Category: Family

Gratitude and Grief, Uncertainty and Certainty

Posted on by Chel

It still feels surreal, 15 days into our state’s Shelter-in-Place order, to say that we are living in a pandemic. To be honest, I often find myself feeling overwhelmed by both gratitude and grief in this time of painfully great uncertainty.

I am overwhelmed with gratitude and love for my dear husband and precious little boys, for my extended family, for my friends. I am deeply grateful for the true and certain hope we have in Jesus no matter our earthly circumstance. I am thankful for our church and the fact that we are still able to meet virtually. I am grateful we still have a home and food on the table. I’m thankful we have technology to still connect with loved ones even from afar. I’m grateful that God’s mercies are new each morning. I’m thankful for the courageous men and women who are risking their lives during this time to help others, ranging from medical professionals, to grocery store workers, to people who deliver food and supplies and mail, to people who clean, to emergency responders, to every other person whose job means they are currently unable to stay home. My list of things to be grateful for is long, and I have been trying to note big and little things I am thankful for each day (and have been finding the gratitude app Presently helpful towards this end).

But I also feel overwhelmed with grief and fear. I of course most fear the loss of those I love. And I am deeply saddened by loss of life and livelihood that are already occurring in the lives of people I know as well as on a global scale. I mourn for the heartache our world is experiencing, and for the emotional and relational and spiritual and physical strain of this experience that impacts and will continue to impact each of us in different ways. And I am grieving the smaller losses of everyday life as we know it even as we are only just beginning lockdown and physical distancing—even little things like not being able to visit family and friends, or not being able to take the boys to the park or go on a family outing, or not being able to go to church in person.  I feel dizzy even trying to categorize these countless layers of loss and uncertainty. I know that this earthly future has always been uncertain, but suddenly the fragile and fleeting beauty of everyday life seems glaringly evident.

What will this earthly future hold? I truly don’t know. And that is scary to say, especially as a momma to such young children. I’ve been finding it hard to focus on in-depth study of the Bible or on lengthy prayers, as my fear and shock often leave me feeling scattered and somewhat disoriented. But I have been trying to pray even small prayers throughout the day, to read even a few verses, to talk and pray with my husband, to listen to the daily messages our pastor has been putting out, to listen to and sing worship songs, and to trust the Holy Spirit to intercede when I feel so weak. I’ve been thankful that as believers—my husband and I, our church community, our friends and family—we have had the opportunity to continue to preach the gospel to one another and to ourselves throughout these days, even if we do so imperfectly. And I know we will continue to need to do so through calls and video meetings and emails and texts through the many uncertain days ahead.

Amidst all this uncertainty I have been trying to hold fast to two certain verses that provide hope for both the present and the future:

“When I am afraid, I put my trust in you.” – Psalm 56:3

“So that by two unchangeable things, in which it is impossible for God to lie, we who have fled for refuge might have strong encouragement to hold fast to the hope set before us. We have this as a sure and steadfast anchor of the soul, a hope that enters into the inner place behind the curtain, where Jesus has gone as a forerunner on our behalf, having become a high priest forever after the order of Melchizedek.” – Hebrews 6:18-20

May we gratefully trust in and hold fast to Jesus, our only certain anchor during the deep sadness and uncertainty of this new age of the COVID19 pandemic.

A Question of Identity

Posted on by Chel

I am now a stay-at-home mom.  After much deliberation, my husband and I decided to have me resign from my work as a marriage and family therapist to stay home full-time with my own family. This is a bittersweet step for me. I feel so joyful thinking of what I am moving toward: getting to devote myself fully to being home as a wife and a momma for this season. But I feel genuine loss and sadness over giving up—at least for the time being—work that I find to be deeply meaningful at a practice I genuinely like.

Now I find myself wrestling with the question “Who am I?” in a way that I didn’t when I first became a mom—and I’m rather jarred by the many identity-related questions that I have been feeling seemingly suddenly and simultaneously:

What if I lose sight of who I am, and who others are?

What if I become boring to my husband and don’t have anything to talk to him about apart from our kids?

What if I make my kids into my whole life?

What if I lose my spark and passion now that I am staying at home, and simply become tired?

What if my world becomes small and I lose sight of all perspective?

What if I become lonely?

What if I become consumed by worry?

What if I never even get to talk to any other adults without being interrupted by little ones?

What if I don’t have any complex or intelligent or even coherent thoughts anymore?

What if I rarely have car-rides by myself to listen to podcasts, or consume any noteworthy news, or learn any new skills, or even just to do anything interesting or thought-provoking?

What I begin to measure my worth by how “successful” I am in accomplishing tasks at home and in caring for my boys, and become even more task-oriented, controlling, and perfectionist than ever?

My list of questions big and small could go on and on.

Yet I suppose as I reflect upon these and other questions of identity I realize there is danger in defining my entire being as any one particular part of myself or actions. I have always been prone to pursuing meaning through fulfilling my roles, keeping busy, and striving after accomplishment. Even my career had the danger of being an idol and wasn’t truly a solid way for me to define myself, although I did find it deeply honoring and meaningful to get to walk with others on their respective journeys as part of my work as a therapist. But then again, I also find it deeply honoring and meaningful to be a wife, and a mother, and a daughter, and a sister, and a friend.

