Not your typical Mother's Day post

If you clicked on this link to read a thoroughly sappy post dedicated to moms, you won't find it here - at least not thoroughly. 

If you wanted to read a diatribe on how Hallmark has capitalized on our guilt and made millions from the need to press into one day what should be readily seen every single day of your life, I'd love to, but sorry. I'm sure there is another link out there for ya. 

If you are thinking "Hmm. Well, that either makes her some neo-feminist or else a hard-hearted crazy woman", while that could be true... its not. 

I'm a mom. 

I have been such for the last nine years of my life. I have had the privilege of feeling my body change and expand uncomfortably (and dareisayit beautifully?) over the span of nine months three separate times. I've ridden the hormonal rollercoaster of the after-pregnancy and somehow made it through the fog of nighttime feedings to welcome the new normal of each new little person and how our family has changed as a result. My body bears the marks of this. I've added a few more soft spots they love to snuggle (that I wish I was more disciplined about removing). 

I'm just an average mom. 

I know a mom whose dear hubby is military and she runs a daycare. She is far more self-sufficient than I will ever be. 

Another mom is on her own making her two beautiful kids her world while going to school. 

There is another beautiful woman grieving the loss of her man and staying afloat on the grace of God while she parents her 7 amazing kids. 

I know another woman who today had her very first Mother's Day and she hasn't even met her little man yet. She wasn't sure she ever would have the chance and she's over-the-moon excited that she will meet him in a few short months. 

Another mom today thanks God for the 4 women who carried their children to term so she could wrap her arms around them and they could call her mom. 

I know another mom who gave birth to a love for orphans before she ever had one of her own. Now 4 kids later... :)

I can guarantee you each one of these amazing women feel like horrible moms some days and question their sanity on more than one occasion - sometimes daily. Having another day to throw up a "perfect-face" isn't what we moms need. We need the daily "Hey girl. No pretending or pinteresting here, how's it really going? Oh and btw, I've so got yer back! We can make it." 

Mother's Day shouldn't be a contest and secret jealousy match over whose hubby did the most and greatest. 

Being a parent sucks sometimes. It's hard. Mom or Dad: it doesn't matter. The weight of this little person/peoples life rests on both your shoulders. You screw up and lose it and feel like someone could just save you the trouble and label you a nice big failure right now because you're darn sure these kids will end up in juvenile detention by the time you're done. 

Being a parent is the single most life-shaping event that has happened to me. The woman nine years ago was still unpacking the boxes from her classroom teary eyed over the fact that she will likely not be in a classroom as a full-time teacher again. She was wading through the muck of her own emotions and coming to terms with the instant relationship her gorgeous baby girl had with her daddy knowing she couldn't rewrite the history with her own dad. Today, that woman is sitting here remembering that a blink of an eye changes life completely. Life is here and is gone. She didn't finish the dishes while her in-laws were here because relationship is more important than a clean kitchen. (And for the record - all the cooking was done yesterday :) ) She is struggling to learn the nuances of letting each child be their own person while still holding up lines and boundaries. She desperately wants to focus on what's important and most of the time, it means she isn't. 

Like I said... Today is Mother's Day. But I hope tomorrow is also your Mother's Day and also the next and the one after that. 

Because, hey girl, I know being a mom is amazing and heart-breaking all at the same time, so I got yer back. No contest here. 

The only contest is who can cheer for the other the loudest :)

Happy Mother's Day!

It’s done! With God’s help, I did it!

I stood in front of a room of women and shared my struggles being my strong-willed daughter’s mother.

I almost didn’t do it.  I almost canceled.

I figured it’s rather hypocritical to stand and deliver a message that you screw up a hundred times a day. Not to mention the fact that God holds me accountable for what I know… yeah. It’s more than a little scary.

But God is gracious and I danced. He took this cracked pot and used it to show His goodness!!

So, today, I remember and love and see beyond her actions and my agenda to see God’s gifts in the moment. 

Here’s a link to Ann’s DIY project…  Take a bit of time for you!

Happy Mother's Day - You wonderful Women!

My Mother's Strength

No, it’s not Mother’s Day. Not for a few more months, anyway! 

(For those of you whose hearts are racing thinking you missed something.)

And, yes, I know Easter is coming soon. It’s that exact reason I’m writing this.

My mother, Carolyn, has many stories to tell. In fact, it’s her stories that she loves to remember and connect to us as our stories – our history.

As a child, I loved to dust off her flowered orange, mustard yellow and olive green photo albums. I’d creak them open and peer into her life as a single woman – head thrown back, long hair blowing in the wind. She didn’t get married until she was 30 so she had lots of time to rack up stories to tell her daughters.

She grew up the oldest of 4 girls – one of whom is waiting for her in Heaven. Her other sisters are fun-loving creative people whom I love dearly! She was born and raised in Alberta, Canada. When she got older, her family moved to Moline, IL and it was there that she met her lifelong friend Linda. It was through her that she began to grow strong in Christ and what it means to stand strong in Him. She couldn’t possibly know it then, but that relationship with her Father God would be the only thing that could sustain her through years of hardship later.

Her single years saw her traveling and working. She worked for several orphanages – one of them being in Whitehorse in the Yukon Territory. I saw pictures of a little shack she camped in one time with her friends and a close up of bear scratches in the wood of their door as a bear was trying to get friendly. She told me of dog sled races and ice fishing as well as wearing Mukluks – tall rabbit fur lined moose skin moccasins. She still has a pair.

While in Whitehorse, she was in charge of the little boys ward. She would take care of them, tell them stories and tuck them in bed at night – essentially being Mommy to them. This was the 70’s! She was single – many of her friends were either shacking up or hitching up and here she was loving the orphan, more specifically, the unruly boy orphan.

She later worked at another orphanage in Chicago caring for Junior High girls. How in the world she stayed sane trying to teach and love some very difficult and hormonal girls is more than I’ll ever know! I think maybe God was giving her some heads-up experiences to draw from for her future daughters and building relationships with them.

It was very important to her that my sister and I both learn the mechanics of working a sewing machine. I’m certain it has nothing to do with the “woman being domestic in her home” or some such thing, but rather a skill that she herself found extremely handy numerous times.

She told me of the men and women in college that couldn’t iron their collars properly or mend their clothes. She had an instant business. They came to her for a job that was a necessity with those large 70’s collars and they paid her well!

Then in 1975 she met her husband, my father. They have been married almost 37 years and each one has been difficult. She has lived through moving across country four times, homeschooling her four children while being a pastor’s wife and leading Children’s Sunday School AND running a daycare during the week, she has also dealt with her husband’s workaholicism, resigning from two churches as pastor, massive heart attack, emotional abuse, and… AND somehow, my mother can still look at me whispering through her tears that her God, her relationship with her Father and Friend has been the only thing that kept her going.  

It is because of Easter that my Mother can celebrate Mother’s Day.

Without her Savior, Father, and Friend, she would have nothing worth celebrating. She is my encourager and friend. I know that there is truly nothing… Not. One. Thing. that is too hard or too deep for Him to bring you through.

I love you, Mom. I know you’ve had it hard, but thank you for showing me how to cling to Christ and hold on for dear life. I will never forget.