Awaiting Advent in a New Way

Angie says I'm sleeping for two now. I really appreciate her encouragement to nap more, and she may be onto something... Since this almost-four-pound wiggle worm rarely seems to sleep himself, I better sleep for him too.

As the squirming of the son we've yet to meet continues to increase, and we start to see my belly dance like a bowl full of jelly, I'm sometimes reminded of Santa this holiday season, but much more often I'm reminded of baby Jesus. And the one whose experience I am resonating with like never before is Mary. 

"I feel your heart beating

Inside my own skin

And I think of Mary

In Bethlehem" 

-Six Pence None the Richer, Last Christmas

I've heard people say that Christmas carols took on a whole new meaning when they became a Christian and started to actually hear the story in the lyrics. For me, the new awareness isn't of the shepherds, or the angels, or the wise men and their awe of the Baby God, but of Mary and her remarkable journey as He lived and grew inside her body.

How far did she really ride on that donkey at 9 months pregnant? I mean we're talking zero back support for days on a bouncy wobbly creature, when she could probably barely balance her new center of gravity on solid ground. And if she wasn't having contractions when she started that jarring ride, I suspect they were in full force by the time it came to an overdue end.

My dear traditional husband is not quite ready for us to try a home birth, so I can't imagine how he'd react to my suggesting a stable. However, at the rate I'm drinking gallons of milk these days, it might be nice to have a cow on hand. Also, as we're gathering lions and lambs to decorate our nursery, it sure would be lovely to have a real lamb or two to complete the collection. If a manger was good enough for the King of Kings, it's more than enough for our baby boy.

As Angie plays Mary Did You Know on repeat, the well known song has beautiful significance to me now.

"And when you kiss your little baby, you have kissed the face of God"

"The sleeping child you're holding is the great I Am"

And although I can't relate to Mary holding heaven's perfect Lamb, other familiar song lyrics are more familiar than ever.

"Then He smiled at me, pa rum pum pum pum" 

-Little Drummer Boy 

"What child is this, who laid to rest

On Mary's lap is sleeping" 
-What Child is This

"And the first breath that left your lips

Did you know that it would change this world forever"  

-Relient K, I Celebrate the Day

Although, our new addition will not be the Savior of All, I can't help but sit in wonder at the truth that his first breath will change this world forever. And I can only pray that his impact on this earth will be a reflection of the love of the other Infant we're so eagerly awaiting this Christmas.

Whether you're expecting in the pregnant sense of the word, or anticipating the celebration of the birth of Christ in two days, I hope you are finding beauty, awe, and wonder in the little things; the song lyrics, the sparkling lights, the simple pleasures of generosity and family togetherness, and the story of the newborn Christ's miraculous entrance into the world.

Because For King and Country says it so well, 

"Endless hope and relentless joy started with a Baby Boy" 

From a Fetus to a Newborn; the First Cry

I heard a baby cry in church yesterday, actually there were a lot of unhappy babies, but it was that first one that got my attention. I imagine infants have outbursts during almost every service, but this one little cry, so frantic and upset, startled me as I sat with my own silent son squirming in my belly. It awakened me into the reality, that soon, in a matter of mere weeks or months, Zy, our peaceful fetus, will be jolted from his own tranquil existence. That someday, this contented child will also cry and fuss, and be deliriously upset. 

I'm sure I knew this already, I must have thought about the first time he'll cry. But I hadn't thought about the fact that he's never cried before. This little guy, nearly as whole as the rest of us, just tinier and possibly cuter, has never known anything but serenity. What is the difference between his world and that of the newborn just a few days older than him wailing with panic just down the aisle?

The difference is not their number of days of development. If Zy comes today he will likely cry within minutes, if he comes in three months he'll do the same. Until then, however, he will remain as happy as a clam shelled up in my womb, twirling around banging into the walls that even as they encroach on his space, bring him comfort and security. Because every single one of his needs and desires is being met and has always been met. 

