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 :)

A New Year, A Whole-Hand Birthday & Drinking Deep

It's been quite a while since I've sat down and began intentionally lining up letters to make words to make sentences and to piece together some of my scattered ragged thoughts. 

My writing lately looks like a few sentences here and there copy/pasted into a handy app called Werdsmith. :) It stores my bits and pieces until I can take one of them and stretch it into a complete thought... and yes, it's an app, which means my husband has completely Mac'd me. He gave me an iPad for Christmas with a keyboard case and I couldn't be more thrilled!! The test came when my Dell laptop came back from being cleaned up and reimaged... and I tried to use it. Before I realized it, I was tapping the screen seriously irritated! I wasn't sure if I would ever get the hang of thinking in Mac-land but lo and behold... wonders never cease! 

I guess you might say I get a bit more retrospective when my children's birthdays roll around but even more so with Jonny's birthday. January 22nd will be his "whole hand" birthday! (Turning 5 is the current highlight of his life!)

One of the habits I'm choosing to make this year (I detest resolutions. I don't need to resolve anything! I need a revolution!!!) is one of daily being in that soul-reviving Living Word drinking deep so my thirst is quenched by Him and no other. There is a white board on our back door Family Center with Jesus' response to the woman at the well... (tUrV - the Uninspired ruth Version) You've tried so many other things to satisfy that deep down driving desire... I'm right here! What are you waiting for?! If you come and drink deep of ME, your driving desire will be met. I am the LIVING Word. Everything will change when you saturate yourself in only Me. 

So I found my dear One Year Bible stuck on a shelf and have been keeping mostly on track and when days pile up, I'm learning to simply read a bit more and go on. :) No guilt. 

So, this day, I sat down with a cup of coffee to read and a little man followed me wanting to sit next to me. As a mom, my emotions were mixed. I wanted to snuggle him and hold him close but I also just. wanted. to. read. without. being. touched. So, I explained to him that Mommy wanted to sit and listen to Jesus talk to her and read His words. If you want to get your VeggieTale Bible, you may quietly sit next to mommy, but there is no talking right now. We are listening to Jesus talk to us. 

That sounds all great and fine, but when rubber says "hiya" to the road of reality, what really holds?! I was shocked, actually.

He is quietly sitting next to me, Bob and Larry staring at him as he turns the pages silently. I am reading and listening to the Voice of Life... and the next blessed thing I hear is this rather loud stage whisper: "Do not fear, for I am with you!"... "Do not fear, for I am with you!"

I didn't know whether I should laugh, cry or hug him while I laughed and cried! He looked up at me and said "I'm saying my verse from school, Mommy. They are Jesus' Words. Right, Mommy?" 

Oh sweet little boy, they are Jesus' words! Those are the very words I was praying over and over "a whole hand" of years ago before I'd even met you. Then remembering those words as you were carted away from us for testing... and trying desperately to hear them while walking through the Trial by Potty Training. I can say... it is TRUE! Even in the darkness of the never-ending battle of potty-training, He is with me and I will not fear. 

While I am somewhat known for a deep enjoyment of good sarcasm, there is none in that last paragraph. 

Truth-moment? Potty training this boy was a deep dark time for me. I was staring into another year of *just* him and me at home purely because he REFUSED to do what he needed to on that toilet. Lots of dark thoughts flitted through but I knew ( k n e w )deep down that God doesn't ever make mistakes. It wasn't the easy choice or thought to grasp, but Truth rarely is. 

That moment, that stage-whisper, those precious words said by the little boy who still surprises me... when his big brother was disappointed about not joining the "Glasses Club" of which the rest of the family is a life-long member, he patted his leg and said consolingly, "It's okay, Michael. Jesus conquered the grave. It will be okay!"... these (and many others) are evidences of my Father who will not let me go whatever the darkness or exhilaration because He. Loves. Me. 

Did you get that? Because it's true of YOU, my friend. 

He. Loves. You. :) Even in the rain. Look up and smile because you bring Him joy. 

Splash in those puddles! Laugh hysterically because you have nothing to fear! 

He truly has conquered the grave. :)

Exciting Times!

Ever have a time when God is doing so much in your life that it's hard to even begin to share?!

That's me right now.

There's so much I want to share... where I've come from and how God has used it and how He's changing me through it.

Some day. :) The timing will be right. 

But in the meantime... I want to let you know that I'll be speaking at a Mother-Daughter Banquet in Augusta, MI - Friday May 11!  Check out the details here!

I'm excited and nervous all at the same time!!

If you think of me Friday evening, pray that the ladies can laugh, be encouraged, even cry a little as they are challenged with Colossians 3:12-17 and The Mother Curse. :)

Keep on dancing!!

