The wind is blowing. It's blowing right through my life, shaking things up. Seems like money gets better, then suddenly it's gone. Seems like the kids do well, then suddenly there's a crisis. The winds of change aren't always welcome in my house. I tend to batten down the hatches, gather my chicks and pray that nothing changes at all. I want it all to stay the way it is now. Even with no money and with the girl troubles.
Guess What??! Change happens without my permission. Emily will head back to college, Chellsei will go to college for her freshmen year (ACK!...someone hug me!)and Savannah will be an official middle schooler. 13 is right around the corner for her. Harley hits tween age and Hillary continues to mother Reya and Reya continues to grow. Kaily, (sigh) will study for her SAT's and apply to college for the 14/15 school year. Medical school, folks. Our girl wants to be a surgeon.
Often, when the winds blow, we get scared. We like our rabbit hole. We like our comfort zones and our safety nets. We like to think that the way things are is the way things will be. We make plans and expect to follow them through. But the truth is, there is no plan that truly is our own. And sometimes, He likes to have the wind blow a smidge harder.
My mommy heart is aching. 2 girls moving on, a 3rd getting ready to in a year. My grandma heart rejoices in our grandgirl, yet I know her mommy's heart sorrows every day she gets older. Watching Reya, I don't have the same "please don't change" moments. Every day is a joy to see her grow. But with our own girls....PUH-LEASE....don't let that wind blow through my life! I haven't yet been successful in slowing time down, but that doesn't stop me from trying.
It's funny that it bothers me so much. I am constantly changing my house. There are days Matty comes home and looks around and says "Oh. You rearranged. Again.". Yes, I do it a lot. I also like to paint. (okay, Matty paints, I watch) I'm not against change, I'm just against the change happening with my family life. And therein lies the problem.
I. Am. NOT. In. Charge.
That phrase deserved it's own paragraph. Those winds are going to keep blowing, the change is going to keep happening and my life will get richer and fuller because of it. I need to remember that just because the girls are doing what God intends, (or not, depending on the girl)it doesn't mean that my life is losing anything. In most cases, I'll gain something. Even if it's just experience in a situation.
He IS in charge. His plan is perfect and unfolding in His time. I don't have to like how things change. Don't have to even agree with it. But I do need to trust in Him...and believe that all things will work according to His will. His word says that if He is for us, then who could stand against? More true words were never spoken.
As I finish up, I leave you with these words:
A BEAR ALMOST ATE SAVANNAH. (dumb wind)
Saturday, July 27, 2013
Tuesday, July 16, 2013
In The Beginning
Chatting with an old friend the other night over Facebook, I asked if I had always wanted, or talked about wanting, children. The answer was yes. Looking back, I realize that's very true. The little bits and pieces of my life that I do remember all involve wanting to be a mommy. Maybe it's because I wanted to be loved and I thought that a child would love me all the time. (Um, that is true....BUT there are times they don't act like it!) I'm not saying my parents didn't love me or that God didn't love me. I just didn't grasp what that love was all about.
In the beginning, there was me. I was a pretty girl. I liked the boys and boy did they like me. I was the girl I warn our girls not to be. Getting pregnant at 16, I felt fulfilled. When she was born, I was young and scared. At 17, I was ill prepared to be a mother. When I had the 2nd girl at 20 (almost 21), I wasn't any more prepared....just not as young. Still scared. There is something scary about getting handed a baby and all of a sudden you realize that YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR HER FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. All decisions that are made, all choices, all STUFF....it's all on YOU. ARGH!
Girls 3 and 4 were born within 17 months of each other. Apparently I wasn't feeling loved enough. Actually, having children was the only way I felt complete. I still hadn't quite grasped the whole being loved by God thing. I knew God, trusted God, WAS God's....but didn't allow that to permeate my being. (psssttt....here's a little secret: He created each daughter, so before you start thinking that there were ways to prevent those pregnancies know that in the beginning, He planned on creating them) He was so gracious to me, all these girls.
When I met Matty, I told him that I came with 4 children and I would give him 2. Of course they were girls. That's okay with me, though. Didn't know what I would do with a boy anyways! By the time the Little Bit was born, I wasn't scared. There was that momentary UM when they handed her to me and I once again realized that here was another tiny human that I would have to do right by. And despite our rocky beginning, Matty and I were very settled. I had, sometime during my "living in the pit" time, fully grasped who I was in Christ. I had allowed myself to be bathed in His love and His grace. I had reached and His hand had pulled me up and out. I was forgiven.
