Bed time sweetness

Some of my favorite moments each day happen at bed time... I don't think much can top the feeling of Tommy's little arms wrapped around my neck as I sing him "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus there's just something about that name." Many times his husky little voice sings the name of "Jesus" right along with me. Often he interrupts the song by giving me a kiss right on the mouth. As I lay him down in his crib, he smiles up at me while I pray over him -- his eyes watching me intently until I am done. Then, he just rolls over - trusting the world is right. Some of Phoebe's most theological questions happen at bed time. "Mommy, does Jesus love Bubby? Mommy? Daddy? Me?" "Mommy, does Jesus like candy?" "Mommy, is Jesus done painting the baby in your belly?" I love watching her slowly getting to know her savior. I also love to pray with her. You never quite know who she will want to pray for ... and it is amazing when she does ask to pray for a friend or relative she hasn't brought up in a while - how timely the prayers are. I think the spirit whispers in Phoebe's ear. How humbling and magnificent all at the same time.

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The most spiritual thing I do each day might be...

I have been realizing more and more lately that I am a control freak. I want my house to be immaculate because I like to control my surroundings. I want to make sure I have all my "to dos" checked off because it shows I controlled my actions. I want an orderly scheduled week to control how I spend my time. Is my house immaculate. NO. Is my to do list done. NO. Does my life ever stick to a schedule. NO. But oh how I work to make it so... Which brings me to the most spiritual thing I do each day might be ... REST! God is showing me little bit by little bit that to rest is to allow Him control. When I rest, I have to stop trying, working, doing, striving, plotting, prodding, pushing, grasping for control. Rest requires trusting that God knows what He is about. He does have my best interest at heart and it just might not be an immaculate house.

Knowing what I am about ...

Though I have always wanted to stay at home when my children were small, becoming a stay-at-home mom was a harder adjustment than I had bargained for. I went from having a job with and an outlined description, set goals, and a yearly review to a job with little definition besides "feed the kids, dress the kids, make sure the kids sleep." To function well, I need goals. I need parameters. I need a way to evaluate myself. One night over a much needed break at Starbucks, God prodded me - "Write your own job description." My first reaction was, "Oh God - that is just silly." Still the prodding - "No really write your own job description." So with His guidance, I did. May I say that He knew it would help set me free of my own unrealistic expectations of myself and the guilt that would come at the end of the day when I couldn't see concrete results besides the kids were still breathing. As a parent, many days hold few concrete results - a report turned in on time, a sales goal met. We shape little lives, that one day will live on without us. We sow seeds now that won't bear fruit until weeks, years, or decades later. But when we fall on the couch exhausted at night with the house a wreckage around us - it is so hard to remember that "Today I did my job well." So if you are interested here is my job description: Growing as a disciple and lover of Jesus. Loving and spurring my husband in Christ. Raising my kids to love God, love themselves, love each other, and love the world. Providing a refuge for my family in the craziness of ministry. Being healthy physically and emotionally. Inviting others to share life in Christ by creating community.

Two thoughts together?

As a mom of young children there are days where I can't seem to put two logical thoughts together let alone write a cohesive paragraph. When I blog, I want to have something profound or witty to say. Needless to say -- I haven't blogged recently. This pressure I put on myself is part and parcel of my habit of demanding myself to perform well -- always. But you know there are days this lady doesn't even get into the shower until 3 p.m. or later. Praise be to God who loves us not for what we do but for who we are. He rejoices most in us not when we turn in a perfect performance but when we delight in Him and just reach out for His embrace. I don't really care that Phoebe says roon instead of room or that she runs into wall after wall because she fails to look ahead. What I do care about is that she feels loved, secure, and wants to give her mommy hugs.

Heard around the Fuerst house

Chatter fills our house because of our Phoebe. She commentates on all she sees and does. It is a delight most of the time. I also think it is teaching Tommy a lot too. Some Phoebeisms ... "I love you all time." "That's my game...." In reference to doing something incredibly silly. "You nasty butt." From what I can this is a term of endearment to her brother. "Oh you are so silly!" "Come ON!" Said as a source of frustration to anything whether object or person. "Nasty McNasty" In reference to poopy diapers or sometimes her brother. All baby dolls are Cassie. "What's that kid doing?" Her constant question. "Kid" Every one is a kid no matter if they are 1 or 100. "Less you" instead of bless you. Words Tommy says ... Daddy Jet Shoe Right Back (we say that a lot round here) Cherrio Sit down (because he is constantly standing on things) Cup Uh oh

The gift of housework?

I just finished reading "The Quotidian Mysteries" by Kathleen Norris, thanks to the recommendation of a wise friend. Norris spoke many words I needed to hear.

She writes, "Like liturgy, the work of cleaning draws much of its meaning and value from repetition, from the fact that it is never completed, but set aside until the next day. Both liturgy and what is euphemistically termed domestic work also have an intense relation with the present moment, a kind of faith in the present that fosters hope and makes life seem possible in the day-to-day."

