The Banquet

My family recently attended a 40th birthday party. It was one of the most elaborate, amazing, larger-than-life parties we have ever been to. Here's the photos to prove it (and yes...that's a REAL flowing chocolate waterfall and river on the cake):


And we didn't even know the birthday girl (Kim) prior to her party.

My entire family of six benefited and was blessed simply because Kim wanted to bless more people through her celebration. 

Kim is a friend of a friend. She had been planning the party for ages: Willy Wonka themed at the Alamo Drafthouse Cinema, birthday cake from a famous bakery, and as much candy as Wonka's factory for her guests.

Our mutual friend, Marti, told me about the party a few days before the big event. She was going over her families' costume ideas (because a larger-than-life party demands fun costumes!) and explaining all the plans:

"Kim got to meet Duff Goldman and decorate cakes with him...she got connected to a bakery in Austin, Cakes Rock...they have also been featured on the Food Network!...Kim is planning on all this candy...she bought tackle boxes for all the guests to fill with any candy they want! Kim is going as Willy Wonka...I think Rob and I will go as a Wonka Bar and a Golden Ticket...(candy candy candy fun fun fun)..."

My head was spinning, imagining all the logistics, time, money, and creativity implemented to pull off such a bash!

"And she needs more people to come!" Marti said.

"Say what now?" I reply.

"She reserved all these seats at the Alamo Drafthouse and there are several spots left. Not all her friends could make it...so she asked me to invite more people," Marti explained.

"Are you serious...like my whole family? Like not just the people she knows, but complete strangers she has never met...strangers with kids..." I couldn't wrap my mind around the generosity.

"Yes...you and your whole family."

Suddenly, I found myself in the middle of a Bible parable: the Parable of the Great Banquet. In Luke 14:15-24 Jesus tells of a "certain man" who planned this elaborate, amazing, larger-than-life party. He invited all his friends, only to find several could not attend. Knowing how grand his plans were for the party, he sent his servants to find anyone wishing to come. He was not about to waste his preparations. He wanted a celebration! The more the merrier!

Getting the invite for Kim's 40th birthday party from Marti, cast us into roles: Kim was the Generous Man, Marti the Servant, and me the Anyone Wishing to Come.

The whole situation taught me deeper truths about the Kingdom of God:
1. I am not entitled to His grace: it is a gift. (John 3:16). Like the invitation to attend an amazing party!
2. There is nothing I could have done to pay for admission: He invites us into His presence because He is generous. (Eph. 2:8-9; 3:20)
3. God likes parties. (1 John 1:3; Luke 15:10)

Ironically, Willy Wonka embodies God's grace and generosity as well: he wanted people to enjoy the factory with him. Wonka had planned, prepared, and worked hard to provide joy and good things to the world. He invited people into his factory to find one who would follow him. All broke his rules (even Charlie). But Charlie is the only repentant child: he knows he did wrong by drinking the Fizzy Lifting Drink and demonstrates good character and desire for right relationship with Wonka by returning the Everlasting Gobstopper (showing Wonka there is no risk of siding with Wonka's enemy, Slugworth). Charlie inherits the factory, and "lives happily ever after."

The Bible tells us that when we repent, God "is faithful and just to forgive us our sins and cleanse us from all unrighteousness" (1 John 1:9). Coming into right relationship with God, we inherit the Kingdom through Jesus Christ (great explanation on that here). But His Kingdom won't spoil like the candy in Wonka's factory...truly "live happily ever after."

So, Kim, thank you again for including us! It was divine.

I Hate Bath Crayons (and other things I don't like that in theory I'm supposed to love)

I hate bath crayons.
In theory, they're great: give your kids them in the tub and they can create wonderful art while they bathe.
Why? Why do kids need to draw in the tub? Isn't that what paper is for? Aren't there literally thousands of products on the market for creating art work? shops dedicated exclusively to art? So why do we need to encourage art in the bath? We don't. Especially since the bless-ed things take so much time and effort to clean up. It's enough that I have to get the kid out of the tub, dried, diapered and in pjs... but now I have to turn around and clean up the eye sore that was once a nice cleanly tiled white tub. Boo bath crayons.
Other things I don't like that in theory I'm supposed to love:
*puppies
*kittens
*animals in the house (P.S. I have a dog and a cat living in the house)
*other people's animals in my house
*other people's animals in their house
*the McRib
*Starbucks (because it's an addition and I'm not giving it up)
*electronic sign in
*the person in front of me using coupons at the check out
*the person in front of me using coupons at the self check out
*the person in front of me using coupons at the self check out and getting an error message
*Ikea shopping carts
*the beep my car makes when the driver door is open and the key is in the ignition
*new feather pillows (it takes years to pull out the quills... you know, you have to do the hand scan before you lay your head down or you end up getting stabbed in the eye with something that feels like a needle, and you wonder how a needle could have gotten in your pillow. But it's an invisible needle and you can see it, so maybe it's just your imagination. Then you lay your head back down and you get stabbed in your ear... the cycle starts all over... but it's victory when you find that little sticker and pull it out and keeps coming and coming out through the fibers of your pillow case. And then you name that long giant feather Moby Dick.

"Mommy's not here right now... please leave a message after I've had my coffee..."

I am now the proud owner of 3 sons. Almost 4, almost 2 and almost 2 months... If I admit their true ages (31/2, 22 months and 7 weeks) people reliably raise their eyebrows to phathom the reality and the audacity of my fertility: "You've been busy, "So close..." "Wow, mom's got her hands full." Yes, yes and yes.

I know.

What does one reply?

"Yeah... my husband and I just can't keep our hands off eachother." (TMI for a stranger)

"They're not all mine"?

