Snapshot

One of those wish-I-had-a-camera moments:

My sweet daughter stretched out like banana across the recliner eschewing breakfast to read a book.

There are many things I don't "get" about her, but I get this and I love it for her.

The object of affection

My 18 month old daughter has entered a new phase that involves hugs and specifically wanting my care and affection. This is incredibly tender and sweet for me because Lil L has never been a child who would sleep in my arms and has been remarkably independent from the get go. It's also kind of shocking in its intensity.

Yesterday, we were in a new part of town in a new place while Grandma had a doctor's appointment. Lil L spent a good 10 minutes wanting to be near me while she sussed the place out. When she's upset about anything, a reprimand, a loud noise, being tired, she wants to be near me. She'll tenderly lay her head in my lap, and when I show up after an absence, I get an amazing smile and often out-stretched arms and a toddler run. At the moment, I am the clear object of her affections.

I, as an adult, have never been a kid person. So until I had a child, my understanding of children was limited to my hazy memories and TV. As I experience motherhood, I feel I've been given a new opportunity to engage little people, and this is helping me re-engage with Jesus. You know, the Jesus that said:

Let the little children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the kingdom of God belongs to such as these. I tell you the truth, anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a little child will never enter it.
~The Gospel according to Luke, chapter 18

"The kingdom of God belongs to such as these." Lil L falls over a lot as she skitters around our tile living room. She can't help with the dishes or the laundry. She's our little agent of chaos. But she is unwavering in believing that mama is where it's at.

In the kingdom life, it is easy to want to think that we get kingdom merit badges for doing awesome stuff. But Jesus might be saying that the kingdom is for awkward incompetents who have a seemingly insane belief that Jesus and Jesus alone is where it's at.

Jesus is never too busy for her

In my head, I have a "9-5" which actually much longer than 9-5 but also my unit of productive work. I like to think that at the end of the day when my husband comes home we can share what we did during our "9-5s" My 9-5 has three domains: A) caring for L, B) taking care of the house, and C) academic writing. This week has been a major struggle because time wise A > B > C, but in my heart I was wanting C > B > A. I have a looming deadline to push out a few pages of writing and I am woefully behind. I'm one of those writers who works best when I can "get in the zone". It's not "be in the zone" it's "get in the zone". Getting there takes some doing and frequently, by the time I'm there, L is done with her nap or done with my ignoring her or just done and needing my attention. I grit my teeth and turn to her with unwritten thoughts flying through my head and disappearing into the ether. So that's me: at home but maybe not with my daughter.

In our evening readings this week, N and I read through the Gospel of Mark passing through this passage:

They came to Capernaum. When he was in the house, he asked them, "What were you arguing about on the road?" But they kept quiet because on the way they had argued about who was the greatest.

Sitting down, Jesus called the Twelve and said, "If anyone wants to be first, he must be the very last, and the servant of all."

He took a little child and had him stand among them. Taking him in his arms, he said to them, "Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me; and whoever welcomes me does not welcome me but the one who sent me."

~The Gospel of Mark, chapter 9

I blithely tried to put this passage out of my head, but there's no denying the drama. After a stretch of dusty travel, Jesus reveals to his disciples that he overheard them arguing about who was the greatest. They're all sheepish because they got caught, but really they do want to know how they rank because they all think they have personally sacrificed the most and achieved the most. And then Jesus upends everything. What's this stuff about being first and being last? And then he holds up one of Peter and Andrew's cousin's friend's boy and says, "Whoever welcomes one of these little children in my name welcomes me…"

Maybe there are mothers who know in the deepest core of their being at every moment and hour of the day that serving their child is an act of service to God, I am not one of them. More often than not, I think that applying the training I've received over the past 7 years is an act of service to God which is hindered by having to amuse and attend my drooling baby who so wants to be with me that she has crawled under my desk and is sucking on my computer cables. This passage rudely questions my evaluation of things, now doesn't it? It's not that my job as a researcher has no kingdom value, it does. It's more that when she's crawled 6ft from her play area to be near me at the computer, can I put down that work and embrace this little one fully, with an open heart because I wouldn't want to be too busy for Jesus and Jesus is certainly never too busy for her?

