Sunday Sanctuary

Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith? (Matthew 6:28-30 NKJV)

Image captured by Anika Lacerte.

Sunday Sanctuary

All new, from my favourite artist ever... Steven Curtis Chapman. 

The extraordinary in the midst of the ordinary, and a reminder to do it all -- from laundry to potty training -- for HIM!

As alwasy, "thank you Steven for inspiring me once again!"

Mom to the Rescue

I have a new title; one that won’t mean a whole lot to you. But to my daughter, it means everything.

Allow me to introduce myself: I am Super-Mom, Scrump Remover Extraordinaire.

What is a scrump? Well, that depends on who you ask.

According to UrbanDictionary.com, a “scrump” is anything from the act of stealing apples, to having sex. (Yes, sex. Apparently “screw” and “hump” joined forces to become “scrump.” What a sad, sad commentary on the decay of our English language. But I digress...). The Free Online Dictionary, says that a “scrump” is something withered or shriveled or dried up.

However to my almost-three-year-old daughter, the word “scrump” has come to define anything she sees that she doesn’t like. Whether it be a fleck of lint on her shirt or pants, a microscopic thread from fabric between her toes, or a teeny, tiny piece of vegetable or even finely diced herbs in her pasta or rice, when Abbie whines that there’s a “scrump”, Super-Mom flies to the rescue.

Scrump removing is very serious business in our house, or at least it is to our daughter. While my husband and I do our best to stifle our laughter at each battle Super-Mommy has with the latest scrump, to Abbie each encounter with a scrump is monumental, cataclysmic, and dramatic. After all, she’s two-going-on-three, and while she may not understand the U.S. debt crisis, tumbling stock markets or famines in Africa, she does understand scrumps. She also knows that her mommy is always there.

This is my extraordinary calling. 

Now what did I do with my cape?

Image by The Doodle Girl

Milestones

I've been silent for the past few days, with good reason. Potty training has finally arrived to the Lau house, and I am pleased to say that it has finally taken hold. We've celebrated success after success with our little girl, and encountered few accidents. I've sat misty-eyed watching her push aside the last of what made her my baby, and enter into this first stage of true independence. One step closer to womanhood. 

As I reflected on how much she is changing, and the accomplishments she's acheived this week, I found myself starting to wonder even more than usual who she will grow up to be. What she will do with her life, whom she will love. 

And then, like in so many occassions before, the Lord led me to read today's post from Ann Voskamp. Once again, her words are timely for me. I join her in this prayer... for a daughter. 

Here is a portion of what she wrote.... You can read the rest of it HERE.

May she be bread and feed many with her life and her laughter
May she be thread and mend brokeness and knit hearts
May she be dead to all ladders & never go higher,
only lower, to the lonely, the least & the longing
Her led of the Spirit to lead many to the Cross
that leads to the tomb wildly empty.