WOW! So it’s 2016 already?!

That means it’s going on 11 years since I started my motherhood journey. And this blog has seen me through the majority of it! I have grown and learned so much over the past decade. It’s been quite a ride. I look back on earlier posts and remember those days when the kids were little, and I was barely hanging on. Lots of good and happy moments…but I know that the girl I was back then didn’t really know who she was yet. I didn’t know what it meant to be a mom and still be ME. I didn’t know what it meant to be a mom, period. Most of the journey to figure it out was slow and the change was unnoticeable. But there were also some major milestones along the way that seemed to launch me right into a new chapter almost overnight. Like when I discovered that being a mom didn’t have to be the ONLY thing to define me.  And that I could still have big dreams and think outside the box…and that doing so might not be to the detriment of my children’s well-being, but actually a precursor to it. I wrote about that season HERE…I was never ever the same kind of mom after that. And I’m so grateful.

I also learned that sometimes big dreams start very small…and that extraordinary could be found in the ordinary. And it’s funny, after I gave myself permission to fly I realized that I was pretty happy right where I was. The whole cage looked a lot different with the doors flung open. It wasn’t a cage at all. And this had been the crux of most of my issue. I had felt trapped and suffocated even though the sunlight and oxygen were pouring in. I just couldn’t see it before. That was the season where I fully accepted my life as a gift. A speaker once said “All of life is gratuity”…and that phrase has never left me.  I finally saw it that way. There were plenty of things that didn’t feel like gifts. My marriage was struggling, my kids were exhausting, I was battling depression. But I found so much hope and peace in the midst of it. I still look back on that season as one of the most joy-filled times in my life. Because it was WELL WITH MY SOUL.

And God did eventually bring healing and restoration to my marriage and my emotional state. I found my stride as a mother. Circumstances that I had learned to embrace eventually DID change for the better, and life got really good. We experienced an enormous time of sheer undeserved blessing. There were many “new” experiences…a new home, a new marriage, a new job for my husband. And eventually, a new baby :)

But right when I was getting my bearings and feeling like I had gotten things figure out, I hit a wall in my spiritual life. It’s funny how crisis brings you to your knees and sometimes blessings make you flee. I was so used to living in crisis and desperation in many ways that when the hardships lifted, I lost my footing spiritually. God suddenly felt far away. He was always who I had run to in my heartache or despair. But now, my heart wasn’t aching, and my heart wasn’t despairing…and I wasn’t quite sure how to connect with Him in this place. Hence, this next chapter would usher in my first Crisis of Faith.

Suddenly, in the midst of blessing, I had the luxury to question things I had never the desire, nor the time, to question before. When you’re desperate, you don’t spend a lot of time examining the life preserver thrown at you, you just grab it. I just knew I was drowning in the middle of a storm, and the life preserver saved me. Over and over again. That’s all I really needed to know. But from the comfort of a big happy boat,  I found myself analyzing things in a way I never previously had. I don’t know that this is good or bad. I spent a ton of time trying to figure out how I got there. I don’t know if I will ever know. But I honestly loathed it. It’s funny how even during the harder seasons of life, I felt so much peace…and now, here when I had been given everything I had ever dreamed of…I felt restless…lost….like my foundation was missing. I know it sounds crazy but I almost MISSED the crisis. Because I wouldn’t trade that inner peace for ANYTHING, not even perfect outside circumstances.

But I was stuck in that season for a while. And when I realized it wasn’t going to just “go away”, I  had to embrace it as yet another part of my life in need of acceptance. Maybe I’d never feel as close to God as I had in those darker times. What then? Would I question His existence simply because I couldn’t “feel” Him anymore? I had to do a lot of soul searching. What was my faith really all about? What was I relying on to be sure what I believed? In some ways, I think I always questioned these things…I just finally had the time to seek out better answers. I read about what Mother Theresa described as her dark night of the soul. She says, “I am told God lives in me — and yet the reality of darkness and coldness and emptiness is so great that nothing touches my soul,” and  “I want God with all the power of my soul — and yet between us there is terrible separation” and “I feel just that terrible pain of loss, of God not wanting me, of God not being God, of God not really existing.”

