To My Four Year Old Girl

Eva Margaret, you turned four yesterday. We celebrated your birthday last weekend and had record high temperatures - wonder if we'll look back at pictures of you barefoot in the sun, blowing bubbles and in the sandbox, and always remember that this was the year you turned four? We've always had snow and ice at the end of March...

I've always loved watching you grow older, and resisted accepting what your age means at the same time. You are definitely more school-age girl than exploring toddler, more social butterfly than content to watch the action from the side. You've grown so much this past year, your little body, mind and soul. You're proud of buttoning up your 5 and 6T shirts on your own; your long arms, legs and torso continually make people guess you are much older then you are. You're getting into skirts that twirl, glittery nail polish and lip gloss, and like wearing my shoes, purses, and coats around the house. You don't like getting your hair brushed or having help brushing your teeth; a very common phrase around the house these days is, "I can do it myself." And in so many ways, you can. Your abilities grow like leaps and bounds, sprouting up and blossoming before our eyes.

Your little mind is catching everything lately, wondrous and clever and insanely logical for a barely four year old! You spelled m-o-m the other night in bed, as part of your drifting off to sleep, powering down your mind, routine. You asked how to spell "dad" and sounded it out on your own, repeating it twice before asking me the next question - was God sad when Jesus died? You're innately spiritual, connecting the dots between relationship and love and suffering and God in so many ways, and you want to know "why," "how," and "where" God is. I love seeing your mind grasp new information, like what animals are born by eggs and which grow in the momma's tummy - or what ingredients you remember go into pancakes or what directions we take to arrive at our destination. You have an uncanny memory and sense of place.

But even more then your leaps in knowledge, I love seeing your heart and soul grow. I see you watch friends who are kind or selfish and then wrestle with what to do; I hear you ask why some people are mean or why the robbers who died by Jesus didn't raise from the dead again. I hear you suggest that you could give some of your quarters to the hungry woman we met on the street, or to help at church. I know your struggle with feeling left out or hurt in some social situations and that sometimes you get so angry and defensive that you just shut down for the day. I see you smile and make up with friends too, accepting an apology or getting over your own guilt at a mistake. I wonder about how we are doing at stewarding this emotional capacity of yours, this intense empathy and well of emotion you carry around.

You come and tell us when you've done something wrong; sometimes its with the promise, "it's not that bad mom, it will be okay" - you are a natural negotiator. Other times you run and hide, or bury your face in my shoulder, feeling bad or nervous about what you've done. This week after quiet time you matter-of-factly came to tell me that you had cut your doll's hair - which is when I saw you had also cut your own bangs. You did a remarkable job, actually, let me trim the edges to even it out, and were happy with your hair being out of your face. You look even older now, the new hair darker brown and framing your cheeky face, your big earnest eyes sharing space with your long and layered hair now. You're such a beautiful girl, inside and out, and your expressiveness, bubbling joy, and flapping arms make you all the more lovely to look at.                      

A few weeks ago you made me "cards" of folded up paper and "read" the insides to me. My favorite one said, according to you, "Thanks for loving me mom, for giving me treats sometimes and not other times, and thanks that you and dad call me love bug." You wanted a birthday theme of butterflies and bugs, which I thought was perfectly girly and adventurous all in one, and you loved having bugs and raspberries on your chocolate birthday cake. We found an orange shirt at the thrift store that says "love bug" on it and its your current favorite. You tell me that you love me to the moon and back, all the way to Jesus holding the world in His hands and back, and to Canada and to the bottom of the ocean where the squid live really deep. How did you become so loving, so smart, and so funny so quickly?  

You teach me about being human each day, Eva M. You remind me to delight and see the world with wonder, to hug and hold and snuggle, to answer thoughtfully and to prepare things ahead of time, to have patience and to not raise my voice and to live out the words in my actions that I am trying to teach you. You remember everything we do or say, you mirror us at our best and sometimes worst, and you love your friends, your teachers, your godparents, your family - you love with deep and easy abandon. You try to tell jokes, try to add up things logically, and always want to see more friends and more people at the end of each day. You dance and sing by yourself and with us, turning the kitchen and your bedroom into miraculous performances, making up stories and relationship and drama each day. You like driving fast, having your window down in the car, and listening to your favorite "car music." You're in love with gardening, most animals, learning about how your body works, legos, trains, dressing your dolls, puzzles, crafts, and biking. You will jump off any surface possible, run laps and race to every new activity, and refuse to enter a dark room by yourself (I get it.) You also ask when we are coming back if dad or I leave home, and ask to be reassured sometimes that we will be there again the next morning.

Tonight at bedtime, you went through your normal rituals, "Good night mom, love you, sleep tight." Then you added, "Mom, I will never leave you, ok? See you in the morning."

