Fire
The other night Cam took ages to fall
asleep. As a last resort I read to him, softly and hypnotically, the story of
Elijah calling down fire from heaven to prove that his God was more powerful than
Baal. I was trying to make the story sound soporific, not enthralling. He did
fall asleep, and I didn’t think he’d heard a thing. But his first words when he
ran into our room the next morning were, ‘Dad! God and Elijah made fire come
down from the sky on the big braai
they were making!’ Old stories sound thrillingly new in his mouth.
Old songs also sound new in his mouth. He
asked me to play ‘Seek ye first’ on the piano yesterday (because it’s one of
the small handful of pieces I can play, you know, with those three chords that I
know…). He then created an ear-splitting cacophony, banging up and down the
keyboard and mumbling some words. I asked him what he was playing and he
informed me earnestly, ‘I’m playing ‘Seek ye first’ in French.’
Flirting
I marvel at the way Scotty interacts
with other kids. Other people would say he’s just ‘normal’ but to us his
smiling eyes and the charming, flirtatious way that he bashes girls on the head
is such a gift. For a long, long time Cam didn’t really notice other kids,
which was unexpectedly heart-breaking for me. (Now of course Cam is making up for
lost time by talking eloquently and vociferously to anyone who will listen, and
some who won’t.)
I also find Scott paging through books
on his own, pointing and trying to say stuff. A gift, I tell you. There’s so much of God’s glory in what gets yawned
at as ‘normal’.
Scott understands pretty much every
instruction. We know this by how fast he can turn and run (= waddle rapidly),
usually laughing riotously, when we tell him to put something down. He is
starting to get the idea that frowns, smacks, stern tones and the like are
actually cause for serious concern and instant remorse. His obedience levels
are slowly rising, but the measurements on his cuteness barometer are still off
the charts, which makes disciplining him particularly hard. Like when he thought that climbing onto the
dining room table and tossing my iPad onto the tiles was a noteworthy feat. He
even clapped for himself.
Questions
Cam’s Top Two Most Difficult Questions
to Answer this week were:
‘Mom, why are some people born with
cataracts on their eyes? Why was I born with cataracts on my eyes?’
And
‘Dad, why can’t we see air? Is it
because there’s no paint in the right colour to paint it?’
Compliments
I am enjoying the fact that my boys
still think I am the coolest person to hang out with. Last week, some
colleagues and I performed a ridiculously OTT rendition of Abba’s Mama Mia, for the St Alban’s Talent Show.
We did win, but not because we were talented; only because our ridiculousness induced
happy hysteria. We hired costumes and borrowed wigs. I looked seriously dodgy.
Cam, however, told Murray, ‘Mommy looks like a princess in that fancy shiny outfit!’ Ah, the adorable naivety and
misplaced taste!
Vows
Seven years, two months and one week
ago, Murray said this to me:
Before
God, our family and friends, I, Murray Watson Reyburn, take you, Dalene Dawn
Smith, to be my wife. I promise to pursue the God-inspired picture of my role
as your husband. For better, for worse, in sickness and in health, I will pray
for you. I will be your leader, lover, protector, provider and priest. I will
seek to inspire your dreams and encourage you to become all God wants you to
be. I will be your best friend and your refuge from the world. I will respect
you and support you in all things. I will seek your forgiveness when I’ve
wronged you. I promise you my honesty and loyalty, and that I’ll seek to put
your needs above mine. If God gives us children I will give them the greatest
gift of all by loving their mother. I promise to forsake all others and remain
faithful to you until death parts us or the Lord returns for His own.
We wrote our own wedding vows – they are
framed above the piano. I don’t get tired of reading them. I’ve been
particularly aware lately that ‘The words
of the godly are a life-giving fountain…’ (Proverbs 10:11) and that what Murray
promised me wasn’t just feel-good romance (though romantic it was – is). He
promised me a lifetime of strength, companionship and unconditional love. I am supremely
blessed. I just share this because being a mom is tough some days but those
promises underpin and energise and empower me in a pretty miraculous way, and I
see God’s glory in the way he designed the human home.
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