Now I’m no Mother Theresa, but I could so relate to those feelings!  And if the saintliest woman of all time could feel that way sometimes, then surely I was bound to. It brought me great comfort. So eventually I learned to live with it. I did a lot of reading, praying, sharing with friends. I freaked some of them out…some thought my faith was too unshakable to be in this place of doubt and questioning. I was just as surprised as they were. It was humbling and scary . The same speaker who once said “all of life is gratuity” also said “Be careful if you ever catch yourself saying ‘I don’t think that could happen to me’…because chances are it will happen to you. I never doubted my ability to fail in a thousand and one different ways, but I always thought my faith was the one thing that was rock solid. The thing I’d always have that couldn’t be shaken. After everything I had experienced, how could I POSSIBLY doubt??

But I had to learn (and am still learning) that JESUS is the only thing I’ll ever have. And Jesus is not the same thing as my faith in Jesus. Oddly, I was putting too much faith in my faith…and not enough in HIM. This is a confusing and small difference but I can only describe it as transferring my confidence from myself and my ability to believe or not believe to JESUS. I’d done that very easily in the harder seasons…this time it had to be more of a conscious choice. And it was much harder.

In total this season has lasted about 3 years. And while it was a great season of blessing, it was very tough spiritually. But I am so grateful for the ways my friends spoke into my life. Even if I lost confidence, they never did. When I said I was struggling to believe God’s love for me, one of my dear friends said “He loves you so much…and if you can’t see that right now, it’s ok. I believe it for you”. Another time when I was feeling guilty that perhaps I was in this mess because I had somehow taken a wrong turn, a friend said, “This isn’t about what YOU are doing…It’s about what HE’s doing…He’s expanding your capacity to love. And so for a while, as you expand, you might feel emptier…but hang in there, because He’s about to fill it up”. I’m so grateful for these friends and countless others who patiently watched me flail but never for a moment doubted that I would come out the other side.

And that brings me to present day. While I wouldn’t say I’m completely out of this last chapter, I think I’m standing on the precipice of the next one. I definitely feel like I’ve expanded. This crisis of faith has opened a whole world up to me and awoken me to parts of myself that I can now see were always there. The questioner and the doubter has ALWAYS been me. I think I discovered that even in this chapter, what felt like losing myself was really finding myself. Once again, I see that the cage doors are wide open and my world has been expanding, not shrinking. What I thought was regression was progression. That’s so like Jesus…the way up is ALWAYS down first! I don’t think my faith will ever be the same as it was before. It’s more complex now. I have a deeper grasp for WHY I believe what I believe. And I have a brand new passion for a world that never existed to me before. The world of faith and doubt is one I’m intimately acquainted with now…and perhaps I am more useful to those who find themselves there than I would have been had I never experienced all of this. I have greater compassion for those, like the man in Mark, who say “I believe, help me in my unbelief”. Or for the doubting Thomas…who needed to TOUCH the physical scars on Jesus’ hands in order to trust. If that’s you, I totally get you now.

So this next season I’m entering into makes sense. It feels like a culmination of the past 10 years…as though everything I have been through was leading me to this place. This next chapter will still be about me being a mother and raising my babies…but I’m also going to continue my education. I am nervously excited to start classes online to complete my Master’s Degree in Apologetics from Houston Baptist University. I have been praying about this for almost a year and I really think it’s where I am meant to go. Everything I have gone through…dreaming big dreams, expanding my capacity, questioning my faith…it all has prepared me so perfectly for this new place. I am scared to death, but I am so, so excited. The program is heavily centered on writing so I will finally invest some time into actually WRITING rather than rambling :) And I will learn how to put my passions onto paper…how to articulate all of things that are spinning around in my head, especially after these last three years of soul searching. I am SO grateful for a husband and friends and family who all support me in this. I am so grateful for a life that has been shaped by a God who sees further down the road than I do. And I am so grateful for a chance to take a leap of faith and see where it lands me. I didn’t have this on my radar AT ALL, but I’m saying yes. I’m learning to accept the gifts as they come, with open hands and a sense of wonder…and gratitude. Because if there is one thing I’ve learned it is that all of life really IS gratuity.

