Notes from the Road: Counting Stars and Saying Prayers

The night we arrived in Jeffrey’s Bay Mark and Abel had a training to host at the local YWAM base. I decided to stay home with Asher after the busy day of travelling. He had a good bath (since he’d pooped on himself, and me, earlier that day) and he was dressed in the jammies my Mom gave him that have the dogs on them…the ones I love sooo much even though they’re getting a little tight.

Do you need a pajama reminder so you can picture it for yourself? It’s a Bear with curls reminder, too!

Awesome pajamas.

When I realised we still had a half hour to bed time, we walked out onto the balcony and the Bear sat in my lap and we looked up at the bright bright stars and pointed at an occasional airplane flying by. Special moment!! I recited a little poem for him from the Tiny Bear Bible Rory and Sarah gave him. (Yes, I’ve read it enough times to memorize it, easily.)

In the beginning, before time began,
God was right there and he had a great plan.
He flung stars into space, He painted the sky
He lit up the sun, He taught birds how to fly.
But the crown of creation, He saved for the end
He made Adam and Eve and became their best friend.

As I finished, I pointed up at the stars and wished I could better communicate to my twenty-month-old something about the God who created the stars we were looking up at. I think I said something like, “Asher, God created all those stars up there, every one. And He’s the God who created you and loves you very much. You need to remember this, Asher!”

As I sat there, with this tiny boy who still fits in my arms and my lap, I just had this sudden epiphany (well it somehow felt like an epiphany even though it has come to mind at other times): Gosh, he’s really not going to be tiny and fit in my arms forever! And I was teary-eyed, okay I’ll be honest, more than a little tear-eyed, to consider the fact that he is going to grow up and not always going to listen to what we say — he is going to make his own choices about what he believes and how he chooses to live his life. There might be a day when he doesn’t believe in the God who created the stars and the air we breathe and his precious soul, but we pray every night as we put him to bed that he will indeed know and love the God we serve — and we believe those prayers will become a reality! But still, the letting go is a heart-sore thought.

Isn’t it amazing that the Lord lets go of us — He creates us and then lets go and lets us choose how to live our lives, and whether or not we’ll love Him? If I’m really honest, I think if I had a choice, I might decide to keep this little one small enough to always stay in my arms, because I feel like I could always help him make good choices, and keep him safe, and make sure he knows the God who flung all those stars up there.

Sure gives me a lot to think about.

xCC

Sometimes You Just Have to Laugh

We went up Table Mountain Tuesday. Our visitors ended up staying an extra day and a half thanks to the issues with air travel in Europe, and the weather cleared up, so the timing was perfect. And one of our co-workers offered to pay for our tickets to the top, so we were there! Thanks, Courtney!

Table Mountain is a beautiful flat-topped mountain in the middle of Cape Town. Here’s a view from the top, looking towards Cape Town City Bowl. Robben Island, where Nelson Mandela spent some of his 27 years of imprisonment, is the little island you see in the background.

I had a good Mountain-Top laugh Tuesday. If I manage to pull a Biblical lesson out of this one, I think you should consider me a magician. It’s really just a funny story, and I thought you might enjoy laughing at with me.

At the top of Table Mountain, they have some special toilets. When you have a toddler with a soggy diaper on your hands, you might not have an extra moment to read the special sign on the way in that explains that the toilets are similar to the ones designed for use on airplanes. Such was the case for me. I saw something about a Boeing 747 and that the toilet paper was “green” even though it was brown, but I didn’t care. I was just looking for the Baby Changing station.

After the Bear had some clean duds, I decided to take the opportunity to use the potty myself, since I didn’t know where we were headed next or how long it would be before I had another opportunity.

The toilets were strange to say the least. They reminded me of a porta-potty. Once you opened the stall door, there were two big steps UP to get to the toilet. I hung the diaper bag on the door, stood the Bear on the middle step and then stepped up to quickly tinkle. The Bear often comes to the loo with me in public and stands there politely while I use the potty. He usually appreciates it when he gets to be the one to flush.

However, on this particular occasion, he seemed a little uneasy. Maybe it was because the ginormous airplane-like toilet was five feet up in the air and just plain weird.

So.

