The Mama's Thoughts

BirthDay Month

2018-06-24T16:37:00.003-06:00

I just finished celebrating my birthday which was towards the beginning of the month. I've had friends shower me with flowers and cards and posts and texts and messages for nearly 3 weeks. The group of friends (I include my sisters and mom in this group) that are in my life are not only wide, but they are deep and kind and relentless in their celebratory demonstrations. Every time someone would bring flowers by my house, or send a note, or give me a birthday hug I was overwhelmed once again by the knowledge that my people "have me". These are friends who are so strong and so wise. They have suffered and endured, coming through their fires more beautiful and capable than when they first smelled the smoke.

One of my friends wrote me a blessing - words that are so meaningful that the card will go in a very special place where I can be reminded often of her heart towards me. Another friend both honored and humored me with a tribute related to a favorite TV of mine that I encouraged her to watch. The creativity and true wishes that she conveyed in her writing touched me so deeply. My little sister, skilled in embroidery, made me a picture of a house in a garden. It now hangs on the wall of my office as a reminder of a few of my favorite things - my sister, my home, my garden. My older sister gave me the most beautiful set of bracelets and a tank top with my favorite verse on it, acknowledging a new faith step I'm taking in my yoga practice. My mom blessed me with the gift of a massage - as I lay there relaxing I was struck with the absolute perfection of her gift to me. This year has been one of the most stress-filled 365 days, and my sweet mom understood exactly what I needed.

Two girlfriends blessed me with gifts that fit my love for vintage/retro treasures. Friends took me out for drinks, pizza, mexican food and other deliciousness. I had a group of friends over to celebrate in my garden enjoying both God's gift of friendship and a beautiful summer night. Patrick and I attended a concert with some friends. That night will be a forever memory of us enjoying one of our favorite singers under a perfect, starlit June sky.

I've heard friendship described in many different ways, but the concept that makes the most sense to me is that of friendship as a net. It is widespread and taut, ready to catch me at any moment. This net is ever present, moving beneath me. The women who make up this net are faithful, available, and they know me. I can text or call them and they will answer, they will pray, they will advise, they will cry, they will catch. They are friends who aren't just in proximity, but they are very present. And I need them desperately. I need their hugs and their prayers and their advice and their wisdom. I love their creativity and watching them grow. The truth is we need each other!

As I have been celebrated for nearly a month now, I have had the chance to take a look at the ways that I am a friend. I have great examples of how to show up for people, and I have been inspired to be a better friend, to love more deeply and sincerely. I am most grateful to God that He chose me to sit in the middle of this chosen net of friends. He has shown me over and over that He wants me right there, so that I can be blessed by the people He has given to me.

Remembering

2018-05-28T13:25:00.001-06:00

By definition, Memorial Day is a day set aside to express thanks to those who have served and to offer condolences for those who have been lost or have died. It is a day for remembering, celebrating, and commemorating. Celebrating freedoms that have been won, remembering times of trouble where freedom was lost, and commemorating the people who have sacrificed so that we can have those freedoms. As Americans, we have so many privileges and rights and pleasures that have resulted from those who have gone before us, paving the road to those very ends. I confess that I often take for granted the comfortable American life that I live, not paying enough attention or giving enough credit to the people who have made this comfort a possibility.

Hanging in my dining room there are 2 pictures; one is a picture of my grandpa in his army uniform, the other is a picture of my grandpa in the same uniform accompanied by my grandma in a stylishly matching hat and jacket. My grandpa handed down values of working hard, family loyalty, saving for the future, telling stories so the past was not forgotten. What strikes me about the picture of my grandparents together is that my grandmother was not as praised for her contribution to "war time" because she wasn't directly signed up. But I bet you she worked just as hard and long and well as my grandpa. I remember her being so sweet and kind; always offering a hug and cooking something yummy to eat. She loved to read, garden, and set up knick-knacks around her house... Wait... that sounds like me! I love to read, I love to garden... and well... knick-knacks moset certainly do line the shelves around my house. While my Grandpa influenced the broader scope of freedom that is in my life because of his military service, I feel like I have my Grandmother to thank for the individual influence that was handed down. She was always one to have beauty around her. She decorated her home with pillows on the couch and pretty dishes in the cupboard. My grandma loved to write letters and always had a steno-pad on her desk with a letter that she was just about to start or an envelope just sealed with a flag stamp in the right hand corner, ready to be mailed off to whomever she was corresponding with. Grandma was soft spoken until her favorite football team was on the tv, or if you made the grave mistake of touching her propped up feet while she watched Wheel of Fortune. I also remember how Grandma paid attention to the people that were in her house. She would look you in the eye and just sit on the couch and enjoy sitting with you. I never knew if my grandma had money but I remember that she made others feel rich just from being with her. She always had perfectly folded sheets that she would get out to put on the sofa-beds when we got there; the pretty pile of linens always made me feel so at home. Two of my favorite memories are sitting on the porch with my grandparents on a hot summer night, enjoying silly stories told by my grandpa and wanting to stay and feel the loving presence of my grandma for just 5 more minutes. My love of an outdoor space to put up my feet and spend time with those I love was most assuredly been handed down from my grandma. Cute vintage outdoor chairs, Creamy Italian salad dressing, peonies, the smell of a delicious roast, and mismatched floral plates are all parts of my memory that connect me to my grandma.

