don't lose heart...

Long days. Really really long days. You know the kind. Sometimes flying solo. The night hours not seeming long enough, rested up enough, or whatever those sleeping hours are supposed to look like again once you're a mom. Prayers for the right heart. The grace. The strength to do it all over again. Feet hit the floor and we're off again. Into the unknown for the day. But never alone.

Fill in the baby book. Weight gained. Milestones met. Snap pictures. Blog about it! We love this boy. He's blond and sensitive to noises and people. Looks just like his daddy. He's big like the others will prove to be as well. 16 pounds at 2 months. My little own special companion. My daily walking buddy with the dog. Just the three of us. Such joy. A first with everything.

Words and prayers spoken over. 17 months. Destiny. Purpose. Specific. 

What seemed plowing through at times. Gearing up for another day seeking any kind of break through. It came and went! Onto the next hurdle. Wisdom and grace for those times. Insight. He's known and created by One. HE has the answers. Pray. Trust. Wait. Watch and be renewed in vision and calling.

Paints and Play-Doh. Toddler beds and potty training. Dad's hair gel found, in his own and slathered on the body. Pictures taken.

PB&J again, and again, and again. Loving these days but will they amount to something more? When?

Siblings to add. Big brother. Family portraits or lack thereof. Day trips. Life. Laughter. Swimming. Not afraid of the wind anymore. Still needing a close view or knowledge of Mom and Dad at all times out of the house. Buckling in and out. Attitude checks. Late again because it was just that important.

School. Books. Reading. Heart issues to address. Show him his need, Oh God! Show me mine.

Fruit along the way. Deep convictions. The kind only HE evokes and a heart of repentance. Seeking. Conversations I know to be Holy Spirit awakenings, others released of the burden and question. My part done. Some not so gracefully. He forgives graciously again and again. I will never know just how HE moved, stirred. But know HE does.

5. Fresh words prayed and spoken over by new vessels. Confirmation of the first. Oh God help us. Help us help him reach that call.

Nightly wrestling matches. T-Rex. Hurt again. Devotions. Many spent just in training. Bedtime prayers. Rituals. One last drink. Potty 'one last time'. Out of bed, again.

Meet our kids now, God. This is tough. Seems dry. Going through the motions, for them. Sometimes me. Keep pressing on. Pray for faith. He moves in Faith.

Snippets of encouragement for the moment, the day. Ones I hold very near and dear to my heart. They strengthen my walk too. Eyes wide taking it all in. My leading of interrupted devotions, with a fussy nursing baby and uncooperative toddler, prove less than anything to be desired. But His Word is alive. Breathes life to those who hear and listen. He's chewing on it for hours after, I can tell.

Piano lessons. Pressure. New things are hard things. Practice. Patience.

Hours turn into days and days turn into weeks and weeks turn into months and we know all that. But now he's 6! and wants to be baptized. The pastor up front has called any others not on the original roster but desiring the chance. He raises his hand. He wants to go, now! We're holding him back. We've talked a little, but not really. Is he ready? Let's make sure.

Opportunity again. Was that just a moment, way back when, caught in the excitement? It's announced. I don't look at him. Does he even remember? I don't ask. I don't coax. Was he even listening? He was. Hanging on.every.word.  

Mom! I want to get baptized!

Done.

Signed up. Counting down the days. Grandparents summoned. Willing to make the small trek. Talks and more conversations. When did he get so old? When did he understand all that? When did faith like a child need to be the only requirement? 

When was God so faithful when I had lost all hope?  

When He said He would be. Always. 

Two evenings ago I, along with many others, watched as Asher and several others professed their belief, need, and trust in God. This God. The one to be true.

I squatted while taking pictures and soaked up every word. Every expression of his little precious face. His excitement. The way I know the water took his breath away, and how he fought back the shaking. My mind was flooded; Somehow we got from there and all of that, to here. And I'm thankful. Thankful that His Word does not return void. Thankful that God is in pursuit of this one just like the rest. Just like me. Just like you. Thankful that this kind of thing can't be forced or fake or recreated. It comes from within, the Holy Spirit moving and preparing in days and times when all I saw was smooshed in Play-Doh, PB&J, and a bad attitude. A long day and a messy house. A dirty house. An empty fridge and that sky high pile of smelly laundry. My own heart and attitude failing. Day after day after day.

New mercies every single morning.

Hearing this, I watched him tread slowly, cautiously down the ramp: Don't lose heart. Don't grow weary in well doing. This is well doing! And it's OK to long for seasons of restored health, and a changed heart, but don't wish away seasons of trials and long days. They produce growth. More than you may know but in ways you also will see and actually taste of! For you. And especially for them. Because I am your God. And I am theirs. I am his. I might move in increments of time you think are too slow, but it's all in My timing and My perfect plan, of which you can trust and even rest in. Truly rest in. 

So I did. 

I rested in Him as I watched Asher confidently and excitedly proclaim his own personal love for this Jesus. 

And I realized again:

That's what those days amount to. This is what those seemingly unproductive days and little though special posts on nothing really, really do add up to.

This!  

A night as special and faith fueling as this.

It was enough for me to keep going. Strong. Weak on my own, but strong in Him. Give it my all. For His glory really. And to see a son grow and thrive in his call and purpose. 

Those days are productive. Our very lives are worth something. Worth sharing. And it's because of Him it is more than an afternoon turned less than ideal. More than a lunch as simple as an old hot dog bun with peanut butter I scraped out of the jar. Thank goodness I'm not living for a picture perfect day or house or kids. Those don't exist! He gives purpose to our messy messy days. Numbered and counted by Him. I am so thankful for that!

July 28, 2013
What a gift!