Monday, February 13, 2012

My "To-Do" List

Yesterday, my dog got to do what he was born to do: chase ducks, geese and swans. Yes, I said swans. All these birds were in a pond. In a cemetery. He got off his leash AND collar. Ran away from Emily and her friend. And happily leaped into frigid water to follow his doggie instinct. Emily called us frantically. We arrived to find our almost 2 year old puppy swimming after water fowl to his hearts content. If we weren't so concerned with how on earth we were going to get him out (calling him did NOT work), we would've laughed ourselves silly. Plus, we were worried the 5-0 might show. I don't think it's ok for dogs to swim in a cemetery pond and chase water fowl...at night especially. At some point (1/2 hour later) he crawled up to the embankment and his "daddy" grabbed his tail and held on tight. After a warm bath he settled down with some contentment, I'm sure dreaming of swans.

Today, I started thinking about what I was born to do. Certainly not to camp. UGH. Most assuredly not to have boys...hahahahaha. (attempt at humor) So what is it?

Recently, I have had a run in with someone I have to "work" with. And it's continuous. I am being bullied. It's a difficult situation. I have no choice, I must work with this person....often. So in this case, I am meant to love her. I don't have to like it, she doesn't have to like it...but I have to do it. We are called to love our brothers and sisters. And she is, a sister. That makes it harder. Harder to endure and tougher to even WANT to love her. I'm trying.

At 17, when I became a mother, I still had plans for my life. I was going to be "someone". As the children continued coming, all that got pushed aside. As a SAHM, while people say it's "noble", there is often a "but" attached. It's like people think SAHMs cease intellectually. And so I started feeling like there must be MORE. I should be doing something ELSE. Never mind that I was in AWANA, teaching Sunday School and "Cooking Mom" for a kindergarten class. Forget that I made dinner every night, did laundry and still went to volleyball games. (yes, Hillary. We went to EVERY game) I still felt like I should be doing MORE. I felt like there was a specific SOMETHING and I was missing it. I imagined my life was one big trip across the ocean and I had missed the boat. I was swimming to catch up.

And then one day, I swam right into an island. God said to me "You're raising my children." Peace settled my heart, His voice lingered in my ear. He was right. I was reminded that they aren't MINE. These daughters. They are HIS! And He wanted ME, didn't graduate, scarlet letter, upside down ME to raise them up. OH MY GOODNESS! I was doing what I was meant to do!

I may not always do it right. There are days when I question His judgement on why He thought I would be a good mother to these girls. I mean they. ARE. AMAZING. And I don't always feel worthy of that amazing-ness. Yet, as I sat in church this past Sunday, I thought about how much different they could be. More like me as a teen, or more like some people who shall remain nameless. There could be many different things they could be trying, doing etc. But they haven't. I pray that my pattern of sin stop with me. And I see God honoring my heart for the girls. No, they don't always make wise choices and just recently I've started praying that when one of them practices deceit, God would cause her pain. (mean, I know) Yet...truly we are blessed. We are honest with our daughters, we laugh with them and we cry. We apologize when we are wrong. And we know that if the worst thing they do is dye their hair or pierce something, we've got it good. Golly, even tattoos are better than some alternatives!

So what I'm meant to do it this: love, laugh, discipline, grow, learn, teach, cry....and so forth. I am blessed to have a fantastic partner on this journey...he helps keep me grounded. Also, I am blessed to have an Author who loves me so much and believed in me even before I was born. These daughters are a gift...I'm glad I never saw it any other way.


I wish I could've taken a picture of Murphy, the wonder dog. Funnier still was Matty running around the inside of the fence trying to catch the slippery fellow....but don't tell him I said that.....

1 comment:

  1. Sweet. I get it. Very poignant. Thanks.

    I think that motherhood becomes Motherhood when we allow God (NOT the world) to define who we are.

    I also hope that my kids will learn from my mistakes and not repeat them.

    It's not a boring job, whatever else it is.

    Crazy dog!

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