Being like my grandma is a life-long pursuit of mine. Her gentle nature while at home, her hospitable ways, and her peaceful presence will be what I choose to remember, celebrate and commemorate today. While the holiday Memorial Day typically focuses on heroes of war, I will be in touch with my memorial to my grandma, one of my personal heroes, today. She raised a family of 4 kids plus my grandpa, she kept a tidy and beautiful home, she went to church, she made people feel loved, she took personal pride in things around her that she loved... such a beautiful life! Thank you, Grandma. I honor and remember the life that you lived, and desire to continue your legacy as the years continue to pass. My grandparents were my absolute favorite people on earth while they were here ( and I like to think that I was one of theirs as well!!) I miss them all the time, and if I could have an evening sitting on the porch with them, in their gliding chairs, it would be the most delightful thing. Because they have passed on, I will just remember, and be thankful for all that is in me that was handed down by them.

quiet

2018-05-23T09:38:00.000-06:00

When a writer doesn't post a blog post for 9 months, you might suspect that they have quit writing altogether. In my case, that is partially true. I quit publishing any written material but I haven't stopped writing. The first few months of no blog activity was purely from being too busy. However, about 4 months ago, a quiet covering came over me; A stillness and a message from the Lord - "Be quiet". I put words back into the Lord's mouth and thought... "oh yeah... Be still and know.. yada yada yada... And then I heard Him more clearly... "Nope that's not what I meant. I meant BE QUIET".

This is not in my nature. I'm a talker, I'm a verbal processor. Being quiet, keeping quiet , STAYING QUIET is not what I'm good at. But, I really felt like for the time it was what I was supposed to do. Thus, I have been practicing quiet. The truth is, as hard as it was for me, there have been times when it has been a relief not to feel like I had to offer my opinion or my judgement or my thoughts. I've still had them and I've written them down in my journal for my own personal processing, but its been for the Lord's and my eyes only. It's been good for me, and now I sense I'm being released to write publicly again.

When I named my blog "The Mama's Thoughts", my plan was to pour out my thoughts about every activity and exciting thing that was going on in our home and with the kids. Looking back, I realize that this plan was naive and slightly silly. It was the plan of someone who's rose colored glasses hadn't been fogged up by her own tears or cracked and smudged by blows to the face. Who cares about a fun activity when your Mama heart is breaking? Who even wants to read or write about the trivial events, when you can't sleep, can't hope, can't breathe?

What I do know for sure about the blog is this... I want to write. I love to write. I need a space to jot down my thoughts about the trivial events as well as the heartbreaks. While honoring the privacy of my kids and family, I still want to express my thoughts through words. It is where I find clarity. It is where I find focus.

"The Mama's Thoughts" might change every so slightly. Maybe it won't even be noticeable? But hopefully my writing will reflect more of what the Lord is teaching me through both the challenging times and the fun times.

Thanks for reading.

And

2017-09-07T16:50:00.004-06:00

"I have a lot of faith and a lot of fear a lot of the time"

- Anne Lamott

School has started back up, and the kids' schedule is cresting the peak of the semester roller coaster. Soon we will be careening fast and furious, around and around, in and out, upside down and right side up. Fortunately, what looks like mayhem is actually quite organized! I am spoiled by carpool and bikes and little legs that carry my kids to and from school, practice, lessons. On normal days, everyone leaves the house by 8 am freeing my own schedule up to start whatever tasks present themselves to me. This is most often work, with a load or 2 of laundry, plus a dishwasher full of dishes. The days come and go, hours ticking by to the metronome of the second hand.

The summer brought activity as well, and we were thrilled to get to go camping, backpacking, fishing, and driving to some beautiful places. The Grand Canyon greeted us with scenery so beautiful it shocked me. The lakes that I paddle boarded on provided contentment and peace as I explored this new hobby. From walks in our own neighborhood, to hikes up mountains far away, our family experienced a great summer of togetherness. It was a final summer having all 6 of us live at home as our oldest has now moved into the dorms at her college. As we checked off the days of summer, we moved closer to the new changes and experiences that were ahead.

