Every single year, I ask my kids what Christmas is really about, and they give me the correct answer, so we go on, saying we know what Christmas is all about, but doing what Christmas is only about in a way that has been twisted from its purpose so drastically that it's barley recognizable. (if you happen to be reading this blog and you are not a Christian, Welcome!, yes, I do know the pagan origins of the holiday, for the purposes of this post, I am talking about it's significance as relates to Jesus Christ, and what gives it true meaning for those of us who are followers of Jesus). Yeah, we usually do a little donating, but by and large this goes unnoticed by our children except as maybe a fun side shopping trip for our "adopted family" or whatever, but for the most part, sacrifice plays a much smaller roll than pretty dresses, toy catalogs, and a fancy tree. So this year we had a family meeting wherein I told the girls that we are going to be brainstorming some ways to show Jesus' love to people, since this is after all, what Christmas is all about. We came up with a few, and a prayer that God would show us needs that we could meet. All in all, the girls went away with a feeling that they would be making some fun crafts for the elderly, and mom and dad would be donating as usual.
Fast forward to a few nights later when we were discussing gift ideas. Morgan informed me that what she wanted for Christmas was the Frozen karaoke machine, you know, so that she can amplify her "Let it Go" vocals, so that no matter where in the house you may be, you can be sure to be able to enjoy them. Now truly, I want to hear "Let it Go" belted in 6 year old glory a few more million times, I do, but as I told my wee Elsa, this year, we are doing one book, one clothing item, and one toy (a toy with about half the budget of the Karaoke machine), so that we have the money left over to fund our list. Maybe we could pick out coats and donate them to the kids at the shelter or somewhere. Less plastic junk cluttering up my house, and more Jesus, Win, win! If it would have been possible, I would have received a lethal ice shard to the vital organs. I told her that a six year old with a generous spirit would be likely to receive said karaoke machine for their birthday in January, whereas a 6 ear old who wanted someone else to freeze their buns so they could have karaoke machine, probably wouldn't. Two and a half weeks delayed gratification, oh the pain! (So you see, happy endings abound, we will, after all be able to enjoy "let it Go!" in it's amplified version, with backup music, I can't wait.)
6 year old dramatics ensued, but so did a really great conversation with my daughter about real people who are not warm and who are hungry, so that we can have another trinket that won't even be important to us in the long run. (Insert more whining). It doesn't seem real to her, she has always had everything she needed. After a while though, big girl questions started to emerge, following Jesus is hard, how do I even hear him, how do I have a relationship with someone I can't even see, giving up what I want is so hard! It left me aching for her. I don't have simple answers to those questions. I did the best I could; I told her that the more we seek Him and His will, the more we talk to Him and read His word, the better we get at recognizing the voice of the spirit. But, the truth is, I still struggle with those same things sometimes. Alone, I prayed that my daughter would do those things, and I prayed that He would Please, please speak to her in a way that she could hear.
A couple days went by and I noticed a post on a buy/sell site for coat donations. The school that the lady's children attended had great need. I contacted her and told her about the coats. I asked if we could meet up once I had them, and guess what Y'all. It was Morgan's school! We wanted to bless kids who needed coats, but it was us who received the blessing of knowing that we have a God who listens, God who hears the prayers of kids who need coats, and those who need to know that God hears them, and that their prayers matter, that when you seek him, He will reveal himself. What a journey to be on with a child, to see them see the mysterious ways of Jesus for the first time, and what a God we have that works in ways unseen and bends down to listen to the prayers of each of his children.
Monday, November 10, 2014
Thursday, November 6, 2014
Doritos
The other morning something happened that got me to thinking about the evolution of mothering.
I was washing dishes, up to elbows in suds, when Levi dumped out the remnants of a bag of Doritos all over the floor. As I scrubbed, he sat there happily in his pile of Doritos, munching. Not clinging to my legs, not hollering "up", not crying, and dear friend, I did nothing. Not only did I do nothing, but as I moved on from the dishes and on to the other demands of the day, I must confess, I left the pile of Doritos on the floor...most.all.day.