There are so many reasons that baby who was crying might have been distressed. She may have been hungry. She may have been cold or possibly too warm. She might have had a wet diaper or maybe a stomachache. She could have been frightened. She could have been overly tired. Or maybe she was just lonely...

For all of his nearly seven months, Zy has had every one of those needs met 24 hours a day. He has yet to want for anything. He's been fed so well he's never known hunger. His atmosphere has been kept at the perfect temperature such that he's never known a chill. He's been bedded down so luxuriously, padded between the pillows of my placenta and bladder that he's likely never had an itch and never felt pain. He amuses himself with somersaults and his umbilical cord so nicely that he's probably never even experienced boredom. As he rests and grows without the nuisance of diapers and clothing, his environment is the most hospitable anyone could ever ask for. Always right with me, next to my heart, he's never even known what it's like to be alone.

In Unwrapping the Greatest Gift, Ann Voskamp beautifully captures the difference between that newborn's fear and baby Zy's flawless trust,

"All fear comes from thinking that somewhere God's love will end." 

Zy will soon come into this outside world and learn what each one of us has decided for ourselves; that there is something to be afraid of, that God will let us down.

That first little squeal we'll hear from him, as the air touches his body, will be a bittersweet moment. A joyous occasion as we're reassured that his lungs can do their job and he can survive on the outside. But also a sad reminder that he too has believed the lie that God's love will end. And he, like the rest of us, will spend much of the rest of his life trying to unlearn that untruth, and remember how to be anxious for nothing and rely on Jesus to meet his every need.

Oh how I hope to be as competent a mother when this precious little one is no longer "safe" in my womb. But I recognize that, inevitably, I will fail to satisfy him many times. It's so reassuring to know that his Heavenly Father will never fail him...

Philippians 4:6-8

Making a List

Making a List...
Checking it Twice...
Gonna Find out Who's Naughty or Nice...

We're not a Santa family. I mean we don't go around saying "Bah Humbug" or anything, but we're just really clear that Santa and his paraphernalia is not the true reason for the season. So clear in fact, that when I came home from Dollar Tree with a few rolls of wrapping paper the other day Angie asked, "Why does this one have Santa on it?" Well, cause it also has little Rubys (translation: yellow lab puppies) on it, so how could I resist?

But the longer I live with a motivationally-challenged tweenager, the more respect I gain for whoever came up with the idea of using a sleigh full of toys for all the good girls and boys as a motivator to keep children in line for a few of the dreariest months.

Here is a moment we shared this afternoon:
Angie arrived home from school, shouted gleefully that she had no homework for the weekend, answered my questions about her vocab test, and chatted with me briefly. As the conversation died down I asked her to go upstairs, get dressed for conditioning, pack her clothes for tennis this evening, spending the night at the grandparents, and basketball tomorrow; to which I usually receive a multitude of groans, rebuttals, and eventually feet drug up the stairs in the most reluctant compliance possible. 

But this time, because of her no homework declaration, I was able to add 7 magic words to the end of my list of requests, "and then you can watch some videos." She squealed ecstatically and ran up the stairs to return, bags packed and hair fixed, in a mere 7 minutes, a task which would usually have taken at least half an hour and much cajoling on my part.

This is a lesson I've struggled to come to grips with. At bedtime, if we ask Angie to go get ready for bed, it takes between 20-35 minutes for her to brush her teeth, put on her PJs, and use the restroom, usually because she's stopped in front of the mirror to try out 5-15 new hairstyles in passing. If, however, we put it this way, "Angie if you get ready for bed  in 5 minutes, we'll have time to watch an episode of the Cosby Show," she will return in 3 minutes flat, sprinting down the steps like a track star.