Whenever there is "new" in the family, it seems like it brings significant change to my mama heart. It has to learn to beat a new rhythm, feel new feelings, dance a new dance. I'm not a super big fan of Change, yet I know that it is a part of our family, acting as another member demanding time and attention just like everyone else. Now I don't have a Christmas stocking for "change" or have a place at the table for "change" - I don't even know how old he/she is... but I know that Change lives here with us. Change affects us, and challenges us, and requires that we listen and pay attention to it.

One morning, I sat in my favorite chair on the front porch praying. One of the kids had made some choices earlier in the summer that had me all tied up in knots. Through tears, I told the Lord... "I cannot breathe over this." My admission came from a place of desperation because when you aren't breathing, you aren't living. And I felt dead. Even though we were having a summer full of outdoor activities and fun family outings, I was basically walking dead all the way through them; pasting on a smile and doing my "job" as the mom, all the while holding my breath, drowning because of how my world had changed. As I sat there crying out to Jesus, I felt Him say to my spirit "Let's start with the basics. Inhale. Exhale". Ironically, I will tell the kids when they are hurt or crying that we are going to do yoga breathing... "Inhale. Exhale". Just the basics. I felt like God was tapping into something I already knew... that the basics was what I was being instructed to do. Nothing fancy, just in and out.

That very day, I decided to move with the changes rather than against them, and slowly work on breathing again. Inhale - Receive God's help. Exhale - Believe He is with me. Inhale trust - Nothing is too hard for my Sovereign Lord. Exhale Fear - My God is holding my hand telling me He will help me. Day after day, this practice became my very way to live. I had to speak God's word over these changes that had been threaded through our summer months or else I was going to die inside. When I was speaking, I was breathing. When I was breathing the trauma felt manageable, the fear less monstrous.

Now, I spend moments every day with a set of note cards that have written reminders of God's love, His faithfulness and my dependence on Him. The oxygen of my soul is the scriptures I have copied from my Bible onto the cards. I am fearful, AND I am faithful. I am terrified AND I am trusting. What I have learned this summer is that the expectation isn't that I must be one or the other. Some days, most days, I am both. There are minutes I feel stronger and some weaker. But just because I have fear, doesn't mean I don't have faith. And just because I trust in my Heavenly Father, doesn't mean that there aren't moments where I'm terrified. My therapist said that when a body/mind/spirit/heart/soul goes through a trauma (the changes that I went through), it's a little bit like being struck by lightning. All circuits are shorted out, all connections need reattached, portions of whatever has been struck are broken or paralyzed. Her words identified exactly where I was at. Paralyzed, broken, unattached. As Catherine Wolf so eloquently taught me this year through her book "Hope Heals", there is a phenomenon called Post Traumatic Growth Syndrome. The thought that even when you encounter suffering, or hardship in traumatic ways, there is the possibility of growing through it, rather than just stressing through it. But growth requires breath. Without oxygen, there is no life. So I must continue to breathe, and choose to move with the changes that come, and relax in the rhythm of "Inhale. Exhale" to the praise and Glory of my Emmanuel.

Quote by Ann Voskamp

June

2017-07-13T08:37:00.001-06:00

This morning, Facebook re-told me the story of June. It showed pictures and words that highlighted the events that I had decided were worth mentioning. A slideshow of happy faces and pretty places was on display, reminding me of how much fun the month was. And the truth is that the month WAS great. and yet... I also knew that it wasn't ALL great. I knew the truth that we had endured some moments in June that didn't get posted; hours spent in places that I wanted to hide from the world. I had cried countless tears, and prayed innumerable un-posted prayers.

Social media is an interesting thing. On the one hand, it keeps a record of the wonderful moment we have. It holds the memories of what we felt worthy of sharing. What isn't posted, doesn't get shared; in fact it's as if it never happened. But that doesn't mean it didn't, doesn't mean we don't remember. We just bear it without audience. Many times, I will be with a girlfriend and she will mention something I posted and ask a question or make a comment. But where is the platform to share the un-postable stuff? The things that nobody would want to press "like" on. I find myself staying silent more than I want to. Keeping the hard things close to my chest. It isn't that I want people to only think that my life is grand, or delude folks into thinking that my days go by trouble-free. Surely, we are all better in touch with reality than that. But I think that I imagine sharing my sad heart and then I entertain the thought that in sharing my burden I will experience rejection. Sadly, this has happened before, and in the back of my self-protective mind I hear "You're too much... You're too sad... You're too... TOO." So I stay quiet with only my thoughts to accompany the moments that don't deserve a "like", wishing that I didn't feel TOO much; hoping that I'm wrong when I do actually send the text that says... " Please pray - I'm hurting".

