Tuesday, June 25, 2013

This One

This One is a little different. This One, I'm going to talk about being a mom.

First, it's hard. When you're expecting, no one tells you how hard it's going to be. No one tells you that labor hurts and that when your sweet angel is 2, you will be in a state of constant motion. You will wash her face multiple times a day, pull things out of her ears, wipe her little fanny and pray for a moment of quiet. When she's 5, you'll be sad as she goes to school....then secretly dance around the living room, enjoying the brief time of alone-ness. When she's 10, you will be befuddled by her erratic behavior. Your sweet, unassuming girl has just become a crier, a yeller and a stomper. When she's 16, your heart will break when hers does. You will threaten to hurt that boy and you will cry with her and for her. You will yell at her as she yells at you. When she's 18 and graduating high school, you'll realize that although you knew this day would come, you never really thought it would. And then.....it just moves on from there.

Second, it's amazing. When your angel is 2, the whole world is new. Everything is worthy of inspection, every word a delight. You won't want to stop moving....or sleep. You might miss something. When she is 5, you will cry as she rides the bus for the first time, you will love the art she brings home....the way she looks at you as she discovers something new. When she is 10, your heart will break a little as you realize she's becoming a woman....and you'll celebrate with her. You'll enjoy this new girl, the one who looks at you as though you actually KNOW something. When she's 16, she'll cling to you a little more, and she'll realize that your hugs are the best. She'll laugh when you threaten that boy and she will know you mean it. At 18, she's technically a grown up. She carries herself with pride, knows the Lord and has grown so very much. Your heart will burst with pride.

Third, being a mom doesn't mean a child born of your body. There are so many women in our girls' lives that "mother" them...ie: LOVE them. And there are so many kids that call me mom....and I love each of them immensely. I don't know what my life would be without these teens. Good golly! One of them is a BOY! What a blessing he is in my life! And I didn't have to worry about any of his 'parts'....he came to me (almost) fully grown!

Being a mother is hard, it's work. Sometimes, I don't want the job. Sometimes, I want to run away, have a major melt down and just quit my life. Sometimes, I can't handle the eye rolling, angry word saying, stomping, door slamming girls. Sometimes, I look at God and ask Him why he thought I would be a good mom. And then He shows me.

I really wouldn't have it any other way. Can NOT imagine my life without these 6 daughters (and all the others I get the privilege of knowing) and all the moments that make me a mom. Without the pain, the tears or the sorrows.....it wouldn't be the same. All these things, the bad along with the good, are what make motherhood worth doing. It's all a learning experience....and I love it. I would go through every hour of hard labor again....for these same results. It's not always a picnic, and sometimes the bad things are REALLY bad...but God is good. All the time.

This One.....is good. Enjoy the mother moments, the not so great moments and the fun, fabulous moments. Remember to breathe, to hold tight to His hand and to remember that YOU ARE A GOOD MOTHER. He believes it....so should you.

ps....the moving on? Well, I am a grandma. That moment your daughter has a child.....AMAZING.

Saturday, June 15, 2013

Snug Fit

There is a movie about a people group called 'Wemmicks'. It's a sweet tale about God and His love. In this particular movie about these peoples, the 'Wemmicks' have begun wearing green dots and gold stars. Your popularity and "fitting-ness" is determined by the type of stickers you have and how many. The hero of this tale is concerned because he doesn't have enough stickers of a specific kind. His whole life is on hold, his worth set by by others. Then along comes a girl. She has no stickers and when others try to put them on her, they fall off. Our hero asks her why she doesn't have any stickers and she tells him that she doesn't need them. Her worth and value are set by the Creator. And He loves her as she is.

I want to be that non sticker girl. I want to know ALL the time that I am His beloved. I often forget. I stand back and wait for others to talk to me, wait for others to notice me. And when they don't, I convince myself that there is something wrong with me. In short, I don't have enough stickers.

In truth, I hide myself. I hang back, watching to see my opening, my chance. I want to fit and fit snugly. Sometimes, I get so scared, I can't do anything. And then, my worst fears are realized. No one talks to me, no one invites me to sit with them, no one notices if I'm missing. This adds a sticker to my face, covering me in sorrow and silent pain. Of course, it's a green dot. The worst kind. You only get gold stars when you're the OTHER kind of person. And so, in search of a gold star sticker I go. I integrate myself into conversation, try so hard to be outgoing. Inside I am cringing, silently asking them to like me. But there are no gold stars forthcoming. And I am left to wonder what's wrong with me.

Guess what.....there is nothing wrong with me. I may not have the most tact, may not have the best stories, may not fit super snug. But I fit with Him. He created me. I don't have any stickers because I don't need them. I need to pick myself up by my boot straps, realize that to some history represents relationship and move on. I need to remember that He puts specific people in my life, people to love me. And, you anonymous reader, need to remember that it doesn't cost you anything to talk to someone else. That you should step outside your snug fitting space and invite someone to sit with you. Let them know you see them. We talk a lot about serving others, but if we forget that those around us need our 'service' (ie: relationship) then our service is for naught. If we consistently go around adding stickers to our faces, we lose sight of the truth: The Creator didn't create us with green dots or gold stars. He created us in His image and He doesn't want any of us to be lonely or sad. He calls us to love each other. That doesn't mean we have to all be friends, but it doesn't hurt us to stretch a bit....grow and hope all the stickers fall off.

