Contemplating Confession

I was really thankful to think about the freedom of confession this week at the peacewise training.

Confess - meaning to say the same as.

Confession is not dredging up issues that God doesn't know about. It's to agree with God about how I have failed - failed to think or speak of him as is right about him, failed to love others as he desires... It's to agree with the one who made me and knows me and LOVES me already. Knows what I have done, what I will do... knows all the things that make my sin struggles hard, but also knows exactly, with penetrating pin point accuracy, what those sins are. And still loves me.

I think in christian life I can practically live as though confession is to say things that God doesn't already know... or that others don't know, or that others do know but don't understand or have the full picture and so this is scary. Or that somehow God is not really big enough to love me as the more I grasp my sin, the more I am repulsed by it, and therefore I gather more how much God must be repulsed also... but he is more so. And yet, at the same time, he knows it more deeply than I can see, and is disgusted more than I can know, yet loves me.

And forgives.

What a glorious gift he has given us in confession. To be freed from the need to pretend, hold onto reputation, as if pretending and clinging would make it less true. Like a child who hides behind his hands in hide and seek. Yet the child who says he doesn't know how to hide and needs help from parent would of course receive it.

I'm sure in the next year... and probably even in the next day or week, I will struggle again with confession - resist it's liberating invitation - redefine it as a means to condemn myself... because I will again forget that there is no condemnation for those in Christ... and will live again as though I am not in Christ, and wallow in fear of condemnation.

But God does not offer me this option as his child. Of this resistance to his gift of confession I hope he will also convict me, again and again, and free me again  from this voice of condemnation that I play on repeat.

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May I be a parent who breathes this grace into the lives of my children - so they may not, so far as it depends on me - fear the condemnation that comes with Christ-forgetting repentance.

Preparing to move

For 21 months we have lived in a 2 bedroom unit with an expanding family and more building issues than we planned on.

Looking at moving in 2 sleeps I am thankful. 

for a space...

of safety

comfort

hospitality

labouring

birth

rearranging

growing

changing

resting

stretching

discipline of organising

of learning about mould and how to avoid it

naturally insulated

meeting neighbours

learning about VCAT

sharing

nesting

It is sad to move, despite the challenges I have faced here. And they have been varied. I think that indicates what a privilege it has been to live in this space. I am thankful that the sad shows the thankful.

Thank-you, provider, sustainer, my creator God. Thank-you that you knew before I did what I would learn here, and you knew how long we would be here. Thank-you that you go before us to our new place.

We are moving in with another family with 2 little children. Our new house comes with a yard! And natural light. Lots and lots of it. And 6 bedrooms. And living spaces to accomodate private spaces for more hospitality that we could ever do.

I am looking forward to...

sharing spaces

deepening relationships

knowing Jesus more through seeing Him work in us

not needing a light switch

fig trees

olive trees

filling our guest room with guests

craft in a room with a door

toddler running up and down the hall

growing 

praying together

kids playing together

the challenge of more kids not playing together

water play in the yard

This is a special season of community life. I'm excited.

love it. laughed so hard I cried.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/glennon-melton/dont-carpe-diem_b_1206346.html

One of those days

Today was one of those days.

The kind where getting out the door became an ever receding hurdle to jump.

The kind where I got milk sick between my toes, down my pants, and pooled on the floor.

The kind where my toddler squeezed his pureed snack pouch all over himself when I was paying attention to feeding my baby for the critical moment.

The kind where I decided I was superhuman and could mind my feisty toddler niece whilst looking after my own two bundles of joy, but the toddler-friendly enclosed easy to manage it all play centre was closed, and the subsitute park was overfull with primary school children (read here: niece wants to go on roundabout with the older children, niece wants to push roundabout like the older children, niece wants to walk on and off roundabout like the older children, all whilst it is moving faster than she is able and all during the time I am attempting to breastfeed my baby and my toddler is covering himself with savoury puree).

The kind where getting 3 nappies changed seems to take a ridiculous amount of time, and once all is done I realise showing the toddlers where the little stream is in the park was not best done right before said changes.

The kind where one kid cries and sets the other two off.

