Emily Cook's Blog, page 57

Escape of the Little People: Activity for Active Toddlers

Little people.When my girls were younger, this assortment of characters would entertain them for hours. People had pets, played school, had families, ate meals together, and had all manner of meaningful relationships.My boys see these wonderful toys and what do they think?Bo-ring.(Or, fun for throwing at each other or feeding to the dog, but that’s about it.)

It’s not about relationships for them. My boys want adventure. They want to explore, to fight bad guys, and to be heroes. 
And this is a good thing, really. I just read Wild at Heart, and I am inspired to encourage my little man-cubs in their masculinity. (I did not agree with everything in this book, but I think you should read it. If you’d like, read my review here.)

Perhaps, I thought, we can use these same toys in a new way. I schemed and plotted.. . . .
That evening, we noticed the Queen from the Land of Little People on our porch. “Odd,” I said. “This queen never comes outside. I wonder what she is doing here?”We stopped to visit her. “The queen is crying!” I said, horrified. “What, you don’t hear her? I guess only I can hear her voice. Would you like me to ask her what’s wrong?”I acted very serious as I had a one-sided conversation with the toy queen.
She and her husband had been happily overseeing their kingdom in our basement, the Land of Little People. The Little People had thrived in this land for as long as she could remember, and oh how sweet their days of schooling and farming had been. Lately, the citizens had grown more and more restless. Rumors circulated, The people had heard of a new and better land, somewhere by a great body of water. Last night, the citizens and their animals had run away in search of this new land.“They don’t understand!” sobbed the queen. “The land they sought was indeed beautiful, but it was also the home of evil coyotes that liked to snack on Little People!”What could we do? The queen begged our help.
My boys rose to the challenge. First, they visited their arsenal, and carefully chose a weapon for the occasion. A sword for one, a light saber for another, a crossbow for a third. One boy saw nothing that appealed to him, but he bravely stuck out his chest and declared, “If I see a coyote, I will just use my FISTS.”
We traveled to the faraway land (the pond across the road.)



The littlest man-cub, mostly just swung his sword at leaves. I'm sure his masculine display of strength scared away some of those coyotes.




The princess, hiding from danger in her tree.We saved her before she fell in the water.


This man-cub heard the queen's grateful cheers.

The king had climbed a tree to get a better view of the scattered citizens. He was relieved when we told him we'd gathered most of them.

The boys LOVED this activity. We have done it four more times since this day.  If you have little man-cubs with nothing to do, why not give this a try?
Have you been on any adventures with your little people lately? I'd love to hear from you!

Will you read a book with me?

There are certain books I like to read with a pen in my hand.
(Not novels. I read those for fun, like I watch TV.)

I'm talking about the books that try to change my life: the books I will spend hours with, the ones that inspire me to journal, to read God's Word, to hold tight to truths and ideas within them and incorporate them into my everyday life.

I do this with a pen in my hand, and later, a keyboard.
If I'm really blessed, I can find a whole group of people to read along with me, speaking their ideas and bouncing them off mine and the author's and each other- sharpening and inspiring and wrestling out truth so it can be planted in our lives and grow.

Would you like join me?
Let's read a book together!


(Buy it on Amazon)
From the Back Cover

You're strong. You're responsible. You're  good . But . . .. . . as day fades to dusk, you begin to feel the familiar fog of anxiety, the weight and pressure of holding it together and of longing left unmet. Good girls sometimes feel that the Christian life means doing hard work with a sweet disposition. We tend to focus only on the things we can handle, our disciplined lives, and our unshakable good moods.

But what would happen if we let grace pour out boundless acceptance into our worn-out hearts and undo us? If we dared to talk about the ways we hide, our longing to be known, and the fear in the knowing?

In Grace for the Good Girl, Emily Freeman invites you to release your tight hold on that familiar, try-hard life and lean your weight heavy into the love of Jesus. With an open hand, a whimsical style, and a heart bent brave toward adventure, Emily encourages you to move from your own impossible expectations toward the God who has graciously, miraculously, and lovingly found you.
In other words,
Be weak and LOVED!

If you'd like to read along with me, you can click here for the reading schedule. I won't be checking up on you or pestering you, but I will be blogging each week about something from the book. I would also love to hear from you as you read, if you are so inclined. (What do you love? What do you disagree with? What are you learning about God and yourself?)
So... who's in?

My Sanity-Keeping Secrets: Toddlers

I put on my tennis shoes first thing in the morning, and I feel like I run ALL DAY LONG. I run and I clean and I run and I talk and I break up fight and I answer questions and I run and I TALK and they talk at me, and at the end of the day I am WORN OUT.

How can a person work so hard all day long and yet nothing seems to ever get DONE?
The answer is not really all that complicated:
He's almost two.


