Tending

"I'll finish our book in a minute, honey. I need to tend to Peter."

I use the verb "tend " all the time to refer to the baby of the house. I hear crying or fussing, and I rush off to "tend," to meet whatever need it is that needs meeting. I tell the other children I must "tend," because as I go pick up the baby I do not know if he needs changing or feeding or cuddling or what. Hang on a minute big kids, mommy needs to "tend!"

I remember when Eldon was little and needed tending to, and Aggie was sick and needed so much tending to, and the others tended to each other as much as possible. I remember the day I was cooking dinner and talking to baby Eldon and dosing up the epilepsy meds, when Marcus pulled on my leg and demanded with big sad eyes, "Mommy! Tend to me!"

I like the verb "tend," and have begun to use it in my prayers. I miss my family, more than usual during the holiday season, and I hate not knowing what is going on with everyone. I have friends back home that are going through some hard times and I wish I was there to help them through. There are some in our church family who suffer, and I don't know what to pray or how to help them. So I use that wonderful verb that covers it all- I pray that Jesus tends to them. He knows whatever needs there are that need meeting, and He is also able to meet them.

Jesus, please tend to those I love in Michigan. Tend to my mother and father and sister and family; tend to my dear in-laws and my extended family. Tend to those who are rejoicing for I know not what, for those who bear sadness and trials that I do not see. Tend to those who miss loved ones like I do, tend to those who suffer both near and far. Jesus Our Good Shepherd, tend to us. Amen.

A man of constant spelling...

I wonder, has anyone ever been spelled to death?

Death starts with D mommy!
M-O-M-M-Y! that spells mommy! How do you spell "spell?" Mommy? Mommy, where are you going? How do you spell "going" mama?

We interrupt this broadcast to bring you the latest puke report...

Some disturbing news this morning. A young boy by the name of Eldon woke up in a strange pile of slime and an even more strangely smelling diaper. Witnesses say the slime resembled hotdog pieces and partially-digested rasins, but we await confirmation from the forensic department. The resilient boy continues to smile his toothy smile despite the stench. Nasal impairment is suspected and under investigation.

In a strange turn of events, the older Cook children have been pronounced healthy and seem to have received an alien form of super-energy. They will be hosting a wrestling/bike riding/yelling/and havoc-making event in the Cook basement throughout the morning.

Witnesses say the mother of these children has a vacant stare and crazy hair this morning. She appears to be treating her condition with coffee and vitamins. She was last seen hiding in her home office after a round of compulsive lysol-spraying throughout her house. If you see her wandering aimlessly in the fields, please contact the authorities.

Not clean enough!

This is the kind of thing that happens if I turn my back for one second!

Eldon had just gotten out of the tub, but apparently his bath was not enough- he had to steal the bath intended for his sisters!

easy love

Snuggly soft skin, breathing you in
Siblings think all you do is sleep;
They hurry the days of walking and playing
I admire your tiny hand, sleepily resting on my arm
and wish the clock's hands were as calm as yours

The time will come for crawling and walking and wrestling
for temper tantrums and standing in the corner
for reading books and picking battles
for teaching, protecting, and letting go.
It will come, is coming quickly

For this moment, your favorite place in the world is in my arms,

next to my skin
There is no conflict between us, no hard lessons to learn
You need only know the most basic thing: that you are loved
And for now, loves comes from me easily, naturally, effortlessly
You receive it and return it in your simple ways
with each coo and smile,
small contented sigh,
wrapped softly in blankets and arms

I hold you close, while I can
Savoring these dwindling rocking-chair days.


Self- soothing can wait.

We soothe each other.

Another reason for scowling...

Is there anything sadder than sweet fat thighs with bandages on them?

On Scowling

"Mommy, look at this beautiful picture I made! I am going to bring it to school tomorrow to show Mrs. Barnett!" Aggie yells. She digs through her church bag to find the picture, still breathing hard from beating all her siblings in the run home from church.

"Oh honey," I sigh, remembering her upcoming MRI, "It's beautiful, but you are going to have to wait until Wednesday to give it to your teacher. You don't get to go to school tomorrow; you have to go to the hospital so they can take pictures of your brain instead."