--
This post is part of an ongoing series I am writing along with the author of On Expecting

We'll never get March back

--Has it hit you that you're a MOM?
--No. Keep asking me and I'll let you know when it happens.

New motherhood is weird. Newly married was weird and actually also disrupted my sleep patterns because it took some getting used to sharing a bed, but new motherhood takes that to a whole new level. My life in the day is punctuated by feedings after which my mother takes the little one and I get back to my dissertation. At night, I'm on my own for three feedings: midnight, 3AM, and 5AM (more or less). Pee and poo are whatever, breastmilk everywhere? Ugh. Inconsolable crying? [tears hair out]

My newborn turns 1 month today, and it's supposed to take 30 days to start a new habit or so I heard. But normal still feels like March, just me and my husband, our morning routines, our evening routines, our outlook on life and planning. Starting today I have finished the Chinese month of postpartum recuperation and can leave the house. I've left the house to go to the pediatrician's, but have otherwise been house-bound. Frankly, I haven't minded it one bit partly because it furthers the illusion that life is as it was. (Having Mom prepare my meals and others go grocery shopping for me is pretty nice too.) I don't have to think about how to run my errands with a newborn in tow. I don't have to schedule everything around her feedings. I don't have to worry about her and the vagaries of "out there". It's May, but I keep thinking it is March.

This reminds me of that verse about being "new creations"

Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; the old has gone, the new has come!
~Paul's 2nd letter to the folk in Corinth

I've been a follower of Jesus for most of my life, way, way longer than I've been a mother, yet I find that I can also have the mindset that "normal" is my old life. This new life is strange and not real. What does it take to embrace a new identity and to own it?

About 2 years ago, 5 years into my PhD program, I realized that I wasn't an entering student anymore. I was willing to be called a scholar or researcher and could self-identify as that. Some time in the past 3 years, I've grown accustomed to being married. I don't identify with my maiden name; I don't find myself trying to assert my independence and "singlehood". How did these happen? Well, they certainly didn't happen in a month. For the PhD, I worked with some new students and the contrast in their thinking and my thinking was so different even though I could remember being in their shoes. That helped me to see that I had changed. In marriage, I'm finding that I'm doing "being married" more reflexively. I don't have to tell myself to consider my husband too. Not that I'm a wonderfully considerate person all the time, but I'm not reminding myself that I'm not single all the time. I've probably also finished grieving over the things I did as a single person that I've basically given up, like dragonboating and going out late. These have been replaced with other things I enjoy like Saturday morning pancakes and hosting tacos & SciFi night.

So what will it take to embrace new motherhood and being a new creation in Christ?

For new motherhood, I think it will first take time because in that time I will collect experiences. For new creation-ness, the time has been there. I think what it will take is perspective. What makes me feel like not a new creation are my stellar moments of NOT Christ-likeness. Yelling at a 2 wk old for stuff she can't control will make you feel pretty crappy. But just as I am not a perfect wife but still a wife, I am not a perfect "new creation" but still a "new creation" nevertheless. "New creation-ness" makes me feel like I should have it all together, to have left all the old stuff behind. I wonder if I need to consider new creation-ness as a process of growing into a new identity rather than the perfect, immediate adoption of Christ-like living.

Identity is a weird thing and something I thought 20 year olds dealt with. But here I am staring down 30, going through the another topsy turvy identity change.

Guess it doesn't matter cuz any way you slice it we'll never get March back.

The temporal experience of God

Lenten musing 9

¹ I will extol the LORD at all times;
his praise will always be on my lips.

² My soul will boast in the LORD;
let the afflicted hear and rejoice.

³ Glorify the LORD with me;
let us exalt his name together.

⁴ I sought the LORD, and he answered me;
he delivered me from all my fears.

⁵ Those who look to him are radiant;
their faces are never covered with shame.

