Ok, God.

Sometimes I think God is talking to me.  Not in a audible way, but sometimes when I see or hear or read something, and I feel it at a gut level, feel a heaviness in my spirit about it, I think he's talking to me.  Many times, I don't want to hear what he's saying, because it's hard.  It's discipline.  It's tough love.  It's reminding me of things I already know, but have been ignoring.  But I would be amiss (or remiss?  or both?) to ignore his voice and conviction.  Sometimes what he is saying to me stops me dead in my tracks.  I hate it.  I don't want to be stopped.  I don't have time to slow down and give it thought, and I don't have the emotional energy to take it in and let it change me. This morning he stopped me like that.  I have tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat over something I saw on Facebook.  I wasn't expecting it; I was gearing up for all the tasks I need to complete today and was just perusing FB while I sipped my coffee.  And then I saw this, and it stopped me. 
You can see it here.

Cancer sucks.  My uncle and grandfather died of cancer in their 60s, and we lost our dear Joel to cancer a few years ago.  My dad passed away from cancer in 2006.  Dad's death left a gaping hole in my heart and in my life, the pain of which has become more acute since Tyler was born.  I never knew my Grandpa Land - he died before I was born.  Tyler will never know his Grandpa Land.  This is one of the saddest realities I have to live with.  Even now, as I write this, my heart aches.  It aches.  I can't imagine that it could be true that Tyler will never sit on his Grandpa's lap, or go swimming or play games with him or sing songs with him in his music room. 

My dad was a casual smoker.  He smoked a pipe while I was growing up.  Never excessively, but I remember the pipe sitting on the end table by his chair, and I remember the sweet smell of the smoke wafting in from outside sometimes.  I find the smell comforting, actually.  Later in his life I think he might have been smoking more frequently, and smoking cigarettes, though I don't know that for certain.  I don't know if the smoking caused his pancreatic cancer, or just compromised his cells enough for the cancer to appear.  Maybe it had nothing to do with it at all, and he would have gotten the cancer regardless.  I don't resent him for smoking or place blame on him.  I think we all try the hardest we can to cope in life, and honestly he was such a great man, and such a true servant of Christ.  I would never judge him for his weaknesses, whether or not those weaknesses are what led to his sickness and death. 

I am a casual smoker.  I hide it from most people, especially now that I'm a mother, because I resent the idea that they would judge me for it.  Although, I'm sure no judgment from others could ever match the internal judgment I place on myself for smoking.  I'm not a pack-a-day smoker - never have been - but it doesn't really matter that I don't smoke that many cigarettes, or that I never smoke around Tyler, or that I do it mostly when I'm stressed out.  The point is that I have a bad habit, and this particular habit happens to be one that has been proven to compromise health.  I know that it's bad for me, and I hate it, but I still do it.  I guess that's the definition of addiction.

When I saw those photos this morning, it was like God was just smacking me right in the face, in a loving way, saying, "Ember, you're an intelligent woman.  I know you get this.  I want you to stop and consider the implications.  Really consider them, and consider how much your family needs you, consider the devastation it would cause to Chris if you became ill, and consider that Tyler will want his children to be able to hang out with their Grandma one day."

Now, I am definitely prone to guilt.  I feel guilty about almost everything.  Guilt tends to make me either shut down, or run headlong further into the thing I feel guilty about, sort of like giving a proverbial middle finger to whoever or whatever is making me feel guilty.  In this case, though, I need to feel guilty.  I don't think God is trying to make me feel guilty - he knows me well enough to know that it isn't an effective motivator for me - but I need to own the guilt that I have.

I know the wrenching pain of losing someone to cancer.  I understand how much it hurts the family, and I saw a glimpse of the kind of physical pain it causes the victim.  It seems like it should be easy to take that knowledge and use it as the impetus to change my habits.  It should be easy, but it is difficult.  I may never get cancer, God willing.  I may not even get high blood pressure.  There is no way of knowing, and I think we really have very little control over how we die, ultimately.  But instead of looking at that fact as an excuse, I want to try to allow God to redeem me more, and pay attention to what I already know...that there is one thing within my control, and that is my power to choose.  I want to choose better.

Will I never smoke again?  Um, honestly?  I sort of doubt that the cigarette I had last night will be my last one ever.  Never smoking again is not a promise I'm willing to make because I think we are silly to make these grandiose promises that we most likely will not keep (because we're flawed and human and all).  But this is a faith issue for me, I think, at it's heart, that goes beyond the smoking habit.  I need a Redeemer.  On a daily basis.  Much more than I need a cigarette.  I need someone whose ways are higher than mine and someone whose love is bigger than mine, who can see past all the crap in my heart and in my life, and can pull out and clean off the shining gem that is my soul.  I can't do this for myself.  It requires a belief in my own goodness and potential that I just don't possess.  The trick though, is to believe in the goodness and potential of God.

The smoking thing is just one thing that I struggle with, and sometimes when I think about it, it seems like no big deal.  Everyone has a vice, right?  We gotta do what we can to cope in life.  But this morning, after seeing those pictures and feeling God's hand resting gently, but firmly on my soul, like a parent offering loving and painful discipline to a child, I am reminded that it's not just about one habit.  It's about the general direction of life, and the amazing gift we've been given by God to make choices that set us on one path or another.  It's about the opportunity we have to overcome those things that stand in our way.  The choices we make ARE a big deal, because they define us.  I think the definition of me - the true definition, penned by God himself - is a more magnificent definition.  So, my promise to myself and to Chris and to Tyler and to the Lord today, this Easter week, is to seek that definition and allow it to shape my choices and my life, however long I am blessed to live on earth.

