gratitude rises above

sometimes I am really weary at the end of a day…

…at times motherhood, keeping a home, and the full life we have leaves me exhausted.

there are days it’s tempting to think this phase of life with little ones will go on forever…

and then I download pictures from my camera and gratitude for these days (though tiring at times) wells up in my heart.  I know the time is fleeting, and scenes like these will soon be only memories :: and so I give thanks…

for his wonder of the outdoor world

a little girl learning new sporting skills

and gaming skills

for his intensity :)

for toys strewn about the yard

for diapers that need changing and baby—okay toddler—legs

 for a doting auntie and uncle!

 for sacked out little ones in the car

and for creative messes that need to be cleaned up…

:::

For all of this Lord, I am grateful.  One can lose sight and vision in the day-to-day of a home full of activity, noise! and the many needs of the little people around me.  I pray that You restore my sight and cause me to really see from heaven’s perspective.  Remind me of the eternal nature of what is happening in our home. 

Let me see You at work….

Amen!

gratitude rises above

found a name

I think I’ve found it.

My grandma name :: one that fits me and one that my children’s offspring will hopefully enjoy calling me.

But before that grand announcement {no pun intended!}, I have to tell you that I’ve completely obsessed about this.  Even in the middle of tossing emotions, as the thought of becoming ‘grandmother’ to some little person hit me, I would starting thinking of a name.  What are they all going to call me?

I thought of just allowing little Isaiah to name me and set the tone for future grandchildren :: but then my husband went ahead and chose his own name. 

Papa.

Great.  Now I felt the need to choose one too!  So I obsessed a bit more…{by this I mean that Google became a near & dear friend for several days; alright, that is a slight exaggeration}

Then one morning out of the blue, a name popped into my head.  Nia.  Nia (pronounced nee-ah).

Ooooh, I liked it.  Short, cute, sweet and yet I can imagine it growing with me.  I wrote it out, whispered it often and matched it up with grandpa’s choice.  Papa and Nia.  Nia and Papa.  Yep, this was a keeper.

True to my personality, knowing it was a choice for a girl’s name (though I’ve never met anyone with the name), I looked it up to be sure it didn’t have an odd meaning.  And that discovery sealed the deal ~

 

Origin and Meaning of the Name Nia :: radiance, brightness; also from a Swahili word meaning purpose.

Yes.

Oh, I seriously hope Isaiah likes it too.

 

photo credit

found a name

the delicate dance

{this space is mostly a record of joy, the beauty around me and the life I’m privileged to have.  today I post a mixture :: a bit of reflection on news that has pierced our hearts, wounded our spirits and brought a ray of joy as well.  I believe it’s only right to be true and honest, even in blog world; especially in blog world.  it’s the story of a dance…and with my daughter’s permission, I record a little of the journey here…}

She’s a wisp of a girl still, this graduate of mine. 

Tender and tough has been the journey between us :: the closeness we share is evident through memories past and present.  And memories still to be made in the future.  She’s a good girl, she is.  And oh, how I love her.

Because of her, I’ve grown and matured.  Children have this effect I believe :: exposing the vanity that can often envelope our hearts as parents.   This Mama was a very young mother full of expectation, determination and…pride.  I often observe other mothers now and chuckle softly to myself, knowing that one day they too will wake up to the fact that maybe, just maybe…they are not the best mother in the world.  God usually doesn’t allow pride to have much room; He knows it’s a trap.

So my girl and I grew together as the family grew as well.  The road we’ve traveled has encountered its mountains and valleys, but we all set our sights high.  The fabric of our family, pieced together by His grace, has been strong.  And as we approached the end of a chapter to exchange high school years for young adult ones…that strength was tested.  And often the material frayed or was torn in places.  Yet, grace always mended the wrongs and patched up offenses.  And the journey continued…

It’s a delicate dance, motherhood. 

Often you topple between the partners of both grief and joy, sashaying across the floor with celebration the day they’re born or come into your life, say their first word, enter school years and take the first calculated risk that works out right.  The world is right-side up, laughter bubbles and all is well…joy!