Yep, I did. My little son happily rediscovered his pile of booty many times, and as many times, it rescued me from the ankle swarming whine dance as he occupied himself amid the detritus. Baylie Rose kept saying, "Mama, Levi's eating off the floor!!!" She knows this is most definitely not allowed, and I kept saying, "I know, sweetie, I'm getting to it." "No, you can't have any!"
Ugh. When did I become this mother?
Ok. Most of the time I'm not this mother, but something has changed in me, that is certain. A 16 month old Morgan would surely have been confined to her playpen while I cleaned it up immediately, whilst administering a lecture on germs, wasted food, and the Dangers of junk food. Those lectures have served mightily to enhance the vocabulary, but have alas, made no headway in any of the afore mentioned arenas.
It got me thinking about the frantic mother I was, and the way that the expansion of my brood has changed me....One child, berserk Nazi mom, two children, I honestly don't remember, but I like to think of this as the sane middle ground period, 3 children, call the health department!
I think I'll always be a helicopter mom at heart, but I'm learning, not to swoop in and rescue so much, not everything is an emergency. I had a bit of a zen moment there, with my dirty floor and my son's gleeful Dorito powdered grin. There is a balance that could be achieved here, if I could step back from the small stuff, a new sanity amid the chaos....either that, or that a kid will quit whining if you give it a Dorito. No, no that can't be it, my inner gym girl would never allow me to be that zen.
I was washing dishes, up to elbows in suds, when Levi dumped out the remnants of a bag of Doritos all over the floor. As I scrubbed, he sat there happily in his pile of Doritos, munching. Not clinging to my legs, not hollering "up", not crying, and dear friend, I did nothing. Not only did I do nothing, but as I moved on from the dishes and on to the other demands of the day, I must confess, I left the pile of Doritos on the floor...most.all.day.
Yep, I did. My little son happily rediscovered his pile of booty many times, and as many times, it rescued me from the ankle swarming whine dance as he occupied himself amid the detritus. Baylie Rose kept saying, "Mama, Levi's eating off the floor!!!" She knows this is most definitely not allowed, and I kept saying, "I know, sweetie, I'm getting to it." "No, you can't have any!"
Ugh. When did I become this mother?
Ok. Most of the time I'm not this mother, but something has changed in me, that is certain. A 16 month old Morgan would surely have been confined to her playpen while I cleaned it up immediately, whilst administering a lecture on germs, wasted food, and the Dangers of junk food. Those lectures have served mightily to enhance the vocabulary, but have alas, made no headway in any of the afore mentioned arenas.
It got me thinking about the frantic mother I was, and the way that the expansion of my brood has changed me....One child, berserk Nazi mom, two children, I honestly don't remember, but I like to think of this as the sane middle ground period, 3 children, call the health department!
I think I'll always be a helicopter mom at heart, but I'm learning, not to swoop in and rescue so much, not everything is an emergency. I had a bit of a zen moment there, with my dirty floor and my son's gleeful Dorito powdered grin. There is a balance that could be achieved here, if I could step back from the small stuff, a new sanity amid the chaos....either that, or that a kid will quit whining if you give it a Dorito. No, no that can't be it, my inner gym girl would never allow me to be that zen.
Monday, August 11, 2014
Walk the Line
I started out this morning reading a blog post on keeping perspective about what we have verses what we are made to feel we have to have. In the post the blogger gives us a tour of her kitchen and all of the overwhelming blessings it possess, even while not being the Better Homes kitchen of the year. It is absolutely true that the field of advertising is driven by the force of feminine dissatisfaction. Media creates and breeds it; it is rampant among us. We compare ourselves to each other via social media, we compare our menus, workout routines and homes via pinterest, and many of us compare our lives to those in magazines and television....to people and homes that aren't even real! It plants the seed of keeping up with the Jones, but there are no Jonse's, the Jone's are an advertising ploy invented to give us a standard to which we feel obligated to strive.
Having recently built a home, while simultaneously enduring an uncomfortable third pregnancy, I have spent more than my fair share of time on pinterest. It was an invaluable tool in keeping track of my ideas in a cohesive way, but I realized, the line is fine. Country Living and Pinterest should exist to inspire us, not to drive us toward guilt and discontent. They should encourage us to take positive action in our lives, not to while away time and resources wishing for something that we will never have, use, or be.
