Zacchaeus: Day 3...The tax collector

Today Molly and I talked about what it meant for Zachaeus to be a "tax collector."  In our game today, the big, bad tax collector was played by "Evil Dr. Porkchop."

 

I set up some stuffed animals with piles of money in front of them for our tax collector to collect.

 I told her, "Zacheas had to take 1 coin from each person, but he took more than he should!  Is that a good choice or a bad choice?"  She said, "that's a bad choice, Zacchaeus!"

And she scooped up all the coins and put them in her piggy bank.  (She LOVES to play with money, so this proved to be an easy thing to get her to do.)  

 We dumped out all the coins and counted them.

 Then I told her, "After Zacchaes met Jesus, he wanted to be nice to everyone and give their money back!"  Molly just wanted to feed her toys the coins so her answer was, "Oh what a good idea!  That sounds delicious!" 

 And I ended with, "and everyone was so happy that they got their money back and they knew that Zachaeus was nice after he met Jesus!" 

 I really don't know how much Molly understood what a tax collector does, or how after we know Jesus, he helps us be nice to other people, but she did love playing with her coins!

Zacchaeus: Days 1 &2

In our new church, there are two wonderful ladies who volunteer to take my daughter and her 3 year old friend, Lily, each week and teach them a Sunday School lesson.  I am so thankful that they take the time to miss a service twice a month to speak truth into their little lives.  Molly learned about Zacchaeus this week and made these paper bag puppets.

We pray with Molly each night before bed, read her a story from the Bible, and pray before we eat, but I'm not very deliberate about teaching Molly the truth of the Scriptures and how to apply it to our lives.   She talks a LOT, and I know she understands more than I think she does, so having her now in Sunday School inspired me to be a little more proactive in teaching her little heart about the things of Jesus.  So yesterday, it was all about the song.

And today we made a little craft to teach about the tree that Zacchaeus climbed.  My sister, Amy, said I should blog about it, so here it is....

I cut strips into a brown paper bag.  (In this case, I just used a Dunkin Donuts bag I happened to have in the car.)

Twisted the center. 

And spread out the branches.

  

Molly and I tore little leaves out of construction paper.  Half way through, she got tired, and I tore and she put them in a bowl. I told her, "We're making a sycamore tree." And she asked, "Is that Zacchia's tree?" My heart did a little victory dance when I realized she's putting it all together.  

And we added the leaves onto the tree with tacky glue.

We used another coloring project from last week's lesson (I think it was Bartamaeus) and turned him into Zacchaeus and glued him in the tree.

I drew Jesus on the chalkboard saying, "Zaccheaus, you come down!  I'm going to your house today!"

 On our chalkboard in the kitchen, our verse comes from the story of Zacchaeus, and we're memorizing it together as a family this week.  

 

       And as I was being a negligent blogging mama, Molly decided to turn her couch over.  I asked, "Molly did you climb up on your couch like Zaccheaus climbed the tree!?" She smiled and said, "Yes!  Just like Zaccheaus.  I climbed!"  It's all about the teachable moments. :) 

Happy Birthday, Josiah.

There has been reminder after reminder that this day was approaching.

Daffodils in the yard, just like the ones I picked and put on the table the day you came home.

The card in the mail from JCPenny reminding me to schedule your birthday photo shoot. (Even though I told them LAST YEAR to take you off of their mailing list.) 

The amazing moon.

The chilly air turning into warm gusts that beckon spring and new life.

And our fine arts competition at school. Sitting in a room watching judges painstakingly score art projects, just like the day your daddy came through that door, wide eyed, fast talking, phone in hand. "Girl or boy?! Girl or boy?!" I remember rambling and my heart swelling and hearing the answer... "Boy!"

It was that word and that moment that changed me into a mommy.  I wouldn't trade that sweet memory for anything in the world, except maybe for still having you with us. 

I've debated for weeks now if I should send you a card. A present. Something to let you know I remember you, I love you, I miss you. But, my heart can't take the thought that it would possibly get torn or discarded and never reach you. So instead I just come to my safe place here and beckon as loud as I can with typed words.

