They have been some rougher days lately.
No big problems, just more fussing than usual, sporadic good and bad feedings, lots of spit (down lots of mommy's clothes), fitful sleep, and plenty of other work to fill in the cracks.
It's a pretty steady temptation to get discouraged or self-pitying or frustrated or stressed or impatient or anxious or any combination thereof.
Last night (before a particularly rough bedtime) I was convicted to savor these days, receive the good, bad, and messy with a grateful heart, and respond with patience and trust and contentedness, even when I don't feel naturally inclined to do so.
When am I going to enjoy Victor and rest in God, if not right in the midst of the perplexing and tiring now?
But godliness with contentment is great gain.--1 Timothy 6:6
Tonight I read a blog that underscored the call to happy, ongoing mini opportunities to die to self.
HT: Desiring God
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Monday, April 23, 2012
Saturday, April 21, 2012
South
The South Site of Bethlehem Baptist Church has been a pretty big part of my life ever since it existed.
January 2006. I was single, post-college, had worked for Bethlehem for about 2 1/2 years. My boss, David Livingston, called me into his office after the annual Pastors' Pray and Plan week.
"I'm going with the new 3rd campus," he stated, "and I'd like you to consider going with me."
The 3rd Campus (for a while, it was debated whether it should be West or South) was unfamiliar territory. Mostly families, south of the river, starting from scratch.
I figured I was kissing good-bye my chances of getting married anytime soon (not like being Downtown with all those TBI guys wandering the halls...), but I loved and trusted my boss and figured this was a good opportunity to trust the Lord and forge into the unknown.
Oh, what stressful, exhausting, exhilarating days led up to the first Sunday service at Burnsville High School (the day before my 25th birthday). I was the Info Booth lady from that day onward.
It was at the South Site Info Booth that a certain young curly-headed fellow started hanging around, raising the suspicions of Mrs. Livingston about his possible interest in me. (I figured everybody hung out at the Info Booth, and he was just being social!) And as time went by, he ended up not only being hired as the new South Site Logistics Coordinator, but asking me to marry him... and sitting behind the tables with me.
How many times did we haul in bins and pinch our fingers setting up tables in that cramped entryway at Burnsville High School? The South Site grew, and 5 years later, at the special anniversary celebration at Lakeville South High School, Ben was asked to give a testimony of God's grace in the past year, which he began, "I'm Ben Katterson, the South Logistics Coordinator. And it's a boy!" (per our recent ultrasound reading...).
I confess to dreading the early months of this year, with a brand new baby on the scene and 4 weeknight classes for Ben... plus a move of our worshiping center to Lakeville South High School for the foreseeable future. And God has answered many prayers, not just to allow us to survive these months, but giving peace and sweet snatches of time together in the middle of it. Now Victor and I hang out at the Info Booth (except for when we have to make our all-important lunch date in the Nursing Mother's Room). And Ben gives his sneakers a workout, chasing down details and keeping things running.
This has been our life for the past 5 1/2 years, moving church in and out of a high school each week, early mornings, late afternoons, tired Sunday evenings with a happy sense of grace.
And last Friday, April 20 marked a turning point.
12.1 acres right on I-35.
Originally priced around $3 million.
One lone bidder at a land auction.
Negotiated price: $760,362
And now the South Site has a home to lean toward.
It will still be a lot of Sundays ahead, hauling trailers, packing bins, setting out brochures and then packing them away again. But there on the horizon is a new time coming--we have waited and prayed and watched.
And when it's here, and the South Campus opens its own doors that first week, I will likely cry, feeling how wonderful and how bittersweet a change it will be.
For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness.--Psalm 84:10
January 2006. I was single, post-college, had worked for Bethlehem for about 2 1/2 years. My boss, David Livingston, called me into his office after the annual Pastors' Pray and Plan week.
"I'm going with the new 3rd campus," he stated, "and I'd like you to consider going with me."
The 3rd Campus (for a while, it was debated whether it should be West or South) was unfamiliar territory. Mostly families, south of the river, starting from scratch.
I figured I was kissing good-bye my chances of getting married anytime soon (not like being Downtown with all those TBI guys wandering the halls...), but I loved and trusted my boss and figured this was a good opportunity to trust the Lord and forge into the unknown.