The alternative is just as true. For the past almost 4 years, we've been using a behavior chart to determine her allowance, with a special treat for a "perfect" week. A few weeks ago she came home from school asking for a new sweatshirt. Good parents probably just buy their kids clothes when needed, but we make ours earn hers.  So, we said, how 'bout three good weeks and we'll buy you the sweatshirt; she agreed. However, we were in the middle of a week, which had already been less than perfect, so Angie continued with a rotten attitude for the next couple days. "Don't you want that sweatshirt?" I asked hoping to pull her out of her sassy disrespectful demeanor. "Yeah, but I have to wait till a new week to start getting that." And it struck me that our child, with no tangible carrot dangling in front of her nose, is a pretty unpleasant human being. Since then, for the past three weeks, she's been nearly an angel, but for those couple days in limbo between bribes, she was awful. That's who she really is when we're not paying her to behave??

So, as much as I want her to be a nice person because it's the right thing to do, because she has character, because Jesus is, I'm willing to slump to holding anything we can think of over her head in order to keep the peace, until maybe she learns that life really is a lot more fun when everyone's getting along. And maybe if the incentive comes from without long enough, it will eventually come from within.

After all, in the third trimester of pregnancy I really don't have any room to judge. I can barely muster my own motivation to get out of bed in the morning (or afternoon), change out of my husband's sweatpants, or cook anything fancier than grilled cheese and canned soup for dinner.

As adults, we rarely work in such obvious transactional models, but are we really much more motivated from within? Some of our stimuli for good behavior are tangible like paychecks, but many are much subtler like guilt, a sense of duty, and others' opinions of us. 

Ultimately, the best reason for being a "nice" person is only that God has extended us more grace, love, forgiveness, and kindness, than we could ever extend to anyone else. We've been given so much, if we allow His love to fill us, we'll be helpless to do anything but overflow into others. As one of Angie's primary examples of God's grace, I have all the more motivation to let His light shine through me, in hopes that she'll grow into her own imperfect reflection of Christ's unconditional love. 

Which, of course, is the true reason for the season...

"You are blessed! You get to bless! This is happiness!" 

-Unwrapping the Greatest Gift, Ann Voskamp

The Punkin's Vine

Zy (our fetus) and I are in perfect harmony. It's the first time I've ever harmonized with anything remotely well. But with Zy it's effortless. He goes where I go, he eats what I eat, hears what I hear, does what I do, he never even complains. It's kind of amazing, and I totally take it for granted that we won't be this synced forever.

Last weekend, at the pumpkin patch, Angie went straight for all the biggest pumpkins of course, but she was most intrigued by the ones with the best "hats," her word for the stem, since you take it off and put it back on like a hat after gutting it out to carve. We ended up with this handsome fella:

We were all immediately captivated by its big, beautiful, squiggly stem! 

As we were admiring it, my mom told Angie, "that's it's umbilical cord, literally." Before this  little guy was cut from its vine, it was connected to its mama, alive and thriving. 

Angie worries very much about umbilical cords. She's asked a number of times if it will hurt me or the baby when they cut the cord, and on this particular occasion, she asked if the pumpkin felt it. After we convinced her that no one was injured, nor will be, she thought about how big the pumpkin could have grown if it hadn't been removed from its vine. Insatiably inquisitive, she wanted to know what the biggest pumpkin ever was? Turns out many claim to have the world's largest pumpkin, but it looks like in 2013 there was a 2,032-pounder grown in Rhode Island.

What it lacked in aesthetics it made up for in size, I suppose.

In a few months Zy and I will lose our connection as well. From the moment the vine, I mean cord, is cut we'll have to work at our relationship. I'll be intentional about bonding with him and guiding him well, but he will immediately start to have experiences independent of me. While now I know when he moves and he knows when I move, he'll soon start to go places without me and gain a whole new perspective on the world apart from mine.

I understand that this is completely necessary for both of our survival, as I can barely carry this little 1.5 pound punkin, let alone a 1 ton giant. For him to continue to live and thrive, unlike the pumpkin, he must be set free from our attachment. But I am reminded of the Vine he will never need to be separated from, the one that can continue to give each of us life if we remain in It.

