My Abigail

This is My Abigail. She loves life and loves to laugh. She also readily expresses her discontent with a situation and loudly if she can get away with it. Watching her, I am reminded of a pendulum. Suspended from a fixed point, the pendulum swings freely back and forth. The higher or farther it swings in one direction, it swings equally as high or far in the opposite. It cannot swing the full distance one direction without having swung the full distance in the other.

Abigail’s life and experiences are much like a pendulum. She experiences things fully. She is often absolutely grinning with all teeth revealed, eyes dancing as she laughs, and then a short time later in tears, she is inconsolable due to some “tragedy.” She loves to run as fast as her little legs will carry her, and yet can also be found in a heap on the floor in frustration or disappointment. She experiences her elation even greater if others will join her in her smiling and laughing, and yet she also has no shame in her crying or expressing her unhappiness.

Watch out for that swinging pendulum. The only way Abigail is able to experience the fullness of one emotion is her willingness to experience its opposite. We can all learn from Abigail, me especially. I have often wished for more joy in my life, but yet I choose to guard myself from hurt and pain and subsequently anything that might cause it. And so my pendulum swings with minimal movement - little pain, little joy, little pain, little joy. What a boring life!

David and I felt enormous responsibility when we were naming each of our girls. We believed that God had already chosen a name for them. We asked Him to show us a bit about each one and lead us to the right name for this new little person. We recognized the naming as just the beginning of choices and decisions we would make for that child. We also knew that we would need to stay in a posture of seeking God on behalf of our children from the beginning.

Interestingly, when I was pregnant with Abigail I kept having dreams that we were supposed to name our daughter Joy and Grace, but neither David or I were ready to commit to those names. To be honest, I discounted the dreams because I did not want to use either of those names.

David and I really liked the name Abigail, often talked about it as a possibility, and wondered if it was the name God was giving us for this little one. However, we were not convinced. Another name we considered was Patricia. David's mom, Patricia, was failing, and cancer had numbered her days. We planned to fly the girls out to Michigan to see her after the baby was born, if God allowed Patricia to be with us that long. She hoped she could meet her new grandchild. David and I wondered if we should name our little girl after her. We loved the idea of her being both honored and remembered in this way. Near this time we received a card in the mail from David’s mom who in her post script suggested the name Abigail (without knowing we were considering the name).

The next day also without knowing we were considering the name Abigail or about Patricia’s note, my mom asked me what we thought about the name Abigail. We were then convinced and it was decided - she was to be Abigail.

Abba, Aramaic, is translated “Daddy,” “dear Father,” or “papa.” Gila, giyl, and giylah are some of the Hebrew words that one can use to express '”joy.” Thus, Abigail means Father’s Joy. And I believe this little girl experiences the fullness of joy that her Heavenly Father has for her and subsequently brings Him and others joy.

Abigail still needed a middle name. David and I both loved the name Charis and came to find out that Charis (Greek) meant Grace. Remember my dreams. This was becoming uncanny! It wasn’t until after she was named and I was writing a letter to a friend that I remembered those dreams.

Renee is my middle name and we also wanted Abigail to have a family name, just as her sister Moriah Elizabeth did. We liked Renee (French) which means Reborn. And we really liked the meaning of the two names together, Grace Reborn. And this is how she became Abigail Karyss-Renee Busch.

Abigail did get to meet her grandma a few weeks before she passed. And I believe even then in a very unique way Abigail was able to bring joy.

Abigail Karyss-Renee Busch, My Father’s Joy full of Grace Reborn, this is only the beginning of your story.

Dance with Despair

Recently I had an afternoon where discouragement, depression and despair were all that I breathed. Lies, also known by the name Accuser, approached me. I entertained him and we began to dance. He kept showing me all the areas in my life where I was failing and inadequate, not fulfilling goals or walking forward in the direction of dreams, my lack of zeal and passion for the Lord, my lack of discipline, my over accumulation of stuff, my incompetency as a wife and mother, even daughter and sister, my apathy and lack of humility, and my unwillingness to look at things for what they are.

The Master of Lies took the truth of my inadequacies and then distorted and exaggerated it and then fed it back to me as representation of my worthlessness. He presented me with truths and I listened, and then when he served me the worthless entrée, I swallowed the whole course. I recognized the truth in the things he was showing me and so I danced.

Hours into our dance, fatigued, upset, and no longer wanting to look at any of what he was giving me, I wanted to shut out the world and quit on everyone. I was a failure, after all.

