarried babies, Davey (2011) and Emmy (this summer), and Jesse’s grandma (2013). Emmy has been an especially difficult loss for her – for all of us! – because she was really hoping the baby would be her much-longed-for sister. But she said she has been learning to trust God more when she’s sad or afraid of loss. This conversation happened in a season when I have not been able to parent and disciple as much as I would like (morning sickness again), and God used it to show me that He is ultimately the One gently leading and guiding our children’s hearts. He is a good, good Father.
Most of the time, Sophia is a spunky ray of sunshine, busily experimenting with melodies on the piano and leading her little brothers in adventures, and these glimpses into her deeper thoughts aren’t common, so I treasure them. We are so enriched and comforted by her sympathetic heart. I’m 10 weeks pregnant now, in the thick of morning sickness, and Sophia says sweetly every day, “Aw, Mom, I hope you feel better really soon!”
Her brothers are no different. Elijah (4) often comes up and with those great big, soulful, long-lashed eyes, he says, “Can I do anything for you, Mom?” Sometimes he does, sometimes he forgets his good intentions and runs off in merry play. He is eager to do workbooks like the big kids, make jokes like the big kids, and stay up with the big kids, and yet when he gets time with just me and/or Jesse, he is beyond delighted and wants to know if the big kids can go away again so he can have another date with us. He’s such a sweet kid. And at devotion times when the others get scolded for being noisy, he chimes, “I want to know God better, Mom! I’m listening.” Hand him a halo, somebody.
John-Michael (9) is a champ. His brain never stops, which means his chores regularly take longer than I thought humanly possible, and his bath room visits (he’s going to hate me for this when he’s older) are record-breaking in length because he reads tomes in there. I know, you’re thinking, “ban the books!” Sometimes I do. And sometimes I let it go because I know how much a mind like his loves to eat up ideas. I’m married to a man whose mind works like that. An endless trail of activities, inventions, money-earning schemes, and learning opportunities follow J-M everywhere, some completed, some forgotten. Much of it is self-guided, and I don’t say this out of pride (“oh, look at my self-taught child!”). On the contrary, it’s because he tires me out. I’m thankful he loves to learn, and is passing on that passion to his siblings. And really, when his brain is directed to what’s at hand, he’s a very reliable boy. I lean hard on him, and see so much of his dad in him in the way that he looks out for his siblings, takes on responsibility at home, and wants God.
We’re in the middle of a cold snap (-20s C), and I’m beginning to wonder if I can order a hamster wheel sized for a toddler. Because I have a hilarious, exuberant 2 year old named Justin who hasn’t been out to play for over a week, and needs a safe outlet for his energy. Jumping off couch arms doesn’t count as safe in my books. Or running down the hall with his head back, Eric Liddell-style. It worked for Eric Liddell, but he had better coordination. The other day J-M was watching Justin getting all wild, tried to calm him down, and shouted, “Dad, you’d better get the van ready! Justin’s going to need the hospital soon.”
Justin’s face is as lively as his little body. His delivery of statements or “jokes” makes us all laugh, which makes him giggle and try again for the same reaction. He asks a lot of questions about the how’s and why’s of things, and offers much commentary on life as well, with sage nods of knowingness. There are many times I look at him and thank God for this kid who makes us want more kids.
Of course, I don’t have to look far for inspiration on the kid-making front… (whistle) Enter Jesse. What a dude. What a guy. What a real man! I tell him he’s my dream: tall, dark, and handsome, and he says ever so humbly, “Well, at least I know I’m one of those.” Continue reading…