The kind where one kid goes to sleep and is abruptly woken by screaming.

The kind where it's hard to know which parenting tool to use to deal with the 35th growl/scream/hit/bite/grab.

The kind where getting to the end of the day is bliss. To sit on the couch, uninterrupted, dishwasher whirring... bliss.

I have incredible respect for my mother, and all the mothers I know who have kept showing patience on days like this.

Days like this. When the baby has just woken again...

God give me more of what only you can give.

End of a year

It's New Year's Eve.

Much of the city is out partying (I suspect). At least much of our apartment block. But with 2 under 2 we are home, and L has gone to bed. I don't think my babies understand that tomorrow is a good day to sleep in.

So I'm having a rare moment of peace to reflect, and am reflecting on the year past.

Wrote some questions...

- What have been the highlights from 2011?

giving birth to LL is definitely one of the biggest highlights. It is with great delight that I think about the whole event: labour, birth, the early days with a new external member of our family. What a privilege.

- What have been some significant relationships in 2011?

my wonderful mum's group has been one source of great conversation and journeying. It's been very special to share in the lives of these women as their babies grow into toddlers.

- What challenges have been part of 2011?

It's been a year of constant effort. One child goes to sleep, the other needs attention. Sometimes (often) both need me at once. It's felt hard to have much time for much else, unless it's mixed into a multi-tasking effort. L and I are weary, and have had great patches of connecting, but also many times where it's harder to say much beyond the business transactions of who's cooking dinner and which child needs a new nappy.

Living as 4 in a unit is also a challenge, with it's good points (learning the discipline of culling our stuff, for example!). But it's been hard fitting in an ever increasingly active toddler, a baby with all the add ons, and then having a spare surface to do something I find relaxing like sewing (oh and the overhead of getting out the machine knowing it needs to go back before the toddler wakes!). It's been a joy to host people even when we feel pressed for space though.

- What am I thankful for from 2011?

My husband who listens very well and patiently (when we catch pockets of time!)
E, who is growing and developing at a remarkable rate. He's learning so much so fast and makes me laugh often.
Meeting LL and watching E and LL enjoy each other
The people who have asked me tough questions.
The people who gave us meals, gifts, cards and various other sorts of love before and after LL was born.
God's faithfulness and sovereignty through some personal and wider challenges.
The privilege of good health.
C.S. Lewis and his book 'Screwtape Letters'.
People who have thought hard about babies and sleeping and written books about how to help it happen.
The people who have asked me spontaneously how I'm going and have meant it.
Models of perseverence and grace.
The simple delight of sitting down to think.
Slings and wraps for carrying babies that have revolutionised my capacity to care for 2 little ones especially in the newborn days.
The people who L works with.
Sara Groves and Colin Buchanan.
Visits with my great grandfather, including singing songs with him that he sang as a young adult.
Friends are still alive.
Marriages are still intact.


There's a few thoughts.

Anyone else doing any reflecting at the end of this year?

Thinking about advent and Christmas and children

Stumbled across this site... interesting...

http://www.stnicholascenter.org/pages/home/

Why meals are such great gifts for families with new babies

We've been given a lovely supply of meals since Lily's arrival, and it's been such a wonderful blessing. It's such a great gift that I thought I'd blog about it.

It's a gift of food.

• to state the obvious. It sustains us literally.

It's a gift of time.

• It means we don't need to choose a dish, write a list of ingredients, go shopping, decide on brands, unpack shopping, prepare ingredients, cook the meal, clean the pots and put everything away. Instead we can heat something up between a feed and nappy change, eat it at a reasonable hour, and spend energy on toddler & bub (=less crying and more loving feelings all round!). In the first weeks of a new bub the tasks listed above can be rather overwhelming, and it's so so wonderful to not even think about cooking and be able to focus.

It's a gift of an idea.

• Many meals we received are things we've never cooked, but gee it'd be good to repeat some of the dishes when we have more time for creative cooking!

It's a gift of hands.