I knew, however, quitting was not an option. I had to go on with my day. I put the baby to bed and the girls in front of a video and lay down on the couch. I pleaded with the Lord for strength, to abide in me despite my weakness and failure, and to do through me what I couldn’t in my own strength. You see, I have been here before enough times to know that despite me, He will come and meet me.

David had preached on 1 Peter the prior Sunday and in that moment I was reminded of the verse about God having already equipped me for what I would need. I then began to write all that was swirling around in my head, both the lies and the truths, if for no other reason to stop the spinning. I have learned that if I can write that which is plaguing me, I often can let it go for the moment. It is then in a safe place where I can later return to it.

God then began to speak truth over me. He spoke of my worth. I went upstairs and read from authors who I knew could speak truth to my life in a way I could hear it.

I returned to Eldredge’s Waking the Dead where he discusses the battle in the spiritual realm. Eldredge also wrote in Epic of how we are in a greater story and we have a role to play. He tells us that things are not what they seem, but we are at war. And that we each have a crucial role to play. If Accuser can disable me, then he can hinder my effectiveness in the greater story. After all, it is not really about me but about the Spirit who resides in me whom Accuser desires to defeat. Good luck, buddy. The battle has already been won! But, how well can I play my role if I believe I am a failure? I think he thought he won.

Buechner writes - It is a world of magic and mystery, of deep darkness and flickering starlight. It is a world where terrible things happen and wonderful things too. It is a world where goodness is pitted against evil, love against hate, order against chaos, in a great struggle where often it is hard to be sure who belongs to which side because appearances are endlessly deceptive. Yet for all its confusion and wildness, it is a world where the battle goes ultimately to the good, who live happily ever after, and where in the long run everybody, good and evil alike, becomes known by his true name ... That is the fairy tale of the Gospel with, of course, one crucial difference from all other fairy tales, which is that the claim made for it is that it is true, that it not only happened once upon a time but has kept on happening ever since and is happening still. (Frederick Buechner, Telling the Truth)

It was then that I realized I had danced with the Master of Lies, Destruction, Despair – The Accuser. I later came to describe the incident as a dance with despair. I also came to recognize that for those few hours I chose to dance.

Entrusted Treasure

Eleanor Josephyne was brought into our arms June 19, 2008. She first came to be with us at her conception in September of 2007. Since then we have recognized her as a gift from God, not to possess in the same way one possesses a belonging, but as an entrusted treasure from her Creator. We dedicated (to set apart and consecrate) Ella’s life to God this past Sunday (October 19, 2008) before our church family. This is our heart, to raise Ella in such a way that she will know God and have a heart to serve Him with her life. In 1 Samuel 1:28, Hannah brings Samuel before God and declares, “So now I give him to the LORD. For his whole life he will be given over to the LORD." This is the hope and desire of God, that we give back to Him what truly belongs to Him and to continually hold our children before Him with open hands, surrendered. As David and I stood before our church family, we committed to maintaining this posture on Ella’s behalf.

Many times I have found myself gripped by fear, paralyzed by the idea of my children having to face suffering in this dark time. This past May, David’s niece, Becca lost her baby Issac in the last trimester of pregnancy. As she kissed Isaac Andreas goodbye, she said “I'm so thankful my baby will never know ANYTHING bad.” One of my greatest fears in having children is their facing the darkness and pain of this world. I understand Becca’s gratefulness that Isaac would spend eternity with his Creator and never have to face the evil of this world.

The only relief from my fear becoming more consuming is the call on my children’s lives and the need for light in this world. Eleanor, named after her grandmother, means “light” or “shining light” and Josephine means “God will increase” or “Jehovah increases”. Yes, we believe this is God's call on this little one’s life: to increase the light of His love and truth in a dark and confused world.



Pastor Mike Riley explaining the importance of dedicating a child


Me and my baby girl


For whom Ella was named after - Grandma Eleanor Bailey


Sisters


David explaining why we choose godparents for our children and announcing Rebecca Riley as Ella's godmother


Pastor Mike annointing Ella with oil


Mona Riley reading a prayer for Ella written by Rebecca in her absence


Ella in her dress made by Grandma Bailey for this occassion


Papa Garland Busch praying for Ella


Daddy praying for Ella


Ella being loved on by her Papa

Pink Flamingo

While coloring a flamingo, Moriah was remembering a recent trip to the zoo with her dad.

“We saw flamingos there, Mom. I am going to color him all pink.”

I was in the kitchen washing dishes, she, at the dining room table.

“Mommy, who was your daddy when you were little?”

“Grandpa is my daddy.”

“Oh, then he must love you very much.”

