Take Me Away

I have been blessed to spend all my days in a biblically-based, church-attending, ministry-focused, Christ-honoring home.  The older I get, the more grateful I become for this.

Since I have spent many hours in the House of God, under the preaching of God's Word, there have been different passages read that I didn't quite understand-- even misunderstanding them as I read them during my own Bible reading times.  One such passage is John 15.  As a quick recap and reminder, this is the passage of Scripture that draws much focus to the importance of abiding in Christ.  More specifically, seeing ourselves as a branch that desperately needs to abide in Christ the Vine.  The passage in its entirety is quite encouraging and comforting.  I mean, who doesn't love verse nine?

"As the Father loved Me, I also have loved you; abide in My love."

But before we get to that friendly verse, we have verse two that we have to get around.

"Every branch in Me that does not bear fruit, He takes away."

Now, this is one of those verses that always confused me.  I heard many (well meaning) lessons and sermons about how if someone wasn't bearing fruit, the Lord would just cut them off and take them away.  Quite frankly, it always made me a little uncomfortable and even discouraged.  If ever my Bible reading lead me to this passage, I would just read through that verse quickly, not giving it much thought.  I mean, who wants to think about Jesus cutting you away from the God-Vine?!  Not this girl, that's for sure!

However, I have the most wonderful news for you:  this verse is perhaps the most precious and tender verses in all of Scripture.

Wait..... whaaaaaat....?

We see that "takes away" and get all panicky.  That is the part that makes me nervous.  Yet a better, more accurate translation would be to say "every branch that does not bear fruit, He lifts up".

OK.  I'm starting to settle down a bit. But what does that mean?

We get a better picture when we read on into verse three:

 "You are already clean because of the word which I have spoken to you."  

Obviously, there are believers who are abiding and thriving right up close to the vine.  Their hearts are clean and don't really need any extra gardening from the Master Vinedresser.  These branches are already bearing their fruit because the Word of God is actively in their hearts and minds.  They are clean!

So then comes this picture that Christ is trying to paint for us in John 15:2...  There is a branch that is growing.  Kind of.  I mean, if you even want to call it "growing".  Sometimes there are branches that, for whatever reason-- be it lack of Sonshine, not enough Water [from the Word], or even simply exhaustion-- these wilted branches have floundered down low near the ground, away from the Heart of the Vine.  These poor branches are getting trampled by passerbyers, stifled from the warmth and nourishment from the Son by the well-meaning branches already thriving overhead.  And they don't stand much of a chance.

Oh, but then.  But then.

The Loving Vinedresser sees these worn, tired branches pressed down deep into the dirt.  And what does He do?  He oh-so-graciously, oh-so-tenderly reaches down-- into the filth and grime and shame-- and He washes off each leaf, lovingly binding it up close to the Heart of the Vine.  He binds this seemingly forgotten branch up where it is able to be sheltered and nourished and strengthened,  where this branch can now safely and confidently begin to bear fruit once again.  Fruit fit for the Master's table.

*sigh*

Isn't that just the breath of fresh air that every heart has needed at some point in our journey?  Who among us hasn't felt like that forgotten, withered, fruitless branch?  And just. like. that.  The Vinedresser comes alongside and washes away our dirt and bugs, He scrubs away the grime of life-- and sometimes that is uncomfortable.  But it is always best.   And He is determined to keep us close to the Vine.  Close so that we can bear fruit and thrive!  Close so that we can abide.

And now that I know the tenderness of this act of "taking away"-- taking away from the dirt, taking away from the trampling, taking away from the loneliness of being far from the Vine-- I now look forward to "stumbling" upon John 15, whether in my own quiet time with the Lord or during a Bible lesson in the Lord's House.  I love being reminded of the care that my Vinedresser has.  For me.

How this verse now whispers in my heart and brings to my mind the desperate plea of the hymn writer of old:

Abide with me; fast falls the eventide;

The darkness deepens; Lord, with me abide;

When other helpers fail and comforts flee,

Help of the helpless, oh, abide with me.

Jesus, take me away.

But I don't want to

I have three sweet precious gifts from the most Gracious God.  These babies fill my heart and day with more joy than I could ever have imagined was possible.  They have an innocent hope and zest for life that often causes me to just catch my breath with the deepest of love.