Today I am celebrating your birth.

Today I am celebrating your life.

Today I am celebrating that you are here, even though you're not with me.

Tonight I'll find the moon and feel my heart still tied to yours, and pray your life is celebrated as much as it possibly can be by everyone that loves you.

Happy Birthday, Josiah.

Memorial video

This is a video my sister, brother-in-law, and I put together of pictures we had of Gregg.  Gregg would have loved that it had Johnny Cash songs on it.  The pictures towards the end with my girls make me smile.  He really loved them.

Exhale

In my house there are two distinct seasons.  1- Basketball season and 2- Not basketball season.  Justin has coached our varsity girls team for the past 5 years, and it used to be so much fun when we did it together.  But in the A.M. (after Molly) it has been a struggle to keep our house running smoothly when Justin doesn't get home until after 6 (after 9 sometimes on away games) from the beginning of November until March.  I would try to bring the littles to games sometimes, but with the daily "5:00 meltdown" when grumpy hungry bear cubs would awake from naps and tummy alarms would go off, it was a struggle to even get the girls into the car with coats on....let alone keep them on bleachers for an hour and a half.  Let's be honest.... I could rarely watch anything when I would go, even with the help of my ipod and some toddler-friendly technology.

But we have now reached my favorite time of year....NOT basketball season!  (And yes, I know, I'm a spoiled wife who loves when her husband gets home at 4:00).  It's so lovely to cook together, take family walks, and generally have some time to breathe before dinner gets on the table and food gets scarfed, books get read, bath tubs get filled, and two exhausted parents collapse on the couch at 9:00.  

This year has been particularly stressful.  Add to the mix a few plagues that knocked us down in December and January, Justin finishing up his last semester of his master's degree with lots of papers and an internship, and oh yes....starting a new church with Justin as the associate pastor, I'm surprised we've made it to March with hair still on my head and a ring still on my finger.  I need to take a long deep breath and let my frustrations out.  And this seems to be the place that I do it.  Lucky you.  You get to read my verbal drabble.  

Now that I have a little more time to myself when there's an extra set of hands to help with the girls, I feel I can start to address and begin to process what's happened this past month.  On February second, we found out that my brother, Gregg, passed away.  I hate to say it so candidly.  I don't know how to say it at all.  It sounds weird when I say it, even worse when I type it.  Written words are so official and final.  We still don't know what happened exactly, other it was accidental.

I don't know how to talk about his life and his death in a way that neither desecrates his character, nor glorifies a life that wasn't lived to its fullest potential.  I will say that the part of him that I that I will miss so much is how much he loved my girls and my dog that he adopted from me.

                                           

Molly just loved her Uncle Gregg.  I loved watching his face when she opened up her motorcycle he bought her for her second birthday this September.

I find myself contemplating mortality more.  I hate how losses get all clumped together in my head and the loss of another loved one makes me miss my son.  I think how unprepared I would be if Justin were suddenly not here.  I find myself being so thankful for this life God has given me.  I am reminded of how important it is to tell those we love that we love them.

I realize that these thoughts have been scattered, but that's all I have energy for.  Words and deep breaths.  Bracing for the hard work of grieving loss once again, and thankful that I now get to spend more time with my favorite basketball coach/ assistant pastor/ master's degree pursuer/ husband/ father/ friend.  

The Better Half of a Hypocrite's Life

I've learned to tell this story with great gusto and enthusiasm.  It usually buys me about ten minutes of absolute silence of a room full of ninth grade swooning girls and wide-eyed ninth grade boys who are eager to find fodder to tease their Bible teacher (Justin) with.

It usually starts with, "Do you want to hear the story how Mr. Benson and I started dating?" and ends with a five minute lecture of how MOST people don't end up marrying the person they date in ninth grade, so "don't date until you're 30, kids!"