I realize that I was looking for His love in our children's faces. In boys' faces. I was trying to fill a hole with temporary things. Because, folks, even your children are temporary. At a certain point, you really AREN'T responsible for what they say and do. They grow up and do things on their own. They learn and love and cry and make mistakes. And I can tell and warn our girls not to be like I was because I realize it wasn't who God created me to be. In the beginning, He knew my name. He also knew the way I would travel and the choices I would make. He also, I reiterate, knew that each girl was going to be born. In fact, He chose their names as well. They were meant to be here, meant to be ours and meant to be loved. But they were never meant to be EVERYTHING, the end all, be all. He is.
God planted a desire in my heart for children. He knew what would unfold. When I began trying to write my own story, He nudged and loved and even sorrowed me. When I catch glimpses of my past, it always involves wanting children. Sometimes, I'm not sure why He thought I would be a good mother.....however, in His way, He blessed me with amazing children. His love allows me to love them better.....allows me to give grace. I am His beloved.
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." John 1:1
In the beginning, there was me. I was a pretty girl. I liked the boys and boy did they like me. I was the girl I warn our girls not to be. Getting pregnant at 16, I felt fulfilled. When she was born, I was young and scared. At 17, I was ill prepared to be a mother. When I had the 2nd girl at 20 (almost 21), I wasn't any more prepared....just not as young. Still scared. There is something scary about getting handed a baby and all of a sudden you realize that YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE FOR HER FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. All decisions that are made, all choices, all STUFF....it's all on YOU. ARGH!
Girls 3 and 4 were born within 17 months of each other. Apparently I wasn't feeling loved enough. Actually, having children was the only way I felt complete. I still hadn't quite grasped the whole being loved by God thing. I knew God, trusted God, WAS God's....but didn't allow that to permeate my being. (psssttt....here's a little secret: He created each daughter, so before you start thinking that there were ways to prevent those pregnancies know that in the beginning, He planned on creating them) He was so gracious to me, all these girls.
When I met Matty, I told him that I came with 4 children and I would give him 2. Of course they were girls. That's okay with me, though. Didn't know what I would do with a boy anyways! By the time the Little Bit was born, I wasn't scared. There was that momentary UM when they handed her to me and I once again realized that here was another tiny human that I would have to do right by. And despite our rocky beginning, Matty and I were very settled. I had, sometime during my "living in the pit" time, fully grasped who I was in Christ. I had allowed myself to be bathed in His love and His grace. I had reached and His hand had pulled me up and out. I was forgiven.
I realize that I was looking for His love in our children's faces. In boys' faces. I was trying to fill a hole with temporary things. Because, folks, even your children are temporary. At a certain point, you really AREN'T responsible for what they say and do. They grow up and do things on their own. They learn and love and cry and make mistakes. And I can tell and warn our girls not to be like I was because I realize it wasn't who God created me to be. In the beginning, He knew my name. He also knew the way I would travel and the choices I would make. He also, I reiterate, knew that each girl was going to be born. In fact, He chose their names as well. They were meant to be here, meant to be ours and meant to be loved. But they were never meant to be EVERYTHING, the end all, be all. He is.
God planted a desire in my heart for children. He knew what would unfold. When I began trying to write my own story, He nudged and loved and even sorrowed me. When I catch glimpses of my past, it always involves wanting children. Sometimes, I'm not sure why He thought I would be a good mother.....however, in His way, He blessed me with amazing children. His love allows me to love them better.....allows me to give grace. I am His beloved.
"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God." John 1:1
Friday, July 5, 2013
With One Eye Covered
Whew! I had a heck of a week! During that week, I read another blog that struck a chord in me. And I realized....I'm looking at the world with one eye covered. This other blog got me thinking about what my children see when they see me. The blog was from a daughter to a mother. I thought I'd hit the same subject as a mother to a daughter.
Dear girls,
Please remember that you are beautiful. Please remember that no matter how your body may change, you are beautiful. I know I complain about my figure, know that I talk about how my dream is to be "tall, thin and blonde". But the truth is, I won't ever be that. And I need to remember that my words have an impact on you. I see it after I've had an exceptional rant. I see you glance in the mirror, perhaps thinking that if there is something wrong with my figure, there MUST be something wrong with yours. I see you quickly look over yourself, your gaze landing on your thighs. You push on them and grimace and I realize.....I do that all the time.
