Pardon me, but your god is broken

Just a note to those who found the entire premise behind the Hadron Collider a little dubious: apparently, the machine that was to prove once and for all that there is no room for God in science is undergoing repairs just weeks after it made its debut. So much for engineering omnipotence, eh?

Fear

I have spent the last few days grappling with anxiety. This is not a feeling that I know very well, as I am not by nature a person who dwells on the what if's. The truth is, I am one of those people for whom the many issues of life often loom just large enough so as to be out of my grasp. Surrendering the things that I could not hold onto even if I wanted to usually isn't a leap for me; instead, I am someone whose faith is stretched by the lack of change and forward motion. Many people I know have the opposite problem--they abhor the disturbance of the status quo.

At any rate, I know that the whole issue of anxiety has been heightened by the fact that I've been (unsuccessfully) fighting an infection that finally decided to take up residence and begin making home in my kidneys. I gave in and went to the doctor on Saturday. While I'm not pleased to be on two separate antibiotics, I'm more than happy with the fact that I can now stand up without a wave of nausea. See? Forward motion!

But back to the anxiety. I will be completely transparent and admit that I am finding myself dwelling. Yes, dwelling. Dwelling on what, you ask? Well, for starters, the fact that my grandparents are in need of assistance, and I am 2,500 miles away. The fact that my mother has managed to dig a new hole under the one labelled ROCK BOTTOM and is intent on snuggling in. The fact that my husband's job is linked to the fiscal fortunes of our great nation. The fact that until Oliver's adoption is finalized, we will have to fight tooth and toenail to maintain things exactly as they are, no matter what befalls us. And, oh yes, did I mention that I may just have kidney stones?!?

When you take all of that and factor in the onslaught of bad news that our nation has been subjected to as of late, it's just a recipe for depression, isn't it?

Last night, as I prayed for a restful night that gave me respite from my worries, I struggled to recall my usual favorite verse for dealing with the hard times. Instead, God supplied this one.

Isaiah 41:9-10

I took you from the ends of the earth,
from its farthest corners I called you.
I said, 'You are my servant';
I have chosen you and have not rejected you.

So do not fear, for I am with you;
do not be dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you and help you;
I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

I thought I'd share it, just in case anyone else is feeling the same encroaching darkness in their hearts. God has called us. He carries us. And it's under His wing that we rest.

Debatable

Jo's thoughts on the debate:

"Obama sounds ... I don't know ... like he is pretty sure he's going to be president. It's as if maybe he's never considered that he might not win? Is that possible? He knows that votes still have to be cast, right? He knows about the electoral college surely?"

Until the debate last night, Jo was a staunch Obama supporter. (Yes, we allow and even encourage political dissent and free thought in our home.) Now she's not so sure. Interesting development.

Shine

A couple of years back, Jo discovered this song:



"Shine" was the very first song that she squealed over when she heard the opening notes on the radio. It was the first non-Disney, non-Sunday School song I heard her singing when she thought no one was looking. And it was the first song that she played, ad nauseum, for days on end.

The song is, I believe, older than the girl herself. It's catchy. It's poppy. It's unavoidable. It's ... nothing I would listen to if given my druthers.

But as my daughter has grown I have discovered exactly what it is about this song that she is so attracted to. You see, Jo shines.

dull as dirt
you can´t assert the kind of light
that might persuade
a strict dictator to retire
fire the army
teach the poor origami
the truth is in
the proof is when
you hear your heart start asking,
"What´s my motivation?"

Jo is anything but dull as dirt. Her affection for Converse All-Stars is widely known; her preference for wearing mismatched Converse All-Stars is probably even more widely known. Her fashion sense is one part tweener, one part pretty and a huge (inherited) helping of punk rock. Need someone to star in your play? Jo's on the job. Hear a voice chattering above all the others? Probably Jo. She gives unabashedly real hugs to those that she loves--and frankly, she loves just about everyone she meets. She carts around toddlers and dances with preschoolers, no matter who's looking. And why does she do all of these things? To draw attention to herself? No. Jo is just one of those people whose personality bubbles to the top and froths over. Her motivation is joy, nothing more.

when you let it shine
you will inspire
the kind of entire turnaround
that would make a bouncer take ballet
(even bouncers who aren't happy)
but out of the glare
with nowhere to turn
you ain´t gonna learn it on "What´s My Line?"

