Mimi, have I got news for you. There are sixteen peanuts and eighteen other ingredients in a Snickers bar. (Are you rolling your eyes at me?)
We were driving home from a frantic morning when I discovered one in the console, where your daddy had hid the naughty thing. I was famished, sure that, as your Papa says, my belly button was scratching my backbone, despite being six months pregnant. I checked on you in the rear-view mirror and then went for it. Forgive me, I am the kind of mom who finagles chocolate. Driving one-handed, I impressively rammed my left hand between the seat and door, and tore it open. To my disappointment, it was frozen solid. With my mouth hidden somewhere in my left armpit, I gnawed off a piece, ignoring the risks of broken tooth, getting caught, and oh – being a driving hazard.
That’s how this whole week has felt. This time, when you are so young, should be simple, since we have no where to be. But it’s not. I run from here to there, sometimes never leaving the house, but feeling overwhelmingly hurried. It doesn’t have to be this way. I envy your dad, a phenomenally hard worker, in his ability to shut off the frazzle. Every night after dinner, he does the dishes (thank you Jesus), and then proceeds to the living room floor where he lays down, arms out, awaiting two little people to play wrestle-mania and airplane with, until I nag that we shouldn’t get too hyped-up before bedtime.
I don’t know what the frazzle will be for you. For me, it’s strongly correlated to my laptop, iPad, and iPhone, sometimes used all at once. My wheels are spinning. This is not the example I want to set for you, nor is it fun for me. I crave simplicity and focus.
By no coincidence, on the same day of the sneaky Snicker incident, I discovered Smarty Bars . Be sure, I have consumed enough Powerbars and goop while running, that I don’t eat smart-anything unless I’ve got 10 miles under my belt, and even then, I tend towards jellybeans. I only clicked on the link because I greatly admire the woman behind them. When I found the ingredients page, I was fully expecting the typical unpronounceable 20+ items. Instead, there were four. FOUR. The quest for simple living has begun, as I’m going to SmartyBar my console. Next time you catch me snacking, I’ll be proud to share.
Your mama is going to Smarty Bar her life too. Four priorities to pour myself into and be filled up by: God, marriage, kids, and… walnuts. Really. Walnuts are the fourth ingredient in my new health food, so might as well be in my life. See I don’t like walnuts enough to eat them by themselves, ever. But when mixed with other ingredients, as in my favorite home-made granola, walnuts are delectable. And when I look at all the other “stuff” in my life, all the other goals and desires, I need to ask myself – do they mix well with the first three, or am I trying to consume them all alone, leaving a bad taste in my mouth?
Mimi, you can do all things through Christ*, but you won’t achieve anything trying to accomplish everything. Stay focused my love.
*Philippians 4:13 “I can do all things through Him who strengthens me.”
Smarty Bars
He Does
Addiction- it makes my heart so heavy. It’s not the poor choices, or the waste of life that upsets me as much as the bondage. I mourn over the chains. As someone who is incapable of giving up caffeine for a mere nine months while pregnant, I cannot imagine the captivity of more serious addictions.
This past holiday season I became aware of a few acquaintances enslaved in this way. It’s hopeless.
And that’s the mindset you caught me in, Mimi, feeling hopeless over what cannot be changed, as we reviewed the verse of the week. Honestly, I thought this verse was a dud. “Jesus did many miracles.” (John 20:30) Duh. Of course He did, why did I even choose this verse? Regardless, you had already bestowed your glitter glue talents on the oversized memory verse card, so it was too late to turn back.
I begrudgedly prompted you to recite it – and you got it almost right.
“Jesus does many miracles” you torted, “can we play a game now?”
That’s odd. Your wrong, but your right, I thought. The verse says He did, you said He does.
He did. He does. He will do. The Great I am.
One of the greatest perks of being a Christ-follower is that we get more hope. Hope in justice, hope in forgiveness, hope in mission: no-more-tears. What’s more, is that He came for the train-wrecks. Jesus didn’t come for those who have it all together – phew.
When He walked the earth, He sought out the loser, the flunky, the riffraff scum. He’s still doing it. How do I know? I’m one of them, in that He is turning me into someone it is not possible for me to be.
Mimi, someday you’ll have problems (several of which your mom caused), and you’ll have friends with even bigger issues. Never forget, He did, He does, and He will miraculously change those who cannot be changed, if only they earnestly seek Him.
This past holiday season I became aware of a few acquaintances enslaved in this way. It’s hopeless.