These roles—along with many other roles, characteristics, and passions—are a part of who I am, but none should ultimately define me. If my primary identity was in being a therapist—rather than having this be just a part, albeit significant, of who I am—then I have a problem, just like I have a problem if I hinge my whole sense of self and meaning on being a mom, or being a wife, or being orderly or “right”, and so on. Ultimately, I need to find my identity most deeply in Jesus and my relationship with him. These other facets of who I am and what I do and what I care about are significant, but while they make beautiful outgrowths they are a poor foundation upon which to build my life.

Ultimately, only Jesus is a truly sure foundation.

I believe this to be true. Yet I also know that I need time to process my many questions and feelings, and to both grieve and celebrate this transition. So I will choose to trust in Jesus while leaning into the vulnerability and messiness of opening my heart to having so many feelings and questions about this change. I will try to cry when I am sad over my loss while also noticing and rejoicing in the sweet moments I am gaining with those I love. I will be thankful for the time I got to work as a therapist, and I will also be thankful for the time I now have to be with my family. I will try to take time to talk about and reflect upon and feel my experiences.

I hope I can slowly learn anew who I am in Jesus and what it looks like in this new season of my life to have him truly be the foundation upon which I build my identity and from which I draw strength to love and live faithfully—including in, but not limited to, my role as a momma to my precious little boys.  

So Long, Speedy: How Our Snail Reminded Us of Our Need for the Gospel

Posted on by Chel

Our toddler recently got a pet water snail that he named “Speedy”. He loved to peek at Speedy and say hello as we walked by his tank, and would bring him up in conversations randomly throughout the day. And then last week we noticed Speedy had fallen and was upside down on the floor of his tank. We used a straw to conduct a rescue mission in which we flipped Speedy back to his rightful shell-up position, and to our delight and relief Speedy quickly – for a snail! – resumed his adventures around his tank. But then just a couple of days later, our toddler exclaimed “Oh no! Speedy needs help!” – once again, Speedy was lying upside down on the bottom of his tank. We again undertook a rescue mission, turning Speedy right-side up, and assumed all would be well. However, as we continued to check in on Speedy, he remained stationary, and it became increasingly clear that Speedy was not going to move from that place again.

My toddler kept asking about Speedy, and eventually I sadly told him that in spite of our best efforts to take care of our little pet, Speedy had died. My toddler quickly said we could help him, or give him medicine, or take him to the vet, or pray for him, and suggested various people we could consult for help. He was so earnest and sincere in both his desire to help Speedy and his belief that we could make everything right again – just like how Doc, in his favorite show “Doc McStuffins”, is always able to save every toy that comes to her in need of help.

How I wished in that moment that I had it in my power to make Speedy well again, to give our little story a happy ending for my toddler. How I wished we lived in a world where every sickness and injury could be cured, where death does not exist, where we could always save and protect those we love. How I wished I could shelter my toddler from the heartbreaking reality of the fallen world in which we live. And yet I tried to trust that even these hard moments of loss can point to our need for Jesus and the hope we have in the gospel.

So instead of saying that Speedy would feel better soon, I explained to my dear little toddler that Speedy had died, and that sadly we all face death someday because we live in a fallen world. I reminded him we could be so thankful for the time we had with Speedy, and that he was a great little pet snail, but that we needed to say goodbye. I told him that having to say goodbye to Speedy could remind us of how much we need Jesus. I reminded him Christmas is a wonderful time in which we celebrate the birth of Jesus, who came to rescue us from our sin and sadness and to show us how much God loves us – just like we have been talking about all throughout this Advent season. I told him that Jesus already saved us from our sins when he came to earth that first Christmas, if we choose to trust in him and his work on the cross. And I told him that we continue to wait for the even better day when Jesus will return again and make all things right – a wonderful day when there will be no more sadness or death, even for tiny pet snails.

“Then, one day, God’s Son came to live in this world as a person. He was called Jesus.

Jesus always did what God said.

Jesus never sinned.
….
Jesus knew that things were sometimes bad and sometimes sad.

Jesus said that God had sent him to open the way back to God’s wonderful place, where there would be nothing bad and no one sad!
….
[Jesus] tells us, God says it is wonderful to live with him. Because of your sin, you can’t come in. BUT I died on the cross to take your sin…So all my friends CAN now come in!

We can live with God forever! There will be nothing bad, and no one sad.

We will see God and speak to God and just enjoy being with God – just as he planned.

It will be wonderful to live with him. And it’s all because of JESUS.”

-Excerpts from “The Garden, the Curtain, and the Cross: The True Story of Why Jesus Died and Rose Again“, by Carl Laferton

Help From Our Faithful Father

Posted on by Chel

My days at home are filled with requests for me to meet the near-constant needs of my little ones—physical needs, emotional needs, relational needs: “Mommy, I hungry!”; “Mama, I pooped!”; “I need help, Mommy!”; “I want (fill in the blank)!”; “Mama, I sad! I cwying!”; “Wook at dis!”; “Mommy, pway with me!”; “(Crying)”. My children so naturally turn to me whenever they feel a need, and look to me to be able to help them. Because I love them, I try my best to meet their needs when they call, and respond to them again and again: wiping tearful cheeks as well as poopy bottoms, feeding and nursing, playing and reading, teaching and talking, snuggling and listening, and on and on. Each of these seemingly ordinary earthly experiences can point me to the gospel, reminding me both of the hope we have in God the Father’s faithful love for his children, and of my own neediness as his own child.

