Growing

We are growing together, the seven of us that make up this family in this little yellow house.

Sometimes I give into the pressure that I need to know it all, have it all, be it all for these little people. That's not God-pressure, though. Sure, there's an aspect of parenting in which I require obedience from my children-- and hopefully I am keeping one step ahead of them so that I can point out the way to Jesus-- but it's not about me being better than them or smarter than them or holier than them. The truth is, there are also the moments when I am stopped short mid-sentence, realizing how sharp and hostile my words are-- knowing that I am setting a bad example, instilling fret where there should be security, weighing down when I ought to be lifting up. I get down on my knees and I pull little bodies close to myself.

Children are quick to forgive.
(I am challenged by their example in this.)

Claire is moving around these days. Not crawling, not even scootching. But somehow getting from the spot I sat her down to the other side of the room. And still sitting upright, at that.

We all gather around and cheer her on in each new thing. You should see the way the other kids beam when Daniel starts playing his guitar and she starts clapping her hands: you'd think she was the brightest and most clever baby that ever lived.