Month: July 2012 (Page 3 of 5)

Kid post

July 14, 2012 / Michele Minehart

With Baby C’s birthday on the horizon, I need to log, in baby book fashion, what’s been happening with the kids. These are the days that we’ll long to remember and relive, right?

Baby C – 1 year

Her contented nature and happy smile makes her struggles of days long ago sooooo worth it. She’s simply. so. sweet. She’ll snuggle up to me and put her nose right in my neck, a gesture I treasure now that we don’t spend our bonding time nursing.
She’s sleeping through the night nearly 12 hours, on top of 2 naps (1.5-2 hours each).
Eating pretty much everything that we do, but she has a preference for meat. I have to put the veggies out first while the rest of dinner is being prepared to make sure she gets good veggie intake. But I’m pretty sure she shares her favorite food with Slim – “meat.”
She’s a quick crawler and is pulling up wherever possible. Her favorite spot to pull up is the shower (yes, the least safe). The other day she tried letting go and looked at me like, “look ma! No hands!” It’s all coming too quick. I’m in no hurry to have her walking.
She’s getting some words and mimicking most sounds – mama, dada, mo (more), na na (night night), ball… all the basics.
She doesn’t necessarily love diaper changing time, but with the right toy – a tiger – and a roar, she’s entertained.

Miss M – 27 months

We’ve gone sans diapers for nearly 2 weeks. She’s really getting the handle of the pee control, but we’ve had some poopy undies still. She’s sure trying, though.
We renamed her the Fish Monkey due to her love of swimming and willingness to try new things (she was the first to agree to try to go under the water when bribed with chocolate). She also loves hanging from the kitchen table and pulling up her feet and swinging, looking like a monkey.
She’s been in her big girl bed for a few months now and enjoys it. Lately she’s been wanting some extra sleep, so I’m expecting to have to get out the next size of clothes in the near future.
Thankfully, Miss M loves to wear hats, which is necessary for her clear complexion. I’m pretty sure the girl could get sunburned at midnight. We once went to the beach at 9 am for 2 hours wearing 30spf and she still had marks on her back from the sun’s work.
I question if Miss M has a vocab to rival H boy’s. She talks and chatters and seems to understand as much as he does. Which makes their conversations fascinating.
We went to a family reunion this summer and Miss M fell in love with her great Aunt Mary. It was so fun to watch my typically hiding-behind-my-knees girl asking to go sit on someone else’s lap. Since then she’s seen other ladies that bear resemblance and ask if they are Aunt Mary.
Favorite activity: swinging. She could swing all day and it’s never high enough. She wants pushed “very high.” Let me tell you, there’s nothing more humbling than a 2 year old asking you to put the phone in your pocket so you can push better.
M and her daddy had a daddy date earlier this week while I took the HH kids to the audiologist to get earmolds. They took a bike ride and stopped at Panera for a treat en route to the park to – you guessed it – swing very high. She included this event in her evening prayers for 3 nights straight.