Oh, what stressful, exhausting, exhilarating days led up to the first Sunday service at Burnsville High School (the day before my 25th birthday). I was the Info Booth lady from that day onward.
It was at the South Site Info Booth that a certain young curly-headed fellow started hanging around, raising the suspicions of Mrs. Livingston about his possible interest in me. (I figured everybody hung out at the Info Booth, and he was just being social!) And as time went by, he ended up not only being hired as the new South Site Logistics Coordinator, but asking me to marry him... and sitting behind the tables with me.
How many times did we haul in bins and pinch our fingers setting up tables in that cramped entryway at Burnsville High School? The South Site grew, and 5 years later, at the special anniversary celebration at Lakeville South High School, Ben was asked to give a testimony of God's grace in the past year, which he began, "I'm Ben Katterson, the South Logistics Coordinator. And it's a boy!" (per our recent ultrasound reading...).
I confess to dreading the early months of this year, with a brand new baby on the scene and 4 weeknight classes for Ben... plus a move of our worshiping center to Lakeville South High School for the foreseeable future. And God has answered many prayers, not just to allow us to survive these months, but giving peace and sweet snatches of time together in the middle of it. Now Victor and I hang out at the Info Booth (except for when we have to make our all-important lunch date in the Nursing Mother's Room). And Ben gives his sneakers a workout, chasing down details and keeping things running.
This has been our life for the past 5 1/2 years, moving church in and out of a high school each week, early mornings, late afternoons, tired Sunday evenings with a happy sense of grace.
And last Friday, April 20 marked a turning point.
12.1 acres right on I-35.
Originally priced around $3 million.
One lone bidder at a land auction.
Negotiated price: $760,362
And now the South Site has a home to lean toward.
It will still be a lot of Sundays ahead, hauling trailers, packing bins, setting out brochures and then packing them away again. But there on the horizon is a new time coming--we have waited and prayed and watched.
And when it's here, and the South Campus opens its own doors that first week, I will likely cry, feeling how wonderful and how bittersweet a change it will be.
For a day in your courts is better than a thousand elsewhere. I would rather be a doorkeeper in the house of my God than dwell in the tents of wickedness.--Psalm 84:10
Wednesday, April 18, 2012
Birthday Party
Saturday, Victor and I hosted a little root beer float birthday party for Daddy.
What a lovely day (thank You, Lord), and what fun to celebrate with family and friends.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Church!
Yesterday was full of church.
Church in the morning, with a Covenant Affirmation pre-service meeting and two services at the Info Booth. (Victor barely slept for a few minutes, and he did NOT fall asleep again once I got him home and bundled in bed for the ending of his normal naptime!)
Church in the evening, for another Covenant Affirmation pre-service meeting. Then a worship service, and a post-service meeting about some potential land for our South Site! (Victor slept for maybe 20 min... and he did NOT fall asleep on the way home!)
We like church.
I fed the tuckered-out little boy at 9:00pm... and he slept until 5:30am!
Church in the morning, with a Covenant Affirmation pre-service meeting and two services at the Info Booth. (Victor barely slept for a few minutes, and he did NOT fall asleep again once I got him home and bundled in bed for the ending of his normal naptime!)
Church in the evening, for another Covenant Affirmation pre-service meeting. Then a worship service, and a post-service meeting about some potential land for our South Site! (Victor slept for maybe 20 min... and he did NOT fall asleep on the way home!)
We like church.
I fed the tuckered-out little boy at 9:00pm... and he slept until 5:30am!
A Few Words from Victor
Victor has been doing a lot of deep thinking lately.
But I'll let him share in his own words:
Thank you for those thoughts, little buddy.
But I'll let him share in his own words:
Thank you for those thoughts, little buddy.
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Friday, April 13, 2012
Little
If you're a mom, you've spent an exhausting day which (upon further reflection) bears no apparent fruit of productivity. You've carefully wiped all the counters down, only to find that two seconds later, they are both smeared with remnants of food and stacked with dirty dishes (most of which have cemented-on residue). You've cleaned that little teeny bottom with tender loving care, only to hear the world's biggest blow-out as soon as you sit down.
