Austin's first words

Austie has been talking quite a bit lately, he's no "Ty," but he's doing well. You can tell he is interested in being able to tell us what he wants.

His first word was: "more!" and he used it often, when eating, when drinking, when not eating or drinking. Sometimes he would go to the fridge and point to it and say, "More!" I figured out what he wanted.

Since then he has added:

Mama
Ty
Baby
out (outside)
Bye
Hi
Kiki (Aunt Chrissy)
Gigi
Ball
Dada
Dack (Jack)
Peese (please)

A couple days ago, Austin said his first sentence!

He was out near the end of the driveway, looking longingly at the forbidden road. I walked toward him giving him a look of warning, a "Don't you even think about going into the street" look. That is one of the biggest offenses at our house, because I want the boys to be able to be trusted in the front yard. So we really harp on street safety.

Austin looks up at me, points behind him to the street and says: "No road."

Good job Austin! He gets it. He knows he'll "get it", if he does go into the road.

...apparently being consistent works.

oh, right, I forgot.

It was hard to get up this morning


again.


Twenty-one days to a habit? Maybe, but not when spiritual warfare is involved.


Back in the saddle for four weeks after three months of being too sick and tired to attempt an early rise.


It's still hard.


Day after day of getting up, making coffee and attempting to meet with the Father.


I sit there. In the dark. Alone. Ready to commune. Wanting to feel, to worship, to be spoken to

but.


It's just another quiet night.


I decide to speak, thanking him for his blessings, asking for help, telling him what my friends need from Him.


My thoughts are quickly interrupted by, well, anything...


everything.


Embarrassed I try to return my focus to worshiping my Lord.


I try.


All is quiet.


I get the feeling that I'm not in the throne room. I feel I'm still outside the door, standing there, hands in my pockets, hoping He comes out and scoops me up. But not feeling worthy to knock.


I mean, I know I'm not worthy. There's no debate there. I'm the one who stepped out, over three months ago I told him. "I'm pregnant now, see ya in three months God."


The sickness is over. I'm back.


But my mind can't get over the fact that I stepped out.


What right do I have to go back and say, "I've decided I'm ready to go back to being more than friends." Like the God of the universe is a dog I've kept pinned up all day and now I'm coming back to tell him "Come on boy, I need some affection from you now. Come show me that 'love you forever' kind of love. It's convenient for ME now."


You don't do that! What nerve of me to treat God like a loyal animal.


So I've been sitting here, for four weeks, reading his Word, doing my Bible study, praying, loitering...

outside His door.

Recently I've realized what my deal is. Why I can't just open the door and walk in. Who says I have to knock anyway?

Grace --God's unconditional love and favor toward us

I've forgotten about it.


How could I forget? (I'll blame it on the pregnancy brain.)


It's foundational to what I believe about God:


God is perfect. I am far far from it.
He knows it. He loves me anyway.


My disobedience has made it impossible for me to be near Him.
He knows it. He loves me anyway.

He made a way. His son took my problems, my issues, my selfishness and paid the penalty for it. Because of my acceptance of this gift and my pledge to follow Him, I'm now clean. I'm now perfect in the sight of God.


That's what Grace is.

God knowing how self-centered and ugly my heart is, and He loves me anyway.


I think it's my problem to fix. It's not. Cause I can't fix it.

Holy Trinity, continue to teach me that Christ's righteousness
satisfies justice and evidences thy love; help me to make use of it by faith as
the ground of my peace and of thy favour and acceptance, so that I may live
always near the cross. --M. Vincent

Now if I can just get that through my thick head.