And then there are days of painful tears~theirs and yours as you each face disappointments and the reality that this life on earth…well, it’s just not going to be perfect, or even beautiful always.  That’s for another time and another place.  When the ever gentle hand of the bearer of tears will wipe them away from our faces for the last time. Oh, hallelujah.  Until then, motherhood sometimes dances with sadness :: heart heavy and steps awkward, an unwelcome union.

I’ve waltzed with both partners through the nearly 20 years of mothering; and the last several months found me stumbling between the two as my husband and I learned that our unwed teenage daughter was expecting, due 11 months after the last grace gift entered the family.  Our world came to a screeching halt.

At first, there were no words, none whatsoever.  There was nothing really but the auto-pilot nature that I’ve been given to just keep swimming, even if it’s upstream.  She needed us.  We are committed to her. And that was that.

But not really.  And there began a dance so wild, but not free.  So tender, but so broken.  And so desperately in need.  I argued with my Savior, tossing my grief and even anger His way.  I ‘gave up’ on certain days and wanted to quit…quit what?  Well, anything really.  Just to feel in control of something.  I did not despair of life, but I did despair.  For a time, there was little consolation of spirit.

Then the dance grew more still as the days passed.  No longer the frantic movements of a wounded spirit, whirling across the floor with sorrow as a primary partner.  With that same determination of a young mother’s heart, I chose an additional companion.  Not in denial or some fake-Christianity tactic, but a true bona fide choice to take it one step at a time.  With Him.  For really, what other option would lead me to freedom? 

When I could not see how to move forward, He answered.  He spoke words that have sustained me and kept my feet from falling.  He showed me how to continue in light of all of our ministry and family responsibilities.  He would not let me quit. 

And as the news has gone public, He is here.  Not being one to become consumed by other’s opinions or thoughts on my personal matters, I find this the easier portion of the journey though the loss of privacy is unsettling.  I had to find my footing with my Jesus first and foremost.  Oh, careless words find their way in and wound…I am human.  And the silence of friends messes with my mind :: for the life of me, I cannot understand why Christians (Christians!) stay quiet when they can offer an encouraging word—what are we so afraid of?

But all this aside for now...there’s a new grace gift coming!  And my heart has always and will always believe and proclaim that all children are a gift straight from the throne of heaven.  That’s how the Creator set it up.  What a super brilliant idea.  So we’ve prepared our hearts and minds around this reality. 

I’m not afraid to admit that every so often I still weave a path between grief and joy; swaying softly among the two. 

There’s no embarrassment in saying that :: it’s a dance after all….

 

{prayers for our family are appreciated ~ that we would fear God & honor His ways, that the darkest days are behind us and that we would all walk as children of the light.  thank you.}

photo credit

the delicate dance

never again

{I recently wrote this for our church women’s newsletter}

The following is a true story. The facts have not been altered in any way.

The date is February 10, 2009, one full of activities as we had a child’s birthday to celebrate. At a point that morning I finally decided all was calm enough to quickly finish getting ready. I separated my crew and my then 10 and 3 year-olds were in the basement playing, the 6 year-old birthday girl in my room. Yes. Naively I slipped behind the double doors of our bedroom for just a few minutes alone, every mother of little-ones-at-home dream come true. All of a sudden, my 10-yr old daughter comes in yelling at the top of her lungs...."MOM, the POLICE are here!!" My first thought was of my husband in an accident.

"What!? At our door?"

"YES! Oh Mom, are we in trouble!? Did you get a ticket or something!? WHY are they here!?" Like I knew that. So I ask her to open the door while trying to pull myself together. What in the world could the police want with me? Running downstairs, I find two officers questioning my daughter.

'So, you don't have school today?'

'Oh, I'm homeschooled.' At that point I wanted to yell...Oh no, she's not!! because I knew what they had to be thinking. But I stayed silent since shock had settled in. Just in perfect timing, my 3-yr old son—the culprit who accidentally called 911 in the first place—came around the corner waving a piece of bread on a stick and asked the policemen if they wanted to play campfire and did they happen to have any marshmallows?