• Especially with 2 kids, even when one is happy to be worn, 2 hands are not quite enough to go around at dinner time (and particularly just before dinner time!). But heating up a meal and dishing it out can be done almost one handed, or with minimal meltdown times because hands are available for cuddles and pats so much more than if they were cooking.

So thank-you, if you have cooked for us. It's made a great deal of difference to getting used to being 4 in our family.

And if you know someone having a baby soon and you want to support them, consider a culinary gift...

Researching

Been doing some online reading about labour, inductions, epidurals and such.

Some interesting articles... including:

http://www.sarahbuckley.com/epidurals-risks-and-concerns-for-mother-and-baby/

http://www.bellybelly.com.au/birth/induction-of-labour-to-induce-or-not-induce

http://www.sarahbuckley.com/pain-in-labour-your-hormones-are-your-helpers/

http://www.sarahbuckley.com/leaving-well-alone-a-natural-approach-to-the-third-stage-of-labour/

Bus comparison

I just caught the bus. Other than me - obviously pregnant with a laden pram and sleeping baby, the other travellers were basically all elderly men.

The bus driver swapped for a new one at one of the stops. The new driver proved to be very curt to an elderly gentleman who was a bit confused about how buses work. He treated him with some disdain and what I would consider disrespect, had he spoken to me thus.

I sat wondering how I could say something to the driver... thoughts like 'are you always rude to the older men on buses or just the cute ones?' that really weren't going to go anywhere except around my head.

Then it was time to get off. I was the sole exiter, and to accomodate me, the driver leaned out of his seat to address me, asked me 'would you like a hand with the pram love?', gave me assorted affirming comments possibly verging on a flirting attempt when I proved able to manage alone, and farewelled me with various warm phrases before the door closed and he pulled away.

I don't mind at all that a driver recognises the challenge of having a pram on a bus. In fact, had I not seen his earlier behaviour I would have thought he was one of the friendliest and most accomodating drivers towards a young mum. But I felt uncomfortable receiving this treatment, because there was such a marked contrast.

Where is the bus driver who waits for the old nona to sit down before he moves off. Where is the bus driver who treats the man with a walking stick as a person, not a hindrance.

This one will get my respect.

A baby's guide to eating broccoli

Step 1: look at piece of broccoli on highchair tray with suspicion.

Step 2: poke it

Step 3: pick it up and do a few trips towards the mouth, not quite getting it in.

Step 4: put it back on highchair tray.

Step 5: pick it up again and smash it on the tray.

Step 6: smear it on the tray.

Step 7: Chew a corner of it for a little while.

Step 8: Smash it again, and pull it apart so there are little pieces in a pile on the tray.

Step 9: Randomly wave hands around, so that some pieces fall on the floor.

Step 10: Pick up a piece in each hand, wave them around, then put one in the mouth.

Step 11: If still hungry, repeat steps 2 to 10 a few times.

Step 12: when no longer hungry, systematically 'clean' highchair tray with a remaining piece, or drop each piece - as pincer grip skills allow - on the floor and have a look to see what they do there.

Step 13: be placed, fully clothed, in bath.

Discontented day

Today's a discontented sort of day.

A mouldy walls are overwhelming sort of day.

An I want to throw lots of things away sort of day.

A sick of mess and dust sort of day.

A struggling to be content at home with a baby trapped feeling sort of a day.

A feeling tired despite a long sleep sort of day.

A needing to hold on to the one who gives me new perspectives but finding it hard sort of day.

Hope tomorrow will be a new sort of day.

formal family

at the cross cultures formal dinner on 30/10/2010.

The role of the mother...

'For much of human history babies needed to stay close to their mother to feed, stay warm and be kept safe from a range of predators, such as wolves, bears, eagles and crocodiles. The extreme vulnerability of babies meant that they simply did not get left alone. Ever! Unless, that is, their parents meant them to die. As Sarah Blaffer Hardy one of the world's leading social scientists, put it:

For more than thirty-five million years, primate infants stayed safe by remaining close to their mothers day and night. To lose touch was death. This explains why, even today, separation from a familiar caretaker provokes first unease, then desperation, followed by rage and finally despair.'

(quote taken from 'helping your baby to sleep', Gethin and Macgregor.)