The Mother Curse - Seeing Your Daughter's Potential While She's Driving You Nuts

It’s déjà vu meets out of body experience. I’m sitting on the floor helping my daughter put away the eternal pile in her room, and I see her blonde head pouring over a book she hadn’t seen in awhile. I’m taken back 28 years to another room with shag carpet. I’m sitting on the floor and this time, it’s my mother that is helping me clean up my eternal pile. My short brown page boy haircut flops down in my eyes as I find a book that was just begging to be opened and perused. I hear my mother’s pained frustration at having to remind me yet again to stay on task and finish the job… and I feel that same helplessness. I don’t know how I can put down a book that calls my name. I put that book away and find myself on another rabbit trail when my mother breaks into my thoughts with “Someday, Ruth Lynn, you will have a little girl JUST LIKE YOU.”

I snap back to the present where I’m still sitting on the floor sorting Polly Pocket from Littlest Pet Shop. And, she’s still there, head down, hair in her eyes, enraptured with her imagination. I call her name and she looks up with a guilty deer-in-the-headlights-look. Brusquely, I remind her that the pile will not put itself away, but I refrain from echoing those age-old words. Yes, she will indeed if God so wills it… she will have a little girl just like her, and that’s a good thing. Strong-willed daughters give their mothers gray hair, but someday they’ll change the world if they learn to submit to God.

Some days, however, I wonder if she’ll live that long. My frustration with her feels overwhelming at times. The repeated bickering with her brothers, her refusal to keep her body to herself, her lack of respect to her daddy and me, the lack of desire to obey, and my own sin issues reflected back to me make it hard to see the amazing qualities she does have.

I try to remember that I need to be thankful, that she is a gift. Of course, I think, her very creation is a miracle. But it is so very hard to see that gift in the moments where my peace is disturbed and fights reign and I am forced to fight for composure and justice and patience one more time. Ephesians 5:20 comes to mind, “And give thanks for everything to God the Father in the name of our Lord Jesus Christ”.

Ann Voskamp captures my thoughts exactly:

          “The whole of life – even the hard – is made up of the minute parts,

and if I miss the infinitesimals, I miss the whole. …

There is a way to live the big of giving thanks in all things.

It is this: to give thanks in this one small thing. The moments will add up.

She continues:

“But in this counting gifts, to one thousand, more, I discover that slapping

a sloppy brush of thanksgiving over everything in my life leaves me deeply thankful for very few things in my life. A lifetime of sermons on

“thanks in all things” and the shelves sagging with books on these things

 and I testify: life-changing gratitude does not fasten to a life unless

 nailed through with one very specific nail at a time.”

That moment when I see beyond the hands on her hips and the furrow of her brow and the attitude she’s wearing... when I can see the gift of her strong character and love her for it.  That is the counting. That is the nailing. The strong-willed daughter’s mother must be strong-willed as well. She must doggedly see the good gift in her child whether the mood is compliant or volume loud.

I continually feel that there is a piece missing to our relationship. I remember how as a single teacher, I’d tell my student’s parents to look for even the smallest thing to give positive reinforcement. The child finds himself drowning in the negative issues of his own making and unable to see the love of the parent.  Sometimes, I cringe at the gall I had to say stuff like that – having no experience. It had to be hard to hear from a single non-parent like me. Now, as a parent, yeah – I should listen to my former self.

As I was pondering how to bridge the gap in our mother-daughter relationship, I heard a song speaking the name of Yahweh: the God who wanted us to know His name. It hit me. I need to make myself known to her. I struggle in almost the same ways she does. I’ve done this a few times before, took the time to open myself up to her, but never on a regular or intentional basis. Each time, though, she looked up at me blue eyes rimmed with thick lashes in solemn understanding that she’s not the only one.

That’s the most appealing thing about Jesus. He, our High Priest, wore the same flesh and bone and struggled with temptation just as we do. Hebrews 4:15-16

“For we do not have a high priest who is unable to empathize with our weaknesses, but we have one who has been tempted in every way, just as we are—yet he did not sin. Let us then approach God’s throne of grace with confidence, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help us in our time of need.”

When I find myself working on that eternal pile in her room, I will see beyond her rabbit-trailing to the gift of who she is.  I will speak words of encouragement to her and give her hope that her mommy understands the struggles she has.

There is indeed Someone who can empathize with our weakness. Praise God!

Summing it up

This comic sums it up for yesterday and today. :) 

I'm excited to go thrifting with a friend tonight!

A date night would be lovely... but sometimes, you take what you can get!  lol

How's YOUR dance going today?? :)

The Challenge of Being a Mom

It is an age-old mom challenge: Kids, Colds and Church.

Every year (it seems to get sooner and sooner) October and November begin the predictable cycle of colds and sniffles. You know you can’t encapsulate your child in a germ-free bubble, though the idea does cross your mind every once in awhile. You even know that coming into contact with germs is a necessary to the function of the immune system.

Yet… that mothering/protective instinct comes out of you with force.

So Sunday, you decide to play it “safe” and keep your just-barely-sniffling two-year old home.