And that’s the mindset you caught me in, Mimi, feeling hopeless over what cannot be changed, as we reviewed the verse of the week. Honestly, I thought this verse was a dud. “Jesus did many miracles.” (John 20:30) Duh. Of course He did, why did I even choose this verse? Regardless, you had already bestowed your glitter glue talents on the oversized memory verse card, so it was too late to turn back.
I begrudgedly prompted you to recite it – and you got it almost right.
“Jesus does many miracles” you torted, “can we play a game now?”
That’s odd. Your wrong, but your right, I thought. The verse says He did, you said He does.
He did. He does. He will do. The Great I am.
One of the greatest perks of being a Christ-follower is that we get more hope. Hope in justice, hope in forgiveness, hope in mission: no-more-tears. What’s more, is that He came for the train-wrecks. Jesus didn’t come for those who have it all together – phew.
When He walked the earth, He sought out the loser, the flunky, the riffraff scum. He’s still doing it. How do I know? I’m one of them, in that He is turning me into someone it is not possible for me to be.
Mimi, someday you’ll have problems (several of which your mom caused), and you’ll have friends with even bigger issues. Never forget, He did, He does, and He will miraculously change those who cannot be changed, if only they earnestly seek Him.
The Aftermath
The recycle guy doesn’t like us. I know because he throws our bin half a block down when he’s done sorting. It’s no secret why – we’re determined to slip him contraband materials each and every week, just to see if he’ll take it. He never does. He only leaves it strewn about, I assume to make a point, and show the neighbors how naughty we are sneaking cereal boxes and codes of plastic 3 -7 into our blue bin.
In our defense, Mimi, I will remind you of your roots. You’re from Portlandia, where they’d recycle the diaper genie if you drew a bird on it and waved kindly. Regardless, our recycle man aint seen nothing yet. It’s the week after Christmas, so for the next six months I’ll be slipping holiday remnants his way, and not one piece of my corrugated cardboard will be cut into a 2’x2’ square and placed in a brown paper bag, the way he’d prefer.
If you follow the trail of wrapping paper and dried pine needles back into the house, you’ll find me, drowning in self-induced, December 26th, gluttony.
Now that it’s finally over, I don’t know where to start. But that’s the catcher. It’s not over. It just began. I recently caught you attempting to sound out a word in a book, and my heart leapt. Not because my considerable investment in Leap Frog has finally paid off, but because something paramount has just begun. You are learning to read. I delight in the sign of the beginning.
We just finished celebrating a girl having a baby in a stall. I wonder how she felt, as the months of being an unwed pregnant teenager came to fruition. It wasn’t the end, it was the beginning. She held the knowledge, stored in her heart, that her little peanut was our Mighty God, Prince of Peace, our All in All. She marveled. The only thing I’m marveling at is the loot we acquired. While I should be praising Him for His single miraculous gift, I’m left threatening to throw out old toys, while I send sarcastic texts to your uncle thanking him for the cardboard mansion he bestowed on you.
Lord help me. Help me to appreciate the enormity of the Gift given on Christmas. Forgive me for taking it for granted. I am in awe of how one baby in a stable changed eternity. Thank you.
But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.
Luke 2:19
In our defense, Mimi, I will remind you of your roots. You’re from Portlandia, where they’d recycle the diaper genie if you drew a bird on it and waved kindly. Regardless, our recycle man aint seen nothing yet. It’s the week after Christmas, so for the next six months I’ll be slipping holiday remnants his way, and not one piece of my corrugated cardboard will be cut into a 2’x2’ square and placed in a brown paper bag, the way he’d prefer.
If you follow the trail of wrapping paper and dried pine needles back into the house, you’ll find me, drowning in self-induced, December 26th, gluttony.
Now that it’s finally over, I don’t know where to start. But that’s the catcher. It’s not over. It just began. I recently caught you attempting to sound out a word in a book, and my heart leapt. Not because my considerable investment in Leap Frog has finally paid off, but because something paramount has just begun. You are learning to read. I delight in the sign of the beginning.
We just finished celebrating a girl having a baby in a stall. I wonder how she felt, as the months of being an unwed pregnant teenager came to fruition. It wasn’t the end, it was the beginning. She held the knowledge, stored in her heart, that her little peanut was our Mighty God, Prince of Peace, our All in All. She marveled. The only thing I’m marveling at is the loot we acquired. While I should be praising Him for His single miraculous gift, I’m left threatening to throw out old toys, while I send sarcastic texts to your uncle thanking him for the cardboard mansion he bestowed on you.
Lord help me. Help me to appreciate the enormity of the Gift given on Christmas. Forgive me for taking it for granted. I am in awe of how one baby in a stable changed eternity. Thank you.
But Mary treasured up all these things, pondering them in her heart.
Luke 2:19
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