How I Began To Feel Free: Busyness

March 13, 2015March 13, 20152 Comments

I recently read the article, Busy Is A Sickness on Huffington Post Parents by Scott Dannemiller. As I read the article I can’t help but whisper the word “yes” aloud as I relate to every word.

I have the sickness too. It is the tendency of my heart to be discontent with just being.

Two years ago I attended a training and two women stood in front of the large group. One woman held her two hands into the air to illustrate the image of a small person trying to hold up a big world. She simply asked the question, “What happens when you let go?”

I gasped and externally processed the shocking truth of how I see myself. I replied in shock, “The world would fall on me. The world will crush me if I let go.”

It was in that moment that I heard out loud the way I view myself. I see myself as big. I see myself as the one who holds up the world.

I wasn’t able to feel free from the heavy yoke of busy until I realized I was small. Even when I let go of my world, it will still keep spinning. I was able to feel freedom from the weight of busyness when I finally recognized the simple truth: I don’t hold up the world.

So I put my hands down for an entire year. (How Saying No Is Leading Me To More Yes) I gave up the extras. I let the sign up sheet pass by when it was time to sign up for room mom and Sunday School teacher, small group leader, and hosting events.

It was hard to take a year and watch the world spin without me having my hands in the things I love but it was a great opportunity to reflect on my heart that is bent toward the busyness I control. When I was able to let go and put my hands down, the world did not fall apart. God brought in people even more talented than I could ever be to lead small groups, teach Sunday School and sign up to be classroom coordinator. When I put my hands down, God kept the world moving and God raised up stronger leaders.

When I realized the world would keep on moving without my name on the sign up list, I could breathe and for one year I just tried to focus on the very important things God has already given to me: my faith, my marriage and my children. In that year I was able to focus on the things that do in fact suffer when I am too busy to pay attention to them.

I went on more dates with my husband, I yelled the word “hurry” less and I just enjoyed my children without all the extras.

This year I have found my name back on the sign up list. I am teaching Sunday School, leading a small group and I am the classroom coordinator for my son’s kindergarten class. After a year of realizing I don’t hold up the world I have been able to come back and serve with a heart that sees myself with a proper lens: I am small. The year off has enabled me to hold onto the extras a little more loosely.

I am teaching Sunday School with two other amazing women.

I am leading a small group with a team of women.

I am a small classroom coordinator that hands out a sign up sheet for the other parents to lead the games, crafts and snacks at the class parties.

I am a small person inviting others into my life to come alongside and help me.

Busy Is a Sickness. I will always have it and I will always struggle with the pangs of busyness unless I fight to see myself with the proper lens.

Who holds up your world? Will you allow yourself to feel free?

The Mark Of A Mother

March 10, 2015March 11, 2015Leave a comment

Today as I was sitting in the bright white room at the doctor’s office talking to my beloved pediatrician about my fifteen month old daughter at her well check up, my daughter dug her nails into the exposed skin below my neckline and drug her hands passed my heart all the way down to the squared neckline of my green Old Navy tee.

An hour after the incident.

I swore I was bleeding. I kept talking to my pediatrician but, at the same time, checking the part of my upper chest for blood. My daughter was smiling as she as she hurt me but I still swear that sweet child of mine may have been out for blood.

I have a bleeding heart for my children. I love them so much it hurts.

Mothers are just like that. All mothers. Breastfeeding mothers, bottle feeding mothers, working mothers, stay at home mothers, organic mothers and drive thru mothers. I am or know all of those kinds of mothers so I know its true.

We all have bleeding hearts for our kids. We all love them so much it hurts.

When my daughter straight up assaulted me in front of our pediatrician I literally gasped in pain but then smiled and went about our regular check up. I also probably kissed my daughter and told her how much I loved her as we left the office more than I can even count.

The Mark of a Mother is deeper than the marks on their skin or their ego. The Mark of a Mother loves the unloveable. The Mark of a Mother takes the pain inflicted from a sweet child and says,

I don’t care how much you just hurt me, I still want to smooch your face off.