So if you are struggling (or have struggled) with a sense that all your labors may not really be counting for much, this is a really encouraging blog post.
So if you are struggling (or have struggled) with a sense that all your labors may not really be counting for much, this is a really encouraging blog post.
Masculinity and Daddy
I was reading in Gospel-Powered Parenting the other day.
The deeper a man's relationship with God's Son, the more potent his masculinity will gradually become. ...
Boys learn masculinity from their fathers. ... In fact, numerous studies have shown that both girls and boys obtain their sexual identity by interaction with their fathers, not their mothers.
"Fathers must train their sons to be masculine and their daughters to be feminine," notes David Megener. "They must inculcate bravery and initiating, sacrificial love in their sons by teaching, example and practice. Fathers must train their daughters to be nurturers and to respond to the initiating love of a strong and worthy man. They can do this by encouragement and direction and by their own relationship with their daughter." (Farley, 138)
What a responsibility for the heads of household to bear. This makes me doubly thankful for my own dad, who (whether I knew it or not) pretty well shaped my idea of the man I wanted to marry and what loving leadership is.
And how we should pray for the dads among us, to rise up into this calling and raise a generation of little boys who grow to be strong, sacrificial leaders like Jesus and little girls who grow to give grace to and flourish in the leading and protection of worthy men around them.
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Sweet Easter Weekend
Victor and I had a little road trip together for Easter weekend (while Ben stayed home, did homework, facilitated church, and generally persevered through this season of craziness).
Saturday's adventure was the fabulous birthday party of cousin Hudson... in his super cool new home! What a big man!
It was so lovely to spend time with the fam too...
We missed the Lasers but got to skype them on Saturday.
Victor was able to meet both my grandmas, which was so sweet.
And celebrating Resurrection Sunday with the church family where I grew up, for the first time with my son, was a great gift.
Saturday's adventure was the fabulous birthday party of cousin Hudson... in his super cool new home! What a big man!
It was so lovely to spend time with the fam too...
We missed the Lasers but got to skype them on Saturday.
Victor was able to meet both my grandmas, which was so sweet.
And celebrating Resurrection Sunday with the church family where I grew up, for the first time with my son, was a great gift.
Love’s redeeming work is done, Alleluia!
Fought the fight, the battle won, Alleluia!
Lo! the Sun’s eclipse is over, Alleluia!
Lo! He sets in blood no more, Alleluia!
Vain the stone, the watch, the seal, Alleluia!
Christ hath burst the gates of hell, Alleluia!
Death in vain forbids His rise, Alleluia!
Christ hath opened paradise, Alleluia!
"Christ the Lord Is Risen Today" (Wesley)
Monday, April 9, 2012
Wonderful Weekend
Victor and I just returned from a wonderful weekend in Iowa. This is when I start praying for God to tell everybody else in my family that they should move to Minnesota so we can hang out more often...
It was a sweet time! More thoughts to come. After the laundry is done and the general chaos created by traveling subsides.
Love to you all!
Sunday, April 8, 2012
Gospel Love and Hair Lice
A friend called me up a few days ago.
I hadn't talked to her for quite a long time; I knew her from Bible study, but that was before marriage (not to speak of baby). She needed some help.
I'm struggling with hair lice, she said. And I don't know who can help me.
It sent me back about a decade, to a horrible time in college. I was sitting in the nurse's office, crying at the news that, yes, I had lice. It was a terrible feeling... itchy, ashamed, lonely, helpless.
Who would help me? It's one thing to room with a buddy and ask to borrow her car or something, but deal with this? No way.
It was this time of year--about a week before Easter. I pulled my jacket on and walked through a chilling breeze across the street and down the road to Fuddruckers. I ate chicken wild rice soup in a bread bowl. Hardly enjoyed it, feeling wretched.
On the way back, I called my parents. I couldn't quite keep my voice from breaking as I told them. I have lice.
They were 5 hours away in Iowa. My dad was busy with work, my mom at home, busy with keeping home home, like she did for my whole childhood.
And I didn't even have to ask them. 6 hours later, they were with me in Minneapolis, picking up the treatment from the drug store and checking into a hotel across the street from campus.