I rarely find hope in the never-ending cycles of laundry, dishes, and picking up after my children, do you? But Norris reminds me over and over in her little book that such acts should remind me that it is NOW that God is present. Just like laundry is never ending, so is the grace of my savior. He is as present as the detergent. He invites me to think on Him in such moments, and not zone out or begrudge the action.

Just as I must prepare meals everyday, so must I also find nourishment in the Triune God daily. The Father created our work. The Son experienced the daily grind. The Spirit wants to give us life through such actions - no matter how domestic.

Bubby's first goose egg

My son is fearless. No obstacle is too big to climb over. No crevice is too small to crawl into. No object too wobbly to pull up on. (and yes I did just end those sentences with prepositions on purpose Dahms)

With his recent crawling successes, I think the littlest Fuerst has gotten a smidgen too big for his diaper. But today he was brought low by a ball.

He regularly chases around one rainbow colored ball. He crawls up to it, plants himself, then as he reaches for his circular nemesis with his chubby little hands, he sends the ball off again. Without a word of complaint he takes off anew in his continual hot pursuit.

Today, the ball must of been tired because Bubby actually caught it. But not only did he want to catch it, Tommy wanted to conquer it. In heartbeats, he locked his arms and pulled himself up to a standing position waving precariously above the ball. For a split second a look of triumph crossed his face, then the ball had its day as it rolled out from under him leaving Tommy with a face full of floor and a rather large goose egg.

I'm sure in the days ahead there will be many more goose eggs, scraped knees, and eventually even a broken bone or two as my son gains more control over hims limbs. If it weren't for the tears that needed dried today, I might have laughed at his circus antics.

Color's with Phoebe

Tonight while sitting in the living room Phoebe walks up to Jet and says, "Jet you are Black!" with a huge grin on her face.

Tom then says, "Color makes no difference here Phoebe."

With a smile now on my face I ask Phoebe, "What color are you?"

With an even bigger grin, "PINK!"

I then ask, "What color is Bubby?"

"Bubby's yellow." She begins to giggle.

"What color is Mommy?"

Laugh. "Green!" Laugh.

At this point I wonder what color her dad is in her 2-year-old eyes. "Phoebe what color is Daddy?"

"Daddy is white."

At the Fuerst residence there lives a fluff of cotton candy, a big cheese ball, a green alien and The Man --- plus one black lab.

Easter conversation with Phoebe

Easter morning after we finished praying over pancakes Phoebe asks, "Daddy are you God?"

Tom's response, "No sweetie, Jesus is God. And you know what He is alive!"

Phoebe grins and then says "Oh yeah!" and begins to eat.

What a sweet moment. My daughter is already beginning to think about God. Jesus thank you for daughters, pancakes, and most of all rising from the grave and defeating death!

Eating as a social event ...

As a mom, I spend a lot of time preparing food. Most days the kids and I have 3 square meals together around the table. Tom usually gets to join us for at least one.

Phoebe refuses to eat alone. She has to have somebody sitting with her. She will settle for her brother in a high chair, but she usually insists on having me right next to her. If I am still in the kitchen or trying to get a load of laundry in the dryer, she'll persistently tell me to, "Sit down Mommy! Mommy eat!"

I've been ruminating on her dislike to eat alone --- or anyone's dislike to eat alone for that matter. Since infancy, meals are a social event. As a baby nurses, he is pressed up against his mother looking her in the eyes. Or if an infant takes a bottle she is still in the arms of a trusted adult interacting and making connections. Once a baby graduates to table food, he still needs someone else to help him eat: to be near.

To eat is to commune with others. Maybe this is why important holidays include a feast of some sort. Maybe this is why we ask new friends to join us for a meal. Maybe this is why God invites us to the Table to partake of the gift of His Son.

I love that when we share eternity with the Father, Son, and Spirit it will be at a huge banquet table with good food, good friends, and good conversation. We will never have to eat alone. Phoebe will LOVE that.

Spiritual Disciplines as a busy mom ...

As a kid, I remember time creeping by. The minute hand took years to get to it's destination for recess. Christmas was a decade away in November. My birthday seemed to happen once a century.

Now I wake up, change a few diapers, fix a little food, maybe get a load of laundry done, and poof it's bed time. The hours race by me leaving me feeling dizzy and a bit disoriented. I often ask, "Where did that day go?"

So in a day that lasts a minute, when do I find time to practice the spiritual disciplines: prayer, study, solitude, etc.?

My experiment of the last couple of months looks something like this ... I've let the lines of the spiritual and the everyday blur. For example, at the breakfast table Phoebe and I read the lectionary passages intermittently with her children's Bible story book. She loves to pray for her family and friends by name. While I throw a load of laundry in the dryer I try to contemplate the scripture we read in the morning. During nap time I sit for at least ten minutes in just the quiet. When we go on walks I try to remember to celebrate God's creation. If I wrong one of my children, I confess it to them even if they don't understand.