H Boy – 3 1/2 years

The biggest complement he will offer you: “You’re a big girl/boy.” I love it when he randomly reminds me of how good I am / how much he’s enjoying me.
Strings, rope and cords. Those are his favorite toys. I’m not sure what kind of engineer uses a lot of rope, but I think that would be my guess of a future occupation. Just this week I’ve found a basket of toys tied to the stairs with a dog leash, a toy shovel tied to the patio chair with a clothesline and the vacuum tied to the dining room table. He leaves no string untied. At the suggestion of my MIL, I need to get him shoes with real laces. He’ll be the most impressive preschooler ever.
The ropes go hand-in-hand with his boat obsession. He talks often of Papa Tom’s “big ship boat” and Papa Jim’s kayak boat that we paddle. Nearly every bath time we hear applause and praise that “papa tom tied the boat!”
Ever since we took milk out of his cup (he still eats dairy add-ins like cheese and sour cream, we just don’t make it a staple), he’s become a much more enjoyable boy in terms of his whiny-factor. Obviously he’s still a 3-year-old. But he’s much more agreeable with less milk and bread in his daily diet.
Like Miss M’s queries about Aunt Mary, H tends to believe that any older man is named Bob. We have an uncle Bob, a neighbor Bob and there was a friendly couple at the last church who invited us for dinner; he was named Bob. H is a fan of Bobs everywhere.
Lately we’ve been talking about what it means to be kind and thoughtful. H will now get down from the table to retrieve the girls’ dropped silverware and will share his raisins freely. It’s very, very, very sweet. He loves to show Miss M how to do things – like go potty, put on his shirt, or what have you. “Just like me” he’ll say. He’s very proud to lead the way.
H and his dad had their first movie date: Brave. He loved it. We don’t do a ton of TV, and it’s mostly in movie form, so he’s not picky about characters or plot – he just likes to watch the action scene. He came home recounting how the woman turned into a BEAR! JJ believes we should take him for Ice Age as well.
I’ve really enjoyed watching interact and play with his cousins this summer. He talks often of A, R and J (V sometimes pops up, but not as much). Sometimes it’s a lot of work to make that quality time happen, but it’s so worth it. I love my cousins and enjoy our time together – I want the same for our kids.

Mom & dad

This summer, thus far, revolutionized our home. It’s been refreshing to spend time together, to work on separate projects and to be free to visit family and friends. JJ accomplished several goals in the back yard (patio, new firepit, new stairs down the deck). I’ve done more blogging and writing and imagining than I had in a while. We’ve also been able to enjoy activities separately – he’s been to a few movies, I’ve had dinner with friends, went to co-op meetings, attended a writers conference and spent several days with my college roommates. Not working has distinct advantages in the recreational world.

After the rain dance

July 13, 2012 / Michele Minehart

Few occupations in the world have the built-in position of dependency on God quite like the farmer. When the rain comes, the crops grow. When drought appears, they don’t. But very little can be done to change which of two occurs on a given day or season. Most farmers fret and worry together, filling conversations with what their crops are currently doing and what they need in order to make the harvest worthwhile.

Dad’s friend, C, no longer owns a rain gauge. “Ever since 1988 I stopped keeping one. There’s nothing I can do to put more rain in it.”

My eyes just went buggy.

At the end of the year, when the beans are cut and the corn is shelled, C knows within him that the crop is a direct result of what God did and provided, not necessarily his good work. Don’t get me wrong: the farmer’s job is to get the seed in the field. To make sure the ground is healthy. It’s all preparatory. And then to harvest when the plant is ripe. What actually grows, however, is out of the hands of the farmer.

C’s rain gauge has changed the way I view an offering.

Today I read Romans 12, a chapter that I could nearly recite by memory because I enjoy it and it retains a popularity due to the imagery. “Offer yourself as living sacrifices…” usually comes partnered with the reminder that “living sacrifices can crawl off the table.” Thus we who offer ourselves up to God must continually choose to be there.

But what if we didn’t put a rain gauge on our lives? What if our offerings – both of our time and talent, but also our checks and support – were a result of the realization that God did something, as opposed to the typical what we have to offer? What if we stopped looking at ourselves and our lives as something that we somehow made good in the first place?

Later in the chapter, it says (MSG), “…it’s important that you not misinterpret yourselves as people who are bringing this goodness to God. No, God brings it all to you.” When we show up to fulfill our volunteer duties, when we make good on supplying educational bags for poor children, when we do our part to make sure the lights stay on and the pastor is paid, this isn’t our goodness. We might be portraying an element of obedience and faithfulness. But our offering isn’t from our goodness. It’s a reminder of God’s goodness that we even have something to bring.

I imagine the farmers who for a few years had nothing to offer due to drought. But the year the rains came? He bundles up the first round and takes it to the temple. “See God? This is what you did this year. Thank you.”