Found this quite an interesting point. It taps in to one of my personal challenges - when to leave a baby alone today. In the cot when awake? Under a floor gym while I do some chores? Asleep somewhere?

How much do I try to make my baby conform to my lifestyle (of getting meals made, washing done, friends visited, shower had etc) and because I'm doing what the busy world demands of me, he gets put here, placed there, installed in pram, cot, carseat so I can go on doing what is so important with as much ease as possible?

When do I stop to ask if these things are necessary, now, or at all... when should my lifestyle actually change for a season to cater for being more present with this little one who will not be present with me for that long a time?

I have a romantic longing to live in community, where mothers can do their washing together, holding each other's babies and teaching older kids how to play baby games. I have this longing particularly on nights when Luke is out and every time I put Ezra down he wants my attention.

It feels rather un-heroic to not be shielding Ezra from crocodiles, the TV tells me I'm to shield him from germs and poor eating habits.

Ezra says hello

a little message from ezra to his new long-distance friend caleb in washington DC.

the glory of being a mum

the contrast of life and death.
ezra smiling in the melbourne
cemetary. this gives us some
perspective on the fragility, the
preciousness of having a child.

let me tell you the reasons why i think being a mum is a wonderful, privileged thing that is awe-inspiring and honourable.

one of the things that has surprised me since ezra's birth is seeing jane being a mum. now that doesn't sound very amazing, but just step back a minute and think of this. when i married jane, yes, i had a pretty good idea of who she was, her background, her passions, even her ability to connect with people and love them in a costly way. but i had never seen her with her own baby, or even really with anyone else's baby very much. there was this whole side of her that i had no idea about.

then, when ezra was born -- BAM! -- suddenly this whole amazing side of jane's personality sprung into being. one moment she's straining under the pressure of bringing ezra into the world, the next moment she's holding him so gently in her arms looking into his eyes. the next moment she is feeding him with nourishment that only she can provide. nourishment that is costly. (feeing ezra robs her of sleep, it saps her physical energy, it makes her thirsty and hungry, it's socially awkward in some places, it's the reason for leaking, you need special clothes, etc.) but jane embraced all this in order to love ezra.

what i'm saying is this -- one of the most joyful and special aspects of becoming a father has been simply seeing this new caring-mother side of jane emerge out into the light. these qualities lay dormant in her -- probably grown and watered from a very young age, with the godly influence of women around her like her own mum. but it wasn't until she actually had a child of her own that the glory and honour of caring so 100% for another helpless and tiny human being could actually be seen.

and i see these qualities more than anyone else! there is no one else around at 3am -- except us three -- when ezra wakes up, hungry and thirsty and needing a nappy change. when i see jane rub her eyes with fatigue because she's just been up between 11:30pm and 1:30am feeding him and helping him settle again. nobody else sees her head slouching forward, her eyes closing again with tiredness as ezra feeds, at first ferociously, but then slowing down gradually until he's finally only making the occasional lightweight suck while actually being asleep. this is my privilege -- the incredible awesome sight of such love, such dedication, such devotion to another human's wellbeing at personal cost.

at times being a mum can be isolating, lonely and incredibly restrictive -- or at least that's how it can feel. but being a mother carries such glory, such responsibility, such honour, such privilege.

jane will be one of the most influential people in little ezra's life. what an awesome task - filled with the potential for such joy (and sorrow). i have already seen in his first 3 months the powerfully positive influence of jane on ezra. nobody who's met him has missed his smile (unless, of course, he's been sleeping). where does his smile come from? well, jane is always smiling at him, saying kind and gentle words to him, showing him the world from a safe embrace. this smiling, this contentedness is a product of the way she is moulding him and shaping him into being a little boy who loves life!

and ezra's becoming quite a talker! he expresses himself through proto-words and sounds. we struggle to grasp what he's meaning, but we can get it most of the time. this expressiveness, this ability and comfort with saying it like it is -- this comes from watching and interacting with his mum. what a wonderful gift she is giving to him -- the freedom to express his emotions through words and body language. so many young (and older) men today are hamstrung by the inability to either (a) understand what they're feeling, or (b) express it. how many marriages suffer because "he just won't talk!"? i think the influence of this godly mother will be a blessing to any future relationship ezra will have.