Don't get me wrong... in the last month I HAVE sent the SOS text, I HAVE made the phone call hollering "HELP"!! I have first-responder -folks, and I am eternally grateful. But as I walk out my front door into the real world, I feel like I need protected. Protection from what people THINK life is like, unless they know. Protection from the assumptions and the ideals. Protection from my own disappointment from the truth that life isn't what I thought it would be. As I read one of my favorite passages, Psalm 121, I find that the Lord Himself is that protection. It says

"The Lord watches over you - the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord will keep you from all harm - He will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.

I read a post on Instagram that challenged me. It was a picture of medical supplies that live in this dad's house, supplies that help his sick son to take breaths. In this post, highlighting the medical supplies sitting in his kitchen, the writer said...

"These are not the scenes in life you plan for, but if you stop trying to control them, they'll tell you how they are beautiful."

While I am not yet as progressed as this dad, I am daily trying to be thankful for the unplanned scenes in my life. Interrupted sleeps, trips to the ER, heartaches and heart breaks. I'm not great with the unplanned, with things that take me by surprise. I prefer some prep-time for most of life. I'm behind in my goal to be "ok" with things; chastising myself that I should feel better by now. But if only you could see my efforts. I am trying, hoping, asking for God's strength to carry me even in the things that are unplanned by me.

Deuteronomy 31:8
The Lord Himself goes before you (PREPARATION!!)
and will be with you.
He will never leave you nor forsake you.
Do not be afraid;
Do not be discouraged."

2017-04-25T12:02:00.001-06:00

It's five short weeks until school is officially out!! The list of things to do is longer than the days we have to do them! Concerts and projects, meetings and deadlines. We have a reading log that might NEVER be finished because it's for my youngest child, and well... I'm not going to lie - I am pretty tired of signing my name to a reading log. Must press on... Must press on...

Two major endings are upon us. We have one mini who is graduating from elementary school, and one mini who is graduating from high school. Both occasions call for great celebration and We. Are. On. It!!!!! The years that the kids have spent at both schools have been been full of things that have educated their minds AND shaped their personalities.

When Marky first stepped onto the high school campus, I wouldn't have ever imagined what blessings were coming. Dance team, jazz choir, concerts, friends, opportunities for travel, games to attend. It has been 4 years of constant go-go-go, and we have loved it. Now, this child is ready. Cooked. SUPER ready for the next phase of life. Adulting. Just like high school, I'm guessing that she will find it mostly fun, sometimes challenging, and always full of growing opportunities. She was born for greatness and this is such an exciting time for her.

We've spent 13 consecutive years with 4 kids at our elementary school. All of the kids walking the same halls, driving the same route to school, sharing many of the same teachers year after year. We've had amazing years here and we have had some years that we just had to get through (4th grade girls - ICK!!!). There have been 4 different principlals, and so many teachers that we adored, (also too many substitute teachers that the kids did NOT adore!!) jump rope competitions and ECO week, talents shows, book bowl competitions and too many concerts to count. Year after year, the kids have duplicated drawings and repeated school projects, each one designed to be the same yet finished with their own unique touch. No two have looked alike, all four done completely different, yet all meeting the same criteria - DO YOUR BEST! And this boy has!! He has made some amazing friends and accomplished great things, and now he can't wait to join sister #3 at the middle school.

We're leaving these schools better than when we started them. This oldest child and this youngest child, saying farewell to all of the good that they've done, and carrying with them all of the GREAT things that they have been entrusted with. Strong character, great minds, and memories for a lot of tomorrows.

Motherhood

2016-05-07T18:43:00.001-06:00

Tomorrow will mark my 18th Mother's Day. My first thought after child number one was born was, “We're going to have so much fun!”. Three more children and a bunch of fun later, I have arrived at a Mother's Day that looks differently than I had imagined it would some 18 years ago, yet I am grateful and humbled by the blessings that have been poured out on my life because I get to be a mom. Being a mom doesn't make me a more superior creature than those who haven't chosen to be a mom. It just so happens that motherhood is what God decided to use to continually sanctify and purify my heart, soul, and mind. He has asked me to be more patient, through motherhood. He has challenged me to die to myself, through motherhood. He has encouraged me to surrender to His authority, through motherhood. He has tethered my mother-fears to His sovereignty. He has taught me to trust in His goodness, through motherhood. He has taught me to love unconditionally, through motherhood. He has carried me through seasons of grief and times of sadness, because of motherhood. He has revealed my sin and selfishness, through motherhood. He helps me with my control issues, through motherhood. He has blessed me with joy beyond description, through motherhood. He has taken me on adventures, through motherhood. He has given me the opportunity to feel enormous pride in the successes of others, through motherhood. He has allowed me to be overwhelmed with delight and overcome with frustration, through motherhood. He has given me 4 disciples to raise to love Him with all that they are, because He chose ME to be their mom.

