Friday, May 27, 2011

It's Just a Little Wooden Rocking Chair....

It's nothing special to look at.  Just a little wooden rocking chair that fits in a corner of Anna Ruth's small room.  I picked it up at a local antique store for $40.  Its history is unknown save for the obvious fact that it has been well used.  The finish on the arms is worn smooth by many hours of hands resting there as the chair rocked back and forth, back and forth.  

Anna Ruth is now just over 18 months old, and we've had that little chair now for about six months.  As our life got busier and routines more complicated, we found ourselves continuing our bed time routine with our little boys each night, complete with stories, Bible time, singing and cuddling. But, the littlest member of the family, we carried upstairs and laid into bed with nothing more than a kiss and a nighttime prayer.  When the boys were babies, we had rocked them each night and read stories and sang.  However, there was no chair in Anna Ruth's room. My heart hurt when I realized what was happening, so off to the antique store I went to find a rocking chair that would fit in her tiny space. 

As I sit in her room each afternoon rocking back and forth, looking out the window at our budding peach tree while she snuggles in my lap - always facing out, thumb in mouth and owlie tucked into her arm, I am grateful for this little rocking chair.  It met a great need of the stopped a childhood from passing without memories for daughter or parents of special cuddle times at provides a place for bonding where there was none before.  It allows me to find myself lost in thought as I gently nuzzle my face in Ru's soft, lavender scented hair and rock back and forth, back and forth.  And in this place, I am at peace - soaking in those precious fleeting moments of being able to rock my baby girl.  

No, it isn't much to look at.  It wouldn't have been what I chose out of a magazine.  But I am so very thankful for how fully and completely it meets our needs.  Sometimes we are blessed with amazing things, and sometimes we are blessed with ordinary things that through reflection become truly amazing.  

Tuesday, May 10, 2011

my heart is like a camera

It's hard to capture the depth of one's emotion or to really and truly know just how someone feels.  Children tend to be more transparent than adults, for they haven't yet learned to mask or restrain what pours forth from their deepest joys and sorrows. Yet they too can surprise you and keep you guessing.  

Tonight was my night to snuggle with Caleb.  So, up in the top bunk right under the ceiling we cuddled talking about various things from our day, about our blessings and about how much Caleb loves everyone in our family. He was quiet for a while, then with a shaky voice and a stream of tears, he turned to me and buried his face into my hair and sobbed.  He was able to feebly tell me how he doesn't want me to become a Grandma or Papa to become a Grandpa because he loves us so much and doesn't want us to die and go to heaven, because then he won't see us at all.  Of course, by now, I was crying too and holding my baby boy as close as I could.  I tried to comfort both of us by reminding him of the fact that once we were all in heaven, there would be no more death or tears, and that we would never be separated again.....ever, so our most important goal was to make sure we got to heaven by having Jesus in our hearts.  

As we both quieted down, I looked over to see Caleb staring off into the distance.  He finally said, "In Narnia, the White Witch told Edmond she would always be alive in his mind.  What does that mean?  How could she always be alive?"  I told him that she was an evil character and was trying to scare Edmond.  I then explained, however, that our memories allow us to remember special times and people long after they have passed away.  I told him with tears about my own Grandparents who now lived in heaven and how I can still picture them in my mind and remember special times we shared together.  In that way, they were still alive in my mind.  

A long silence followed.  Caleb finally said, "You know, it's sort of strange, but I can see things in my heart.  It's as if my heart is like a camera."

Ah, Caleb.  Mine is too.  Mine is too.  And if I can remember only a few of the special times we share into my old age, I think tonight will be one of them....burned forever in the camera of my heart.  I love you too, baby boy.....and I always will. 

He will wipe away every tear from their eyes, and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning, nor crying, nor pain anymore, for the former things have passed away.” Revelation 21:4