My role as a mother, loving my own boys, gives me a tiny glimpse of how God, as our heavenly Father, faithfully loves me along with all his other children. It amazes me that God loves us (1 Jn. 3:1), is always faithful (1 Cor. 1:9), sees and hears us (Gen. 16:11, 13), answers us when we call (Matt. 7:7-11; Ps. 91:15), comforts us (2 Cor. 1:4), knows our needs and cares for us (Matt. 6:8, 25-34). He delights in us bringing our needs honestly before him in prayer (Prov. 15:8; Matt. 6:5-14), disciplines us out of love (Heb. 12:3-11), and gives us what is for his glory and our good (Rom. 8:28). Our Father is “compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in love” (Ps. 103:8), and nothing can separate us from the love he bestows upon us in Jesus (Rom. 8:38-39). Given how fiercely even I, in all my imperfections, love my boys, it is astounding to think of how much more our perfect heavenly Father loves me and all of his children.

Witnessing and responding to the constant neediness of my boys also reminds me of my own experience as God’s child. Just as my little ones are often so helpless to help themselves, and even literally cannot survive without my care, I cannot save myself or even sustain myself apart from God’s care. His common grace, shown throughout all creation even as he holds all things together in Jesus (Col. 1:15-20), sustains my physical life and breath (Job 12:10); his special salvific grace expressed in Jesus and given in an ongoing manner through the Holy Spirit sustains my spiritual life (Jn. 10:10; Gal. 5:25). Never has my own need for God’s love and strength been as evident to me as now in this season of early motherhood, when I daily feel my own weakness and neediness as I come again and again to the end of my own physical and emotional and spiritual strength, wondering how on earth I can possible respond to one more cry for help, change one more diaper, wipe one more tear, wake up one more time in the dark hours of the night to nurse, give myself to one more moment of intentional presence with my boys. And yet my children’s neediness and how they cry out to me for help, paired with my own neediness when consistently faced with my own inability, provide repeated opportunities for me to cry to my own heavenly Father for help and strength.

How thankful I am that we have a faithful heavenly Father, whose strength never fails, whose “power is made perfect in weakness” (2 Cor. 12:9), and who “has given us everything we need for life and godliness” (2 Peter 1:3). I hope and pray that remembering how much I am loved and filled by God in Jesus through the ongoing work of the Holy Spirit will encourage me to love my own children from a place of fullness—a fullness that does not originate from me or my own abilities or efforts. I also pray that the Holy Spirit will be growing me in the habit of using the seemingly infinite number of the small daily moments of neediness in motherhood as prompts for humility, reminders to vulnerably confess and pray to my Father for help, and opportunities to worship God and trust in him and his sustaining grace. We can trust that God the Father’s faithfulness toward us gives us “strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow” (as celebrated in the hymn “Great is Thy Faithfulness”), equipping us to faithfully love our own children and those around us with the love that he first showed us (1 Jn. 4:11).

May remembering God the Father’s faithfulness move us to worship, even as we look to him for help:

“Great is Thy Faithfulness”

“Great is Thy faithfulness,” O God my Father,
There is no shadow of turning with Thee;
Thou changest not, Thy compassions, they fail not
As Thou hast been Thou forever wilt be.
 
“Great is Thy faithfulness!” “Great is Thy faithfulness!”
  Morning by morning new mercies I see;
All I have needed Thy hand hath provided—
    “Great is Thy faithfulness,” Lord, unto me!

Summer and winter, and springtime and harvest,
Sun, moon and stars in their courses above,
Join with all nature in manifold witness
To Thy great faithfulness, mercy and love.

Pardon for sin and a peace that endureth,
Thine own dear presence to cheer and to guide;
Strength for today and bright hope for tomorrow,
Blessings all mine, with ten thousand beside!


-“Great is Thy Faithfulness”

Laboring, Together

Posted on by Chel

Last month, my husband and I welcomed our second precious little baby boy into the world! And while this experience is impossible to fully capture in words, something I can say is that it has led me to marvel once again at the beauty and power of relationship, and of being present in relationship—with others, as well as ultimately with God. It also has led me to rejoice anew in the hope of the Gospel.

I had a grueling and somewhat traumatizing first labor, although thankfully both my first baby as well as I ended up being okay in the end. Yet after this experience, “horrifying” was the main word that came to mind, unbidden, whenever I thought of labor. And even though I dearly wanted to have another baby, as soon as I discovered I was pregnant for the second time, I began having nightmares about having to give birth. During my first labor, my experience of intense pain led me to panic, struggle for control, fight against the pain, and turn inward—which left me feeling alone and overwhelmed even though my husband, my doula, and my nurses were all in the room to support me. Although I was present physically, emotionally I was completely alone and checked out. As I learned from processing with my husband and doula later on, they said they too felt I was unreachable, and that they felt helpless to help me in my pain as I was turned so far inward in spite of them wanting to be with me.

