Prosperity

Mark Dever captured something succinctly and clearly that I want Elisabeth to understand as she grows up:

"Prosperity isn't always wrong, but prosperity is always dangerous."
(Preaching the Cross p30)

Just Like Mama

One of Elisabeth's friends who lives in Amish country gave us Just Like Mama to help her understand a little bit about Amish life and culture. It was a fantastic gift from a country kid to a city kid.

The book gives a glimpse into the daily life of the Amish, and a view of the heart from which that life flows. The book is well illustrated and well written to draw readers into a little girl's desire to be like her Mama.

The book also provoked me to think about how good literature leads us to question, and to think. Just Like Mama closes with the mother telling her daughter,

"I have a wonderful-good idea, dear one. Let's be more like the Lord Jesus . . . together."

The question ran through my mind, "How does this lead a reader to the gospel?" I'm not trying to criticize this author in particular, but to get a better sense in my own understanding of how good literature points us, even subtly, to the gospel.

I think that this author tries to show the good fruit that Mama bears: her patience, gentleness, kindness - everything that makes her daughter want to be "just like Mama." And at the end, she points her girl in the right direction: to Jesus. But I wonder if some readers might see becoming a certain sort of person - even like Jesus - as the heart of Christianity, and of the good news. I wonder if readers like that might be drawn to imitate Jesus without knowing Him, or being reconciled to God through Him.

What Just Like Mama helped me to see is that I can't filter for perfect literature. But with good literature (and bad) it is my responsibility to ask the right questions to help Elisabeth see that the center of the good news is God reconciling rebels to Himself through His Son.

First day of school

Yesterday was Elisabeth's first day of preschool! Since we lost the backpack (oops!), we decided to do the mandatory 'first day of school picture' in the gardens instead of at school.

[Real photographers, please forgive me for shooting into the sun on this one. It was the only sitting shot that I caught her with a genuine smile!]

Update: The backpack is found! I feel like the woman in the parable of the lost coin!

Can you read me a story?

Elisabeth just picked up a book and asked me:

Dad, can you read me this story: The Wolf and the Big Bad Children?

I wouldn't be surprised if the book exists, but we don't have it.

Reading John Owen at bedtime

In the past several months, I have found reading John Owen at bedtime to be tremendously rewarding. You may be thinking that Owen is the cure for insomnia, as he is widely charged with being a challenging writer, but I have found him eminently helpful in humbling me, setting my eyes on Christ, and teaching me to be a better parent. In fact, his treatment of our condition and Christ's sufficiency is so rich that I have wondered that some scholar hasn't applied his insights to parenting - for the benefit of all.

Here are a couple of recent bedtime nuggets:

This is the trial and touchstone of gospel light: If it keeps the heart sensible of sin, humble, lowly, and broken on that account - if it teaches us to water free pardon with tears, to detest forgiven sin, to watch diligently for the ruin which we are yet assured shall never ruin us - it is divine, from above, of the Spirit of grace. If it secretly and insensibly makes men loose and slight in their thoughts about sin, it is adulterate, selfish, false (Overcoming Sin and Temptation pp301-302)

Labor, therefore, to fill your hearts with the cross of Christ. . . . Fill your affections with the cross of Christ, that there may be no room for sin (ibid. p332)

Owen is, in my opinion, one of the wisest counselors of the soul who has put pen to paper. I am deeply thankful for his cutting words, and penetrating insight.

A Tree is Nice . . . but the book is not

I picked up A Tree is Nice at the library because it had a Caldecott Medal. Having read it several times, I fail to see what literary merit the judges saw in the book. The author picked a great theme: accessible to children and important for society. Yet I was completely unimpressed with the literary quality of the book. The language is simple, but not poetic - to the point of being very repetitive. There are no clever twists of plot, because there isn't a plot.

So, for those who haven't read it: Don't worry; you haven't missed anything. For those who have: Can you help me see why it got a Caldecott?

Fun at the beach

Look at those teeth!

Elisabeth was a bit dismayed at the shark's teeth.