I had a bit of guilt after reading the afore mentioned blog post, because I do have subway tile back splash, the supposedly "it" thing that the blogger was made to feel less than for not having. Am I overly materialistic because I have an esthetically pleasing kitchen? But I didn't choose subway tile back splash because it was the "it" thing, I didn't even know that. I chose it because it was simple and clean and easy to wipe down, and that will still be true 20 years from not when there is a new "it" thing, and I will not want to remodel my kitchen. My home is beautiful, but it isn't beautiful because it's fancy or expensive, it's beautiful because I know my family deep down, and I chose things that were going to work for us in the long term, where we would be comfortable, and not feel pressured to change every time a new "it" rolls around, because we know who we are, and our space reflects that. I will love my home even when it's out of style, because I used media as a tool to inspire, rather than allowing it to become an agent of dissatisfaction. The bible talks about guarding our hearts, and there is so much more to guard from today than there ever has been before: fictional Jones's lurk around every corner sending the message, "You are not enough. You are not lovely, your home is lacking, if you just have this, you will be happy." We think we don't heed the message, but we hear it so often, bombarding us from every avenue. We are not invulnerable; we start to wonder, do I need that? Is happiness lurking just around the bend, behind the kitchen aid mixer and the kurig?
It's a fine line between inspiration and doubt. Surround yourself with things that inspire, ingest media that fills you with the truth, seek people who don't judge your worth by the trappings of your existence, those that motivate you toward greater perspective. Use facebook to connect, not compare. Allow yourself to be encouraged and inspired, but don't buy into discontent. Media is a great tool of empathy, connection, and learning, but it's a slippery slope. Guard your heart; walk the line.
Having recently built a home, while simultaneously enduring an uncomfortable third pregnancy, I have spent more than my fair share of time on pinterest. It was an invaluable tool in keeping track of my ideas in a cohesive way, but I realized, the line is fine. Country Living and Pinterest should exist to inspire us, not to drive us toward guilt and discontent. They should encourage us to take positive action in our lives, not to while away time and resources wishing for something that we will never have, use, or be.
I had a bit of guilt after reading the afore mentioned blog post, because I do have subway tile back splash, the supposedly "it" thing that the blogger was made to feel less than for not having. Am I overly materialistic because I have an esthetically pleasing kitchen? But I didn't choose subway tile back splash because it was the "it" thing, I didn't even know that. I chose it because it was simple and clean and easy to wipe down, and that will still be true 20 years from not when there is a new "it" thing, and I will not want to remodel my kitchen. My home is beautiful, but it isn't beautiful because it's fancy or expensive, it's beautiful because I know my family deep down, and I chose things that were going to work for us in the long term, where we would be comfortable, and not feel pressured to change every time a new "it" rolls around, because we know who we are, and our space reflects that. I will love my home even when it's out of style, because I used media as a tool to inspire, rather than allowing it to become an agent of dissatisfaction. The bible talks about guarding our hearts, and there is so much more to guard from today than there ever has been before: fictional Jones's lurk around every corner sending the message, "You are not enough. You are not lovely, your home is lacking, if you just have this, you will be happy." We think we don't heed the message, but we hear it so often, bombarding us from every avenue. We are not invulnerable; we start to wonder, do I need that? Is happiness lurking just around the bend, behind the kitchen aid mixer and the kurig?
It's a fine line between inspiration and doubt. Surround yourself with things that inspire, ingest media that fills you with the truth, seek people who don't judge your worth by the trappings of your existence, those that motivate you toward greater perspective. Use facebook to connect, not compare. Allow yourself to be encouraged and inspired, but don't buy into discontent. Media is a great tool of empathy, connection, and learning, but it's a slippery slope. Guard your heart; walk the line.
Tuesday, June 24, 2014
For believers
I look around and I see it: the world becoming more and more hateful of Christ-like things. The Dugger's are the butt of jokes, we are the object of ridicule...stay at home mom's who submit to our husband's, work in our homes, and pour into our families: those women are brainwashed! Because who could ever make such a choice deliberately? Even women's lib has swung to the other side of the pendulum, abandoning woman who would choose domesticity, but being able to choose, wasn't that the point?