As my husband and I, along with our doula, processed our first birth experience and looked toward our second, we thought a lot about what we appreciated about our first experience as well as what we hoped would be different the second time around. And the main two words we came to were “present” and “trusting”. We hoped and prayed that we could have an experience in which we were more present with one another and in our experience—rather than fearful—and more trusting of one another, our support team, in the process itself, and ultimately the LORD.

 Practically, there were certain exercises I practiced to help me work through some of the trauma and reactivity I felt regarding labor, including praying, talking with my husband and trusted friends to process various aspects of my experience, using the Gentle Birth program to practice mindfulness and breathing exercises and some hypnotherapy exercises, and journaling. But mostly preparing for a labor where I and my husband hoped we could be more present looked like me, as well as him, trying to be more intentional in our everyday lives in being vulnerable, present, and trusting in our relationships and our ensuing emotions. We tried to be intentional in these ways our relationships with each other, with family and friends, in our relationship with God, even in our relationship with ourselves. And as we prepared and invited more people into our experience, while we were still afraid at times, we also found that we were slowly but surely moving towards feeling more connected and hopeful—more present and trusting.

And when the long-anticipated day of labor finally came, my husband and I felt the LORD’s presence with us in such a special way even as we were present with one another, our doula, and the support staff at the hospital. While of course there were many moments of pain and difficulty, the pain and the difficulty felt “okay” instead of “horrifying” because I did not feel alone. When the pain came, instead of turning inward, I tried to invite others into my experience as well as to respond to their offers of reaching to me, helping me, and sitting with me in that space. My husband stayed with me, offering his steady and encouraging and comforting presence through the highs and lows, and we felt all the more connected in our love for one another for going through this special experience together. My doula stayed with me, offering her reassuring, comforting, and competent presence as she helped me continue on even when it felt so hard. The nurses and doctors stayed with me, offering encouragement and well as the ability to practically care for the well-being of me and my baby.

Staying present with my husband and with the rest of my support team, as well as staying present in my own emotional experience, felt incredibly vulnerable—it is hard to imagine a more physically and emotionally messy and vulnerable time of life than labor. I was tempted many times to slip back into my typical response of trying to take control and turn inward, and even moved toward this space at times. But I am so grateful my husband and support team stayed with me, beckoning me back even in these hard moments, and that overall by God’s grace I was able to respond to their invitations to presence. And the connection that came out of being present and trusting was so beautiful and richly rewarding, and made the experience of labor and delivery all the more profound and joyful. As my husband and doula and support team sat with me in my distress and proved able to hold my experience, they also rejoiced with me when the long-awaited moment of baby’s entry into the world came. What a sweet moment birth finally was, a moment that was all the sweeter for being shared amidst all of us that were in the room!

I am convinced that as is the case with so much of earthly life, my experience of relationship in labor is a small reflection of many aspects of the Gospel. During labor, my husband and my doula offered me unconditional love and presence, as well as the ability and willingness to hold my emotions and experience. Even when—in both an emotional as well as a literal physical sense—I was weak, and needy, and messy, and completely vulnerable, they never failed to stay with me. Instead of leaving me alone, or telling me to clean up or get it together, or to rely on my own strength, they entered into my experience and sat with me until labor was complete, I delivered my dear baby, and gradually I began to recover. I am unspeakably grateful, humbled, and filled with love as I think of the grace, love, and help my husband and doula extended to me even in this most tender of moments.

The power of relationship that I experience in labor provides me with a beautiful, tangible glimpse of the unconditional love and grace that God extends to us in Jesus by the power of his Holy Spirit: He invites us into relationship with him, through the cleansing work of Jesus on the cross and by the ongoing presence of the Holy Spirit. Though we were spiritually entangled and dirtied in our sin, helpless to save ourselves apart from him—as messy and as unloveable and needy as we could possibly be—he entered into relationship with us, cleansed us, welcomed us into new life, adopted us as his very sons and daughters (e.g., Eph. 1-2). And he continues to offer his presence to us in the person of the Holy Spirit (e.g., Jn. 14:16-17, 26-27); he is a God who is near (e.g., Phil. 4:5), who comforts us (e.g., 2 Cor. 1:3-4), who saves us (e.g., Jn. 3:16-17). Because he is with us, we can remain true and faithful until he returns (e.g., 1 Cor. 1:4, 7-9). And someday, once Jesus does return and make all things right, we will be perfectly in relationship with him, all sorrow will have passed, and we will rejoice with Jesus and with one another (e.g., Rev. 21:5, 22:1-5). We are not alone, and never will be. If, as I experienced in labor, relationship with fellow humans is so powerful and life-changing, even to the point of making the seemingly unbearable bearable, how much more profound is relationship with the one true God?

How thankful I am for presence and trust in relationships—relationship with loved ones, and ultimately relationship with the LORD.

*My husband and I are infinitely grateful for our doula, whose presence with us in labor made all the difference in the world!

Celebrating We

Posted on by Chel

This past week marked a significant milestone in my professional life – I finally completed my clinical hours and can apply for full licensure as a marriage and family therapist. My husband so sweetly marked this occasion with having a little surprise celebration ready for me upon my return from work. But truly, I think instead of celebrating me, we were and are really celebrating “we”.