Oh, but they are. All mine. And I love them.
I find that nowadays it's easy to get bogged down and dragging. The energy tank runs on fumes.
I tire of hearing, "mom... Mom... MOM...MOMMY MOM MOM MOM MOM MOM...!"
Drive a sane person insane... but really the term should be "out of sane."
So I drift off in thought about an answering maching: "Mommy's not here right now... please leave a message."
And wouldn't it be lovely if my children actually respected the system to leave a detailed message after the tone. Then mommy will return their call as soon as she has had more coffee.

"A two headed bird"
My young son exclaimed
"Look, mommy, look"
Is it true what he claimed?

I looked out the window
Puzzled and impressed
When I saw it
That thing my young son expressed

But how do I explain it
Without ruining a thing?
How do I explain to my 3 year old
What two birds do in the Spring?

Girls, Play With Bugs

I was privileged to witness the blossoming of a "women are from Venus, men are from Mars" moment: a moment that transpired between my 3yr old son, Jude, and a fellow classmate, Kate. Kate's mother approached me after picking our kids up from school.
"Kate was telling me she wanted to marry a prince. I asked her which one, thinking it was Prince Charming or Philip. But Kate replied,'Jude.'"
When Kate saw Jude outside, she batted her little eyelashes and said,"Hi, Jude. Will you marry me?"
Jude was oblivious to sweet little Kate's proposal as he was too preoccupied with squishing the ants and looking for rolly pollies on the ground.
The scene reminded me that those moments never end. Too often women are speaking from their heart... exposing their innermost desires. And the men... those men... are completely oblivious.
So, what to do?
Well, I personally prefer Kate's approach:
After realizing her Prince Jude was more interested in bugs than in listening to her, she turned her attention to the ants and the rolly pollies too.
If Prince Jude wasn't interested in matrimony, at least Princess Kate could be interested in bugs.
And they played happily ever after.

The Artists

Recently, I have started a new painting... in oil. This plight is extremely more daring and dangerous nowadays because I have two young boys who want to be with mommy... always. Oil paint and children is worse than a bull in a China shop. Way worse... in fact, I once saw a show, "Mythbusters" and they actually put a bull in a China shop. The bull avoided the shelves and was actually quite agile in manuvering his mass around the delicate porclein. Not so with a young child and paint. Oil paint is magic: even when I paint, it magically gets all over the place regardless of the care I place in keeping it restrained.
Enter small child #1: Heads right for the wet oil on the palatte. Mom miraculously swoops down, percariously balancing paint brush and paint tubes, to intercept budding artist.
Enter small child #2: Heads for the paint brushes soaking in the turpintine.
Mom swivels and grabs up the small child, holding a paintbrush in her mouth and the palette of wet oils just out of Small Child #2's reach.
Barking orders to Small Child #1 through teeth clenched down on her paintbrush, #1 just stares... unable to understand what all the fuss is about. "Get out, please... mommy's working."
"I work too." Grabbing a clean paintbrush, #1 begins to "paint" the wall.
Small Child #2 is now fighting his way out of his mommy's arms to get a paintbrush for himself. Putting #2 down, mommy picks out a nice clean one and hands it to him. He too "paints" the wall.
Admiring her adorable artists, mommy soon realizes she has gotten paint all over herself. Her shirt is ruined. Oil does not wash out.
Oh well. At least her kids are spotless.
And that painting... well that painting will get done the day I put a dead bolt on the door.

A Story of a Butterfly

There once was a caterpillar

Who ate day and night

But no matter how much he ate

Could not curb his appetite

He went from here to there

Munching away at the flowers

at the leaves and the grass blades

He devoured for hours

What could stop his hunger?

This yearning inside?

He just felt empty

With nowhere to hide

Until one day, as he sat all alone

Pondering life and the whys

He overheard a butterfly pray

It brought tears to his eyes

“Thank-you, God, my Lord

My strength and my shield

To you be the praise and glory

For whom my will yield

There is none greater than you

For you, my broken heart, healed

I used to be such a selfish bug

Keeping my hurts and sorrows concealed

But you made me a new creature

My new heart has been revealed

By your grace alone, the gift of your Son

His death on the cross in a field

You gave me new life.”

Prayed the butterfly as he kneeled

When the butterfly was done

Praying to the Lord

The caterpillar asked him

To share some wise word

“I have hurts and I have pains,”

The caterpillar cried,

“I have such empty loneliness

Consuming me on the inside

What can I possibly do?

It would be better if I just died

I’m so awful and ugly

My soul has been dried.”

The caterpillar wept

As the butterfly took him under his wing

“I want you to listen

Because I will tell you something:

My God is a God of love and of grace

He wants to save you

He wants to change your heart

And there’s only one thing you have to do:

Believe in Christ

That he died for your sins

When you do this

Your new life begins

I too was selfish and weary

Feeling lonely and sad

I hurt so much

It got really bad

But then a butterfly told me

How God had changed his heart

And now, here I am

Playing a new part

Instead of devouring

For hours and hours

My new form is this:

I now can bless the flowers

God has transformed me

It did take a while

But look at me now!

Look how I smile!

I am transformed!

I am new!

I am changed!

Look what God can do!”

So the caterpillar inched off

He found a quiet place

He quieted his heart

And sought God’s grace

When he opened his eyes

He could hardly believe

The love of the Lord God

Caused ALL his burdens to leave

He felt completely different

And then he knew why

The transforming love and grace of God

Had turned him into a butterfly

Spread your wings

Go and fly

Let the Lord God

Turn you into a butterfly

--By a Butterfly in Training