~Psalm 34

In the intervening days since I last posted, my husband and I welcomed our first child into the world. Today, she is four days old and while nursing her I read aloud the lectionary readings, including Psalm 34.

As I was reading today's passages I realized that our little girl essentially has no past and only a future. Her experiences with God and his world lay ahead of her, lines in a play yet un-performed. Unlike her, I have a past and colors my present and future. Reading scripture today, I was reawakened to the temporal experience of God. Having journeyed longer in life than our little one, I can look back and point to the places where "I sought the LORD, and he answered me", where "he delivered me from all my fears." I can choose to look to [him] as a current disposition. And I can make on going choices into the future to extol , praise, and boast in the Lord.

It is my hope and prayer that our little one will have a lifetime walking with the Lord so that she too may look into her story and see God's work and will played out time and time again, and that these memories and experiences will carry her through a life filled with praise and glory for her heavenly Father.

The service of celebration

Lenten musing 3

I'm pregnant. This is not a "Hey everyone, here's the good news, I'm pregnant!" This is a "Mission control, we are ready for landing." ...or "take off." I'm not sure how to characterize this. Regardless, during this Lenten season our first child will come. As my body prepares for this child's coming, I am in need of more and more service myself. Things that I used to blithely do independently--from the stereotypical getting out of a chair to a more idiosyncratic making appointments--are now things that I turn to others to help me with.

Today's passage in the Lenten reader I'm going through is Luke 22:24-30

²⁴Also a dispute arose among them as to which of them was considered to be greatest. ²⁵Jesus said to them, "The kings of the Gentiles lord it over them; and those who exercise authority over them call themselves Benefactors. ²⁶But you are not to be like that. Instead, the greatest among you should be like the youngest, and the one who rules like the one who serves. ²⁷For who is greater, the one who is at the table or the one who serves? Is it not the one who is at the table? But I am among you as one who serves. ²⁸You are those who have stood by me in my trials. ²⁹And I confer on you a kingdom, just as my Father conferred one on me, ³⁰so that you may eat and drink at my table in my kingdom and sit on thrones, judging the twelve tribes of Israel.

Reflecting on this passage, I am reminded that in this life, following Jesus is submitting myself to one who serves. But reflecting on my life recently, what stands out is how much I am in need of service. So I asked myself, "Andrea, how are you serving the people around you?"

Here's the list I came up with:

1. I am learning to be jealous about time and activity for my husband's sake. Translation: I say no to stuff I would probably otherwise say yes to. This helps him be himself and to accomplish what he wants to get done before the kid comes.
2. I am cultivating friendships with single women. This isn't a gee-you're-so-awesome-to-do-this thing. I enjoy these women regardless of their marital status, but I'm not unaware of the tendency for married women to fall into a giant abyss of I-only-know-married-people. There are a few women that I make sure I make time for.
3. I am allowing people to celebrate this time with us. My husband and I are not gushy, ecstatic people. (Although, you might catch me in a moment after a particularly good Duke Men's Basketball win.) We have to remind ourselves to allow our community to celebrate with us. Case in point, when I asked my husband (then fiance) how many people we should invite to our wedding, I think he said 18. I told him I had more immediate relatives than that. We have hermit-y tendencies, but we are learning the goodness of allowing people into our lives and space.

I think the service of celebration isn't service just because it isn't my first inclination. Celebration can bring with it elements of the gospel. Being together and enjoying one another points toward the ultimate calling together of God's people before his throne. Celebrating a wedding points toward the bridegroom Jesus and his church. Celebrating a child to come points toward the expectation of Jesus' return and points toward our process of being "born from above" as new creatures, citizens of God's kingdom.

For many people, these are glum times. Many of us know people who have been laid off, are ourselves are laid off, or are worried about being laid off. When we celebrate what is true and beautiful, we are reminded of God's goodness whether we can articulate that or not. In the small and big ways we allow people to join in celebration, we enlarge the reach of God's kingdom. And that is a good thing.