Again, I had nothing to say. Imagine the headlines now: “Mute Woman Attempts to Homeschool Children, Investigation Pending”. I did wonder where the bread had come from...wasn’t he supposed to be in the basement?

One officer began cancelling the fire department & ambulance on their way as well. I finally spoke up when asked for my name, date of birth, etc. and as they left, I apologized profusely. Mortification doesn’t even begin to describe what I was experiencing, let me tell you.

Closing the door behind me, my mind began racing with a resolute vow...

I will never, ever again...

I will never again. Ever uttered those words as a response? Ever felt the need to shelter and shield yourself from further or repeated pain? To never again want to experience anything that would even come close to representing what you’ve been through? John Eldredge, author of Wild at Heart, comments in his book that we often make vows from our place of ‘woundedness’. From the place of hurt, embarrassment, anger or any other hosts of deep emotion emerges a resolve to never, ever...well, fill in the blank. I’m sure we all can.

Yes, my run-in with the law was a tad humiliating and by no means a real wound so to speak. But it reminded me then and now of how I’ve so quickly done the hard work of building a wall of ‘never again’ protection only to realize that this same wall was keeping me captive. Keeping out the unwanted maybe, but also blocking the good trying to flow into my life.

It’s hard. Some of the experiences we’ve been through have left us raw and yes, wounded. I’m not trying to advocate a simple 1-2-3 ‘get over it’ plan that means little. I wouldn’t do that; life has dished out a few situations of my own to demonstrate how trite this would be. However, very delicately, I will suggest another alternative.

Let God take the never again. Gather up every one of those resolves, those vows made in the midst of pain and hurl them at His feet. Cast them off, shed them like the dirty laundry they are spiritually and stand there bare before Him. They’re too weighty to carry anyway, am I right? Do it again and again if need be. Then allow Him to robe you in His clothing of peace to your soul and a heart willing to try again, live again, BE again. He desires this for you...will you let Him?

As for me, I’ve decided that age 15 is when my children can finally be trusted to be alone; so by 2025 I can hopefully enjoy those few minutes by myself!

 

photo credit

never again

ordinary days

You know…some days are just plain boring.

Yep, you read that right :: boring and ordinary.

Or at least it can seem that way to this stay-at-home Mama whose often tired of hearing the echo of sibling squabbles, or seeing the room just cleaned become a perfect storm.  Some nights I fall into bed thinking ‘I seriously hope tomorrow is better’ before drifting off into a deep sleep ::

that is, if no one enters our room at three a.m. searching for his blue blanket, which is right next to his pillow.

Of course.

Ordinary days.  Laundry, cooking dinner (that may or may not pass for a ‘good meal’), sweeping and wiping up messes, losing patience and praying for more, and the list goes on.  But ordinary can be good I’m thinking because those days remind us or at least hopefully teach us to appreciate the extraordinary moments.  You know…the ones where I don’t hear or see the children, go into a serious panic, only to find them contentedly lying on the couch listening to big sister reading aloud.  Yes.

But if I live this parenting life waiting solely for the mountain-top experiences, I’m setting myself up (and my children) for major disappointment on a regular basis.  I must learn to appreciate the ordinary and accept it as part of the experience. 

Our Master had ordinary days—times where he had to settle disputes among his children (um, disciples), clean up messes & mistakes (like bloody ears, eww) and felt exhausted…so exhausted he slept through the perfect storm.  Jesus was one extraordinary God-man whose days were filled with the ordinary of life. 

And so it is with us :: when life is boring, or plain, with nothing really exciting happening…it’s okay and not a sign of defeat or a reason for disappointment.  It’s just simply part of the experience.

Embrace it.

 

photo of a simple extraordinary moment:

good book, iPod humming tunes, homemaking journal, and hoping the baby on the other end of that monitor naps long.

ordinary days

how to love for mothers

I recently shared this paraphrase with a group of Moms from our church.  Thought it might bless someone today:

I Corinthians 13 paraphrased for Moms (from the book A Mother's Heart by Jean Fleming)

If I keep my house immaculately clean, and am envied by all for my interior decorating, but do not show love in my family---I'm just another housewife.

