The Answer to Needs

The oldest turns fifteen this summer.  Time to teach him to drive.  The thought of watching him pull out of the driveway and head down the highway next to our house makes my heart feel the weight of the responsibility of making sure he's good at it. 

And then there's the one who will be fitted for contacts next week.  They're expensive, but will help him in his chosen sport.  The sport we encouraged him to get involved in because we believed it would help build self-confidence.  It's working, and it's worth the two hours a week and a hundred dollars a month.

And the one who just got glasses himself.  He's still getting used to putting them on in the morning and not leaving them laying around, so we've needed to give a lot of reminders and teach, and reteach, and reteach again.

And the girl whose first ballet recital is coming up.  She's nervous and excited and ready to shine, buoyed on by the smiles of her parents and the applause she receives when she practices in the living room.

And the one who needs a dentist appointment.

And all three that need a haircut.

And the relationship between two of them that is requiring extra nurturing.

And the son who has forgotten how to spend time with the Lord in the morning and could use time with a parent reading him the Word when he wakes up so he can remember how to go slowly and glean.

And the daughter who is memorizing a special verse at the moment because her mommy thinks it will help her dwell on the things that should be dwelled on.

And the four pairs of eyes that are being taught what's best to look at, and what should not be viewed.

And the four pairs of lips that are being trained how to build one another up and how to remain true and faithful to one another.

And one who needs to know she can hear God.  And the one who needs to know he is bigger than what he sees in the mirror.  And the one who needs to know he has powerful gifts, even if they don't look like the ones he admires in other people.  And the one who needs to know he's a son of the Most High God, not a slave.

And the table manners that have somehow slidden backwards and have sent a mom scrambling for a plan to make genteel eaters out of ruffians.

So many needs.  Some big.  Some small.  All important to me.

If I ever get overwhelmed as a mother, it's when I sit and ponder the needs, wondering how I can ever meet them all. 

And if I ever get delivered from fear that I'm not enough, it's when I remember I have a Father, too.

I have a Father who knows my needs.  My kids' needs.  Your needs.  My neighbor's needs.

How overwhelming that would be.  To know the needs of each of your children, all over the world.  The big ones.  The small ones.  The nation-sized ones.

Yet, He is never not enough.  He always knows.  He always has an answer, a plan.

And I offer him my precious treasures, the children He gave me.  And we talk about their needs together.  And He speaks.  And He gives me strategies for the ones I can help with.  And He tells me He'll work on the ones I can't. 

I leave that place lighter, the weight of the needs having shifted in the yoke to the One who can carry them better than me.

And I give thanks that even in the moment of recognizing the next need, I can crawl into His lap and whisper it in His ear.  "Come, Daddy, to this one.  We need You."

Seasonal Goal Posts

As the school year winds down, I can feel my thoughts moving towards the joys of summer.  I've always loved the season, but ever since my babies have all moved into their school years, I've felt even more fondly about it.  It's the only long stretch on the calendar when they're all mine.   

I listened to a wonderful speaker recenty who spoke of the importance of having shared goals in a marriage.  He explained that many couples flounder when the kids leave home because they haven't developed new goals that will take them beyond the child-raising years. 

As I've mulled that over, I've been impressed with the importance of also having shared goals with our children during the child-raising years.  What do we want to do together as a family this month...this season...this year...before the kids leave home?

And I've realized there won't be many more summer seasons for goal setting with the entire family. Our oldest turns fifteen this summer, which means we have four, maybe five summers left with all the baby birds in the nest.

Precious time to squeeze in so much joy.  Precious time for goals realized.  And I am determined not to let it slip by without savoring it.