La la la la, la la la la, Tyler's World...

My little boy is nearly two years old.  I can't believe it.  Everyone told me that time would go quickly and that he would grow up fast, and boy, were they right!  It seems like only yesterday we were just bringing him home from the hospital and setting up our home with our new little guy.  I can't describe the amount of joy and fullness of heart that I feel as a result of my Tyler.  He has quite a little personality.  He's a charmer, like his dad.  He has a smile that melts my heart and he is so stinking smart!  I can't believe this kid's vocabulary, and his ability to link words together in little sentences and to connect concepts.  Of course I am his mom, so I think he's a complete genius, but I am seriously amazed by him every single day.  A good friend of mine recently reminded me that I need to keep a record of what he says and does and how he makes me laugh and cry (in a good way, of course).  She said to me, "you think you will remember all this stuff, but you will forget, so write it down."  So, I'm going to write it down, as much as I can so that I can remember, and so that he will know how completely awesome he was, even from a very young age.  Already I have forgotten a lot of the way he pronounced certain words when he first began talking, but here are some things from the last few months...

Every morning Tyler wakes up between 6 and 7 a.m. (Lord, help me) and almost inevitably the first words out of his mouth are "I unt faffles."  (I want waffles).  He loves eggos and has eaten one nearly every morning for the last year.  His other favorite foods are yogurt, french fries and fruit/veggie pouches.

He used to always call bananas "maynas."  Recently he has begun calling them "mananas."  It's closer to the correct pronunciation, but I prefer "maynas," simply because the fact he is pronouncing things more accurately reminds me of how quickly he is growing up.

Over the last few months he has developed a huge love for basketball.  I directed High School Musical at the university, and Tyler's favorite pastime was coming to "Mommy Office" to play "bassetball" with C-Bass and "Trishan" (Christian), two of my students in the show.  He has his own little hoop at home and he stands up on a box to shoot hoops because he is not quite tall enough to reach from the floor.  He can say "rebound" and can chant "Defense!" while clapping his little hands with the best of 'em. When Daddy shoots a basket, his success is met with an excited, "Daddy did it!" from Ty.

He also likes music and loves to dance.  He has some pretty awesome little moves for a white kid.  He likes to engage his whole little body, incorporating some deep knee bends, some pretty fancy spins, and lots of twisting wrists and arms.  It's the cutest thing I've ever seen.

Much to this mama's delight, he has started singing some of the little songs that I have sung to him since he was just a wee little one.  The other day in the car I heard him sing an entire verse of Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star, all by himself and unprompted.  My heart nearly burst.

Every time we drive by a fast food restaurant, he says, "I unt fruh-fries."  And when we drive past the local Chipotle restaurant, he asks for a "say-see-ya" (quesadilla). I'm always amazed by the fact that he recognizes locations and even knows which street we turn on to get to my office. 

We say a lot of I Love Yous in our house, and Tyler, for some reason, pronounces it "I ya dum."  Not sure where the "dum" part came from , but I'm certainly not going to correct that anytime soon.  There is nothing I love more than hearing him say "I ya dum, mommy."

And then there is the Binta (pronounced beenta).  This is a word Tyler came up with to describe his binky or pacifier.  The Binta has taken on it's own persona in his little world, and sometimes I think he loves Binta more than his mom and dad.  He gets super excited when he sees Binta, and when we reluctantly let him have his Binta (though we wish we could break him of it....).  Recently he has been asking me to sing "Happy To You" (Happy Birthday to You) to Binta.  Oh, Lord.

Some of my other favorite phrases these days are:
-"Daddy g-up" or "Ty Ty g-up" (Daddy get up, Ty Ty get up - when he wants us to get out of bed).
-"Mommy home!" or "Daddy home!" (said with excitement when we get home after being away for a few hours.
- "I unt brush teef, toof-pace" ( I want to brush teeth with toothpaste)
- If we ask him a question and he doesn't know the answer, he will say "Um!" He used to say "Ummmm..." but recently it has changed to more of a statement.  Um!
- He loves Elmo and Sesame Street.  "Sreet" is his name for the show, and he will ask for "Sreet Guys" when he wants to play with his little SS figurines.
- "Uhn go ow-shide!" (I want to go outside).

I also love it when he says "Hi Mommy!" or "Hi Daddy!" with a high-pitched, almost surprised inflection, like he is really genuinely glad to see us.  Melts my heart.

I'm sure there are a million more, and I'm realizing even as I write this that I already have forgotten some.  I need to start keeping a little notebook and pen nearby to write things down.  I know every kid learns words and develops the ability to ask for what he/she wants and put together ideas.  I realize this is not some crazy phenomenon.  However, I think it is uncanny how he comes up with things on his OWN, and how he hears and repeats every little thing, and how he can process concepts in his little brain.  We humans are amazing creatures, really.  God designed us so expertly and with such love.  Tyler reminds me constantly of how the Father must look at us, with wonder at what we can do, with so much hope for what we can be and with more love than can be described in words.