If I'm always producing lovely things--sewing, art; if I always look attractive, and speak intelligently, but am not loving to my family--I am nothing.

If I'm busy in community affairs, teach Sunday school, and drive in the carpool, but fail to give adequate love to my family--I gain nothing.

Love changes diapers, cleans up messes, and ties shoes--over and over and over again.

Love is kind, though tired and frazzled.

 

Love doesn't envy another wife--one whose children are 'spaced' better or in school so she has time to pursue her own interests.

Love doesn't try to impress others with my abilities or knowledge as a mother.

Love doesn't scream at the kids and apologizes when I do.

Love doesn't feel cheated because I didn't get to do what I wanted to do today--sew, read, soak in a hot tub.

Love doesn't lose my temper easily.

Love doesn't assume that my children are being naughty just because their noise level is irritating.

Love doesn't rejoice when other people's children misbehave and make mine look good.  Love is genuinely happy when others are honored by their children.

how to love for mothers

simply me

I hang up the phone and pause to contemplate words undeserved, words spoken in admiration but that have left me pondering once again their concealed meaning…

‘Oh, you’re a super-mom, a super-woman!  You’re simply amazing!’

Is this really true?  And what does this mean anyway :: have I somehow reached a status that we as women and mothers are to try and attain?  Who makes these decisions….

My spirit is disturbed at the thoughts shared.   It often rattles me when an outsider receives a peek into our daily routine, our pattern & rhythm of life and makes such a declaration.  I’m not amazing.  I am just simply me.  Just attempting to live out our priorities in a God-honoring way, what feels right for our family.  There are no claims that what we do or how I function works for all, but at times others seem to think so.  While I know how to receive and even welcome compliments, I still cringe :: for I want to inspire, not intimidate.  They receive a message not intended.

It’s flattering and can lead to pride, oh I’ve been there.  When others try to emulate and copy, the heart swells with selfish thoughts leading to an uppity disposition that has trapped so many.  It’s a snare, pride is.  Ugly and unrelenting in it’s trap.  I don’t want that.

 

And yet, I am to be me.  Living out the plans and purposes He designed, trying to be a good steward of the gifts He has given.  Exploring the interests that cause a spark in my mind or heart.  I didn’t ask for these gifts—they do not belong to me ultimately :: and my creative pursuits are wide and many…

but that’s just who I am.  It’s simply me.

While there are many aspects we should hold in common, we’re each to walk in the unique path set before us, to develop our abilities and talents, to share with others the gifts bestowed upon us.  We should not push our own expectations onto others, but neither should we shrink back because others have yet to accept who they are uniquely.  Encourage spirits though, for they only struggle with an ailment common to us all at one time or another.

     

What is the right path for you?  Is it one of quiet in this season or do you sense a wild stampede of ideas, rushing to the surface to make themselves known?  Perhaps this is a time for retreat from previous plans, or on the other hand…it’s time to step forward :: knees shaking, heart trembling but a readiness to pursue & move ahead. 

Dare to be who you were created to be.  Live fully and uniquely to how you’ve been wired.   Really, it’s the only way.  But, for His glory, oh yes….only for His glory.

“Not to us, O LORD, not to us
       but to your name be the glory,
       because of your love and faithfulness.”

                                                                     Psalm 115:1

 

photo: last weekend’s project~homemade tic-tac-toe board for game time fun (idea came from here)

simply me

reporting from baby land

{Thanks for the words of congratulations!!}

Oh my, we are most definitely in the bliss & throes of baby land around these parts—and wouldn’t have it any other way. I’m currently typing while maneuvering little Jeremiah and a nursing pillow. Seems like I distinctly remember being better at this with the other children. Oh, well.

This little guy is a blessing to us all and so far quite a content babe. He has handled with ease the poking & prodding of his siblings, endless kisses to his forehead, and the level of noise here in our home. What a trooper!

