Introducing Isaiah
"For a meaning of the name Isaiah, NOBSE Study Bible Name List reads Yahweh Is Salvation, Jones' Dictionary of Old Testament Proper Names has Salvation Of The Lord.
A remarkable feature of the name Isaiah is that it consists of the same two elements as the name Joshua(יהושע). The name Joshua is the Hebrew form of the Greek name Jesus, and most probably the name by which Jesus the Nazarene was known by His contemporaries."
What's in a name? Plenty. When Saul was on the road to Damascus and Jesus turned him around, He also changed his name. To Paul. Why? Saul means "destroyer," and Paul means "builder," which is a fitting thing considering his missions before and after Jesus spoke to him. Before Jesus spoke to him, his mission was to destroy the fledgling church of Christ, and God changed his mission to build the church of Christ. How many times in the Bible did God tell someone to name their child such and such a name? Why would He do that if names were not important? All I know is that when my ex and I prayed about naming this child, it was probably one of the few times we agreed on anything. So his name was Isaiah. At the time, we didn't realize that his name was so close to mine and Jesus' names.
I don't know how I ended up with this child in my life, but here he is. Yes, I can see the circumstances that put him in my life, but, really, it was God's doing. Children are more than just little people we have to teach. They are instruments God uses to teach us, too. The purpose of this post is to introduce everyone to my son, who is the most important person in my life besides God. I've mentioned him here and there but never in much detail. So I want to rectify that. There is simply no way to capture all aspects of this kid, and I really don't know where to start. He's so many things.
My child is not like me. Okay, in some ways he is. But mostly, he is not. An article at The Week talks about introverts parenting an extrovert child. The way I tell myself to understand him is that my chatter is on the inside; his is on the outside. Constantly. From the time he wakes up to the time he falls asleep, he chatters. He even talks in his sleep whole pages worth of words. Sometimes he tells jokes in his sleep and laughs at them. I accept that he is extroverted, but the degree to which he is extroverted is extreme. He's like an extra-extrovert. I'm pretty sure I will never take this kid hunting. It's that impossible for him to be silent. Or fishing, for that matter, because he cannot sit still. Sigh.
I knew it would come up. I dreaded it. His teacher came to us and told us how difficult it is for him to listen sometimes. "He has so much to say, and he's afraid he's going to forget it all," she said. "Still, he needs to let other people have the floor when they're speaking." Yes, he does. It's something we've told him hundreds of times. When other people are talking, he has to listen. He interrupts, blurts things out, interjects, exclaims, and pouts when he's told he has to listen or wait his turn.
Yeah, so he probably has hyperactivity, which is a component of ADHD. It doesn't necessarily mean he has ADHD, though. He is lacking some ADHD symptoms. But, I will say this: he is sometimes exhausting to be around. His high-energy approach to everything is astounding. I wish I had a fraction of his energy. He seems to manufacture it out of thin air. He could be headed for big things someday. I hope so. He certainly has a lot of drive.
Someone recommended I give my son caffeine for his hyperactivity. Stimulants are apparently commonly prescribed to children with ADHD. The idea is that the stimulant will allow them to relax inside because they don't have to self-stimulate. I don't know how that would work for my son, however. Any external stimulation sends him into overdrive. Sugar, for instance, sends him into outer space. I imagine caffeine would do the same. I'm reluctant to try.
He's do, do, do. He's go, go, go. He's all boy all the time. Climb up this mountain? Okay. Tear apart a stump and throw rocks from the top? Okay. Slide down the hill on his butt? Okay. Do it again? Yes, please, and faster and louder than before. He doesn't know the word "danger." I've told him countless times to please step away from the edge. Does he want to give me a heart attack? At home, keeping pace with him is impossible. I can only spectate. But he does not allow idle spectators in his life. He has to draw you into his maelstrom. When he was little, I called him a whirling dervish. I think that label still applies.