This post is for all of you who look at me with those admiring eyes saying "wow, I am worn out by my less-than-six kids, I just don't know how SHE does it!" as if I've got some secret.
Here's my secret:Toddlers are HARD WORK.  
Here are a few of our recent escapades, for those of you who missed it on facebook.


Before 8am: [image error] "I will never, ever, ever be caught up."He woke me up with happy shrieks,He streaked down the hallway naked,He dumped a BAG of cat food down the stairs,he fought with the cat (over the food?)
He had a bath,I got him dressed,He ran away,found his way back IN to the tuband turned the water back on,
soaking his clothes
He threw waffles at breakfast, chewed on his foot, snotted and syruped my leg.
After breakfast, he took off his dirty diaper, laughed as he ran down the hallway,sat on my couch,and thought I wanted to wrestle him.
Giggles and smudges everywhere.

Another morning (same week:)2 boys wet the bed to start the dayThey sing about dirty underwear at breakfastI say "No poop talk at the table!" 

but suddenly there IS poop at the table!Baby had an "Up-the-Back'er"They all laugh, "I thought it was just his raisin bran!!!" Hilarious.
Boys in the tub, I start the laundry and return to find the CAT in the TUB! (He had been forced. He was not happy.)
Later, I found them in the tub again.I'm glad I caught them before they turned on the water! (This time!)

 Later that week,
He thought he should paint the wall with the toilet brush.
He stole a raw ear of corn from the counter, and he ate the whole thing.
He did it again.
He tried to eat a marble.
He dumped the cat food into the cat water. 
He put his foot in the syrup and cottage cheese in his hair.
He took a bath in bleach-y dog water (long story).
He poured salt all over the dining room.
He bit the cat's tail.
He put a kitchen towel in the pancake batter.
He followed me in the bathroom, jumped on my lap, fell on the floor, and injured himself. Of course, he wanted ME to comfort HIM about this.

And I sigh and I think if I hear the word "mommy" one more time I am going to scream or cry.

But then, later, he looked at me like this:



 So we went for a swim.He thinks he can swim on his own so really, we just wrestled in the water.When I had enough, they "laid out" in the sun:


That's a good way to dry your hair!
I took them to town the next day.One dove headfirst out of the van on to a curb.Bystanders offered ice packs and sympathy.They played hide and seek in the library while I tried to find a book I was pretending I'd find time to read.(This mama just can't give up hope...)They all skinned knees, slobbered on the drinking fountains,cut in front of strangers,asked me questions, "helped" with the grocery shopping.There were many random bursts of crying. and laughing.Peter licked the cart and Marcus "helped" the cashier.I bought whipped cream for my naptime coffee.
(It's a better choice than whiskey, I reasoned.)

They ate "lunch" in the car so I could put them to bed as soon as we got home.Marcus was supposed to help Peter eat.I guess for Marcus, "help" means "give my brother a bag of cheese."When we got home I found him like this:


My van is a mess, my kitchen is a mess, my floors are sticky, and the boys have stinky feet,but they are sleeping, and I have my coffee,and my silence,and life is good.


[image error] ---------------Toddlers are hard work.
Here's my other secret:Toddlers take naps, and coffee is good.And it does get easier.


 

Art in times of Grief

Grief: Remembering Delia
A child given no medical hope was instead given love.

Her mother gave her life, what she was allowed of it, and she filled all of our hearts until they broke open.
And now, under the crushing weight of God's NO, under the severe power of God's sovereignty over life and death, we stand.  With unanswered questions, and heart-rending complaints, with trembling lips and tears, we thank God for her short life, and we persist with this wild notion that our God loves us, that He is good.
That awful "NO" is still ringing in our ears, but it is not the only thing we hear. 
It cuts through the noise and the pain, sometimes only faintly, but God's children hear it: Do not fear.  I am making all things new.
We cling to God's YES in Jesus.Rather, His YES clings to us, and Jesus Himself holds us fast when our hearts are broken open with sorrow.


Still rememberingIn grief, we remember. We replay moments, we miss and we ache. A heart loving a person who is absent cannot help but love, ache, and remember.
Delia's mom, Shel, is gifted with words and photography. She used those gifts to bless her family during their time of sorrow.She made a little book. It helps them remember.
you can see the proof here.

This family grieves, but not as those who have no hope.  Their hearts ache for their dear daughter, her smell and her giggles and her little fingers and toes.  Yet, they do not grieve as those who have no hope.  Her tiny body received the love of God along with the love of her family, through water on her head and His Spirit in her heart.  His love is a love stronger than death. 
As they read and ache, they remember her, and they remember Him.  He is making all things new.

from the book:It was Delia's birthday and she was baptized.Everyone cried, but they were also happy.Soon after she left to be with Jesus.One day we will all get to be together again.--- Shel Rockhill

---------------------Have you ever worked through grief by making a creative memory?
(Want to make a book? Shel did it here.)

