What black beans taught me about coveting

In one of my first posts I wrote about the purpose of this blog-- seeing the Gospel in ordinary moments.

And since then, I've pretty much blogged about the "big stuff"-- first foods, first crawl, first watermelon eating contest...nothing about life's ordinary moments...

...which is strange since the sum of my life is mostly ordinary moments.

Like the day Aleigha was eating black beans in her high chair. One-by-one she picked each one up and artfully shoved it into her mouth. I turned my back to do something else, perhaps dice some fruit for her, and when I came back, I discovered...yes, that's right: she's helping herself to all of the beans.

Oh, perhaps she ran out of beans and didn't want to bother asking? Nope. She still had beans on her tray.

Beans in the bowl are far more appealing than beans on the tray....right? We laugh at her because it's funny to watch a baby want what she doesn't have, especially when she's only wanting black beans. But for an older child or adult, and especially for a follower of Christ, coveting is not-so-funny. 

"But sexual immorality and all impurity or covetousness must not even be named among you, as is proper among saints. Let there be no filthiness nor foolish talk nor crude joking, which are out of place, but instead let there be thanksgiving. For you may be sure of this, that everyone who is sexually immoral or impure, or who is covetous (that is, an idolater), has no inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and God." (Eph. 5:3-5)

When we covet our minds become consumed with our desires...and little else.

John Piper defines coveting like this: "'Covetousness'" means desiring something other than God in the wrong way.

Misdirected desire-- where the thing I want and my enjoyment of the thing is more important to me than God. Coveting is idolatry. ("...who is covetous (that is, an idolater)." (See also Colossians 3:5.)

Oh, how I've been a covetous idolater. Where my mind is so consumed with what I want that my relationship with God and others is affected. Where I relish the relationships and things I have to the point of being prideful. Where I enjoy the things I have so much that I cannot see the needs of others. Where I want things so much I am drawn away from my duties and responsibilities.

Coveting, I am finding, is so much more than simply wanting something that you don't have. Coveting is misdirected love.

So, was Aleigha really coveting? Well, I dunno. Maybe she was just exploring the world within her reach?? But I think her actions speak truth of human nature: what is just out of reach looks delicious. {smile}

Trust

Now that you’ve heard the birth story. I’d like to share my experience afterward. Actually, this post serves as an explanation of why I haven’t posted much since her birth. {smile}

Even though I've heard about the "sleepless" nights with a newborn, I was shocked at the depth of sleep deprivation I experienced after Aleigha's birth.

I thought I was prepared since I hardly slept in college. If I could earn a bachelor’s on five hours of sleep a night for weeks at a time, surely I could handle waking up a few times a night to nurse a baby? I didn’t consider, however, the recovery process after delivery and the difficulties of nursing.

Recovering after a 50-hour labor takes time. My sleepless college nights never included catching up on sleep after a two all-nighters in a row.  Unlike in college, after giving birth, I couldn’t choose to sleep for 12 hours straight to pay my sleep debt. As a nursing mommy, I needed to be available to my baby daughter around the clock.

I’m convinced that the combination of a hard delivery and the need to nurse a baby every 2 hours immediately after giving birth is a product of the Fall. God, in His Goodness, would never create the combination of a hard labor and an always-hungry baby, right? Or would He? While hard labor is, I believe, part of the curse, God, in His Goodness, redeems the hardships in our lives for His glory.

Our first night home from the hospital was far from restful. My little baby cried so much, waking up every 45 minutes around the clock. My mother stayed with us for the first week, and was gracious to get up with me every time Aleigha nursed. As a new mommy, I was scared and worried that I didn’t know how to care for my baby.

At 3 am, Aleigha woke-up crying. I could hear her perfectly; she slept in a little co-sleeper next to our bed. I rolled out of bed, scooped her up, and stumbled into our living room. Aleigha refused to eat, however. After a few sucks, she fell asleep. I tried in vain to wake her up, knowing that if I put her back in bed, she would only wake up and want to nurse again.

