The Newborn King

 Enjoy a repost from December 2016...

This is my new grand niece, Amelia Josephine, born two just two weeks before this picture was taken.  I had the privilege of spending her very first Christmas with her along with lots of extended family.  We spent most of our holiday time "ooing" and "ahhing" over her tiny perfection and watching her 22-month-old brother do cute things.

As I held little Amelia in my arms, I was struck by the reality—THE REALITY-- that Christ was born to us as a baby--A BABY!  At this time of year, we read and sing of this fact often;

"You will find a baby wrapped snugly in strips of cloth, lying in a manger." 

   "The little Lord Jesus lay down His sweet head." 

"Holy infant so tender and mild" 

 "Glory to the newborn King"

But do we truly understand what Christ did for us by becoming utterly helpless?  Do we comprehend how He left His place in Heaven and confined Himself in skin?  Do we grasp how our most powerful God allowed Himself to sleep silently in an animal trough?  Can we truly fathom that the same voice that created the entire universe now limited Himself to a feeble cry?

It’s absurd, really.  A limitless, ageless God chose to intersect time and space and become a limited, time-bound man; and not just a man, a baby; tiny, helpless, poor.

So why did He do it?  God saw His children needed Him.  Yet, because of their sins, there was no way they could get to Him.  So He became one of them, and He lived among them to save them and bring them close again.  Not only did He live with them; He loved them; and He died for them…and in their place.  And then He rose again—conquering death, their greatest foe. 

He chose to enter the world in a way that none expected; not as a king; wearing extravagant robes and sitting on a royal throne, but as a baby; swaddled with strips of tattered cloth and lying in a hay-filled manger.  Our mighty, strong, omniscient God chose to come to us in the most unthinkable form, wrapped in skin and humility; a tiny newborn babe.

Just like little Amelia.  Just for little Amelia.  And just for you too.

What child is this, who, laid to rest,
On Mary's lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet,
While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King,
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing:
Haste, haste to bring him laud,
The babe, the son of Mary.

She will give birth to a son, and you are to give him the name Jesus, because he will save his people from their sins.

~Matthew 1:21

Red Bird Devotions #19

Dangerous Amnesia 
(repost from 3/22/10)

“Sometimes we forget love”.

When I saw this posted as my son’s Facebook status, it made contemplate my life. I don’t ever forget love, do I?

I do.

Sometimes, when I am rushed and burdened and trying to complete the last lines of a well-thought out essay, and my precious daughter comes to talk to me, to give me a kiss good-night, I kiss her hurriedly—really wishing her already to bed—really only caring about completing my agenda; Then, I forget love.

When my teenage son is grumpy because he is over-homeworked, over-exerted and under-slept, and all I can do is criticize him because of his forgetfulness or his lack of joy; Then, I forget love.

When my husband isn’t like me and I judge him for the way he thinks or acts or perceives life in general, and not only do I think it, but I tell him I think it; Then, I forget love.

When I so desire someone to know Christ, and I give them a Bible and I talk to them about God and I tell them about Grace, but I don’t invite them to be a part of my life, nor do I get involved in their life; Then, I forget love.

When I pray to God for me and my family and my stuff, but I never ask God about Himself or about His purposes or about His Joy, and I never see beyond myself to His Majesty; Then, I forget love.

When I forget that it was Jesus who died to take my place—on a cross, with nails and blood and pain and with all the horrors of my sin heaped upon his broken body; Then, I forget love.

O Father God, keep reminding, keep reminding. I don’t want to forget. To Love.

“Therefore, as God’s chosen people, holy and dearly loved, clothe yourselves with compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness and patience. Bear with each other and forgive whatever grievances you may have against one another. Forgive as the Lord forgave you. And over all these virtues put on love, which binds them all together in perfect unity.”

Colossians 3:12-14

10 Easy Steps to Personally Prepare for Your Daughter’s Upcoming Wedding

Since our youngest daughter gets married in two days (!) I thought y’all might benefit from a quick checklist on what needs to be accomplished when YOUR daughter gets married. Please keep in mind that it has been an incredibly busy semester here at the Haverkamp home place, so most of these suggestions have just been completed in the two weeks prior to the ceremony.

