Answers to Prayer

Are you as guilty as I am? You pray about this, that and the other. Sometimes out of habit, sometimes passionately. “This” is your main focus. You want is so badly. You pray daily…thrice daily…hourly. No answer, no answer, no answer. But “that” gets answered. Only you don’t think much about it. Because there’s still “this”… And my All Sovereign, Loving God gets no glory once again.

And so I am sitting here to give God glory. First, I will say that “this” has not yet been answered. I pray for it a lot. I long for it. I hope for it. It’s a bit scary, but God knows how much I want the road blocks to go away. How much I want Him to clear the path. How I long for a sure “this is the way, walk ye in it”. But just because He is not saying yes to “this” right now does not mean He should be shorted any glory for “that”.

Because salvation is from God. And God alone. And salvation is something we all pray for. The salvation of parents, the salvation of brothers and sisters, the salvation of friends, the salvation of orphans in Kenya. If you’re like me, sometimes you’ve prayed for salvation for a soul for so long it seems it will never happen, you convince yourself it’s impossible and you even stop praying. I feel that way about a lot of people. Some days it’s only because Ethan pulls the request for “Salvation for our family and friends” out of the prayer box that it crosses my mind at all. Which is sad. Because God does answer prayer.

The request in our box is generic. I think we’d fill the whole prayer box and then some if we wrote down the names of every “family and friends” we know are not saved. And sometimes when we pray we’re specific, but God can answer generic. He doesn’t need specifics. Because He alone knows who is actually His and who is not. And He answers prayers.

Last week I talked to a good friend in Minnesota. Although we text, it’s been at least a year since we had talked. It was far too brief a conversation, but it was a staggering one. Because she told me God had saved her husband’s soul. I was stunned. Wasn’t her husband already saved? I hadn’t had a chance to get to know him really well while I was in Minnesota, but I thought…she had never indicated differently…had I completely missed something? But, no. She had not realized either. Until recently. God had a laid a prayer on her heart, the prayer of salvation for someone. When she realized “someone” was her husband, God was already at work! She said what happened was amazing!

When I told Ed the story, he asked a few questions and then remarked, “Well, isn’t that what we pray for in our prayer box? The salvation of our family and friends?”

I hadn’t thought of that, but he was right. We do pray for that. Most of the time, I have a face or name in my head, but how do I know whom God may save? How do I know how God may answer a prayer? He is sovereign. He is good. He saves.

To God be the glory!

More on Emry

I realize I blog more about Emry than I do Ethan. But Emry is at that age where she can do the funniest things. And Ethan…well, he’s just pulled everything out of my cupboard again, fallen over and hit his head again, pulled something out of the trash again – you get the idea.

Last week with Emry it was a Band-Aid. Unlike many children, Emry is not fascinated with Band-Aids. However, I had one on because it was one of those weeks where every finger had a paper cut on it. I put a Band-Aid on a really bad one when I went to work that morning because I knew I would be folding a lot of paper and did not wish to re-open the cut and get blood all over the very nice community master plans I was binding. I still had it on when I put Emry down for a nap that afternoon, so she wanted one, too. Off she scurried to find her Star Wars Band-Aids, muttering to herself that she needed to find the trees (aka: arrows) on the wrapper so she could pull the package apart and then pull off the backs. That done, she handed it to me and showed me the finger it needed to go on which was the right pointer. Most kids would now consider themselves fully recovered from their scratch. Instead, a look of distress came over her face and she almost started crying.

“Mama, these fingers don’t work!”

She wiggled the fingers of her right hand the Band-Aid was not on.

“They don’t work!” she cried again.

“Emry, what doesn’t work?” I asked. For the fingers could obviously wiggle. Did she mean they all needed Band-Aids? Or the one she had on needed to go on another finger? As she was getting more upset by the second, I was trying to understand as quickly as possible.

“They don’t work!” Her distress was rising, but this time she gestured with the fingers in an attempt to put them in her mouth. And a light came on!

The ultrasound picture we have of Emry has her with her left hand up over her forehead as if she’s some sort of drama-queen actress about to faint. She was only a couple of months old when that gesture returned except across her nose and combined with putting her right pointer and middle fingers into her mouth to suck for comfort. When she’s upset or tired, her right fingers go in her mouth while her left arm goes up over her nose. It’s always both gestures – never one or the other. And since she was tired and about to go down for a nap…well, a Band-Aid on her right pointer finger was distressing. She couldn’t put it in her mouth and the other fingers “wouldn’t work”.