The Mark of a Mother knows our days are few.

You know you are a mother when the pain from your child, the blood on your hands of the stain on your ego does not change your love for them. The love for a child from a mother is unconditional and never ending.

The Mark of a Mother feels the pain and loves anyway.

That is the dangerous calling we have all been given. To love in the hurt. It is natural for us to do so. That is the Mark of a Mother.

Today when I checked out at the receptionist’s desk she gasped, Did someone scratch you?

I nodded, yeah. Kids do things like this.

I really don’t care. Of course, I want my children to grow to respect me but even if they don’t (and that could happen) even if they continue to scratch the surface of my heart… I will love them with a ferocious love anyway.

You hear that kids, no matter what you try to do to hurt me, I love you and I will try to smooch your face off anyway.

This is the Mark of a Mother.

I see you moms and know you have that ferocious Mark of a Mother too.

More Than Cute

March 4, 2015March 6, 2015Leave a comment

Disclaimer: This post is about rethinking the way we as people speak to others. How our speech forms how others view themselves and how the words I’ve heard have shaped me as a woman.

I have been a girl mom for fifteen months. With boys the phrase that comes up often is “you’ve got your hands full.” I have written about this before and have received comments about how people are not meaning any harm and I should respond in love. I hear you. I want you to know I have never back-handed anyone or snarled at the ones rolling their eyes at me or shaking their heads and sighing when they see me with my three sons so close together. My sons do not cause me trouble nor are they inconveniences to me but they are, each and every one of them, a precious gift.

This post and the peeling back of responses to children in culture is more about an aching heart for how we see and respond to others. How we can give a voice to the little dear ones in our strollers and our grocery carts. How we as grown ups can reform ourselves, grow and be better when we engage people out in the world.

I don’t think I have heard the phrase “you’ve got your hands full” since my post They Can Hear You went bananas last summer and basically broke the internet. That is a win for me. So here it goes with my latest thoughts about speech… I have been a girl mom for fifteen months and there is a new phrase I am rethinking. It is a phrase we all use and a phrase that bubbles out of our months when we see a little girl approaching our path, “she is so cute.”

Cute. C-U-T-E. attractive, especially in a dainty way; pleasingly pretty

This is an overwhelmingly kind comment. I actually use it all the time when I see girls of all kinds. Cute shoes, cute hair, cute shirt. I remember being on vacation one year in Florida and I had seen some family there who were vacationing in the Sunshine State at the same time. I remember running into a particular younger family member, she was maybe seven at the time, and I used these exact words to connect with her. “You are so cute.” Her father quickly interjected and said, “She is also very smart and very kind.”

I was taken back. I didn’t understand his rebuttal back then but I do now.

It seems as if we as people are very quick to comment on the outward appearances of especially women and we forget to see what God sees, the inward beauty that is not fleeting but is everlasting.

Being cute, dainty and pretty will eventually come and go and on that day the women and the girls we have been complimenting on their cuteness will be left wondering, who am I? But inner beauty cannot be matched. Courage, boldness, intelligence, a heart for the Lord, kind, important and loved. Those are the things we should be fighting to say to those sweet girls that will one day be women when they cross our path in that grocery store.

I love dressing my daughter in ribbons, bows and smocked dresses. She loves standing next to me while I put on my makeup and she likes to brush the make up brush on her face and say “pretty.” I am not calling for a strike against girliness, I love being girly. However, I am wondering about how I can build my daughter up with other words, words other than cute.

Currently, when we hear the phrase, “she is so cute” I always respond, “she is VERY loved.” And she is. Who wouldn’t be in a family with three big brothers?

L-O-V-E-D: held in deep affection; cherished

As a woman in my thirties I would much rather be cherished than the words dainty and cute. Cherished feels more secure than dainty.

I want my daughter and all of the daughters in our homes to know from the beginning that they are more than their appearance, their bows, or the outfits they are rocking on that day.

All of our daughters are loved, cherished, kind, smart, important, accepted and loved by The Most High God. Let’s saturate our compliments for little girls with truths they can take with them into eternity.