It was a horrible, nightmarish time, my mom picking through my hair, strand by strand, late, late into the night. I dozed a little, I suppose, until she finished the terrible task. The light in the hotel room cast a wan yellow gleam. I lay with my head in my mom's lap on a towel, my stomach clenched, hating the idea of living things crawling on my head, hating the imposition to my parents, hating the embarrassing confession I had to make to my roommates, hating the numb weariness that played games with my mind.
When it was all over, we all slept a few hours, and then they packed back up and headed home.
It was a brief episode, in the grand scheme of things. One more treatment a week later, when I was home for Easter. Then it was done. Just a memory.
But I can't think of a time when I have felt more acutely the kind of gospel love that Jesus gave. So disgusting. So costly. So inconvenient. So ugly.
And a reaching-out love that didn't wait for me to make it worth her while, didn't complain at the nastiness of the task, didn't look for payback or recompense, willingly stepped into a problem not her own.
That was a decade ago, but I remember the sensations vividly. I've been a bit paranoid of an itchy scalp ever since.
And I had an opportunity, a chance to show gospel love myself.
She needed a haircut.
So, hair back in a bandana, rubber gloves on, I met her in the garage, armed with squirt bottle and scissors. It was a beautiful day, sun streaming down on us as I clipped and combed.
I'm no hairstylist. So it was a crowning grace of God that at the end, she thought it was kinda cute.
I stripped off the top layer of clothes, left my shoes on the front step, showered again, boiled the scissors, dumped the clothes and towels straight into the washer... and felt a strange joy to share in that kind of gospel love.
It's not really impressive, you know, when compared to the real source of gospel love.
Surely our griefs He Himself bore, and our sorrows He carried; yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the chastening for our well-being fell upon Him, and by His scourging we are healed.--Isaiah 53:4-5
We are healed. And He is risen. Praise God, He is risen indeed!
I hadn't talked to her for quite a long time; I knew her from Bible study, but that was before marriage (not to speak of baby). She needed some help.
I'm struggling with hair lice, she said. And I don't know who can help me.
It sent me back about a decade, to a horrible time in college. I was sitting in the nurse's office, crying at the news that, yes, I had lice. It was a terrible feeling... itchy, ashamed, lonely, helpless.
Who would help me? It's one thing to room with a buddy and ask to borrow her car or something, but deal with this? No way.
It was this time of year--about a week before Easter. I pulled my jacket on and walked through a chilling breeze across the street and down the road to Fuddruckers. I ate chicken wild rice soup in a bread bowl. Hardly enjoyed it, feeling wretched.
On the way back, I called my parents. I couldn't quite keep my voice from breaking as I told them. I have lice.
They were 5 hours away in Iowa. My dad was busy with work, my mom at home, busy with keeping home home, like she did for my whole childhood.
And I didn't even have to ask them. 6 hours later, they were with me in Minneapolis, picking up the treatment from the drug store and checking into a hotel across the street from campus.
It was a horrible, nightmarish time, my mom picking through my hair, strand by strand, late, late into the night. I dozed a little, I suppose, until she finished the terrible task. The light in the hotel room cast a wan yellow gleam. I lay with my head in my mom's lap on a towel, my stomach clenched, hating the idea of living things crawling on my head, hating the imposition to my parents, hating the embarrassing confession I had to make to my roommates, hating the numb weariness that played games with my mind.
When it was all over, we all slept a few hours, and then they packed back up and headed home.
It was a brief episode, in the grand scheme of things. One more treatment a week later, when I was home for Easter. Then it was done. Just a memory.
But I can't think of a time when I have felt more acutely the kind of gospel love that Jesus gave. So disgusting. So costly. So inconvenient. So ugly.
And a reaching-out love that didn't wait for me to make it worth her while, didn't complain at the nastiness of the task, didn't look for payback or recompense, willingly stepped into a problem not her own.
That was a decade ago, but I remember the sensations vividly. I've been a bit paranoid of an itchy scalp ever since.
And I had an opportunity, a chance to show gospel love myself.
She needed a haircut.
So, hair back in a bandana, rubber gloves on, I met her in the garage, armed with squirt bottle and scissors. It was a beautiful day, sun streaming down on us as I clipped and combed.