I used to have a very individualistic understanding of life, including in how I took pride in “my” work and “my” efforts and “my” accomplishments. I felt as though “my” time was just that – mine – and that how I chose to spend it and what impact these choices had was largely my own business. Looking back, I realize that truly time and accomplishments were never really only my own – every moment is a gift from the LORD, as are any talents or resources that I may have. And from the time I was small what I did was only made possible by the love and support of family and friends. Yet I often failed to realize my need of others, and became overly focused on my ability to choose and to do.

Just how much of an illusion the idea of “my” time and efforts and accomplishments is – and really always was – has become evident to me in such tangible ways since becoming married and linking my life to that of my husband’s, and even more so since having a baby. With each day that passes, I realize increasingly clearly that whatever I do requires sacrifice and means that I am not doing something else – and that this has large implications for those closest to me, especially my husband and toddler. Motherhood is also incredibly humbling, in that I realize quickly and often the limits of my own capabilities and energies and efforts, and repeatedly learn that I can really only “accomplish” anything with the support of loved ones and by grace of God.

I am so grateful I have a husband who loves me so well and so generously, and a toddler who has been so flexible. The completion of my licensure hours is all the more meaningful to me since it is such a tangible reminder of all of the love and care and support of those I love most dearly – my husband and toddler as well as so many other family members, friends, teachers, mentors, and supervisors. I am so thankful my husband and I can celebrate this milestone together while continuing to be on this adventure of life with one another and striving to love one another well. As I believe is true in most of life, I find accomplishment is sweetest when shared and made possible in the context of meaningful relationship.

One!

Posted on by Chel

This past weekend our dear little baby turned one! It was such a special time of love and of presence, and of celebration – of our baby, and of God’s work in his and our lives. The night before Baby’s birthday, after he was fast asleep, my husband and I decorated downstairs with balloons and streamers and birthday signs and party hats and noisemakers, and set out his wrapped presents. (We found ourselves growing so excited that we wanted to run upstairs to wake Baby up and show him the festivities he had in store; it was just so sweet to be able to lovingly plan for his special day.) The next morning, Baby was indeed amazed and delighted by the decorations; he pointed at the streamers and touched the signs, and especially loved pointing at and playing with his birthday balloons (which, thankfully, did not pop).

And decorations were just the beginning of a birthday filled with special surprises. We made Baby breakfast pancakes. We video chatted with family – they even sang him “Happy Birthday”, and he got to show them his new presents. He played with his new toys – he especially seemed to love his new toy train – and of course had to do some napping as well to replenish his birthday spirits. He also put up with a birthday photoshoot in an adorable birthday outfit that included suspenders and a matching little bowtie – although how squirmy and busy he now is made it much more challenging to take his one year pictures than his one month pictures.

In the afternoon, Nana and Papa arrived to join the celebration. Baby got to enjoy playing with them and even helped Papa and Daddy assemble his toy car track – said “helping” which included him holding the directions and hiding a piece or two. For dinner he got to enjoy birthday meatballs, followed by…birthday cake!!! He admired his cake and intently watched the candle while we sang him happy birthday, and then we gave him a slice. Right away he got blue icing all over his face and nose and hands, and then he grabbed the cake and shoved it right into his mouth. His little face quickly moved from surprise to glee, and he smiled and squealed and squished his hands and kicked his feet and quickly took another bite. As he became full, he then began to admire his blue hands and to study the texture of the cake and, of course, to smile around at all of us to make sure we saw how delightful this new experience was. And, indeed, it was delightful for all of us – his joy was contagious, and we were all full of smiles and laughter and gratitude in getting to witness and join in with his delight. He got a wonderful sugar rush from his cake, and was able to stay up nearly two hours past his regular bedtime to play and enjoy his birthday just a little longer before drifting off to sleep. And the celebrations extended into the rest of the weekend, other highlights of which included a botanical garden adventure, trying his first French fry, more playing and even snuggles with Nana and Papa, and shared enjoyment with the family.

All in all, I think it was a very sweet first birthday, which seemed a fitting way to celebrate what has been a very sweet first year with our dear Baby. I hope Baby felt very celebrated and special and loved; I certainly know that we love him and cherished this weekend with him. I find myself often wanting to press pause and save a moment forever, but as a wise colleague of mine often encourages me to do, I am trying to be a “sponge” and “soak up” these moments by being present in them and having a grateful heart. And we truly do have so much to be grateful for – my husband and I love our baby so much we can hardly contain it. As often seems to be the case for me in parenthood, I find I do not have adequate words to express the depth of love I have for my baby or how profound parenthood is or how thankful I am. The other day, my husband expressed that seeing Baby smile and hearing him laugh often leads my husband to feel as though he is about to cry because of how much he loves Baby; this is something I too feel more often than I can say – there is often a sense of my heart simply overflowing. The LORD has been so gracious to us and our baby this past year, and we are so humbled and so grateful for how he has been sustaining us and caring for us.