Jo's joy and enthusiasm for life does inspire people to take note. She has the kind of magnetism that draws crowds in her direction. She is a born leader, not just because of her birth order habits, but because people genuinely like her. They want her to like them. They want to bask in her glow.

shine
make ´em wonder what you´ve got
make ´em wish that they were not
on the outside looking bored
shine
let it shine before all men
let´em see good works, and then
let ´em glorify the Lord

My baby girl makes following Christ look good. She is honest. She is trustworthy. She loves God. She serves others. Her willingness to share His blessings in her life leaves those who don't know her well wondering how in the world dh and I got so lucky as to have such a great daughter. Of course, the answer is that dh and I have had very little to do with it.

Jo just shines.

Happy 11 years of glorifying the Lord, Jo.

And then there was Jo

Jo, 9-08

Jo's birthday is tomorrow. Every year, facing her birthday unleashes in me a torrent of emotions that catches me off guard. I admit, it's largely a self-centered thing: Jo's beginning marks the end of one era in my life and the genesis of a new one. I can't seem to throw myself into the joy that is my daughter's birthday without first taking a long look at how far I've come, how much I've learned, how changed my own heart is.

Life before Jo was really all I had imagined it would be. I barreled through my college career with a handful of goals in mind, and met them all in June of 1996. In four weeks' time, I graduated, got married, and landed my dream job with a publication spearheaded by a politician whose career seemed to be rooted in the stuff that makes for staying power.

My new husband and I rented one of those resort-style apartments, bought a new car and settled into a life that seemed destined for travel, entertainment, a new home ... you know, the things everyone says you do before you have kids. "We want to live a little before we get tied down." That was our mantra.

God's plan for us was entirely different. In the blink of an eye, June of 1996 was September of 1997.

Jo and I, 9-97

The job had disappeared in a spectacular twist of political disfavor. The apartment had given way to a tiny 2-bedroom house built in the 40s. The impracticality of driving a stick shift had gotten old. And me? I was a mother.

I had always wanted to be a mother. I knew that some day, I'd cradle a child in my arms and feel that love that everyone told me was so intoxicating. Life-changing love, that's what everyone called it. And that was precisely why I wanted to wait a few years before I experienced it for myself. But it wasn't to be.

God's plan called for me to leave behind the pit-of-your-stomach adrenaline rush of campaigns and posturing for the seat-of-your pants judgement calls of parenting. There are days when I truly wish I could go back and be a fly on the wall during my early days of motherhood. Would you believe that someone who knew exactly who to call in to provide background in support of any given House bill usually called her cousin to see if she thought any particular concern was worth bothering the pediatrician over? Wouldn't you like to see that in action? I know I would.

Through God's grace, I learned a few things about parenting. My heart would now walk around outside of my body, and I came to understand that as both a liability and a privilege. I put my feet firmly to the path of parenting and rarely look back.

I say rarely because each year, around Jo's birthday, I muse over the would have/could have. There is never a hint of should have. I relish my role of full-time mother and know that ultimately, this was the job God was preparing me for all along. I have been blessed to be softened and sculpted by the ongoing process of nurturing my little brood; I wouldn't have missed it for the world. I think about the life I wanted and compare it to the life I have knowing that the things I felt would satisfy were fleeting confections that would have left me hungry again as soon as the thrill had faded. What I have is real and lasting. I wanted the dessert, but I got the entree.

Today, it is the thrill of watching my girl take steps into the world and come back, glowing, to tell me each detail that makes me smile. It is the pain of knowing that the days of physical need are gone, but that the years of emotional need are truly just beginning that set my days spinning.

It is life. Motherhood is all this ... and more.

The moment a child is born, the mother is also born. She never existed before. The woman existed, but the mother, never. A mother is something absolutely new. ~Rajneesh

You know you've lost newbie status when

there's a social worker due on your doorstep in 30 minutes and you're reading blogs instead of folding the load of towels on your couch.

So, honey, what did you do today?

1 load of towels

1 load of darks

1 load of diapers

taught three children the basics, nothing more

talked to benny on the phone

took temperatures 4 times

directed children through their chores

dispensed two rounds of tylenol

called to confirm social worker visit tomorrow

pulled together a grocery list for dh

vacuumed

wiped down two bathrooms

made an elaborate snack

served three (semi)nutritious meals

pulled three Lincoln Logs from the toilet

plunged said toilet

answered these random questions with the help of the internet:
"What's inside an Etch-A-Sketch?"
"When did the Wiggles start making videos?"
"Can you still take a ship around Cape Horn?"
"How long is a bushbaby pregnant?"

And now ... I will sleep.