what's mine is yours, and what's yours is yours

When O was just a bitty baby, we were spending time with some good friends and my eyes were opened to parenting gold. My friend's little boy didn't want to share his cozy-coupe [which, for the record, was pretty awesome and painted like a police car] with his friend. He was struggling, and seriously distressed at the thought of letting another kid, even his good friend, have complete control of something that was so precious to him. His Momma stopped him, and simply asked, "Hey Buddy, who does that car belong to?" He hesitated a bit, looked up with his killer super-sad-eyes, and said,

"It belongs to God."

His Momma said, "That's right. If it belongs to God, then why do you have it?" He blinked his ridiculously long eyelashes a couple times and softly said,

"Because He's chosen to bless me with it."

His Momma said, "That's right. And what does that mean that you can do with it?" He twisted the toe of his shoe in the dirt and said, "Bless others as God has blessed me."

His Momma said, "That's right. So what are you going to choose to do right now?" He said,

"I'm going to bless my friend by sharing,

like God has shared with me."

BAM. That kid has a more mature perspective already [at the ripe old age of 4] than most adults I know. I resolved then and there to impart the same wisdom to my kids as best as I could.

Now, I want my kids to grasp that truth because it'll make them better people, and they'll be nicer and selfless and all of those great things... but more than that, WAY more than that, I want them to grasp that truth so that as they grow up and hopefully choose to be in relationship with the Lord, they won't struggle so much with idols as most of us do.

When we grow up understanding that nothing is truly ours, we don't cling to "our" things like that kitten in that motivational [or is it?] poster who's dangling from that rope. We can give, and let go, freely.

[[photo source]]

Right now James and I are studying the book of Jeremiah with our homegroup. Over and over again, we see God saving the Israelites, creating opportunities for relationship with them, and being rejected by them and replaced with idols. Our group leader, keeps asking us, "What are your idols?" What are we clinging to, relying on, replacing God with, and upholding as more important than Him?

James and I have always understood that what's ours isn't ours. Our money, our home, even our kids. It's not always fun to think about, but when I remember God's promises, and His goodness, I'm assured that He can do much more, and much better things, with "my" things, kids, money than I can. I rest in that.

BUT...

I never considered my time. It's like a newfound dimension for me in terms of what isn't mine. I've always [for the past 10 years] understood that my every breath, each day, my life in general was His and not mine... but somehow that didn't translate into my every moment. It hit me like a brick [I'm assuming here because I've never really been hit with a brick].

Time. Is. An. Idol.

God isn't limited by time. It's something that we deal with that He just doesn't. He works within time, He reaches into it, it's all His... but it's a created thing that He isn't bound by. He numbered my days before I existed [psalm 139.16 & psalm 39]. My time isn't mine. Just like our money, our things, our kids, our bodies. Every moment I have belongs to Him and, how little attention I pay to how He might want me to use it! I do what I want, consider my time to be mine, and am generally frustrated when it gets "taken" from me.

Spending three hours on the phone two weeks ago with AT&T trying to get our internet turned back on, and our account set right was frustrating. Waiting for my pitiful PC to do it's job compared to my Mac is like torture. Not getting to spend time with my husband because of his work, school, etc. feels like robbery.

The hard truth is though, I'm the robber.

Truly abiding in the Lord, being in His presence every moment, is what He asks us to do with our time. How much less frustrated would I be if I quit viewing time as mine, and instead saw it as God's? Would being put on hold be frustrating? Would waiting an hour at the doctor's office really matter? Would sitting through a red light twice make my blood pressure rise? Those moments aren't mine, but are a gift to me and a responsibility I'm entrusted to handle with love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, faithfulness, and self-control [which means NOT cursing at my pitifully slow PC or throwing it at the wall].

Truly abiding in the Lord, sitting in, loving His presence every moment, is what He asks us to do with our time. When we do that, He guides our steps and makes our time...His time... count.

AT&T doesn't service the afterlife

Sometimes I sit down after putting my kids in their beds for nap, and I just sit. It's incredible. You people with hobbies, and out-of-the-home jobs, and regular uninterrupted bathroom breaks probably think that sounds crazy... but I sit.

Sometimes I pray. Sometimes I doze for a few. Sometimes I make lists in my head. Sometimes something monumental hits me and it hijacks my peaceful sitting. Today was one of those days.

I looked around at the pictures of my family and I was both comforted and terrified at the same time. I saw the wonderful, magazine-like, unrealistically beautiful photos of my kids and my husband and myself that are plastered all over my home thanks to Matt & Ivy Photography [who we totally lucked out in befriending before they were the best photographers ever in the whole world].

[[see? they're the best.]]

It made me grateful for what I've been blessed with, and made me regret how much I'm letting slide. I'm not talking about birthday parties, or zoo trips, or even general responsibilities. I can let that stuff slide without a second thought... which probably isn't a good thing. I'm talking about memories.

Not a day goes by that I don't miss my mom. I lost her to cancer when I was 14. Being a mom has made me miss my mom on a whole new level. I get the urge to call her. Call her. She's dead. AT&T doesn't service that area of reality. I want to show her outfits I'm working on for my kids. I want to ask her how she felt when I did the things my kids do now.

[[my mom holding a screaming me at my christening]]

The good thing is, my missing her has made me determined to be more intentional about a lot of things for my kids. The thought of losing my kids is just as terrifying for me as I'm sure it is for any mom, but I'm gonna bet the idea of having to leave my kids behind is very different for me than it is for you who didn't lose your parents until you were adults, or those who still have them [call them... now. stop reading this and tell them you love them, even if it's hard because they're crummy parents or something. ask a question you've never asked them before. ask for a new photo of them. do it now and thank me later.]. I'm afraid to leave my kids, not just because I'll miss out on their lives, but because I know how they'll miss me being in theirs. So, I'm determined to do some things that take a little extra work. Things like...

• take pictures of myself -even when I look awful...

[[like this one taken right after the first time Eliza took a shower instead of a bath.

I'm not doing myself any favors here, but she's so excited!]]

• be IN our home videos [not always behind the camera]

• not be afraid to talk when I'm holding the video camera even though it's loud and awkward [I miss my mom's voice and have one home video where she speaks for like 3.7 seconds]

• back up photos and videos and store them outside of the house [safety deposit box, aunt-so-in-so's house, etc.]

• talk to my kids about what I think, believe, value, etc. so they know and don't wonder [I don't know much about what my mom really believed about a lot of things, or how she felt about certain things because we just never went there together when I was young]

• say things to them over and over that they'll remember came from me

• make things for them [we all keep our kids' flimsy mother's day presents to us, handprints, etc. but do we need them? it's less likely that those things will be around longer than them than it is that I'll be around longer than my gifts to them-- read that again if it didn't sink in]

• write down things about them, and experiences they'll forget [not a baby book of their weight, words, etc. but more like how I felt about them at times. what I wanted for them. where their nicknames can from, even awkward things like how long I nursed each of them because they may want to know some day]

Really, I think I'm doing a pretty poor job of all of those things, but I know that even the littlest bit of them will bring loads of comfort, answers, peace, etc. in the event that I'm not an old lady who gets to be a doting Gran someday.

Have you felt that loss? Has it sparked something in you? How are you leaving yourself behind for your family?