The bible spells it out, clear as living water, family will turn against family, hate for the truth will reign in this world. As people follow subjective morality, sin will lie down among us, and be seen as benign, " for there is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death." (Proverbs 14:12). Gone even is the pretense of a Christian nation.
You Christian friend are rowing upstream. In a sound boat, traveling away from disaster, but never the less, it gets hard sometimes, teaching kids to paddle against the current; not capsizing the boat and drifting downstream. I think this is why Paul spends the majority of the new testament encouraging his friends, extending them an oar. So often, I feel like I can go it alone, here in my Hobbit hole, with a husband who loves me for who I am, I can put my nose down to the mess out there. But Christ doesn't call us to let one another gasp for breath. We must extend, encourage, receive encouragement.
I have a card in my top drawer, I cried when I read it. Your a good mom, she said....a life buoy. These are hard times, invite a mom to coffee, write a note of thanks or encouragement, pray for one another, be a conduit of grace. Do not let any who belong to Christ paddle alone, least of all yourself.
The bible spells it out, clear as living water, family will turn against family, hate for the truth will reign in this world. As people follow subjective morality, sin will lie down among us, and be seen as benign, " for there is a way which seemeth right unto a man, but the end thereof are the ways of death." (Proverbs 14:12). Gone even is the pretense of a Christian nation.
You Christian friend are rowing upstream. In a sound boat, traveling away from disaster, but never the less, it gets hard sometimes, teaching kids to paddle against the current; not capsizing the boat and drifting downstream. I think this is why Paul spends the majority of the new testament encouraging his friends, extending them an oar. So often, I feel like I can go it alone, here in my Hobbit hole, with a husband who loves me for who I am, I can put my nose down to the mess out there. But Christ doesn't call us to let one another gasp for breath. We must extend, encourage, receive encouragement.
I have a card in my top drawer, I cried when I read it. Your a good mom, she said....a life buoy. These are hard times, invite a mom to coffee, write a note of thanks or encouragement, pray for one another, be a conduit of grace. Do not let any who belong to Christ paddle alone, least of all yourself.
Wednesday, May 14, 2014
Implode, return, repeat
I must get out. If I don't, I will implode. My children have put me on the run. I retreat to the porch with cheese and wine. I very seldom have more than a glass, but this day feels like it could justify a vat. It's time to cook dinner. Levi has been up since noon. He's crying in his bed, but I know once he's this worked up the odds of him falling asleep are very bad. Like me, once I get like this I can't go to God; when I'm already hoarse from yelling at the big but not as big as she thinks she is girl. I am desperate ....facebook, wine, food, maybe I'll buy something online. I am an empty hole, screaming for any kind of relief, and I can't look where deep relief lies. Maybe I am ashamed, or maybe anger can't stand before God.
They would be better off without me, I sometimes think when it's ugly; without all my sins that rear and buck again and again. I just can't get it right, and I can't even look where I know I'll find it. I push away, like the 6 year old, until my blood cools, and the only thing left fierce is guilt. I burn out. I stretch thin; my bible study girl cracks and bleeds.
My God receives me like the parent I wish I was. Why is this so hard? Why did you give me children to damage? I return, but I don't know how to do better tomorrow- when the inevitable happens and attitudes flair, shoes get tripped over, reminded to pick up and tripped over again, naptime comes without rest, oh I am manic during the screaming naps, girls fight, and tattle, and demand. I do not know how to grow up and become the parent who can parent herself, but as I know, the absent parent is worse.
I try again. Returning is all I have, and the miracle of littles is that they know something I have forgotten: every day is new.
They would be better off without me, I sometimes think when it's ugly; without all my sins that rear and buck again and again. I just can't get it right, and I can't even look where I know I'll find it. I push away, like the 6 year old, until my blood cools, and the only thing left fierce is guilt. I burn out. I stretch thin; my bible study girl cracks and bleeds.
My God receives me like the parent I wish I was. Why is this so hard? Why did you give me children to damage? I return, but I don't know how to do better tomorrow- when the inevitable happens and attitudes flair, shoes get tripped over, reminded to pick up and tripped over again, naptime comes without rest, oh I am manic during the screaming naps, girls fight, and tattle, and demand. I do not know how to grow up and become the parent who can parent herself, but as I know, the absent parent is worse.