1.    Purchase Dress.

I pretty much deplore shopping and do lots of clothes shopping online.  A few months ago, I saw a dress that seemed appropriate, ordered it (with the sandals the model was wearing) and received it in the mail within a week.  Surprisingly, the very sparkly, sequined, and glittery dress fit relatively well, and I decided to keep it (and the sandals) for the upcoming event even though I normally am not very fancy.  

2.  Make Sure Dress Fits.

Even though the dress fit well when it arrived, I became increasingly paranoid that it soon would not fit if I kept putting large amounts of heavy whipping cream (left over from making the frosting for my granddaughter’s birthday cupcakes--which I also ate) in my coffee every morning, so on Sunday (three days before writing this), I stopped eating food and didn’t start again until Tuesday afternoon.  I was so hungry by Tuesday night that I ate one of the aforementioned cupcakes--with ice cream.  For some reason, the dress is not much looser.

3.  Research Spanx Online.

Since the whole fasting thing backfired, I seriously looked at all of my “fat-holding-in” options on Amazon instead of just going to my local department store lingerie section to ascertain the advantages of these very tight undergarments.  I was too embarrassed to order them (since the confirmation email goes to my husband who would text me a screenshot of the order with a “Did you order this?”) so I took the more acceptable road of control top panty hose that made big promises: “Built-in Shaper Short tones and flattens the tummy.”

4.  Try out Shaper Shorts with Glitter Dress While Home Alone.

I was determined to make the dress look fantastic even if it meant I had to suck in my gut while wearing the Shaper Shorts, so I carefully pulled them up to my waist and stepped into the full-length glitter dress.  The dress has a zipper from the derriere to the neck, and normally, I could probably finagle this process even though it would require some nimble gymnastic maneuvers.  However, presently, I have a condition called “frozen shoulder” on my left side and my arm does not extend all the way up, nor does it stretch behind my back. Temporarily forgetting my disability, I used my right arm to zip up the dress behind my back as far as I could then I reached over my shoulder with the same arm and pulled on the zipper from the top.  It was not a graceful or easy process, but I was successful in closing the entire zipper.  And I had to admit, the Shaper Shorts were doing their job and I looked darn good in that fancy garment. 

5.  Take Off Glitter Dress Without Passing Out.

After putting my sandals on with the glitter dress and admiring my reflection in the full-length mirror, I decided I needed to switch out the bra I was wearing so the straps wouldn’t show on either side.  So, I reached back with my one good arm and attempted to pull the zipper down as far as possible which ended up not being very far at all.  I slithered around trying to make the dress ride a little higher on my waist so the zipper would be accessible, but the Shaper Shorts were being held in place by little rubber strips around my thighs and they were keeping my muffin top AND the dress firmly in place.  I bent over forward--as if the motion might enable the zipper to unzip--and then I did a little hula hoop movement to see if I could get the zipper to go to the side. Nothing worked.  Since Brent was gone out of town for the night, I envisioned myself preparing for bed and climbing in between the sheets--all while wearing the form-fitting glitter dress--and trying to sleep.  I’m serious, folks, I couldn’t get the dress off!  I thought about calling 911 but then decided that would be bad judgment, so I chose to pray and ask God to release me from my bondage.  God, probably laughing in his own God-like way, soon smiled upon my predicament, and I was able to scoot the dress up ever so slightly on my waist so that my good arm could grasp the end of the zipper pull from the bottom and tug.  Viola!  The zipper was loosed!  As I stepped out of it, and over the massive pile of glitter on the floor below, (Really!  I had to get a broom and dustpan to clean it up!) I sat down on the cool tile of the bathroom floor in my Shaper Shorts and caught my breath. When I was fully oxygenated, I did try the dress on with another bra, but I only clasped the top loop of the dress and did not zip it all the way up.