I want to fit where the world things I should. Snug and tight. But here's the deal: I don't. The stickers don't stick because I am His beloved. I am His creation. He sees me in my silent wishing. He sees my tears and knows the pain in my heart. Better than that, He picks me up...dusts me off....peels off the green dots and holds me tight. I may not fit into this world the way the world thinks I should...I fit tight in His arms, though. I fit right in the "Erin" shaped hole in this world, quirky, opinionated and fun. A little emotional (a lot), a smidge loud and very much a girl. I will remember to talk to someone, invite them into my world. I will remember that just because they don't think like I do, they are valued in His eyes. I will remember the time I so desperately wanted to fit and cried when I didn't. I will remember I am stickerless because that's how He made me.

I am His, beloved and whole. Created and blessed. I am a snug fit.

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Behind the Curtain

Behind the curtain is a man pretending to be a wizard. We are meant to pay no attention to him, to ignore his existence and pretend that the wishes are really being granted. Reality check: wishes aren't being granted and the man is just a man.

Behind the curtain of our children is a secret world. They do things we don't know about, keep secrets and make choices we find out about later. They justify what they do based on how they feel, decide to go along with something just because they want to be loved or recognized. They so desire to be accepted they allow things they would've scoffed at earlier. I was one of those children, seeking acceptance any way I could. Seeking love from boys too young to give it, seeking confirmation of my beauty. As I grew up, I swore I wouldn't be one the moms to turn aside, to believe that just because I told them no meant they would listen. I was going to push the curtain aside....I was going to be open and honest.

And I have been. I've been open, honest and involved. Perhaps too involved sometimes. Perhaps so involved that I push friends out of their lives. Perhaps I meddle too much, try to mother the world and their friends too much. Perhaps, in wanting their lives to be different, I've created something worse. I don't know. I don't believe in privacy in our house. I read texts if phones are laying around, notes found on the floor. And believe you me, it's served me well. I have found things out that I may not WANT to know, but in the grand scheme needed to know. In some cases the curtain was ripped right off the rod.

In the grand scheme of things, in this great big world, we have really good girls. They dress modestly, they hold themselves to a high standard, they don't do drugs or drink. And when they slip, they tell on themselves and we talk about it. I may bluster and be really, really mad but in the end, we talk and we cry and we still love eachother. I always felt like I couldn't make a mistake when I was younger, felt I had to be just so in order to be loved. I never felt loved enough. I wanted our girls to know they are loved, so perhaps I went/go overboard on the open/honest thing.


I never mean offense to the young ones in my life...I just want each one to know how valued and treasured they each are. (not just our girls) Our children are by no means perfect. They do mess up...sometimes often. They have issues and struggles and sometimes do NOT seem to think AT ALL. Sometimes, they seem to have lost all common sense. It just goes....flllllllllllp out of their minds. But when that happens, I try to remind them that they are more than the mistakes they make. I don't want them to get stuck....the mud and muck is sometimes hard to get out of. I want them to glide across the mud pit like it's ice.

The girls have said that they like us being involved in their lives. Said they prefer that over the alternative. And when I get worried that it's just too much, they say that perhaps "those" friends weren't really their friends to begin with. I have to remember that there is One who is just as involved. One that loves them more than I, One that sees behind the curtain without having to pull it back. He isn't a wizard, doesn't grant wishes and doesn't pretend to be something other than the great I Am. I can rest knowing that I am doing my best to raise up and teach these girls to stand for themselves, to respect themselves, to honor themselves and know that they are worth more than the world tells them. That they are more than the sum of what society says is beauty, more than what the world would try to convince them they are.

They are His. The curtain is torn.

Wednesday, June 5, 2013

The Everyday Broken

I'm broken. Like Humpty Dumpty. It seems like everything keeps falling down around me, and somewhere along the way I fell too.

Lately I can't do anything right. Not with my kids, my husband, not even with my dog. I cry all the time. My kids tell me how much I do wrong. My husband is just plain busy. My dog is....well, he's just having one thing after another. One girl is trying desperately to go to college. Her financial aid isn't enough to send her. That makes me cry. I hate to think of the girls being sad/disappointed etc. I feel.....all.....shattered.

The everyday broken. I know that's not who I am or who I will always be. It's a moment in time and I just FEEL like I can't breathe, can't function. I thought last year was bad, but at least last year we had some monies to fall back on. Now it's just paycheck to paycheck, hand to mouth. And believe it or not, everything costs monies! Especially a dog who is having one issue after another.

I see broken people all the time. Their eyes are sad, their smiles pretend. I can see their hurting hearts, the sadness that threatens to overwhelm. They answer questions with small answers, real words hiding in their hearts. They hold their sorrow close, hidden from us in the human realm. I know this because I do it too. I wonder when things will change. I pray daily for the Lord to help me with my trust issues, with my picking up my baggage and trying to carry it alone. I lay it all at His feet, then yank it back and cry some more.

What. The. Heck?! Why on earth would I carry those bags when God wants to do it for me? He'll let me pick them up, carry them and stumble under them. Because I am stubborn enough to do it! Reality is: He wants to carry those bags, more than that....He wants to carry me! And I should let Him. Duh!

I may be broken like Humpty Dumpty, but unlike him I'm not wanting the Kings horses and Kings men to put me back together. I'm trusting the King Himself to do it.


It's possible to be everyday broken....without being broken everyday.