piano for sale: pictures

This is a totally random post intended for those in my homeschool co-op because, being the proud wife of a techie, I couldn't spend time figuring out how to attach photos to a post on our Yahoo group.

Happy weekending, everyone. :)

pacifier idolatry

"Tomorrow night will be your first night as a REAL big boy!" I explained to Denton enthusiastically. "We're going to get rid of the pacifiers and you can go to sleep on your own, just like Creed does!"

"Okay, Mommy!" he agreed. "I want to be a big boy!"

Bedtime came and I had already removed the pacifiers to the top of the toy shelves. After several mournful attempts to get me to return the pacifiers (tearfully explaining that he didn't want to be a big boy after all; that he really needs the pacifiers; that he doesn't want to do this anymore; that he wants "the cool of the pacifier;" etc.) and several course corrections, he came sobbing to the door again:

"Mommy?"
"What."
"I just have to say one thing."
"What is it?"

(long pause)

"Uh...it's that I just really want my pacifier."
"Denton."
"What..."
"You already told me this and my answer was 'No.' My answer is still 'no' and it will always be 'no.'"
"Ugh! Mommy!! I don't want you to SAY this!!!"
"Close the door and go back to your bed."
"Mommy, I am still sad!"
"I know. You just have to be brave. I'm sorry it's so hard...but you can do it! When you wake up in the morning you won't be sad anymore."

After separating the boys, it only took a few moments for the house to settle into blissful silence--they had both gone to sleep. Little did I know this was because Denton had climbed up his bookcase and acquired the coveted item. When I checked on him before I turned in for the night, there he was--out cold...with a pacifier dangling from his mouth. Mommy had officially lost the battle, but the war was still on.

A couple of days later, I bought a computer game that Denton really wanted. We installed it "together" with great ceremony. Then after we'd filled in his name and prep'd for the first game, I said, "Now we're going to turn it off. But if you can show me that you're a big boy tonight by going to sleep without your pacifier, you can get up in the morning and play this game all by yourself!"

"But I want to play it NOW, Mommy!" he protested.

"I know. But I'm not sure you're big enough to do it yet. You need to show me that you're a big boy tonight and then I'll know you're big enough to play your own computer game."

"Okay, Mommy," he said. And with that, he ran to his room, grabbed his pacifier, and threw it in the bathroom trash can. (I fished it out and disposed of it behind the scenes so he couldn't retrieve it in a weak moment later on.) I braced myself for bedtime, when he would want it back. But bedtime came and went with no resistance, no struggle, and no complaining! He went right to sleep and woke up to a morning of gaming.

What happened?

Denton found something he wanted MORE. The promise of gaming was so motivating that letting go of the pacifier was worth it.

How like Denton I am as I cling to the "fruitless joys" in my life, unwilling to let go of them for more of God. My little boy showed me that when I won't let go of something, it's because I love it most. When I love God more, the pain of letting other things go is overshadowed by my longing for Him. Even the "good" things in my life become chains to spiritual infancy if I become too attached to them. They are substitutions...pacifiers. I often don't recognize my pacifiers as such because they aren't always tangible things. But they are always rooted in my desire to soothe myself rather than yielding to God and trusting Him for peace. Release and obedience is an act of worship; a declaration that He is sweeter to me than any other thing.

Your love is sweeter than all pleasure
Your love is richer than all treasure
Your love is better than all fruitless joys
You are better

None compare to You
With my heart and mind and soul
I'll chase You

(from "You Are Better" by Michael Bleeker and Steve Miller 2004)