"I am the Vine, you are the branches. When you’re joined with Me and I with you, the relation intimate and organic, the harvest is sure to be abundant. Separated, you can’t produce a thing. Anyone who separates from Me is deadwood, gathered up and thrown on the bonfire. But if you make yourselves at home with Me and My words are at home in you, you can be sure that whatever you ask will be listened to and acted upon. This is how my Father shows who He is—when you produce grapes, when you mature as My disciples." - John 15:5-8 (TM)

Consumed by pregnancy, I am mesmerized by the thought of this Vine as an umbilical cord to God. When I think about how simple it is for Zy to abide in me, I desperately want that natural relationship with our Creator. Imagine just how enormous we could grow spiritually if we didn't constantly sever our connection to the Vine. Why do we choose to make our home outside of Him when we could live so richly and organically in His love? 

Jesus continued, “I’ve loved you the way my Father has loved Me. Make yourselves at home in My love. If you keep My commands, you’ll remain intimately at home in My love. That’s what I’ve done—kept my Father’s commands and made Myself at home in His love." -John 15:9-10 (TM)

Please Don't Tell My Daughter How Beautiful She Is

She already knows.

Much of our identities are based on what we're told early and often. If you hear something over and over, it's hard not to start believing it and owning it. 

For such a young impressionable one in our house, the repeated praise is about her physical beauty.

"Your skin's so flawless."

"Your nails are awesome!"

"You're so pretty!"

Last night, at a homeless ministry, a very well-meaning regular adult volunteer said these things to Angie:

"Your hair is SO beautiful. Like stunningly gorgeous! Do people just touch it all day long? You know, you could be a hair model!" 

The whole time I'm subtly making this gesture:

She knows she could be a hair model, someone needs to tell her she could be an astronaut if she applied herself!

Believe me, I don't think our friends, and random strangers, intend any harm with their gushing compliments of our 12 year-old's appearance. It seems like a good idea to tell someone when you have nice things to say, as we so often find ourselves with a mind full of the alternative. But maybe, in the long run, it's not really doing her a favor.

Maybe in the long run she's building her identity, brick by brick, compliment by compliment, around her beauty, a monument that will always be difficult to upkeep and will eventually come crashing down.  

  

What if, for instance, in the far off distant future, she ages, and her face becomes "flawed" with the lines and spots she sees on my skin and already worries about? Or what if she gets large and unwieldy in pregnancy, swollen in places she did not know could swell? Where will her self-worth come from then, if its foundation is laid on such shaky ground as her fleeting looks?

If she considers her form to be her best quality, because so many have told her it is so, what will she use when she needs or wants something, her brains or her body?

And who will she look to for friends and a future mate, people who appreciate her wit and personality, or men and women who see her for what's on the outside, because that's where her confidence lies?

So, for those of you who want to lift up our vulnerable tween in such a pivotal time of identity construction, thank you. But instead of praising her silky locks, especially after she's spent hours idolizing ditzy girls on Youtube to find the latest look and wasted nearly a can of hairspray to perfect the style, here are some suggestions for how to encourage her:

When you see her do something kind, say, "Angie, that was so sweet."

If sometime she gives more than was required, tell her, "That was very generous!" 

If you notice her make a good choice, confirm, "That was a wise decision."

When you see her work something out for herself, let her overhear you mention she used great problem solving skills.

And by all means, if you happen to catch her in a Christ-like moment, don't hesitate to let her know, "I think that's what Jesus would have done."

Then, when she's struggling for hours with difficult homework assignments, or wrestling through a stressful situation with peers, she'll have more to rest on than her voluminous mane of soft hair. Maybe she'll remember that she can be kind and giving, with a wonderful mind, and a trust-worthy Savior living inside of her to help her in tough times. Maybe she'll find her identity in her inner beauty and strength, and in Christ; none of which will ever fade.