He has befriended many cluster flies (we call them Eugene and Eugenia) in my apartment. He has built homes (and tombs) for them with Legos. He has taped them to the floor in the hallway. Actually, tape is his favorite thing. He's dispensed with two of my dispensers so far. There are about 100 different things taped up in my tiny apartment and in the hallway. When they fall down, I put them in a plastic bag and hope he doesn't notice. He draws maps every day at his daycare. He brings them home. I've collected many because he produces two or three a day. Each one has at least one camel that looks like it has caterpillar feet. And I can't help but laugh at his depictions of his mom and dad. Do I really look like that?
On top of his creative pursuits, he's also learning how to read. He does well with sight-reading. I don't know that he's sounding words out yet. But, it's pretty cool when we're driving along and he reads signs to me. And he can read whole paragraphs in his books when we read at night, which is pretty cool. It has opened up a whole new, amazing world. Seeing this kid who was once confined to a hospital NICU for nearly a month, who was given caffeine so his lungs would develop completely, who scared his mom and dad so many times because he couldn't keep food in his stomach, who endlessly troubled his parents by his endless colicky crying and refusal to take naps, who had significant delays (started walking at 18 months, was potty-trained at 3 years) making significant progress with something as advanced as reading really makes my heart swell. Maybe he is a little like me after all. In less than five and a half years, he's been through so much.
Yes, he is maddeningly like his mother at times. Okay, a lot of the time. He is oppositional, selfish, defiant, stubborn, says mean things and smarts off, repeatedly disobeys, etc. There are times I throw my hands up and walk away because I am so angry I can't do or say anything. If I saw a kid interact with an adult the way he interacts with me, I would say something isn't right there. How many times do I have to correct him before it clicks? Parenting is hard. It's a work in progress for both of us. So many times I've gotten down on my knees because I simply don't have the answers. But God does.
It's humbling to know God gave this child to me. He entrusted him to me and his mother. He knew we don't have what it takes to raise him. But He knew we would seek His face for answers. So this curveball of a kid is the kind of kid I never would have imagined having to raise, but I'm doing it somehow. It has given me a different perspective on my relationship with my Heavenly Father. Maybe that's the point. It is a constant reminder of my relationship with God. It shows me myself, too. Am I really that rebellious and whiny? Am I that scared? Am I defiant? Do I say mean things to Him? Do I make Him wonder why He brought me into this world? Not all kids are like my kid, I keep telling myself. I was a sweet child and very obedient. So how did I end up with a kid like this? Am I not doing my job? Possibly.
Parenting is the hardest job I've ever had. I have to be ever vigilant. I have to be protective yet allow him to grow. I have to discipline in love when I'm simmering with anger. I have to laugh at the silly things he says one minute and reprimand him the next minute for something else he said. I'm sometimes forced to walk at a slower pace, and sometimes I simply cannot keep up with him. Sometimes I wonder if he has a learning disability. Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing anything right at all. Other days are tranquil and calm and we get along swimmingly. Some days nothing goes right and he fights me all day. Only when night falls and he is asleep in his bed can I sink into my loveseat and breathe deep breaths. Sometimes he is one of the kindest and most generous souls I've known. He brings me things all the time — stuff he's made, food, presents, things to "remember him by" — because he wants to give. When he goes to his daycare in the morning, the kids there rush to give him hugs. They love having him there. It's touching. And confusing. How can he be all these things? All those years I knew I was missing out by not having children. It seems I got ten kids in one with this one. God, why did you do this to me?
Why? Maybe so I would seek Him. So I would learn something I can't learn any other way. There is nothing more humbling than watching something happen to your child and not being able to do anything about it. I don't know. All I can do is seek God and ask what I should do. What am I doing wrong? Please show me. I don't want to live in error. I want the truth above all else.
