Tag: parenting

Compassion

Musings on Life and Beauty

Recently I want to bed with my stomach tied in knots.  I was stressed, worried, frustrated about a particular behavior that one of my children was repeatedly displaying.  I went to bed but woke up early the next morning, unable to sleep.

As I quietly worked on a project in my studio, I silently prayed for guidance and for a feeling of calm to replace the stress.  I knew it would be foolish to begin the day with this child on the same note it was ended the night before.  I paused to watch my favorite sight of the day, the sight of sunlight reaching over the mountains to touch a darkened object with light.


I love this moment.  I love studying how the light filters through the trees to the east of my home, noticing where the first rays display their brilliance.  Morning after morning, I never tire of watching for the light.  And morning after morning, the light never fails to appear.  On this particular day, the consistency of the  sun bore testimony to me of the consistency of the Son of God.  His light never fails.


Then a scripture came to my mind, an answer to my prayer.

“It is of the Lord’s mercies that we are not consumed, because his compassions fail not.  They are new every morning:  great is thy faithfulness.”  -Lamentations 3:22-23 His compassions fail not.  They are new every morning.
I remember stumbling upon this verse months ago when I was very discouraged.   I often go to bed heavy-hearted, painfully aware of my shortcomings, my mistakes, all the poor responses I offered when I should have chosen a higher path.  I remember how grateful I felt for the knowledge that the Lord’s compassion for me didn’t fail, that every morning his love and compassion for me was new.  It gave me comfort and hope.  I memorized it and repeated it to myself often.

On this morning, I had new insight.  I saw myself on the offering end instead of the receiving end.  I thought of my child and how frustrated I’d felt.  These verses offered me new motivation as a mother.

I want to be like that , I thought.  My children need it.  I need it.  I need to increase my compassion for them, even in their weakness when I feel they should try harder.  My well needs to be deeper, deep enough that it does not fail.  And no matter what happens, I can change my heart so that it is new every morning .

I thought again of the sun.  It does not fail to rise, and its light is new every morning.

I prayed again, and a new feeling filled my heart, especially for my struggling child.

I think it’s working.  The behavior hasn’t changed much, but my response has.  It is softer, kinder, more patient.   When I smile at this child, it feels more genuine.   My efforts to help this child are more sincere, offered as a gift and not as a somewhat annoyed duty.  As I exercise patience, discipline and restraint in order to seek this feeling of compassion, my appreciation for compassions extended to me has grown.

These verses in Lamentations are so true.  Without the Lord’s mercies my life would be entirely consumed by failure, despair, sin.   In his compassion he offers me forgiveness, assistance, guidance, help.   And so I have hope, hope and the gift of new light each day, light to be savored and light to share.  A gift of renewal.

His compassions fail not.  They are new every morning.
I know this to be true.  May you feel it in your life today.

Jennifer

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Art in the Canyon

Musings on Life and Beauty

One of our objectives in spending an evening up the canyon was to encourage our children to pause and allow the beauty of our physical world to teach them something about God’s love for us.  As I thought about this, I felt a desire to sit quietly somewhere with paper, paint, pencils and easel.


I realized that although I would be busy holding little ones, I could provide such an opportunity for my children.  We packed pencils, crayons, drawing paper, journal paper and pens with us.  After enjoying our picnic, we invited the children to look around, to observe and ponder how our surroundings testified of our loving Heavenly Father.


Some of them chose to use the supplies I’d brought to capture the images they appreciated most.  It was gratifying to observe how much they enjoyed the experience (mostly the girls; the boys preferred to walk around and explore).



As I watched them, I realized that I need to slow down more often and allow time for my children to really observe and digest what is going on around them.  I need to be more intentional about planning opportunities such as this, and bringing materials with us so that we can enjoy creative expression “on location”.


I also realized that rather than saving these activities for later, I need to push them now so that they’ll be interested in them when they’re older.  Too often I avoid the stress of dragging them all out of the house in favor of the familiar routine, but I could easily do more of this in my own backyard.  All it takes is thought and planning.  I’m continually amazed at how much of motherhood is planning, praying, thinking, planning some more.


This last picture is particularly precious to me.  My beautiful daughters, absorbed in their creations, with a colorful hill as the backdrop.  Yes, we will definitely be doing this again.

What thoughtful outing has your family enjoyed recently?  I’m looking for ideas!  Please share.

Hopeful Homemaker

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Growth Chart

Musings on Life and Beauty

I’m wearing mostly khaki pants lately.  I’ve learned they blend best with this stage:


This is the face of a baby with a runny nose.


It’s the face of a baby who wants to run around outside with all the big kids, get her hands and face in the dirt, and feed herself a snack like the rest of them.

And it’s the face of a baby who runs to my legs and wipes her face across them at least 50 times a day, usually clutching them behind my knees with dirty fingers.


I get dressed every morning hoping that my pants will make it for an hour or two, at least.  I try, really I do.  But soon they’re broken in and I give up the fight.  After all, I do love having her run to me like this.

I’ve noticed in the past few weeks that the dirty spots are slowly getting higher, traveling up my legs to where I notice them sooner.  And it dawned on me:

I am a walking growth chart.


The thought made me laugh.  I’ve thought of many additional titles a mother can claim.  You know the standard list:  taxi driver, maid, cook, etc.  I’d never thought of “walking growth chart” before, but it fits.  And I know all too well that it will end.  I have many years of clean pants ahead of me.

So I claim it joyfully.  Three cheers for dirty pants!

Hopeful Homemaker

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