Holy Sheet!

I found a valuable treasure in our linen closet the other day. Old bed sheets. We don’t use them on our bed anymore, but my three-year-old daughter repurposed them (we’re a green, recycling family) for a new cause.

You know the old saying, “one man’s garbage is another toddler’s treasure.”

Turns out old bed sheets are the perfect building material for a kid’s bedroom fort. They are large enough (if they are queen size or larger) to span long distances. And they are light enough (not like grandma’s quilt which is big too but heavy) that they don’t sag too much in the middle, a crucial concern for good fort creation.

Three bedsheets, 15 minutes, two dresser drawers closed on corners, one stereo placed on top to hold an edge, and three pillows for stability later and my daughter no longer had a bedroom but a wild west trading post. Although, she preferred to think of it as a “princess fort”.

It was the perfect place to hide in, play with dolls and pretend to be in a castle.

Turns out, it was also the perfect place for a three-year-old to want to spend the night.

“Daddy, can we have a sleep over in the fort tonight?”

And so, long after Paytyn had been tucked into her sleeping bag and fallen asleep, I crept in to my sleeping bag under the fort to “sleep over” as well.

It was not a comfortable night. Sleeping on the floor when I was three was easy. Now it just makes my whole body hurt. But, I could have dealt with that if it wasn’t for the constant karate kicks that my sleeping daughter hurled my way all night long. Have you ever slept next to a toddler? They literally never stop moving. Even when they sleep.

Sore and exhausted, I woke up the next morning to a bright-eyed girl, her face right up in mine, staring at me from three-inches away.

“Good morning, daddy! We did a sleep over!” she beamed with joy.

That we did. It was just one night. We took the fort down later that morning. But the joy my daughter experienced lasted for weeks.

And in the effort to win my daughter’s heart I hope to have a few more sleepless nights on the floor.

God’s that way, you know.

Sometimes we think of Him as inaccessible or standoffish or too good for the likes of us. In fact, there are many of us who have grown up not liking this God that sits up in His comfortable digs in heaven judging us down here doing our best in this mess of a world.

We’ve assumed the only terms He’s willing to meet us on involve stuffy religious ceremonies and boring church services. Which for many of us has made him seem un-relatable and elitist at best.

But, no matter what you’ve assumed about God or maybe how churches or Christians have portrayed Him to you, Jesus shows us that God is more like a fort-building dad than a cold and distant tyrant.

So the Word (God) became human and made his home among us. He was full of unfailing love and faithfulness. No one has ever seen God. But the unique One (Jesus), who is himself God, is near to the Father’s heart. He has revealed God to us.
(John 1:14,18 NLT)

He made is home among us. The words there literally mean, “he pitched his tent with us.” Or maybe a three-year-old might translate it: “he built a fort and lay down on the hard ground in his sleeping bag too.”

And maybe that’s the best picture of God.

Loyd Family 2011

Maybe we’ve had some assumptions about God that don’t match up to how God has defined himself in the way he actually chooses to act toward us.

The God that Jesus puts on display isn’t too good to experience a sleepless night. He isn’t too holy to break out the old bedsheets and slum it up on the floor.

This God will go to any length to win the hearts of the people he has made. It’s the foundational belief of Jesus’ followers: that God is in fact good, relatable, willing to live with us and do whatever it takes bring us ultimate joy and fulfillment.

In that case, it could be that something other than some old bedsheets need repurposed. Maybe our view of God could use a little retooling too.

Advertisements

Are Long-Nose Genes Recessive?

I think I’m in the 80th percentile of nose length for humans.

Okay, maybe 85 percent . . . I’m definitely helping bring up the average.

Loyd Family 2009

So, you can imagine my excitement as I see my daughter grow up and realize that I think she’s inherited her mother’s genes for that particular part of her facial structure. Either that or my genes have just been diluted with the smaller nose genes of my wife, which has some how diminished the long-nose genes I was contributing. Kind of like going on a long, healthy run and then indulging in a deliciously caloric Chick-Fil-A binge; they just cancel each other out.

Or, Paytyn is adopted. But, if that’s true, I wanna know what that heck that thing was I saw come out in the delivery room!

Anyway, it seems as though my daughter is not inheriting at least one unfortunate part of my physical makeup. Now she just needs to find good teeth, sturdy tendons and a little more height from some other branch in our family tree.