   

However.

As every parent out there is able to give a witness, in addition to the countless hours of blessings and love and joy, there are also times when these precious Sweet Ones can work a nerve.

My youngest Sweet One is currently two years old.  [And I don't even have to write anything else for every person who has ever had the briefest interaction with a two-year-old to understand exactly what "currently two years old" means.]  And added to the standard "currently a two year old" package, someone decided to upgrade to "also a miracle baby" with a side of "yep, he's the youngest".  So.  We are getting the opportunity for a LOT of learning moments in la casa de Gibson these days.

One of the things that both annoys and entertains me simultaniously is the moments when I have asked this Sweet Sweet to hand me something-- perhaps he has something that he shouldn't, or it is time to put away a toy or a cup or a blow torch.  [I'm kidding.  We don't let our kiddos play with the blow torches until they're at least seven.  Kidding.]  And this is usually how the exchange goes:

Mama:  Hand the cup to mama.
Sweet Sweet:  [throws it to the floor, directly beside him/me]
Mama:  Samuel, pick it up and hand it to mama.
Sweet Sweet:  [weeping]
Mama:  Samuel, pick up the cup and hand it to mama.

More weeping, pointing to said cup, and unintelligible moaning that I can only assume is an attempt to explain why he couldn't possibly pick up the cup.

Mama:  [taking the Sweet Sweet by his hand, gently pulling the hand towards the cup]  Pick. Up. This. Cup. Please.

Suddenly, my Sweet Sweet has lost all use of his fingers.  Suddenly, his hand no longer possesses the fine motor skills needed to grasp a small object.  I literally have his hand on the cup.  And he literally will not grasp the cup.

More weeping.  More moaning.

Mama:  Buddy.  It is right there.  Pick up the cup.

What is the miraculous healing for loss of motor skills?  For my precious Sweet Sweet, his healing comes with an ever slight *smack* to the cutest, chubbiest little thighs you've ever seen.  Granted, there is still weeping, possibly even an additional moan or two, but he picks up the cup and {grudgingly} hands it to me.

I share these moments from my Sweet Ones because I also want to share how it relates to my own heart and life.  As I have been spending my time with the Lord in recent days, my heart has felt quite a bit like Samuel-- there has been weeping, pointing, and unintelligible moaning.  I don't want to pick up my "cup".  It doesn't matter that it is right there.  I don't wanna.  It's not that I have suddenly lost the ability to do what needs to be done.  No, the bottom line is that I have a sinful, willful heart.  And I simply don't want to do it.  I would rather grunt and groan and weep than take that big step into obedience.

But Jesus is working on that with me, every so graciously as He is prone to do.  In fact, I have had several different "themes" that I have used to help keep me on the right track in recent years.  One year, it was #theyearofthanks.  Most recently, it was #unshakable.  As I've been considering what to select for this new school year, if I was honest, it would be #theyearofpitchingafit.  (I told you I didn't want to pick up my cup!)

But then the Lord gives my not-so-cute-but-unfortunatly-just-as-chubby thighs heart an ever slight *smack*.  My most recent smack came through the words of a gorgeous, conviction-packed worship hymn.  You might be familiar with it:  "O Great God".  If you haven't heard it, or it's been a while, or even if you just need a loving *smack* to your cute little thighs heart, take a moment to listen...

I don't think it is by any accident that the frame that is frozen there as the visual for the video are the very words that were the much-needed and loving *smack* from my Heavenly Father.


Keep my heart and guard my soul...

You are worthy to be praised with my every thought and deed.

I need to give my heart and will and soul to the One Who is able to guard me from the evils that I will and do face each day.  I need to be reminded that no matter what is happening in my life at any given moment, as a Child of the King, my one task is to glorify the Lord-- and to have Him be glorified through me.

So instead of #theyearofpitchingafit, the Lord has gently encouraged my heart to instead focus on #lookingforthanks.  This is something that I will need to learn, day after day.  And I learn by practicing it-- even if I don't want to do it.  I look for ways to be thankful.

Isaiah 1:17 says, "Learn to do good..."

Amos 5:14 further exhorts, "Seek good and not evil, that you may live;  So the Lord God of hosts will be with you..."