I'm no hairstylist. So it was a crowning grace of God that at the end, she thought it was kinda cute.
I stripped off the top layer of clothes, left my shoes on the front step, showered again, boiled the scissors, dumped the clothes and towels straight into the washer... and felt a strange joy to share in that kind of gospel love.
It's not really impressive, you know, when compared to the real source of gospel love.
Surely our griefs He Himself bore, and our sorrows He carried; yet we esteemed Him stricken, smitten of God, and afflicted. But He was pierced through for our transgressions, He was crushed for our iniquities; the chastening for our well-being fell upon Him, and by His scourging we are healed.--Isaiah 53:4-5
We are healed. And He is risen. Praise God, He is risen indeed!
Friday, April 6, 2012
3 Months Old
3 months old!
2 months old
1 month old
2 weeks old
Dear Victor,
Today you are 3 months old! What a big boy. We know you're growing and growing (and so are Mom's biceps, hefting you around).
- You are a big eater... took 8 oz in a bottle last week! And if Momma happens to sit you up from eating a bit early, you emit a high-pitched squeal (your version of Grandad's "WHOA THERE, I'm not done" when a waitress tries to take his plate too early!).
- You are a man of repose, folding your hands on your chest when eating, or pondering the weighty matters of life.
- We think your cheeks are fabulous (for reference see post: Thunder Cheeks).
- You are taking in the wide world so much more now! You still love your mobile, and you can be a very distracted eater, particularly if Momma is talking to someone or you have a hunch something exciting is happening in the room. Whether or not anything at all is happening in the room.
- We're pretty sure now that you are sensitive to cow'w milk, and Mom is laying off peanuts and soy too, because they seemed to make you (even more!) spitty and uncomfortable. But saying no to soy milk is not a great sacrifice, son. Missing out on the Shamrock Shakes... well, you're worth it.
- You have officially outgrown the little infant hammock on your bathtub and can splash in the full depth of water like a real swimmer.
- Always the Houdini, you are even more adept at escaping from your swaddling now... except when Momma uses the Miracle Blanket. We've tried not swaddling you at all. Not so good. You enjoy whacking yourself in the face too much for good rest.
- You have grown to tolerate, and even sometimes enjoy your swing. When it's not swinging. I have never before seen a baby who doesn't like swinging, but here you are. (Note: You like when your dad swings you around though!)
- You have big, strong legs and love to stand! We sing "Standing on the Promises of God" with vigor these days...
- Your lungs have a new capacity for hollering, but we must confess that sometimes we chuckle a little at your dramatic cries... and then the pause to see if anybody's listening and planning to come and rescue you from naptime. But what really melts our hearts is your big, whole-body smiles.
What a gift you are to us, son. You have been in our arms for 3 months now, you've existed in the world for about a year, and we know you'll always be. Oh, may Jesus take your heart!
You are our sweet little peanut, and we love you!
Momma
Thursday, April 5, 2012
Holy Week
I have felt quite unsanctified this week.
No major blowouts or spiteful misdeeds, but just a general level of frustration and a grumbling spirit.
The dishes are piling up. The internet won’t work. I don’t have the information I need for my work project. Victor isn’t eating or sleeping super great. Interruptions are putting me behind. Who left their shoes in the middle of the floor where I trip over them? (Me.)
I think that my faith fumbles the most easily not when calamity hits (how often do we find the arms of God so tangible and strong in the hardest moments?) but in the mundane brokenness of everyday life. I believe the promises of God will hold true if the fire of suffering flames up… but I too often slip into a funk of ungratefulness and irritation in the midst of the ordinary.
It’s ugly, really. What grace unfolds in each day! And to ignore that and orient on the stuff that bugs me smothers my joy and makes me an unpleasant and ungracious person to be around. (Sorry, hon.)
So, this Holy Week is a reminder of how far short I fall from holy. And what awesome grace Christ gave, to die for this grumbling sinner and cover me with His own perfect life.
Thank You, Jesus.
10 Other Things I Thank God For:
1) The library had the book Ben needed for his project.
2) Such a beautiful afternoon for a walk yesterday.
3) Victor ate really well last night, a very direct answer to prayer.
4) I have a blue, fuzzy robe.