Before I arrived at motherhood, I believed that hard things were bad things, so I steered clear of challenges, hugging the inside curve of the easy path. However, once I heard the first cry of my oldest daughter, I knew that my heart was forever destined to love intensely, always thinking about someone else's needs before my own. At that first-cry-moment, I took a sharp left turn onto a road unlike another I had ever been on: a road that would curve sharply, detour often, and twist and turn like a winding river. All of a sudden, I knew for sure that I would lay down my life for another person, that I would give up sleep, sanity, and security in order to care for my kids. What I didn't know is that I would take on enemies and circumstances that were bigger than me in order to protect them. I had no idea that I would enter courtrooms and classrooms, ready to fight for their well-being, or sit on a sideline or in an audience, fiercely believing that MY KID was the best player/dancer/singer in the bunch. And through it all, God has been so good to care for this fearful, exhausted, imperfect, faith-filled, stubborn, head-over-heels-in-love with her children mom. My mom-confidence does not come from anything that I can do on my own, it lies in the fact that God will never change; that He will be with me for the next decade, and the decade after that, and the one after that. Because He gave me the privilege of motherhood, I know that He will equip me and sustain me to be the mom that each one of my kids needs, whether the road is hard and difficult or easy and smooth. That's motherhood! A journey of expected challenges and unexpected joys. One that has changed, grown and blessed me in countless ways.

Normal Day

2016-03-28T11:11:00.000-06:00

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.”
― Mary Jean Irion

Nearly 3 months after my last post, I sit here in my comfy chair, warmed by the sun, thinking back on all that we've been through in this short period of time.

Grief has made it's way into my life and seeped into every crack of my heart. Tears flow regularly, lubricating the emotions that I feel. I don't think that the grief I'm experiencing is a bad thing. "There is a time for everything..." It's just that I'm usually not someone who spends a lot of time feeling ONE THING, and lately, all I feel is this overwhelming sadness over this interruption into our lives; this diagnosis that changes how care-free my daughter can live. Grief has watered seeds of fear that haven't sprouted in years, causing anxiety that I long ago put out of my life. It's also caused me to loosen the possessive "mom-grip" that I tend to have on my kids, knocking out all insane notions that I am in any way in control of anything. Daily, I am challenged to let go of my fears and to trust God in ways that I should have been all along. I read scripture that reminds me that He loves us and is watching over my kids. I find myself time and time again throughout the day bringing my concerns to the Lord, seeking His strength and His peace.

It's not all bad to have the depths of your heart woken up a bit. It's a great thing to seek comfort in God's word and to trust more fully in His presence and His promises. Desperation makes me cry out even more to my Heavenly Father and His perfect peace never fails when I choose to bring myself honestly and fully to Him. It's been a blessing to come together with Patrick in our collective thoughts and feelings about our girl, Maddie. To have him as my partner in the good AND hard of life is one of the best ways that God has ever shown His love to me. I have found great peace in music and in rest.
These are the good things that come from leaning into the feelings that have accompanied this unexpected life-change. Admittedly, I long to move through the stages of grief more quickly and to set up camp in Acceptance. I feel like here is where I will be able to relax and hang out with less sadness. However, I know there is value to each step of this journey, so for now, I'm willing to just take the next right step.

Maddie is a strong warrior who is walking down this path set out before her with such strength and such poise. She is brave and capable and most of all, full of laughter and life. I admire her capacity to take in this unexpected and challenging hardship and still live life with an abundance of joy.

Normal days are becoming more normal again. So often, I have taken them for granted. But now, I'm just grateful for them. Over the last few months we've had days of soccer, Sunday afternoon fishing trips, a fantastic Spring Break trip to Moab, and Patrick and I even got away for a quick trip to SF. Life is not perfect or easy, but it is most certainly beautiful and one to be treasured.

Psalm 71

Winter Words

2015-12-24T13:29:00.001-07:00

Maddie and I went from the doctor's office to the lab on a regular Tuesday. We were impatient, finding fault with the PA's order that Maddie get blood drawn. All we could think about was how annoying the wait at the lab was going to be, how dinner was going to be delayed, and that Maddie's friend was going to have to wait on us. As I sat on the hard, plastic chair listening to name after name be called, the thought of "What if?" came to my mind. "What if" something is wrong? "What if" she is sick. "What if" they never call our name and we are stuck at the lab for forever... "What if" it's serious? and more...

