Sometimes my daughter does stuff that reminds me of my relationship with God. Sort of like…

She wakes up in the middle of a dark, scary night and RUNS for me. Once she’s in my arms, she squirms and kicks and fusses until sweet rest finds her. And then she sleeps in THIS position:

A sort of, “Do I HAVE TO? I don’t WANNA get up,” attitude bounces out of those photos.
After waking up (cranky) we got her ready for the sitters. She wore her feety PJs because they have Ana and Elsa on them and she refuses to take them off. I pick my battles, and I’ve been around long enough to know that you can’t win against Elsa.
So I let it go.
(I couldn’t help myself, okay?)
She slept for an hour and a half at the sitters and came home merry and bright. I had an hour and a half “break” before my piano lessons started, after which we were picking up a few donations for Lacy’s Project, after which we were eating dinner and decorating gingerbread houses with some friends.
At this point, my “shoulds” kicked in and I cleaned like crazy -dishes, vacuuming, picking up, dusting.
Alice asked for her high chair and then pulled this number:

When I went to save her from certain neck breakage, she simply said, “I’m stuck,” and looked down at the one leg she hadn’t managed to free from the buckle.
Stuck? You’re STUCK? Your problem is that?! No, sweet child. Your stuck-ness is what’s saving your bacon.
I sometimes I wonder if God feels the same way about me… I think He does.
“God, I’m STUCK. Get me out of what’s keeping me safe, preferably yesterday.”
“Alicia. No.”
“PLEASE?!”
At this point, I think God pats my head and chuckles. Because toddlers are pretty dang funny.

During my five music lessons, Alice ran out the door and onto the neighbor’s grass. I found her because her light blue jammies really stood out against the grey day yesterday.
“I want go home,” she said, reaching her pink, cold hands up toward me.

I do that too.
I leave home and wander out into the grey cold and soon my Heavenly Parents come searching for me. Sometimes I run in the opposite direction, but sometimes it’s so cold I reach my chilled pink hands up and say, “I want go home.”

And God lets me choose. He lets me choose to run away or reach up.
Letting me choose is His gift to me. He LOVES to let me choose.

I don’t QUITE understand this. I still have a hard time letting my kids choose. I have ONE rule when it comes to decorating gingerbread houses, and it’s simply, “Let them do whatever.”
But last night I found myself jumping in, “No frosting tips in the chimney.”
“No licking the roof.”
“Don’t make plans to destroy the house yet, Trent, it isn’t even done being decorated…”
“But MOM…”

I can’t imagine God’s side in watching me make crazy choices, but I hope someday to be more OKAY with the kids making crazy choices without piping in to STOP the crazy before it gets out of hand.
I guess decorating gingerbread houses is good training ground? Because when it comes to kids, candy, and Christmas… there is no stopping the crazy.

Alice surprised me by picking up the frosting bag and trying very neatly (for an almost-two year old) to pipe frosting on the chimney. She knocked a candy cane out of it’s spot.
“Dane it,” she muttered.
Monkey see…

(I spy a frosting beard.)

“Mom, when we smash the houses… we will get a little surprise from the chimmee!”
Trent is seriously more excited about smashing the gingerbread houses than he is about building them. And yes, he’s already checked our closet over to make sure we have enough hammers to go around. This kid does not mess around when it comes to destruction.

Last week, my daughter approached me with one of her many GRAND ideas…
“Mom, I was thinking I could sell hot chocolate and then take the money from my selling and dump it all in those things at Wal-Mart that hold money for the Children in the Hospital.”
She has long been fascinated with these contraptions -not because they’re fancy and swirl your money ’round and ’round but because the money is FOR SICK KIDS. She can’t stand the idea of sick children. She WANTS to help. She’d give everything she had if she could.
“You could,” I replied, “But you don’t have to go through Wal-Mart to do that.”
“What do you mean?” She cocked her head to one side and raised one eyebrow, her mouth showing a gap where she’d just lost a tooth.
“Just what I said… we are going to Phoenix in a couple weeks where there is a hospital JUST for kids! You can take your money, buy gifts, and take it to the kids YOURSELF.”
Her eyes lit up and instantly fell, “But I only have two bucks…”
I told her there were many people who would love to help her with her Christmas Project.
“But we can talk about it tomorrow,” I said, “It’s late… time for bed.” We’d just finished watching a Christmas movie after putting up our tree. I’d told the kids they could sleep next to the tree that night. I cozied up on the couch to keep an eye on them, and truthfully -I wanted to sleep next to the tree as well.
I woke up the next morning to find the living room floor covered in cardboard, duct tape, scissors and brown paper… and a BOX with a hold in the top sitting next to my sleeping daughter. She hadn’t rested until her donation box was made.
The next night, her father found her on her knees. She told him she’d been praying about her project.
A few days before she started working on her Christmas Project, a box had shown up at our door full of “SECRET SANTA” gifts. Lacy was deeply touched (we ALL were!) and immediately wanted to pay it forward. She saved the box our gifts were given in and has decided to use THAT VERY BOX for her project.

(THANK YOU TO OUR SECRET SANTAS!  WE HAVE NO IDEA WHO YOU ARE!)

A few days later, I helped her set up a Go Fund Me account.
“How much money are you hoping to raise?” I asked her, readying myself to type “$150″ or maybe “$500.”
“A THOUSAND,” she didn’t miss a beat -full of confidence.

A thousand it is.

Lacy Gayle is such a giving soul -anytime she had a hint of cash in her possession she immediately wants to give it away. I have a small set of gifts from her: a key chain, hot pink lipstick (“It’s your FAVORITE color, Mom!”)… This Project is so close to her heart. She beams whenever she talks about it, and I’m proud to help her.

I hope Lacy knows whenever she really feels something SHOULD be done, SHE CAN DO IT! I believe in her, and I know this project will come to pass! I’m inspired by her example, and after she’s delivered her Christmas Box, she’s told us her plans to go caroling at the nearby rest home, “because they shouldn’t be alone on Christmas, Mom.”

It’s entirely possible that Lacy Gayle Deets is actually an angel. A toothless angel.

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