Category Archives: Motherhood

September 24, 2009 · 6:00 am

What Does He See?

Every once and awhile, he commandeers my camera.  When I upload my pics, I’m sure to find one like this:

JH - 7yo blog

And this:

JH 7yo blog 2

I don’t dare delete them.  Not even the random pictures of a plant on my end table.  It gives me a peek into what captures his attention.  I’m sure he goes back and observes his photography on my digital camera.  And, I’m sure he sees his self-portraits. 

I wonder what he sees when he sees himself.

Does he notice how beautiful his eyes are?

How his gentle spirit emanates from him every time he smiles?

Does he see God’s grace in his reflection even though he doesn’t know what to call it?

Does he see how he was perfectly and wonderfully made?

Because, that’s what I sure see every time I look at him. 

That’s what I saw seven years ago today when I held him in my arms for the very first time.  He is my sweet reminder of God’s incredible presence in my life in the midst of joy and suffering.  He is my sweet reminder that no matter what season I am forced to endure, God’s grace is always sufficient.

Happy Birthday, John Henry. 

Love, love, love you.

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September 21, 2009 · 6:00 am

Time To Lock Up The Scissors Again.

Wow.  God is really birthing more in me than just a baby right now.  Just as this tot is growing by the day, I really feel that God is working some really cool things inside me.  Oh how I wish I could disclose all that incredible stuff right now, but, quite frankly, I haven’t the energy.  Not today.  Yes, it takes more energy to share from the deepest parts of me than it does to show you pictures like this.

Barbie horse

Anna loves to role play with her Barbies and their horses.  Of course, it IS her game, and she tells me exactly what my Barbie character should say when I play with her.  Her storyline began to concern me when she suggested that the Barbies pretend their parents were dead.

“Uh, Anna, I don’t like that story.  We’re not playing that,” I told her.

“Well, then.  Their parents are invisible,” she compromised.

I wasn’t certain where this thought pattern was coming from, but I ceded and let her live in Annaville.

We continued to play when I noticed she had gotten creative with the scissors again.  Notice the horse’s mane.  Or lack of mane.

Then, I saw noticed where she had cut one of the Barbie’s bangs.  This just settled the age old question within me of “should I cut bangs or not?” 

Um, not.

To be honest, I don’t LOVE playing Barbies.  Especially, when my Barbie never says the “right things.”  My four year old reminds me it is her game, and subsequently tells me everysingleword to say. 

But, I play anyway. 

I’m hoping that if I play with her now, she’ll come to me later. 

I have to deposit, deposit, deposit into my children.  I’m sure to make a withdrawal down the road and have to say “I was wrong.”  So, I need to invest as much as I can.

So, I become a safe place for her.

To come to me for anything.

And, with anything.

Know what I mean?

Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go talk to my invisible parents.

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September 16, 2009 · 6:00 am

I Was Wrong.

There are times I have to ask one of my children to forgive me.  It’s one of the most important things I can do as their mother.  Like the other day when Anna cut open a bag of dish candy.  In the middle of the bag.  Where there is no hope for closing it without candy spilling out everywhere.  I was upset.  My response was unnecessarily harsh.  And, my usually tough little girl ran to her room in tears.

I was wrong.

I entered her bedroom and held her.  I asked her to forgive me and told her she was the best daughter in the whole wide world.

Then, I told her I was wrong to respond the way I did.

She needed to hear me acknowledge my behavior was wrong as much as she needed to hear me say I’m sorry.

Honestly, I don’t find it difficult admitting my weakness to my children.  I don’t want them to struggle doing the same.   I want them to find it easy to go their heavenly Father and lay down their weaknesses at His feet, so He can show Himself strong in their lives.

Motherhood is not foolproof.  Neither is life.  When we mess up, it’s essential to acknowledge it and make a mends with the person we hurt.  Even if it is your four year old little girl.

It’s not the first time I’ve had to say I was wrong.  And, it’s certain it won’t be my last. 

I’m a believer in telling our children we are wrong when we are, indeed, wrong.  As a matter of fact, I think it’s essential in raising children with a healthy understanding of humility and forgiveness.

Do you struggle saying “I was wrong” to your children?

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September 15, 2009 · 6:00 am

Hormones. For A Season.

Hormones are a funny, unpredictable thing.  Especially, those pregnancy ones. 

You know the ones where you find yourself crying over the most random of things. 

Like misplacing your favorite comfy shorts.  The only ones that fit.

Or, putting your four year old to bed then turning to your husband and saying, “You do know she won’t always be sleeping down the hall from us.  One day, she’ll be all grown up and out on her own.” 

Then, you just start sobbing.

Yeah.  Those hormones.