I'm realizing God fully knows the demands of motherhood. He doesn't expect us to grow in spite of our circumstances, but uniquely through them.

Friend how do you incorporate faith in the everyday?

Things we are learning

Each week is full of new discoveries for each of the Fuerstians.

Phoebe has learned to ...
click her tongue
say thank you on a consistent basis without prompts
count to two
talk our friend Janet into almost anything :)
be a hostess (she gets capri suns out of the fridge for friends who come over)
"swim" in the bathtub
hugs from friends are a good thing not a threat

Tommy has learned to ...
sit up by himself with no support
eat cereal
roll over with the aim of getting something or going somewhere
bite fingers (he's got two teeth now)
sleep in his crib for 7 hours at a time at night
pull his socks off and suck on them
yell just for the pure pleasure of making noise

I've learned ...
to let dirty dishes sit in the sink overnight so I have time to talk to my husband
people feel more at home in my house when it is a bit chaotic like theirs
God wants to give me good things not just expects good things from me
Living in Florida in February is quite nice
freshly made Krispy Kreme doughnuts are a taste of the heavenly feast
having moments just to be myself with friends makes me appreciate being a mom and wife more

Dear friend I hope you have been learning too.

Learning to call a friend

Just for the record, the phone intimidates me. In person, I can seem to put words together in an effective way to communicate what is going on in my head. Put me on a phone and I become all consonants. Until recently I had to write myself a script to order pizza.

But there are times when face to face meetings with friends are impossible, but yet I feel lonely. I just need another adult voice in the midst of toddler talk. The phone stares at me. When I pick it up to dial a number I begin to think things like ...

- I bet my friend isn't home
- or maybe she is busy
- should I really bother her?
- what if her husband is home and they are having family time?
- or she might finally be having a peaceful moment should I interrupt that?

Many times I regretfully put the phone back on the counter thinking to myself that I'll call another time.

You know what I've realized lately: the worse that can happen is my friend can ask if we can talk later. What a revelation huh? But a freeing one.

As I have begun picking up the phone and actually dialing I've found friends who need to talk, too.

God created us to live in community. He, himself, is a community: Father, Son, and Spirit.

Go ahead and call someone.

Season's of a woman's life

"Women's lives happen in seasons." This phrase from a wise leader at Asbury Seminary rings in my head quite often. The more I ponder it, the more it rings true for me.

Currently I am in the season of young motherhood, which includes rainstorms of tantrum tears, mudslides of dirty laundry, refreshing breezes of children's laughter, and long droughts of tiredness.

At times I think this one will be my favorite, other times I wish for the sunny days of seasons past or to come. I wish for the freedom and spontaneousness of the newly married season. I long for the individuality of the working season. I crave the wisdom of future seasons.

As I have oft been reminded lately -- to live as God intends, I need to live fully in the now. The season I am in now has beauties that won't be repeated. In this season God is planting seeds that will only bear fruit in years to come.

Dear friend as you read this I encourage you to abandon yourself to your present season whatever it may be.

Maybe not perfect days but perfect moments ...

The past few days have been a little rough. The whole family has been sick; the house is a disaster; the bills are piling up; I feel like I've been run over by a truck. I know I am not the only one who has had days or weeks like this.

I have the tendency to put pressure on myself to create a "perfect day" especially during a holiday or when Tom has a day off. No perfect days exist, but perfect moments do.

Last night I experienced one. It had been a hard day, but bedtime was approaching. All four Fuersts were on our bed just being together. We had our quilt tossed over us as a tent. We giggled. We laughed. Phoebe gave everyone kisses. Tommy squealed in excitement. It was 30 minutes of perfection.

Thank you God for perfect moments in the midst of hard days.

Phoebe and Tommy are getting so big ...

Phoebe can now do so many things including ...
Jumping up and down.
Sing twinkle twinkle little star (thanks to grandma)
Open doors.
Put her shoes on.
Eat very successfully with a fork and spoon.
Carry her own bag of stuff into church.
Open skype when my computer is up.
Climb into her car seat.
Climb up and go down slides on her own.
Throw Jet his ball then chase after it herself.
Say please and thank you when she is in the mood.
Set the table (sort of).
Help put laundry in the dryer.
Talk you almost into anything (I think she gets this from her dad.)

Tommy is learning new things too. He can...
Grab things he is aiming for.
Sit supported by a pillow or couch.
Roll over.
Pull himself up with a little help.
Put EVERYTHING in his mouth.
Goo and Gaa.
Laugh the most adorable little laugh.
Follow his sister everywhere with his eyes.
Charm the ladies.

My kids are growing and learning and they are teaching mommy things too.
I am learning that...
a messy house sometimes means happier kids.
stolen moments for yourself are necessary.
running in the yard is a lot of fun.
you can pray for the same person 12 times a day.
peaches and toast make a good lunch.
kisses do cure a lot of ailments.
patience develops through hard moments.
love ever expands.

It will be fun to see how we all grow over the next months.