That very evening you are hit with the baffling irony… he is sick anyhow. Not only just a sniffly nose, but now he’s up at 11 coughing so hard it sounds like a dog barking. He can’t sleep, he’s tossing and turning and crying. You somehow unearth the Vicks VapoCream with sleep crusted eyes while trying to calm a flailing child.

The cream is a godsend, however, an unfortunate side-effect is that it chills whatever skin it comes in contact with. As he begins to relax and breathe deeply, you realize that your arm (now chilled from the cream) is stuck under his head as he lays next to you. You silently debate with yourself the pros and cons of moving your arm thus waking up the sleeping toddler or having a very cold and now numb arm for an undetermined span of time. The debate ends with you dozing on and off as he moves in his sleep.

Finally, at 12:30 you come to grips with the fact that if you do not move this child back to his bed, your body (and mind, for that matter) will be very upset with you the next morning. Your family and your day require your A-Game - whether you have it or not.

 

So, after he’s sleeping soundly in his bed, you manage to reclaim the last 6 hours of your nights sleep. Your body (and mind) thank you! And… you thank your husband as he gets cereal out for the munchkins and heads off to work.

The rub comes as you launch into your week without the benefit of being with the Body… again.  Not standing with your family of believers and praising God for who He is - nevermind hearing the Word spoken and taught, receiving the challenge and applying it to your own life - you feel like you're close to empty. 

Studying theology for four years, learning how to take the Word apart and see the intricacies of the ancient languages and the understanding and beauty they bring to the text make being content with only having time to read a paragraph or two very difficult. This too shall pass, you know this. It’s just a season and the demands on your time will change.  Still, it’s frustrating to know how to chew steak but have to settle for a granola bar. Both are good for you, but you need a whole lot more time for the one.

Missing church and having to stay home with a sick child added to the demands of a family and you have all the ingredients for a dive into selfishness and ingratitude.  Not to mention self-pity.

You try all sorts of mind tricks (“it could be worse”, “someone else has a much harder life than me”, “it will be better tomorrow”) to keep yourself thinking right, but you find in the end (as all of the previous thoughts go south) that it is only consciously choosing thankfulness at all times that will keep you on the sane side of the highway.

Every single one of us has a story and history. Each one is filled with situations that would be easy to see as terrible and ugly, even to question why God allowed it. Choosing thankfulness would be the equivalent of climbing Mt Everest. Really?! How in the world can I see this as a good thing? Just can’t do it. No way. No how.

But God knows our frame. He knows we are just dust. When we make that heavy choice to look at our past and present circumstances and choose to be grateful, He hears His child loving Him more than the irritation and hurt… more than the pain… more than gloomy feelings… more than herself.

He knows our hearts and even if we are not fully thankful for the things that drive us nuts, He knows we want to please Him. That small choice to be thankful for the setting sun while the children fight over who gets which stool will not escape His notice.

Thankfulness leads to Joy – not happiness – but true Joy in the Creator of the Universe who made me and knows me and loves me still.

When you are thankful, you will find joy blooming where before there was only a desert. 

Will you join me in this?  Look back over your past, see His gracious good gifts in the hard things, and see how He is shaping you in the present daily trials. 

Oh... and by the way.... today this writer is thankful for Vicks VapoRub Cream!

Setting the Thermostat

Rest. Stillness. Quiet.
Those are typically not words that describe a home with a 6, 4, and 2 year old.

I've heard it said that a mom can be either the thermostat or the thermometer of the home. She can either set the temperature or react to the temperature of the home.

I want to be the thermostat not the thermometer. More often than not, however, I'm the thermometer - reacting; feeling the temperature sliding toward harried, frustrated, and irritable. Hungry kids, toy clutter and lateness in starting dinner all add up to... well... not nice things. 

I want to be the temp-setter. I want to set the temperature of our home to quiet, peaceful, and restful. Beginning dinner when I should, giving a fresh fruit snack to stave off the "hungry monster", and playing with the kids while helping to put toys away will contribute to a temperature of quiet, peaceful welcome to a daddy who has worked hard all day long.

The rub comes when I've had "a day" and dinner is not begun and the kids are hungry and not cooperating. That is when it is most difficult to make the choice to be a temp-setter not a reactor melting down. I haven't figured out a magic solution to this yet, but I do know that staying in the Word is critical to my flashpoint. Thinking about scripture, praying for those who God brings to mind, turning my irritations into gratitude, and praising Him for even the interruptions. These things are not a magic solution, but they turn my thoughts away from Me, My, and Mine to see His, Him, and all He is.

I cannot be about Me and about Him at the same time.

I'm sitting here at the Zeeland Recreation Center writing while Michael is in gymnastics and Chloe is in ballet. My time of solitude with no interruptions is quickly coming to a close. Each week, I look forward to this time to think and evaluate. This week, I'm pretty sure my grade would be in the D-F range regarding being a temp-setter.

My goal this week, with God's help, is to turn every part of me to be about His, Him, and who He is.
Join me? :)