Share

I’ve got 25 minutes until the kids come home from school. I’m sitting in my living room with a Christmas candle burning, Steve Harvey on the television, and a pile of clean laundry sitting next to me that I know I eventually need to fold. Baby napping, it’s a chance to take in a quiet moment.

And yet, my heart is restless. I can’t concentrate. I feel this wild pull to sort my thoughts, not the clothes.

Ever since Friday, we have been reeling, feeling, discussing, arguing, and deciding. Sorting.

I’m reading the comments, the posts, the pleas, the exhortations, the rhetoric, the propositions….

And I dig deep into my my heart, soul and mind with all my strength and I am asking like the rest of you…

What are we to do?”

I think we all want to pass this test.

And I read the exhortations from my tribe…people I look up to and respect. And they remind me what it looks like to love like Jesus and welcome and accept and invite everyone to the table.

And I read the exhortations from others in my tribe…others I looks up to and respect. And they remind me that we are to be wise as serpents and innocent as doves. And that loving people doesn’t mean we are foolish.

And I feel familiarity in their words, like when I want to adopt literally EVERY single child that I’ve ever come across who needs a home…and God has to temper my passion and remind me that even good things done outside of His will and calling can sometimes no longer be good things. And that Jesus only did what he saw the Father doing and moved where the Father called him… and nothing more…and He had to pass by a LOT of good things because He was wise.

And I feel familiarity in their words, like when I want to love the least of these, but I let fear and comfort get in the way. Or when I  talk myself out of something that I KNOW God is asking me to do because I know it looks just as crazy at it sounds and I back off and clip my own wings and settle rather than soar. When I miss opportunities to love because I choose practical over beautiful. Because I refuse to do the illogical thing and run head first into God’s call to be brave and unleash that perfect love that will send fear to the corners and change the whole wide hurting world.

And I sit here, staring at my Christmas candle and all I can come up with to answer this question is…

“I don’t know”.

And it kind of feels like I am the only single solitary person in the entire world who doesn’t know.

But that’s where I am. I am wrestling and praying and seeking and sorting. Apparently I am slow to draw conclusions. Because after all that,

I still don’t know.

I know what I’m called to do personally, but I don’t know if that applies to a country.

I know that perfect love casts out all fear, but I know there is a difference between fear and wisdom.

I know that we are called to love the least of these but I don’t always know what real love looks like.

I know that I want to open my arms and just love the whole wide world in one big group hug, but that I am never called to step outside of His Holy Spirit guidance and I am to always listen to His “hows and whens”.

And I know that we have to be wise and discerning in the midst of unprecedented terrorism, but missing Jesus and His call is FAR more terrifying.

And I know that being welcoming might make us vulnerable, but that willing vulnerability is one of the best conduits of grace.

And I know that there are people out there who really do want to hurt us, but Jesus let his enemies hurt him all the way to the Cross so he could die for the very ones who put Him there.

And I know that the darkest day in history was really God’s greatest victory and things aren’t always what they seem.

And I know that above all,

Jesus knows.

So I am going to sit here for a bit in this space. I’m going to surrender my “I don’t knows” to the God of all the answers AND the questions and humbly ask him to show me what He wants of me. And I’m going to pray that I have the ears to hear. And I’m going to beg for wisdom. He promises to give it to those who ask.

