"I'll Take Care of It"

I sat out on the back patio yesterday afternoon, for the few brief moments that the sun came out, soaking up Vitamin D and praying. I have been feeling burdened lately about our family’s finances. We’re doing okay now and I am proud of how we budget our money. But I was worrying a lot about how we’ll do when we have another kid. I do imaginary budget cuts in my head and try to figure out how we’ll make it with another kid or two. There’s a lot of planning that needs to happen. No, we’re not pregnant, but Kyle and I both would like more kids, and, well, I’m a planner.

It’s been very hard to trust God with our finances. I felt very independent, before we got married, and it’s hard to trust God, let alone another person, with how much money we make and what to spend it on. All that to say, I’ve spent too much time worrying.

I get irritated by the “do not worry” verses in Matthew 6 and Luke 12. Worrying is what I do. How will things get done if I’m not there to monitor the process?! Those verses have never made sense to me because I don’t know how to turn the worry switch off. I asked God what I’m supposed to do about that, and, to my surprise, he answered me. I immediately had a memory flash into my mind:

It was the week before our wedding in Wilmore, Kentucky. The planning had gone incredible smoothly, except for the reception catering. We were having the reception at a hotel in Lexington, and the blasted caterer had not returned my calls. We were supposed to have set the menu two weeks prior to the wedding and I had been calling her. Every day. For two weeks. I was beyond frustrated. I was furious. This was the only thing I freaked out about during the whole planning process, so I did it up big. I remember calling my mom as I was driving up Jessamine Station Road from Kyle’s house to our new apartment. It was a Friday night and I vented at how mad I was at the caterer and how she was making my life miserable. I think my mom laughed. She said, “Ok. I’ll take care of it.” And she did. Mom, being the Fixer of All Things Broken, had it taken care of the next day. Menu picked and set in stone. I don’t know who she talked to or how she got a hold of the right people, but I had nothing to worry about because Mom had taken care of it. At the reception the next weekend, we had the most wonderful food I’ve ever had at a reception: crab legs, prime rib, Caesar salad in cute little martini glasses, fruit plates and an endless chocolate fountain. It was all so delicious (And yes, I ate our reception. I highly recommend it!). The best part was, I hadn’t had to give it another thought after Mom took care of it.

And then it hit me. God was telling me, “I’ll take care of it.” He might have even laughed a little, too. I wanted to tell him, “but, wait, let me give you my stipulations first” but I resisted. God is bigger than our Excel sheet budget. The Bible says he owns the cattle on a thousand hills. He has been so faithful in my life. Time and again. Why would he not be faithful now? So, on our back patio yesterday, I handed it over to God. I asked him to take care of my family and our future, the way Mom had taken care of the reception catering. He has a good future planned for us. And I am choosing to trust him with it.

Idiot

Have you ever been the idiot and not realized it until it was too late? I was driving to work in the left lane one day this week and crested a hill with a truck in the right lane in front of me. There had been construction going on for a few weeks, with the right lane closed, so I was waiting for the truck to get over into my lane but he wasn’t starting to merge. I was staring at the guy in the truck and we even made eye contact once, through his side mirror. I was giving him a, “Come, on, idiot, I’m waiting!” look. Finally, I looked up, and to my surprise, the lane closure had switched and the left lane was now closed. I had to quickly switch lanes so I wouldn’t hit the cones. I was the idiot.

I’ve caught myself focusing on the flaws of others a lot lately. I’ve found myself getting frustrated at things that others around me are doing or not doing, and letting things get under my skin. I want to say, “Come on, idiot, I’m waiting” more than I’d like to admit. And I have been convicted to consider the plank in my own eye instead. Lord, let me not be blind to my own shortcomings. Let me not think so highly of myself that I don’t see the room for improvement, refining, and correction in my own life. Help me not to be an idiot.

Hugs

I always call myself an “accidental children’s minister,” but today I was reminded that God is in the middle of a lot of happy accidents. I had never planned on being a children’s minister and a lot of days, I feel like I’m only slugging along and someone else could probably do a lot better job than myself. But I love kids and I love Jesus, so its pretty fun when I get to tell kids about Jesus’ love for them. But its even better when I get to show it.

There are two little girls who come regularly with their grandma. The girls are so sweet, but to be honest, I haven’t spent tons of time getting to know them. When they walked in today, they both ran up to me and gave me huge hugs, which was a delightful surprise. A few minutes later, I sat down at the color station to color with one of the girls before we got started. I was asking about Grandma and if they lived with Grandma. She said, “yes, my mom died.” I told her how sorry I was (this girl is six years old) and she offered that her mom had taken too much medicine and died. I don’t know the story at all but its obvious what it looks like and my heart broke for this little girl. I told her I was sorry and gave her a big hug. I think she needed a mom today and I was able to give her a sliver of what a mom would give.

Another girl is one of my favorites (I know, not supposed to have favorites) and we always have good talks. Grandma (different Grandma) takes her to church, too, because her mom is sick. Mom is basically paralyzed from the neck down and in a wheelchair. We pray each week that God will heal her mom. But in the meantime, I get to give the hugs that Mom will one day give when she is well, whether that is on this side of heaven or not. I always make sure to give an extra squeeze when I hug this little princess, one for me and a secret one for her mama.

I think it was Maya Angelou who said something along the lines of, “people will forget what you say, they will forget what you do, but they will not forget how you made them feel.” I hope I made these little girls feel loved and cherished. I cannot think of anything better I could have done with my morning.

Grumpy Hobbit

I have been surprised at how much of an introvert I’ve become since Liam was born. Well, it might have actually started a few months before he was born. I didn’t really go through a “nesting” phase, but I did start wanting to just be home. This is new to me because I’m usually looking for the next fun thing to do and always find excuses to leave the house, even if its just to go to Target. But something shifted and I’m finding myself loving my time with my little family and not having much of a desire to socialize.

This new disposition has come with its share of consequences and I continually feel like I’m disappointing my friends when I don’t reach out. A dear friend recently had a baby and we’ve e-mailed a whole lot but I have only talked to her once on the phone. Its like I can’t bring myself to interact. It doesn’t feel like post-partum depression or anything, I don’t feel depressed at all, I just don’t feel like talking to people! This is especially true because I’m “on” a lot at work, particularly on Sundays. After smiling and running around and hugging kids and giving the lesson, I’m ready to crawl in a hole with my family by the time I get home.

I think one of the reasons for the way I feel is that I want to just soak up every second with Liam. I waited a long time for this little guy and love every second with him, every kiss, every smile (and he smiles a lot!), his little toes, his fat little tummy, the way he flaps his arms when I unwrap him after a nap. I can’t get enough of him! My heart swells when I think about how much I love him. Another reason I think I’m content at home is because it takes a lot of work to get out! Just timing Liam’s feedings, naps, bedtime, etc. is exhausting when you’re trying to fit it in to an outing. It makes you reevaluate if you really want to leave the house or not!

I’m afraid this post is sounding like I’ve become a grumpy hobbit. I hope I haven’t. Its just that I’ve noticed how much more content I am at home when I used to look for reasons to get out of the house and play with friends.