Maybe he will grow out of it. Maybe it will kick in sometime. He has lamented to me that he sometimes feels stupid because he makes the same mistakes over and over again. I tell him God doesn't say he's stupid. And he's not stupid. But I know something isn't right. So I will keep praying. This is the most important thing in my life right now. So I will direct all my strength and prayers at it. There are answers. The answer may be to let him make mistakes and learn that way if he won't listen to me. I would rather he do things the easy way (obeying me) instead of the hard way (getting his butt kicked by the real world), but we all learn different ways. Maybe he's more like me than I thought because that's how I lived most of my life. God surely shook His head and wondered why I didn't just come back to Him and have an easier life instead of breaking myself doing bad things. Selah.
Well, the past cannot be changed. All I can do is learn and try to teach my son what I have learned. And what I have learned is this: there is nothing more important in this world than doing the will of God. Get out of your own way and do that. Let God take care of the rest. He can do it better than you can. Maybe my son just needs more scaffolding (a helping hand, a hint, a clue, some direction) for a while. But he always tells me, "I can do it myself." Okay, kid, knock yourself out.
I am forever amazed by this little man God put in my life. From the moment he came into my life, I've consistently taken his care and upbringing to God. I can't do this alone. At times, his mother fought me about how to raise him. I certainly can't raise him like that. Soon this little man will enter kindergarten, and then it's off to the races. There is no looking back. He'll never be this small again. He'll never be this receptive again. He'll never be this enthralled by books and sunsets and dead fish on the lakeshore. As I slow down, he speeds up. As I grow old, he grows up. Soon, he will tower over me. He's already a big boy for his age. God, give me strength and wisdom to raise this child. I need it.
I'm more prayerful now than at any other time in my life. I know my time is running out. I'm done screwing around. What I have left is God's. And so many times when I had no more thoughts or ideas or prayers, I simply gave my son to God. In His hands he is safe. If I teach my son to have a relationship with his Lord and Savior, then I will consider myself successful. But even that is God's doing.
My son is a swirling enigma. Describing him is like describing a scene that is forever changing. I hope I've gotten some things right. Tomorrow might find me speechless and starting over, unable to grasp what new thing he's become. All I know is I love him and want the best for him. Putting in the hard work of parenting will hopefully pay off later. For both of us.
Thank you for following along and God bless.
What's in a name? Plenty. When Saul was on the road to Damascus and Jesus turned him around, He also changed his name. To Paul. Why? Saul means "destroyer," and Paul means "builder," which is a fitting thing considering his missions before and after Jesus spoke to him. Before Jesus spoke to him, his mission was to destroy the fledgling church of Christ, and God changed his mission to build the church of Christ. How many times in the Bible did God tell someone to name their child such and such a name? Why would He do that if names were not important? All I know is that when my ex and I prayed about naming this child, it was probably one of the few times we agreed on anything. So his name was Isaiah. At the time, we didn't realize that his name was so close to mine and Jesus' names.
I don't know how I ended up with this child in my life, but here he is. Yes, I can see the circumstances that put him in my life, but, really, it was God's doing. Children are more than just little people we have to teach. They are instruments God uses to teach us, too. The purpose of this post is to introduce everyone to my son, who is the most important person in my life besides God. I've mentioned him here and there but never in much detail. So I want to rectify that. There is simply no way to capture all aspects of this kid, and I really don't know where to start. He's so many things.
My child is not like me. Okay, in some ways he is. But mostly, he is not. An article at The Week talks about introverts parenting an extrovert child. The way I tell myself to understand him is that my chatter is on the inside; his is on the outside. Constantly. From the time he wakes up to the time he falls asleep, he chatters. He even talks in his sleep whole pages worth of words. Sometimes he tells jokes in his sleep and laughs at them. I accept that he is extroverted, but the degree to which he is extroverted is extreme. He's like an extra-extrovert. I'm pretty sure I will never take this kid hunting. It's that impossible for him to be silent. Or fishing, for that matter, because he cannot sit still. Sigh.
