Beauty

Pregnant women face it all the time -- the fat comments. "Yep, she's round like a pumpkin." "Wow. You're getting fat!" "You remind me of a pregnant cow." And the list could go on and on. Why do women feel that they have to defend themselves after comments like that?
I remember one time at a family gathering going to the buffet line for a second helping during the meal. My cousin cheered me on -- that I would eat even though I am a woman. What is it that makes women think they can't eat?
Some would claim that it's a health issue, but I disagree. As far as I can recall few, if any, have ever expressed any concern about my thin husband's choice of unhealthy snacks.
I think about the women I admire. I admire them for their forgiving spirit, their hope in the midst of trials, their humility and compassion for others, their devotion to prayer. I do not think I have ever said to myself, "I want to be just like that older woman because she is so good-looking." And yet I compare myself to an image of what I think physical beauty should be.
Who decides what is beautiful?
I do not think we can say that beauty is unimportant. I know God says that a woman is to adorn herself with a gentle and quiet spirit. In I Samuel, God tells us that man looks on the outward appearance, but He looks on the heart. That's why He choose David for King, but in the next few verses God tells us that David is good-looking. God made a beautiful world. Little girls seems to naturally like dresses and twirling and bows. It seems to be something God created them with. Maybe our view of beauty is just too limited. A man typically does not marry a woman that he does not find attractive, but his opinion could be different than the next man's opinion. Maybe a better view would be to think that we are all beautiful in our own way -- created beautiful, somehow to portray the beauty of the Creator. We are fearfully and wonderfully made.

God's Unconditional Love

Really there's nothing exceptional about my family. No one is particularly intelligent, or good-looking, or talented, well, maybe Eric is. I just love them because they are mine.
I am glad I belong to God and he loves me just because I am His.

A Willing Heart

Sometimes giving is easy and sometimes it's not. I am not saying that sometimes giving is sacrificial and sometimes we just give a budgeted amount. It's sacrificial almost every time for us. To the world we would be absolutely crazy. But sometimes it's easy to give. Sometimes it's easy to trust and know that God will provide what we need. Sometimes with a cheerful heart we easily give to support a cause we whole-heartedly believe in or to help a friend.
But then there are the times when giving is hard. When I cringe just a little as I decide how much to give to those that are hurting and desperately in need around me. Yes, it does sound selfish, but the Bible says that every man can proclaim his own goodness, but who can find a faithful man? I do not mean to proclaim my own goodness. Everyone proclaims their own goodness. I just want to be honest. (And pray that God would change me to be more like Him.) Didn't He give sacrificially? He gave everything. Someone might say that He knew He would gain it all back again. But don't we know the same thing? Don't we know that in Heaven we will never regret the treasure we have laid up there? And yet still I feel like I am holding tightly to earthly treasure.
This past week someone wrote us a generous check. I am grateful for it and I know it could be so helpful in so many ways, but now I am being asked to give most of it away. Wasn't it given to me freely? Shouldn't I freely give? The slight cringe begins. I don't want to. I have been reading through Exodus. The Israelites gave items to build the tabernacle -- so much and so willingly that eventually Moses told them to stop giving. I was convicted by my unwillingly heart.
On one hand the things I want seem so unimportant. God says that having food and clothing we should be content. Why do I have to want more? On the other hand I want to justify myself -- perhaps, it's more than food and clothing, but it's not more than anyone else would think is perfectly reasonable.
Then I wonder if I just don't trust God. Someone else needs the money now and what I would spend the money on isn't required for a few months. Can't I trust God to bring more money then?
Or maybe it's just that it seems like the money represents something bigger that God is asking. I think it would be better for our family to live somewhere else. It seems like God is asking if I would be content here, even if I knew it was forever. It reminds me of the movie Up. The wife, always seeking adventure, dreams of going to Paradise Falls, but something always comes up preventing them. In the end she dies without ever having visited Paradise Falls. I didn't see the end of the movie, so I just have what my husband told me, but he said eventually the lonely, old husband makes it to Paradise Falls and in the process befriends a small boy. He discovers his wife's adventure book where she placed pictures of Paradise Falls and finds that she had also put pictures of her life with him in the book and how that was an adventure. He learns that sometimes it's the people and the every day things around you that really matter.
My husband reminds me that if we see our brother in need we must not shut our heart up from him. It brings to mind It's a Wonderful Life. George dreams of traveling and seeing the world. But instead he gives of himself and his money to those around him and never leaves his small home town. He helps so many people even though he feels like he doesn't do anything. Can I do that? Can I sacrifice my dreams for my brother?
I really don't even know if I will have to sacrifice what I want completely. Some day God may lead us somewhere else. Just right now it seems that God is asking -- Would you sacrifice? Would you stay here forever? Would you be content if your life was always what it is right now?
I am not ready to answer.

God Gave Breath

I wonder how many near death experiences I can survive before my children leave home. It's no wonder grandparents are paranoid -- because they've raised children. Today Caden fell and we couldn't get him to start breathing again. It seemed like forever. The details are all muddled in my mind. I remember Zac crying and hiding behind the corner. I remember the desperation of believing that he was dying and only God could save him now. I called my sister, trying to explain through my cries and hysteria, that little Caden's life was hanging in the balance. I remember my husband leaning over him, the CPR, the call to 911. Then that one beautiful little grunt. He lay flat on his back with his arms stretched out to each side, his eyes closed, his face blue, but making raspy little breaths. Then he started to cry. I was so relieved.
This happened around lunch time. By dinner time I saw his first smile, after dinner he was talking again, and by bedtime he was throwing his diaper in the garbage. I am grateful for his life.