Caterpillars and Dial-up Internet

Our WiFi was ridiculously slow last Wednesday. Baker looked at me and asked, “Is this what dial-up was like?”

Waiting is not something we are accustomed to, today. We are a society frequently defined by convenience and instant gratification.

On a seemingly unrelated (but I’ll tie it together...I promise) note...

A common random theme that has surrounded Baker over that past week has been butterflies. Everywhere he looks, from his morning devotional, to his reading work from school, to his science work from school, to our family walks, to our pastor’s sermon this morning, the theme of butterflies/caterpillars keeps popping up.

In my experience “random themes” tend to be God’s way of tapping us on the shoulder.

Let’s be real. When you see a caterpillar do you stand in awe of its beauty?

If one crawls across your back porch, do you take a picture? Do you stare with wonder at the grace with which it inches across the ground? What if one falls from the porch covering and lands on the side of your drink? Do you grab your phone for a selfie?

Or do you notice its awkwardness? Do you get a little queasy thinking about it landing in your sweet tea? Do you wonder if it’s one of those poison ones like you saw on Facebook?

Do you see its future state, or do you fixate on its current condition?

I see the caterpillar exactly as it is right now. “Don’t touch that!” I holler to my curious kids. It’s not welcomed on my drink, on my skin, or in my house. The stranger it looks, the more I fear the unknown. I don’t like it. It’s gross. It creeps me out.

These last few weeks have felt like that.

Like a big, fat, juicy, creature fell out of the sky and straight into our laps. The really weird looking kind...the slimy and spiky kind with fur and horns.

Like a whole rolling swarm (that’s the actual term!) of gross weirdness just came out of nowhere and took over.

We look at our current condition and it’s absolutely surreal.

What we forget, though, is that the end is far more beautiful than the beginning.

We are NOT meant to know when this all will end...so we can go back to business as usual.

We are meant to use this time to to draw closer to our families and our God.

The caterpillar becomes the butterfly that my son and daughter chase through the pasture as they giggle with delight and pray that one will land right on their heads. I grab my phone to take a picture. I post it on Instagram for the world to see.

It takes time.

It can’t be rushed or forced.

The metamorphosis is a delicate process.

And when we attempt to speed things along, we destroy the beauty that is intended to emerge.

The trash heap that seems to have befallen us all, WILL produce beauty...in His time.

That’s hard for us. We want God to operate with WiFi service when it feels like He’s operating through dial-up...or worse...a carrier pigeon.

His thoughts are not our thoughts. His perspective is not our perspective.

The end-beauty will not come through impatience and wondering when this will all end. The questions where we allow our mind to fixate, influence the peace in our hearts.

The beauty will come with our willingness to believe that what comes next is unimaginable beauty.

It comes with our willingness to ask what we can do with this time to glorify Him.

It will come with us asking what we can do to serve those around us.

It is time to wrap ourselves in the cocoon of His promise, pour out our love, and trust that we will emerge a new creation.

25Donna Rial-Baker, Sharron Hayward and 23 others

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AND know...

 Some thinking during my morning run (got a pretty pic during my run too):

Every time I’ve heard Psalm 46:10 I’ve heard two instructions:

1. Be still.

2. Know that He is God.

Seems pretty clear.

But what if He wants us to read it differently right now? What if the emphasis should be on the “AND”. Not two directives...just one.

Time, right now, seems to be moving at warp speed and simultaneously standing completely still.

Many of us are under orders to “shelter in place.”

We are schooling our own children, and we are working from home.

Everything seems so uncertain. The world has come to a screeching halt.

Be still.

But do you see Him in the stillness?

Do you know that He is GOD in the stillness?

When we have NO control over anything, and we are forced into the stillness, do we still KNOW that He is God?

Like...the same way Luci KNOWS Dave will pick her up when she falls? The same way Baker (in all his science knowledge and life of anxiety) has absolutely no fear in all of this because he KNOWS we will provide for him?

Are we able to be still AND know that He is the almighty...who knows the plans he has for us...to give us hope and a future?

Can we find a way to welcome the stillness...and in that stillness, find a way to KNOW that He is God?

41Donna Rial-Baker, Margaret Christensen and 39 others

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Your "Only" Is MY Everything

 YOU feel great and don’t see what all this hysteria is about. Cool.

I’m NOT panicked. But we (Luci and I) are quarantined...like for real haven’t left the master bedroom since Sunday and haven’t hugged or even been in the same room as my husband or son since Friday morning when they left for work and school.