And I’m handling with not as much ease, but working on it, the numerous questions from little minds. I forget that to them, everything is new and interesting…so patience is required! “Why is he crying? Maybe he wants me to hold him? Why does he sleep so much!? I think he needs a stuffed animal. Maybe he wants some juice? It’s MY turn to hold him!” There’s nothing like sibling concern. This little boy is truly loved.

I’m taking it all in and tucking away memories in my heart and mind. Precious days, these are.

reporting from baby land

our new grace gift

We welcome a new son!

Jeremiah Daniel

born August 3rd
7 lbs 10 ounces

joyfully and peacefully welcomed into our family :: we rejoice in the goodness of our Lord!
mama & baby are doing very well.

our new grace gift

tender ties

{thank you so much for the prayers & encouragement! this little one continues to stay put and the pregnancy relieved of contractions. we rejoice!}

Mother’s Day reflections~

He bounces onto the bed, all 41 pounds of this exuberant three-year old nearly crashing into my belly. “Happy Mother’s Day!” spoken in a growly whisper that only a mother could appreciate. “Daddy told me to say that!!”

At least he’s obedient. For now.

She floats in next, light & airy in complete ballerina style, and sprawls out her six-year old frame next to me. Yawn. Another yawn. “You will like your gift Mom. Happy Mother’s Day.” Her tone & demeanor clue me into the fact that she probably would have appreciated the extra minutes of sleep. We embrace tightly, the only kind of hugs she is capable of.

I wait a bit and yes, here she comes. Mind set on the task at hand—Mom is to be celebrated today, no reservations. Inside I chuckle at this ten-year-old’s seriousness, one that I fully understand and can relate to. I beat her to any words and we banter back & forth about the day’s plans, how she spent her evening of sleep. “Are you happy you’re a mother?” Oh serious, I tell you. Very, very deep this child. I assure her that this vocation, this calling, brings me great joy.

My spouse watches in observation. Cards are opened :: much laughter & merriment. Church attendance, a full lunch. Naps, Mama included.

Communication with my oldest, who has recently moved further north. Could I have guessed long ago that love & appreciation would come in the form of text messages & voicemails from this out-of-high-school & into-the-world-beyond young lady? “Sorry your card is late Mom! It should be there soon!” I trust that’s true.

Oh, the fullness. Even the little babe to come celebrated by keeping me up most of the night with persistent kicks & jabs.

And I think of the ties to my children—once envisioned as strong cords, perhaps rope-like, wrapped around them and me. And I found this Mother’s Day wondering if that’s really the best picture :: probably better describing a marriage covenant? The bond is strong, no doubt about it. The intensity of love, devotion, care & concern for them…it’s all there. But motherhood has in the past few years taught me that the ties are tender.

Almost spider-web like in it’s delicate nature.

My children are with me for a small window of time really. The extension of myself, this journey of motherhood, is much about release. The opportunity to weave for them a web, if you will, a place & purpose in our family is big…but not the only goal. The home we form is their temporary incubation period, albeit very vital to who they become.

But I am preparing them for another place and bit by bit teaching them how to weave a web of their own, for their future offspring…and on & on it goes for generations to come. God’s delicate design. Strong, yet loose. Tough and tender, all at the same time. May my heart flow with the process and not resist His plan.

Oh Lord,

sanctify and prosper my domestic devotion, instruction, discipline, example.

that my house may be a nursery for heaven…enriched with trees of righteousness of thy planting…

for thy glory. {excerpt from Valley of Vision}

tender ties

parenting encouragement

I'm only halfway through Grace-Based Parenting, but without reservation I can say that it is probably the best foundational book on raising children that has come across our home. There are others I'm sure. In the past, I've been reluctant to read many parenting resources, books, listen to audio series, etc.

