scavenging

My youngest daughter is a scavenger. A predator of treasures fallen and ignored by others, she hunts on all fours to lay claim to precious bits and pieces, to make them her own. Stray breakfast remnants, forgotten carpet fuzzies, strands of loose string. No one can eat within a 20-foot-radius - her radar picks up the frequency of the cracker box being opened, the refrigerator door sealing itself shut, the crunch of the pretzel bag being clipped closed. She prowls, scours, seeks... and fiercely protects her findings.

It's humorous - and in a way, oddly encouraging to me. I watch her sift through the "stuff" to find snippets of value and I am heartened. I learn from my 11-month-old daughter that there are treasures to be found and cherished, if only we would look for them.

And so, when I find myself frustrated by another tantrum, wondering what strategy to employ - wondering if it even matters... I remind myself to search. Toss aside the tears and the screaming, remove the selfishness and stubbornness... and find the glimmer of a desire to be pursued. Perhaps my toddler has wrapped this desire in her human nature, and it's been twisted into an ugly fit. But her need to be pursued, to know that someone is loving her with intent and purpose and determination, THAT is from God. In that piece, she reflects His image.

And when I am frustrated and disgusted by my own limitations, beaten down by the fact that yet another day has passed where I cannot count the number of times I have fallen slid run stumbled turned away from His grace... I stop and look. I find a piece of myself, however small, however deeply buried, that reflects an image of God. And I take heart in knowing that even though I can distort His beauty and holiness into something virtually unrecognizable - a glimmer of Him might still be found if I scavenge for it.

Tomorrow, as my daughter zooms around, searching for the lost and buried valuables of our living room carpet and kitchen floor, I will chuckle, and be comforted the she knows. It's there to be found - all you have to do is look.

reflections

Ever catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror - really catch the image - and find yourself surprised at the person looking back at you?

For me, the surprises lately have been things like,

"I wonder how long my hair has been doing that." and

"Where did those crinkly eye-corners come from??" and

"Is that snot or yogurt on my shoulder? Does it matter?"

The outward certainly catches me off-guard at times... but I try to pretend like that's a good thing, because it must mean that I'm not staring at myself in the mirror constantly. Right??

However - I also find myself surprised at the reflections I catch inwardly - the voices in my head and the instinctual responses that pop up. How startling it is to realize that specific actions in others bring out very strong (and not always so positive) gut-level-reactions inside me. Most of the time I am in control of myself, and witnesses would never guess that an interior battle is raging.

And the question comes to mind... which defines my character - the things I think and do not do or say... or the things I choose to put forward? Which is the true reflection of my heart - the unconscious, sinful, human natureness that swims through my mind and heart... or is it the deliberate, thoughtful choice that is made in my words and in my actions?

~~~~~

Pure UPDATE:

1. Meriel is 2 shakes away from walking. She stands up in the middle of the floor and growl-giggles like a happy baby bear. She loves to clap and wave and splash and will eat ANYTHING you let her put in her mouth (literally).

2. Hazel is (and has been since January) fully potty-trained save nap and nighttimes (she still sleeps in a crib). Such a big girl - she cracks me up daily with her Hazel-isms. She loves her little sister and is learning to share her space and toys... it's a daily lesson.

3. The girls could not be more different from each other - one cautious, one explorer. One shy, one outgoing. One picky eater, one vacuum. One needing constant encouragement, one whose drive cannot be stopped. And they still can crack each other up - and sweet baby giggles (Hazel's high pitched, little girl voice, and Meriel's sweet, deep baby cackle) are the best things I hear in my days.

4. I've MISSED this blog - and I hope to visit more often. Days have been busy here, but this place keeps me sane.