Delivering Hope Through Cyber Space

Four months ago I recorded this poscast with a friend.
And for some reason, God caused her to hold on to it until now.
I listened to it last night and was so encouraged to remember God's faithfulness in the midst of strife. So for each of you who is struggling today - whether it's due to the children in your home, or some other source - I want to offer you now 43 minutes of hope.
Praying God will speak to your heart through this podcast.

Hidden Treasure

In spite of not wanting to tackle the mess that was my closet, I was inspired to do it this past weekend. *Read that: My husband practically begged me to do it.*
And I think God rewarded me for the effort. Because in the midst of the boxes and pictures and bags, and a few other things I can't believe I held onto for so long, I found this note:

I have no idea how old Elizabeth was when she gave this paper to me. (Note to mothers of young children: Write dates on all their papers and pictures and other keepsakes. You'll be so glad you did!) What I do know is her heart is just as beautiful today as it was then. I have a sense she created this message for me on a day when I was struggling - that even back then, she was an instrument God was using to deliver hope and encouragement. And it delights me to see her now as a grown woman still seeking ways to honor Him by loving others.
Indeed. I have treasures to behold.
This paper is one.
My daughter is another.
And I am forever grateful to God every time HE reveals them.

What treasures have you discovered lately?

Overheard From the Backseat

Sunday evening my entire family was in the van, traveling to have dinner with the extended entire family. As we drove, I enjoyed listening to my kids banter back and forth and share stories about life.
And there was one story, in particular, which delighted me beyond all the others.
That is, one of my children (who shall remain nameless - to protect the innocent!) was complaining about roommate challenges.
Seems this child's roommate doesn't like to do dishes, or clean up messes, or much of anything else which resembles being responsible for one's living space. And this child of mine is getting tired of it. To the extent that this child recently said to Messy Roommate, "Before you go to bed tonight, will you please clean up x, y, and/or z?" And, apparently, Messy replied with some element of drama and said my child was taking Messy back to moments with Messy's parents.
In other words, my child sounds like Messy's mom.
Which on the one hand made me laugh out loud with a certain sense of satisfaction - knowing my child has an inkling of the agony I experienced over years of saying the same kind of thing.
And which - on the other hand - made me grin with pride at the notion that my child was paying enough attention all those years to not only care about cleanliness, but also to remember how to motivate a person to action.
I mean, I don't know if Messy actually fulfilled the clean-up request (Because, goodness knows, my child(ren) didn't always respond to my requests - even when I tried the non-demanding, nag-free, sound-as-relaxed-as-possible "before you go to bed" approach.) but it delights me to no end that my years of attempted training are producing some results. And, yeah, it's fun to see my child learning to navigate the pathways of adulting.

We Made It. (You will, too!)

Who Do You Trust?

Fast-Forward 18 Years

It happened again.
One of those moments in which I found myself "remembering when", and smiling at the realization that God's grace and faithfulness have consistently carried me through.
That is, yesterday morning I served at church by caring for children, so their mommies could have time with other mommies. And as I always do on those mornings, while I was getting ready for the day I was praying for the babies. Asking God to bring peace and give grace to the children, the volunteers, and the mommas - that all might have a joyful morning. (A prayer I am also whispering for this morning - as I speak for some sweet MOPS moms!)
Anyway, as I was contemplating how the morning would transpire (Always plenty of crying now, at the beginning of the year!) my mind went back to when my Josh was three years old. Almost every time I took him to the nursery on a Sunday morning - no matter how pleasant his disposition may have been up to that point - he would put up a fight.
Like, seriously.
As I attempted to pass him over the half-door he would spread out his arms and legs to brace himself in the doorframe, thinking his strength would keep him from going into the nursery. And leaving me feeling like some wicked mother for forcing her child into the loving arms of a sweet servant, when said child clearly wanted no part in it. Of course, by the time I returned to pick him up, Josh was playing and having fun and was totally happy to be in the nursery.
But those first moments.
Oh, they were hard on my momma's heart!
So, as I said, I was thinking about that memory yesterday, after I had just spent the previous evening with my family at Josh's apartment having dinner and playing games. And I smiled as I thought about my 21-year-old son, grown and learning to make his way in the world - but still needing mom 'n dad now and then. I smiled as I recalled his fits over being taken to the nursery, him not realizing at the time that life would get a lot harder. And I smiled - I'm still smiling - as I pondered the faithfulness of our God through each day and every challenge we've faced over that past 18 years. Ahhh, yes. GOD is good!