Not because the resources themselves had any fault on their own, but in my earlier parenting days, it all was causing me too much stress. The root cause? I wasn't listening to the Creator of my children for direct instruction :: you know, the One who understands them inside and out? So began a multiple-year journey of praying earnestly as the Lord took me through the Scriptures to understand His parenting style---one that is full of high standards & expectations, and yet is built on the strong foundation of grace. That is what excites me about this book since the vision is the same--I'm relearning and learning much. What resulted from my 'walk through the Word' was not perfect motherhood, but a deep and rich grasp of such glorious truths; and I'm still growing.

parenting encouragement

blueberry baby

Well, that's about the size of our little one right now...

Our family will welcome a new family member this July! Mom and Dad are happy, the can't-wait-until-the-baby-comes siblings are ecstatic, and friends and family celebrate with us.

As I reflect on this season, I personally cannot imagine a visitation from an angelic being to announce my pregnancy :: seeing the two lines on that stick was enough of a celestial experience. And the news would have crushed Mary's world and dreams, brought on doubts and serious concerns, and surely, surely...made her afraid. My experience is so radically different and there is really no comparison.

Except for one possibly.

She celebrated God's work, and gave thanks to Him. My heart and thoughts echo those voiced so long ago--"My soul doth magnify the Lord, and my spirit hath rejoiced in God my Savior"!

blueberry baby

happy birthday to the king!

No, it's not the Messiah's birth that the title is referring to, but King Josiah's {as we are all fond of calling him}!

Many people told me that boys would be different. I wasn't convinced that would be true so early, but my son has set the record straight! Oh, how I love this boy. Because he is a snuggler and cuddler still at age 3, his rambunctious ways are quickly forgiven by this Mama.

Oh sure, I'm ready for him to let go of the idea that he can fly and to accept the limitations that gravity places on all of us...but he is precious.

Happy 3rd birthday son.

happy birthday to the king!

great expectations

{back in early 2005, I did a retreat for the women of our congregation on simplicity in life :: this is an article I had written for our ministry newsletter to introduce the topic. As I was planning an impossible week of homeschooling recently, the Lord reminded me to adjust & I remembered these long-ago words}

For a week this past December, my husband and our eldest were gone on a trip to Texas, leaving the younger two girls and I home alone. For the first day or two we did wonderfully and then reality begin to hit a little. Jordyn {then 21 months} and Janelle {then age 6} thought life was getting a little too boring. I decided that we needed a change of pace and fast, so the decision was made to go to Pizza Hut to cash in a free pizza coupon.

However, when the assigned evening arrived, I had hesitations. Jordyn had not taken her customary nap and her sister had not slept well the night before—they were both very grumpy. I sifted through the mail while weighing the decision and noticed a note from a close relative. It read: “Thank you so much for allowing your daughters to come and visit us…they were the most well-behaved children…this speaks to the home training they are receiving and to the values you are instilling in them.” WOW! What further affirmation did I need? Throwing all caution to the wind, we packed up and left.
Big mistake #1.

The girls were jittery and jumpy as we tried to order and could not be still long enough to do any of the activities I had brought along. Trying to think quickly, I said, “Let’s sing a song, but softly.”
Mistake #2. Jordyn piped up from her booster and at the top of her lungs began serenading the entire restaurant with the song ‘Jesus Loves Me’, which sent Janelle into giggle mode. The jumpiness combined with the giggling caused a drink to spill, and Jordyn to stop mid-song and clap while loudly cheering “Yeah, ‘Nelle!!! Hoo-ray!!” I was beginning to wonder if it was a crime to run out without paying since we hadn’t eaten anything yet. Somehow, we managed to wait until the pizza arrived.

Later that night, I evaluated my mistake. I knew the girls were quite unprepared for the situation and yet I put them in it anyway. Why? It can be summed up in these words: unrealistic expectations. Webster describes expectation as a mental picture of, or a belief about the future. This is not a bad thing; we all must have an end in mind or goals that we work towards. The writer of Proverbs tells us that we can suffer without a sense of vision (29:18). What makes the expectation unrealistic, and sometimes detrimental, is that we can too often apply it in situations or to persons where there is not the capability for it to be fulfilled. Or we're just plain-old impatient & tired of waiting for the right timing.
Always a major mistake.