I’m doing it to protect my immune compromised 4 year old daughter with asthma who already has viral pneumonia with 105+ fever and was hospitalized until Sunday and has now been sent home and told to completely quarantine until further notice.

She’s still not 100% better, but she’s getting there. And she’s definitely better enough to be restless and ready to get out. Have you spent an hour in ONE room with a restless 4 year old not allowed to leave? Have you spent 6 days? Not in a whole house...one room. One. Room.

I really hate it for all of you who have been super inconvenienced because all the fun shut down. I get it...you’re not at risk so it really stinks for you.

I’ll tell you this though...it doesn’t stink as bad as medical quarantine. The masks you have to wear...The air purifier that sounds like a jet engine in the room...Being told to stay 6 feet from the door at all times.

It doesn’t stink as bad as only communicating with a doctor through speaker phone and a window. And when the doctor and nurse do come in (as infrequently as possible) the gowns and masks and face shields terrify your child.

It doesn’t stink as bad as being in a hospital and having to take your child’s temp every 2 hours and measure her urine output and recording and reporting so as to limit contact with the medical providers.

It doesn’t stink as bad as having to maintain complete distance from the rest of your family in the same house for days and days.

It doesn’t stink as bad as being told by the pediatrician to please NOT bring her in for the post-hospital follow-up appointment...that she’s safer at home.

I don’t say ANY of this for pity. We are safe and loved.

I just say this as a reminder to those who think this is just silly...please consider...maybe you don’t see how this is about you...but when it becomes about someone you love, perhaps you’ll wish we had worked harder to ALL be in this together. Maybe then you’ll see that the fuss was about ALL of us, all along.

A Difficult Lesson in Friendship

 Watching our babies grow up can be so incredible and so painful...especially when your nine year old tells you that he was told that a kid he really thought was his close friend, is telling people they aren’t really friends.

Before anyone travels the “bully” route...that’s absolutely NOT what this is. Baker is well-loved and has plenty of friends. But, as is typical in life...sometimes we come face to face with the reality, that we aren’t everyone’s cup of tea.

We’ve all been there and experienced that kind of hurt. Looking back, it feels like 5th - 8th grade was a series of unwelcome surprises of this sort...like I’d been left in the dust. And if I’m perfectly honest, I’ve been guilty of being a bad friend, myself. It’s just part of life. It’s just part of learning.

In the grand scheme of life, it’s so very small. But...in his short little lifetime, it’s so very big. It’s his first real relationship let-down...his first friendship heartache...one of his greatest pains, yet.

It won’t be the last. There will be disappointments and heartbreak far greater. But the first is the deepest.

He told me, with tears streaming, all about it today, how he’s thankful someone told him and angry at the whole situation. He described his confusion about why someone would ever pretend to be someone else’s friend...a concept that is completely lost in Baker’s black and white world.

As he and I sat on his bean-bag chair together and he shared his hurt and disdain for being (in his words) “tricked” by someone he thought was a friend, Lucibelle competed for his attention.

“Bubba! Bubba! Hey, Bubba!”

I shushed her and encouraged Baker to share all he felt. His thoughts, feeling, and tears poured like water from a busted levy.

Finally, when she sensed he was done, Lucibelle asked, “Bubba, can I tell you something now.”

Still crying, Baker nodded yes.

You never know what tid-bit Lucibelle may impart. And when it comes to social wisdom, I’d generally steer clear of Luci’s.

“Bubba, sometimes I get said too. And sometimes I cry a lot. And sometimes I cry a little. And sometimes I don’t cry at all even though I feel sad. And it’s ok to feel sad. And guess what! You won’t feel sad forever. And when you’re done feeling sad, you will feel happy again!”

It was enough to get a grin from Baker, and she gave him a big hug. And it wasn’t long before they were playing again.

At bedtime, we talked again.

We stopped to think about all the “real” friends he knows he has. We talked about how to use this to watch for fake friends in the future. We talked about how real friends love you no matter what anyone else thinks, they don’t get jealous, and they don’t try to hold you back from what you desire.

We read 1 Corinthians 13 and talked about how that applies to friendship, replacing the word, “Love” with names of people who show those traits. And then we stood in awe of how much love surrounds him.

And then, we prayed for the people who hurt him. Truthfully, this was NOT my first instinct. Nor was it my 27th or 143rd. It wasn’t MY instinct AT ALL. It was obedience...it was God’s requirement and I knew it.

The truth is, everyone is NOT going to like us. But if we are living the life God intended for us, being kind, and being true to ourselves, then their dislike is more of a reflection on them. And that’s ok!