5) Heading to Iowa tomorrow!
6) Had an idea for dinner… and all the needed ingredients.
7) Almost all the laundry is done.
8) Had time to make oatmeal raisin cookies and banana bread.
9) Psalm 77- remember God’s faithfulness in the past; He will be faithful for all the future.
10) My sweet husband and son are here with me.
No major blowouts or spiteful misdeeds, but just a general level of frustration and a grumbling spirit.
The dishes are piling up. The internet won’t work. I don’t have the information I need for my work project. Victor isn’t eating or sleeping super great. Interruptions are putting me behind. Who left their shoes in the middle of the floor where I trip over them? (Me.)
I think that my faith fumbles the most easily not when calamity hits (how often do we find the arms of God so tangible and strong in the hardest moments?) but in the mundane brokenness of everyday life. I believe the promises of God will hold true if the fire of suffering flames up… but I too often slip into a funk of ungratefulness and irritation in the midst of the ordinary.
It’s ugly, really. What grace unfolds in each day! And to ignore that and orient on the stuff that bugs me smothers my joy and makes me an unpleasant and ungracious person to be around. (Sorry, hon.)
So, this Holy Week is a reminder of how far short I fall from holy. And what awesome grace Christ gave, to die for this grumbling sinner and cover me with His own perfect life.
Thank You, Jesus.
10 Other Things I Thank God For:
1) The library had the book Ben needed for his project.
2) Such a beautiful afternoon for a walk yesterday.
3) Victor ate really well last night, a very direct answer to prayer.
4) I have a blue, fuzzy robe.
5) Heading to Iowa tomorrow!
6) Had an idea for dinner… and all the needed ingredients.
7) Almost all the laundry is done.
8) Had time to make oatmeal raisin cookies and banana bread.
9) Psalm 77- remember God’s faithfulness in the past; He will be faithful for all the future.
10) My sweet husband and son are here with me.
Monday, April 2, 2012
Advice
One thing about being a mother is that I have entered the brave new world of motherhood advice. It's incredible how many brilliant, contradictory, illuminating, and confusing suggestions fly around once you have a little tot to rear...
Thank you, Marcy, for this article (and your prayers!). Helpful perspective (and mighty true!).
Thank you, Marcy, for this article (and your prayers!). Helpful perspective (and mighty true!).
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Happy Birthday, Dear!
Dear Benjamin,
You are my husband, my friend, my fellow parent, my tease, my ruffian, my love.
You make me laugh.
You rub my shoulders and get the knots out of my neck.
You almost never walk past me without kissing me... even when I'm grumpy about it.
You read the Scripture with intensity, trying to wring new insights out of it each time.
You walk and pray.
You write me notes about the greatness of God.
You labor at your schoolwork, even after you've labored at work all day.
You don't want me to clean the toilet; you say it's your job.
You kill bugs.
The last year of life has thrown us into a radical new adventure; the next year of life proves to hold just as much change and unknown. I'm glad to go forward into it with you.
To this end also we pray for your always, that our God may count you worthy of your calling and fulfill every desire for goodness and the work of faith with power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus Christ may be glorified in you, and you in Him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ. 2 Thessalonians 1:10-11
Celebratory cupcakes at staff meeting Wednesday
You are my husband, my friend, my fellow parent, my tease, my ruffian, my love.
You make me laugh.
You rub my shoulders and get the knots out of my neck.
You almost never walk past me without kissing me... even when I'm grumpy about it.
You read the Scripture with intensity, trying to wring new insights out of it each time.
You walk and pray.
You write me notes about the greatness of God.
You labor at your schoolwork, even after you've labored at work all day.
You don't want me to clean the toilet; you say it's your job.
You kill bugs.
The last year of life has thrown us into a radical new adventure; the next year of life proves to hold just as much change and unknown. I'm glad to go forward into it with you.
To this end also we pray for your always, that our God may count you worthy of your calling and fulfill every desire for goodness and the work of faith with power, so that the name of our Lord Jesus Christ may be glorified in you, and you in Him, according to the grace of our God and the Lord Jesus Christ. 2 Thessalonians 1:10-11
Celebratory cupcakes at staff meeting Wednesday
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