Grace  enters the kitchen, breathless and covered with early morning mist. In her hand she holds a few small roses from our garden, presents for Mommy. “You don’t let me get flowers for you from the store,” she says, “so I have to get them from outside.” She asks me for a little vase or cup of water we can put them in ~ then we sit them on the middle of our table to admire.

I love flowers and always have. Just like my mother, daisies are my favorite. Happy and unpretentious, I don’t find any that compare with their simple beauty. Arranged in a beautiful bouquet, cut flowers brighten any room and make almost anyone smile  -and that is their purpose.

What is always sad for my little ones to see is that these flowers, once cut, are destined to wilt and die. Some disappoint us and wilt overnight; others surprise us (often some flower we aren’t as thrilled about, sad to say) and last a full week or even two. But eventually, they die because they are not connected to their root.

Sometimes Grace brings me a flower or two but gets distracted by some more important matter like building blocks or playing hide and seek with Daddy. She tosses the flowers on the table and runs off, forgetting them for the moment. She may remember them only an hour or two later, but alas, they have died and she must toss them out and collect more.

We as people can be a lot like Grace’s flowers. When we choose to connect to the source of our spiritual life (Christ) we remain fresh and flourishing. But when we choose to cut ourselves off from the spiritual nourishment of His life-giving Presence, we quickly begin to wilt. Some of us may be able to keep up a nice display of what appears to be strength and beauty for an impressive amount of time. We may even be impressed with our own abilities to survive on our own, or so we think. Like freshly cut flowers, we may appear to everyone as though we are thriving when the reality is our souls are wilting more quickly than we’d like to admit.

We may keep this up for awhile – feeding ourselves with the stuff of this world – the praise of other men, a new adventure or destination vacation, a socially acceptable addiction – it can be anything, really – can’t it? But it simply cannot compare to Christ. If they could speak, any cut flower would tell us that tap water and a packet of “plant food” simply can’t compare with rainwater in their roots and sunlight streaming into the soil that surrounds them.

Nothing and no one can nourish our souls, our spirits, that inner part of us that thirsts so deeply, that hungers achingly for unconditional love, abundant life, or meaningful and enduring relationship but Christ. No one else can fill our void for love, satisfaction, pleasure, worth, dignity, or true happiness the way that He can. No one.

I’m so glad that Jesus spoke to us sometimes in His Word through parables, stories, and illustrations when He knew we just might not “get it” any other way. Here He speaks to His disciples as they walked through a vineyard, referencing the life of the vines that surrounded them for their spiritual lesson (and now ours):

“Abide in me, and I in you. As the branch cannot bear fruit by itself, unless it abides in the vine, neither can you, unless you abide in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. Whoever abides in me and I in him, he it is that bears much fruit, for apart from me you can do nothing.If anyone does not abide in me he is thrown away like a branch and withers; and the branches are gathered, thrown into the fire, and burned. If you abide in me, and my words abide in you, ask whatever you wish, and it will be done for you.” ~ John 15:4-7 ESV

How about you, friend? Are you feeling depleted of spiritual and emotional strength today? Have you come to a realization that the good fruits of love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, gentleness, and more cannot be worked up or self-produced, but must come as a result of a loving relationship with the Almighty – the source of all true goodness? If so, the good news is that even when we are withered, He can breathe new life into us. When we hunger and thirst, He is eager to fill. So cling to the Vine – and come alive again.

image courtesy of www.creationswap.com

Dearest Abigail,

I wrote to you the week you were born to recount the story of your birth, to etch the words in a forever memory, never to be forgotten. The day when you entered our lives.

Today, I want to do the same thing. For the same reason. So that I never forget your first year. I swore to myself when we first had you that I would never call you anything other than Abigail. What a beautiful name you have! But alas, as the months rolled on and your sisters wore me down, you were called by many endearing names, our most favorite being “Abby Cadabby” like the Sesame Street character and my least favorite being Grace’s slang of “Abs.”

Your first few months seemed a blur of breastfeeding, trying to keep up with your sisters, sleeping or attempting to sleep even though your sisters were awake when you slept (can anyone really communicate how hard it is to have three kids under five?? ever??!), and just trying to make sure that you survived their attempts to use you as their new doll 🙂 Most of the time you didn’t mind at all and anytime you did, you were quick to scream and look at me in an act of desperation, your eyes saying, “MOMMY! Free me from these crazy siblings who wish to use me as their pawn!” Now, you gladly play with them and let them play with you and Chesed has even learned how to safely take care of you in her loving, almost-three-year-old kind of way. No one makes you laugh like your sisters. No one.

But, I am happy to say, more than either of your sisters, you are a Mommas girl. You love your Daddy immensely and cuddle into his chest just like both of your sisters did, but when it comes to making your needs known, Mommas your gal. Your Daddy often tells me, “She was fine until you walked in….really!” as you break down in tears when I enter the room. While some people would see this as a negative thing (and I am not saying it is easy when this does happen!!) I secretly love the fact that you can break down with me like no one else. I pray it stays that way. That when you are 2 or 12 or 17 or 25, you will know that my arms are a safe place to rest and be yourself and be loved for who you really are – nothing more or less.

I guess that is one of the things I have realized in this first year of your life. Many of the things you have shown us to be true about you as an infant, I pray will endure into your adulthood.