For those of you who feel crystal clear on this issue, I know how frustrating an “I don’t know” can sound. Forgive me that I’m not more clear. I know I’m risking making a lot of people on BOTH sides angry. But I’m taking a chance that  maybe I’m not the only one who doesn’t know.

And if so, this post is for you and we’re in this together :)  And I’m praying for us both.

 

 

Share

20151017_125825

 

So it’s been a while since I’ve officially confessed something here, and given the name of my website, this is unacceptable. So here’s one:

I have a horribly underdeveloped  way of dealing with vacations. I am (not at all metaphorically) a 4 year old child when it comes to vacations. Because…

1) I absolutely LOVE them. The first time I got to visit Disney World with my children, I thought my heart was going to explode under the enormous weight of SHEER JOY. I have to give a shout out to my mother and father in law here who SIGNIFICANTLY contributed to it being the best experience EVER…largely because of their meticulous planning, generosity and saint-like patience holing up with me and my Littles for 10 days. The experience was also awesome, well, because Disney. But I may or may not have been more excited in Disney World than my kids. I wore Mickey Ears, volunteered for the story book times and was shamefully giddy upon meeting Princess Belle (my all time FAVE). All in all, I would say vacations totally ROCK. BUT….

2) I absolutely HATE returning from vacations. This is the part where my maturity level really takes an disconcerting dip. Most adults can go on a vacation, enjoy themselves, then (albeit perhaps begrudgingly) return to their normal lives without missing much of a beat. I, however, am known to shed a few tears during re-entry. I’ve never met a cold breeze I hate more than the one that rises up to greet you on the jet-way immediately after exiting a plane that had JUST HOURS BEFORE been in paradise.  I think I can FEEL the serotonin levels drop. My hubby and I once won a trip to Florida back in college.  I was already tearing up on the plane before we ever even returned home. In my despair, I’m pretty sure I vowed to never go on vacation again because the ending of them is just too much too bear. Read the rest of this entry »

Share

With all the revelations swirling around social media this week, I thought this might be a good time to share more about my recent journey in my own faith and how it could relate to current events today.

One thing is becoming clear…our country is at war with itself. Rather than the UNITED states of America, it feels like we’ve been reduced to a laundry pile of ideas. Conservatism, liberalism, feminism, fundamentalism, traditionalism, consequentialism, socialism. Many of us spend much of our time just trying to separate the lights from the darks…trying desperately to figure out what goes where….so we can clean it up, make it shine again.

We elevate stories that support certain piles and pass by stories that don’t. We ridicule those in our dark piles and exonerate those in our light piles. We are vigilant to make sure the lines stay clear. We all know what happens when a dark green shirt gets into the pile of whites…No lime green here, thank you very much.

This is a lot of what my “crisis of faith” felt like. Before this time, my faith had been solid and relatively simple. After years of wandering when I was younger, I had re-discovered the truth about Jesus and jumped in with both feet. From that point on the results spoke for themselves, and I discovered that He knew what He was talking about. Everything always happened exactly as He said it would. He knew something about humanity that no else did…and following him made my life…cleaner somehow.

I don’t like laundry. My life feels more ordered when everything is folded and in their proper piles. And I liked my faith just like that. No room for doubt or nuance. No messiness complicating the task. Just neat and clean. For a long time I got away with that.

And then, by the grace of God, all of that fell apart. My world opened up faster than I could organize it, and the laundry started piling up. I have ALWAYS loved engaging with people who think differently than me, but suddenly that desire was at an all time high and I began reading books and watching videos…exploring other systems of thought. What began as a sincere desire to simply understand others’ points of view soon developed into a three year journey of laundry sorting.  Because the more I learned, the harder it became to see the light from the dark and make my quick, easy piles. There was more nuance, more logic, more truth in all of these ideas than I had expected.

