Thursday, May 13, 2010


Life is filled with different types of moments. Moments of seemingly small significance. Recognizing that David's bubble maker that he is creating with his dad's drill is amazing, explaining to Bethany why she can't be a morning kindergartner like her friend, hearing Faith say that she loves me and that I'm her special gift, and waking up Caleb and talking about what he was like when he was little. A phone call with the Elder, and hearing his heartbeat for the body at FCC. Checking emails, browsing on facebook while drinking my morning coffee, crying at the video from Selah and being reminded how much my Jesus loves me. The breakfast dishes are once again calling my name, I need to change sheets, vacuum the floors, make a meatloaf and somewhere in my day, read my Bible and exercise and tackle that organizing project that I started 3 weeks ago. The one I couldn't finish when difficult moments arrived and derailed me from the seemingly mundane chores on Oakgreen Circle.

Then there are those "other" moments. The ones that your life stops and your world is defined by something different. The moment that you hear a diagnosis. The moment at the cemetery when the fifty verses of Amazing Grace is finally finished and you wonder to what? There are beautiful moments as well, getting engaged, walking down the isle of my dad's arm, feeling my baby kick for the first time and then the joy of meeting that little one face to face.

And I think to myself...(can you hear the song.."What a Wonderful World")....what do all these moments add up to? I am constantly struggling to make ordinary moments count, to be faithful even in the tough moments of parenting, to not let self-pity or despair overtake me. Discouragement seeps into those ordinary moments with a whisper of discontent and if I don't pay attention to it, it gives way to something bigger and uglier and a posture that is not honoring to my King.

I'm left with the choice to believe that all of the ordinary moments of all of our days add up to something bigger. I often think that it's in the ordinary moments that great things happen. I wonder how many things I miss because I'm not paying attention or I'm too tired to see? I'm also convinced that the God who created this world, loves me enough to care about every little moment of every waking hour. That fact alone keeps me going and gives me what I need for the next several moments.

Now..about those breakfast dishes.

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Abba Father...thank you.

This morning was a tough one at the Zimm's for many reasons. For the most part, though, it was a tired mama trying to deal with two special needs girls. If one wasn't fussing, the other one was. It can be so constant. I found myself on the familiar thinking path of, "I can't do this, this is too hard." When those thoughts start coming down the track of my thinking patterns, I know that I have more work to do. I need to replace those thoughts with, "God, help me. Thank you for these girls and all the challenges. Help me to find joy in the battle." What usually happens is, I just get out the first three words. Today, it didn't even get that far. I kicked a few things around, sputtered a few words that an elder's wife shouldn't say and entertained the negative thinking tracks. I hadn't even gotten to the help part when God surprised me.

I needed to call Bethany's classroom teacher about something and she surprised me with a positive story about our girl. Yesterday, they went to their first pep fest. The teacher sat at the edge right by the door, with Bethany, unsure of how she would react to the big kids and the noise. Our girl, the one who couldn't even walk on wood floors, stayed. She not only stayed, she cheered when someone made a basket, she stomped her feet along with the rest of the kids as they chanted, and she not only stayed, she laughed and smiled and participated just like everyone else.

This might seem like an insignificant feat, but for our girl with her sensory issues, this was no small miracle. And then the teacher went on to say how pleased she has been with Bethany all year. She has interacted with 27 other kids in a classroom and learned the routine and she's happy every day. She walks into the classroom with a smile on her face. Even on the days that she's left screaming and crying from home.

Why write all this down? To remind myself that even when my first reaction isn't a good one and I don't cry out to God for help, He's still there. He reaches out and gently reminds me of how much he loves me, how much he loves Bethany, and reminds me that He's here. She's making progress.'s hard and yes, I have to fight the stinking thinking patterns every day. But even in the days that I don't fight well, He's still working and loving all of us. Amazing.