I was hitting my wall. Why did she refuse to eat for longer than 5 minutes? Why would she refuse to sleep for longer than 45 minutes? Would this really last all day and all night?

My mom finally took Aleigha from me and said, “I’ll get her to sleep and come an wake you when she needs to eat again.” Those two hours were the best sleep I’d had in days.

For the next two-and-half months, I was completely, utterly, exhausted. I felt like I was going crazy.  A small part of me was bitter that I was the one primarily responsible for waking up with her. I was her source of food and comfort. Couldn’t I have a break? I quickly learned that once I became a mother, I’d always be a mother....

In the middle of night, I awoke, yet again to her cries. I was not only tired and frustrated, but also fearful and anxious. Would I ever get enough rest? Tiredness is manageable, but utter exhaustion...? 

Then, somewhere in the chaos of sleep deprivation, I realized that I needed to trust: trust that God knew my pain and would sustain me. He gave us Aleigha, and He would provide the means with which to care for her. If the only sleep I could get was an interrupted 4 hours of sleep, He knew, and would care for us. 

I can’t say that I’ve always maintained a good attitude in the middle of the night, but from that moment, my attitude changed. On those nights when I see every hour of the night, I’m too tired to remember much, but I can say one word: Trust.  

True Love Makes Deviled Eggs

I’ve just eaten a deviled egg, an egg my husband made for me.

We learned in our BradleyBirth Class about the importance of consuming lots of protein during pregnancy.  Yet, when I tracked my normal eating habits, I discovered that I generally eat about 25-50 grams per day, which is what a normal woman needs. A pregnant women needs about 70-100 grams per day. Since I am in the last trimester of pregnancy, when baby’s protein needs are the highest, I realized that I needed to increase my protein intake. (A high intake of protein might also decrease the risk of complications like preeclampsia.)

Eggs have lots protein and they are inexpensive, but I dislike eating them. Jason, hoping to encourage me eat the right foods, made hardboiled eggs anyway. Yucky.

Ever since I was a little girl, I've disliked the texture, taste, sight, and smell of hardboiled egg yolks. Usually, I pull out the yolk, add salt and pepper to the white part of the egg, and quickly eat it before I change my mind. I actually used to wash the yolk residue out of egg white part because I couldn’t stand to eat or look at even a tiny bit of yolk. I don’t do that anymore, so I consider that enough progress for the next decade or so.

Apparently, that’s not enough progress for Jason. “Eat the yolk—it’s good for you.” Eat the y.o.l.k? Gross! There’s no way I can choke that down. Never.

“I can’t!” I whined. “Please don’t make me. There’s enough protein in the white part.”

Jason said, “You have to.”  

Noooo! I can’t! Uh, I can only eat them when they are deviled.

Deviled eggs? I actually don't prefer to eat deviled eggs either. But, truly, that is the only way to make the egg yolk palatable enough for me to eat. I discovered this years ago at my aunt’s house one holiday. (Easter?) I bravely gave the deviled eggs a try and realized they weren’t so terrible.

Ironically, to make a deviled egg, one mixes the yolk with mayonnaise (and a few other ingredients). Now, I really dislike mayonnaise, probably even more than I dislike egg yolks. Yet, when mixed together, the hardboiled egg yolk and mayonnaise cancel each other out and create something that I can eat. (Kind of like how sodium and chlorine, two poisons, combine to make table salt.)

So, upon hearing that I won’t eat egg yolks unless they are in a deviled egg, my sweet man hardboiled a dozen eggs and found a yummy deviled egg recipe. See?

Love comes in many forms.

Mother's Sacrifice

Sacrifice. 

I’ve thought a lot about sacrifice over the past 8 months—ever since we found out on January 8 that we were expecting our first child.