Take that in comparison to the farmer who surveys his crop and says, “Well, God, if you need it, you can have *this much* as I do enjoy coming here and I’d like to see a bigger feast.”

The farmer without a rain gauge knows that it doesn’t matter how much is in there; what’s important is that God was good enough to send rain in the first place. His offering is a reflection of his gratitude, not an attempt make things right. His offering exemplifies God’s goodness, not his own.

“The only accurate way to understand ourselves is by what God is and by what he does for us, not by what we are and what we do for him.” (12:3)

Learning from the enemy

July 12, 2012 / Michele Minehart

In more than one gospel account we read about the “faith of the Roman centurion.” He believes Jesus will heal his servent without Jesus’ presence being required. Very nice, often reminding us, “just believe.” But I’ve often skimmed over a few key elements to the story.

He was a Roman. Soldier. In occupied territory.

He was the guy that everyone loved to hate. Looming nearby to “keep the peace”, probably overstepping boundaries because he could push people around out of fear. As 21st century Americans, it’s difficult for us to read the setting and really understand – we’ve not lived as an occupied nation. We don’t feel invaded, living on the brink of being forced to change our way of life. (Thanks to my fetish for WW2 history novels and biographies, I retained a sense of this but still lack the emotional connection from experience).

But Jesus’ followers were familiar, and they were tired of it. As Jesus gained popularity later in his ministry as Messiah, they fully expected a Political Jesus who would send the Romans scurrying home.

So one of these soldiers who watches the corner store comes up to Jesus and says, “my servant needs healed and you can do it.” Not only that, but he understands how authority works. When he issues commands, he needs not be present for them to be carried out and he applies the same logic to the ways in which Jesus works.

He compared Jesus’ redemptive powers to the Roman military machine and Jesus responds with, “Yes! Why do the the people who were raised with this faith not understand how it works?”

Two things.

As a pacifist, I’m not sure how I feel about the military comparison. But I suppose since Jesus was there and I was not, and he was okay with it, I can let it go. I have a feeling there’s a deeper victory in acknowledging Jesus’ reign and kingdom at the same level of the strongest military force in the world.

Second, and most notable: Jesus is talking to and healing for the perceived enemy. He’s willing to have these conversations. He’s willing to be compared to the knowledge and experiences of someone not at all like him – and he’s even willing to say, “You have a far greater understanding than the people who should ‘get it’.”

Lots of chatter takes place in religious circles about “conversations” and being among those not like ourselves. But how often are we taking their experiences as truth and informing our own? The Roman Centurion operated in a boot-on-neck fashion (thanks Rob Bell for forever etching that image in my brain), a polar opposite of Jesus’ love from the bottom-upward. But Jesus didn’t correct him – he praised him for his faith. He told his disciples that guys like this would be feasting with Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, which means that Roman military strategy will become heavenly dining conversation.

The kingdom of God seems to be bigger than my own experience. Verily I say unto you, the Kingdom of God can be found in the experiences of anyone walking this earth. Which should change the way I watch and learn from those around me.

In the past I’ve watched my non-church-going friends and family and wondered, “the way in which they’re loving others – there has to be a Jesus in there somewhere.” None of them would connect their actions or emotions to Jesus, but I’ve wondered if it’s an Unnamed Jesus. Like the Spirit at work without being acknowledged. I wonder and hope that in this passage, Jesus is granting permission to see them that way.

The Christian world likes to belittle the Do Gooders for trying to earn their keep, wishing instead for them to trade up for believing the right things. But in watching Jesus’ interactions through the Gospel, he always took the experiences of the unreligious and weighed them with an extra measure of grace. It was the religious teachers that he warned of wrong belief. He chided those with “the answers” but encouraged those with the questions.

Month: July 2012 (Page 3 of 5)

Kid post

After the rain dance

Learning from the enemy

Subscribe By Email

Recent Posts

Read more, in your inbox

Tell your friends!