It started at a friend's Superbowl party, where I happened to sit next to Justin.  I couldn't tell you who won, or who was even playing (he probably could, including the score).  All I know is we talked the entire game.  He was trying to "teach" me all about football, although, no real learning occurred, because honestly, I still don't quite understand it, or how people can watch 5 seconds of a game followed by five minutes of setting up for another play......anyway.  We also talked about how he was thinking about getting back together with his ex-girlfriend that he used to date in 8th grade, and I talked him out of it. *Yay, me!*  I didn't think much of the conversation, only that I didn't mind watching a football game sitting next to him.

The next day at school, my best friend grabbed me by the wrist and shuttled me to the bathroom after lunch.  "I need to tell you something."  She was almost jumping-up-and-down giddy."I'm not supposed to tell you, so you have to pretend you don't know, ok?"
I nodded.  "What is it?!?!"
"Okay, but you can't say ANYTHING. k?  Justin.  Benson.  LIKES YOU!!!!"
"Really?"  I was half excited- half nervous.  She blurted out how much he enjoyed talking with me at the party, and how he wanted to ask me out, but didn't know if I liked him too.  I instantly did.  Ninth grade girls are like that.

The next week was TORTURE.  Justin sat next to me in art class, and he would sharpen my pencils and throw the shavings at me, and I would yell at him, pretending to be annoyed.  I just had to giggle and pretend to not know what I knew.

That Friday, we had a basketball game in Delaware, which was about an hour and a half bus ride away.  After the JV game that Justin played in and the girls varsity game, we were sitting on the bleachers watching the boys varsity game.  My best friend sat in between us.  They were mumbling back and forth the first half of the game, concocting a plan.  I stared forward pretending not to try to listen or know what they were plotting.  After half time, my friend and I switched places.

"Um......I wanted to ask you a question..." Justin blurted out, mumbling.
"Okay?" I just looked forward, pretending not to be too interested.
"I was wondering if you would go out with me?"  he asked nervously.
"What did you say?" I looked at him.  I heard him completely.  I just wanted to make him ask again, because I'm mean like that.
"I wanted to ask you if you would go out with me." he said again, louder and a little more confidently.
"Oh.  Well....let me pray about it and tell you on Monday."  I said, wanting him to think I was worth waiting for.

  He leaned back. I leaned forward. My friend leaned back.

"What did she say?" my friend mouthed to him.
"MONDAY!" he mouthed back, brow furrowed, annoyed.

AREN'T I CRUEL!?!?  (not as cruel as he was...just wait...)

After the game, the bleachers cleared, and in the shuffle of people I found him.

"Okay.  I thought about it.  Yes."

It was 8:27 p.m.  New Castle, Delaware.  January 31st, 1997.  Fifteen year old girls remember these kinds of things.

On the ride home, the boys sat in the front of the bus and the girls sat in the back.  I suppose we could have tried to sit together, but honestly, I didn't think about trying to break any rules.  When we got on the bus, my friend announced to everyone as loud as she could, "JUSTIN AND MEGAN ARE GOING OUT!"  I was mortified.  I was happy to be slumped in the back of the bus where no one could ask me any questions.

When the ride was over, someone told me that Justin sat with the boys manager the whole time- a girl, who happened to have a huge crush on him.  She even rested her head on his shoulder!  (breaking the Pilgrim Academy 6 inch rule!)  I'm surprised our relationship lasted a whole night.
 "What was I supposed to do!?!?" he asked me when I found out. "She said she was tired."
"Ummmm....not let her rest her head on your shoulder? and tell her that you had a GIRLFRIEND the last hour who you weren't sitting with?!?!"  I said...forgiving him quickly.  Because honestly, he was just too cute and I really really wanted a boyfriend.

Today marks the 15th anniversary of that day.  I've been dating Justin Benson for HALF of my life.

graduation night....no more 6 inch rule!  ;o)

"Dating for 7 1/2 years before you get married isn't fun, kids.  Don't start dating someone when you're fifteen." ...but really, I'm glad I did.  This latter half of my life was way better than the first!     