To bear a child requires a measure of sacrifice. As Christ sacrificed himself to give us life, so a mother gives of her body to bring a new life into the world. I am not trying to equate death on a cross with pregnancy, however pregnancy is a way that a woman gives up that which she values (comfort, mobility, figure, and such) to make life possible for another. (In some circumstances mothers have literally given their lives to bear a child.)

Christ sacrificed himself, his comfort, his body to give us life. Mothers have a unique opportunity to follow in Christ's footsteps through the bearing of children.

After we conceived, I didn’t fully realize how much my body would have to change to accommodate and grow a little person. (And, she didn’t feel like a baby until much later in the pregnancy.)

First Trimester (Weeks 5-13)

Initially, I felt carsick all of the time. I didn’t realize I was feeling morning sickness until my mom told me I was feeling morning sickness. Since I was busy with a new semester teaching and started part-time work at a non-profit, I was terribly busy and felt like I was just trying to survive each week.

At the start of every week, I’d rejoice that I was (hopefully?) closer to not feeling so “blah” all of the time. Through the physical changes, my dear husband was loving and supportive—he would even toss a few ingredients together and make his own dinner when I felt too sick to look at food.  (The most offensive smell was….my own pantry! I couldn’t handle opening it!)

Second Trimester (Weeks 14-27)

Towards the beginning I still felt pretty icky, but around week 17 or so I started to feel slightly “normal.” But, I still didn’t feel her kick until about week 18 or 19. (I might have felt movement sooner, but I can’t be sure).

Around week 20, I felt pretty great—and actually pregnant. Not just chunkier than usual. Not just more tired that usual. But pregnant. I still didn’t have much of a belly until week 27 or so.  

Third Trimester (Weeks 28-due date)

We are at week 33 and I suppose I still don’t have much of a belly. But, I so appreciate that perfect strangers know I am pregnant.   

“Oh, when are you due?!” “Are you having a boy or a girl?” “You're due when?! You’re so tiny!” (<--love that one!)

My favorite moment: I am in the checkout line at Coscto and an elderly Hispanic man in a wheel chair points at my belly and says, “BOY!?!?” 

I replied, “Uh no, girl. You were so close!” 

Close? Really? How was that even close? Ah well, he did give his best try. 

I love feeling her kick and squirm (she’s always moving!). I like feeling her hiccup. I enjoy watching her push my belly button up and down. (Always when I try to read my bible—I think God understands though).  

The verse I’ve clung to often is Is. 40:11 

“He will tend his flock like a shepherd;
     he will gather the lambs in his arms;
he will carry them in his bosom,
    and gently lead those that are with young.”

With God’s help, I can carry and deliver this lil’ girl.

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Why Talous Treasures...?

Last May, Jason Heki and I were married and I became a Heki. We both knew that Heki is Finnish (Jason’s nickname in college on the Ultimate Frisbee field was “Finnish Strong.”) But, we later discovered that our surname is Finnish form of Henry, which means “home ruler.”  

“Home” or “household” in Finnish is talous. Talous also means economy, capturing the Greek origins of the word οἰκονόμος ("one who manages a household"). Today, we don’t think of “economy” and “household” in the same sentences, but before the Industrial Revolution, a household and the economy (or management of economic affairs) were intertwined.

Treasures is explained by the verse at the top of the blog: But we have this treasure in jars of clay, to show that the surpassing power belongs to God and not to us. (2 Cor. 4:7)

I’ve always loved the meaning of this verse. We who are “jars of clay” have the treasure of “the light of the gospel of the glory of Christ, who is the image of God.” (2: Cor. 4:4) 

A clay pot was an ordinary vessel, probably like Tupperware today.  How precious to know that we, ordinary vessels, have the presence of God dwelling in us!

Talous Treasures—an ordinary household of clay pots sharing “Jesus Christ as Lord, with ourselves as your servants for Jesus' sake” (2 Cor. 4:5). As God reveals, I am delighted when I find His gospel in ordinary life moments…. [more to follow]


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