It's Lent, and my posts in these past few days are distinctly Lenten posts. Today, however, I can't find it within myself to write another post about crosses, or struggles, or the nitty gritty implications of the Christian walk. Today, this day, this lovely day, is my Christopher Luke's first birthday.
I love this baby, this would-be-a-toddler-if-he-decided-to-walk Little Guy. I love his pure joy at waking up in the morning, and his utter delight at peering over the edge of his pack-n-play to discover - again - his still sleeping parents. I love his giggles games, his outright chortles over peek-a-boo, and his screaming laughter over "chase." Everything is new for him. It blows his mind that he can move wooden beads along a maze of wires. He thinks it's hilarious when the toy that disappeared behind my back reappears on the other side. He wants to drop the same toy, or book, or rag on the floor over and over again because he just cannot believe that it falls down every. single. time.
I am utterly charmed just watching him putter around the living room, investigating every loose piece of paper sticking out from a shelf, experimenting with what happens when you push on the books on the shelf, discovering all over again a fascinating toy, being suddenly distracted by a more fascinating piece of shiny junk, chewing thoughtfully on a wooden block. My heart nearly explodes with delighted satisfaction at the joy of seeing him crawl efficiently off to inspect the hallway and the other rooms of the apartment for any toys or random objects left within reach. He is most endlessly fascinating when he is ignoring me.
I love doing life with him, as frustrating as it is. He sits on the edge of the sink while I wash dishes - his back against the microwave, his feet dangling into the rinse sink - experimenting with the physics of the clean dishes that I stack on his side of the sink, and dabbing his feet in the running water when I rinse those dishes. Laundry day is a personal favorite of his; there are so many ways for him to help, from dropping dirty socks into drawers of clean clothing, to adding folded t-shirts back into the basket of unfolded laundry. When I go grocery shopping with him, he leaves a trail of smiles in the wake of his adorableness.
This child, this squeezable, kissable, beautiful, crazy-making child is bursting with Life. This is the promise; this is why we go through Lent. Life abundant is the only things that makes the cross worthwhile. Suffering in and of itself is pointless. Death left to its own devices is ignoble. Sacrifice without hope is foolish. Only in the Resurrection looming large beyond them do they gain significance, nobility, and wisdom. We embrace Lent not because we love Lent, but because we have to get through Lent to come to Easter.
what we're about
Attempts to illuminate our brief mortal existence
Showing posts with label loves. Show all posts
Showing posts with label loves. Show all posts
Thursday, February 21, 2013
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
On vocation
I've been reading a lot of Catholic writing recently, from Catholic bloggers to the Pope. And one idea that I've come across quite consistently is that of vocation as answering the question, "who will I serve?" This has been an enormously helpful consideration for me. After all, for me the primary answer to that question is made obvious by my situation in life: I am a spouse, and I am a parent. This is my vocation, to serve my family. When I look at any given day, and make my lists of what needs to go in it, the summation of my priorities is:
Serve Landon. Serve Christopher.
And this has made several other things abundantly clear. I knew right away that this was about more than housework and baby playtime; this was about my life having priorities so that there was a hook to hang everything on, and so that I would know when I was out of hooks. So, because serving Christopher is a priority, and because Christopher and an open laptop do not happily co-exist, I've suddenly found the motivation to close my computer and find other things to do when Christopher is awake. Christopher knows when I'm distracted, not just from direct attention to him, but from being engaged with him and his needs; he knows that when I'm on the computer, he has to work three times as hard to get my attention for something as basic as a diaper change. This should not be, of course, and I knew that my computer and I had issues, but I've never been able to quite get a handle on it. I think that this is because I was still thinking of it terms of how I would benefit from being off the computer - how much less guilty I would feel, how much more I would get done. It wasn't until I thought in terms of serving Christopher that I was able to see how much of a no-brainer it is to just close the laptop while Christopher is awake, and I'm the only one at home. I'm able to be much more in tune with Christopher's needs, and as a bonus I get some of the other things thrown in - less guilt about my computer use, and more productivity on the home front. I still get on my computer at least twice almost every day, but I've found a hook to hang it on - it doesn't belong in the same time as my son.