So take a deep breath.  
Put on your big girl pants.  
Remember that training is never easy.  

And for the love of all that is holy:

Pick.  Up.  The.  Cup.

Not "the cup".  No, this is mama's-- he has no problem picking up THAT one! ;)

Honor and Rejoicing

It is with mixed emotions that I jot out my thoughts in these next few moments.

In the aftermath of mother's day, my heart is very heavy-- very full, but also very heavy.

Before I share my heart any further, I want to urge you to hear me out completely before passing judgment or even brushing me off with indifference or indignation.

Several years ago I came across an article that kind of rubbed me more than a little the wrong way.  I can't remember who wrote the article, where I saw it, or even when it was exactly that I read it.  But the essence of the article from the words of the author was her anguish as a single woman and having to sit through a Mother's Day service at church.  She went on to share that one particular Mother's Day, she could stand it no longer, and when the pastor asked for all mothers to stand, so that they could honor these mothers, this woman chose to stand alongside the actual mothers.  If memory serves me correctly, she even stated that she felt it was her right.

Here, therein is where my rubbing began.

On Veteran's Day, when we ask our veterans to stand as we honor them on this, their designated day, no one even thinks twice about how it isn't fair to all the other people who were not eligible to serve in the military.  I've never read any passionate articles about how men or women felt so shunned by their exclusion that they were compelled to join in with the actual soldiers to have other people clap for them in appreciation for their service, for their fulfillment of the life that the Lord had called them.  In fact, it is against the law to impersonate an officer-- with fines being paid and up to 3 years in prison.  [Settle down, I am not saying that the a fore mentioned woman should go to jail.]

My point is this:  we apply honor to whom honor is due.

Somehow in our culture and society of this day, we have made it acceptable and even noteworthy for those persons who have had their feelings hurt or feel "left out" to climb up on their mountainous soapbox and boisterously proclaim that because they have been excluded from a particular group or activity, then no one should be allowed to participate in that particular group or activity.

And, most sad of all to my heart is this:  it is strikingly prevalent in the church.  Oh, we are all about weeping with those who weep.  I mean, we will send cards of sympathy, bake those casseroles, and pray fervently for a loss or defeat or devastation.  All the while, weeping sympathetically with our brother or sister.

However.  Oh, how.e.ver.  We are quick to neglect or forget or overlook the second part of that verse.

Rejoice with those who rejoice.

That's the hard one.  And this struggle isn't something that is new.  Remember Cain and Abel?  Oh, there was plenty of weeping.  Anybody rejoicing with Abel on his acceptance from God?  Um, no.

So that brings me back to Mother's Day.  Do you know what was at the forefront of my mind most of this special day?  Was it my mother and all the wonderful things that she has sacrificed and given and taught and loved and shown and lived for so many throughout her lifetime?  Was it my mother-in-law who painstakingly and relentlessly determined to rear and train three sons, all on her own without any assistance from father or government?  Was my mind filled with my own three sweet blessings and all that the Lord had brought me through, saving lives and sparing children?

No.

My mind was filled-- and reminded as I scrolled through all sorts of social media-- with the inflicted guilt that the Lord has ordained my steps in one particular direction and ordained the steps of others in a different path.  A path that was not the choice of so many.  A path that seems so empty and not at all what had been planned in the mind for so long.

I felt guilty even sharing pictures of my sweet children and all they did to honor me.  I felt guilty wishing others "happy mother's day!" as I went to church.  I even looked around guiltily when others wished me "happy mother's day!", fearing that someone would overhear and be offended with my joy and title and task entrusted to me and asked of me by the Lord.

And you know what?  That isn't right.  [Also, you thought I had offended you in the previous statements?  Hang on, it's about to get worse.]

When you complain about how unfair it is that you aren't a mother and how insensitive it is for me to rejoice in my motherhood, what you are actually saying is this:

"God, You don't know what You're doing.  You made a mistake with my life.  It isn't fair for her to show her joy and rejoice in her calling."

I don't say this out of spite or resentment or "better than thou" ideas.  I say this because it is what God's Word says.   How can Ephesians command us to honor our mothers, but then you plead with all those around you not to rejoice in their motherhood?   How can Romans urge the Body to rejoice with others, but then you get to determine about what we are to rejoice with others?

