Mirror, Mirror

     I'm sure there is a moment in every mother's life when she looks at her child, or children, and feels as if she is looking directly into a mirror.  This has been happening to me a lot lately.  I can think of several different occasions within the past two weeks that I looked at each child individually and saw myself.  The problem with it is that I didn't see the good version of myself that I have pictured in my head.  I saw the uncontrolled, pushy, demanding, temperamental parts.  Geez.
    We'll start with Bubby, since he's the least like me.  He has this tendency to just plow over people to get what he wants.  He will literally run over his twin to get to me.  If I'm standing at the sink washing dishes and he wants me to pick him up, he forces his little body between my legs and the cabinets and pushes with all his weight against it to get me away from the sink.  I don't know where he learned to be so adamant about getting his way.  Oh wait...
     Then there is Tinker Belle, who is mostly expressionless.  She has recently learned a new look.  It's the "I'm gonna kill you" (but not literally) look.  If you say something she doesn't like or look at her a certain way, she lowers her little eyebrows at you.  I can't imagine where she saw such a mean look.  Well, maybe...
   Lastly, there is Princess, my mini-me in life.  She was nagging (ahem) me about wanting something for two straight hours before I lost my cool and ranted about how she had to stop nagging me, during which my voice cracked and I almost cried, which made her begin to cry because she can't handle it when I cry, and she yelled back at me in the same tone, with the same desperate expression that she just couldn't help it.  It was some twilight zone type stuff...THEN she developed an unexplainable fear of our bathrooms.  She doesn't want to be in there by herself, and it's not exactly easy to drop everything and take her all the time.  This fear started randomly because of a decorative crab made of brass that was my grandmothers.  I can't imagine why anyone would have such a bizarre fear..(*nervous chuckle*)  Wonder where that came from?  Perhaps it could be...

     I know that I have some good traits as a person.  I truly care about people, I'm tender-hearted, and I am loving.  Why is it then that I feel like the only traits I have given my children are bad ones?  My parents told me once before the twins were born that Princess was strong willed and that while she needs to learn control, that is a trait that will help make her successful in life.  I'm not sure it's very endearing in preschool, but I know they are right.  I also know that the trait came from me.  Dean is definitely strong-willed, but she got the agressiveness from her mother.  I sit here asking myself, "Why don't they mimic the good things?" "Do I not do anything that is positive in front of them?" "Do I subconsciously only see the bad traits I pass along to them?"  "Should I start saving up for bail in the future?" (just kidding)

This is one of those times that I'm just going to have to try to improve the personality traits I project and pray really hard.  Here's the best I can do in my current state:

"Dear God, you know I'm crazy.  You also know that I don't want to make my children that way by showing them only uncontrolled behavior traits.  Help me, God, to realize that I have three little people depending on me to stay close to You so they can learn how to act.  Make me better, Lord, as a person, mother, wife, teacher, and woman.  I will praise You forever. Amen."

Sparrows (and other little things)

^"29 Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care.³⁰ And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. ³¹ So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows." Matthew 10: 20-32

 "Look at the birds of the air; they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they?" (Matthew 6:26)

     I've always loved these verses of scripture that remind us of how God feels about us as well as the song they are said to inspire.  That song, "His Eye is on the Sparrow" written by Cevilla Martin, has always spoken to me in an intense way, especially the key line that says, "His eye is on the sparrow, and I know he watches me."  I am in awe that I serve a Creator who takes care of even the smallest of His creations.  What is even more humbling to me is that He doesn't just watch over me, insignificant speck that I am, He also cares for the "insignificant" parts of my life.  Why is it He does so?  He has an entire universe under His watch and care, so surely I can tend to the little things in life, right?  Even if I mess up the little things, they aren't going to destroy my being, so why does He feel the need to tend to my tiniest of woes?  Let's think about it...
     I found myself with only my youngest of children at home the other evening, which rarely happens.  Princess was with Papaw, Tinker had charmed Dean into taking her with him on the tractor, and Bubby was left with me.  He was grumpy from allergies and not at all happy about being left behind.  At 14 months old, he didn't understand why a little case of allergies made a ride through a hay field with Dad a bad idea.  In an attempt to cheer him up, I did what I knew he would love best...I took him outside.  Those who know me, know that this is a big deal.  I am not crazy about being outside just for the sake of being outdoors.  I have no problem with the outdoors, I just get bored hanging out in the yard.  I really wanted to be inside cleaning up so that I could get in bed as early as possible, but I knew it would help Bubby's mood, so out we went.  I've already confessed that I'm bad at imaginative play, but in addition, I'm also bad at coming up with a way to play outside (I mean that is why we bought a swing set, right?).  At a loss for what to do, I walked him around the yard, looked at the butterflies on the butterfly bush, knocked off the tiny flowers on the white crepe bush, piled the few dead leaves up in a tiny bunched for him to stomp through, and had a little tickle fight on the ground.  The tickle fight was his favorite part.  He'd throw his little head back and let out a laugh that surely started in his toes.  He'd start laughing before my hands could even touch him.  He looked at me with those blue eyes that you could swim laps in, and I know for sure that I saw true joy deep within them.  Then it hit me.
     It was the small gestures of my attention that made him so joyful.  The time and effort I put into helping him forget how bad he felt made him feel loved.  At one point, he wrapped his chubby little arms around my neck and planted a slobbery kiss right on my face.  Would he have been okay if I had stayed in and let him follow me from room to room while straightening up?  Sure, but he would have been miserable and the mood would probably have worn off onto me.  Why then, would I put off things that had to be done in order to just cheer him up and tend to the little problems in his life?  Because I love him, of course.  A sense of renewal ran through me as I realized that God wants to do just that for us.  He wants to take us out of our sour mood and show us the beauty and joys of life.  He wants to give us moments of love and affection.  He wants us to know that even the little moments matter, and we're not alone.  What a wonderful Savior we have.  
  If ever you feel alone, ladies, just remember, you serve a God of the details.  For surely, if His eye is on the sparrow, He's watching you and me too.

"God, I'm so in awe of Your love, that I am truly speechless in Your presence.  Thank You for caring about the little things.  I will love, praise, and worship You forever."