6.  Get Spray Tan So that Dress is Not the Same Color as Your Skin.

Okay all of you professional spray tanners out there, I had never had a spray tan before and I was a little anxious that I might exit looking like Donald Trump striped and orange-y. However, now it is six hours post-spray and I am looking like I sat at a track meet on a sunny afternoon even though it has rained here for the last 110 days.  When I first entered the tanning place, I interrogated the girl at the front desk and told her in no uncertain manner that I would hold her responsible if I came out freakishly streaky.  She assured me that I would look fantastic and that I should choose the medium blend (or maybe that was coffee) and then “seal” it with the clear coat (or maybe that was the car wash) so it would continually darken for the next several hours.  I dumbly agreed to this experiment and assured her I was over 13 and signed away my rights with my fingerprint and a credit card.  She gave me a teeny tiny package of “toner” (sounds like something for my printer) that she said would make my skin’s Ph be completely balanced--whatever that means--and that I should smear it all over my face and body before I entered “the chamber.”  Then, she led me into room 13 (isn’t that an unlucky number?) and showed me how to put on the little cap so my hair wouldn’t turn colors, how to spread the “neutralizer” on my hands after smearing the “toner” all over so my palms wouldn’t turn orange, and how to contort my body into four different poses so that I could “tan evenly”.  When she walked out and I had disrobed, smeared the lotion on, then taken it off my hands, and put the little cap on my head, I took a deep breath, tried to still my beating heart, and stepped into “the chamber”.  While some unknown voice in the speaker told me to stand in position “1”, I closed my eyes and held my breath until I felt a little shower of moisture hit my freezing cold self.  Then the voice told me to turn around, and I felt the cold little shower again.  When she told me to take position “2”, I got nervous because I couldn’t open my eyes to look at the picture on the side of the chamber for fear I would tan my eyeballs, so I just made myself look like I was impersonating king Tut by standing in a type of Egyptian pose--first to the right--and then after the little shower thing stopped--again to the left.  When the unknown voice loudly announced through the speaker that the tanning portion was done, I breathed in a long inhale of relief because I had survived and was now in the drying portion of the protocol--kind of like when you drive through the dryer vents very slowly at the end of your carwash--except just with your skin and no car.   I have yet to try on the glitter dress again--even though Brent is home to assist with zippering--to see if my skin is now darker than my dress.

7.  Use Crest White Strips to Make Your Coffee-Stained Teeth Whiter and Your Spray Tan Look Darker.

Okay, y’all, I know I am supposed to start the whole white-strip routine about two weeks or so before the event, but I have been incredibly busy and neglected that prep.  So, I started the teeth-whitening process yesterday (4 days before the wedding day) and have been wearing those puppies every chance I get.  If I seem to be slurring my words a bit when you talk to me on the phone, I am either wearing them or I am drinking coffee (between white strip rounds) that seems super hot now because my teeth are so sensitive.  But, my oh my, those pearly whites are going to make my fake tan look even tanner!

8.  Buy Press-On Nails So You Don’t Have to Waste Money On A Real Manicure.

Unlike much of the female population in the US, I do not enjoy getting a manicure.  First of all, I have pretty decent nails and they seem to get brittle and broken when I get them painted at a salon.  Secondly, when I do get my nails done for a special occasion such as a wedding, it lasts only about a day or so before it starts chipping away and I start crying because I spent so much money on the manicure.  So, to solve this unsatisfying conundrum, I checked out the fake nail options at Target and found a package of 35 self-adhesive nails for $4.99! I peeled off the clear backing on each little plastic piece and pressed those shiny french-tipped nails on my actual real-life fingernails!  They looked great and I thought I was a clever genius until I tried to open some Tupperware and found three of them laying on the kitchen counter.  I tried to re-attach them-- to no avail-- and then decided that I felt like a counterfeit wearing plastic fingernails and ripped the rest of them off of my hand disgustedly.  The once-ingenious manicure replacement items are now in the garbage. And I need to make an appointment with a real-life cosmetologist.