My situation with the girls was a piece of cake compared to the variety of times that I placed unrealistic expectations upon myself, my husband, my family…and the list could go on. Ever done the same thing? Perhaps you even did like me with the note from a relative and ‘claimed’ a scripture, a passage from a book, or someone’s advice as the ticket to success, but misapplied it to the situation at hand. I can very much relate.

I think as women, mothers, wives...we can learn to simplify life by dealing squarely with our expectations. If we choose not to, a sickening cycle of hurt, disappointment & then disillusionment will follow. It’s a trap that’s fairly easy to fall into, but not impossible to get out of. So, are there areas of your thoughts that need an ‘expectation adjustment’? Start today by releasing yourself or another, and then enjoy the freedom.

By the way, two nights later at a friend’s home, the girls had impeccable behavior at their dinner table. Prepared for anything, I was pleasantly shocked!

photo credits to stock.xchng

great expectations

Same Road, New Journey

The road has not changed, no this journey of parenting is still being traveled with my eldest child. My soon-to-be eighteen, high school graduate. The wisp of a little girl turned young woman right before my eyes. In a flash it seems.

We continue to travel together, mother & daughter :: and yes, I am still the Mom {said with a bit of hmph! and emphasis}.

But the journey is new. Exciting, sad, a bit tentative and altogether the way it should be. The way it needs to be. My hands cannot clasp around hers too tightly; that's a lesson begun many moons ago and is one that I often remind myself of. Support, don't control. Advise, don't tell.


And yet, my heart speaks whispers...she needs you still. No, not for bedtime stories or cradle rocking. No longer for hanging preschool papers on the fridge or assisting with another very odd school project. Sometimes assigned by her mother, the teacher.

She will continue to lean on me for what those acts represented. Care. Affirmation. Lavish love and a bit of ongoing training as well. Just a bit.

So, I pick myself up from the position of looking into the past and wondering how this time came so quickly, swiftly :: I look ahead and with new resolve, anticipate the road now ahead of us.


93. gratitude expressed for a daughter who enjoys life!

94. for a wonderful day shopping for the 'perfect dress' for graduation {tell me, is there such a thing really? she thinks so}

95. and finding that dress at a price we both could justify. gratitude~~finances for our 'wants'

96. laughter, stories, and new memories made during our excursion

97. for a daughter who enjoys her siblings. especially after being the only for a while. for time spent with them :: reading, playing games, listening, sharing

98. a daughter who loves the One who made her and seeks to honor His ways. when failing, starting again.

99. for her faith, that is growing and being refined. for her personality, that has taught me much.

100. the opportunity to continue to journey ahead with her.

Same Road, New Journey

Bittersweet Moments

Pitter, patter...

Pitter, patter...of little feet running across the floor, when he should be in his crib?

{Sigh}. He's growing up and this Mama trying to accept the excitement and sadness at the same time. Can I sigh again? Because I love the baby and infant days. Sure, sure, not the wakeful nights :: but the smallness & utter dependence, infant yawns, nursing that precious little body, sweet baby bathtimes...all of it.

And after four rounds, it's come to a close.

Oh, so bittersweet.

82. the privilege of rocking

83. feeding and nursing

84. bathing and playing with

85. and staring for endless hours into the eyes of

86. four precious, beautiful children


Have a blessed weekend.

Bittersweet Moments

A Photo Contest

5 Minutes for Moms is hosting a photo contest. Click above to find out the rules and such if you're interested. We're to post a photo that means 'motherhood' to us and to explain it if we would like.

I would like to enter this photo & description:

It's one of my youngest daughter looking outside of our glass door one winter desparately desiring to be on the other side participating in the big world outdoors, no matter how blustery. She had been there for a while (if you look closely, you'll see her breath on the pane).

Yep, this picture probably sums up motherhood for me.

Taking time with my little ones, and my not so little ones, while they are still on this side of the glass pane so to speak--with me, close by, within my reach--before they leave and go out to the other side.

To create their own worlds and homes.