Sometimes I love you so much that I ache little girl. I am so grateful and feel lucky that I get to be your mom; it's the best job in the world. I can't wait to see what the next year brings for your developing and beautiful little life. Happy fourth birthday my little love bug.    

Quoteables

"Baby you're a FIIIIIRE-Work, come on show them WHAAAAT you're worth...."  - Eva in the morning, from her bed, every morning when she wakes up


"What do you want to do when you grow up?" - Mom
"I want to be a ballet teacher, a mermaid, and a pastor!" - Eva

Everyday Memories....

I've noticed that it's sometimes hard for me to remember the little, everyday things that are full of joy and profound meaning - unless I write them down! We've had a gratitude-full and wonder-filled holiday season, starting with seeing family in MI for T-day, and now recently finishing with seeing all kinds of friends and fam around the city and then throughout MN for Xmas and New Yrs. I feel full of bright memories and meaningful moments; a few that I want to be sure to remember include:

- watching Eva tap dance her little heart out with her new shoes, fluffy skirt, (loud) recorder and (hipster) skull cap with the VerHage fam
- opening up our "Petersen Baby May 2012" cookie at Opart Thai
- Eva reading her fave books to herself, and to us, this season (Sergio, Party in Kalamazoo, B-Bears, The Skin You Live In, various Bible stories, etc.)
- Eva playing by the tree like I always did, just to stay close to it
- everyday - but such deeply good - friend time, like making cookies with Danielsons, caroling with Edstroms/crew, dinner with Marxs, soup with Nordlunds, museum with Leah, backyard fire with Bassetts, coffee with Al, late night chats with JR, etc.
- visits to Field and Shedd and Children's Museum in Mpls with Eva, and watching her run to each section with open-hearted joy
- having Bonnie in town for fun and on the run fried rice!
- lunch with mom and talking with dad in Rochester
- best peanut-butter choc blossom cookie batch - ever - a la Mom!
- seeing animated lights with J and K in Mpls
- New Yrs party fun with mustaches, karaoke, and good friends
- SS Advent series with various music, space to listen, and hearing tender/wise thoughts from others
- Eva getting into the season by dressing up as Santa Lucia, playing her first part in a play as a little angel in the church Christmas story, and attending Santa Lucia at the Swedish museum - insisting that we walk with the mile-long parade of candles and lights together!
- watching Eva play fox and goose through snow trails with Gramps, and get out old Barbies and use homemade playdough with Grammy  
- Little Town of Bethlehem at NPCC = unreal!
- Eva's preschool "concert" at her "PBS school" under the arched stained glass windows and twinkling Christmas lights
- seeing Eva delight in carefully crafting paintings, picture frames, sticker pages, etc. as gifts for others; and picking out a sweater that she loved to give to her dad  
- long lunch with Molly and Eric, enjoying so much in common and so much to learn from each other
- playing with Joey (and Jeanne and Paul!), in their sunny, warm and beautiful home
- brunch with Satte and playing in the freezing cold car with Eva ("Now Sarah, you and mom are the girls and I will be the mom that drives us to the museum exhibit," says my three year old!)
- getting jeans that fit and discovering body sugar scrub for dry skin!
- Christmas Day night darts with Bo and Megs, Josh ("Have I seen you since Thailand?"), and having a Bruce sighting :)
- date night with Peter at Zzest, great long car drive conversations, and laughing a lot
- Blue Nativity night, with "The baby Jesus was just light, mom!" and "Why didn't the camel try to eat me?"
- Eva playing baby Jesus with me as Mary and Peter as the manger
- night out for just our family of three, shopping at Red Balloon, getting hot cider at Cafe Latte, and skipping up the sidewalks while singing in the frosty night air
- reading the Christmas story over and over and over to an eager listener/questioner at her bedtime
- drives and chats in the minivan while on the way to Owatonna, the airport, and around town with my fave Seattle family members
- walking around my home town and seeing the old/familiar and the new/surprising with equal delight
- Eva asking, "Mom, does God love monsters too?" 
- driving while watching E dance to the music in the back seat, singing her heart out, along with "Do You Hear What I Hear?" - and then knowing she will always crescendo to a loud finish, with her arms flung wide open, "He will bring, us, goodness, and LIIIIIIIIIIGHT!!!"

Three-Year Old Theology: Re-Mastering Basics

Eva continues to have some serious interest in talking through Bible stories and theological concepts with me, much to my delight. :) Her recent questions involve understanding what Christmas is all about, and why Jesus was born a baby and then later on died, and where Jesus went when he went back into heaven after His resurrection. I can never tell exactly how much she is understanding, but at random times she will ask me a specific question about a detail that surprises me with what she must be digesting from our conversations. It is fascinating to watch her little mind connect the dots, and I realize that because of her I am being pushed to both simplify and deepen my own theology when explaining these eternal concepts to her.