And that led to questions…then more questions. I had come unraveled…and it was horribly uncomfortable.  There were times I felt so out of control. Times when I doubted everything. I prayed. I cried. I begged God to return the reassurance I once had. I read, I studied, I searched for a solid foundation to rebuild. But even after I had found satisfying answers to most of my intellectual questions, I still knew I was missing something. And I knew somehow that whatever it was would have to come from God…because I had come to the end of myself. And so I waited.

It was in this season of waiting that my good friend surprised me with an amaryllis bulb for Christmas. She told me to plant it with my kids and in a few weeks it would bloom into a beautiful red flower that we could all enjoy. She sensed my hesitation and quickly said “Don’t worry these things are impossible to kill”.

If there’s one thing I learned through my faith crisis it was never say never.

I followed the directions and planted the flower just as they had instructed. I had done my part, now it was out of my hands and all that was left was faith. Faith that it would turn out the way it was supposed to. Faith that there would be life on the other side of this planting, sowing.

So we watched. And we waited.

And of course, three weeks later there was nothing. My friend came over and shared in my disappointment. “Oh bummer! Wonder why it never bloomed!” As we both stared at the lifeless pile of dirt with perplexed expressions, I couldn’t help but feel a bit cynical. The similarities were humorous and annoying.

But then one day, a little sprout.

Seemingly out of nowhere. Weeks after I had long given up on that plant to do much of anything, it was there. Bursting through the dirt, carrying with it a little promise that somewhere in the void, something new was going to spring forth.

Did I dare believe it?

I remember sharing this with Ryan…feeling so vulnerable to even admit it.

“I think maybe God is speaking to me through this little flower…showing me that he’s going to pull me out of this. Maybe this is a sign that I’m going to “bloom” again?”

I felt silly even saying it. And I felt sad that I felt silly. Because there was a day when I would never have questioned it. It was JUST like God to speak to me through a flower, wasn’t it?  He had done stuff like that ALL THE TIME. My life had been one giant miracle. But I was so full of doubt. All the wandering in the wasteland had taken its toll. I was weary and my hope was small.

Ryan’s response didn’t help.

“Well then I sure hope that flower blooms because I don’t think your faith can take it if it shrivels up and dies now!”

I had to laugh. In many ways he was right. But I began to let myself believe and just hoped beyond all hope that that flower was going to bloom. Because something about that flower was reminding me of a truth I had since forgotten.

There’s no escaping faith.

You can do your part, you can study, read, analyze, question…you can make your neat little piles…you can plant, water, and watch.  But there are no clear answers to every question. At some point you just have to let go and trust. We all inevitably put our faith in something, don’t we?

Weeks went on and that little sprout grew stronger every day, taller and taller. And so did I. I could feel life surging back through every fiber of my being. I could feel myself resting again. This vigilant laundry sorter was taking comfort and finding hope, even in the midst of the piles.

And then one day I went to the kitchen and looked up at the little sprout…

2015-03-17 15.52.16

I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. Tears began streaming down my face as I realized exactly what it was God was trying to tell me.

Jesus.

All the wandering, worrying, searching, questioning, All the piles, all the mess, all the confusion. All the “isms”, all the light, dark and lime green….

and then there’s Jesus.

That sprout didn’t represent me and my faith. It was about Jesus. Whether my faith was puny or great, Jesus was still true. And that truth didn’t rest on my ability to believe it. In all of my searching, I had lost sight of the most important thing. Whether I’m certain or doubtful, weak or strong, Jesus still IS. All my questioning brought me right back to what I had always known, but was afraid to trust.

Jesus is the only truth that can cut through the pile of dirt and bring life. He’s the only truth that can resurrect a flailing faith and make it strong.

And He’s the only truth that can sort through this mess we’re currently in. After all, whether we want to believe it or not, the only thing that can be said about all these piles is that they are all dirty. We are all broken, we are all flailing….a thousand different sides of the same coin.  The best gift my season of doubt ever gave me is that I’m now more certain of that than I’ve ever been.

