Tag Archives: children

Kids are Disgusting

I have an 18-month-old little boy.  BT is full of life, curiosity, love, and stubbornness.  He’s my joy, my challenge, my daily workout, and my constant reminder that God’s love is never-ending.

Due to our wacko work schedules, I am able to be with him nearly every weekday morning until around noon.  I love my Mr. Mom time with him, but it does mean that I get to experience the gross side, which many Dads may not ever see.

I was changing his diaper this morning.

Yes.  A poop diaper.

He had eaten two waffles and most of his Momma’s oatmeal, which had explosive results.

So there I was, already stressed out, before I even took his diaper off.  Why?  Because I’m a weak little man?  No.  Stressed because this child INSISTS on shoving his hands into his poop.  It drives me crazy.  Seriously…it’s so gross!  We went thru the regular ritual of me taking off his diaper with one hand, while holding his hands back with the other, but he broke away (like he always does), and in .5 seconds, he had brown fingers.  What’s worse?  A second after that, he had a brown face.  Frustrated doesn’t even cover it.  I have warned him and clearly shouted “NO!” a thousand times….argh!

Here’s the deal: Mr. Poopface doesn’t only like to play in his butt gravy, but he also shoves his finger up his snotty little nose.  His Momma says they should make a patent on his snot, because it is so sticky they could likely repair military jets with it.

Poop and snot…and then there’s drool.  Why are kids so nasty?!  He is still waiting on one final bottom tooth to come in, which makes him drool like the dog from “The Sandlot”.  Remember that dog?  Gag me with a spoon.

What’s my point?

It’s this: BT is my little boy, my joy…and even though kids really are disgusting, he’s mine.  He’s sometimes filthy, sticky, and smelly, but he’s all mine.  When I look into his eyes, I see myself.  He’s not a carbon copy, but he is obviously mine.  BT has many of my characteristics, and he is fully dependent on me to provide for his every need.  When he finally slows down for the day and comes walking up to me with both arms up, saying, “Da-ty”, all I want to do is scoop him up and snuggle with him until we fall asleep.  I love him: snot and all.

And yes, our Father feels the same way about us.  Sometimes our behavior stinks, our attitude is disgusting, and the grace we show to others is a “sticky situation”, but our Abba still looks at us, waiting for the moment when we turn to him and ask to be held.

Grace is messy,

Steve

It Matters

A reminder from my little one.

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1 If I speak with human eloquence and angelic ecstasy but don’t love, I’m nothing but the creaking of a rusty gate.
2If I speak God’s Word with power, revealing all his mysteries and making everything plain as day, and if I have faith that says to a mountain, “Jump,” and it jumps, but I don’t love, I’m nothing.
3-7If I give everything I own to the poor and even go to the stake to be burned as a martyr, but I don’t love, I’ve gotten nowhere. So, no matter what I say, what I believe, and what I do, I’m bankrupt without love….
13 But for right now, until that completeness, we have three things to do to lead us toward that consummation: Trust steadily in God, hope unswervingly, love extravagantly. And the best of the three is love. 1 Corinthians 13:1-7, 10 MSG
Oh yeah. It matters about love.

ATTIC,
gigi

Grace for the Horn-Honkers

I had just left a meeting at Children’s Hospital and was walking across the parking deck. The place was packed. The concrete citadel was loaded with automobiles plus hurried and worried people and I had previously struggled with a place to park.

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I was weaving through the maze of cars and traffic, trying to remember where I had parked (just ask Gigi…that is always an adventure), when out-of-the-blue, a man zipped up behind me in his little black Beemer and blared down on his horn.

To say that I was startled would be inadequate. He nearly scared my lunch back out of me. (Yep, I went there.)

The horn’s honk resounded throughout the concrete walls and pillars, and I felt like I would have a stroke. It’s not like I was some 90-year-old, barely shuffling to my parking space…I am not yet 30 and was moving at a reasonable pace.

I was shocked, scared, stroking-out, and ANGRY.

Can I say that I was pissed? Well, I was pissed.

WHAT IN THE WORLD WAS HE THINKING?! WHO DID HE THINK HE WAS?! Whether I had taken two seconds or three seconds to pass in front of his vehicle really made no difference…but apparently it did to him. He was beyond impatient and I was more than aggravated. I had a few words I wanted to share with the gentleman, and I wanted to teach him some sign language as well. (I do know quite a few signs that would have fit this scenario quite well.)

And then there’s Grace.

Grace for the impatient businessman. Or was it Grace for the father, hurrying to see his little girl before surgery? I will never know, but he deserves Grace for his erratic behavior, just like I deserved Grace for hurriedly weaving through traffic to make it to that same assignment on time.