Little much-loved one.

No more can I turn the leaves of this dear book that I loved, and vainly hope in time to read it all.
No more can I look into the depths of this unfathomable water, wherein, as momentary lights glanced into it, I have had glimpses of buried treasure and other things submerged. 
It was appointed that the book should shut with a spring, for ever and for ever, when I had read but a page. 
--Charles Dickens, A Tale of Two Cities


In loving memory of Delia.One year ago today, she was born, she breathed one small sip of life in this place.
She sat in arms of mom and dad and family as they loved her for a moment, and she was loved.



As their love poured on her, she received also the love of GodHis Word, His life-giving water,His promises to her sealed.
Baby Delia's story seemed so short,so small, to those of us who saw her only from this earthly place.

We wait in this place, where sadness and death pervade,
and we look to Christ, who is our life, and hers.

We know by faith that death has not had the victory.

She lives, with Christ,
she lives.




She lives.And she is loved.

We remember.
For now we see in a mirror dimly, but then face to face.  Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I have been fully known. 1 Corinthians 13:12
---------------------------
Tomorrow:Using Art to Bless Your Family in times of grief

Held in Peace

 "And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, will guard and keep your hearts and minds in Christ Jesus." Philippians 4:7
Doesn’t it seem strange to talk about “peace” in this place where tornadoes destroy and babies die? What is this peace that we have in Christ? Does the peace of God somehow lift us above the fear and grief that is part of the human condition?Christians suffer, in body and in spirit in this place.
We are not given the peace of the Stoic. We are not told smile when all is well, and smile when the cancer is terminal. We are not told to close our hearts to that which could disturb our peace. We do not experience a mystical inner collection with God that allows us to weather the storms of this life like immovable statues. No, we flip and fly with the winds, much like the rest of the world.
In our experience, we who have peace with Christ often do not feel very peaceful at all, not in this place.
Christians suffer, and yet there ispeace in Christ. photo credit
Those who are not in Christ are like a kite unfettered; free-wheeling through the sky; vulnerable to the winds and the elements. The crash is inevitable. The flight is terrifying.
We who have Christ are like the kite held by the strong father.We have peace with God, and yet we live in this fallen world for a little while longer. We are still assaulted by the winds.The rain falls, and some of the turns make our stomachs lurch. We may even feel as if we are careening out of control, and we brace for impact. But even in the worst of storms, we are tethered to a Rock.We are held fast by Him who loves us.

As we flip and fly in this life, we know that nothing that assaults us can force us out of his hands.He will hold us fast.And one day He will reel us in, to Himself. He will bring us to our home of forever peace, in perfect safety.Until then, even as we flip and fly, His grip is our peace.
photo credit
His grip is our peace.

You may also enjoy: Devotions by Emily and My Weakness/His Strength

Suicide: A talk I did not want to have.

I hold back tears all morning.  If only I can make it until naptime.Your doctor is dead, children.I can’t say it yet. I need more time.
Kids, please go play outside while I make lunch for you.He was our pediatrician and we loved him.He’s dead, and by his own hand.
A child came upstairs playing, smiling with a toy gun in his mouth. I yelled at him, irrationally upset telling him to never, ever, ever do that again.“It’s just a toy mommy.” He said.Would that I could protect you from all evil by banning such toys, son.
Come quickly for lunch, kids.Our doctor is gone and it makes no sense.Quit goofing around and eat your food already!
I want them to go to bed so I can grieve and wrestle in peace.Two boys run down the hallway holding hands and they crash into me. I yell. “This is NOT getting ready for naps, is it boys? Now DO what I TOLD YOU!”
Creating chaos is not helping this house get quiet and my heart hurts so I need quiet NOW.  So I think, and so my hurting heart hurts their little hearts.  I found one under covers, not playing and teasing but laying there in tears. “I didn’t like it when you yelled at me mommy.”Oh honey I am so sorry.  And I was, and we cried quiet tears together. “My heart hurts today, but that doesn’t mean I should hurt yours. While you nap I will pray that Jesus helps me be kind again ok? And I’ll wake you up with big hugs and kind words.” He nodded tears still streaming and he hugged me tight around the neck. I let my tears fall, tears of sadness over my sin and over death and evil in all places, in this home and in his home.
I left him to nap and went out to talk to the big kids. “Mommy’s ready to tell you why my heart hurts today.  Our pediatrician has died.”
“Our doctor?”“But he was so nice!”“But he was the smartest doctor ever!” said the biggest boy, remembering his help curing his ears last year.  That healing elevated the good doctor to a place of respect even with or even above daddy, and ever since then he believed the smartest people in the world are doctors.
“Yes, he helped you with your ears, and he helped Aggie with her seizures, and he helped all of you kids grow healthy ever since we’ve lived here.  It’s so sad.”
And then, because they will hear it from someone else if I don’t tell them, I tell them how it happened.And it makes no sense to them.And I agree. It makes no sense.
I do not speculate in front of the children, but I do in my head. But my guesses and theories do not satisfy me. It makes no sense.
I had not planned to talk about suicide with my children this month.  But circumstances put it on the list, so talk we must, even when it makes no sense.
We talk a little, and then we sit in silence together with our sad hearts and our questionsWe look to Christ together, and we pray.And we wait.
Come Lord Jesus.