so many women yearn for a child -- whether they are married or not. so many women desperately want to have "a child of my own." but they cannot. either their life situation has not permitted it, or there is some preventing issue biologically. with this in mind, what a wonderful privilege it is indeed to be a wife and a mother! what a joy that this little child has been born into a secure covenant of marriage where mother and father are both present, both interested in parenting, both committed to the wellbeing of each other and their son, both with eyes focused on christ jesus. jane is a pillar in this family -- a tower of strength sustained by god. (how sad it was to see that single father on TV whose girlfriend left him shortly after their daughter's birth! what a void she left!).

jane, simply by her faithfulness, her constant presence in ezra's life, her love for me -- by these things she is an integral part of sustaining this secure and safe environment for ezra to grow up in. this is something only she can do.

yet another glorious and honourable thing that jane does as mum is to look after ezra in order to free me to serve others. this enabling ministry, this giving-so-that-others-can-give is so strategic, but so unseen, so hidden. who sees jane when i'm at cross cultures interacting with international students about the gospel of jesus? nobody. who sees jane when i'm meeting one-on-one with a student at melbourne univeristy? nobody. who sees the cost of hours with a crying or hungry or pooey baby when i'm running a bible study? nobody. but it's because of those hours and that patience and that self-giving that i can do those things. that is noble. that is honourable.

in fact, that "hiddenness" is in many ways more admirable than any up-front or public ministry. wasn't it jesus in matthew 6 who commended secrecy as something that our heavenly father smiles upon and values? "Then your Father, who sees what is done in secret, will reward you." a lot of being a mum is done in secret. behind closed doors. in the dead of night. others do not see, but our heavenly father sees the love that jane is pouring out for ezra and for me.

let me reflect a bit more on noble character.

a wife of noble character who can find? she is worth far more than rubies. her husband has full confidence in her and lacks nothing of value.

"full confidence" -- when i think about this, it's actually true. when have i walked out of the house or away from jane and ezra worried about ezra? i have never yet had the thought that jane is somehow inadequate for ezra to provide for him. i have full confidence in her. i have 0% anxiety about his needs being met while in her care.

she selects wool and flax and works eagerly with her hands... she sets about her work vigorously; her arms are strong for her tasks... in her hand she holds the distaff and grasps the spindle with her fingers.

this woman, and this mum, are industrious. months before ezra was born jane set out to make cloth nappies. now, it's a challenge enough just to use cloth nappies, but she was committed to making her own! you have no idea how much effort is involved -- from selecting the pattern; trying out various ones to make sure you know what you're doing; selecting and ordering the fabrics, clips, liners, inserts online; vigorously cutting out the patterns; fighting with the sewing machine with eager hands and fingers to join fabrics of different elasticity; clipping the snaps on with strong arms. wow! and all this effort in order to be more friendly to the earth and more economical!

she gets up while it is still dark; she provides food for her family and portions for her servant girls.

"she provides food for her family"! -- that's exactly what jane's doing at 11:00pm, 1:30am, 3:00am, 7:00am -- and all through the day. and in the dark -- when most others are sleeping and being rejuvenated. she is rejuvenating her son at personal cost to herself. that is noble!!

she watches over the affairs of her household and does not eat the bread of idleness. her children arise and call her blessed; her husband also and he praises her.

ezra will do this. he will call her blessed. he will come to recognise what his mother has done for him. he will understand something of the cost of being a mum, and he will be thankful. and not only ezra, but i too call her blessed and praise her. the qualities that i am seeing in her motherhood are noble, honourable, a delight to behold.

and on top of all this is the joy that jane herself takes in being a mum! when i see her smile at ezra, or talk gently to him, or play with him, or bath him, or gently feed him -- these are precious mental photos that i am storing in my mind.

many women do noble things, but you surpass them all.

smiling with delight!