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The same Grace that has always been afforded to me, is afforded to every impatient so-and-so that drives us all crazy at 5 o’clock and that Grace calls us all to freely give away what we have been given.

We must pray for patience and Grace to deal with all we come in contact with, every moment of every day, with the very same Love that was poured out for us all those years ago. We may not know their stories, but rest assured that each person we meet has a story.

There is Grace for the horn-honkers of the world and, thankfully, there is Grace for you and me.

ATTIC,
Steve

Matthew 5:14-16 “You are the light of the world. A town built on a hill cannot be hidden. Neither do people light a lamp and put it under a bowl. Instead they put it on its stand, and it gives light to everyone in the house. In the same way, let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father in heaven.

Like Little Children

This summer there was a tragedy in our community. A boy and his step-father were killed while vacationing. The step-father died immediately, the 14 year old died a few days later. It was a bizarre and confounding turn of events that lead to these unexpected and tragic deaths.

I was sitting at the kitchen table with my six year old and my mother. I was reading the news article aloud to my mom, adding information that my big girl had told me. She and the young man were in the same grade at school.

My heart was aching for the momma. My mind was trying to grasp the unbelievable situation- the odds for this kind of tragic accident are surely miniscule. My spirit was wondering what could be God’s purpose for this.

My little one said “Is the daddy ok?”

I didn’t look up from the article. “No baby. He died.”

Aching. Questioning. Grieving.

“Is he still there?” she asked.

I still didn’t look up. She is a curious one and I am accustomed to her many unique questions. My heart was so heavy with sadness for this momma, my mind in shock at the strangeness of the events, “if only….if only…” were the words spiraling through my thoughts.

“No baby. He is in heaven.” I said with aching in my voice.

CLAP! CLAP! CLAP! “YAY!!!” she squealed with delight.

My eyes tore away from the article. I glared at my smiling child in total disbelief. Absolute shock. Her toothless grin covered her face and her eyes sparkled. How could you?! I drew in my breath to begin to chastise her about being so inconsiderate, so inappropriate, so ill-mannered- when a voice stopped me cold. I heard in my mind “The faith of a child.”

The faith of a child. The faith of my child that is greater than my own. The faith of a child who rejoices with squeals and clapping at the news of someone going to heaven.

Have I hardened? Have I forgotten? Is it part of being a grown-up? The adults in the bible struggled with it too.

Luke 18 16 But Jesus called the children to him and said, “Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these.17 Truly I tell you, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.”

In Matthew 18 Jesus said 2 He called a little child to him, and placed the child among them.3 And he said: “Truly I tell you, unless you change and become like little children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven.

Sweet Jesus, Let me not miss the lessons of child-like faith from my girls. Help me to see you in the same way that they do. Let me truly rejoice at the knowledge of someone going to live in eternity with you. Let me believe with my heart and look forward with great anticipation to the day I see your face. And when that time comes, even if my girls have become adults, may they smile big and rejoice. Amen.

ATTIC,

gigi

Thanks

The little one and I crashed the youth ice skating outing. Six-year-old Lilli felt like a big kid hanging with her sissy and the other youth at dinner. At the rink, she and I stayed close to the wall as we figured out how to best balance on the ice. After a bit, we got the hang of it (sorta), and we skated and chatted.

Chats with Lilli are always fun.

“What’s under the ice?” “What makes these marks in the ice?” “What are the colored lines for? Oh- hockey!” “Why do they have these walls?” “There must be a cold heater to keep the ice frozen.”

Then she looked up at me and said “I am glad Steve invited us.” “You should tell him.” I smiled.

When we made it around to the opening in the wall where some youth were chatting, Lilli stopped and said to Steve, “Thank you for inviting me.” She smiled her big toothless grin. He looked at me and asked “Did you tell her to say that?” “Nope. She said it on her own.” He hugged her big, scooping her up off the floor. She squealed.

Steve asked if I told her to say thanks. He wanted to know if this was manners practice. It wasn’t. Lilli was genuinely thankful to be at the skating rink. I just encouraged her to let Steve know. And when she did, he was touched by her sweetness.

The apostle Paul did the same thing when he wrote a letter to the church in Ephesus. He said ” I couldn’t stop thanking God for you- every time I prayed, I’d think of you and give thanks.” (Ephesians 1:16 MSG) Paul let the people in the church know he was truly thankful for them and went on to tell of the other things he had been praying for them as well.

How easy is it to tell someone an authentic thank you? It has a wonderful impact- on the one hearing the thanks and the one saying thanks. What or who are you thankful for today? Let somebody know.

ATTIC,

gigi

Thanks be to God for his gift that is too wonderful for words. 2 Corinthians 9:15 NCV

Give thanks to the Lord because he is good. His love continues forever. Psalm 136:1 NCV