I asked, “So Baker what do you want to pray?”

Baker said, “Just that God will make me feel better and that he (the boy) can feel loved.”

Baker is going to bed with a peaceful heart tonight. But...of course my mind is reeling.

This is his first friendship heartbreak, but it won’t be the last. I hope that he will always turn to this lesson...to remind himself what love is and to pray for those who may not love him.

640

This is a long one. And I really debated whether or not to share at the risk of people thinking I’m insane. But I’ve been asked to share it by a couple of people. So here it goes...

640 has never been a significant number to me, but that changed last week.

The drive home from school was filled with the typical “How was your day?”, “Who did you play with and sit with at lunch?”, “Did you have any struggles?” discussions, followed by singing Baby Shark, Herman the Worm, and Mary Did You Know at the top of our lungs.

Somewhere amidst it all, the conversation took the abrupt detour that only a 4 year old with something on her mind can accomplish.

Lucibelle turned to Baker (age 9) and said, “Bubba, in the No-days, mommy and daddy will be a little old but we will still be young.”

Baker, puzzled, looked up from his book, asking, “What are the No-days?”

Lucibelle quickly clarified, “It’s when there’s no more days.”

Baker, again completely befuddled, responded, “Well...I don’t know when that would be!”

Without missing a beat, and with absolute certainty, Lucibelle answered, “640 days.”

“Wow!” Baker began to calculate the date in his head. “That’s less than 2 years!”

I hesitated to ask, but I needed to know.  I had so many questions. “So tell me again what happens in the No-days?”

Lucibelle was exasperated, “No more colors. No more days.”

The very simple, very clear, and very confident answer from my preschooler sent my head reeling.  I asked one more question, “Lucibelle where are you getting this information?”

Lucibelle sighed. “Myself,” she explained, placing a hand over her chest, “tells it to my mind,” she finished, placing a hand over her forehead as she gazed out the window.

And just as quickly as the discussion began, we were back to Baby Shark.  Well, they were.

I, on the other hand, was fighting the urge to make my car race as fast as my mind was.  I had some serious googling to do!

Once we were home, the duties of the evening took priority, but 640 was still firmly planted in my mind.

What could she have possibly meant?  She spoke with such clarity and conviction.

Of course, like you, the first thing I looked up when I finally got a brief moment of peace that night was the date 640 days from then. That date, by the way, is October 9, 2021.

Aside from being John Lennon’s birthday, that really means nothing to me.

Also, the Bible tells us that no person knows the date or time of Christ’s return...that He will come “like a thief in the night.”

So what did that mean then?

I googled “bible verse 6:40”.  Go ahead, you can too.

Or I can save you the trouble and tell you that the first verse that comes up is John 6:40.

For those who insist on KJV:
“And this is the will of him that sent me, that every one which seeth the Son, and believeth on him, may have everlasting life: and I will raise him up at the last day.”

The NIV Version says it this way:
“For my Father’s will is that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him shall have eternal life, and I will raise them up at the last day.”

Or perhaps you prefer The Message translation (verse 39 and 40):
“This, in a nutshell, is that will: that everything handed over to me by the Father be completed—not a single detail missed—and at the wrap-up of time I have everything and everyone put together, upright and whole. This is what my Father wants: that anyone who sees the Son and trusts who he is and what he does and then aligns with him will enter real life, eternal life. My part is to put them on their feet alive and whole at the completion of time.”

No matter how you spin it...there sure is a connection to the “No-days” here.

It’s also very clear that He wants everyone to know Him and be made whole again IN Him.

The next morning I asked Lucibelle about the No-days. She was clearly tired of explaining.

“It’s just when there’s no more days, Mommy!”

“But why?” I asked. “Why are there no more days?”

“Because Jesus is in our hearts, and we love him very much, and he loves us too!”

I wasn’t immediately certain she’d answered my question, but I left it at that.

As the day wore on, I came to the realization that she had absolutely answered my question.

It’s not about WHEN He is coming. It’s about WHY he is coming. It’s not about knowing the time and date, it’s about knowing Him!!!

We are all called to be the light of love, to end our worry and put our faith in him.

640  the answer.

But are we asking the right question?

I didn’t at first. And if you read back in the story, neither did Baker. Did you?

Did you first ask...when is that?

640 is NOT the answer to how many days we have left.

640 is the answer to what God most desperately wants from us. It’s the answer to our hope. It’s His promise that He WILL return and has set everything in motion as it should be.