----------Have you had to talk about this subject with your children?
For more conversations with 'tweens, click here: Growing Up With my 'tween

Rest over. Back to work.

The weight of it; kids and responsibilities straining my back. 
It was good to get away, to stand up tall and to breathe.


I ached for them terribly by the end of the week. I missed them so much I wanted to spend money on them just to feel closer to them, to have a chance to shamelessly think about them.

We walked around the shops and we remembered our first trip with children, only 2 and only girls, and how they laughed at the water that shoots from the sidewalk like big water worms. They were so little then, curly hair and wide-eyed awe of princesses. This year I shop for them in the princess section and realize they are too old for much of it.
I want to go back to the hotel and finish the story I am writing for them but I just can't decide where it goes next. I think I'll need them to help me finish it.
It rains and I wish they were here to play with me in it.  It's the perfect rain for playing, heavy and warm, and rivers rush down alongside the curbs.  I remember introducing my first baby to Florida puddles before she could even walk.
My back is not sore any longer. I'm ready to go back to work, to carry them.
But first, before I put them all on my back,I'll flip over stretch my arms out wideand I'll feel the weight of the love of six children pressing down heavy and warm on my open heart.

I'll be welcomed home.

Rest. Day Six. Looking Upward.

Resting.
Receiving.
Breathing in.

Looking upward and looking forward.
Away from home, from the constant running, I breathe in, and pray, Lord, help me to see the world as you see it.


An excerpt from Sacred Meditations by Johann Gerhard Let the mind always look upward.

Devout soul, you should not love the fleeting life, but rather the permanent one. Let your desires ascend to that place where there is youth without old age, life without death, joy without sadness, and a kingdom without change.
 If beauty delights you, "the righteous will shine like the sun" (Matthew 13:43); if speed or strength, "the elect will be like the angels of God" (Matthew 22:30); if a long and healthy life, there eternity is healthy and health is eternal; if satisfaction, the elect will be satisfied when they appear in the glory of the Lord (Psalm 17:15).  

If melody delights you,there choirs of angels sing without end; if worldly pleasures, "God will inebriate them with the river of pleasure" (Psalm 36:9): if wisdom, the wisdom of God will be shown to you there; if friendship, they will love God more than themselves, and they will love each other as themselves, and God will love them more than they love themselves.  


If concord delights you, there everyone will be of one will; if power, everything will be easy there for the elect: they will desire nothing that they cannot have, yet they will desire nothing except that which God wants them to will and to desire.  


If honor and riches delight you, "God will set His faithful servant over many things" (Matthew 25:23); if real security, that will never and by no means fail them, just as it will never be lost by them of their own accord, nor will their loving God ever remove it contrary to the desire of their will, nor is there any will more powerful than God that could ever separate you from him.




Photo by Shalinee Kohli Murishwar: Follow Shalinee on instagram

Rest. Day Five. Gratitude.

"I'd love to hear how you balance your marriage and keep it healthy.."
so said a few of you when I last asked about blog topics.
I have to admit, I snorted a laugh on this one. Marriage advice? Really? To write about marriage I'd actually have to THINK about my marriage and sad to say, I really don't do that very much.
Most often, I am caught up in surviving, managing the children, and just making it through the day.  My husband gets what's leftover, maybe, if there is anything.  And he's surviving too, living out his vocation as pastor and daddy.
If it were on my shoulders to plan some sort of marriage maintenance event, it would never happen. The logistics involved for me to get away, even for a night, are overwhelming.  I'd rather just stay home, and keep doing what I am doing, rather than do the work required to "find a sub."
He has to make me get away. He's always had to force me to relax, even in college, when he taught me that it was OK to walk away from the books for the sake of fun, of him, of us.
He took the initiative, and put our vacation on the calendar with all the authority of a Man. I submitted, packed, and planned for our time away.

We don't shrug off our vocations. I am still mommy, and his is still pastor, and daddy.
But we are husband and wife, too, and the time we spend living as Lover and the Beloved is good for us both.
We fill each other up, as God intended.



How good it is to be loved by a man who seeks my good.

Father, when chaos returns to our lives, keep us grateful for the gift you have given us in each other. Continue to grow us up in You and in fervent love for one another.  In Jesus, Amen.