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Yearly Archives: 2011
I have relished every minute with him. He snuffled in his sleep. His head is oh so fuzzy. I can’t ever capture the pure perfection I see when I gaze at him. “The child must know that he is a miracle, that since the beginning of the world there hasn’t been, and until the end of the world there will not be, another child like him.” – Pablo Casals 9.27.10 . 3 wks old
Always busy, always building, he isn’t overwhelmed by the enormity of the world, doesn’t see what’s missing. He just makes what is necessary, crafting his dreams. I pray he never stops. The supplies I give him are not expensive, a bit of paint, wood, paper. What I pay dearly to give him is the time, long hours to think and tinker. And the innocence to know these models still matter more than video games or TV shows, that is priceless. 9-24-10 . 24-70
9-19-10 . 24-70 . window light . Sunday morning after having him, listening to sermon online . beautiful moment . getting to know Dad, gazing at Mom
I was looking at these photos while I waited for Photoshop to flatten and save the collage above. As I switched back and forth from images of children in Ecuador that Compassion bloggers are visiting, I was hit with the contrast and how blessed I am. Blessed, but also in a dangerous place -close to complacency. It’s easy to loose sight of the clean sheets I lay my baby down on, the bounty of clean water and fresh food I set upon the table. I complain to God about my comforts, and load my husband with more tasks after his long days of hard work. I fall into thinking I deserve as much and feather my nest, instead of falling grateful before His generosity. I wine and sulk as I drive home in my mini van after a day at the doctor with three kids. How blessed am I to bring my children to a doctor even for a minor illness?! not to have to watch them suffer and worry. He said; blessed are the poor in spirit, blessed they who mourn, blessed the meek. I don’t know if we can manufacture those attitudes. Maybe they are just the fruits of suffering. So his message to me? Be warry of how my heart strays when it is comfortable – and be grateful. And what do I give my boys? I make them a home and teach them knowledge, but what good is that if it’s empty of His words? Am I more concerned with filling their closets and intellects than pouring His spirit into them? America can’t remember how to make it work, who to turn to for help, and families splinter and smolder in the aftermath. This is our one chance to make it work, to show them Who makes all things work together for good. He who holds love and truth, contentment and a clear conscience amidst all our castles in the air.
I, I can’t promise you that I won’t let you down But we’re young, open flowers in the windy fields I ran away But what if I was wrong? But hold on to what you believe in the light And now this land means less and less to me So what if I was wrong? But hold on to what you believe in the light So hold on to what you believed in the light – Mumford and Sons my new favorite song |
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