Addie is in Norfolk this week. She seems to believe that 'Norfolk' is the name of our house. So that when we pull into the driveway she squeals, 'we are at Norfolk!' Which makes me smile.

Lots of things she does makes me smile. She asked me to buy her some new sunglasses. And then she puts them on so that she can 'see better'. She watches me hunt for my glasses so that I can see better and that must be what women do. She asked me to take a nap with her. And then patted the blanket on me so that I would be warm and comfortable. She offers me some of her snacks.

Now Addie is only two but, man! has she been studying how to be a person. She talks and reasons and argues with the best of us. She watches our postures and reactions and then practices them until she gets them down just right. The other day we told her that we didn't have the cartoon she wanted to see. 'Shoot!' she said.

But what has impacted me enough to hunt down words, is that she has been treated with such respect and affection in her life. With consistency and creativity. So she has become practiced at doing the same. She has had people be generous and open hearted with her so she shares freely. (well, Nora might disagree on that). She hears good manners so knows the polite responses. Yesterday the checker at HyVee gave her a blue dumdum which prompted a quick thank you. We were walking away when she ran back to tell her another thank you, because she really really likes blue suckers.

Addie trusts me because she has never been given a reason not to trust. And that makes the parenting work worth it.

Living in Canaan

It struck me the other day that Canaan, that place that was God's provision for His people, actually existed. It wasn't allegorical. It wasn't figurative. People were born, lived and died there.

And when I look up in my own Canaan, I see giants. They have names and addresses. God could choose to eliminate all alarming threats from my Canaan. But if He doesn't....then what.

What if God decides to keep me in the Valley of the Shadow. What if those giants camp out next door, sharpening their weaver-beam sized spears within sight of my house? What does that say about my God and His intentions for my life?

Probably lots and lots of things. But what He reassured me about yesterday is that He satisfies. He gives peace. He is so pleasant to meditate on. He is a good and kind Savior. He exposes in this uneasy proximity to giant weapons (gulp, aimed at me) that I need a Savior.

A good friend just lost her mother to cancer and it made me hear this line from 'Come Thou Fount' in a new way: " Come my Lord, no longer tell me. Take my ransomed soul away." It made me realize that there will be times in Canaan or in the Valley of the Shadow that I may be pressed to pray the same. And if God answers with a 'no', then I will discover even more truly that He satisfies, He gives peace. He is that kind of God