9.  Make Hair Appointment at a Place Called Groovy Katz.

Listen, y’all, I have difficult hair and I don’t trust myself to make it look good so I decided to find a salon in the Iowa City area--where the wedding is taking place--so I could have a good hair day when my daughter gets married.  First, I called the salons with names like Finesse, or Buzz, or Zen--all cool and chic-sounding--but found no one with openings on the day I needed them.  Then I called a place called Groovy Katz and they told me that I could get an appointment with them on Saturday morning.  I am hoping that the stylists there are NOT wearing little headbands with cat ears and that I will exit their doors looking purr-fectly stunning.

10. Enjoy the Very Special Day!

Now that I have all the important things done, I can focus on other things, like how to display 45 dozen donuts attractively on a table.  I can also think about how to decorate the very dark and industrial-looking auditorium with lights, eucalyptus and lots of imagination.  And I can think about how bittersweet I will feel as I see my sweet daughter walking down the aisle with her father to marry a wonderful man and begin an exciting new chapter of her life.  I can ruminate on all of these things as my heart anticipates the overwhelming joy that will bubble up as I praise God for all the lavish blessings in my wonderful life!

A Very Long Walk in May, chapter 2

May 15, 2017  Our first day! So much mud. Wonder how we will get clean again. Lots of elevation, but the hiking poles helped.  Got to our campsite at 5:45 pm.  Jet is being a good dog and actually got tired!!  Hard but successful day.  I am not scared or worried.  Beautiful, sunny and warm today.  

Tess and I happily starting our 3rd day...notice Tess decided to wear shorts.

Days of Rain

It started raining on day two and didn’t stop completely until day sixteen. Yep, you read that right.  With nighttime temps in the thirties, and sometimes only mid-forties during the day, we had to be extra careful to not succumb to hypothermia; carefully layering on all of our clothes and lining our packs with plastic so that our very valuable 15 degree sleeping bags and tent would stay dry.  If we hadn’t been able to, daily, hop into our warm bags after setting up our tent in driving rain, we would have faced actual freezing…of our skin, our blood, and our minds.

May 17, 2017   Day 3.  We have seen no people or any sign of human existence for three days.  It is very weird.  We had a serious talk about the possibility of an apocalypse.  We have also had no cell service for the entire time.  Today’s trails were flatter than yesterday but so many blow-downs that I felt like I was in an extreme adventure race.  It also started raining at 1 pm and never stopped.  It is very cold.  Physically, I am doing well but am exceptionally dirty and stinky.  The last few days of rain have put a damper on fun and bathing.

Nights of Rain

We endured a driving rainstorm with gale force winds on our third night out.  We felt the temperature drop and the storm rising in late afternoon (unluckily, Tess had chosen that day to wear her only pair of shorts) when we were still two miles away from our chosen campsite. As the pelting rain stung our faces, we hiked fast and hard, constantly scanning the environment for anything that could serve as a shelter. Nothing. Earlier, we had seen on the map, something that indicated that we might encounter an outhouse on the trail--a rare luxury--and a viable, albeit tiny, shelter. We never found it. When we finally arrived at the campsite, we quickly created a little shelter for our dog, Jet, out of hiking poles and a big black garbage bag; he refused to lay under it, and instead, stood bewildered in the rain as we set up our tent in record time.  Feeling sorry for ourselves—and him—we let the drenched and pitiful creature in our dry tent and covered his shivering body with more garbage bags while we snuggled down deep in our sleeping bags and listened to music on my phone.  We were so discouraged by our circumstances that Tess grabbed a pop tart and I, a big cookie, and called it supper.  Then I pulled out my harmonica and attempted to play a song that would drown out the tornado-like storm without (and our fear within). It didn’t work. It was a very long night.

Onward Christian Soldiers

The next morning we lay awake and listened to the unceasing rain as we made a pact to leave by 8 am, rain or shine (a pretty measly pact considering we had only had shine for a few hours on our first day.)  Our deadline came.  The rain continued.  It was incredibly hard to get out of our warm sleeping bags, put on wet clothes, go into the wet weather and fold up our wet tent while our wet dog stood watching.  But we did.  And it was miserable.  No breakfast for us on day 4.  This was not what we had planned, and our spirits were beginning to plummet like the pouring rain.  