And if you're reading these words as a mother of babes, if the heartache of tearful transitions and woeful cries is what you're experiencing these days, please hear my heart for you.
It's hard. I know it is! But God is faithful, and HE will bring you through this time.
Keep holding on to HIM, dear sister.

OK. I'm Saying It.

There are a number of things mothers-of-grown-kids said to me when my children were young, which I swore I would never say to other young moms when mine grew up.
Because - although the words had the best intentions behind them - they did little to encourage me.
And sometimes actually did the opposite.
I mean, now I totally see the wisdom behind their words because I've made it to the other side.
In fact, there have been times when I have been tempted to say the very same things.
You know, like, "This, too, shall pass."
When? Because I keep waiting, and it's still happening.
And, "We've all been there."
Oh? So I shouldn't feel this way, because I'm not the only one? Is that supposed to make me feel better? Because it doesn't. Now I just feel guilty for feeling overwhelmed, irritable, tired, fill-in-the-blank.
Or, how about, "There will be a time when you'll miss these days!"
So not true. I still don't miss those days.
Oh, lots of the moments - to be sure. But not the entire day!!!
Indeed, those are among the statements I pray I will never say to a mother of young children.
But this past weekend I found myself thinking a thought I had when my kiddos were little, and recognizing that it may be helpful for me to verbalize it for a few moms of young 'uns out there today.
So, here goes!

I was outside cleaning the porch and washing windows. Partly delighted with myself for getting it done, and partly ashamed that it has taken so long. (Can it still be considered "Spring Cleaning" if July hasn't arrived yet?) Anyway, I was doing it. And I was astonished at how dirty the porch was.
See, the thing is, years ago Josh turned our porch and its immediate area into a bird sanctuary.
Several bird feeders fill the space and - up until he moved out several months ago - Black Oil Sunflower seeds consistently filled the feeders.
And something I've learned about birds?
They're messy and they don't clean up after themselves.
What that means specifically for our situation is that we have more sunflower seed shells filling the landscape than I could ever count. And in case you were wondering, mertyle doesn't grow well when buried by sunflower seed shells. Some of the weeds managed to push through, but the mertyle is being choked out. What once looked like semi-decent landscaping just looks like piles of shells now. With some languishing mertyl and weeds mixed in.
So as I was sweeping sunflower seed shells off the porch (Because they got all over the porch, too.) into the mertyl (Because, why not? It's dying, anyway.) and recalling all the times I had wished our porch entrance looked nicer, I remembered how much joy came to my son when he could claim that all the birds in the neighborhood liked our house best. Because no one else took care of feeding them with as much love and attention as he did.
Seriously.
This kid used his own money to buy the best bird seed - because he researched and found out what the birds really liked. He would fill the feeders every night, and only at night, because he didn't want to do it when the birds were around - so as not to frighten them. Josh would even adjust the curtains by the porch to give the birds more privacy in their feeders.
Is it any wonder they all flocked to our house day after day, season after season?
They had the best possible advocate and care-taker in my son.
And we?
Had a messy porch with terrible looking landscaping.
But cleaning up the mess and making plans for a nice front porch (Because Josh has moved out, the birds have moved on, and Brian and I want to create a beautiful space.) caused me to remember the thing I've heard (and thought!) so many times. "You can't have nice things when you have kids!"
And, you know? In many ways that's a true statement.
But as I reflected on my son's joy in caring for his birds - while cleaning the mess they left behind, even as I anticipated a lot of work in making the space beautiful again - I can honestly say, it's OK.
It has been totally worth it.
And if I had it to do all over again, I would still opt for a messy front porch - if it meant my son finding joy in caring for God's creation. If it meant my son could be delighted in learning about what birds like to eat, how they migrate and nest and survive, and caring for their little birdy needs.
Yeah. All that wins out over my desire to have a presentable front porch.
So, for what it's worth, mother of young children (especially boys!), don't worry about having "nice things" right now. For today, let your kids be kids and seek to find joy in seeing them finding joy.
Even if it means a messy front porch.