Our name did finally get called, and Maddie rolled up her sleeve and rolled her eyes, thinking how unnecessary this blood draw was. She felt fine. Well, not fine, but fine enough. So fine that her plans for the evening were to spend time with her bestie! Sure, Maddie had experienced some strange health issues over the past 6 months, but they were things that we treated and endured and "fixed".

As inconvenient as going to the lab on a cold December afternoon was, somehow I knew it was necessary. My instinct had taken her to the doctor and now my gut was telling me that something was really wrong. Two hours later, I got a call with the lab results and a diagnosis of Type 1 diabetes. We were given instructions to make our way to the ER for immediate treatment.   As I stood in the Target parking lot, accepting a phone call that would alter our lives, I was filled with doubt. Not believing for a second that we needed to rush to the ER, I questioned the PA incessantly. She politely overlooked my doubts and told me that she had confirmed the plans with the doctor, and that I was welcome to call him - which I did. His caller ID announced me; "Heather", our pediatrician and friend answered. "Is it true?" I asked. "Is it diabetes?". Pause... "Yes." "And we need to go tonight"? "Yes". "Will you call ahead for us". "Yes. I'm so sorry. This is life changing and you can handle it."

I'll never forget going downstairs to Maddie's room to give her the news of the diagnosis and the urgency with which we needed to get her help. Oblivious to what had transpired, her music was blaring and her pretty voice was singing. I knocked on her door, and quietly told her what was going on. I'll also never forget how much she trusted me and how quickly she responded even though she was filled with her own doubts. You would have thought we had rehearsed tossing our belongings into overnight bags, as if we had planned this from the beginning of the day. The other kids at home had questions that we didn't have answers to, there were plans that had to be made so that things at home were taken care of. And like clockwork, God's grace kicked in. It's really the only explanation for how smoothly the chaos was managed.

Arriving at the hospital provided some peace in the middle of the turmoil. We were uneducated about T1D, and had no idea how much we would learn in a very short period of time. What we were assured of by the nurses and doctors that cared for Maddie is that she would start feeling much better, soon.   Even though we were reeling from the events of the past hour, we took great comfort in knowing that we had found out what was causing the recent and strange health issues.

We spent the night at the hospital while Maddie's blood sugar was monitored. Looking back now, I was in shock yet played the part of "capable Mom" well. An Oscar worthy performance perhaps. Being strong for my daughter and husband, assuring everyone that we were going to be okay, never for a second believing my own voice. But I felt that God was near. I couldn't see Him or touch Him, but I know He stayed with me in the hospital room that night. I don't think He was fooled a bit by my acting, but He knows me best and knew what I needed. He's like that, showing up and handling things when we cannot.

Although the diagnosis of T1D is not the end of the world, it has most definitely rocked ours. However, we have amazing doctors and nurses that are educating and supporting us. We have had 3 weeks practice at blood sugar draws and insulin injections, and Maddie feels like a super-hero (her words :)) because she has mastered giving herself shots. We have emergency stashes of food and candy and medicine. A sharps container hides behind the coffee pot on the kitchen counter. A drawer has been emptied of kitchen utensils in order to make room for diabetes supplies. Logs are kept of carbs and units of insulin. Food is weighed and calculated.

Maddie is a rock-star. She is capable and strong, and although she gets scared and tired, she doesn't spend time feeling sorry for herself.

Right now, I am pretending to be okay; faking it for a bit; continuing to play the part I began learning that first night. "We'll be okay". "We can manage this". "We'll be fine". Pasting a smile on my face and carrying on, because it's what I do, what I'm known for. It's what folks want to hear from me. They want to know that I'll take care of things, and that I have the faith to handle this. It's what friends believe about me; it's what I usually believe about myself. But really, I'm not okay. The truth is that I am scared about my daughter's health. I'm anxious about her future. I question our ability to manage this disease in a life that is so busy and full. I worry about not being strong enough for all of us, because I know that deep down I'm weak and selfish and ill-equipped. But I also know that God is here and that He loves us. My faith in Him isn't just for the great times, but it's for these difficult times. I believe that that these dark days that I'm living in are not dark to Him. I know that when the grief overwhelms me and my inadequacies appear greater than my abilities He is here, holding me and watching out for Maddie. I know it, I just don't feel it all the time. My comfort is found in scripture, because it tells me the truth and that is what I need so desperately. I think back to the afternoon that I sat in the waiting room at the lab, before we knew what we know now, my "What if" questions coming to mind. Even in my sadness, I am comforted by my own conclusion that the God that walked with us into the lab is the same God that walked with us out of the lab.   Maddie's diagnosis didn't cause Him to change His promises or care of us. He hasn't altered His presence or His sovereignty. He is so full of grace and love and compassion for Maddie, for me, for our family. He has showed us His goodness in so many ways and even in this hard circumstance, we are blessed.

