walks, visits, and priorities

Today I took a long walk. Ryan had a conference call, and Jameson had a bit of a fussy afternoon, so we walked to keep the fuss out of the house. Jameson loves walks (for the most part, right Mom?). So up North Street we went, and around the cemetery. Feeling adventurous, I turned left. Past the Walker’s, past the Calahan’s, on we walked. Soon the houses were behind us, and instead, fields of sweet-smelling grass, fragrant woods, and freshly-turned rows of yet-invisible corn.

And it made me miss Louissa. Once when we went for a walk, it turned into a 7-mile jaunt down country roads we’d never seen.

It made me think of how many walks I’ve taken in Madrid. It made me wonder how many more times I’ll find myself walking through farm land.

****

Tonight was dinner at the Nordberg’s. It was “simple fare” and oh-so-good. The best part was just visiting, though.

I’ll miss that. I’ll miss sitting with people from my parent’s generation, and having the secure feeling of just being loved.

We said goodbye in the driveway, where the rainy afternoon had brought out the fragrance of first flowers. Mmm, it smelled amazing. As we drove away, I said goodbye to Liz’s wedding garden, too. I’ll miss seeing it in full bloom this year.

****

I played piano for a few minutes today. There was a song stuck in my head that had to come out.

“I want to hear You say the words to me, Well done…”

Psalm 90 says, “Teach us to number our days.”

Too often I number them, find them to be short, and cling ever-more fervently to family, friends — things I don’t want to miss a moment of.

And I’ve missed the point.

Teach me to number my days — that I might seek You with passion, live only for Your Kingdom, and not squander a moment on anything not from You.

The brevity of life forces us all to make our priorities evident, to wear our hearts on our sleeves. What’s on your sleeve?

I want mine to say Jesus. He’s the only thing that matters.

I want to hear You say the words to me, Well done.
I want to hear You say, Good and faithful servant.
I want to hear You say, I’ve prepared a place for you.
Let all the treasures of the earth fade away…

Jesus, You are my reward.
To hear Your voice on that day
is all I’m living for.
Jesus, You are my reward.
To see Your face on that day
is all I’m living for.

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.

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.”

favorite moments

My favorite recent moments have been these:

** While home alone with Jameson, I sang my favorite hymns to him. I sat here with my laptop, found an online hymnal (replete with sound bytes, for when I found my memory faltering), and sang as heartily as I pleased. Sharing the rich lyrics that have conveyed conviction and inspired faith from generation to generation has been one of the things I’ve looked forward to in motherhood. He nestled against my chest and fell asleep as I rocked and sang…

‘Tis so sweet to trust in Jesus,
and to take him at his word;
just to rest upon his promise,
and to know, “Thus saith the Lord.”

Jesus, Jesus, how I trust him!
How I’ve proved him o’er and o’er!
Jesus, Jesus, precious Jesus!
O for grace to trust him more!

O how sweet to trust in Jesus,
just to trust his cleansing blood;
and in simple faith to plunge me
neath the healing, cleansing flood!

Yes, ’tis sweet to trust in Jesus,
just from sin and self to cease;
just from Jesus simply taking
life and rest, and joy and peace.

I’m so glad I learned to trust thee,
precious Jesus, Savior, friend;
and I know that thou art with me,
wilt be with me to the end.

**I’m doing my best to remember to pray while I feed Jameson. Quiet times — the good, old fashioned kind with Bible, journal, pen, and piano — are few and faaaarrr between. But I find my perspective righted and my heart connected when I begin to pray for Jameson’s destiny. It’s amazing how simply watching my baby nurse stirs meditations on God’s faithfulness, His ever-extending reign, the promise of eternity, and the need to live in the light of His coming. That’s what I want for Jameson — and so I find my own life sifted, sorted, and straightened out.

And this isn’t a favorite moment, just a thought: Some people are aware — painfully so — of the corrupt world they’ve brought their baby into. And certainly that’s a harsh reality. Life only becomes more uncertain, and the days more evil. That’s what the Bible says, and that’s what we see. But that has not inspired fear in me as I’ve considered Jameson’s future. I’ve grown up convinced that there has never been a better time to serve the Lord, and that the best is yet to come (doesn’t it say somewhere that the glory of the Lord will cover the earth like water the sea?) Should the Lord tarry in His return, that means Jameson will see far greater things than I will. More than that, though, I know that the Lord has been faithful to generation after generation of believers, and that’s not about to change. I may release Jameson into a world that hates God, but I commit him to a Father whose love endures forever. I know that whatever else Jameson may experience, he will also know the favor and faithfulness of the Lord. And that excites me. I cannot wait to share the Lord with him!

Ryan’s birthday is coming up. Last year I missed his special day, so I’m looking forward to making dinner for him and hopefully making him feel loved… because he is. Very much. I love him.

Oh — and my little man is deciding that he likes his Baby Bjorn carrier. Today I took him for a walk in it, and then later, when I couldn’t get him to sleep no matter what, I put him in it while I made a cake — and voila! Sleep!

Friday Night Stewardship

Several months ago we came to the conclusion that, like it or not, we watch noticibly more movies as a married couple than we did in our days of singleness. Naturally we’ve thought about outright banning the television from our home altogether (we already don’t have cable), but a friday evening with popcorn and a rented movie seems an ideal way for us to spend some time together. Call it lame, call it American, bottom-line is, we enjoy it.

That said, we found several frustrations with our rental patterns.

  1. The drive to the video store is about 30 minutes roundtrip
  2. It took an average of 30 minutes to find a movie–longer if we were together!
  3. Finding a movie that would satisfy our moral standards ALWAYS proved trying
  4. Despite our intentions of returning the video on time, we regularly incurred late fees
  5. We’d frequently have to stop watching a movie due to its crude or inappropriate content–not having a good way to review the movie while at video store (or worse, we’d compromise and watch it anyway, telling ourselves we would make a better decision next time.)

Well, we’ve found a better way.

First, we use an online video service called Netflix. Netflix makes sure we always have a couple of movies onhand, and sends them to us based on the list of movies we want to see–called “the queue.” Price for the service begins at $5.99 a month. we use the $14.99 plan (2-movies at a time). Each movie comes in a SASE, and when we’re done watching one, we just put back in the mail, and in a couple days, the next movie from our queue arrives. (Blockbuster has a similar service, and you might want to look into that–espcially if there’s one near you.) More, netflix’s website is super informative and easy to use.

Beyond the frustration of having to waste time at the video store, what we like best is the ability to confirm in advance that we’ll actually want to see this movie. For that we use two websites: movies.yahoo.com and kids-in-mind.com.

We start with Movies.yahoo. It’s a great resource that provides overviews, trailors, and critics reviews. (I’m a big fan of the critics reviews.) After we find a movie we think we might enjoy, we then check it through kids-in-mind. Kids-in-mind provides three ratings based on scale of 1-10: sex/nudity, violence/gore, and profanity. They also provide exhaustive lists of objectionable content which can further help you determine if this movie might be offensive. We love it, and would pay for the service if it wasn’t free.

Anyway, even though that sounds like a lot of work, it really only takes a few minutes to build a hearty queue of movies. After that, you don’t have to think about it, and because netflix doesn’t have late-fees, you’ll always have a movie on hand should tonight prove more oppurtune than friday.