The milestone of Baby’s first birthday also prompted me and my husband to reflect on our baby, how he has grown, and how God has been at work in Baby’s and our lives this year. We are so thankful for our baby, for his joyful and friendly spirit, his contagious laughter, his insatiable curiosity, his playful antics, his quick smile, his tendency to express his emotions with his whole being, his snuggles, his hugs, his “ojitos”, the way he loves to copy us, the sound of his little yawns in our ears when we hold him close before bedtime, the way he sleeps with his bottom up in a pyramid, how when he “walks” holding our hands he sticks his tummy out, the messy curl to his hair, his perfectly chubby baby feet, the way he loves to try new food, the way he looks to us to share enjoyment, his flexibility and willingness to try new things…the list could of course go on endlessly. How he has grown since we first met him a year ago, and how we love getting to know him better each day as he continues to develop into his own little person.

As my husband and I reflect on how we hope God will continue to be at work in our baby’s life in the future, we pray that Baby will grow up knowing he is loved by Jesus, by us, and by family and friends – and that as he grows, he will come to reciprocate this love by loving Jesus, us, and others. It seems fitting to close with the verse that we often pray over Baby, and in which we ourselves have also found much hope and encouragement:

Ephesians 3:14-19 New International Version (NIV)

 14 For this reason I kneel before the Father, 15 from whom every family in heaven and on earth derives its name. 16 I pray that out of his glorious riches he may strengthen you with power through his Spirit in your inner being, 17 so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith. And I pray that you, being rooted and established in love,18 may have power, together with all the Lord’s holy people, to grasp how wide and long and high and deep is the love of Christ, 19 and to know this love that surpasses knowledge—that you may be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God.

We love you, Baby. May you always be filled to the measure of all the fullness of God. Happy One! (:

First Flight Home

Posted on by Chel

Baby is now quite the little traveler! This past month he – and we – had a huge adventure in that we flew to visit our families for two weeks. My husband and I had been anticipating this trip for months, and felt great excitement and expectation but also some uncertainty about the logistics, as travelling with a baby felt like such unknown territory. Amidst trying to prepare as much as we could, we decided that we wanted to try to focus on connection and presence, while also trying to consider both the ups and downs that would occur as an adventure. And it turns out that, as anticipated, our family trip certainly was an adventure – an adventure that was deeply meaningful and filled with love, and that also included many firsts.

One big first was that Baby had his very first plane flight! After days of packing and anticipation and preparation we arrived at the airport with: 2 large suitcases to check, one heavy car seat in a neon yellow carrying bag, one stroller, Baby’s carry-on suitcase, Baby’s large diaper bag, Baby’s small diaper backpack, a computer bag, a baby carrier, and – Baby!!! My husband and I could not help but laugh at ourselves when we saw all that we were carrying along with us and when we reflected on how much our lives have changed since previous flights we have taken together as a couple.

In particular we remembered back to our honeymoon, when, waiting at the gate, we saw a harried young mother with her children, bustling around looking stressed and rushed and generally overwhelmed. I remember us watching her with wonder as we noticed how different our lives seemed to be from hers, in a way that was hard to fathom. Sitting so quietly as a couple, we felt as though flying was a restful time to sit close to one another and talk and read and play games – in sum, almost a vacation in and of itself. In contrast, flying looked to be the hardest of work for that young mother. We thought of that particular mother several times on this trip, and couldn’t help but find humor in how many things we had and how much more cumbersome it was to get around and how, in all likelihood, to others we had become the frazzled young parents. We are now beginning to appreciate flying for the great logistical feat it is, at least when flying with children! I can only imagine what I will feel if we ever have any more kids – although some grandmothers who were admiring Baby in the airport jokingly shared with us that while you pack everything for your first baby, as number of children increase you become increasingly minimalistic until you likely reach a point where all you believe you need is a diaper, a change of clothes, and perhaps a snack. If that is indeed true, what we brought on our first flight for Baby could someday suffice for a family of about 20!

Yet in all seriousness, while I think both my husband and I felt some stress and pressure around logistical details, and we sometimes miss aspects of our more “carefree” days as just two, we wouldn’t trade being three for anything in the world. Our stress was undoubtedly overshadowed by the deep joy and delight and love we felt for one another, and by our sense of gratitude for being able to go somewhere as an entire family. I must also note that, in spite of all my initial concern, Baby actually was a natural traveler. After a quick nap in the airport to replenish his spirits, he was able to enjoy watching planes out the window of the airport from up on Daddy’s shoulders. Once on the airplane we sat so that I – with Baby on my lap – was next to the window, and Daddy was in the middle. Baby loved looking out the window during takeoff, and my husband and I loved sharing this special moment with him. It was a beautiful moment in so many ways – it was during that magical twilight hour when the sun was low in the sky and light took on a mysterious and beautiful quality. The sky was alight in orange and red contrasted with the deep purple and blue of the thunderstorms brewing below us, and the clouds had a quality that was simultaneously both substantial and fleeting. Our dear baby gazed out the window and we pointed at the sky and the various lights in view – from both the plane wing as well as the city and car lights growing ever more distant below. Sitting next to my husband, with both of us enjoying our baby enjoying this unprecedented experience of the world, my heart felt so full. After gazing out the window for awhile, our little baby fell asleep in the baby sling against my chest. Never have I had such a cozy and snuggly flight – and how I am trying to soak up these moments of closeness while my dear baby is still small enough to snuggle against me in this way.

