My heart is more full now.

Today I was helping Finn put stickers on a piece of construction paper, and he did this thing--several times--that I am still marveling at.

A week or so ago we discovered that while Finn doesn't have much of an attention span for coloring yet, he really enjoys stickers.  So we bought a book of stickers and for the past few days, we've been peeling stickers out of that book and handing them to him (he can't get them off himself) so that he can stick them onto a piece of paper.

Today, while doing this with Finn, it occurred to me to let Finn choose which sticker he'd like next.  It took a minute for him to catch on to the idea, but then he discovered that he loved it.  And then he started doing this thing.  Every time he had successfully placed a sticker on the paper, he turned back to the sticker book and broke into this intense grin, making two tight fists with his hands in front of him, and shaking in glee for just a moment, before choosing a sticker.  It was sheer delight that I saw on his face every time he realized that he could once again choose any sticker he wanted, and I would give it to him.

After a while he realized that he could turn the pages of the sticker book, and find a different page that suited him better.  Our sticker activity transformed into a leisurely stroll through the pages of the sticker book.

So I was thinking tonight, about the joy Finn felt in that moment over the freedom to choose and receive.  I so often have that myself.  But so often I move past the moment without stopping to grin, make fists, and shake in delight.  So here's to savoring the moments.  And here are a few of the delightful moments I've shared with Finn lately!

Finn's first time hiking with us (not in a carrier).

He's REALLY  been enjoying his "YeYe Bible" that reads aloud Bible stories to him in his Ye Ye's voice.

Choosing a sticker!

Chocolate pudding dessert.  Yum!

Finn has LOVED this car the past few days since Aunt Dora brought it by for our yard sale.  We'll all be sad to see it go.  It'll be one of the first thing Finn gives up on his missionary kid journey.  

Making a call on his phone (an old flip phone of mine) in his favorite chair.

Playing guitar on his stage.  Just like Daddy.

You know, all of these moments and more have been a part of my life recently, but until I stop and think back on them, and see them like this in pictures, I didn't really appreciate them.  My heart is more full now, than when I began typing this blog post.

- Laura

What I Might have in Common with the Damsels of Medieval History.

Last night I watched the new release, Far From the Madding Crowd on DVD, and this morning as I went for a brisk walk around the neighborhood with Finn in the jogger, I kept thinking about it.  I really, really liked it, and I asked myself why.  It’s a definite chick flick (full disclosure there), and a appreciated that there were no premarital or extramarital affairs (a rare find in chick flicks these days), but it wasn’t a straight up fairy tale either.  In fact the heroine makes some pretty lousy decisions along the way.  She’s not all bad.  She does strive to be a good steward that which God brings her way in life (though God is not mentioned in the film), but when it comes to romance, she tends to defer too much to her emotions and passion.  This tendency is all too realistic today and is a common side effect in our society of the exaltation of romance and passion to the exclusion of wisdom.  

So I asked myself this morning, “why am I so taken with this film?”  I’m usually one of those people who prefers movies in which the hero or heroine is primarily virtuous, and so I can root for them, so to speak, in every respect (fanciful, I know).  But this movie was not like that.  The answer I came to, was twofold.  The first part being that which many will think is obvious—that the movie reflects the fallenness that exists in real life.  But the second part is that while the heroine is flawed, her enduring suitor is not - and this too reflects real life.  Real life in Christ, that is.  

OK, at this point if you think you might want to see the movie, you might not want to read further.  I won’t give away a lot of details, but if you’re one of those people that hates to know much of anything about how a film turns out before you see it, then you better stop reading now.

I warned you.  Now here’s what I REALLY loved about this movie. 

Early in the movie, Bathsheba (yes, a name you Bible scholars have heard before) receives her first proposal of marriage from the kind, hard working farmer next door, Gabriel, and while she doesn’t flat out refuse him at the start, she doesn’t feel for him what she wants to feel from a suitor.  She’s not weak in the knees over this man, and so though she has great respect and fondness for him, she determines that she has no need of a husband at the moment and will hold out for a more compelling offer.

Gabriel accepts this response with great dignity, but finds himself inclined to stick around and look out for her, so to speak.  He doesn’t pester her or make any further attempts at winning her over, but he quietly uses his skill in farming to help her succeed in life.  Over the course of time he watches her fall in “love” with a dashing young heart breaker, and still he sticks around.  

Throughout the movie there are various highs and lows for Bathsheba, and ironically she finds herself coming back to Gabriel for advice over and over again not only for farming matters but matters of the heart as well.  She slowly finds herself becoming more and more dependent on his help and moral support, and at last (no big surprise, really), comes to realize what a fool she has been all along to take him for granted and mask indifference to him.

According to early British literature’s rules on the art of courtly love,  The value of love is commensurate with its difficulty of attainment.  

What if Bathsheba had accepted Gabriel’s original offer of marriage?  Would she have come to value his love as greatly as she eventually did when he persisted despite her continual rejection and unworthiness?  What if Adam and Eve hadn’t eaten the fruit in the garden?  Would we value the great love of our Father as much without seeing the lengths to which it would take Him?  

Or perhaps like the damsels of medieval history, and like Bathsheba, we have to be persuaded.  

Perhaps only a long, bumpy ride of a story is the best way for us experience love at its finest. 


- Laura