But, my thoughts and tears of my children growing up are very real.  Truth is, I am loving this season in my life.  I love it so much that if I could pause time, I think I would.  When I first found out I was pregnant, my initial response was “Wow.  I’m starting over with the baby stuff all over again.”  Then, it hit me.  I will blink, and this little one (making me so weepy right now) will be in Kindergarten.

Time doesn’t slow for anyone.  And, I can’t press pause.  There are different seasons in life.  This is mine.  One day my season will look much different.  I won’t be picking up light sabers and Webkins every day and putting them back in their respective places.  Pop Tarts will be a thing of the past.  A little girl won’t make up her own song at bed time and sing it to me.  A little boy won’t wrap his arms around my neck and pull me closer to him. 

My house will be quiet.

But, that little boy and little girl will be fulfilling the call of God in their lives. 

One day that little boy will read the scriptures and become overwhelmed by how great God is like I do.

One day, that little girl will hold her own child in her arms and know exactly what I feel when I kiss her sweet face goodnight. 

They will experience a new season.

I will experience a new season.

And, God will still be at the center of it all.

To everything – turn, turn, turn
There is a season – turn, turn, turn
And a time for every purpose under heaven
– The Byrds

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September 11, 2009 · 6:00 am

Somebody, Please Pass The Geritol.

Earrrrlllly yesterday morning, we had an ultrasound of baby numba three.  I have somehow been labeled a geriatric pregnancy patient, thankyousokindly, so ultrasounds abound galore.  The littlest Takle thought it fun to kick off of my uterus over and over again.  He or she is an energetic one.  I don’t think we make them any other way. 

Which leads me to the 4 year old Takle.  Big brother, self-appointed sheriff of the family, alerted me yesterday that Anna is hitting his first grade friends in carpool.  I called the school to speak with Anna’s teacher who told me she is perfectly fine in her class (sans the panty-less day, of course.)  She did, however, tell me that Anna likes to tell her friends, “My name is _____________” and then fabricate a new name.  Her friends just cackle and call her by her new name.  Anna’s teacher requested she simply go by Anna. 

We instructed Anna on such, and to please, for all that is holy, stop hitting John Henry’s friends.  Or else.  She complied although she was highly disappointed that she could no longer be called “Miley” or “Melly.”

On a sweeter note, Anna completed an “All About Me” poster.  One item read “I am special because ____________________,” and she had to fill in the blank.  I expected a “because God made me” response.  Instead, she finished the sentenced:

“I’m special because my brother protects me.”

He’ll certainly sell her out on hitting his friends.  Because, what’s right is right and what’s wrong is wrong.  But he stands with a ready sword to keep her safe.  Well, with a blue light saber for sure. 

Man, I love those kids.  All three of ‘em.

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September 3, 2009 · 6:00 am

Phone Calls You’re Never Quite Prepared For.

Our lives are already so full, I can hardly imagine what life will look like when our third makes his or her debut.  The school year has started off well.  I mean, reasonably well.  John Henry’s teacher let me know that he is doing well, staying on task, and working hard.  Anna has been quick to tell me she is being a princess and “didn’t spit at any of my friends.”  Um, that’s good.

I did receive a phone call, however, from her teacher yesterday informing me that she arrived at school wearing no underwear under.her.dress.  Zilch.  Nada.  At first, I blamed her father, and I assured her it wouldn’t happen again.  It was fortunate (and a relief) to hear a laugh or three out of her teacher.  So, now our morning routines will look something like this:

Lunches – check.

Backpacks – check.

Teeth brushed – check.

Vitamins – check.

Underwear – check.

I can’t tell you how many times in my life I have dreamed of showing up at school without wearing underwear.  Mortified.  Not “unbothered” by it (to quote Anna’s teacher) like my four year old.  Of course, this dream was hardly as nightmarish as the time I dreamed the Incredible Hulk was chasing me in the church parking lot. 

For real.

Sometimes, I sit back and wonder how my mother felt at times raising a daughter.  Was she horrified when I used the display toilet at Cook’s department store in my hometown?  Was she embarrassed when she carried me out of church to spank me while I yelled to the congregation “PRAY!” and held onto the sanctuary doors for dear life?

I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say yes. 

Oh, the laws of reaping and sowing. 

“When you have children yourself, you begin to understand what you owe your parents.”  — Japanese Proverb

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September 2, 2009 · 6:00 am

How Does Your Heart Beat?

The nurse listened for the heartbeat.  There was nothing.  She was certain the doctor, skilled and experienced in finding those little heartbeats, would capture it.

There was nothing. 

While we knew this was not unusual, our doctor still expressed concern and ordered an immediate ultrasound. 

Kris and I waited a grueling forty-five minutes for peace of mind.  We sat quietly, but our minds could not have been louder.  What if?  What happens if we lose this baby?  Do we try again?  What’s the follow-up procedure? 