There. I said it!

So Much Fun

Oh, how things change.
How the passing of time, and a differing level of responsibilities, and growth in perspective, and an increasing appreciation of life - affects the way we see and respond to circumstances.
That is to say, I had a very long day Monday.
And it was wonderful!!!

My day "began" at 6:30 Monday morning, when I clocked into work.
Punched out at 3:00.
From there I did my weekly grocery shopping. Must have been in Wonder Woman mode because I was through the store, cashed out, car loaded, driving out of the parking lot at 4:04.
Then I went home, put groceries away, and started making dinner so I would be ready to receive two charming young boys into my care at 5:00, while their parents attended parent/teacher conferences at school.
Yet, for as exhilarating as it was to accomplish all that, the wonderful part didn't really begin until my young charges arrived.
What I mean is, as soon as the boys entered my house they were ready for adventure. Full of excitement and energy, and eager to get down to the business of having fun. We went downstairs to see what there was to do, and found a couple of cool things to explore. But then the decision was made to try a game of hide-and-seek, so we went back upstairs and took turns - well - hiding and seeking!
When that game became uninteresting, we went back downstairs and started playing foosball.
(To gain the full affect of the scenes I am attempting to describe, insert lots of laughter and horse-play and shrieks of delight.)
Not too long into our game, Brian got home and came downstairs to see what was going on. Annnnd now, the teams were more "even" and the real fun began around the foosball table. Even a bit of very young trash-talk between the brothers.
After our raucous game ended, we all hurried back upstairs for some more hide-and-seek.
This time the teams consisted of the boys vs. Brian and me. We had a blast pretending we couldn't find the boys' hiding spots, while also acting surprised when they discovered our location.
(Except that one time when we hid in the bathtub, behind the shower curtain. We stiffled laughter as we listened to them searching. Finally, my "sneezing" led them to us - and we all enjoyed a moment of celebration.)

The thing is, after mom and dad took the boys home and I had some time to reflect, I felt like I had a better understanding of the blessing of aging maturing. I grasped the reality of how our outlook changes over time. (I still don't miss "those days". Several of the moments, yes. But not the entire day!!!)
Honestly, I well remember the days when another game of hide-and-seek, or one more shoe to tie, or yet another moment of yelling (even if it was all in fun!), or "just one more" of just about anything had me completely worn out and ready to quit.
Or explode, depending on how the rest of the day had gone. *ahem*
But Monday - even at the end of a super long day - I felt simply delighted having two young boys vying for my attention, running around my house, making too much noise, and having the time of their lives. Because I'm on the other side of being "mom". Because I'm more relaxed now than I was then. Because God has given me the grace to enjoy the moment.
And now I am really looking forward to some day, when my children have children and they need me to play my role as Grandma. It's going to be so much fun!!!

Through the Years

So, Elizabeth and Phil needed something to hold their new projector. And after searching through our basement they found the perfect thing! A small bookcase which was doing nothing more than holding some old books-n-such. All I had to do was find a new home for the books-n-such. And in the process of doing that, I came across these photos in an album I'd completely forgotten.

First, we have this gem from circa September 1996. I can't help but chuckle as I notice how exhausted I look in this picture. It also kind of shocks me that I once had hair that long.

Next comes May, 1998. Josh is four months old, Elizabeth has recently turned 2, and Brian and I are still just kids - trying to comprehend that we have kids of our own!