Perseverance

Two nights ago Elisabeth didn't want to finish her dinner. She had four bites remaining of scrambled eggs with peppers, and she was convinced that she wouldn't eat them. So when Rebecca and I were finished eating, we cleared the table and went to the kitchen to do the dishes while Elisabeth remained at the table to finish her dinner. Initially there were plaintive calls:

"I don't want to eat! I'm not going to finish!"

And then there was silence, from which I concluded that she'd probably realized that she'd better just finish up so that she could be excused from the table. That lasted for about 20 minutes, but all of her eggs remained on her plate.

Seeing that her cries and silence hadn't worked, Elisabeth tried getting out of her seat to plead with us to see things her way. It didn't work as she had planned: she was put back in her seat to finish her meal. Meanwhile we continued on with the rest of our evening routine, packing lunches for the morning, tidying up, and even sitting down to read.

I think the fact that life went on while she was supposed to be finishing her dinner made it even harder for Elisabeth, and after about an hour, she was reduced to tears. (I'll give her the benefit of the doubt. I don't think it was all drama she was putting on; I think some of it was real over-tiredness.) Finally, after over two hours of trying every evasion mechanism she knew, Elisabeth changed her mind. I had insisted not only that she eat the rest of her dinner, but that she do it on her own strength, as I don't believe that a 3 year old needs to be fed like a baby when she is disinclined to eat. Perhaps because her energy was spent, or perhaps because the eggs really were good, she fed herself the last four bites, and was at last excused from the table!

I think that I learned a couple of lessons from the encounter:

1. Perseverance. The price of not persevering is compromising my word.
2. Responsibility. This was not about food. (Four bites of egg isn't going to make or break my child.) It was about finishing a job that she had been given: in this case, eating delicious food. Consequently, feeding her (so she didn't have to do it) would not have accomplished the aim.
3. Reconciliation. It was stunning to me how Elisabeth's demeanor changed when she finished her food. For two hours she had been sulking, whining and otherwise trying to get out of eating her food. Yet when she finished, she intuitively knew that she was restored to the family. In her bedtime routine, there wasn't even a hint that she had spent the past two hours resisting obedience.

I hope that the next encounter doesn't take two hours - but even if it takes six, I'm convinced that every minute invested now pays great dividends down the road.

Climbing

Pretty in Pink

What does "pray" mean?

Today we had a picnic with one of Elisabeth's friends. I asked her if she wanted to pray before we ate, or if she wanted me to pray. Her little friend turned and asked me,

"What does pray mean?"

His question was a powerful reminder to me that our lives provoke questions, and I need to be prepared to answer those really good and sincere questions in a way a 3 year old can understand - and even more importantly to be able to turn focus from a religious activity that people of many faiths do to the good news of Christ.

Drawing stick figures

Elisabeth is just beginning to learn to draw stick figures. After drawing the hair on this one, she announced,

"It's a man!"

Dancing in the water

Not enough hours in the day

Elisabeth and I have been sick this week, and so have had a lot more time at home to read and enjoy books together. Yet, despite being home, it seems that I still can't find time to write anything. So when time appears, I have some fun pictures of Elisabeth, and reviews of some of the fun books I'd recommend from our time at home.

In the words of a city kid

This week we read a book (which I'll review soon) about an Amish family, that includes a section where the protagonist, a young girl, is learning to milk a cow. Elisabeth described her perception of that section of the book in these words:

"She squeezed the cow underneath, and the pee pee came out."

I explained to her that the girl was milking the cow, and that it was milk coming out, to which Elisabeth replied,

"Then they must have to clean it!"

I guess that's what it means to pasteurize and homogenize.

One way to get your hair wet

Sitting tall

Tomorrow

This week Elisabeth asked me,

"Is today tomorrow, or is it the next day?"

I'm sure that it was in reference to something of which I had said on the previous day, "We will do it tomorrow," but it made me smile how challenging that concept can be to express.

Shiver (noun)

So "burring" is a verb that means to shiver (in Elisabeth's vocabulary). However she uses "shiver" as a noun. Any guesses on what a 3 year old would call a "shiver"?