Winning

I brought out the jar of pears and a small rubber-tipped spoon.  Navayah bounced up and down in her chair, waved her arms, and joyfully gasped.  She was ready.  I filled the spoon and held it expertly in front of her face.  She swiftly turned her head away.  We repeated this dance five more times.  I got up to help her brother.  Nayah took the spoon from the jar, and brought it up to her face.

She is nine-and-a-half months old.  Her fine motor skills are not developed.  I gently guided the spoon towards her mouth and twisted it so it was not upside-down.  She dropped the spoon, swiveled her head, and straightened her little body in protest.  She would not be eating anything coming from a spoon that I was touching.  I tried to let her feed herself four more times.  She intook little food; it is hard to when the spoon is perpetually sideways or upside-down and she rams it into her cheek first.  And will not let me help her.

This was war. I maturely stepped up my tactics.  I grabbed her face, pinched her cheeks together to open her mouth, and shoved a spoonful in.  After four “bites,” she had mastered the art of clamping her jaws together while her cheeks were pinched.  We were both in this war with all of our pride-filled hearts.  Between battles, we intensely glared at each other.  I pulled Nayah’s jaw down and shoved more spoonfuls in.  She retaliated by spitting out and smearing.  She whined, open-mouthed.  I shoved another spoonful in.  We repeated this, with me winning.  She is a quick-study.  Again, four bites later, she would whine, then whip her head around so I could not stuff food into the opening her complaint had provided.  It became a race.

I won.

I am bigger and have had more years to perfect my stubbornness.  But Nayah is surprisingly advanced for her age.

When I asked God for a more independent child, what I really meant was I wanted a child who was less emotionally needy.  Not this.  Nine months and only three-and-a-half teeth is a bit early for a child to be exclusively feeding herself solids.  And I did not really mean it when I said I wanted a child who was a little more like me.

Taking up a collection…

…if Nate can do it, so can I!  Yesterday I found a petite baby grand piano for sale on Craig’s List, about 35 miles from where we live.  It’s listed at $1000 obo.  Hmmm…who needs a dining room?  And a piano would look absolutely beautiful in our newly painted chianti red library!  It would be the best room in the house!!!

So, if anyone is planning to inherit a bunch of money in the next week and needs to get rid of it for tax purposes, a baby grand piano would be a great investment for the musical education of at least two children, as well as for the emotional, spiritual, mental, and physical state of their mother.

Faith Like a Child

Last night Hannah was standing on a folding chair next to the table, and started to jump down to get something. The chair slipped as she jumped, and she lost her balance, slamming her knees on the floor. The pain must have been severe, as she began crying immediately (usually she makes sure she has an audience before crying).

Hannah has a history of knee “problems”. Because of the way she sits and the number of falls her knees absorb, she will occasionally complain, out of the blue, that her knees hurt. This is hereditary. When this is the case, we make sure to have Dr. Clary (our chiropractor) take a look at her knees the next time we visit, and invariably Hannah will be happier and walking much straighter after the visit.

Mommy quickly picked Hannah up off the floor while Daddy washed his hands. Mommy then handed over her little girl, who continued to weep that her knee hurt. As we made our way to the couch where Daddy could cuddle-comfort his princess, Mommy asked if we should take her to Dr. Clary’s office so he could fix her knees.

“No. Jesus will heal it,” said the small wavering voice between sniffles.

“Should we pray to Jesus to make it feel better?” Daddy asked. Hannah nodded, whispering “Will you help me?”

“Dear Jesus” (“Dear Jesus”). “My knee hurts”…. “I know you are the Great Healer”…. “Will you please make my knee feel better?”…. “Thank you Jesus for hearing my prayer”…. “Amen”.

Without another word, Hannah jumped off of Daddy’s lap and ran to the kitchen to continue playing with her brother. I have no doubt that there was intense, significant pain when Hannah fell. But whether or not the nerves connecting Hannah’s knee to her brain were still sending the message of pain, was irrelevant. Hannah’s Jesus had promised to hear her prayer and heal her, and He had done so – she was convinced of it.

In his devotional My Utmost for His Highest, Oswald Chambers writes often about how the common-sense life is counter to the Christ-Centered life (August 9, for example). Would that we had the faith of Hannah, that whenever we bring our requests to Christ, we would have the confidence that He has already heard and answered our prayers before they are out of our mouth – regardless of the “reality” we see or feel around us.

–Nathan Addink