My best guess is that this picture is from November in 1999. It's clear that Josh is going to be a blonde - rather than the redhead we were suspecting at first, and you can't tell yet but: Matthew is on the way!

And then it would seem we got busy and didn't have a family portrait taken for a while. I'm thinking this photo was taken in the early part of 2004. So, since the last one Matthew was born (obviously!) and I'd had brain surgery. Hence, the short hair. And, yes. I am holding Matthew's hands down - not just holding them. The boy couldn't stop moving! (I still remember that fact.)

Ahhhh, it is so much fun for me to look at these pictures and remember life from yesteryear.
Part of me wants to go back in time and give a lecture/pep-talk/sermon/I've-been-there-and-now-I-know-better-speech to my younger self.
Another piece of me feels like crying for the time she wasted in anger, frustration, and insensibility.
I can honestly say some of me would love to go back and re-live the moments. (Not the entire days, mind you. Just some of the moments. *ahem*)
But mostly, as I look and remember and contemplate the events of the past 22+ years - I am overwhelmingly grateful for God's grace and mercy and never-ending patience.
At the best moments, HE was there. In the darkest days, HE was there.
When I had a firm grasp on life, and when I wasn't sure how I would manage living through the next moment - God was there wooing me closer to His heart.
Holding my hand and leading me to the next step.
It's a beautiful thing, remebrance is.
What a blessing to conjure up the faithfulness of God and recall the days when HE carried me.
Hmmmmm, I'm so glad Elizabeth and Phil wanted that bookcase.

Have I Really Arrived???

So, I saw an old friend in the grocery store Monday.
We used to work on projects together when our kids were in early elementary school.
Yeah. Like 13+ years ago!
I can hardly believe that much time has gone by!!!
Needless to say, we had quite a bit of catching up to do. And, of course, it centered mostly around our children and what they're doing now.

The funny thing about it was that Josh had just stopped by the house Sunday night - so I had a fresh story to tell my friend.
That is, he came over to get something shortly after the dinner hour (Intentional? Maybe!) and was happy to find left-overs in the refirgerator. (To which he even happily-er helped himself!) As Josh ate the dinner, he gushed about my cooking. Openly appreciated the food I lovingly prepared. Said that "frozen food" (the choice of bachelors!) was OK, but he missed my fresh meals.
And I just sat there soaking in the love. *wink*
After he finished eating, Josh had questions for me about grocery shopping. Like, What's the difference between different kinds of 'ground beef'? And, What do you usually buy? Cuz what I bought didn't taste the same.
And I sat there answering his questions, offering suggestions, and enjoying the fact that my son wanted to listen to what I had to say.
So, I was sharing these stories with my friend - and we chuckled at how life changes when our children grow older. As if we noticed it at the same time, we simultaneously commented that those 13+ years ago "older" women would tell us that someday would come. The "someday" when our children would appreciate the things we do for them, the labors of love involved in mothering, the often tireless days of doing-our-best when we just want to lay-down-and-rest.
And I gasped as I wondered, Is someday here? Have I really arrived???
Cause I'm telling you, 13+ years ago I didn't think "someday" would ever, ever materialize.

For the record, Josh stopped by again Monday - late afternoon. Seemed happy when I invited him to stay for dinner. *smile*

How Can You Tire of a Miracle?

The cruise schedule for today is a "Sea Day".
So, while I'm sailing along the beautiful blue seas, here is something for you to read which I originally posted on September 4, 2013. Whether you're a mom whose miracles come in the form of children, or someone whose miracles come in another way, I pray it blesses your heart.

The rabble with them began to crave other food, and again the Israelites started wailing and said, "If only we had meat to eat! We remember the fish we ate in Egypt at no cost - also the cucumbers, melons, leeks, onions and garlic. But now we have lost our appetite; we never see anything but this manna!"