We are all in this together. Every time I selfishly speak a harsh word to my kids and crush a piece of their spirit…..Every time I point out someone else’s mistake to make myself feel better or prop myself up with my own self-righteousness…

Every time I put my faith in myself instead of Christ.

There is no neat pile of lights and darks, blacks and whites. It’s not possible to sift through the mess and make predictable, comfortable little categories.

We are all lime green.

And when we fail to admit that, it leads us to the same dirty laundry pile of self righteousness we can’t stand when we see it in others. And when we trample on the innocence of Christ – the ONLY one who was without sin – and selfishly do what seems right in our own eyes…it’s a dirty laundry pile of self worship. Can we all stop warring with each other and surrender instead? Not one side to another…but rather arm in arm before the throne of grace??

If there is anything I have learned through this three year journey it’s that I have much to learn. But I know ONE thing that’s true, that has never failed, that shows up just when you least expect it and most need it. One thing that slices through the noise of religion and irreligion…of hypocrites and self worship…of brokenness and need and lime green humanity.One thing that all my wandering always seems to point back to…

Jesus.

He’s the realest thing I’ve ever hoped in and our country needs Him desperately.

We just need to have a little faith.

Isaiah 43:19

Behold, I am doing a new thing; now it springs forth, do you not perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert

 

 

Share

beaten path

 

OK…so I guess now is the time for one of those more “serious” posts that I don’t want to write but feel compelled to write. I recently posted an article ( a rant really) on my personal facebook page regarding the transformation of Bruce (Caitlyn) Jenner. Despite its “ranty” nature, it contained some interesting discussion points on issues regarding femininity, beauty, and the culture’s view of both. I appreciated the issues he raised and thought some were valid…or at least worthy of discussion. I posted it mainly to get people’s thoughts (which I knew I would most certainly get!) The problem is that I don’t typically support this author and have found his writing often to be disrespectful and a bit careless. This article was no exception. I appreciate being direct, but you can still do so with kindness. This author has made me angry on more than one occasion by his harsh tone. It’s just not my style.

But I overlooked all of this in this instance and posted the article anyway. I gave fair warning of its nature and made it clear I only supported certain points he was making. But at the end of the day, I regret posting it…because I don’t ever want to compromise grace and compassion for truth. I’m sorry for anyone that it hurt.  I removed the post because I felt that any truth that might be found in it was going to be WAY overshadowed by everything else this author represents…and that’s not what I want. I also didn’t want people to wrongly assume I was partnering with this author in all of his opinions. And I did this based on my own convictions not because of pressure from anyone else.  Read the rest of this entry »

Share

paper

 

So it’s been like 147 years since I’ve written. Apparently, I took an unintentional extended vacay…and many mini-vacays before that.

So much has happened  in the past few years. We moved again. My three big kids are all in school full time. And…they are called “big kids” now because we added ANOTHER baby to our family.

I am being reminded why I started this blog in the first place. And it’s basically because babies make you nutso and writing helps me cope. And I do love it. Like a lot.

And I hate it a li’l bit too.

I’ve been wondering for a while why it’s gotta be such a love/hate thing for me.  And why the “hate” part took over and caused me to hit the pause button for so long.  There are probably many little reasons I’m unaware of, but here are the Big Few.

Read the rest of this entry »

Share

I hesitate to even write this as there are millions of voices already clamoring to be heard in the midst of this devastating tragedy. And the more talking there is, the noisier it gets.

And the harder it is to listen.

I am not a politician, nor am I a member of the NRA. I don’t understand much about mental illness, especially the shadowed corners of a human mind that can carry out something so evil.

I am a mother. I am a mother who welcomed her 1st grader home from school on Friday with grief in my eyes.  She asks me what’s for snack. I stare at her Tinkerbell backpack and hold in sobs. For my child, life goes on like any other day. And yet for others…

“WHY is this happening?!” we cry.