Once we landed, we spent a week with Daddy’s family and then a week with Mommy’s family. We had some grand moments, but so many of the little everyday moments were just as special. It was also such a priceless experience to get to participate in the layering of favorite old memories with the creation of new memories. Following are some of the especially notable moments I have been cherishing:

Moments with Daddy’s family:

  • Family time in the giant church van – Grandpa, Grandma, both uncles, Mommy, Daddy, and Baby all got to ride together! Baby loved getting to interact with everyone while driving, and also seemed quite amazed at looking out the giant windows from such a tall vantage point.
  • Family brunch – This is something we used to love to do before Baby, and it was even more special and enjoyable doing with him along. Brunch seemed to suit him just as well as it does us!
  • First time seeing the ocean – As a family, we visited the oceanside city where my husband and I had our very first official date. We told Baby this is where it all began.
  • Strolling with Grandpa – He looked so proud and happy pushing Baby in his stroller.
  • Reading with Grandma – Baby was especially delighted when she read him and his stuffed doggy toy a doggy book that even included her making barking sound effects.
  • First time at a theme park – He even got to watch his uncle perform at a show here, and seemed so excited about the music!
  • Playing with his uncles – They connected in many playful yet tender moments and genuine joy. I love seeing this new side of my husband’s and my brothers.
  • Meeting great grandparents – He even got a family picture with four generations! He is the first great grandchild – just like he is the first grandchild for both my and my husband’s parents.
  • Entering in to community – Baby got to meet Grandma and Grandpa’s church community, and many family friends, and was welcomed with love.
  • Meeting Mommy’s friends – He got to meet some of my dear college friends.
  • Seeing Baby’s delight in being around other people – He truly seemed to light up, even though he also got sleepy by the end of the day. He seems to be a truly social little bub.
  • Date nights – It was so refreshing to have Grandma and Grandpa babysit after we put Baby to bed, so we could go out!
  • Baby’s remarkable flexibility – I learn about flexibility through being a parent, but also can learn about it from my baby’s example. He is remarkably good at being present and trying new things!

Moments with Mommy’s family:

  • First time staying in a hotel – We stayed as a family in a hotel near where Baby’s uncle lives; Baby not only got to enjoy extra family time but also treats such as breakfast in the lobby and snuggles in bed with my husband and I as we watched a late night movie.
  • Playing with uncle – I loved seeing them mutually delight in one another. Uncle hadn’t seen Baby since baby was a newborn, so the ways he has grown were especially apparent and enjoyable.
  • First time playing in the sand and getting in the ocean (just his toes) – He seemed to love it, and kept trying to tug us back to the waves when we held on to his hands to help him “walk”. He was initially alarmed by the sand sticking to his hands and feet, but once he realized it was okay, he seemed to relish the messiness. I too love playing in sand!
  • First time going swimming in the pool and hot tub – He got to swim with Nana and Papa in my childhood home, where I myself used to love to swim when I was Baby’s age. He also loved sitting in Mister Crab, the cute little floatie toy Nana and Papa got him.
  • Nana and Papa time – I loved seeing my parents delight in Baby in ways big and small, from swimming with him to imitating his sounds to sitting on the floor with him to being silly with him and just generally loving him. And I loved seeing him connect with them.
  • Making friends with a doggy – He got to meet my little childhood dog, who loves children. He was initially afraid of her, but quickly came around as he realized she was gentle and friendly.
  • Being a team – I really enjoyed how my husband and I got to grow in our relationship in the sense of being both an effective co-parenting team but also a couple.
  • Resting – It was so refreshing to have family around to both enjoy and help out with Baby. This means at times, my husband and I even got to rest at the same moment, and to go on some dates!

There are, of course, countless other memories I could share, and I would still not be able to fully capture how special of a time it was or how grateful I feel. Baby was so incredibly flexible and joyful and sociable and gracious and present, and I think my husband and I were indeed able to focus on connection and presence after all. While I think we all had moments of feeling tired, overall we all deeply cherished moments shared with family. There truly is nothing like being with family, and experiencing the multiplying sense of love and joy that occurs within and amongst family: my husband and I love our families and being around them, and love seeing Baby enjoy being with family, and seeing family enjoy being with him, which of course increases our own sense of love and joy – on and on in a recursive and seemingly infinite loop. Once again, my heart is so full.

 

Messy

Posted on by Chel

My husband and I are finding that as our baby gets increasingly mobile – he can now “creep” about the floor remarkably quickly! – our home gets increasingly messy. Even when my husband and I try our best to tidy up the living room at the end of the day, just a few minutes after we come downstairs the following morning, toys and baby things are strewn about everywhere – cars, shapes, stackable cups, balls, rings, animals, teethers, puzzles, activity stations, stuffed animals, pillows, blankets and more. Sometimes all of these baby items make our relatively small living room feel too crowded and chaotic and unpredictable and out of control and disorganized…in a word, messy. But it also feels lived in, as all of these various items are reminders of moments shared in this space – moments of laughter and connection and learning and play, and also of tears and frustration. As our baby learns and grows, and as we learn and grow with him, messiness happens, but even our small and limited living room is proving capable of holding these experiences. This messy living room is the very space in which relationship and connection is occurring, and in which each day we are getting to know our dear little baby better and better – and, I hope, in which he is getting to know us. And when we think of this, my husband and I truly wouldn’t have it be any other way.