Numbers 11:4-6

We never see anything but this manna!
Does that statement cause anyone else to do a double-take?
Or am I the only one?
Back in Exodus 16, manna came on the scene for the very first time. The Israelites had been grumbling because they were hungry. They accused Moses of bringing them out of Egypt and into the desert to starve them to death. But God told Moses, "I will rain down bread from heaven for you." (Ex. 16:4) And that is just what He did. In the morning when the dew was gone, "thin flakes like frost" covered the ground. And they tasted like wafers made with honey. (Read Exodus 16 for all the details.)
And that was it! Every morning - through no effort of their own - the Israelites were provided with bread from heaven. God performed a miracle for them every.single.day. Can you even imagine what that would have been like?
*yawn*
*stretch*
Hmmmm. I wonder what's for breakfast today? Oh, look! God gave us manna again!
Every morning. Another display of God's faithfulness and power in the miracle of manna.

Yet, somehow by the time we make it to Numbers 11, they're tired of it. "We never see anything but this manna!" And I'm left thinking, What? How can you tire of a miracle???
I understand, these men and women were tired. Probably scared. All that walking through the desert likely made them a bit *ahem!* irritable. But part of me wants to grab their shoulders, look them in the eyes, and plead with them, "C'mon, folks! This is God we're talking about. This manna He's providing is a miracle. Do you hear me? A miracle! You wake up every morning and - Bam! - there it is. How could you possibly be tired of this?"
Standing on the outside looking in, I could see the wonder of what HE had done. In my heart I just wanted the Israelites to embrace the miracle, and honor God for His power and faithfulness.

Just as I came to that realization, God met me with another one: Sometimes I'm just like them!

Fellow mom, are you ready for this?
Motherhood is a miracle.
Our children are miracles.
They're gifts!
Yet, there are moments, days, weeks even - when I am so tired of motherhood. Sometimes I want to legally change my name so I no longer feel compelled to respond whenever someone wails, "Mmmoooooooommm!" There, in the midst of the trial, my view is clouded and I neglect to see my children as the miracles they are. Do you know what I'm talking about?
That's why on the day I was reading about the Israelites despising manna, I felt like God was opening my eyes. In the same way I wanted to plead with the Israelites, I believed God wanted to plead with me. Karen, I understand you get tired. I know motherhood can be scary when you can't see what's around the corner. And you get irritable when you have to go through the same thing over and over again. But I want you to remember, dear one, these children are miracles. Do you recall at their birth when you would marvel at their little toes and eye lashes, and wonder at how I could do such an amazing thing? They've grown bigger, but they're still miraculous. Darling, when you're tired of motherhood, please pause for a moment and remember the miracle.

May these words speak to your heart as they spoke to mine!

Dear Young Mother, It Won't Always be "This Way"

True story.

Yesterday I hit my snooze button twice before getting out of bed.
I didn't WANT to get up at that time, but I managed to overcome my desires and get myself out of bed.
I put on my work-out clothes, walked out to the family room and opened the blinds. At which moment I could see that all cars were gone. (Save for my husband's car. He was still in bed. Napping before going to work, because he gets up at 4:30 every morning to go work out. Really.)
Anyway, I stood there contemplating what the absence of cars meant: Two of my kids were at work, the third might have been at work - or, he might be fishing, and the fourth was gone to class. In other words, everyone was responsible for getting themselves up and where they needed to be while my husband and I were in bed.
My, how times have changed!

I Know It's Difficult

Dear Julie,
We've never met, but I know your mother-in-law. And she told me about you.
She told me that you have young kiddos, and you're struggling right now.
I know about the frustration. And the yelling. (Yeah. She told me about that, too.)
She also told me that she gave you a copy of my book. So, pretty soon you'll know that I understand your struggle and frustration very, very well. You'll know that I used to be a yell-er, too. You'll know that there is no judgment coming from me regarding your performance as a mother.
But more than those things, my prayer is that you will know HOPE.
Yes, Julie, because I have been where you are, because the pain and the battle are so familiar to me, and because God has graciously given me hope in the midst of it all.
HE has shown me there is a purpose.
And it is beautiful!
Ahhhh, the hard times don't get easier just because I have this confidence.
But with it, HE carries me through.