And we are pummeled with answers: Gun control, mental illness, policy, religion….our hearts cry out for restitution and relief, while our minds struggle to analyze and problem-solve. Similar to the 9-11 tragedy, we begin looking for a way to rebuild.

But with so many opinions, where do we start? Read the rest of this entry »

Share

 

Anyone who’s ever gone through a busy season knows that it can feel like the world is spinning so fast you’re going to get seasick. I often find myself in these seasons unintentionally, as I pack my life to the margins and work it out so everything fits “just so”…but neglect to leave any room to accommodate surprises  – both good and bad alike.

This is the place I find myself in today, trying to catch my breath. If my life was pushed to the margins a couple of months ago, I’m certain I’m a few surprises past the margins by now. Read the rest of this entry »

Share

 

So I decided I’m boycotting Mother’s Day next year. Can I do that?

Here’s the reason. For two years in a row now, I’ve had a less than stellar Mother’s Day. I know, I know…how is that possible when you have the best family on the planet?!

Well I can start by telling you what is NOT to blame. It has nothing to do with all that mumbo jumbo about having unrealistic expectations in regards to holidays. You know the whole idea about how we women put so much pressure on the day that it inevitably fails to live up to our high hopes?

No, no …THAT is a rookie mistake that only newlyweds make. It only took me a few years to learn that you’re not supposed to expect too much,…that way you can be really knocked out when something goes awesomely.  Once I let go of hopes that my husband would hire someone to skywrite, “You’re the world’s best mother” across the horizon during a sunset dinner, things began to go much more smoothly.

So that’s not the problem. The PROBLEM is that life does not care what the calendar says. Apparently, all of the things that make ANY day a bad day can happen any time, including on holidays. Things like, oh I don’t know, being overtired, having cranky kids, getting behind in laundry, housecleaning, and yardwork…and really wanting to hang out with your family, but secretly wishing you could just take a nap.

As nice as it would be for the universe to refrain from dishing out my serving of “bad day” until after a holiday has passed, sadly it does not. And for two years in a row now, I experienced a very “normal” bad day that just so happened to fall on Mother’s Day. Now we have a problem. Experiencing a bad day on Mother’s Day can make us feel really ripped off as though the universe isn’t cooperating. Does it not understand that this is MOTHER’S DAY?! I only get ONE DAY A YEAR for crying out LOUD!

So THAT is the reason why I have decided to boycott Mother’s Day. I’m through with trying to put it in such a little box, because it’s too big to fit there anyway. Instead, I think it makes more sense to look for Mother’s Days all along the way. Like in Alice in Wonderland where they celebrate “un-birthdays”.

Perhaps I’ll be surprised when it shows up next week when my daughter tells me I’m “the best mommy ever” for no particular reason. Or maybe it will be when I catch my son sleeping in just the right position so I can see his lips all scrunched up, and he’s in a deep enough sleep that I can kiss him without waking him up. Or when my kids do something hysterical and crack me up just when I need it most. Or eat their vegetables.

Or maybe Mother’s Day will be this winter, when we have a picnic under the dining room table because it’s  freezing outside…and my husband takes my hand and says, “Thank you for being the mother of my children…you really do rock”.

Yep. I’m pretty sure we’re all selling ourselves short if we focus on just one day a year. So let’s not. There are too many great days out there that will qualify as a Happy Mother’s Day. Let’s soak ’em up so we don’t miss a single one.

Who cares what that stinkin’ calendar says? :)

Share

Today I’m a guest blogger at Laura Kroko’s website, Beholding Glory. She is a mother three children and the author of a bible study called, “Beholding Him, Becoming Missional”. I just finished leading 20 women through the study at my church and it was GREAT!!

This post is a part of a series Laura is doing called “Creation revealing the Glory of God”. Be sure to subscribe to her blog so you can see all the posts in this series! To see my guest post, please click  HERE!

 

Share
Follow Me!
Suscribe Via Email

Contributing Writer at:
Missional Women
Archives