Tangible Reminders

The day started out pleasant enough.  Pj's till noon.  Whole wheat chocolate chip peanut butter pancakes drizzled with butter and syrup.  Molly telling me her new sweatshirt was "so swarm and nuggily." A walk to Gramby and Pop Pop's, my littles cozied up in the stroller.  Sadie smiling and smiling and smiling like she always does.  I love little moments like these.  They make the pendulum swing to grateful and seem like it should always be stuck there.

But back in the corners of my mind is that soft, bruised place that I try to avoid.  The voice that wants to tell me, "Remember this time last year?  You had better savor it.  It's the last time you'll be able to say 'this time last year, he was here.'"  I shove those thoughts aside and pray that God would redeem this day for me- to make it count for something other than sadness.

When I finally surrendered to getting ready for the day and went upstairs to get dressed, my thoughts turned to a ring I used to wear that I honestly haven't thought about in months.  It was our ring.  Josiah's and mine.  The ring represented the little string that connected Josiah and me to the truth of God's plan.  The word HOPE.  When we first had Josiah placed in our home, I took these pictures with him wearing it.

And the day he left, I took this one:

  

Every time I would look down at my ring, the verse in my head would speak the truth to my heart and tell me that God has a plan and purpose.  He will not forsake me or Josiah.  He knows what He is doing.

Jeremiah 29:11

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD.  Plans to prosper you, and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."  

I wrote the verse in the Bible we sent along in his going-home box, so the truth of it might penetrate Josiah's heart one day.

*warning, you may not want to make this photo bigger and read this if you're a little teary....it will most like you send you over the edge*

Unfortunately, my fingers swelled during pregnancy and I put the ring away in my jewelry box.

This morning when I remembered the photos and the ring, I was so excited and eager to wear it again.  I told God, "When I look down at that word, I'll remember Your promise, and I'll remember to pray for Josiah to find the plan you want him to."  I slipped it onto my finger, eager for it to find its former home again.  I felt my finger defy my endeavor.  Swollen.

Disgruntled, I shoved my ring back into the jewelry box.  I walked away mumbling to myself, "I shouldn't have put so much salt in the pot roast last night.  I'm not eating any more salt.  Ever."  I stomped out of the room like a surly 2 year old, thinking that maybe God didn't want me to have a tangible reminder of Josiah.  It may do my heart more harm than good.

The rest of the day was quiet and peaceful.  Justin met with our pastor and his wife this afternoon while I stayed home to supervise my happy nappers.

After dinner, Justin told me that he just remembered the pastor's wife wanted him to give something to me.  He went to his car and retrieved a little brown box.

Inside was a necklace. 

                                       

A new necklace with a new word.  heavenward. I almost cried when I saw it.  The little pearl echoed the meaning of my name.  Megan: a pearl.  The engraved word spoke the truth of this verse:   

"Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me.  Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it.  But one thing I do; Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus."  

Philippians 3:12-14

Perhaps my thoughts need to not be on an earthly plan, hoping for a good future for Josiah or for me.  God's picture is much bigger than that.  The word offers a directional course, a turning away from the old, and straining toward what is ahead.  The prize is not holding onto my children forever or hoping that everything will turn out favorably for me or for them.  The prize is Jesus Himself.

Because of what Jesus has done, He has called us heavenward.  The goal is to live with heaven in mind, and inspire others to do the same.  

Suddenly I don't feel the need to worry about eating too much salt.          

This time last year...

This time last year, Josiah was still here.  I was dancing victory dances in my living room for winning the evil bedbug debate.  I was packing his things trying to savor sweet moments through tears and taking pictures of him wrestling with his daddy, who was home with us because God gave us a special snow day so we could be all be together one last time.  

Forgive me for picking at scabs.  The calendar makes it impossible not to.

While his departure happened so quickly on January 28th, 2011, it has taken months and months for him to really be gone.  Little shoes found in closets, pictures on the wall, the stain on the carpet from his juice he spilt that I was so reluctant to clean, his little voice I could still hear after he left.  He lingered here for so long. It is the most difficult thing to balance grief and gratefulness.  The pendulum still continues to swing a year later.