Psalm 139:11-12

"If I say 'Surely the darkness will overwhelm me, and the light around me

will be night'; Even the darkness is not dark to You, and the night is as bright as the day.

Darkness and light are alike to You."

Psalm 23:1-4

"The Lord is my Shepherd. I shall not want.

You have bedded me down in lush meadows, you find me quiet pools to drink from.

True to your word, you let me catch my breath, and send me in the right direction.

Even when the way goes through Death Valley,

I'm not afraid when you walk at my side.

Your trusty Shepherd's crook makes me feel secure."

weekend seats

2015-10-13T15:55:00.002-06:00

The wet grass stuck to my boots as I trudged across the wet soccer field. 45 minutes early to the game, per the coach's instruction, I set up my red chair and took my place on the sidelines. It was a gorgeous, autumn Saturday for soccer. Hot pink socks, new to the team for the month of October, adorned the fast legs of #14, the boy I had come to watch. Our preparation for the game had started earlier in the week as we had talked about the competition. "You're going to play great!" was the mantra that I had repeated over and over. At home, we prayed for the game and "oiled" him up for the game (Young Living Oils); in the car Michael played his favorite playlist, songs to inspire him. He was ready. I sat in my soccer spot, delighting in watching my son do what he loves. Not only is he skilled at the technique of soccer he is also a strong team-player, an encourager, and a coach-able player. I love the camaraderie that the collective parents share as we cheer on our boys. Saturday soccer has become one of my favorite activities. The game ended in a tie, both teams fighting hard. As I packed up my chair and headed back across the field, my heart welled up with gratitude for these opportunities that Michael has to play well, to be coached by an incredible coach, and to get to have fun with his friends.

My minivan is literally my favorite thing, and the seat I sit in is one of my favorite seats. Really, I view it as a place of honor that I was chosen for, a location from where I fulfill this calling on my life of motherhood. From this special seat, I navigate around our lovely town carpooling numerous kiddos, getting groceries, taking friends places. etc. Saturday, I got to take Meredith to a birthday party for one of her good friends. My sweet girl is just the best kind of friend. If I was 11, I would want Meredith on my team of friends. She is loyal and kind, she looks to meet the needs of others, and she is constantly thinking about her friends. I love listening to her process the relationships that she has. Nearly knee deep in middle school, she has keen observations about what her friends say, what they wear, who they are, how they feel. She has extreme empathy and is less worried about herself fitting in and much more aware of how to help her friends fit in. I love how much she loves her friends. God created Meredith to be a good friend, and it is a blessing to watch the joy in her spirit when she gets to be with her special friends. .

Later on Saturday, I drove to south Denver to watch Maddie and her band participate in a competition. The fall sun beat down on us as we watched from the metal bleachers. Band after band after band took the field and performed their current show. Parents and directors wore t shirts in their school's colors, words written across chests and backs proclaiming school pride. There was a crispness in the air as we anticipated the FRHS show. They are the best at what they do and they have the trophies to prove it. Hours of rehearsals paying off on this one night. I glanced to my left during a rival school's performance and noticed that our band was coming onto the field. Pride flooded my heart and goosebumps covered my body as I watched them line up. I am privy to the knowledge of why they have their backs to the field - it's to keep them focused, and it does. The pomp and circumstance surrounding their presentation thrills me as I wait for them to make their final march to the field. I've heard the music before, yet I just can't wait for that first note from the xylophones. Maddie starts her dance between the 40 and 50 yard line. I see her from my stadium seat, my heart sending out prayers for strength to catch her flag every time, which she does. Occasionally I lose sight of her as she moves about the field but throughout the performance my mama energy is focused on her. My beautiful red head has persevered through hours of stress and practice and has emerged as a skilled member of this excellent marching band. My emotions are raw, and I can't hold back the tears of gratitude that flow in honor of all that Maddie has achieved.

