Adventures in Parenting

Last night Elisabeth spent the night with our friends (who also happen to be our downstairs neighbors). I returned from the hospital at about 3:45am and crashed on the futon, and didn't see Elisabeth until her perky face roused me from slumber.

Since we hadn't divulged her sister's name to her before the birth, I asked her, "What do you think your sister's name is?"
"Kate!" she quickly replied.
"Very close," I said, "her name is Katherine Mae. Who do you think named her?"
"Mommy," Elisabeth replied.
"Who else?" I prompted.
"Aunt Kate?" she tried.
I tried a different tack: "Who do you think named you?"
"Mom and Dad!" she replied.

For all who are wondering: Yes, Rebecca's due date was Saturday; but, no, the baby hasn't arrived . . . yet.

In my search for easy readers, I have been frequently disappointed with the lack of plot. The obvious exceptions are authors like Dr. Seuss who spin hilarious tales with short, simple words. However, the length of The Cat in the Hat and the like can be intimidating for Elisabeth. So after becoming acquainted with Mo Willems through his fantastic Knuffle Bunny stories, I checked out four of his Elephant and Piggie books.

They are fantastic for Elisabeth, with simple text, a fun plot and clever illustrations. I'd highly recommend them for emergent readers!

Yesterday I took Elisabeth and Zoe to the Met for their art class. We arrived early and wandered around the Greek and Roman galleries, where we found this fountain.



The girls noticed all the coins in the fountain and asked me, "Why is there money in here?" I stumbled for words. "People think it gives them good luck?" I happened to have my ipod in my pocket, and there was a wifi network in the gallery, so I googled "throwing coins in fountain" and it pulled up a New York Times article that cited one of the Met historians on the origin of the practice:

Joan Mertens, the Met’s curator of Greek and Roman art, came up with a story, appropriately enough, from ancient Greece. Amasis, the king of Egypt in the sixth century B.C., predicted trouble for his ally Polykrates unless Polykrates showed some humility. Amasis, Ms. Mertens said, told Polykrates he should throw into the sea his most valued possession: an emerald ring.

“Sort of as proof or a sign, someone in Polykrates’s household came in with a big fish who had the ring in his stomach,” she said, “so it came back to him.”

From that, she said, came the notion of “casting away something that is meaningful to you, and if you’re lucky, you will be reunited with it.”

I learned something, and enjoyed yet another trip to the Met.

I often listen to sermons or podcasts while I am washing dishes. (We don't have a dishwasher, so I wash a lot of dishes.) Two days ago I listened to Mark Dever interview Donald Whitney on Christian growth and discipleship. Whitney (of whom I had not heard before) said several things worth sharing:

1. There is so much good content available today that you could pack your days 24/7 with books, TV, audio, etc. So the question is not just the things we select (about which we obsess), but how to live in a way that excludes many good things.
2. When asked what the most important lesson in spiritual discipline is, he answered: meditation. He then defined meditation as the combination of prayer and Scripture. It is reading Scripture and using it for worship, confession and supplication. It guards against academic reading and laundry list prayer. 

Those two pieces of advice have helped me, even in just the past few days to meditate and worship Christ rather than just filling my days with good things.   

A recent conversation:

Dad: Do you remember what Ezra's name means?
Elisabeth: Help is here.
D: Do you remember what your name means?
E: No. What does it mean?
D: Devoted to God.
E: What does your name mean, Mommy?
R: Steadfast.
E: What does your name mean, Daddy?
D: Grey house.
E: Oh.

Over the past week or two Elisabeth and I have been reading Little House on the Prairie. I have to admit, I've been impressed by Charles Ingalls. Why?

1. He travels from Wisconsin to Kansas during winter with all his worldly possessions (and family of 5) in a wagon drawn by two horses - crossing the Mississippi when it is iced over.
2. He builds a house in the plains from trees in the creek bed, and a fireplace from the stones in the creek bed.
3. He makes and smooths a floor for the house without a plane or sandpaper . . . just an axe.
4. He makes a door for the house without any nails, hangs it without metal hinges, and builds a lock system out of wood and leather.
5. He digs a well for fresh water.
6. He hunts the food that they eat - and, of course, skins, and cleans it.

His hard work, ingenuity and resourcefulness are simply amazing to me.

Once again these words resonated in my soul:

Though the fig tree should not blossom,

  nor fruit be on the vines,

the produce of the olive fail

  and the fields yield no food,

the flock be cut off from the fold

  and there be no herd in the stalls,

yet I will rejoice in the LORD;

   I will take joy in the god of my salvation.

God, the Lord, is my strength;

  he makes my feet like the deer's;

  he makes me tread on my high places.

(Habakkuk 3:17-19)

Several weeks ago, I led a children's worship session at our church. The Scripture for the session was God's call of Samuel in 1 Samuel 3. I read the story aloud to them, and then asked several questions:

• Who was the boy in the story?
• Who was the man?
• Who called to the boy?
• What did he say to the boy?

After reading the story through twice, the four- to nine-year-olds had answered the first three, but couldn't answer the fourth question.

To make it a bit easier for them, I re-read the second half of the chapter, in which God speaks to Samuel. Then I asked them again, "What did God say to Samuel?" Blank faces. "Samuel"? several kids offered. I explained that we knew that it was God calling, that He had called to Samuel three times, and that Samuel had said, "Speak, Lord, for your servant is listening."

So I read the part of the chapter in which God gave his message to Samuel again (time #4). And again I asked the question. Again I didn't get an answer.

I opened up the Bible again and read that portion another time (#5 now). Again I probed, "What was the message? What did God tell Samuel?" Finally I started to get some answers! The message was about Eli, and it wasn't good. Eli had allowed his sons to be wicked.

Numerous times (five times, actually) I was tempted to tell them the answer. But my experience as a teacher restrained me, and reminded me: to teach children, to listen, to think and to learn, sometimes one must go very slowly.

A few weeks ago, I had the privilege of teaching children's worship at our church. I asked the kids if they knew what the adults were learning downstairs (since we are in a series on the gospel and evangelism). They said that the grown-ups were probably learning the same thing they were, which is usually the case. I reminded them that we are in a series on the gospel, and asked, "Can anyone tell me the gospel in one sentence?" None of the kids tried.

Recalling what I had learned from J.I. Packer in A Quest for Godliness, I told them, "I can give it to you in 3 words: God saves sinners." I then briefly explained each of those three words - who God is, that saving means reconciling, and that the only people whom God saves are sinners.

I'm convinced that a simple announcement and explanation like that is essential not only for children, but for adults as well, for several reasons. First, it is dangerously presumptuous to assume that children or adults have heard the good news. This may well be their first time inside the doors of a church. Second, having heard it does not mean that they have received and believed the good news. It is through the faithful announcement of this good news that the Holy Spirit gives new life. Speaking it often, and with joy, is important for all of us. Third, for those who have heard and believed, we can easily forget any of the 3 -

1. That it is the only, Almighty God with whom we have to do;
2. That the nature of His salvation is to reconcile us to Himself through the death of His Son [ . . . and make us reconcilers]; and
3. That we are sinners in need of mercy, whose good deeds merit nothing.

I was thankful both for the occasion to announce good news to the children, but also for the fact that it forced me to be simple and express those great truths in words that they could understand.