I have Josiah one-year-old birthday picture on my refrigerator.  Just when I thought I was ready to take it down, Molly found it in a drawer and put it back up.  So every time I see it, this is the conversation that ensues:

"I miss him," the empty place in my heart groans though no words come out.

"I know," He speaks back to the empty place.

"You make all things beautiful in Your time."  I say it to remind Him, but as soon as I speak the words in my heart, I think it's Him reminding me.

"I do.  I will.  I AM." He says like light piercing darkness.

It used to hurt like a punch in the gut that would take my breath away.  Most of the time now though, it feels more like hitting my funny bone, like my body saying, "hey, remember you have an elbow?"  I can control when and where I let it happen.  Mostly, I let it happen here.  So thank you, patient, encouraging reader for letting me air my grief.  I know when to knock that place it so I can remember it, feel it, rub it, let God console me, and let Him tell me how He has created all things for His purpose and in His time.          

I was re-reading my friend Jen's post a year after her little girl went to Heaven, and so many things she said resonate with me.  

"A year is no time.  A year is so much time."

Oh it's so true!  How can a year both linger painfully long and still feel like warp speed ahead?!?!  It must be the pendulum effect.  Grief and gratefulness.  One slows time.  One propels it.  With one you are in the arms of the shepherd, the other, you're enjoying the grass.  This year I've learned how sweet both times can be!

The anniversary of Josiah leaving our home and finding another is sad because I remember all those difficult details about the box we packed, saying goodbye, crying, and crying, and crying....but I also feel like it's a stake in the ground.

Like Jen said in her post, "I just want the 28th to come and go so I can look and say, “I made it through a year. I can make it through another one.”


We made it through one year without him- every season, every birthday, every holiday-  we can make it through another and another and another.  


God was good that day Josiah left.  He has been good since.  He will be good still.   

The New Playroom

I always wanted to have a playroom in my house- a deliberate space away from the television where my kids could make creative messes and not feel the need to clean up if they weren't done with a project.  There is a small room in between my guest room and dining room that we used to call the "foyer" (a place to store strollers and other junk that I didn't have a home for.)  I spent a lot of time on pinterest, Amazon, and target.com before I found all of the pieces that I wanted to make it complete....and here it is!

Here's a before shot...

I used some left-over paint from a large mural project and painted it blue.  Here's a shot before you walk into the room.  This is Sadie's favorite spot.  My sister, Amy made that lovely bunting.  I think it says "it is fun in here" before you walk in.

A little corner for the kitchen...  

I painted some trompe l'oeil frames on the wall for Sadie and Molly's masterpieces to hang.   

We're on a snowman kick at the moment.  

Below the "frames" I painted a brown chalkboard wall.  Did you know chalkboard paint comes in different colors?  

This has got to be my favorite part.  These animal cubes are from Target and target.com.  I was contemplating putting pictures of things that go on the cubes on the fronts, but then I didn't want to have to bother with switching toys and getting more toys in the future, etc. 

These little guys have magnetic strips on the inside of their mouths on the bottom of the nylon mesh,  so Molly can "feed" each cube.  The lion only eats cars, the shark eats blocks, the frog eats balls, the hippo cube has all girly accessories, etc.  If the animal doesn't like what it eats, it spits it out. When they're all full, Molly likes to put each one in their homes and kisses them all goodnight before they take their naps.  Its the most fun WE have ever had cleaning up! 

Here's her little dress-up corner where she can be look at herself in the mirror and spin.  

And a little reading spot.  

I found these little dragonflies on Amazon.  I just love how beautiful and whimsical they are!  

And they match our dragonfly hooks.  

I can't wait until Sadie is big enough to make some creative messes of her own along with Molly and me.  :o)  

This is Molly's favorite thing to do in her playroom right now.  And no, it is not her birthday.