So, Julie, I am praying for you today.
I am asking God to speak to your heart - even through the words in that book. I pray God will open your eyes to see the good thing HE is doing in the midst of your struggle. I pray HE will allow your spirit to have understanding. I pray HE will fill you with HOPE.

And for everyone reading who isn't "Julie", I pray God will also give you hope to carry you through whatever this day holds.

Encouragement for Moms of Littles

Are you a mother of young children?

Are you training them up in the ways they should go?

Trying to teach them manners and good habits, and all that other stuff?

Do you get tired of their whining and complaining, and sometimes feel like giving up?

Dear friend, hear this encouragement. Don't give up!!!!
Sunday night I was sitting at the table making my weekly menu and grocery list. Elizabeth and Phil were sitting on the other side - addressing wedding invitations. And my ears perked up when I heard Phil say something about writing Thank-you notes - and how nice he thinks it is that Elizabeth regularly sends them to people to express her gratitude. The part which really interested me, however, was when Elizabeth responded with something like, "Well, it's just what I learned to do. Mom always made us send them out when we were kids."
I mean, it would have been lovely to hear her expound on the merits of conveying gratitude toward people for the gracious things they have given or done. To listen to words about a caring mother who demonstrated the grace of thankfulness, and tenderly instilled the same value in her children. How precious it would have been to hear my daughter speak of how her heart was shaped to give thanks by her dear mother's loving instruction.
Instead, she acknowleged that I made her write them as a kid - so now she does it as an adult, by habit.

And I? Am OK with that!

Years ago, writing Thank-you notes involved lots of cajoling and reminding. Maybe even an admonition, or two, now and then.
Occasionally I wondered if it was worth it to keep insisting on them being written.
However, the more I experience the fruits of my labors of yesteryear, the more I am convinced that - YES! - it's all worth it. The whining, the complaining, especially the moments when your child says you're the "Meanest Mom in the World" are so painful when you're going through it, but they will all be worth it some day. Keep on keeping on, dear mother-friend.
You're going to make it, your kids are learning, and they're going to turn out beautifully!

P.S. I just took Thank-you notes into Matthew's room for the birthday gifts he received this past weekend. At first he looked at me quizzically, not knowing what I was doing. But when I laid the cards on his table which say, "Thank you" on the front, he simply smiled and said, "Oh, yeah. OK!"
#ThankYouJESUS #KeepOnKeepingOn

It's the Little Things

So, yesterday I had a list of things I needed to accomplish and I got started on it right away.
After I slept in until 7:39, that is. (You know. 7:30 + one tap of the Snooze button.) Hey! I needed rest to tackle my stuff. *wink*
Got my workout in, had breakfast, got showered and ready for the day, sorted laundry and got it going, made my bed, and was ready to head out the door to go grocery shopping. Part of me wanted to delay my departure so I could put the first load of laundry in the dryer and get another wash going, but I decided to just keep moving.
I got through the store, unloaded and put away groceries, and went downstairs to switch over the laundry. But when I got down there, something was amiss. The laundry I'd left in the basket was gone. So I proceeded to the laundry room to see what was going on, and I discovered the task I planned to do was already done. And I smiled as I realized Josh had switched over the laundry for me. Without even being asked. As in, I didn't even hint about him helping.
He just did it on his own.
Of course, I wanted to acknowledge, and appreciate this behavior of his, so I sent a quick text saying, "Thanks for advancing the laundry for me."
Moments later, I got one back which said, "Thanks for going to the store!"

And that pair of behaviors (Advancing the laundry and thanking me for going to the store) blessed this momma's heart in the most beautiful way. After years of training up a child, battling over chores, longing to feel appreciated but doubting the day will ever come, your son goes and does a little thing which produces great amounts of hope. Ahhhhhh.

Who knows what I'm talking about???

Looking Back

This showed up in my Facebook "memories" Monday.
Made me chuckle.