This was one of those moments when all the swirling activity of our home disappeared. Time had stopped and I stood there. Impacted by what she had just said, I was flooded with emotions. I had to take a minute to try and sort out what it was that I was feeling. I found myself overwhelmed with gratitude that this little girl knows with no doubt in her mind that her daddy absolutely and completely loves her.

I nearly took a picture of her flamingo, but I didn’t want to remember that moment with a photograph of her coloring. I want to hold the picture of her pink flamingo in my memory right next to all of the emotion that I choose to leave unsorted for now.

BOB Books

Moriah became interested in the names and sounds of letters when she was about 20 months old. For her second birthday Grandma Bailey gave her the School of Tomorrow preschool curriculum. I then slowly began to introduce letters one at a time. In the curriculum, each letter sound has a story with an animal and a song (i.e. the short “a” sound is about Abby Antelope). Due to my lack of discipline, we have moved very slowwwwly through these stories. However, somehow between then and now, even though we still have not finished all of the letters, sounds, or their stories, Moriah knows all of the letter sounds.

She was desperate to read and trying to sound out words on her own in books. At the end of August this year, Grandma brought home the first set of BOB Books (beginning readers) and Moriah began to read, “a whole book”, as she would say. The first set includes 18 books. Many of them, especially books 1-7 she has read 2 and 3 times each. You see, she gets a BOB Books’ sticker in a little sticker book each time she reads a book to someone. Yesterday she read the last book, #18.

One of the joys of parenting is experiencing with your children learning new things and the excitement they have with accomplishing. Yes, there have been many tears on this road too as Moriah has really wanted to do it and is also learning to manage frustration. But, she did it and is so proud. With great enthusiasm this morning we opened set 2 of the BOB Books Collections and she read book #1.

As we continue on this journey of reading and mastering elements of it - digraphs, sight words, silent-e words, the impact of “watch out” vowels and so much more, a whole new world is opening to Moriah. As we are surrounded by written language, information will be endlessly available to her. She is constantly trying to solve the formation of letters and what they communicate, whether it is on a cereal box or a street sign. This is an end of a chapter and the beginning of a new one.

Moriah with set 1 of the BOB Books Collection

Moriah will be 4 on October 27th.

Reflection

We have all heard the quote by C. S. Lewis, “We read to know we are not alone.” But why do we write? We write to come to know who we are, what we think, and what we believe. I believe this to be true even if one’s work is fiction. In writing, one comes to discover their feelings and belief systems. When I write, it is as if I were holding up a mirror. I have a hand mirror where one side is . . . a normal reflection (if there is such thing as a normal reflection). The flip side magnifies my face so I can see, well, more than I care to see of myself.

That is writing. Our reflection speaks to us. It might tell us, you are afraid, or full of a joy you are choosing to suppress, or maybe that it would like to try on a new idea, thought, or belief to see how they fit. As we try on new ideas or beliefs, they will either fit or they won’t. We often see this with adolescents. They try to be something they are not. This is because they are trying to sort out who they are and who they want to be. I often have to tell Reflection that I am not in the mood for trying on. In trying on, I may come to discover that something doesn’t really fit that for some reason I desperately want to believe does. Or it could be the other way. I want to think I don’t feel a certain way and I really do. Reflection is brutally honest and that is good even if it doesn’t feel so good. Writing allows us to look at ourselves and subsequently, we come to know ourselves better.

So, I put my pen to paper (or my fingers to the keyboard) and see what and who I am. And you know what is most cool? When Jesus talks to us by way of Reflection . Because He will if He is in your life. That is my favorite.

Wall-E and a Golden Drop of Sun

Today Mom and I took the girls to see Wall-E. This was the first trip to the movie theaters for our girls. They sat very attentively while consuming large amounts of Kettle Corn. When the movie was over I asked Moriah about her favorite part. She said she especially liked when the giraffe told the hippo, Gloria, that he loved her. Those of you that have seen Wall-E know that there is neither a giraffe or a hippo in the film. She was referring to the preview for Madagascar: Escape 2 Africa. Upon leaving the theater, Moriah cupped her hands under a small light on the wall leading up the aisle and said, "Look Mommy, it is a golden drop of sun." Me, being very locked into my educating answers, responded, "Moriah, it is a light." She in turn said,"I know Mommy, but it looks like a golden drop of sun and so I am pretending."

Oh, to be a child again and live with that kind of wonder. Where and when did I loose my imagination to get lost in moments such as this?

Seeing through the eyes of a child -"A golden drop of sun."

What I saw - "Moriah, it is a light."