There I am going for a tinkle, when the Bear decides he’s totally not cool with this ginormous mountain-top toilet scenario. He decides to step down from the middle step where he was standing. Now did I mention that each of these steps is like a foot and a half high? As you might guess, when you are about two feet high, a one foot drop might as well be a jump off the high dive. Clearly the Bear hadn’t thought this through.

He takes his leap of faith and falls forward, and his head hits the door, causing it to swing w  i  d  e open. And he is lodged between the foot and a half high step and the wall of the bathroom stall. Crying, and as it appeared from my view four feet above, pretty darn uncomfortable.

So I do what any Mom would do in such a situation.

I stand up, reach down to grab him, and pull him up to sit on my lap.

Meaning.

I am sitting on this big old potty five feet in the air with my trousers around my ankles, a wailing baby in my lap, and the stall door wide open for anyone who would care to venture a look in my direction plenty of time to snap a shot with their iPhone. I console the Bear, and I can only smile and giggle, because

#1 This is motherhood at its finest. And #2 No one is around to enjoy the moment with me. Praise the Lord.

I’m really quite thankful the restroom attendant had stepped out at that point. I wondered if the men outside the loo trying to use the pay phone heard a thud, a wail and a big squeal. I was too busy giggling my way back to Hero Hubs to tell if they stared at me when I walked past.

I suppose sometimes, when you find yourself in a situation where it would be easy to freak out or get flustered, it’s a good idea to decide to laugh. The Bear survived without a bruise, and I didn’t end up flashing anyone. And if that’s not a good reason to be of good cheer, I don’t know what is. You know, a cheerful heart is good medicine, but a downcast spirit dries up the bones. (Proverbs 17:22)

Perhaps we should all take a moment to have a good laugh today. Even if you have to have a laugh at my expense, it’ll do your heart some good. 🙂

xCC

Here’s another mountain-top shot, with a Bear who was none too keen on being photographed. I’ll share some more soon.


Dear Little Bear OR Last Week’s Top Ten

Dear Bear Bear,

We had a really special week last week. I decided to record it here on my blog so that perhaps ten years from now you can come back and read it and laugh with me. I like doing Top Ten Lists, which probably makes no sense to you right now, but at least the other readers can enjoy it in the meantime.*

These were the Top Ten Special Moments we had with special little you, just last week.

10. You decided to stop going in your dishwasher box play house to use your pretend cell phone. Instead you walked around the house holding it to your ear and saying Hey-low? Hay-yo? Hay-low? It was a new week’s worth of evidence to your Mom and Dad that you’re pretty much a genius.

"Have you run the numbers yet? Well then I'm gonna have to get back to you on that."

9. I was feeling sick on Thursday and stayed in bed most of the day. When your Dad got you up from your nap, you walked right into my bedroom, waved your tiny hand at me, and said “Hey!” It was the highlight of my day.

8. You yawned in my face one night and it was the first time I’d ever smelled you have bad breath. It was very endearing and sweet, fortunately. I feel like a Mom for remembering and appreciating that.

7. You decided to give a glass full of very red drink a good shake, and it managed to creatively decorate one little sleeve of your white long sleeve top. It also managed to creatively decorate my prayer journal.

6. And the floor and my grocery receipts.

5. Oh yeah, and my laptop.

4. You learned to sign “sorry” last week, and although developing this knowledge was unrelated to the previously mentioned incidents, it has been really precious to see you say you’re sorry when you do something you shouldn’t. If there’s anything folks need to learn how to say, it’s I’m sorry, so I think you’re off to a good start. What’s really delightful is that you often sign it with both hands at the same time, so I think you’re indicating that you’re really sorry. Good Bear!

3. I have no idea why, but you had copious amounts of gas last week. Your Dad and I found it hilarious, and once you realised that, I think you decided to keep tooting as much as you could just for the laughs. At least the gas didn’t make you unpleasant. It sure was funny.

It Wasn't Me

2. You gave me a fat lip last week. WWF style. I mean you really tackled me with a head butt and I had to get up and walk away to overcome the urge to cry at my throbbing lip. Man, you’re growing up fast!