No Kidding. I'm having a "moment" with Joshua and as he stomps off, I open the journal in my hand and my eyes fall on these words: "God, I love Joshua so much. I do. Yet I am so frustrated by his attitude right now."
Yep. I've been here before.
And God has a sense of humor!

Yes, this was the scene on January 29, 2010.
Josh - freshly 12 years old, me - revisiting old times, wondering how I was going to make it through the teen years.
Now he's 20. Rarely stomps off anymore. I guess that's because we don't have very many "moments" these days. I don't remember when in the past 8 years our "moments" started to dwindle, but I do remember a time when I didn't believe they ever would begin to go away.
Yet, here we are.

Eight years ago I was looking back and noticing God's humor - which got me through a difficult moment. Today I am looking back and noticing His faithfulness - which has brought me through some really tough years.
Ahhhh, my friend, keep holding onto Him. The wait may be long, and you may feel like giving up. I get it! But keep holding on. Because HE is going to bring you through.

Dear Frustrated Mother in the Parking Lot

Oh, precious young momma, I saw you today. Trudging through the slushy mess with those two little guys and your cart full of groceries. Ahhh, those fellas couldn't have been older than three. And I wondered when I saw you, are they twins? Or are you babysitting one of them? Or are they brothers, nine-or-so months apart?
Whatever the case, I could tell they were having fun.
I mean, that is, because I heard you before I saw you.
The noisy boys laughing and carrying on, like little boys do.
Little boys who are enjoying a slushy, messy parking lot.

Truth be told? I didn't only hear the boys before I saw all of you.
I heard you, too.
Trying to reign them in.
Then I found you in my eyesight, just about the time one of your charges face-planted in the slush. Just about the time you reached down and grabbed his coat to hoist him back up onto his feet. And I heard the tone of your voice change. Caught the frustration level increase, and chastisement enter in. I heard you saying very loudly, "Bobby, Michael, Joey... whoever you are, stop this nonsesnse!"
I sighed and I thought, Oh, precious young momma, this is a hard day, isn't it? I mean, no day is fun when you have to take two toddlers to the grocery store, and I bet you're exhausted right now. From the looks of that cart, the three of you have been all over the store!
Yeah, I remember grocery shopping with my kids. Honestly one of the most draining activities of my young-mother-life. So I understand the volume with which you are speaking, and I get that you just want those boys to act like little gentlemen - not little boys. But, dear one, they're boys and that's OK. The dirt will come out in the wash. The boots will dry. It's going to be alright.
I'm not going to say these days are going to go by so fast, or that you're going to miss them. Not going to tell you it's going to get easier, either. But I will say this: You're going to make it, friend. I know, because I have been where you are, and I am making it, too. God has been ruthlessly faithful to my kids and me, and I am convinced HE is the One who is bringing us through these days. And so, along with these words from my heart to yours, I am praying the God of the universe will draw your heart to His and fill it with peace and joy.

Love,

How Sweet

So, when my grandma lived with us in 2015 she and Josh developed a very sweet relationship. For one, he put up and maintained bird feeders outside her window - and each evening he would go into her room so she could tell him about the birds who'd come to visit that day.
They both loved bluebirds, but bluebirds don't hang around our neighborhood very much. So Grandma never saw them at her feeders. Still, for some reason those little critters often found a place in Grandma and Josh's conversations.
I remember one night just a few days before Grandma died. Josh went into her room after work and she struggled to focus on him, but he leaned in and told her, "I saw a few bluebirds at work today, and I thought of you." Oh, if you could have seen how her face lit up.
It took work, but she managed to say, "That's nice, Josh!"
And his face lit up, too.

Last week Josh and I were talking about one of his recent fishing outings and he started to tell me a story. He had seen a few bluebirds while he was wading through the river and then he paused, looking like he felt a little embarrassed.
"Well, this is sort of silly."
"Ahhh, tell me," I begged.
So he kept going.
The bluebirds flew overhead and off to the side. Josh followed their path and cast his pole where the birds had flown over the river. And he caught a good fish.
This is the silly part: Josh said he sort of felt like Grandma Peggy had shown him through the bluebirds where to fish.
I just smiled, and held back a tear.