It’s funny the things that we pass onto our kids, isn’t it? I was watching Paytyn laugh and play the other day, her golden curls bouncing in her face and her eyes alight with joy and I could see in her face the beautiful outline of her mom. In other moments I see the slightest resemblance to her Nana (grandma). And, I’m told that she has a certain sarcastic expression that looks like me (figures).

She is made in our likeness.

Paytyn Loyd

She looks like us. But not exactly. Paytyn is a strangely inimitable mixture of my features and the elegant characteristics of my bride. And that’s the thing about “likeness,” it’s not a photocopy. It’s a likeness. She looks like each of us, at various moments, but at the same time she is her own unique recipe of person. Like a blend of coffee that tastes so familiar and yet has traces of flavor you can’t quite place.

So, in the first book of the Bible, the writer records that God made us in His likeness.

“When God created man, he made him in the likeness of God. He created them male and female and blessed them. And when they were created, he called them ‘man.’”
(Genesis 3:1-2)

Created in the “likeness” of God.

Think about that for a moment. Every one of us carries in us some sort of divine imprint or substance. We are made of God-stuff. From day one, we are inherently birth-marked by the beauty and goodness of the Creator. Knowingly or not, we exist and move and breathe with what amounts to the DNA of God that gives us life. It is with God that all our genetic material finds its origin and it is His genes that flow freely through all the family trees of humanity.

Daddy's Monkey Face

Try remembering that next time you feel ordinary. To be human is to truly be more than just a mundane collage of cells, but to be made in the image and likeness of God.

We are not God. He is unique and strange and wonderful. But we are “like” Him. And His icon in us makes every one of us beautiful, exceptional and invaluable.

Now, my worry for Paytyn is not this amazingly divine heritage, but her more earthly one. Because you see, it’s not just that she inherits the “likeness” of God in her genetic makeup, but also the “likeness” of me in many areas of her life and personality. Read the very next verse in Genesis:

“When Adam had lived 130 years, he had a son in his own likeness, in his own image; and he named him Seth.”
(Genesis 3:3)

For better or worse, for long or short noses, we also create our kids in our own image. The things that haunt us, often haunt them. The things that plague us, frequently make them sick too. And the many inadvertent examples we live-out become their learned patterns for life.

Her future is so bright...

You can be sure that Adam already knew this. Because of Adam’s big mistake, his first two sons learn the art of sin and the one kills the other in the first murder in the Bible. Seth, whose name means “appointed” or “compensation,” is born as a “replacement” for the lost son. Talk about a lot of pain and hurt to inherit.

Made in the image of God, but born into the fallen pattern of Adam.

Such a strange mixture of beauty and tragedy we all are. Like an otherwise beautiful and healthy body that is dying from cancer. We are like God. But, we are also like Adam. At least for now.

Often times now, I find myself wondering which Paytyn will inherit from me more. The beautiful goodness and compassion of God? Or the messed up, mistake-driven selfish patterns of me?

You see, I know God is re-making me. Almost as if He is, through Jesus, working to re-write the uncorrupted file of His DNA back into my life. For though I am made in the “likeness” of God, Hebrews states that Jesus is the son who is:

“the radiance of God’s glory and the exact representation (image) of his being.”
(Hebrews 1:3)

Jesus isn’t the “likeness” of God, He is EXACTLY GOD. He is the purest expression of God.

And though he is working to help me unlearn patterns of my selfishness, I still struggle in my paradox; struggle that will inevitably bleed into the inheritance of my daughter. I just hope that Paytyn grows up seeing the incredible progress He is making in me and not just all my mistakes along the way.

Nick - Paytyn - Tania

Though I will try my best, unfortunately for Paytyn, she might have been better off with a long nose than some of those other characteristics I’m sure to pass on.

Somebody asked me the other day, “So does your daughter look more like you or Tania?” And really, I’m not sure. There seems to be a good compliment of us both in her.

I guess until she gets a little older we won’t know for sure which nose she actually inherited. I don’t know which of us she’ll end up looking like more.

But, just between us, I pray she looks a lot more like God than either of us.

.

One More Kisses?

DSC_0216 copy_2

Paytyn Loyd

“One more kisses?”