These hooks, however, are not all full with housework and baby play time. It's a dirty little secret in my stay-at-home-mom-of-one life that, honestly, I have time. It might be somewhat unpredictable time, but it's still there. And the thing about thinking of life in terms of vocation, the thing that differentiates it for me from some other notions of service to a husband or children is that I am not asking them to define my self by my service to them, but I am serving them by giving them my Self. In order for this to be meaningful, there has to be a Self to give. And in order for me to have a Self to give them, I need to be doing things that renew, refresh, and build-up that Self. I know that in years to come, when there are two or three or more little ones running around, and they're making more work for me, and demanding more in terms of interaction, I might not have much time for this - it'll be manna in the wilderness time for me then. But that time is not now, and right now I have time to do one very concrete thing to build-up this Self that I give in service to my family - I have time to go back to school. Not a lot of time, granted, but a little. And suddenly, I've found the willpower to spend a little bit of time, every day, working on going back to school. So far, I've finished filling out one application and started in on another one. These are things that I've been meaning to do, talking about doing, for a very long time. My guilt, railings, and feelings of un-fulfillment weren't enough to overcome the inertia. Seeing it in terms of serving Landon and Christopher was. There are still lots of questions to be answered, like "how do you think you're going to pay for this?", but faithfulness doesn't require that I know the answers ahead of time. If it doesn't work out to go back to school because of issues other than time, at least I'll have explored that avenue to its end, and I'll know that it's time to turn to other option.
In the end, here, I'm a little frightened at the sheer gift of this all. As I look back at the past several days, and see the ways that I've found willpower where inertia seemed invincible, calm and persistence where anxiety seemed unstoppable, and an attitude of service where resentment seemed inevitable I am overwhelmed with the sheer grace of it. These things are not natural to me, and since they are a gift, I both marvel at their presence, and hold my breath for their absence. If the lives of those who have walked this path before me are any indication, the road will be much harder up ahead. Knowing my weakness, God has lavished me with so much help here at the beginning; He doesn't owe this to me, and He can withhold it in the future. But can I refuse to fully accept the gifts that He gives, because I want to protect myself against the pain of their surcease? I could, and that's a whole 'nother blog post, but for now, I find that I am also give the gift of gratitude.
Serve Landon. Serve Christopher.
And this has made several other things abundantly clear. I knew right away that this was about more than housework and baby playtime; this was about my life having priorities so that there was a hook to hang everything on, and so that I would know when I was out of hooks. So, because serving Christopher is a priority, and because Christopher and an open laptop do not happily co-exist, I've suddenly found the motivation to close my computer and find other things to do when Christopher is awake. Christopher knows when I'm distracted, not just from direct attention to him, but from being engaged with him and his needs; he knows that when I'm on the computer, he has to work three times as hard to get my attention for something as basic as a diaper change. This should not be, of course, and I knew that my computer and I had issues, but I've never been able to quite get a handle on it. I think that this is because I was still thinking of it terms of how I would benefit from being off the computer - how much less guilty I would feel, how much more I would get done. It wasn't until I thought in terms of serving Christopher that I was able to see how much of a no-brainer it is to just close the laptop while Christopher is awake, and I'm the only one at home. I'm able to be much more in tune with Christopher's needs, and as a bonus I get some of the other things thrown in - less guilt about my computer use, and more productivity on the home front. I still get on my computer at least twice almost every day, but I've found a hook to hang it on - it doesn't belong in the same time as my son.