Cute and dainty are the outward things that man sees. Let’s try to fight to see the inward beauty that God sees. For a more confident generation: will you walk with me in reshaping the way we rotely respond to our sisters… young and old?

Love Your Kids In Every Language

February 14, 2015Leave a comment

I tried to get in all the love languages this week as we celebrated the gift of love and Valentine’s Day.

Acts of Service:

Today, I made all their beds, laid out their clothes and I cleaned up their dishes for them instead of their normal routine of taking them to the sink. I would add, “Of course I will do that for you. I love you.”

Words of Affirmation:

During meals this week I tried to be very intentional to get everyone talking about what they loved or thought was special about each member of our family. We have started to do this on birthdays too. This is a great way to show love to those who love words to fill their love tank. “What do you love about ______?” is a simple way to start this around the dinner table.

Quality Time:

My grandma was kind enough to send books for Valentine’s Day this year so I spent quality time reading to each of them separately. We have four small kids so one-on-one time feels like winning the powerball lottery to some of my kids. My husband also tried to make time to spend quality time playing video games with the boys. My oldest two really value time with their parents. You can see me below reading with Asher, my second child.

Touch:

Most of my kids are lovey kids. I did my best to give extra hugs and kisses and snuggles on the couch during this cold winter day. My three year old loves me to “hold him and walk” so I know touch is important to him. Although he is over thirty pounds I tried to carry him a little more today. I want to communicate love to each of my four children in their language as best I can. I tried to tell him today, “You are my Valentine, and I love you, of course I will hold you and walk.”

Gifts:

Of course we did the gifts. I was thankful to find four different giant stuffed animals at Kroger for $9.00 a piece. We skipped cards and other things so the stuffed animals and a tiny box of chocolates was well within our Valentine’s Day budget. It was fun to watch their different reactions to the gifts.

And I’m watching…

Part of why I am trying to love my kids in every language is because I am trying to figure out what best expresses love to each of them. I’m always watching and observing, trying to figure out who smiles more at the words of affirmation and who sits and snuggles a little longer than the others. I want to know my kids through and through and know how they love is apart of knowing who they will become as people, as friends, husbands and wives.

I’m being intentional and watching because I want my kids to know and never doubt how much they are loved.

So we love in every language until we get it right.

And They Lived Happily Ever After (A Sequel)

February 4, 2015February 4, 2015Leave a comment

(an old post made new)

Oh Cinderella, how I love to watch you and you Prince Charming drive off in that royal carriage. And then ah! to see the words on the last page of your storybook, “and they lived happily ever after.” As a young child and even as a young woman the last pages of your story helped me write the beginning pages of my future love story.

I know there are sequels to Cinderella but I always stopped at the ending of Cinderella’s first story, which left this girl wondering, What is happily ever after?

For as long as I can remember I built the beginning of my real life love story on those happy ending words. Where Me, Mrs., and Him, Mr., mostly made googley eyes, packed our bags for romantic getaways and the two of us together had mind reading powers and effortless communication.

In my happily ever after, I built up the image of the smiling and the kissing and the frolicking off into the sunset.

Now I’ve been married for almost nine years, which is not that long, but it is long enough to know my perceived happily ever after was as real as the story where I initially found the phrase.

My assumptions about what marriage could be like came from the pages of storybooks and off of the silver screens where the authors and screen writers seem to leave out the mundane everydayness of what happens in real marriage.

In When Sinners Say I Do, my favorite book on marriage, Dave Harvey writes about how every Jane Austen movie is the same.

The stories all end at the altar, just when reality is about to come knocking. Romance movies are about the dizzying tornado of romantic love picking you up in its whirling funnel and setting you down at the chapel doors all giddy and beautifully dressed.

(page 136)

Almost nine years of marriage and FOUR children later I have come to realize that my expectations for happily ever after were crazy and unreachable. Happily ever after was just a phrase, and I am no Cinderella and as much as I love my sweet husband, he is not a cliche character in a fairy tale.