With one eye covered, I believe I can complain about myself and expect that it won't effect you. I expect that because you are young and beautifully built, you won't take my words and make them yours. I don't comprehend that to you, I am beautiful. You tell me all the time...and I scoff. Your dad tells me and I sigh, feeling he can't possibly mean it. And all this, you see.
The world gives you an image to behold, a model of how you should look and dress. The world teaches that you must be thin to be beautiful. And with one eye covered, it does seem like that is right. But, girls, it isn't. You, just as you are, are BEAUTIFUL. Your body will change, you will gain weight and lose weight. You will have children and your body will stretch in ways you never knew it could. You will gain weight in places you want it AND in places you don't. Through all this, YOU WILL BE BEAUTIFUL.
The world will continue to tell you that you are not built right, it will tell you that you aren't perfect. It will be lying.
I won't always have this mindset. This is my growth mindset. I will probably slip right back into my complain mode tomorrow. However, I will try to remember that you are listening. You are watching and learning. I don't want the seeds of self recrimination to take root in your mind. Don't want my image issues to become your reality. I love you so much and when I look at you, I am so proud to be your mother. I am so proud of the women you are becoming.
I will uncover my eye and truly look at the things around me. I will be cautious with my words and actions and I will claim beauty more often. I will remember that every mark and stretch on my body has been because I carried you beneath my heart. I will remember that your dad means it. I will remember that I am made in His image, as are you. He has created good things, so by deduction...I am good. ALL of me is good. And all of you is good. Good and beautiful.
Remember this when you have daughters. Remember that they love you, that to them you are the most beautiful woman in the world. Remember that you are always amazing to those little eyes. Remember they hear you.
Uncover your eyes, dear ones. Hold tight and never let go. Remember YOU are beautiful. But mostly, remember you are the daughter of the most High King.
Love,
mom
Dear girls,
Please remember that you are beautiful. Please remember that no matter how your body may change, you are beautiful. I know I complain about my figure, know that I talk about how my dream is to be "tall, thin and blonde". But the truth is, I won't ever be that. And I need to remember that my words have an impact on you. I see it after I've had an exceptional rant. I see you glance in the mirror, perhaps thinking that if there is something wrong with my figure, there MUST be something wrong with yours. I see you quickly look over yourself, your gaze landing on your thighs. You push on them and grimace and I realize.....I do that all the time.
With one eye covered, I believe I can complain about myself and expect that it won't effect you. I expect that because you are young and beautifully built, you won't take my words and make them yours. I don't comprehend that to you, I am beautiful. You tell me all the time...and I scoff. Your dad tells me and I sigh, feeling he can't possibly mean it. And all this, you see.
The world gives you an image to behold, a model of how you should look and dress. The world teaches that you must be thin to be beautiful. And with one eye covered, it does seem like that is right. But, girls, it isn't. You, just as you are, are BEAUTIFUL. Your body will change, you will gain weight and lose weight. You will have children and your body will stretch in ways you never knew it could. You will gain weight in places you want it AND in places you don't. Through all this, YOU WILL BE BEAUTIFUL.
The world will continue to tell you that you are not built right, it will tell you that you aren't perfect. It will be lying.
I won't always have this mindset. This is my growth mindset. I will probably slip right back into my complain mode tomorrow. However, I will try to remember that you are listening. You are watching and learning. I don't want the seeds of self recrimination to take root in your mind. Don't want my image issues to become your reality. I love you so much and when I look at you, I am so proud to be your mother. I am so proud of the women you are becoming.
I will uncover my eye and truly look at the things around me. I will be cautious with my words and actions and I will claim beauty more often. I will remember that every mark and stretch on my body has been because I carried you beneath my heart. I will remember that your dad means it. I will remember that I am made in His image, as are you. He has created good things, so by deduction...I am good. ALL of me is good. And all of you is good. Good and beautiful.
Remember this when you have daughters. Remember that they love you, that to them you are the most beautiful woman in the world. Remember that you are always amazing to those little eyes. Remember they hear you.
Uncover your eyes, dear ones. Hold tight and never let go. Remember YOU are beautiful. But mostly, remember you are the daughter of the most High King.
Love,
mom
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.
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.
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.
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.
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.
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