Sometimes I forget to delight in you

For all the parents out there, but also for all of us doing hard things

Sometimes, actually more than I like to admit, I forget to delight in you. To really enjoy you. To simply gaze and wonder at how ridiculously fun you are. How ridiculous in general you are. And how ridiculously great that is.

Sometimes, my sweet kiddos, life can be really hard. The headlines are yelling chaos from every direction and you’re also yelling in the room next to me, all while I’m attempting to get these convoluted thoughts down. I'm not great at living in paradox. And sometimes I forget to raise my head above the day to day, and really see…

How you mispronounce your words and say them that same way for years. I’m sure not going to correct “skabetti” and “beltseat”—sorry kid, it’s way too cute. Sometimes I catch myself telling you both to put on your “beltseats,” and it makes me smile in the chaos of always rushing out the door. That momentary interruption recalibrates my hurried heart.

How I catch you both through cracked doors enjoying each other during play time, where brother is helping dress up the baby dolls and sister is helping examine the bugs—my all boy and all girl playing a different role for the sake of the other. The countless (constant?) times of my own role of referee somehow seem worth it when I encounter the rare moments like this.

How you walk straight toward me every morning after you’ve just woken, wiping sleepy eyes and pouncing heavy feet. I’ve started moving my Bible to the table next to me so I can fully embrace your lanky limbs and ever-lengthening body. Remembering—you won’t do this forever. Let the inconvenience keep coming while it lasts.

We can’t adequately explain it to those who look at us parents and think, “Dear goodness, they look miserable.” Because of course, a lot of the time, we kind of are in some ways. But doesn’t that just come with the territory of giving ourselves away, having our whole heart outside of our body in little human frames? It's the kind of inevitable life where we love with a ferocity that often consumes our every waking thought, and with that comes both joy and heartache. Elation and frustration.

It’s a little miserable and a little glorious. It’s the hardest thing we’ve ever done and also the absolute best. It’s all of the things wrapped up together in a lifetime of trying to hold all of those feelings in balance, realizing that this illusive equilibrium doesn’t exist. So we open our arms to the spectrum of emotions and let them rest all together. Let them be what they are.

We try to relate this both/and to the soon-to-be-mommas, or the naysayers, or the skeptics refusing to ever consider this death to self otherwise known as parenting. But the explanation always seems to fall short. How could we encapsulate all of this glory?

It is a world that must be experienced. A world of catching those precious moments, like spotting a rainbow in the midst of a rainfall. The delight comes hard fought. But isn't that the best kind of joy, anyways?

So rather than forcing the good to hide the hard, we parents must learn to live in the ever-colliding continuum that loving you invites.

We pray the delights won’t be overshadowed by the trying realities. Rather, we allow the extremes to dance in harmony, the experiences all converging to create the wondrous and wild symphonies that are our lives.

And perhaps we write something down like this. To remind you, dear children, that we do, very much, delight in you.

And to also remind ourselves we can, in fact, still remember to delight. To catch the beautiful glimpses of glory. Right there, in the midst of all of it.

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And sometimes, I forget it’s not all up to me

Friends, I know things feel heavy right now. There is a whole lot going on in the world, and in this day and age, we are able to access ALL of it. While of course we want to be responsible citizens and be intercessors for humanity, I also don’t believe we as finite beings are meant to consume so much.

Even just this week we heard hours of gun shots and smelled the smoke of tear gas from police reacting violently to largely peaceful protests here in Nairobi—violence against people calling their government out on the oppressive corruption. Our hearts felt even heavier when the suffering hit so close to home.

I am not saying we stick our heads in the sand in defeat. We have a victorious God who still calls us to pray for our governments and those in authority (1 Timothy 2:1-3) as well as for “[his] kingdom come, [his] will be done, on earth as it is in heaven” (Matthew 6:10).

Protestors just down the road from us

But if you’re feeling overwhelmed like I have been, let me encourage us with a few things as we navigate the state of our world:

1. May we be weary of how much media we consume. Phylicia Masonheimer (a theology teacher) quoted Richard Foster's advice in her newsletter responding to people’s questions concerning what is unfolding in the Middle East: Only consume as much news as you can pray for. We can’t be adequately informed about every single thing happening in the world. Be mindful of where our hearts drift as we seek to be informed.

2. Then, pray. Pray for persecuted Christians in these areas. Pray for those who are oppressing their citizens to repent and turn to Christ. Pray for the Lord to bring peace to these nations, and peace to your heart as well.
   
   Pray together as a family. Pray in the mornings before you pick up your phone and check the latest news. Then, release your trust to our good Father.
   
   I’ve linked Phylicia Masonheimer’s podcast about why we should pray for things even when the Lord is sovereign. It is a simple yet helpful talk as we navigate our theology of prayer, God’s sovereignty, free will, etc.
   

3. Remember our hope. We mourn with those who mourn (Romans 12:15), while also clinging fervently to our hope that does not disappoint, even through great suffering (Romans 5:5; remember the context in which Paul was writing these letters). We are called to be a city on a hill (Matthew 5:14), so may we point people to our eternal hope through Christ alone as we seek the same.

Ask the Lord for wisdom on what he wants you and your family to be praying over and acting where you can, and when the news seems too much, turn the tv off. Shut off your phone. Get out in the sunshine. Heck, do a puzzle (that’s what we did when the Kenyan protests became too much—see below).

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace as you trust in him, so that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit.

-Romans 15:13

So yes, we have been praying, talking, and processing through these various circumstances happening around the world. But then, we also spent some evenings working a chicken puzzle like the 30 somethings we are. It’s ok, you can laugh lol