My husband is a man, and I am a woman. We are both made in the image of God but at the same time our hearts are fallen, our desires are naturally bent to serve ourselves before we serve one another.

The true story about love that I should have been looking to all along was the story of Jesus and the rescued people who trust in Him for redemption.

Yes, fairytales and other media leave out the everydayness of marriage. But real marriage, two people choosing to come together in the not-so-theatrical moments is more romantic than those first giddy butterfly feelings. To choose love when you are a sleep deprived testy new parent is an everyday heroic gift you can give to your spouse. To choose dating which sometimes means dragging yourself away from crying toddlers is the mundane everydayness where you can find happily ever after.

It just doesn’t look as polished as I though it would. Marriage can have rough patches. And marriage just won’t work without looking to Jesus.

The Bible is a love story of God continually rescuing people and wooing them to Himself. In the Bible you find people who do not deserve love being loved and people being rescued even when they didn’t deserve the rescuing.

For a long time I let the world shape what I though marriage should be and I tried to cram myself and Michael into that hole. In the past and still sometimes today I drink from the “happily married” cistern.

I’ve written about cisterns before, they are a huge part of the story of how God is redeeming me personally. A cistern in the time of the Bible is a large jug that people used to hold water and give life and an end to thirst. Today some people call cisterns, idols. Normally cisterns or idols are good things. But they become all consuming when we worship the good gift more than the Giver of the gift.

“My people have committed two sins: They have forsaken me, the spring of living water, and have dug their own cisterns, broken cisterns that cannot hold water.”

(Jeremiah 2:13)

I drank from the “happily ever after marriage” cistern. Sometimes I still find myself doing it and then I am still left feeling empty and unsatisfied.

Marriage can be a good thing. Marriage is a gift. But no one should ever find themselves worshipping the gift more than the Giver. That is when the thirst comes.

There are times when I value the gift of marriage more than the Giver of marriage. In The Meaning of Marriage, Tim Keller writes,

If we look to our spouses to fill up our tanks in a way that only God can do, we are demanding an impossibility. (page 52)

At times, I have depended on my marriage to fill up my tank. I believed that if Michael and I could just be more happily ever after, if we could just try harder, we would be better.

All that working and spinning of the try harder wheels left me exhausted.

When we were first married and even still now, I lacked the eyes of the gospel. The eyes that see the Giver and the gift in the proper order. And the eyes of the gospel that see me, a woman and my husband, a man, two normal people needing, craving, seeking the grace of Jesus. Every moment of every day.

I see now that I was depending on a “happily ever after” marriage to fill up my tank and make me happy. And I know now that in my fallen sinful heart I still have the tendency to do this. With the eyes of the gospel I have found that happily ever after marriage is not meant to be perfect. Nothing on this side of heaven will ever be perfect except Jesus and how he is weaving our marriage story, unraveling the bad expectations and threading the new. In this life of a normal woman and a normal man living life together I have found that “happily ever after” marriage is perfecting when I stop looking to the gift alone to fill me up and see the Giver and his grace He has given to me in Jesus.

Only God is perfect, and as we pursue Him together He is perfecting us, even when neither of us deserved His love in the first place.

As Mr. and Mrs., Michael and I are both on a journey together of simply learning how to love one another better and most importantly reflect glory and dependance upon God to our watching children and the world.

We mess this up a lot. But we are thankful for the forgiveness and grace that is found in a marriage where two people depend on Jesus. Extending and receiving grace.

So I can now breathe. I can stop trying to cram myself and my husband into this thought up expectation of “happily ever after”.

I can stop trying and start depending.

I am thankful that I am married to a man that believes in extending grace. Oh Lord, the grace my husband extends me is like that extra long swifter duster extender that finds all the tough to reach places. I have so many tough to reach places.

Happily ever after is not frolicking in meadows, it is frolicking in grace.

As you think about love this month, think about how things from stories and movies may bring unrealistic expectations into marriage and consider getting rid of the unachievable expectations and finding deep breaths in Jesus.

Please pass this on too.

Always dancing in this gospel dance with you.