As we look around this world that seems to be rapidly disintegrating into absolute darkness, we forget that every answer we need has been given to us.  We just need to be asking the right questions.

I need to open my spiritual ears and allow His word within my “self” (hand over my heart) to tell my “mind” (hand over my forehead).  I need to hear with childlike ears and believe with a childlike faith.

I’ve not asked Lucibelle about the No-days again except for once more at dinner last Thursday night. I asked Lucibelle to tell Dave about the No-days...why they will happen, and her response is the perfect end to this little story...

“Because Jesus wants it that way.”

Kids Get It

This is my daughter’s typical personality. She’s the free spirit...the clown...the spit-fire who tells it like it is. It was a typical night with a typical bath...the kind where she makes a Santa beard of the bubbles and splashed entirely too much water on the floor.

...a couple of hours later she asked...as she was about to fall asleep in my lap just like every night...”Mommy, will we be old when the days are over?”

I asked her what she meant.  I mean...what a jarring question from a 4 year old. Surely she didn’t mean what I thought.

With tears in her eyes she clarified the best she could though the intermittent tearful gasps...“When there are no more days...will we be old?”

Why is my 4 year old contemplating Armageddon?  Where is this coming from?  Why would she ask this?????

I did MY best to comfort her...and I made it worse. Dave tried too. No bueno.

I was out of answers...and she wasn’t out of tears.

Then I asked her...”Do you think we should pray to Jesus?”

Did I really say that out loud?   I’m the worst pray-er. You’ll never see me volunteer to even Pray for dinner!  I’m the last example you’d select for someone to share a prayer.

But it was the only agreeable solution I’d suggested in what seemed like hours.

She closed her eyes.

I prayed out loud...for peace in her heart and for Jesus to take away her worry.

It was most certainly a simple prayer.  Like I said...I don’t have the gift of praying pretty.
One of my most common “prayers” goes exactly like this:  “Dear God...Seriously????”

I heard her deep sigh, felt her relax, and she drifted off to sleep in my arms.  As though not a tear had been shed.  Just a peaceful, sleep you’d expect from a little girl... the kind who was not discussing the end of time just moments before.

Her tears now shifted to me.
God...what kind of point are you trying to prove over here?!?!  What message are you trying to deliver here???

Jesus, himself made no secret of His bias for the faith of a child.

From seemingly nowhere, a burden, much too cumbersome for the heart of a 4 year old (or any of us for that matter), became overwhelming.

The burden surpassed logic.
And much like the rest of us lost in our fear, Luci could not process the reasoning explained.

She so readily accepted turning to Jesus... and I’d like to say I do that too.

But tonight I saw what “childlike faith” actually means...

Lucibelle Sha didn’t turn to Jesus as a last resort.

She eagerly accepted my offer to pray and vehemently denied all other ideas.

More so...

Luci turned to Jesus with ABSOLUTE faith...with no doubt in her mind that He would most certainly calm her fears.
And He did.

There was nothing in her that thought that He would fall short... that she would need to perform some other act to be more deserving... or that she was undeserving.

Nope... she gave her fear to Him, and she walked away from it with absolute peace and confidence.

I can’t remember the last time I had that kind of faith. The kind when I didn’t have a question or care in the mix...

I guess God does though...He remembers. He remembers the eager innocence and the relationship that comes with the child-like faith He wants so desperately for all of us.

He misses that...He misses it so much that He would use my daughter to snap my heart to attention and draw me closer to Him as she peacefully sleeps.

“Luci,” I tried to explain, “we will have ALL the days together...even after the days are over.”   And that, I very much believe.

Put Your Claws Away, Mama Bear

Today, Baker got his heart hurt....
“You can’t sit here.  There’s not enough room.”
While I’m certain it’s not the first time he’s been treated unfairly by other kids who are also learning to balance life and ego and social behaviors...it’s the first time he’s ever noticed it.

And...after 35 years of life (short...nerdy...free-spirited...square peg...L-I-F-E), 16 of which have been spent as an educator...I can say with certainty, this first will ABSOLUTELY not be the last.

I had to operate counter to my instinct... the instinct with teeth and claws. I think as parents and protectors we spend times like these thinking of ways to defend our own and get back at the ones who caused the pain.

Instead, we identified the feeling and thought of ways to respond if Baker ever sees anyone else experiencing the same social stress.  Rather than remaining the victim, he feels empowered to be someone else’s hero.  In Baker’s words, “I can use my experience as a shield for someone else who might go through the same thing, but they won’t have to feel any pain from it.”

May we all learn from our hard moments, how to bless the lives of those around us.