I've recently decided that three-year old theology just might be a favorite topic of mine! It makes enough sense at this age to include details, names, places, and to string together the main pieces of the OT narratives with the NT life of Jesus into one big story that talks about God. But it still has to stay simple, be woven together, and stay focused on the main point. And I keep being amazed that Eva basically asks all of the same questions about faith and God that most adults do, just without any pretense, baggage or cleaned-up words. She just wonders aloud about the usual suspects when it comes to faith - like why Jesus died, why she can't see Him now, why kings in the OT were bad, why God got mad at people in that city, how God made oceans, why there are more church then just hers, what pastors do, and how Jesus is God and also was a baby. It's basically her mind trying to wrap around the key concepts of trust, prayer, faith, the trinity, theodicy, sin, the church, death and the resurrection. Which we as adults are all still trying to wrap our minds around most days, I think.

But much deeper than having fun telling her the stories, and more important than smiling when she wants to pretend she is baby Moses in the river, I am keenly aware that telling her about Jesus needs to be backed up with actions and experience. Maybe it is the Pietist in me, but I already know that Eva doesn't need to memorize the Sunday School answers or recite back names and dates. She doesn't even need to just be able to explain how Jesus died and rose again at Easter, key as that knowledge is. I want her to be amazed by it all, to feel the potency of a God who was born under a bright star as a baby and loves her, HER. I want her to know that she can talk to God any time, ask questions about her faith, and to see connections between her everyday world and the stories about faith. I want her to feel loved and comfortable in church, knowing she is welcome and treasured and that God meets her there. I want her to feel safe and valued by this big strong God, and also recognize the mystery and majesty of this one true and Great King. I want her to see her dad and me pray, ask for forgiveness, handle relationships with patience and grace, work through
discipline and relationships and life with the joy of the Lord and the strength that the Bible promises.

And here is where I am challenged and so encouraged by three-year old theology. I know that this theology needs to be consistent, focused on the main things, and not just a head game. I know that she is watching and soaking up life every minute, and that I don't always actually practice a relationship with God or to the world like I tell her about. And in a unique way, I am more driven to re-master the basics of my faith because of this new young audience member, more driven than I have ever been to write a brilliant paper or to appear to have leadership and maturity for my professional or personal life. This is my daughter's story of faith that is being written. Thankfully it is not all up to me to be perfect, to know it all, or even to shape her faith. It is up to me to remember these basics, to have help along the way from others, to model and practice the ups and downs of the life of faith and let her learn from and with me, and to try to access that childlike faith and joy that I see in her eyes when we read the stories. What a gift that the same God that I've known for thirty years is reminding me, through this sweet little girl and her wide-eyed interest, that it is really still about the same stuff it has always been. I can rest and also give over much of the other stuff, in my own faith and in my mothering, I have realized. Unless its the basic practices and connection to the story of Jesus that I want to make sure Eva sees acted out and explained, unless its really the big stuff, the most basic stuff really, I can let go of the clutter.  


Peter and I watched the enigmatic movie, "Tree of Life," tonight. It is an unusual movie in many ways, and the pacing and plot are very, well, un-plot like and different than a usual Hollywood production. But its a deeply theological story that opens with a quote from Job ("Where were you when I created the heavens and the earth?"), and that threads whispers from characters asking questions of God throughout the movie. It artistically opens up categories like the meaning of life, suffering, control, faith, goodness, beauty, nature, grace, love, family, brotherhood, marriage, and childhood in very unique ways. I enjoyed a lot of it, and it got me thinking; Tree of Life, in its own way, is trying to answer these same, three-rear old theological realities that are so hard to grasp. Why does God seem to let bad things happen? Are we in control of our lives, or is God? Are we rewarded for being fair, just, and hard-working, or is life capricious? Do goodness and love and grace really win out in the end? Why do we do what we don't want to do? Are we alone, does God listen to us for real - and how do we know? How do we get back to the innocence of childhood? How do our families and their implied patterns and explicit tensions shape our lives? How do we recover from grief, pain and loss?

At one point in the movie near the end, a central child character realizes that the anger and frustration that he's been struggling with has lifted. He apologizes to his brother who he hurt, he comforts another sibling, makes overtures toward his stern father, and somehow the cloud is lifted. The voice-over at this point is poignant; his childlike voice says, "I didn't know how to name You then. But I see it was You. Always. You were calling me."

I could have said that exact same thing about my understanding of God at five years old, and at fifteen, and again when I was twenty-five. And next year, when I turn thirty-five, I can still testify that I continue to circle through this reality of not always recognizing where God is, and wondering if I am heard, if I am seen, if I am enough - and then it comes to me. I find the words, it becomes clear - the truth of God always being with me, and always calling me, becomes real and experienced in my own story once again.