And maybe this is such a hot-button issue for me, because I would do well to do the same...

Abounding Love to the Southeast

For the past six weeks, I’ve been careening wildly around the Southeast US, visiting my beloved vet school groups, sharing at conferences, and taking selfies. Yep, you heard me right, that’s what I do for a living now, thanks to my fabulous supporters; I take pictures of myself on my phone and call it ministry! To be fair, I’m using them to illustrate what our society has become focused on, but it’s been fun to tell a group of vets or students to give me their best peace sign and duck face.

Visiting Lincoln Memorial University’s brand new veterinary school, hoping to start their first club; Christian Veterinary Fellowship! (Prayer request: they meet next week to submit CVF as an official club, only 2 clubs of many will be selected this year.)

Mississippi State's great group!

Auburn's awesome crowd! War Eagle, Baby!

The fabulous Tuskegee club!

The University of Tennessee's packed house!

As many of the University of Florida's fantastic ladies as I could fit in the screen!

University of Georgia's wonderful students!

Since July, CVM has been studying our new annual verse;

“And this is my prayer: that your love may abound more and more in knowledge and depth of insight.” –Philippians 1:9

Ooh, I love the theme of “Abounding Love.” Clearly I’m a big fan of the Abounding part, as it’s been my project name for over 6 years now, and a goal of mine to overflow into others for longer than that. And of course, everyone loves Love. We “love” sunsets on the beach, cupcakes with lots of frosting, our furry pets, a savory filet mignon medium rare, our favorite sports team, and a comfy pair of jeans. Not to be too superficial though, we love our friends and family too. We love a good chat with a bestie, a cozy snuggle by the fire with a spouse, a tickle fight with one of the kiddos, a warm hug from a grandparent. We love to be loved! 

But why doesn’t Paul say, “…that your love may abound more and more in hugs and kisses and warm fuzzy gestures?” That must be what he meant, right? After all, the dictionary on my computer defines love as “an intense feeling of deep affection.”  Deep affection and knowledge and depth of insight are not very similar.

Our culture, the one where the selfie is taking over the world, has taught us that love is about us. It’s about how many “likes” or retweets my photo gets on Instagram, Facebook, or Twitter. It’s about whether my romantic partner is making me happy, and when he's not, finding another one. It’s about transactional relationships where love is reciprocal; it’s given to be returned.

We’re a few months from experiencing the event that most people say changes their understanding of love entirely; the birth of our first baby! In February, we fully expect to be overwhelmed, abounding even, with instant love for a little creature that won’t give us much more in return than a couple chubby cheeks to kiss, for quite some time. And I’m sure we’ll learn a new side of love that we can’t even imagine. But still, this love will be an emotion, one that likely will come naturally and effortlessly as we swoon over a precious newborn.

I think the love that Paul is talking about, however, isn’t one that comes easily to the heart, but one that flows with meditation from the mind. This is the love our daughter Angie has taught me.  A love that I must think about constantly, work on daily, and not always feel. One where the pouring out does not often come pouring back.

C. S. Lewis sums it up this way, "Love is not affectionate feeling, but a steady wish for the loved person's ultimate good as far as it can be obtained."

Paul encourages us, through conscious efforts to act out love with no expectations, to put the interests of others above our own. I challenge you too to love like Jesus, intentionally, and well.

“His love was not cautious but extravagant. He didn’t love in order to get something from us but to give everything of Himself to us. Love like that.” –Ephesians 5:2 TM

Consider someone in your life who may not be the most loveable, and meditate on how to love them extravagantly. I’ll pray for you as Paul did for the Philippians that your love may abound, I hope you’ll pray for me too.

And if you're excited about all the smiling faces above being touched with Christ's love, please consider partnering with my ministry through the "Partner" link, upper right. Thank you!