I knew it would come up. I dreaded it. His teacher came to us and told us how difficult it is for him to listen sometimes. "He has so much to say, and he's afraid he's going to forget it all," she said. "Still, he needs to let other people have the floor when they're speaking." Yes, he does. It's something we've told him hundreds of times. When other people are talking, he has to listen. He interrupts, blurts things out, interjects, exclaims, and pouts when he's told he has to listen or wait his turn.
Yeah, so he probably has hyperactivity, which is a component of ADHD. It doesn't necessarily mean he has ADHD, though. He is lacking some ADHD symptoms. But, I will say this: he is sometimes exhausting to be around. His high-energy approach to everything is astounding. I wish I had a fraction of his energy. He seems to manufacture it out of thin air. He could be headed for big things someday. I hope so. He certainly has a lot of drive.
 |
| My son enjoying a sucker. Take that, sucker. |
Someone recommended I give my son caffeine for his hyperactivity. Stimulants are apparently commonly prescribed to children with ADHD. The idea is that the stimulant will allow them to relax inside because they don't have to self-stimulate. I don't know how that would work for my son, however. Any external stimulation sends him into overdrive. Sugar, for instance, sends him into outer space. I imagine caffeine would do the same. I'm reluctant to try.
He's do, do, do. He's go, go, go. He's all boy all the time. Climb up this mountain? Okay. Tear apart a stump and throw rocks from the top? Okay. Slide down the hill on his butt? Okay. Do it again? Yes, please, and faster and louder than before. He doesn't know the word "danger." I've told him countless times to please step away from the edge. Does he want to give me a heart attack? At home, keeping pace with him is impossible. I can only spectate. But he does not allow idle spectators in his life. He has to draw you into his maelstrom. When he was little, I called him a whirling dervish. I think that label still applies.
He has befriended many cluster flies (we call them Eugene and Eugenia) in my apartment. He has built homes (and tombs) for them with Legos. He has taped them to the floor in the hallway. Actually, tape is his favorite thing. He's dispensed with two of my dispensers so far. There are about 100 different things taped up in my tiny apartment and in the hallway. When they fall down, I put them in a plastic bag and hope he doesn't notice. He draws maps every day at his daycare. He brings them home. I've collected many because he produces two or three a day. Each one has at least one camel that looks like it has caterpillar feet. And I can't help but laugh at his depictions of his mom and dad. Do I really look like that?
On top of his creative pursuits, he's also learning how to read. He does well with sight-reading. I don't know that he's sounding words out yet. But, it's pretty cool when we're driving along and he reads signs to me. And he can read whole paragraphs in his books when we read at night, which is pretty cool. It has opened up a whole new, amazing world. Seeing this kid who was once confined to a hospital NICU for nearly a month, who was given caffeine so his lungs would develop completely, who scared his mom and dad so many times because he couldn't keep food in his stomach, who endlessly troubled his parents by his endless colicky crying and refusal to take naps, who had significant delays (started walking at 18 months, was potty-trained at 3 years) making significant progress with something as advanced as reading really makes my heart swell. Maybe he is a little like me after all. In less than five and a half years, he's been through so much.
Yes, he is maddeningly like his mother at times. Okay, a lot of the time. He is oppositional, selfish, defiant, stubborn, says mean things and smarts off, repeatedly disobeys, etc. There are times I throw my hands up and walk away because I am so angry I can't do or say anything. If I saw a kid interact with an adult the way he interacts with me, I would say something isn't right there. How many times do I have to correct him before it clicks? Parenting is hard. It's a work in progress for both of us. So many times I've gotten down on my knees because I simply don't have the answers. But God does.