We decided to go as fast as we could (so we wouldn’t freeze) and march on out of that wretched wet place.  I told Tess that we had to remind ourselves of the true story; we were out on an adventure together and we were alive and it was good.  God had so far protected us.  We sang every hymn we could remember that morning to help us to think rightly. We needed to be thankful and not discouraged. We covered 12 miles by lunch.  Thereafter, we referred to that time as  “The day that shall never be spoken of.”

May 18, 2017   Day 4.  Last night was really scary with lots of wind and pelting rain. Everything was wet and SO cold.  Thanks God for keeping us safe today.  No supper last night.  No breakfast this morning.  I was super tired and worn out today. Tess is being very patient with me.

12 Observations from my First Month of Empty Nesting

Today marks one month and three days from the day we dropped the last little Haverkamp off at college.  Life is much different than it used to be…and it’s not half bad.  Here’s why:

1. Mornings are slower because I am not trying to clean up any dishes left in the sink or the remnants of lunch-making mania.  They now involve drinking coffee and sitting with my main man on the porch talking and listening to the birds welcoming the day. I love our new morning routine.

2.  Suppers are quiet and kind of pieced-together; we have had lots of soup, sandwiches, quesadillas, and eggs.  If I make an entire roast or something in a 9x13 casserole, we have to eat it forever.  And that’s a long time. 

3.  Speaking of food, I finally went on a real grocery shopping trip last week after Brent said, “Hey, I don’t mean to be critical, but we have nothing in the pantry and only Half and Half in the fridge.”  He was actually wrong since we had tortilla chips and salted almonds in the pantry and a half a bar of dark chocolate in the secret drawer by the fridge.  He was, however, right about the Half and Half.  I mean, since no one is really around anymore, I pretty much just eat those things.  And only those things.  I am a bad eater when I am alone.

4.  We go through lots of Half and Half—in our coffee because it has to be light tan—but not much milk.  I had to pour some milk down the drain yesterday because it was sour.  We even started buying whole milk, thinking that we could use it in the place of Half and Half if we ran out.  Because running out of Half and Half is an emergency.

5.  Our conversations center on either the dog or the Roomba—mostly things like, “Jet tore the drainpipe off of the garage and ate it today” or “Do you know where the Roomba is?  I started it before I went to work so it must be stuck under the bed.”  We are able to talk about these very arcane and boring subjects for an entire mealtime.  I think we are going to have to buy those little note cards with conversation starters on them so we can expand our repertoire.

6.  We see way more movies.  We have gone out to a movie theater THREE times (and we even got popcorn once!) since we have been on our own.  Two of the movies were great, but Brent fell asleep at the third since it was animated and about pets.  I did not fall asleep.

7.  Evenings are uninterrupted and slightly boring.  Which is why we have gone to so many movies.  And out for ice cream.

8.  You know all that time I spent stressed out when I had kids at home because their rooms were disasters and they never made their beds?  Well, those same rooms stay neat and tidy now and the beds are made beautifully.  This is both a happy and a sad thing.  The bathrooms staying clean however, is an entirely happy thing.

9.  I post videos of my dog on Facebook and celebrate his birthday by buying him a toy and letting him play with the old dog food bag. 

10. Brent mows the yard now, and we had to decide who would take the garbage out.  I have 100% of the pet duty and Brent puts salt in the softener.  He has also agreed to cook one day a week, and on Sunday he made eggs with an avocado garnish and a side of salsa.  It was yummy. He had forgotten that he was a great short order chef.

11.  Everywhere we go, we notice other people who are obviously empty-nesters doing the same empty-nesting things as us—kind of like when you are pregnant and you notice all the pregnant women—kind of like that, but with no baby.

12.  We take lots of walks together in the morning--and sometimes at dusk—and we marvel at God’s goodness to us.  He has blessed us richly.  So richly.  Like coffee with lots of Half and Half, except better.