So, on this first day of a new year before the next Mother's Day, I would urge you, sweet friend.  Ask the Lord to help you to be content with the life that He has intimately and intricately predestined.  For you.  Ask the Lord to strengthen the hearts and arms and minds of those mothers that you envy.  Their work is hard.  The Evil One would love nothing more than to snatch the souls of their sweet ones away from the arms of the Father.

Encourage the Body.  Edify the Saints.  Exercise your gifts.  Enjoy your life.

And in conclusion, without any sort of guilt or remorse, I boldly share with you the sweet souls that the Lord has entrusted to me to train and lead and guide for eternity:

 

Will you pray with me that as they come behind me,

they will find their Mama to be faithful?

Sweet Birthday Boy

I'm officially old.  I mean, not like "97 and ready for a nursing home" old, but... well, to the point in my life where I totally get that warning I was given just a few years ago:

Be careful!  The time just flies on by you without you even knowing it.

Wow.zers.  

My sweet baby boy just turned two a couple days ago.  Where did two years... of my life-- of his life-- just go?!

This kid cracks me right up...  He was so proud of his skills.

But God is good.  My Samuel is a precious visual reminder of the reward of trusting in the divine plan of a Loving God.  And these have been good years.  Two hard, life-changing, grace-filled, good years.

We had originally planned to go back to the hospital to give cupcakes to our God-given helpers.  However, one of my sweet ones had pink eye-- and my very wise hubby suggested that perhaps taking a pink-eyed child to the ICU wasn't the most thoughtful of gestures-- even if I had cupcakes. 

              
Sweet birthday boy in his sweet birthday shirt.  Loves that Monkey!

So, instead we decided to have a fantastic family day.  Our day started with a yummy breakfast-- pancakes are my Sweet Sweet's favorite, you know.  After that, we braved Target, allowing the two big ones to select the most perfect gift for the littlest-- a drum set and a car driving steering wheel.  Pretty sure there were a couple of new balls thrown in the shopping cart, too.  I mean, what's a trip to Target without purchasing at least 7 items you don't really need?!

We grabbed the most perfect cupcake cake for my ball-loving little man:

 

Being the very wise mama that I am, we saved it to share with all of his friends at church (you know, so mama didn't have 2 dozen cupcakes topped with 3 gallons of icing hanging around my house all day Saturday).  

       
Yah, he loved it.  And I let him eat an entire cupcake.  And frosting.

The day before his birthday was a bit of a celebration as mama and the two boys went on a field trip to The Virginia Living Museum.  So fantastic.  This sweet boy's eyes were so busy, watching and looking and learning.

   
Love those little fingers, touching and learning.

 
What kind of a mom be if we didn't get a treat?!

 
Sweet brother wanted to make sure to get some gifts for the pink-eye sister.

 But life is good.  No, God is good.  My sweet Samuel reminds me of this.  My sweet, snuggly, spoiled-rotten gift from God.  He is the one who God hears.   May I train him to listen to God.

Faux Pho!

I love international food.  I love comfort food.  I love food.  *grins*  And as a little thought-for-free, I am also learning to love and even crave healthy food.  Color me amazed, I know!

Seeing as most of the modern world is in the thralls of cold and flu season-- and our family is deep in that thrall-- I felt it would be appropriate and helpful to have some chicken soup up in la casa de Gibson.  However, I also wanted something at least leaning towards the exciting side.  So Old Mother Hubbard Gibson looked through my pantry and came up with this lovely concoction:

It was quick, it was easy, and it is DEEEEEE-LISH.  Score.  Now, keep in mind, I just grabbed things that I had, and I am an eye-baller by nature.  So I will do my best to give as close as possible measurements.  Just go with it...

Here's what you need:

1/2 cup diced carrots
1/2 cup diced celery
1/2 of an onion, diced
2 tablespoons minced garlic
1 tablespoon soy sauce
1 teaspoon dried oregano
1 tablespoon chicken bouillon
One "chunk" of rice noodles
4 boneless, skinless chicken thighs
2-3 cups hot water
3 cups water, boiled and then removed from heat
Small bag of frozen peas

I cooked the thighs in a pan with a little salt, pepper, and onion powder.  After they were finished, I took them out of the skillet, let them "rest" on a plate, and then used the same skillet to cook the veggies.  (I saved the juices from the chicken and added it to the soup after it was all mixed.)  After the chicken has slightly cooled, dice it up to add to the soup in just a few minutes.