These hooks, however, are not all full with housework and baby play time. It's a dirty little secret in my stay-at-home-mom-of-one life that, honestly, I have time. It might be somewhat unpredictable time, but it's still there. And the thing about thinking of life in terms of vocation, the thing that differentiates it for me from some other notions of service to a husband or children is that I am not asking them to define my self by my service to them, but I am serving them by giving them my Self. In order for this to be meaningful, there has to be a Self to give. And in order for me to have a Self to give them, I need to be doing things that renew, refresh, and build-up that Self. I know that in years to come, when there are two or three or more little ones running around, and they're making more work for me, and demanding more in terms of interaction, I might not have much time for this - it'll be manna in the wilderness time for me then. But that time is not now, and right now I have time to do one very concrete thing to build-up this Self that I give in service to my family - I have time to go back to school. Not a lot of time, granted, but a little. And suddenly, I've found the willpower to spend a little bit of time, every day, working on going back to school. So far, I've finished filling out one application and started in on another one. These are things that I've been meaning to do, talking about doing, for a very long time. My guilt, railings, and feelings of un-fulfillment weren't enough to overcome the inertia. Seeing it in terms of serving Landon and Christopher was. There are still lots of questions to be answered, like "how do you think you're going to pay for this?", but faithfulness doesn't require that I know the answers ahead of time. If it doesn't work out to go back to school because of issues other than time, at least I'll have explored that avenue to its end, and I'll know that it's time to turn to other option.
In the end, here, I'm a little frightened at the sheer gift of this all. As I look back at the past several days, and see the ways that I've found willpower where inertia seemed invincible, calm and persistence where anxiety seemed unstoppable, and an attitude of service where resentment seemed inevitable I am overwhelmed with the sheer grace of it. These things are not natural to me, and since they are a gift, I both marvel at their presence, and hold my breath for their absence. If the lives of those who have walked this path before me are any indication, the road will be much harder up ahead. Knowing my weakness, God has lavished me with so much help here at the beginning; He doesn't owe this to me, and He can withhold it in the future. But can I refuse to fully accept the gifts that He gives, because I want to protect myself against the pain of their surcease? I could, and that's a whole 'nother blog post, but for now, I find that I am also give the gift of gratitude.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
On compensation
Between two and four weeks of age Christopher started crying on occasion when we set him down, and ever since then he grows more and more demanding of distraction, stimulation, and interaction. But as he grows more demanding, he also grows more delightfully interactive. He started with smiling. Then cooing expressively. After that, he began giggling when Landon and I made faces at him. And then when we tickled him. Eventually, he started reaching for us and trying to pull us closer. Currently, he is bored with all of his toys and very insistent in his desire for playtime with Mum-mum, but he has also started giving giant, slobbery, gummy baby kisses.
And now, he is crawling - mobility has arrived, the ultimate in parental time and attention demands. He can crawl towards the phone cord in the wall. He can crawl towards the open door into the bathroom. He can crawl toward the book forgotten on the floor. Nothing is safe. But in addition to all of the above, he can crawl towards me, place his tiny baby hands carefully on my toes, and look up at me with a face covered in drool and eyes full of living delight.
And now, he is crawling - mobility has arrived, the ultimate in parental time and attention demands. He can crawl towards the phone cord in the wall. He can crawl towards the open door into the bathroom. He can crawl toward the book forgotten on the floor. Nothing is safe. But in addition to all of the above, he can crawl towards me, place his tiny baby hands carefully on my toes, and look up at me with a face covered in drool and eyes full of living delight.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Girls and their animals...
I think I know why. The problem is that I can't really articulate it. When I think about that grouping of animals, and how I feel about them, I can feel what it is that attracts the hearts nd minds of young females. I can feel it, but I don't know if I can explain it. So before I try, why don't you have a crack at it.
If you're a girl:
- does this trio ring some bells for you? Do you remember loving them, or do you now? Can you articulate this better?
And if you're male:
- have you observed girls' love affairs with these animals? Are you confused about it? Do you have any theories?
One final observation: I think that some girls are seriously gypped in their love of unicorns by inferior ideas about what a unicorn is. They all need to read something like "The Last Unicorn" .
*Picture By Yamavu [GFDL (http://www.gnu.org/copyleft/fdl.html) or CC-BY-2.5 (www.creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.5)], via Wikimedia Commons
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)