I try again. Returning is all I have, and the miracle of littles is that they know something I have forgotten: every day is new.
Saturday, May 3, 2014
I am a judgmental hag
So I had some questions about a blog post that I feel I need to write, one that is kind of harsh and may put me in front of the firing squad. I don't mind being in front of the firing squad, but if I'm going to be there, I want it to be because of something the Holy Spirit lead me to say, and not just my own wanton criticisms, so I called another blogger whom I like and respect to ask for her wisdom. We are discussing one thing and another, when all of the sudden I am spewing ugly all over this innocent bystander, who now can clearly see how ugly I am, and probably doesn't want to be my friend anymore....
There is this person, whom I believe to be a genuinely nice person, but is so opposite of me in every respect that everything they do rubs me backwards. Some of the stuff bothers me because I think it's unbiblical, but here's the thing, you know what I'm absolutely sure is unbiblical, judgment coming from someone other than the judge. Being under contention with another Christian is clearly spelled out in the bible, so that's where I am, firmly entrenched in the wrong. Whether this person's actions, thoughts, beliefs are in line with scripture, I am not rebuking them out of love, I am wanting to call them out because they annoy me. So not cool, and saying it out loud to someone I know, but don't know just made it sound horrid, which of course, it was.
So now what? Now that you all know what a judgmental hag I am? Not sure; I know that I'm not going to be taking communion while I spend some time with God on this one, and I know that this person has some strengths in places where I have weaknesses and visa versa, so every time I think about them I am going to name something good. I am going to add them to my prayer list for the biblical issues.
I have not walked this person's road, so I don't know their struggles, but I do know that our savior not only loves, but likes this person, and it is not okay for me to be unkind, so I'll be working on that. maybe a part of this person's journey, even if they don't know it is to teach me a thing or two about extending grace, because when it comes back around, I need some too.
There is this person, whom I believe to be a genuinely nice person, but is so opposite of me in every respect that everything they do rubs me backwards. Some of the stuff bothers me because I think it's unbiblical, but here's the thing, you know what I'm absolutely sure is unbiblical, judgment coming from someone other than the judge. Being under contention with another Christian is clearly spelled out in the bible, so that's where I am, firmly entrenched in the wrong. Whether this person's actions, thoughts, beliefs are in line with scripture, I am not rebuking them out of love, I am wanting to call them out because they annoy me. So not cool, and saying it out loud to someone I know, but don't know just made it sound horrid, which of course, it was.
So now what? Now that you all know what a judgmental hag I am? Not sure; I know that I'm not going to be taking communion while I spend some time with God on this one, and I know that this person has some strengths in places where I have weaknesses and visa versa, so every time I think about them I am going to name something good. I am going to add them to my prayer list for the biblical issues.
I have not walked this person's road, so I don't know their struggles, but I do know that our savior not only loves, but likes this person, and it is not okay for me to be unkind, so I'll be working on that. maybe a part of this person's journey, even if they don't know it is to teach me a thing or two about extending grace, because when it comes back around, I need some too.
Sunday, April 20, 2014
If you were the only one
Whenever I read the bible, I always see God speaking to David, to Abraham, to the Israelites, but I have the hardest time in my heart of hearts believing that he is speaking to ME. I believe that Christ died for our sins, I do, but you have to admit, it's a pretty efficient arrangement: by sending his son, ALL would have the opportunity to be saved. One sacrifice, many souls, but here is the thing my friend, the glorious beautiful truth: God didn't die for our sins, he died for each of our sins....If he knew that you and you alone ( I and I alone!!!) would accept his grace, he would have still endured suffering and death. He loves YOU that much. Let it settle into your soul; He sees you, your struggles, and his hand of grace is extended to you. In your mothers womb, he knew you, and on the cross, he thought of you, in the small hours of your suffering he sees your tears, sheds them with you. He took your burden that you may be free of it. He gave you the word so that you might accept the truth of what he has done for you. He died so that you may have life, and on this glorious day, HE IS RISEN!
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