So, I moved the Band-Aid to her left pointer finger, she cuddled up in my lap, popped her right fingers in her mouth, her left arm up over her nose, heaved a great sigh of relief…and everything in her three-year-old world was right once again.

My Little Samson

I know of one little boy named Samson. I can completely understand why this is not a common name among Christians. After all, no one really wants their son to grow up and become a liar, awful tempered, vengeful playboy who sleeps with every available woman possible. And yet does not Samson give us hope? God chose him from the womb…and he gets an honorable mention in Hebrews 11 among the other greats of the Old Testament. Proof that God can use anyone.

Still, I don’t think I will go out and name my next son Samson. Maybe because I don’t need to. I think I’m living with one.

Like his sister, Ethan is small in size. At 14 months, he’s plateaued at wearing 9-month clothes. Most people are surprised to see him walking about quite confidently, for he’s smaller than any other 1-year old he’s around. Yet, he’s quite stocky and solid in build. His hands foretell at least a decent size full grown. And his strength astounds me.

For his birthday, his Sturm grandparents gave him a gate to block the stairway (and, so, save him from an early death in some vain attempt at mounting the steps headlong). Because we have an odd staircase, we ended up with a fence that wraps around the stairs and in front of most of my bookcase. (A surprise blessing since he had just started pulling books off the shelf several times a day.) This fence is heavy but easy to pivot and maneuver, so blocking various locations when I don’t want him underfoot. For now. Because whenever I do this, he comes up to the fence and almost pushes it right out of the way. Like Samson trying to get away from the Philistines. Wall? What wall? I’ll just take the whole city gate!

Or today when I went to get him up from his nap. At naptimes, he sleeps in our finished basement in the pack-and-play (instead of in the room with Emry where his crib is). He’s quite safe – can’t possibly climb out of it with the mesh sides that rise up to his chin. And if you’ve ever tried to take one of those apart, you know that a PhD and Samson-like strength are basic requirements. But apparently he can shake it enough to shift it. For today he had shifted it nearly perpendicular to it’s usual location. Before I know it, he’ll have somehow shifted it across the room!

Tomorrow

Time is elusive. If you didn’t already know that, ask any child. Today, tomorrow, yesterday, last night...it means all about the same thing. And a moment? That equals eternity.

Strangely enough, Emry has a rather good sense of time. She understands today. She knows that tomorrow is later than today. And she knows that last night (which also means yesterday to her) is before today. Hence the conversation in the car last week.

Emry has a favorite CD in the car: Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. (Wonder where she gets that from? I mean, I only have every soundtrack version of it…) So, it’s quite normal that she climbs in, gets bored and asks, “Papa, I listen to Beauty and the Beast?”

As you can imagine, Ed is not as big a fan as Emry and me. This time, stalling to switch it on, he says to me, “We need more options.”

I think about other options I have. My CDs are at home, but my ancient iPod (from 2006) is in the car, chocked full of music. And one song Emry loves: Tomorrow from the musical Annie.

“Emry,” I ask, pulling the iPod from the console, “would you like to listen to Tomorrow?”

“No!” Emry groans. “I want to listen to it today!”

Emry's 3rd Birthday!

Tuesday was Emry’s 3^rd birthday! In so many ways, it is hard to believe our little girl has been with us for three years. Three fast years! Through joys. Through frustrations. Through happy moments. Through hard ones. Truly, a little blessing.

I think she had a special birthday. Her favorite foods. New books, new clothes, new toys. And lots of people to celebrate with: Ethan, us, grandparents. Plus, a weekend of wonderful sun and warmth in the midst of the cold and snow!

 Celebrating on Tuesday with a special breakfast – a donut!

More Little People for her princess castle.

Lots of new clothes made by Grandma and Aunt Jenny.

 And best of all: strawberry cake!

To Emry

Little Girl,

Today you are three year old! When you woke up this morning, I asked you what today is. Your whole face lit up as you grinned, “My birthday!” When I asked you how old you are, you answered as you always do, “Emry is two.” But I shook my head no and said, “Today Emry is three!” You smiled happily and stated, “Emry is three!”

This past year has gone by so quickly, little girl. And you have changed sooo much, yet sometimes it is hard to know when that change has come. You have grown, even though you remain a tiny thing for your age. No wonder. For even though you eat very well, you play even harder – ever dancing about, ever moving, loving to run more than walk. But you do love to go on “walks and runs”. And I’m glad.

