My Joyful One is two

Orion and I were too sick to make a cake, but my Annalyn Joy turned two today anyway. Little ice cream cones, lacking candles, sufficed as celebration enough for our droopy eyes and slimy noses, systems racked with fever and chills. She didn't complain once, my little girl, but instead I got a lot of extra cuddles. They won't last long enough.

I remember sitting in church on this morning two years ago. It was then, as now, Advent, and I was waiting for the birth of a child. Glorious music was sung from Handel's Messiah, and I smiled secretly to myself.

He shall feed His flock like a shepherd,
and He shall gather the lambs with His arm,
and carry them in His bosom,
and gently lead those that are with young.

Come unto Him all ye that labour,
come unto Him that are heavy laden,
and He will give you rest.

Take His yoke upon you, and learn of Him,
for He is meek and lowly of heart,
and ye shall find rest unto your souls.

I was given new access into this truth that day, and a few hours later she was born. And what a joyful, blessed birth it was.

Happy birthday, Annalyn Joy. You make my life better.

I often feel my world is small. My vision is short, my concerns are domestic. When I occasionally wipe the sleep from my eyes, I think about the possibilities of being in a new city and  how I would like to live intentionally. I want to have meaningful relationships with my neighbours; I would like our home to be a place of peace in our community, a place of God's justice and a place of encountering the Spirit. And then a child needs my attention and it is once again diverted from the world outside my door.

It seems I just don't have the strength or the attention span to tackle more than the task in front of me, which feels pretty monumental most of the time. Sometimes I shudder at the thought of how much influence I'm having in these little lives.

I read this passage in Jesus Rediscovered a few days ago, and figured it might make a good launching point for a blog post.

"Public benevolence can never be a substitute for private virtue; it is more important, and more difficult, to check one outburst of temper, however trivial, than to engage in any number of public demonstrations against collective brutality and injustice."

-Malcolm Muggeridge

But today was not a good day. As a friend put it, "Today I failed at being a mommy." When the darkness in my own heart gets pushed and yanked and brought into the light for those I love most to see, I realize again that for God to change my own heart really is nothing short of earth-shatteringly miraculous.

So I hope that the Prince of Peace, born into the smallest and humblest of circumstances, might also make His dwelling in me. It is Advent, and I am waiting.