It's humbling to know God gave this child to me. He entrusted him to me and his mother. He knew we don't have what it takes to raise him. But He knew we would seek His face for answers. So this curveball of a kid is the kind of kid I never would have imagined having to raise, but I'm doing it somehow. It has given me a different perspective on my relationship with my Heavenly Father. Maybe that's the point. It is a constant reminder of my relationship with God. It shows me myself, too. Am I really that rebellious and whiny? Am I that scared? Am I defiant? Do I say mean things to Him? Do I make Him wonder why He brought me into this world? Not all kids are like my kid, I keep telling myself. I was a sweet child and very obedient. So how did I end up with a kid like this? Am I not doing my job? Possibly.
 |
| A rare semi-calm moment at home. |
Parenting is the hardest job I've ever had. I have to be ever vigilant. I have to be protective yet allow him to grow. I have to discipline in love when I'm simmering with anger. I have to laugh at the silly things he says one minute and reprimand him the next minute for something else he said. I'm sometimes forced to walk at a slower pace, and sometimes I simply cannot keep up with him. Sometimes I wonder if he has a learning disability. Sometimes I wonder if I'm doing anything right at all. Other days are tranquil and calm and we get along swimmingly. Some days nothing goes right and he fights me all day. Only when night falls and he is asleep in his bed can I sink into my loveseat and breathe deep breaths. Sometimes he is one of the kindest and most generous souls I've known. He brings me things all the time — stuff he's made, food, presents, things to "remember him by" — because he wants to give. When he goes to his daycare in the morning, the kids there rush to give him hugs. They love having him there. It's touching. And confusing. How can he be all these things? All those years I knew I was missing out by not having children. It seems I got ten kids in one with this one. God, why did you do this to me?
Why? Maybe so I would seek Him. So I would learn something I can't learn any other way. There is nothing more humbling than watching something happen to your child and not being able to do anything about it. I don't know. All I can do is seek God and ask what I should do. What am I doing wrong? Please show me. I don't want to live in error. I want the truth above all else.
Maybe he will grow out of it. Maybe it will kick in sometime. He has lamented to me that he sometimes feels stupid because he makes the same mistakes over and over again. I tell him God doesn't say he's stupid. And he's not stupid. But I know something isn't right. So I will keep praying. This is the most important thing in my life right now. So I will direct all my strength and prayers at it. There are answers. The answer may be to let him make mistakes and learn that way if he won't listen to me. I would rather he do things the easy way (obeying me) instead of the hard way (getting his butt kicked by the real world), but we all learn different ways. Maybe he's more like me than I thought because that's how I lived most of my life. God surely shook His head and wondered why I didn't just come back to Him and have an easier life instead of breaking myself doing bad things. Selah.
Well, the past cannot be changed. All I can do is learn and try to teach my son what I have learned. And what I have learned is this: there is nothing more important in this world than doing the will of God. Get out of your own way and do that. Let God take care of the rest. He can do it better than you can. Maybe my son just needs more scaffolding (a helping hand, a hint, a clue, some direction) for a while. But he always tells me, "I can do it myself." Okay, kid, knock yourself out.
I am forever amazed by this little man God put in my life. From the moment he came into my life, I've consistently taken his care and upbringing to God. I can't do this alone. At times, his mother fought me about how to raise him. I certainly can't raise him like that. Soon this little man will enter kindergarten, and then it's off to the races. There is no looking back. He'll never be this small again. He'll never be this receptive again. He'll never be this enthralled by books and sunsets and dead fish on the lakeshore. As I slow down, he speeds up. As I grow old, he grows up. Soon, he will tower over me. He's already a big boy for his age. God, give me strength and wisdom to raise this child. I need it.
I'm more prayerful now than at any other time in my life. I know my time is running out. I'm done screwing around. What I have left is God's. And so many times when I had no more thoughts or ideas or prayers, I simply gave my son to God. In His hands he is safe. If I teach my son to have a relationship with his Lord and Savior, then I will consider myself successful. But even that is God's doing.
My son is a swirling enigma. Describing him is like describing a scene that is forever changing. I hope I've gotten some things right. Tomorrow might find me speechless and starting over, unable to grasp what new thing he's become. All I know is I love him and want the best for him. Putting in the hard work of parenting will hopefully pay off later. For both of us.
Thank you for following along and God bless.
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