Good Friday

As I was singing to Ruby while rocking her to sleep this week, the same song kept coming to mind. Stuart Townend's How Deep the Father's Love is one of my favorites. 

"How deep the Father's love for us, 
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure

How great the pain of searing loss,
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen One,
Bring many sons to glory."

This Easter season, Good Friday has taken on a whole new meaning in my heart. Now that I have my own child, the word "searing" seems the perfect fit to describe the loss that God felt as His only Son was crucified, taking on the sin of the world. A loss that is extreme, intense, and leaves its mark upon the one experiencing it. 

This week I got my panties in a wad when someone cut me off in traffic. I got my feelings hurt , and I was offended when an individual falsely accused me of something. I raised my voice when Ruby was screaming non stop while water was pouring out of my bathroom pipes. I wanted to make Levi feel guilty for not being available during a hard time. I spent an enormous amount of time on facebook and about 10 minutes in prayer. I gossiped. I doubted that God really had any kind of plan for me and my family. I complained. I grumbled. I assumed I was better than the next person. The list goes on. 

God's grace has allowed me to recognize (although I'll never understand) His searing loss, His Son's sacrifice, and the implications it has for my stony heart. Christ came for the sick, He served, and He was obedient even to the point of death. The same power that raised Christ from the dead is in me, empowering me to love and extend grace, kindness, and even (gasp!) forgiveness. I am privileged to share in His sufferings. I pray that when searing loss inevitably comes my way that I will count it as an honor to share in Christ's sufferings and will always be mindful of the hope I have in Him. 

I just don't really know what to do except keep singing those verses over and over again until they penetrate deeply. 

How deep the Father's love for us! 

Christmas

Ruby, your first Christmas was a fun but busy one! We began our Christmas festivities at Papa and Gigi's house a few days before Christmas. Here we ate beef tenderloin, mashed potatoes, green beans, and red velvet cake. We enjoyed Gigi's beautiful decorations and her giant nativity scene. We opened presents, and you received some clothes, bows, shoes, and a pack and play to sleep in when you travel. Your cousin Evie did not seem to mind you as much as she once did, and Aunt Lauren and Aunt Hill loved getting to hold you!

That night, we packed up the car and headed for Kansas City around ten o' clock. Uncle Seth rode with us. I sat in the back with you and crossed my fingers that you would sleep the whole way. You did! We stopped one time for gas, and arrived in Kansas City seven hours later a little sleepy but in good spirits! We spent the whole day at Great Aunt Jude's house, celebrating with the Miller extended family. We ate together, opened presents, and took a family picture in the basement. Your facial rash flared pretty badly, so I worried about that. I spent part of the day on the phone with Papa and a misinformed nurse through the medical exchange that was sure you had cellulitis. You didn't.

That night, we packed up the car again and headed for Wichita. You slept the whole way again, and finally made it to Nana and Coach's house for the first time! We had such a great time spending time with family, opening presents, playing games, and eating our weight in cookie dough balls and other baked goods (all the while your rash got worse and worse and spread down to your trunk and legs). Nana never stopped cooking or baking! Aunt Shiloh and all your uncles passed you around and so enjoyed spending time with you. One night Coach babysat you so that I could go see Les Mis. We even got to spend a few extra days in Wichita, because Little Rock had a snow/ice storm and the road conditions were unsafe for travel.

A week later, we packed up for the third time and headed home. The trip home was a little brutal. You were awake almost the whole time, screaming to eat or to get out of your car seat. Eventually, though, we made it home to unpack all of our Christmas loot. Whew. What a week!

Next year I hope to have a special time just as a family of three to celebrate the birth of Christ. I also hope to start a few Christmas traditions. This year was a bit of a blur, and I didn't feel as if I had the time or energy to do this! Someday I hope you understand how important and special Christmas is to us as Christians. I pray you realize that Jesus came to earth to defeat death and give us hope and life. A little heavy handed for an 8 week old, but maybe in a few years! :)