I'm not too sure what the weather will be or what life may hold for them, but the opportunity to bring them near and prepare their hearts and minds for the future is a precious gift that I don't take lightly.

And one that I fully enjoy.

A Photo Contest

Treasures, Part II

I wrote a little while back about a series that I had the privilege of recently sharing at our church. Here is part two on the topic of 'Encouragement for a Mother's Heart'.

II Cor. 4: 7-8, 16-18. The Bible says we have this TREASURE (the light of God & the knowledge of Him) in jars of clay. What an encouragement! It also means that we are clay. Destructible and sometimes fragile. In other words, we cannot hold it together all of the time. Hmmm....think about that for a minute.

But, the same chapter later says that this treasure is a power within that is renewing us daily. Not just at salvation, but daily. This treasure is timeless, indestructible, strong and most important...eternal.

So, for us that means we are not to solely depend on what can fail us: our own wisdom, our own strength, even our own 'good' that we do as Mothers. As wonderful as it may be, it is not dependable....it's CLAY! It may be here today and gone tomorrow because we are human. We have mood swings, bad days and good days. We are not even to focus on our 'light and momentary troubles' (though they hardly ever feel that way do they?). We may be hard pressed, but don't have to be crushed. We may be perplexed, but don't have to feel abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed.

Because He is renewing us daily! Therefore, we CAN keep moving forward in a confidence---not on us, but on HIM. Our motherhood is not dependent on whether or not we can do it all, have it all together, or play the part correctly. It's about His power at work within this jar of clay. That's what gets the job done & keeps us moving forward.

He is also transforming us. However, I'm not sure that we are to focus on the transformation needed. Be aware of it, but don't be consumed by it. Otherwise we are striving and not dependent on God. FOCUS on the treasure! Focus on HIM! And, He will bring about the transformation we need as Mothers. HE will work on us---our job is to keep focus on Him.

So have you lost focus dear mothers? Feeling hard pressed or perplexed? Focus on the treasure--and let Him renew you & transform you.

Treasures, Part II

Treasures, Part I

A few weeks ago, I led a group of mothers in our local congregation through a short 3-week series entitled
"Encouragement for a Mother's Heart". While there is much to be said on the topic, for us the focus each week was on the word 'treasure' and various significant scriptures for life application. Thought I would record some of what was shared and offer it to Mamas out there in blog world.

"For where your treasure is, there will your heart be also." Matthew 6:21

So many times our mother's heart is filled with the thoughts of what we need to do...the organizing, the managing, the daily tasks and the running here and there. Other times we have concerns, questions and doubts that crowd our hearts and minds. Or we think too much on what needs improvement in our lives or the lives of our children. What is the primary beat of your mother's heart right about now?

It's not that these things necessarily go away or even need to. As Moms we have much to do! And often times we are prompted to be concerned about an area that would have probably slipped our minds. That's all normal and good; and we cannot brush off our responsibilities or be lazy in our approach. It's when the tasks or questions so fill our heart that there is not room for the precious, the uplifting or the treasures that we miss out on having a heart full of joy.

In your mother's heart, are you storing up treasure? Not solely of the faces, the events or the words of the ones in your care...but of what is right in your journey of motherhood? Hmmm....self-focused or prideful you may ask?

"Finally MOTHERS (okay, the NIV says 'brothers'), whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable--if anything is excellent or praiseworthy--think about such things." Phillipians 4:8 (emphasis added)

So as you recognize areas of weakness in you as a mother, also store up thoughts of when there was a confidence about what you were doing. Or how about pausing to think on {gulp!} things gone well? How you might have failed, but didn't. Not necessarily to drive away the doubt, but to store up treasure of God's faithfulness to us so that our hearts can be in the right place. I'm not trying to promote an attitude of thinking we've arrived or that we or our children are in need of no improvement! However, it's humanity's default mode I believe to condemn ourselves. Perhaps that is the reason why we needed the command to think otherwise?

Pause this week and think on the excellent and admirable parts of the motherhood journey you're currently experiencing. And then, give Him praise for it.

Treasures, Part I