Not that I believe a dead person has any control over bluebirds, knows where fish are swimming, or even cares what's happening here on earth. But my son - my 19-year-old son - who keeps to himself more often than not, had just shared a vulnerable moment with me. A tender moment and memory of my grandmother. And my heart got filled right up to overflowing.

Hang in there, fellow-mom. Not all the moments are hard ones!

Seeing from the Other Side

Yesterday a friend asked me if I have thought about writing another book.
And the truth is, I have.
Actually, last summer when I had the night shift driving home from Colorado - and everyone else in the van was sleeping - I came up with the title, sub-title, and eleven chapters.
I haven't taken it any farther than a memo on my phone, though.

But due to recent events, and things I've almost said, I'm thinking maybe I ought to get writing.

The thing is, my kids are getting close to being grown up.
They're 21, 19, and 17 now.
The struggles I had with them when they were small don't weigh heavy on my heart and mind anymore. (We've moved on to other struggles!) And as God has been growing them up, He's also been maturing me - and helping me differentiate between things that matter, and things that don't.
In fact, it has come to the point where I almost told a young mother, "This, too, shall pass."
Another time I almost said to parents of a new-born, "You'll make it. Just nap when he naps."
*grimace*
Those are two of the statements which made me cringe during my kids' younger years - every time someone spewed said them to me.
But, but, now that I'm on the other side, I know they're true statements. Having gone through what those young parents are presently going through, I now know the hard times won't last - and the little-ness of their little treasures won't, either. And, like all the grown-women and grandma's who have gone before me, I am eager to encourage them with sage advice and words of wisdom. Which I am certain will alleviate their distress and help them enjoy the moment.
The good thing
The problem is
No, it's definitely a good thing.
The good thing is, before those words came out of my mouth I remembered how they sounded to me when I was an irritable mother in the midst of the struggle. Although now I trust the words were always spoken with good intent - and in accuracy from hind-sight - at the time they did little to nothing to encourage me. Rather, I fell deeper into my pit of mommy-guilt because I wasn't enjoying.every.moment. And I seemed always to feel just a little more of a failure each time someone implied (Unintentionally, I'm sure.) that they made it through whatever I was facing, so I ought to buck-up and face it, too.
I didn't need sage advice and words of wisdom when I was an irritable mother. I mean, maybe later they would have been good to hear. But what I really needed first was for somebody (preferably one of these "older" moms who had been there) to tell me that what I was going through really was hard. That it was OK for me to feel overwhelmed. I needed her to tell me she had cried, too, and sometimes she didn't want to be a mommy anymore, either. My heart was longing for her to validate me, and to assure me that I wasn't a failure. Oh, if she would put her arms around me and pray, and affirm that God was still crazy in love with me - even when I was a slobbery mess.
Yes, those kinds of words would have been so much more valuable to me than the advice to "enjoy them now" because "they're only young once" and "this, too, shall pass."
I mean, I'm seeing the younger years from the other side now, and I know those words are true. But when I was an irritable mother, those words didn't offer the grace I needed.

So that's why I'm thinking maybe some day I'll write,
"When I was an Irritable Mother: A Grandma's Guide to Giving Grace".
What do you think?

Just for Moms

I am super excited to have the necessary information to share with you about a Moms' Night Out coming up on May 13. The MOPS group at Faith Church in Valparaiso, Indiana will be hosting this event, and all moms (of all ages!) are welcome to attend. Doors open at 6pm and as I understand it there will be yummy desserts available at that time for you to savor while you enjoy fellowship with other moms - sans kiddos! The program will begin at 7pm - at which time I will be speaking and singing and offering lots of hope for overwhelmed moms.
Tickets for the program are $5 and proceeds will be donated to Hannah's Hope, which is a non-profit organization in Northwest Indiana serving children with special needs.

Tickets and additional information are available here.

I would love, LOVE to see you there!