In one tablespoon olive oil, saute the carrots, celery, and onion.  I usually start with the carrots because they take longer to get soft, then add the celery and onion.  Cook until tender and onion starts to be translucent.  Then add garlic and cook a little longer (Don't burn your garlic.  That is disgusting, in my humble opinion...).  Add oregano and soy sauce, stirring well until mixed.  Sprinkle dried bouillon and then add the 2 cups of hot water.

In a separate pan, bring the 3 cups of water to a boil, add the "chunk" of noodles and then remove from heat.  I  covered the pot and left for about 10 minutes.  The noodles will soften and start to separate.  Once the noodles have cooked, add the vegetable mix (from the other pan/pot) into the noodle pot.  Do NOT drain the noodles... you need the water! :)  Add in diced chicken and gently stir to incorporate and season to taste.  Now, I believe at this point, I sprinkled a little more chicken bouillon into the pot and added just a touch of salt.  But just taste it and adjust accordingly.  The beautiful thing is that it's soup!  So you can add more water if it's too strong (yay for my Keurig that gives me hot water at the touch of a button!!!) or more bouillon if it's not "soupy" tasting enough.  And, again with my honesty:  I didn't measure all of the water as I was brewing it and dumping it into the pot.  I'm just trying to recall through my foggy brain how many "dumps" I did.  Just taste it! :)  And don't forget to add those drippings from your chicken thighs back into the soup for even more yummy flavor!!!

Once I dished up the soup for my sweet ones, I added some frozen peas to their bowls.  The frozen peas cool down their soup without watering it down, thaws/cooks the peas, AND adds a little more veggie action to their meal.  Eh, eh, eh...  How great is THAT?!

  After I took a picture of my soup, 

the big kiddos asked me to take a picture of their soup, too.

Ellie said, "It makes me happy!" and Daniel said, "I want to look like I'm chewing."

There are no words for how much I love them.   

I did dump the remainder of the bag of peas right into the pot after serving the sweet ones, leaving the soup on simmer before serving myself and my hubby (who actually didn't eat until almost 2 hours later because he was working in the office).  It was so yummy.  And I actually DID feel better after eating it. 

I hope you love it as much as we did.  There weren't any leftovers, so I can't tell you how it holds up the next day.  However, what I can tell you is that I will definitely be making this again! :)

NOTE:  I am aware that I stated "one chunk of rice noodles".  Remember, I just used what I had... I had a previously opened package of noodles in a zip-lock bag, so I honestly don't even remember the brand that I used.  However, I did weigh the noodles on a food scale before cooking, and the "chunk" weighed 5 ounces.  I'm thinking it was half of a package similar to the one linked in the ingredients. 

With such things as you have

As most of you realize, I have three precious, wonderful, gifts from the Lord.  My Sweet Ones.  My babies.  The loves of my life.  I. Love. Them.  No, seriously.  There is so much love in my heart that I need a stronger word than simply "love" to describe and explain just how deeply, desperately I agape and phileo them.

 

They love each other.  They love being with each other.  

They love.  

That is who they are, 

and that is one of the things that just moves me to my very core, 

every. single. time I look at them-- 

or even have a thought of them throughout my day.

 

In case you couldn't tell, the big ones are extra in love with the littlest.

*sigh*

          

 

 But sometimes they drive me crazy.  I mean:  craaaaa.zzzzzzy.  [And I am usually a big fan of NOT using extra letters to make a point, but there was no other option in my attempt to get across just how massive that level of crazy can get.]

 

How I look on the inside.

Yah, this pretty much sums it up rather nicely.

I told you:  CRA.ZY.

Anywhoo....

I have been The Mama for about six and half glorious years to date.  And up until just very recently, my prayers for my children and my mothering has been something similar to this:

Dear Jesus,

Please help me to be the mama that I need to be for my children.  I just want them to be more like You.  I want my babies to love Jesus and do what is right- no matter what.  Lord, please help my sweet ones to listen and learn and become who you would have them to be.  Father, PLEASE change them-- and me.