1. You woke up from two naps super grumpy, which is unusual for you, but you decided the best way to overcome those grump-grumps was to let me hold you and rub your back. You never sit still with me for that long unless we’re reading or watching Veggie Tales! I was teary-eyed enjoying those special moments with your little head resting on my chest. I’m glad you’re not a grumpy bear, but I sure don’t mind getting to cuddle you for a while!

All in all, Bear Bear, it was a pretty special week. And even though you almost killed my MacBook, I’ve never loved you more. Thanks for bringing our lives so much sparkle!

Lots of Love,
Mom

*The other readers might also be happy to know my MacBook is up and running again! Hooray!

Hitting the Blogging Pause Button OR The Bear, the MacBook and the Very Red Drink

See this little guy?

The one you’ve (hopefully) come to love because you see pictures of him all the time, and we tell you how great he is?

Well, yesterday he decided to give a big glass of a very red drink a shake to see what happened. And it just so happened that the very red drink was right next to … my laptop. Hmm.

So. We drained it out, let it dry, and it started up later that night, which was very exciting.

But then it didn’t start this morning. Sigh.

So, we’re letting my MacBook dry out. Which is kind of a bummer because I was excited to tell you a really cool story today. I had it all written out and everything. But instead, I have this story for you.

The story of the Bear, the MacBook, and a very red drink.

If you don’t hear from me for a few days, you’ll know why. (I’m on Mark’s laptop right now, in case you’re wondering.) Please say a prayer for my MacBook. And another for the Bear.

We still love him!

We just hope he doesn’t try that trick again.

xCC

Note: No Bears were harmed in the damaging of the laptop. If it had been Da-da’s laptop, however, it might have been a different story. 🙂

The Bear’s First Fat Lip

It seems like a boyhood milestone, doesn’t it? Our walking, talking, dancing, puzzle-completing Bear is growing up so quickly. And the Bear’s first fat lip happened yesterday! Are you dying to see it?

Look here!

I was using a different camera lens … sorry some of these are a bit blurry.

Don’t see anything? Let’s take a closer look here:

Still don’t see anything? How about now?

Okay, here’s a real close closeup.

Wait — those don’t look like the Bear’s lips do they?

Well, as it turns out, the Bear’s first fat lip was given, rather than received. His Mommy was wrestling him on the floor. He sacked me on first down.

The Grandpa on the west side of the pond will be glad to know I think we have a left tackle ready to cover the blindside on our hands. Here’s hoping he’ll wear Purple and Gold!

xCC

Redemption on the Playground OR The God Who’s in Your Corner

This post, and the special picture at the bottom are for my Dad. Thanks for being in my corner!

I was a really puny kid. Almost always the smallest in the class. On picture day, they lined us up according to height, shortest to tallest, and I always went first and held up the little sign with the teacher’s name and the date. Most of the time I liked being little — it made me feel special. But on one particular day, let’s just say it wasn’t to my advantage.

There was a game we used to play on the playground called Four Square. You took turns in one of the four squares, bouncing the ball to a different square and hoping the next person couldn’t return it. You advanced through each square to the first square, the square where you served the ball, and hoped to stay there for as long as possible. The kids who weren’t in one of the four squares usually just stood in a queue/line and waited by the last square for their turn, when someone else “got out.”

On one particular day, I was about ten years old at the time, one of the other girls in the class let’s call her Janet decided I had skipped her in line, and she was upset with me about it. I most certainly had not skipped Janet, but she was upset anyway. It’s important to remember that I was a pipsqueak and easy to pick on. Janet called another girl over to help “solve” the problem. Let’s call her Mary Sue. Now this is to the best of my rememberance what went down. Mind you I was ten…this isn’t an exact play by play.

Janet: “Mary Sue, come on over here! Caroline skipped me in the line.”

Mary Sue came over. She was only a little older, but significantly bigger than me. I was a pipsqueak, remember?!

Janet: “Come hold Caroline’s arms down so I can kick her.”

At this point I am really concerned. I don’t know what to do. I’m about to be backed into a corner by a kid that’s much bigger than me, so that another kid can kick me. And unjustly so!  I start to feel hot and nervous and my heart is racing.

Mary Sue comes over and holds my arms to my sides. I am terrified and by now my heart is pounding out of my chest — I don’t want to be kicked!!