And I want to write these qualities down now, these observations, which Maria Montessori would be so proud of, to remind you of who you really are, if ever you seem to forget. Because sometimes life gets hard, as you have already discovered having two sisters! and sometimes we need a gentle and loving reminder from someone who really loves us to answer those deep questions of “Who am I?”

Abigail, you love people. You hate it when everyone leaves the room and you are the only one there. You have screamed in protest about this from the day you were born, pretty much. I love that about you.

Abigail, you have a hearty appetite for life. You play exuberantly, laugh unashamedly, and are ticklish and fun-loving.

Abigail, you will eat whatever is placed in front of you. With thanksgiving. Never have I had such an un-picky eater.

Abigail, you love music. You love to dance to songs and play drums with Daddy and sing alone with Grace and her violin.

Abigail, you light up every room you enter. Your smile distracts all of my Bradley students every week when Daddy brings you in for me to nurse you. Strangers comment how beautiful you are and how happy you are. Your presence brings joy wherever you go.

Abigail, you love to cuddle. You linger in my arms and don’t just come for physical nourishment but for emotional comfort and security. And it is perfect. and beautiful.

Abigail, you are a unique and essential person in our family. And with you, we have all become better.

I love you, my dear Abigail, and my prayer for you today, on your first birthday is simple. I prayed and asked God to speak to my heart a blessing to speak over you today. Here it is:

(From Proverbs 8)

I pray that you would speak noble things, that from your lips would come what is right and that your mouth will utter truth. I pray that wisdom would be your crown jewel, that nothing you ever desire would compare with her. I pray that you would be a woman who listens to the voice of Wisdom, watching daily at her gates and waiting beside her doors…that in finding Wisdom you would find true life and obtain favor from the Lord.

I love you, my precious daughter. I praise God for your first year and I pray that you would have a hundred more, full of love, life, wisdom, and fruitfulness in Christ Jesus, whom I pray will become as precious to you as He is to me.

Love,

Mommy

Now when He got into a boat, His disciples followed Him. And suddenly a great tempest arose on the sea, so that the boat was covered with the waves. But He was asleep. Then His disciples came to Him and awoke Him, saying, “Lord, save us! We are perishing!” But He said to them, “Why are you fearful, O you of little faith?” Then He arose and rebuked the winds and the sea, and there was a great calm. So the men marveled, saying, “Who can this be, that even the winds and the sea obey Him?” ~ Matthew 8: 23-27

Yesterday I awoke feverish and shaking with chills, a sign that yet another bout of mastitis had hit me unannounced. Only a day before I was totally healthy, hiking through the woods of Maryland with family and friends, giddily picking leaves for our “leaf project” for school. I decided to stay home from our homeschool co-op and two friends graciously volunteered to take the big girls to their respective schools for the day. I tried to rest. Abigail seemed unwilling to nap. After a little crying (and no napping for either of us), I sighed and picked her up, grabbing my phone along the way to receive a text message:

“All Hill schools are on lock down because of a shooter at Navy Yard…” My friend told me her husband would pick up my little girl if needed, as her preschool is down the street from the Yard. Not the type of text any mother wants to get. A shooter killing people nearby my kid’s school. Once again, I tried to rest. I prayed. I sought The Lord. I lifted my eyes higher and remembered, interestingly enough, the  verse the girls are memorizing this week, the one they repeated right before walking out the door: “Yea, though i walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me. Your rod and your staff, they comfort me.” – Psalm 23:4

Neither of the girls knew the events that occurred yesterday, thankfully, as they were shielded by the adults around them beautifully and carefully,  but I did. And any fearful thoughts or feelings I had were comforted and calmed by that good Word – “though I walk (not denying the reality of circumstances)…I will fear no evil (a chosen response of the will) Why? Because You, Lord, are with me. And you are with my kids.

Being sick allows you time to sit (if you do as you are told, which I sometimes don’t do – I will admit I can be stubborn!) and think (if you can tune out distractions, like second by second “Breaking News updates, ” as I faced yesterday…eventually I just turned these off completely). I am reading Matthew lately and today my reading included this passage of Jesus in the storm. Something hit me in a way it hadn’t before – “…the boat was covered in waves, but He was asleep.” I repeated this again in my mind. The boat Jesus was in was covered in waves, yet He slept undisturbed. His circumstances should have overwhelmed Him to the point of death, and yet He slept silent, undisturbed in body or in spirit. What allowed him to be at a place of such peace? A deep relationship of trust and confidence in His Heavenly Father. He knew that nothing could happen to Him without His Father’s bidding, outside of His sovereign plan.

Today I am encouraged that while circumstances may often be out of my control, my response to them is not. I can choose faith instead of fear, trust instead of anxiety, and confidence in my Heavenly Father’s care instead of doubt in His plan. But I will only be able to make that good choice in the very difficult occasions life presents if I daily make the choice to cultivate a lifestyle of intimacy with my Father. The more I know Him and am certain of His character, the less I will fear what life throws my way.

What about you, friend? Has your ship been tossed and flooded today? this week? this year? Christ wants to calm you, to fill you with His peace that passes understanding. But first, you must lift your eyes off your circumstances and onto Him. Instead of being overwhelmed by the floods of evil, sickness, stress, and troubles of life, lets be overwhelmed with His Presence instead.