Surprised by love... and selfishness

It takes me by surprise how much I love Ezra. He doesn't do anything to earn it, in fact he reduces my sleep, is the source of sore nipples, weighs on my arms so my shoulders and back can ache, he creates incredible smells and wees on himself, through endless clothes that I must wash. He doesn't talk to me, only looks at me every now and then, never kisses or consciously cuddles me, he doesn't buy me gifts.

But there's a deep, deep ache that I can't quite sense the bottom of, an ache of 'you dare to harm him and I will harm you', an ache of 'I will get up again, and again, in the middle of the night to calm you', and ache of 'may his life be long, God, may he outlive us', an ache of anxiety, 'he's so helpless and small, will he really keep breathing when I'm not in the room?'

I was expecting some sort of love for him, I'd heard parents talk of 'bonding', but it hits me deeper and harder, more earthily, than I'd known I was capable of.

And then when he actually does something cute - a smile, a coo... then the level of love is overwhelming!

All this love shows up how selfish I am, actually.

Having this deep ache for him doesn't result in immediate action and consistent action. My bed is warm, my eyes are heavy, my husband could go this time, couldn't he? I just changed him, can't he stay in his filth? I don't want to feed him here, again, can't he stay hungry?

Ezra becomes a task rather than a person, an annoyance encroaching on my time and comfort, a bargaining chip in place of cooking tea. My husband becomes my ticket to laziness.

What a contrast...
Jesus endured sleeplessness, backache, arm ache, suffocation ache, heart ache. Yet we remained people worth dying for in his eyes.
Now there's love in action.

friends with ezra?

am i friends with my 8 week-old son, ezra?
can a father be friends with his son?
if so, and i'm not his friend now, when will he (or can he) become my friend?

kara martin says, "those who have the same opinion, the same will about spiritual and earthly matters, along with mutual generosity, love and service, have... reached the heights of friendship." and aelred said that "friendship... ought to begin in christ, continue in christ and be perfected in christ."

those are weighty (and impossible) things to be said of an infant who cannot speak or understand such abstract concepts as "mutual generosity, love and service" not to mention christ jesus himself and the story of god's rescue of humanity.

how then can i be friends with my son? or when can i be his friend?

(of course this has implications for so-called friendships between children, or where one party is a child.)

quite apart from the inability to understand abstract concepts, my little ezra is not my equal. of course he is my equal in terms of human worth and value as a person. that i will defend of any human being, however young, born or unborn. but i am his father -- he is not my father. in our family he will obey me -- not i him. the bible commands him to honour me. does this difference in role within our family preclude a spiritual or true friendship? providentially, ezra has found himself (once he becomes aware of it) within a family structure where he is not the boss. he has found himself the fruit of the covenant of marriage -- the very tangible outcome of the most intimate of friendships -- that between a husband and wife. he is the product of a friendship.

what does that say about friendship within covenants (whether family, marriage or with god himself)? martin says, "the distinguishing mark of philia was reciprocal goodwill and affection. in that way it is a responsive love; but the response is voluntary, not mandatory." but the honour (and love?) that is commanded of ezra toward me is not voluntary -- it is mandatory. and, at a more profound theological level, my love for god is also commanded and required. i am obligated to god to love him. i owe him that, since he made me and he commands it.

does that mean ezra can never truly love me as a friend since he is born into this structure of obligation and command?

my experience of my own sonship, and from what little i understand of spiritual or true friendship, is that it is possible. but like anything between a father and a son, it takes time to develop. this has come as i have matured from being a child to become and adult.

i would like to think that ezra and i can be friends.
true spiritual friends.
friends in christ.

listening

"listen, my son, to your father's instruction and do not forsake your mother's teaching.
they will be a garland to grace your head and a chain to adorn your neck." proverbs 1.8-9

it seems that in listening we become beautiful. or, more precisely, in listening to (ie, taking on, treating as important, respecting) "your father's instruction" and "your mother's teaching", these very instruction and teaching will the things that adorn us. it's not that we are beautiful because we listen, but it's the "wearing" of these words from our parents that is beautiful.

Ezra's beautiful brain

Ezra's crazy eyes excited to be in an MRI scan!
And here's Ezra's beautiful brain.