"But mommy!" she whines. "I want to go to school!" I watch as a hard scowl smashes the joy from her face. She stomps down the hall, a picture of woe, certain her life is entirely ruined. I suppress a smile, watching her moan and complain about this small misery. It is day 445 of seizure- freedom for that girl. She has no idea what a small thing one little MRI really is.

Yet I see myself in her, so I withhold my lecture for once. Telling her, "you think this is bad? Let me tell you how much worse it could be!" would be as unhelpful to her as it is to me when I am feeling overwhelmed and burdened. Of course, I act like her sometimes; surrounded by a million mercies, yet pitching fits over minor inconveniences. Fighting children, interrupted schedules, stomach flu, broken dishes--any one of these things has the potential to elicit sighing and complaining from me. Aggie is blessedly shielded from how much worse it could really be, and so, an MRI counts as a trial in her world. That does not make her suffering pointless, or something that can be lectured away. "God says to rejoice always, little girl, so buck up and get yourself happy right now!"

The concept "It could be worse!" is often used as an attempt to comfort those in trial by well-meaning people. When this idea comes from a Christian, the implicit message sounds an awful lot like: Jesus died for you! How dare you be sad?! Is this what the Bible says about suffering? Your laundry machine is broken. Rejoice always! You miss a birthday party to spend the day throwing up into a bucket. Rejoice! That baby you prayed for has died. Again I say rejoice! Really?

Christ has died for us, and has received the enormous suffering we deserve for our sins. Our greatest debt has been paid, and on top of that, our Heavenly Father surrounds us with His grace and blessing as His children. Surely this is reason for great joy! However, that does not mean suffering is no more. While we remain in this fallen world, we will suffer. We have not been told to wear plastic smiles and pretend it is not so.

Rejoicing and suffering are often mentioned together in Scripture. Peter wrote to the suffering church, "In this you greatly rejoice, though now for a little while you may have had to suffer grief in all kinds of trials" (1 Peter 1:6). Trials, from minor inconveniences to breath-taking grief, have been part of the life of the Christian since the beginning. The imperative "rejoice!" is not intended to be a heavy word of Law slapped on the back of a suffering Christian. It is not a call to rack our brains for a hundred reasons to be thankful even as we tremble under the shadow of death.

God's children suffer, sometimes greatly, sometimes without knowing why. And yet they are made able to rejoice even while suffering. The important question is: Rejoice in what? Surely not in the fact that they suffer! No, rather read the beautiful words Peter uses to direct the eyes of His fellow saints to their source of joy:

In his great mercy he has given us new birth into a living hope through the resurrection of Jesus Christ from the dead, and into an inheritance that can never perish, spoil, or fade--kept in heaven for you, who through faith are shielded by God's power until the coming of salvation that is ready to be revealed in the last time. (1 Peter 1:3-5)

In this we greatly rejoice, though now for a little while we suffer grief in all kinds of trials.

As God's children, we have been given so much more to comfort us than "It could be worse!" We have a risen Savior, a certain hope, and a God who keeps our inheritance for us, who will carry us through our trials to that day when we are with him in eternity. We may sigh today, we may even mourn, yet even as we do these things, we are tenderly invited to look to that day when the promises God has given us in Christ will be fulfilled. Soon, we will be gathered with all His saints, and He will destroy for us every reason for scowling and tears.

Yes Eldon, life IS hard!

recent pics!

OK I have been busy lately... Right now Eldon is on my lap and Peter is having tummy time right in front of me on my desk! So I'd better not spend time adding many words to these pictures!

The one at the top was from touch a truck- it was a ball this year! The boys LOVED it! (Peter slept through it all!)


Here we are at the Indy zoo- the boys favorite thing was petting the sharks! The girls were pretty jealous of this trip (we went monday during school) so we may take them to zoo boo this weekend!

Graduation! This is ELDON in his big boy bed!
Here is Peter, having tummy time on the dining room table! He makes a great centerpiece!