At the moment my mom is at the movies with Jenna, Jared and Ava are napping, and I am sitting on the couch as still as possible, sipping ginger ale, praying that my lunch does not re-enter the atmosphere. Jenna had some virus on Sunday that resulted in sickness (to put in nicely) and wearing a pull-up for the rest of the day. So far Ava just had a low fever, so hopefully that's the worst of it for the rest of us. I started some laundry and vacuumed the bedrooms this morning, so I feel like I've met my house-duty quota for the day. Though I am sure more chores will present themselves as the day unfolds.
I started my day in the best possible way, a shower, prayer and reading the Word. Unfortunately, this is nowhere near my normal routine. That is usually reserved for waking up to Ava yelling to get out of her crib or because Jenna took something out of it, getting Ava out, making sure Jenna goes to the bathroom, straightening myself up a little, brushing my teeth, and re-entering mommy land for the remainder of the day. Last night I went to sleep around 11:30 and somehow managed to wake up after Lance this morning at 6:30. I was quickly motivated to get up and take a shower since I knew I might not get another chance during the day. I heard Jenna get up as I was getting dressed, and she came in wanting to play the computer. So, as usual, she had to go to the bathroom first, and I tried my best to keep quiet so Ava and Jared wouldn't wake up. But before I sent her out to the living room, I thought I'd take advantage of us being up together to pray with her for our day. I automatically felt a tenderness come over me toward her. We have many power struggles and lots of whining throughout the day, so sometimes I forget how so very precious she is. It wasn't a long, drawn out prayer that would make her start playing with whatever she could find in arm's reach, but a good note to start the day on. As soon as I was finished she quickly asked if she could "go play the computer now?" and off she went. I grabbed a cup of coffee and headed back to my room for some Bible time.
I don't read books for myself as often as I would like. Really, ever in the last few years. I also don't retain what I'm reading well, but instead forget what I've read as soon I read it. I find myself reading the same few sentences over again or skimming back. I always hated the English assignments where you had to write your own recap of what you just read! I like that I have a study Bible that has the commentary on the bottom, the profiles and timelines of the "characters." The commentary might not be perfect interpretation all the time, but after every few verses I find myself at the bottom of the page looking for an answer to, "What the heck does that mean?" Which I think can be common when you're reading the Old Testament. How ever long it took me to get through 7 chapters of Isaiah didn't really matter. I needed the replenishment and to be reminded of the power of God's word.
I had a thought as I was reading. One of the captivating aspects of reading anyone's book is that you are connecting with the author, their person, their personality, their thought-process. How awesome it is that we have THIS resource available to us. It isn't just any author's work, but it is history, the present, the future, the person, the personality, the thought-process of our Creator. In the day to day that can be mundane, I find myself desiring to be closer to the Lord, be reassured of His presence (in the midst of a toddler fit or the splashing water out of the tub that has brought me to the end of my rope), and just to be at peace. At the same time I can honestly ask myself, how do I expect to have any of that without reading the Word more? This is not to down-play the power of prayer in seeking God or to start a debate on whether God can reveal himself to those who don't have a Bible. But I DO. What excuse seems good enough to not take the time? None of course. The benefit far out-weighs whatever I could be doing in those few minutes (ie. my technology addiction as Lance would say, blogging is the exception right?).
Isaiah 4:2-5:2 - In that day the Branch of the LORD will be beautiful and glorious, and the fruit of the land will be the pride and glory of the survivors in Israel. Those who are left in Zion, who remain in Jerusalem, will be called holy, all who are recorded among the living in Jerusalem. The Lord will wash away the filth of the women of Zion; he will cleanse the bloodstains from Jerusalem by a spirit of judgment and a spirit of fire. Then the LORD will create over all of Mount Zion and over those who assemble there a cloud of smoke by day and a glow of flaming fire by night; over everything the glory will be a canopy. It will be a shelter and shade from the heat of the day, and a refuge and hiding place from the storm and rain. I will sing for the one I love a song about his vineyard: My loved one had a vineyard on a fertile hillside. He dug it up and cleared it of stones and planted it with the choicest vines. He built a watchtower in it and cut out a winepress as well. Then he looked for a crop of good grapes, but it yielded only bad fruit.
It all sounds nice until the last line there doesn't it? The importance of understanding the context in which Scripture is written goes without saying, but I also love when I am left with a thought for personal reflection and application. Today I am left with the thought of my children being my fruit. One of the points of the parenting study we're doing is so simple, but a good reminder. Without a doubt, your kids will do what you DO, not what you say! And I want the example of prayer and reading the Word to be one in the fore-front with the kids and the person they see me as. They won't really see me as an individual for many years and in maturity, I'm just their mom. With this blessing and responsibility I want to be someone who unashamedly displays the influence that God has had, and continues to have, on me as a person and be a reflection of Christ's love for people. What I'm striving for in myself is the dream I have for them.