This summer, we will:

• eat homemade breakfasts in our jammies several times a week, all together
• let the kids camp out in the tree house (often talked about, but not yet experienced)
• take overnight trips in an ancient travel trailer
• take a two week vacation in the same ancient travel trailer to as many state parks as we can handle
• learn to can salsa with my mother
• swim, in pools, lakes, and rivers
• let each child take a turn teaching family devotions
• watch all the kids go to church camp and come back filled with God
• grill out in our swimsuits with the sprinkler on full blast
• harvest our garden
• paint the fence
• eat a lot of watermelon in the backyard
• teach a teenage boy to drive a car
• teach a little girl how to ride her bike
• go to some dollar theater matinees
• host some BBQs
• learn to identify some constellations
• have a family worship night, complete with painting
• visit all the great-grandmothers
• celebrate three birthdays
• work on table manners
• create some photo albums
• dream new dreams together about a huge vacation up the East coast and pray it can happen next summer
• laugh more than we ever have

Taking His Name

Our sixteenth wedding anniversary was last week.  My husband surprised me with a one-night trip to a bed and breakfast in the Texas Hill Country.  The Haven River Inn is run by a Christian couple who minister to ministers by providing a place of retreat, and we were refreshed just being there together, rocking on the big wrap-around porch.

He had one other surprise up his sleeve, as well.  He had made a donation to the ministry there in my honor, and in return, they placed a lovely brick on the walkway to the river.

Due to to the fact that he married a woman who is not always watching where she's going, my beloved had to stand over said brick and cough loudly several times before I finally saw it.  But, when I did, I was astounded. 

Our name.  For all to see. 

Only, it wasn't always my name.  My maiden name was Davis.  Quite simple and easy to spell.  Now, it's von Atzigen.  Quite difficult all around.

Seeing it there in print reminded me of a sermon my husband preached a couple of years ago about the joys of changing your name to "Christian" when you become a follower of Jesus.  I think I can relate to the fact that it can be difficult to change your identity, to take on a new name.  But, I will also shout it from the mountains that it's worth it. 

Being known as HIS is worth it.

It's worth every little piece of sacrifice.  Because HE is worth it.



From the author:  If you have a few minutes, I invite you to listen to this humorous excerpt of that message as my husband invites me to explain just why it's worth it....

Click here to listen.  (recording is about 6 minutes long)  You may wish to scroll to the bottom of this page and pause the music before you link to the message.

True Maturity

It was a small thing.  Probably only something a mother would care about.  But, I am his mother.  And I do care.  So I waited until the time was right.  And then I spoke.

I was careful to make sure there was only love in my voice.  Only the sounds of caring that runs deep.  No judgement.  No rebuke.  Just a gentle pointing out of the need for change.

The iron that sharpens iron.  Spoken through tender affection.

And I knew it wasn't easy for him to hear.  Receiving correction is never easy, but it may be the most difficult in the teen years.  And I saw the struggle in his face, his eyes reflecting the processing my words were requiring of him.

I prayed as I spoke.  "Lord, please let there be no twisting of the sounds from my mouth to his ears, no chance for him to misunderstand my heart."

He was silent for a moment.  And then he did it.

He reached for me, pulling me into a hug, letting his cheek rest against mine.  And he said the words I hadn't expected, "Thank you, Mom."

I was humbled by his grace, his ability to push past ego and receive the temporary wound to his pride in order to gain the long-term growth in his character.  I hugged him back and whispered, "You're welcome.  I'm proud of who you are."

And then I retreated to my own quiet place to think that over. 

My son had surprised me with his maturity.  Was I capable of the same?  When God comes to me to correct me, do I respond with "thank you," or do I attempt to justify myself, finding someone else to blame?  Am I able to look past the smarting of my pride to see the love in His eyes when He needs to point out the need for change in me?  After His discipline, am I confident that I'm still his kid and He's still proud of me, or do I hunt around anxiously for something else to make Him like me more?

"My son, do not despise the Lord's discipline and do not resent his rebuke, because the Lord disciplines those he loves, as a father the son he delights in."  (Prov 3:11-12)

And I pray that the truth of this verse, illustrated to me by my own son, finds its way to the deep places of my heart the next time God needs to point something out to me. 

In that moment, may I reach for Him, lay my cheek against His, and whisper, "Thank you."