Wednesday, September 06, 2006

50 first dates... with my Redeemer

So this morning (being Tuesday morning) I was sitting on the sofa, holding my little man in my lap, cuddling with him under the covers, and thanking God for every precious moment that He was giving me with this wonderful gift. Suddenly TinyToes jumped up, turned off the T.V. and turned to me with a grin. "Time to go to church," he announced proudly, startling me out of my reverie. And I smiled. My little boy knows what it is like to attend church every Sunday, and someday he will know that it means more than spending time with special friends, singing "Jesus Loves Me", and watching Veggie Tales. We have begun his love affair with the Lord at an early age, and I am eager to see what his little heart and mind have to teach me about loving my Christ.

So I got up, and we got ready for the day. I admit that I was sad that he had finally fully awoken. There are very few moments when the child is actually still, and even rarer are the moments when he allows me to cuddle with him while he is still. Usually I'm cuddling a squirming Booger. But then the bustle of life started and I found new joys in conversing with this tiny child. I quizzed him on where this article of clothing went, and how to put on that one. He laughed and smiled, and was everything that a young mother dreams her child will become: accomodating, sweet, gentle, happy, well-adjusted, and unknowingly showing me that he has truly trusted every aspect of his well-being into my hands. He was loving me unconditionally, as few people over the age of six are capable of doing. I pray that we can find a way to nurture this in him, to grow it, and to "train him up in the way he will go" so that "when he is old, he will not depart from it."

It bothers me sometimes that I am able to pray for my child what I cannot pray for myself. I hope things for him that I do not yet desire in my own walk with the Lord. This bothers me. I cannot be an example to my baby, and he will learn most of his faith away from home, instead of from me -- the one he should be learning from.

Anyway... I took him to his daycare so that I could get started on my own busy day, and on my way back, I noticed that two more roses bloomed overnight on the bushes under my front window. And it struck me:

A few weeks ago, I thought that those rose bushes were dead. They had no leaves, and few branches. I had transplanted them from another garden in the hopes of creating my own garden -- a plentiful supply of my second favorite flower. (My first favorite is the daisy, which is glorious in all it's simplicity.) In the process of transplanting, however, many of the bushes did indeed die. I planted the roots anyway, hoping that in a year or two, I may have new plants. We'll see.

So I see these two beautiful new blooms: a distinct pale pink -- each petal as soft and vibrant as a silken breast cancer ribbon. I walked right up to the plant to get a good smell of these lovely dew covered "rose babies" (my pet name for a brand new bloom). And I saw the stems from two flowers that had bloomed last week. It's funny because the old ones stems and the new roses formed a kind of stair step pattern, reminding me of Christmas pageants where four kids stand on two stairs. The bottom row had lost all of the petals, and the stamen were all bowed outward. They really just looked sad and dreary and done. I was very tempted to just cut them now, but didn't because I know that those stamen are heavy with whatever it is they make (is it pollen?), and are going to fertilize other plants to become new buds. But oh! are they ugly! And the two "babies" were so beautiful, each petal separated from the other in that "second day rose" phase. And it reminded me of all that God has done in my life. Those four roses represent the difference between what I was, and what I am now; what I could have been, and what I could be.

And that... that right there... That is why every day I fall more in love with my true Redeemer. Even when I am disappointed about my choices and what I have ruined for myself, even when I am wallowing in self pity and pride, He lifts me up. He turns my rotten, old, half eaten flowers into the germination of a beautiful, wonderful, and bountiful garden.

How could I not fall in love all over again?

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