Motherhood & Family

Wisdom To Number Our Days

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(from Instagram)

My heart has been feeling achy these days. Having a newborn has made me realize how our years with her siblings have flown by. It also reminds me how little time they all have left here with us.

Like a dream. Like grass that grows and withers. This is how the psalmist describes our years on earth (Ps.90). So in light of our fleetingness, he asks God to teach us to number our days. This, he writes, is how we gain wisdom.

I have seen lately how my parenting is often downright foolish. I am irritable instead of grateful for the moments God grants me with my children. I respond to them with harshness instead of commending Christ. I waive opportunities to build our relationship in the name of busyness. And when I do these things, I am forgetting that my years, and our years together, are numbered.

Teach us to number our days that we may get a heart of wisdom- Ps. 90:12.— I need this divine, day-numbering wisdom so badly.

I need this wisdom to look through my children’s behavior and aim to win their hearts. To discipline with their 13, 18, and 30 year-old future selves in mind.

I need this wisdom to build them up with words of grace and not just give orders. To remember the significance of the years between us is growing smaller by the day. One they will one be my peers and hopefully friends.

I need this wisdom to seize every opportunity to make much of Christ. To put down what I’m doing when possible and help my children see the goodness of God while I still can.

I need this wisdom to enjoy my time with them. To stop and thank God for the fleeting, sweet craziness of life with 3 young children and an infant.

Parents, truly, our days may be long, but our years are short. Let’s look to number them rightly — these exhausting, sweet, bitter, good, frustrating days— that God may grant us hearts of wisdom.

Taking Heart

On Whale Sharks and Wonder

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(from Instagram)

The world will never starve for want of wonders; but only for want of wonder.
– GK Chesterton

Wooow, my boy says to himself. He’s a bit scared that the fish are so close. But still, wooow, he repeats. Our hearts expand— mine with joy, his with wonder.

Did you know there are fish that can look up through their own transparent skulls? Or that after decades of research and even trackers on female whale sharks, we still don’t know where they give birth? They go into the deeps and scientists’ screens go black.

At the aquarium, I think of whale sharks and the nature shows our family loves. I think in wonder of all of creation exclaiming his praise.

I need more wonder most days.

Sometimes my life seems too small. My living and working feel obscure. And I need the reminder that God’s infinite creativity reaches the depths. That there are amazing creatures whose existence are hidden from human eyes. They have proclaimed his glory for thousands of years.

Just because our lives are unseen by most doesn’t mean they aren’t beautiful. What happens before God alone can still be glorious.

Sometimes my life feels too big. My here and now consume me. It feels as if all I see in my little sphere is all there is, and God’s arm is too short to reach in. I need wonder then too.

I need to remember how much there is still undiscovered on our own planet, created for his pleasure alone, giving glory to him in the depths, heights, and beyond! How his powerful hands have wrought wonders beyond comprehension, “and these are but the outer fringe of his works” (Job 26:14)!

God is more than big enough for my world.

Perhaps your life feels too big or too small for God today. Might I commend to you the discipline of wonder?

Consider the heavens, the moon and the stars (Ps. 8:3). Look up at the skies, pouring forth speech, attesting to his glory (Ps. 19:1). Maybe go to the aquarium or turn on a nature documentary. All you see is but the outer fringes of your Creator’s work.

Perhaps wonder might expand your heart to give you the perspective you need. May you wooow today to his glory and for your good.

Motherhood & Family

Greater Is He

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(from Instagram)

I felt the fall last night, the pain of childbearing. In the beating my body has taken in birthing and caring for a newborn. In the toil of raising sinful children. In my own hard-heartedness.

***

I’m sick of dealing with sin.

I think that to myself after refereeing another bedtime squabble. Nothing new, but it’s the mundanity of the self-centeredness that gets to me, that pervasive inward curvature of sin. I think about what it would be like to raise children in a pre-Genesis 3 world. I’m tired and mad and tired.

