Date Archives → October 2006

on baby, home, and seeds.

Jameson is over 13.5 pounds. Amazing! His cheeks are round and firm, his legs are beginning to show signs of chubbiness, and his wrists are increasingly just rolls! Along with getting bigger, he’s also getting older. His eyes are bright and clear (and a beautiful dark blue, just like his daddy and Aunt Julia). They recognize me and follow me around, although his favorite person to watch is Ryan. Jameson always watches Ryan. (Guess how thrilled Ry is by that!) His newborn cry has developed into the wail of an older baby, and he “talks” more and more. And remember this? On October 25th, Jameson totally made my day when after getting fussy with his grandmother and aunt, he was passed to me and immediately stopped crying. He didn’t want to eat, he just wanted to be with me. I’m sure I was beaming!

His best time is in the morning, right after he wakes up. He doesn’t have to eat right away, but instead just talks and talks and curiously looks around. For the last couple of weeks, that was his special time with Nana Dunphey, but now it’s just me and him. Today I made coffee and did some exercise while he stared out the window.

He sleeps with his mouth closed. This is a phenomenon to me, as none of my siblings or niece and nephews manage to do so.

And he keeps everyone guessing as to who he looks like. My guess is that he’s probably a nice mix of both his mom and dad.

I love being home. For the first time in a long time, I’m feeling a bit like myself, and homemaking sounds like fun again. Today is food day — think through menus, stock the cupboards, cook enough for at least one night. Both Ryan and I will benefit from a purposed, healthy diet, especially since the season of pumpkin pie and Christmas cookies is fast approaching!

Tomorrow is laundry day — if I can make it till tomorrow. That Mt. Everest I’ve referred to is about to topple, even though I washed everything just a couple days ago! I have a vague memory of life a couple years ago and only doing laundry once a week. Huh. Amazing.

And then there’s the chore I don’t really want to talk about: sorting Jameson’s clothes and putting away what he’s already outgrown. His little arms are sticking out a bit too far for these cool-weather days. So. You can do it, Danica. Just take a deep breath and put them in the attic.

Living for His pleasure… My heart is in a constant struggle for who sits in the throne. You know the one I mean; it’s familiar to every believer. Every once in awhile, Self slips back up there, and I don’t even notice for awhile until the Holy Spirit taps me on the shoulder, and I realize He’s not where He should be. Recently I’ve been challenged once again to be willing to make the right decisions and lay my life down and be poured out as a drink offering — and to do so not because I think I’ll get a prize, but just because I want to please my Father. Some day there will be rewards for those who seek Him (we must believe that in order to please Him.) Those rewards may be evident now, but He may choose to reveal many only in eternity. Regardless of what and when, my joy must be in simply obeying and loving Him. Even if my life is hidden in obscurity, and nothing ever seems to come of the seed I sow, my satisfaction can be that He is worshipped and enthroned in my heart. And of course, the wonderful thing is knowing that He cannot be mocked, and every good seed I sow must and will bear fruit accordingly. But the fruit is His job; the sowing is mine. And sometimes I need to remember to sow not because there will be fruit, but just because He asked me to… and it’s my joy to follow Him.

e. elliot on titus 2

Elisabeth Eliott writes this about Titus 2.3-5:

“It would help younger women to know there are a few listening ears when they don’t know what to do with an uncommunicative husband, a 25-pound turkey, or a two-year-old’s tantrum.

It is doubtful that the Apostle Paul had in mind Bible classes or seminars or books when he spoke of teaching younger women. He meant the simple things, the everyday example, the willingness to take time from one’s own concerns to pray with the anxious mother, to walk with her the way of the cross–with its tremendous demands of patience, selflessness, lovingkindness–and to show her, in the ordinariness of Monday through Saturday, how to keep a quiet heart.

These lessons will come perhaps most convincingly through rocking a baby, doing some mending, cooking a supper, or cleaning a refrigerator. Through such an example, one young woman–single or married, Christian or not–may glimpse the mystery of charity and the glory of womanhood.” ( — “A Woman’s Mandate”)

I thought this picture of an “older woman” was so inspiring. It’s the woman I want to grow up to be.