However, the Lord has stopped my heart.  Right in its little tracks.

The Big Kids are both participating in soccer, so during practice I will frequently pass the time by pushing Littlest in his stroller-- more often than not rehearsing that little prayer over and over as I watch my Sweet One having the time of his life, but not really controlling his body as much as I would like. I would catch myself cringing so many times, trying to telepathically will my baby to behave as I had told and retold and reminded so many times. Shamefully, I spent most of this soccer season [they finish up in just a couple of week] focusing on and praying for my son to be someone else.  Someone that *I* thought he needed to be.

And theeeeeeeere's the track-stopping.

I was pushing the Littlest, and I literally stopped in my tracks and started to weep as I listened to the Holy Spirit convict me to my innermost part.

"Be content with such things as you have."

"I have learned in whatsoever state I am in: 

therewith to be content."

It was like the Spirit was saying to me: "Leah!  Be content with who your child is right now.  *I* will make him who he needs to be in *MY* timing, on *MY* terms."

And, immediately, I changed that familiar prayer.  Without even realizing it, I was, in essence, presenting to God Almighty the mold and requirements of exactly who and what my children needed to be.  You know, 'cause I'm so super smart and have it all together and all.

Instead, I looked at that lively child on the field and confidently prayed through my tears, "Lord, thank you for who that sweet boy is right now.  Please help me to be content with who he is right now."

Then, the most remarkable thing happened.  I started smiling as I watched.  And every time he would jump up and down like a chicken (no, seriously) or roll around on the ground after having "fallen", I would stop my critical spirit and say, "Lord, thank You for who my son is.  Please help me to be content with who is right now."  I would cheer loudly and proudly, and simply enjoy the moment for what it was.

So while I am still training my children in the admonition of the Lord.  And, obviously, there are consequences for unbiblical behaviors, but I am learning to just let them be.  I am learning to ask myself if I am cranky with the behavior because it is sinful or because it is silly.

And how I pray that I will continue to listen to that Still, Small Voice as God the Holy Spirit seeks to lead The Mama-- even more than she wants Him to lead the Sweet Ones.

 

And, come on.

How can you not love that face?! 

I am content with such things as I have.

Gibson Family Challenge

Originally my plan was to post every couple of days about the different things we had committed to do  as family for 30 days.  But you may also remember that I had the not so brilliant idea to do 30 things for 30 days.  [Every day I thanked the Lord that I listened to the Holy Spirit and did NOT do 30 things, but instead whittled my list down to a measly 11 items.]  I was so busy with the challenge that there was no time for the blogging!

My favorite and most consistent goals were acts of kindness, missionary cards, and new recipes. So I thought I'd give a little recap of some of the great things we had going on...

Wonderful garden helpers!

 

Ellie Rose, learning how to cook some scrambled eggs.

 

Daniel was super excited to help snap some green beans.


     
Samuel has corn on the cob for the first time!
Verdict is in:  LOVED IT!

     

Plum. Jam.  (There are no words for how much I love this!)

This is the recipe that I used, but I left the peels on to enhance the flavor and color.

 

First comes the peach...

  

Then comes the jam...

  

Then comes a happy camper!

 

Chocolate Chocolate Chip Pancakes 

 

This is the recipe that I loosely followed.  Love butter beans! 

        

One of our good friends from church works so faithfully, 

so we made and delivered some fresh peanut butter cookies.

This recipe was truly perfect.  I just added a splash of almond extract.

    

We made come muffins for the ladies in the finance office 

of the dealership where we got our "new to us" cars.

    

Surprise birthday tea party for Ellie...

Cucumber dill sandwiches, angel food cake with peach topping,

Strawberry cream cheese sandwiches, and pink covered pretzels.



First try of canning tomatoes, sauce, and salsa.
Looking forward to winter! :)

Freezer full of strawberries, peaches, and blueberries.
Smoothies, anyone?!

I loved listening to my children pray for missionaries, friends, neighbors, and people we don't even know yet.  Daniel and Ellie were so faithful to draw pictures, write notes, and send treats to a variety of people.  I must admit that participating in acts of kindness is certainly something that I want to incorporate into a regular part of our family life-- perhaps on a weekly basis now that school is underway.  I love seeing my children bless others!