Laying on her back with her blanket tucked up under her chin and a smirk on her face, my 21-month old daughter confidently asks the question she knows will postpone bedtime.

“One more kisses?”

It happens at the same time each night.  I put her in the jammies with the pink hearts on front, help her brush her teeth, turn on her night light, start her lullaby music, rock her in the chair, read a story and pray with her.  And then, to complete the daily routine, I lay her down in her bed and pile her animals and blanket around her.

All the right people are present.  The old school version of Pooh Bear is there.  So is the fluffy, white bear that I named “Bernard” but Paytyn decided should be called “Meman” instead.   And, of course, the blanket.  Each is an essential member of the bedtime routine.

I kiss her goodnight.  I run my fingers through her hair and tell her I love her and to sleep well (and secretly pray it will be late into the morning).

And as I walk away, knowing she is waiting for just the perfect timing, I reach the bedroom door about to leave and I hear a delicate voice….

“One more kisses?”

[click here to read the rest of this article]

The God Who Cries…

“Tears are a liquid process of lacrimation to clean and lubricate the eyes. The word lacrimation may also be used in a medical or literary sense to refer to crying. Strong emotions, such as sorrow or elation, may lead to crying.”
— Webster Dictionary

Until last week, my daughter, Paytyn, didn’t have the ability to make tears. She would cry and scream, but all without tears. In fact, apparently it takes about a month after birth for a baby’s tear ducts to form completely so that they can shed actual tears.

Before now, I don’t think I had ever thought about life without tears. I just assumed that we were born with that ability right from the beginning. But, when I picked Paytyn up from her crib the other day (she had woken up suddenly and was crying) I noticed what had been absent. Her eyes were wet. I was shocked and asked Tania what was wrong with her. It was then that I learned she was simply learning to make tears.

baby cryingI had heard her cry many times already. But, now for the first time I was seeing her cry. As I held her in my arms that day, I found myself sad. Sad that life eventually had to know tears. Sad that life, which started without even the ability to truly cry, would eventually know so much.

As I held Paytyn, I realized that she would cry many tears in her life. Over parents that just don’t understand. Over skinned knees and pinched fingers. Over cruel comments. Over broken promises. Over relationships with boys and friends and even God.

And how sad that one day she went to sleep without the ability to cry, and woke up (maybe from a nightmare) crying never to stop.

Did you know we cry for several reasons. Basal tears keep our eyes lubricated and functioning properly. Reflex tears are the ones we shed to clear our eyes of a sudden burst of dust or onion vapors. And then there are crying or weeping tears (the kind I saw on Paytyn) that are born of emotional stress, sadness or even gladness.

In fact, crying, emotional tears are so different from the other two that their chemical makeup is not even the same as the other two. There is an entirely different recipe for these tears that we know as crying.

I have cried many tears so far in life. And as I think back on those moments, it make me sad to think that Paytyn will also grow up and know this particular recipe of tears and sadness. No one it seems is immune from tears. Not even God.

John 11:35 says that when Jesus came and found that his close friend had died, he knew the tears of sadness.

In Matthew 23, Jesus goes to a hill and looks and laments over Jerusalem, the city he loves. And it is difficult to read his words written there without seeing the tears of the God who looks on.

In Luke 22, on the night before Jesus is killed, it is recorded that he prayed so hard his sweat fell to the ground like blood. One has wonder what other moisture fell from his eyes in those darkest moments.

In fact, many stories in the Bible are easily read with the perspective of a God who weeps over the dilemma and plight of mankind.

baby crying 2 And so, Jesus was born like Paytyn. And somewhere at about month one, he succumbed to the same humanity as she. And he cried. Maybe nothing is more human. Maybe nothing identifies with the human condition more than a God that would enter a world of tears and shed his own.

So, as I held Paytyn that day, I softly brushed her tears away from her face, knowing that I would do this many times in her life. Knowing, I suppose, that she may do the same for me. But as I did I was reminded of this simple verse that is a promise for a day when finally the tears will cease.

“He will wipe every tear from their eyes, and there will be no more death or sorrow or crying or pain. All these things are gone forever.”
(Revelation 21:4)

I suppose Paytyn will cry many tears in this life to come. And I will wipe away as many as I see. But, eventually, when time is done, One who is greater than I will come and he will pick her up and hold her and wipe away her tears forever.

The tears will be many. But they are numbered.