But I was more than just inspired; I was reminded immediately of a woman I know and admire: Mrs. Nordberg. Our culture would say that she’s entered a season of life where she can really enjoy herself — in fact, she deserves it. (Haven’t you come to hate that word?) Her children are all grown and out of the house. She should be lavishing her time on none other than herself, says popular thinking. But instead, she recognizes an opportunity to sow in a very involved way into the lives of younger women. She rocks their babies and cooks their meals, strengthens their weary hands and feeble knees, and prays with faith when they cannot. She’s aware of the demands on their time, energy, and emotions, and she thoughtfully and tangibly shows them Christ. And that’s how it should be. That’s how God designed it.

And it’s a truly beautiful design.

take my moments

Ever have those days where you wonder, Am I missing it? Am I living in the perfect will of God — or has my living sacrifice squirmed off the altar once again? I see that red flag and decide to make it an opportunity for realignment.

The amazing thing to me is that, even though I get greatly overwhelmed by my shortcomings as I review all of the reasons why indeed I am not living in the abundance Jesus offers, the solution is always simple. It’s always simply a matter of saying, Lord, I give You my heart.

Ah.

Oh, what peace I often forfeit!

And how wonderfully pure and illuminating is the light of His presence, shining in my heart, bringing conviction and correction. How wonderfully secure my feet feel when once again they are planted in His paths. How safe my heart and mind feel when He is once again established as Lord, and my thoughts and feelings bound to the standard of His Word.

He is all goodness and purity — and there is such rest in that.

A song plays in my head as I renew my commitment:

I will come and bow down
at Your feet, Lord Jesus
In Your presence is fullness of joy

There is nothing,
there is no one
to compare with You

I take pleasure in worshipping You, Lord

Sacrificial Love (A Must Read)

This story originally appeared in Sports Illustrated, by Rick Reilly. It’s amazing. Make sure you read the story in its entirety before watching the video. (hat-tip)

I try to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay For their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots.

But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.

Eighty-five times he’s pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in Marathons. Eight times he’s not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a Wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and Pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars–all in the same day.

Dick’s also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back Mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. On a bike. Makes Taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?

And what has Rick done for his father? Not much–except save his life.

This love story began in Winchester , Mass. , 43 years ago, when Rick Was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him Brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs.

“He’ll be a vegetable the rest of his life;” Dick says doctors told him And his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. “Put him in an Institution.”

But the Hoyts weren’t buying it. They noticed the way Rick’s eyes Followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the Engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was Anything to help the boy communicate. “No way,” Dick says he was told. “There’s nothing going on in his brain.”

“Tell him a joke,” Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a Lot was going on in his brain. Rigged up with a computer that allowed Him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his Head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words? “Go Bruins!” And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the School organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, “Dad, I want To do that.”

Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described “porker” who never ran More than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles? Still, he Tried. “Then it was me who was handicapped,” Dick says. “I was sore For two weeks.”

That day changed Rick’s life. “Dad,” he typed, “when we were running, It felt like I wasn’t disabled anymore!”

And that sentence changed Dick’s life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly Shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon.

“No way,” Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren’t quite a Single runner, and they weren’t quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few Years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then They found a way to get into the race Officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the Qualifying time for Boston the following year.

Then somebody said, “Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?”

How’s a guy who never learned to swim and hadn’t ridden a bike since he Was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick Tried.

Now they’ve done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii. It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-old stud Getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don’t you Think?

Hey, Dick, why not see how you’d do on your own? “No way,” he says. Dick does it purely for “the awesome feeling” he gets seeing Rick with A cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together.

This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best Time? Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992–only 35 minutes off the world Record, which, in case you don’t keep track of these things, happens to Be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the Time.

“No question about it,” Rick types. “My dad is the Father of the Century.”

And Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a Mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries Was 95% clogged. “If you hadn’t been in such great shape,” One doctor told him, “you probably would’ve died 15 years ago.” So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other’s life.

Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland, Mass. , always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father’s Day.

That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy.

“The thing I’d most like,” Rick types, “is that my dad sit in the chair and I push him once.”

sleepy.

It’s after 11:30, and all mamas should be in bed.

But Baby is wide awake, laying on the couch cushion next to me, staring at…the glow of the lamp on the couch’s upholstery?…and practicing his froggy kicks.

Oh dear. I wish he thought it was bedtime, too!

:)