Your memory continues to astound me. I ever have to watch what I tell you because you will remember. You have memorized Psalm 23 and we are working on Psalm 122. Many of your Biscuit books you can read to your “friends” (stuffed animals) verbatim. You know how to count to 14; love to sing your ABCs, My God is so Big and Holy, Holy, Holy; and know how to spell your name. This past fall we started “school”. You love to do your worksheets. You hold your pencil well, are learning to trace and even wrote the letter E (for Emry!) by yourself the other day. You know your sounds for letters A though M, all your colors and shapes. We will have our struggles, but I am glad you like to learn.

You also love to do “crafts”. I say that loosely since I am not “crafty” so the things we do are pretty simple. Mostly you love to cut and paste (mostly paste since you’re not too good with scissors yet). You also love to paint, mostly with your fingers if possible.  But coloring? You’re like your mama. You do okay with a coloring page. But a blank sheet of paper? You always ask for stickers…

Your imagination grows and grows. It makes me laugh to see you play out your days, telling your “friends” to pick up their toys, or take them to the “store”, or make cookies. If you could, you would spend hours reading with me…and then you play out your stories: “painting” or playing “let go” (tug-of-war) like Biscuit or making butterflies like Fancy Nancy. But you have your own games, too. Every Tuesday afternoon when all the local fliers come in the mail showing the weekly specials, they end up spread out all over the living room so you can run and jump on your “beach”.

This year has meant a lot of new things for you. You are learning to be a big sister. Most of the time, you are a good sister to Ethan. You show him how to do things, keep him from hurting himself too much and love having him around. Of course, there are moments…but that’s what siblings are for. You’ve spent time with your rambunctious boy cousins and didn’t mind at all that they are a bit rough. You’re in a new Sunday School class, go to story time, overcame your fear of swings and you even try to climb sometimes. I’m glad you’re cautious. But I’m also glad that you’re not afraid of people or new places. I hope those are qualities you will always have.

Most of all, little girl, I am glad to see you grow and learn about the most important Person ever: Jesus. You can tell me Bible stories, you love to talk about Jesus on the cross and how “He came out!” (or, as most people would say, “He is risen!”) Just today when I was teasing Ethan and asked him who loves him you called out, “Jesus! Jesus loves Ethan! And Emry. And Mama. And Papa.” It feels my heart with joy that Jesus is teaching you about Him. For one day you will know that your parents are not perfect and have very little in this world to give you, but I pray you can at least say we taught you about Jesus.

For you need Jesus, Emry. Even though you can be so sweet, and so happy, and such a blessing; you can also be so stubborn, and often disobedient, and you do know how to push some of Mama’s buttons. You are a sinner. You are bad. And you need Jesus to teach you to be good. Just as we all do.

I love you, little girl, and I am so blessed God has given us yet another year with you. May there be many, many more.

Love, Mama

Easter!

As Emry would say, “He came out!” (Interpretation: “He is risen!”)

We had a very nice Easter. The Saturday before we went up to the mall. Emry first searched for candy and quarters in straw at Rural King. Unsure of what she was doing and not at all competitive, she achieved a few pieces and one quarter. Then we went to JC Penney where she joined an Easter egg hunt. Funny enough, she cared very little about the eggs once she saw the Easter bunny. All she wanted to do was follow him around – and I thought she might be scared!

Emry and the Easter Bunny.

When we got home, we decorated eggs. I had seen on Pinterest a way to decorate eggs with food coloring and shaving cream. When the blogger suggested whipping cream worked just as well…as Ed would say, “Sold!” Since Ethan puts everything into his mouth, something edible was preferable. For, yes, he ate it.

Ethan “decorating” eggs.

Emry dying her eggs.

Easter Sunday began cold and grey. It continued to be cold, but the sun came out and it was a lovely day to celebrate the resurrection of our Savior! We went up to the West End overlook and took pictures.

Emry and Ethan dressed for Easter!

After afternoon naps all around, we put on jackets and went outside to find the eggs. Ethan found a few, but once he discovered something edible in them he plopped down and ate. Emry cheerfully found the rest and then plopped down to count how many she had gotten. Perfect examples of their little personalities.

 Easter eggs!!!

Happy 2^nd Birthday, Benito!

 

Benito making sure his cousin Ethan does not go up the steps!