Author Archives → Danica

from Loving the Little Years

ecclesiastes 5.19:

Everyone to whom God has given wealth, and possessions, and the power to enjoy them, and to accept his lot and rejoice in his toil—this is the gift of God. For he will not much remember the days of his life because God keeps him occupied with joy in his heart.

“Blessings, like children, are not ethereal and weightless. Sometimes they feel like they come at you like a Kansas hail storm—they might leave a welt!

But if you accept your lot and rejoice in your toil, God will give you the kind of overwhelming joy that cannot remember the details.

Motherhood is hard work. It is repetitive and often times menial. Accept it. Rejoice in it. This is your toil. Right here.

Those are their faces. Enjoy them.

The days of your life are supposed to be full of things like this.

But joy is not giddy. It is not an emotional rush—it is what happens when you accept your lot and rejoice in your toil.

So rejoice in your children. Look them in the eyes and give thanks.

You will not even remember the work of all this planting when the harvest of joy overwhelms you.” (Rachel Jankovic, Loving the Little Years, emphasis mine.)

catching up with photos

Busy, busy, busy! Long days that fly by. Spent with four of my favorite people.

*****


last day of Friday School this year!


recovering from a late night at the boys’ spring concert


how? when? that tall??


bright blues, proud of climbing up the slide


who knew life could be so fun?


pigtails.


my helper


teeth.


scooch


highchair for a big girl!

*****

And lastly, this. Long awaited.

in gentleness

The Lord’s bond-servant must not be quarrelsome, but be kind to all, able to teach, patient when wronged, with gentleness correcting those who are in opposition, if perhaps God may grant them repentance leading to the knowledge of the truth, and they may come to their senses and escape from the snare of the devil, having been held captive by him to do his will. (2 Timothy 2.2)

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I know you won’t believe this, but sometimes those adorable little cherubs up there drive me right over the edge of sanity.

Well, actually, that’s not true. They may create the pressure, but the Bible explains so clearly that the desire to sin is in me. But that’s another topic for another day.

I find myself blowing my lid more often than I’d like. Sometimes I kick myself: “Danica, they’re kids. Be patient.” And sometimes I think, How else do I communicate that you may not attack your brother???

But here’s the thing: I don’t want to communicate anything to these little disciples but what God wants communicated. I’m just His representative, after all. When I ask a boy to deliver a message from Mama to the siblings, I’m not pleased when I hear him yelling at them with words and tone that I did not send. I expect him to begin with “Mama said…” and to continue with the kindness I first communicated. The strength of the command is in those little words, “Mama said.” If they don’t respond to that, we have a problem. But big brothers (or sassy little sister) yelling at them isn’t going to help the situation.

And so God “sends” me. This mothering thing is His assignment for me. I didn’t come up with it. I didn’t even dream of it. It’s just what He called me to one day, and I am thrilled to serve Him in this. I have become an evangelist, a shepherdess, a discipler, a teacher — in short, the mouth and hands of God to these precious lives.

If I am His mouth, then I need to simply echo what He’s asked me to say.

Sometimes I scoff at His ideas. I think, I’ll improve the message a bit. I’m sure that if I raise my voice a few notches, bark a little, grit my teeth — I think that’ll help get results we’re looking for.

He must cringe. Like I do when I hear the messenger yelling at my beloved children.

This morning, I read 2 Timothy 2:2 for the umpteenth time. Gentleness. The correcting is required; tolerating sin, turning a blind eye, making an excuse for them isn’t what I’ve been asked to do. But the correction is to be firm, consistent, and gentle.

I don’t always know what that looks like. But that doesn’t give me permission to throw out the Bible and say, “I’m gonna do it my way.” All it means is I better learn. And God will show me. He will tell me and teach me, but most of all, He shows me.

We have a gentle Shepherd, after all.

sunshine, at last

Is there anything better than a sunny day around 60 degrees, an old pair of jeans, and a trowel? I think not. The only thing that could possibly improve it is if a friend announced that she would make and bring you dinner. (I happily stayed outside even longer.)

I really and truly loved this past winter. There were so many special days with my four little loves, discovering magical worlds in our snow-covered woods, sipping hot cocoa on sub-zero days, reading Narnia in the winter afternoon sun… I didn’t want it to end. Maybe I’m God’s favorite kid, because it honestly seemed like it was never going to end.

Today, soaking in warm sun rays, listening to swallows make their annual nest in our birdhouse, smelling dirt and grass and the spicy scent of beebalm sprouts — I remembered how much there is to love in this season, too.

What’s this? Oh, you know, just my big boy shielding his eyes from the sun. Who knew that would be such a wonderful sight?

life with these littles

It’s been a real-live week. Rainy days, school that’s lasting about 6 weeks too many, teething baby, 2pm that you really would like to be 7pm… Real.

Jameson prayed this morning, “Lord, help us to know that even when we struggle, that’s just part of learning to know You, and that You’ll always be there for us.”

This little boy prophesies almost every morning lately. William prays things with insight I haven’t given him. It’s the Holy Spirit. It amazes me.

And yes, we struggle. We stop and ask for patience, grace, forgiveness. We love God and we love each other, but sometimes we love ourselves more. That’s sin, but 1 John 1.9 is in our hearts lately: He forgives and cleanses. Washes. Fresh start. Try again. And here’s a Helper.

*****

Jameson is playing coach-pitch this year. That’s him, on the left, in the air because he never stopped jumping in excitement. Best news: His Uncle Daniel is coaching him. All of his little baseball dreams are coming true.

He pushes me to my wits’ end, and he makes me laugh. I just love this kid. This morning, he was taking forever to clean the bathrooms. Forever. When I, exasperated, asked what was taking so long, he answered cheerfully, “I’m almost done, Mom! I’ve only got two left!” (He only has two to clean.) He knows how to see life half full!

William is happy and easy-going and smiles huge smiles at Fiona. This morning he kissed her and then informed me that “I think she can really feel the luuuuv when we kiss her, Mama.” Ha!

Beatrice suddenly stuck her arm straight out toward William, fingers splayed. “Wiw-yum, I am forcin’ you!” Huh? Oh!, we finally realized. She’s trying to be all cool and play Star Wars in her toddler-girl way.

Fiona was propped in her little rocker by Jameson, and then promptly surrounded by beaming siblings who were incredibly proud of her for sitting there. “Take a picture of us! Come on, everybody! Smile!” (Said Jameson.) (And yes, Beattie is wearing polkadots, crazy tights, and fishy slippers, with floral sunglasses in hand. Wow.)