And then something happened even I didn’t expect. In the heat of the moment, backed into a corner, threatened to have the mess kicked out of me, my playground survival instincts kicked in. It’s like I can’t even remember it. But when the dust cleared, and the moment had passed, I had not been kicked. Not even once.

Why not, Caroline? How did you get out of it?

When all the chips were down, my arms held to my sides, and my legs too short to deliver a kick, I bit Mary Sue.

And though I can’t remember it, I have a feeling that when the playground survival instinct kicked in, it wasn’t just a little bite. I mean to tell you I bit her.

I only vaguely remember having the chance to tell my side of the story to the teacher. I know my Mom was informed. Mary Sue’s Mom worked at our school, and she decided to take Mary Sue to the doctor for a shot. It was not my favourite elementary school experience, to say the least.

That evening when I was home from school, I was a little worried. My Mom didn’t say much about it, but I was afraid my Dad was going to be mad at me. We hadn’t really talked about it and I didn’t know if we were going to.

We were watching TV after dinner when the phone rang.  It was Mary Sue’s Mom. Let’s call her Diane. My Dad answered.

I don’t know exactly what Diane said to my Dad. I guess she told him I should be punished. Maybe she told him we should pay for the shot. Maybe she just wanted to make sure he knew what I’d done and that I had been appropriately disciplined.

I sat and listened, a little fearful of what was going to happen when my Dad put down the phone. But then, I heard some of the most beautiful words I can remember out of my Dad’s mouth when I was a kid. He interrupted Diane and said,

“D*** it, Diane! Your kid is twice the size of my kid! If something like this happens again, I would tell her to do it again!”

I am pretty sure the conversation ended shortly after that.

That was the sweet and perfect voice of vindication and redemption. It meant the world to me that my Dad understood, and that he had my back. I was embarassed by what had happened. I was afraid he wouldn’t understand, and I was afraid I was going to be punished when I had only been trying to defend myself.  And I think something a lot of kids really long for, in a world where they are constantly told what to do, to think and to say, is some kind of justice — for things to be fair.

When I knew my Dad understood what had happened, and when I knew he was on my side, it was such a sweet feeling of vindication. I wasn’t afraid of going back to school the next day. I wasn’t going to be embarassed that I was ten years old and I bit someone. My Dad was in my corner, and in that moment, that was what I really needed to know.

Today I think I sometimes forget about the God who’s in my corner. He is the God who showed up on the playground of this earth, in the name of love, in the name of justice, and with the purpose of redemption. I am sometimes afraid that He is a God who cannot understand what I’m walking through, and is therefore disappointed and upset with me when things don’t happen the way they should. But God came near. He can identify with our struggles. He walked through thirty-some years in a world full of unkind and unfair. Even when we do make mistakes, He understands and He forgives.

And He is in your corner. He wants you to know that even if things don’t go the way they should, He still loves you. You’re still acceptable. You don’t have to be embarassed or ashamed of the things that have happened — by your own hand, your own decisions and actions, or by someone else’s. And even when you are completely in the wrong — utterly, and obviously way off base — He extends forgiveness, mercy, grace. And the pardon for those actions, the hall pass to escape the punishment — paid for in full by Jesus on the cross.

The dignity that there is in our free will — the dignity that we get to be on the playground of life and choose fairness, choose justice, choose love and choose the ways of God — in itself is such a beautiful redemption.

What I’ve learned since that day on the playground is that our real fight in this world is not against flesh and blood, or the other people on the playground. You have a very real enemy that does not want to see you walk in the plans and purposes God created you for. His voice will bring discouragement, doubt, and feelings of defeat your way. But God is in your corner. He understands the battles you’re facing. And He has strength for you, so that no matter what comes your way, you can keep fighting the good fight. You can keep moving forward.

Knowing that you are loveable, redeemable, understood and loved — knowing that God is for you and is not waiting in the wings eager to punish you — really knowing that will change the game for you. It’ll change the rules for you. It’ll rock the playground of your life.

“What shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us? He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things? For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come, nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us from the love of God which is in Christ Jesus our Lord.” Romans 8: 31 – 32, 38-39

We love this little boy so much. And we passionately long to see him walk in the plans he was created for. Do you know — really know — that no matter what you’ve done, the God of the universe feels that way about you?

xCC