What if?

I had just written the post on Fear.  And, I was feeling it.  Those scriptures came swirling through my mind.  “When you walk through the fire, I will be there…”   

I felt a calmness in the midst of my sudden upheaval.  No matter what happened that day, His presence would never leave me.  No matter what happened, I would not stop running after my Father. 

You see, I decided a long time ago that there were no deal breakers for me following Christ. 

None.

My heart beats for Him.  For HIS glory.  Not mine.  And, every single thing and every single person in my life are added blessings.  Because, if He never did anything else for me but give me eternity, that would be enough.

But He does more.

Because, He is so good.

Forty-five minutes passed, and we entered the room.  The technician placed the instrument on my bare belly, and we looked on a monitor and saw a vibrant, little life.

And heard the sweetest, little heartbeat.

A heart that beats for Him.

So many of you prayed.

Thank you.

We love you all,
Dusty and Kris

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August 25, 2009 · 6:00 am

Lead Me To The Rock.

I don’t often stare at a blank, white screen as long as I stared at one for this post.  It was an emotional evening with my son yesterday.  This pregnancy seems to be drawing from John Henry some emotions and questions about his Daddy Bryan and me.  And, one particular issue I wasn’t prepared for.  It’s not something I feel at liberty to share just yet, but I will when the time is right.  For now, my heart is heavy, and I’m seeking God in how I respond to my sweet, tender son. 

You see, this is the beautiful part about following Christ.  Because, whenever I feel….

Helpless.

Confused.

Stranded.

In desperate need of wisdom and guidance.

I go to my Shepherd.

The Lord says, “I will guide you along the best pathway for your life.  I will advise you and watch over you.  Psalm 32:8

I go to my Counselor.

And I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Counselor to be with you forever.  John 14:16

I go to my Rock.

….when my heart is overwhelmed.  Lead me to the towering rock of safety….  Psalm 61:2

Can you imagine doing life without Him?

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August 20, 2009 · 6:00 am

What I’m Praying This School Year.

JH - 2004

Dear John Henry,

You begin first grade today.  I can hardly believe it.  Really, I can’t.  If it weren’t for the fact you’ve lost four teeth, grown another inch, and expanded your vocabulary, I’d swear you are still the little boy in this picture mesmerized by airplanes. 

Airplanes don’t capture your attention the way they used to.  I’m sure it’s due to the constant exposure and your Daddy Kris being a pilot.  Although, I know you still think that being a pilot is cool.  You do, right?

It’s okay if airplanes and other things begin to fade from your interest list.  What’s important is that your pursuit of Christ doesn’t fade.  That being in relationship with your Creator never grows stale.  Never gets old.

That He always captures your attention.

I prayed the usual prayer I always pray over you last night.  But, just before I said, “Amen,” I prayed something new for you.

I prayed you would begin to hear God’s voice. 

You know that feeling you sometimes get to make a good choice instead of a bad choice?  Or that feeling you sometimes get to give one of your toys to a friend?  Or that feeling you sometimes get to pray for someone?  That’s kind of what God’s voice sounds like at times.

I’m praying that His voice becomes clearer and clearer to you. 

Familiar.

Comfortable.

Natural.

That’s what I’m praying for you this school year. 

I can’t wait to hear what God tells you.  I know He will tell you what I tell you so often:

I love you, son.

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August 18, 2009 · 8:14 am

Life After The Great Wolf.

You may or may not have noticed that I took the day off yesterday from the blogging world to recover from an exhausting, yet fun packed weekend.  On Thursday, we took the kids to the Great Wolf Lodge in Texas.  This hotel does not cater to rest and relaxation for adults.  Oh no.  Between the indoor and outdoor water park, arcade, and MagiQuest where kids take magic wands and complete quests all over the hotel, I was pretty much in a Great Wolf coma yesterday morning.  The ice cream cone I indulged in on Sunday night contributed to this coma, I am sure. 

I failed to take as many pictures as my mom, Nan, would like.  I attempted to explain to her that a water park does not compliment a non water-proof camera.  My kids did insist I take their picture with this guy.

Great Wolf 1

Anna evaluated the picture and was unimpressed with her pose.  So, she was adamant for a re-take.

Great Wolf 2

“Oh, yes.  That is definitely much better,” she said. 

And, when did she become such the diva?

We made it home yesterday afternoon, and I was beyond tired and irritated.  I could barely tolerate the sound of my little people’s voices.  Oh, how I love them.  But, oh, how I dreaded to hear “Mom” even one.more.time.  When I later saw John Henry laughing out loud at the entertainment his sister was providing for him, I couldn’t help but laugh a little myself.  It brought some relief to my annoyed, please don’t talk to me attitude. 

And, I remembered why I love being their Mom so much.

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