This tangible picture of messiness as a means of play – and therefore, connection – that I get to experience daily with my baby makes me think of the more abstract “messiness” of connection that I experience in relationship, particularly relationship with my husband. Lately my husband and I have been having some hard conversations within the “living room” of our marriage; while there is a part of me that wants to “clean up” this relational space instead of allowing complex emotions and different perspectives and sometimes contradictory desires and varying opinions and numerous needs and heavy stressors to get “strewn about”, doing so would actually mean our relationship was not particularly “lived in”, and would likely make it hard to truly be engaging with one another. So my husband and I have been trying our best to process our relationship by discussing how we each are experiencing one another and our marriage, how we are feeling known and loved well, and how we could be knowing and loving one another better – we are trying to “play” in our relational space with one another. This is sometimes hurtful and hard, and we both often fall short of how we aspire to love one another, but it is also usually ends up fostering greater mutual connection and closeness and knowing and learning and growing. And I think over the years, we are becoming increasingly able to trust in our love for one another within the messy “living room” of our marriage, and to then trust that this love is strong enough to hold the honesty of painful emotions, truths, and experiences alongside joyful experiences. Or, said another way, we are learning that our love for one another is strong enough and safe enough to hold mutual vulnerability, for even though we at times hurt one another – both intentionally and unintentionally – at the end of the day we know our hearts are for one another, and, by God’s grace, always will be.

The Goodness of Watermelon

Posted on by Chel

My baby started eating rice cereal and pureed food several months ago, but only within the past several weeks has he been eating finger foods as well. Watching him experience food in all its textured, flavorful, chewy glory has been delightful to witness: He seems genuinely amazed and proud to be able to touch the food on his high chair tray with his very own fingers. He also seems to find great fulfillment and purpose in diligently practicing his pincer grasp, whereby he – increasingly successfully – attempts to bring the morsels of food, accompanied by several fingers that often seem to have wiggly lives of their own, to his mouth. This arrival of any food/fingers to his mouth is often celebrated by a broad, open mouthed, toothy “hippo” grin such as completely melts my heart. There truly is no one else with whom my husband and I would rather share our meals, or our days.

One of baby’s most unbridled expressions of joy so far during this finger foods process came about when I gave him a piece of watermelon several days ago. I was eating watermelon with my own lunch, and as he was watching me very intently, I offered him a piece of his own. He immediately broke out in an eager smile, then proceeded to open his hands wide in excitement. Soon, he began to use his fingers to explore the cold, juicy texture while giving the sound he often makes when excited – a little “huh” chuckle that is often accompanied by smiles and sometimes even by flapping arms alternating with the tensing of his arms and legs as he squeezes out his excitement. He used his ever-improving pincer grasp to bring the juicy melon to his mouth, said melon which he then sucked on, took out of his mouth to again look and laugh at, returned to his mouth to suck and chew on, and even eventually swallowed (or at least partially swallowed). By the end, he was still full of smiles and laughter, and his adorable face and little hands – as well as his highchair, bib, and everything else within reach – were covered in pink, juicy, sticky evidence of the watermelon he had so loved.

As is often the case, getting to see the way in which my baby delights in the world around him encourages me to see and reflect upon the world in new ways myself. His enjoyment of food –especially watermelon! – is no exception. Witnessing his experience with watermelon leads me to wonder about food as God originally intended it to be. As everything that God created was good (Genesis 1:31), I imagine food is no exception. Not only did God originally create human beings as good, and food as good, he made human beings with taste buds to register the delicious goodness of food – and as far as I can tell this is not something that God had to do (as I’m sure he could have thought up other ways to ensure people partook of enough energy to sustain life). And yet he did! And the fact that he did can and does bring us great joy and fellowship, even as I got to experience as I ate lunch with my dear little baby. As an aside, this reminds me of a professor at my undergraduate institution who had a heart that was especially worshipful; one of his sermons included an exhortation to take time to truly look at the world around us – an example of which included the amazing complexity of taste buds – for if we truly do so, we will not be able to help but be moved to worship God. This makes me inclined to think that enjoying watermelon together, or any food, can lead to worship.

I like thinking about how food enjoyed well can lead to worship and can also be a space for fellowship, which leads me to believe food can be life-giving in a literal sense but also in a spiritual and relational sense. I especially appreciate recognizing this goodness of food, as I also know how food eaten for less wholesome reasons or in other ways can be particularly soul deadening. One of the many implications of living life after the Fall (Genesis 3) is that even good things can be grossly distorted, and I think food, including human relationships with food, is no exception. I even think that sometimes food itself can mistakenly become an object of worship, or that relationship with food can take place of relationship with others or even with God. I experienced this for myself in a particularly extreme way in my junior high years when I became anorexic and isolated, and today still notice I can sometimes look to food as a form of comfort or avoidance or indulgence or rest or happiness, or as a way to control, or as a way to “fill” emptiness I may feel in my heart.

Yet seeing my baby enjoy food in a way that I imagine is close to how God originally intended brings me great joy and hope that even in this fallen world the goodness of food can be redeemed – that it can be enjoyed in its rightful place, for what it is, and that it can lead to worship and fellowship and life.