I retreat from their room when the Spirit speaks: Greater is he who is in you than he who is in the world (1 Jn 4:4). A cheery voice calls from across the hall, “Mom, can we pray together?” It is a divine invitation.

I‘m still angry, but what am I going to do? Say, “No!“? So I reenter. First, anything you’re thankful for? Then, more accusatory than I‘m proud of, anything you need to say sorry for?

Their confessions catch me unguarded and convict me. They share specific moments from the day I hadn’t noticed. They give humble insights on their weaknesses. They apologize and forgive. My heart softens. We talk about friendship and family and seeing each other’s sin. I’m asked for verses that will help with a particular struggle with the flesh. We talk about Christ’s forgiveness and the Spirit’s help.

Then we pray.

I pray the gospel over us, over me. It is sheer grace I am able to do so. God himself turned the tide; he spoke, he invited, he softened.

All in spite of me, my sin, and the fall.

***

“Sometimes when I’m in a bad mood, it’s hard to do the right thing,” she says.

Me too, baby. But, praise be to God— greater is he who is in us than he who is in the world.

Taking Heart

My Baby Girl Smiled

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(Reposted from Instagram)

Men are afraid to have good thoughts of God. They think it is a boldness to eye God as good, gracious, tender, kind, loving. I speak of saints. They can judge Him hard, austere, severe, almost implacable, and fierce (the very worst affections of the very worst of men, and most hated by God). Is not this soul-deceit from Satan? Was it not His design from the beginning to inject such thoughts of God? Assure yourself, then, there is nothing more acceptable to the Father than for us to keep up our hearts unto Him as the eternal fountain of all that rich grace which flows out to sinners in the blood of Jesus.
– John Owen

My baby girl smiled.

Oh, the way her bright eyes turned crescent and her little mouth opened to almost laughing! I laughed with her, and was so moved by her that I teared up. I know it’s a newborn reflex, but that’s fine. She’s mine, and she smiled, and I love her so.

That was yesterday, and I am thinking today: If I, with my finite love, can take such delight in my daughter, how much more does our infinite Father delight in us, his children?

Some see God as a cosmic, soft, permissive, Santa. Their wrong thoughts of him don’t allow them to see his holiness, justice, and wrath. But I am constantly tempted to see God as harsh, disapproving, and impossible to please. My wrong thoughts of God cloud my vision of his steadfast love and Fatherly delight. How far from the truth this is and how it must grieve him.

Perhaps you are like me, jealous to uphold God’s holiness but timid about his love. To God’s children who are like me–

…What if we dared to believe that God delights in his creation?

…That he regards us with joy and love— fruits of the Spirit?

…That as he makes us more like Christ, he rejoices in the image of himself he sees in us?

…That as a father has compassion on his children, so the Lord has compassion on those who fear him? (Psalm 103:13)

…That he sent his Son to save, because that’s how much he loves?

How we would know him more truly and love him more deeply!

Beloved, believe. May you smile to think of his love for you today. And would you know his delight for you when you do.

Motherhood & Family

Garden, Not Museum

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(Reposted from Instagram)

“Mama! I make dinosaur!”

I’ve been learning that caring for a home is less like curating a museum and more like tending a garden.

Gardeners can’t set and forget. They don’t expect their plots to stay weed-free after an afternoon of work. Their space is not sterile or pristine. But in the tangle of stems, leaves, and roots comes a harvest.

In the home, there’s also always more to do. Laundry and organizing and spilled milk and homework and hungry children and fussy babies. This can be so frustrating when we’re doing the same thing day in and day out. And especially so when little people seem to follow us around undoing what we’ve done.

But from this soil God brings a harvest. Of loved children. Of fun and laughter. Of mom learning patience. Of all of us learning forgiveness. Of helpful big sisters graciously cleaning up blue dinosaurs.

Of grace.

Where there are no oxen, the manger is clean, but abundant crops come by the strength of the ox. (Proverbs 14:4)