It's now Sunday morning, the day that we go to church. . "Who is coming to church this morning?" the text says. "Everyone" I write back. Marky has been rehearsing since 7:30, pumpkin spice latte in hand to assist with the early hour. I arrive at church and we make eye contact across the sanctuary. She moves towards me and I give her a hug that somehow I know that she needs. "You're going to do great", I say. Her shy smile and shallow breathing show me that she is nervous. We part ways and I take my seat on the cushioned pew. I have sat in this seat countless times. I have worshiped in the place countless hours. The comfort and peace that our church gives our family is a blessing. When Marky was 8, she told me that her 2 favorite places in the world were Grandma's house and our church. I feel the same way. It's a safe place to be, a familiar place to go. I watched Marky take her seat at the piano on stage, a piano that I have sat at many times myself. I listened to the notes that she played, oblivious to all other sounds. This sweet child of God, serving Him with the gifts that He has given to her. I'm standing now, arms raised, praising my Lord who has made Marky's life so beautiful. In this very space, many years prior, I begged God to help me and my girls. I cried out to Him to take the pain and shame of divorce, and turn it into something beautiful for my daughters. Sunday, I felt God tell me "I heard you. Just look at her.." God was so faithful to answer those cries for me and my girls, and on Sunday, from the fingers of my daughter, I heard Him whisper "I love you."

Many different seats this weekend to enjoy this life I've been given. Kids to celebrate and cherish. Evey moment giving an opportunity to say "That's my kid! Aren't they amazing?"

Fall

2015-10-06T23:05:00.000-06:00

I'm reading a book right now called "Rising Strong". So far it's been a fantastic book, filled with encouragement and insight. Of course it's good, it's by Brene Brown who tends to write as if she has just finished reading my personal journal, offering solutions to every negative or destructive thought I've had throughout the day. A strange thing happened while I was reading the other day. The previous night did not offer much quality sleep so I was tired and my clarity of thought was feeble as I was turning pages, but every time I read the word "fall" my tired eyes and brain changed the word to "fail". What the what?? This book was about getting back up strong after a fall, not about failing! As I have mulled over my crazy word exchange, I feel as if I have peeked deep into my soul at one of my biggest fears. The fear of failing. Interestingly enough, I don't fear falling. I expect falling and I have a pretty good track record of dusting myself off and getting back up. But FAILING? Well now, thats just unacceptable. And what's the difference? Well, it seems like I attach failing with my intentions, and I see falling related more to something unexpected happening. If I'm unprepared for something and I fall, I don't see that as failure, I just see it as I have to try again. Failiure on the other hand debilitates me and does a number on my self-esteem, telling me I'm not good enough to try again. Both have to do with worthiness. Am I worthy enough to take another try at something whether I fall OR fail? Letting go of past failures doesn't have to be ongoing. I CAN just. let. go. And trust that falling and failing don't have to lead to defeat. My Jesus will make me victorious, fighting the battles I face FOR me. Exodus 14:14 says, "The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still." Stillness in the falling and failing. An attitude of my heart that trusts Him in every situation, knowing that whether I fall or fail or stand or succeed, He is holding me. And everything I know about who my God is will quiet my fears and steady my feet.

Safety first

2015-08-17T09:18:00.000-06:00

She was born in the winter. At less than six pounds she was tiny and mighty. I marveled at her completeness, her "person-ness". Immediately after hearing that she was a girl, my heart was filled with visions of dolls, and Mother/Daughter outfits, and moments spent reading "Anne of Green Gables" together. I thought "We are going to have so much fun together." Because this was my first mommy rodeo, I listened intently to the instructions given by nurses and doctors on how to take care of my baby girl. Before we left the hospital, I carefully read through every pamphlet, fearful that I would miss something important. We arrived home 4 days later, tired and emotional but so excited for our future together.

I showed up to her one-month check up, early in December, cold and flu season swirling around us. I trekked through the slushy parking lot, car seat in hand, baby girl covered with hand-knitted blankets and a cute, cuddly outfit. She was gaining weight slowly, but still so small. The pediatrician told me that because of her size, age and the time of year it was, she was vulnerable. That didn't change that she was growing, it just meant that the doctor was telling me to exercise caution with how much she was out and about, who she was around, and how many germs she was exposed to. As this kind medical authority talked to me, first time mother, I soaked up every instruction to my very marrow. I left the office with one item on my To-Do list... Keep Her Safe. Other items on the list moved out of the way to create space for this, my now main priority. Keep my sweet little baby girl safe. She was vulnerable. Not weak, just susceptible to unwanted things considering the season of the year that we were in. With marching orders in hand, and narry another parent (step or otherwise) in sight, I took my baby girl home. I remember that for close to 2 months, other than the occasional visit to the grandparents, we just stuck around the house, where it was safe.

Over the 16 years that sweet daughter and I have been a team, other folks and situations have arrived on the scene. Siblings and step-parents, teachers and boyfriends, coaches and BFFs. Her world has expanded into dance teams and school and dual homes and youth group and all sorts of extra curricular activities. She is amazing and capable and still growing, but still so small. Small, not in her maturity, but small in years; Her youth causing her to be vulnerable to life's harsh, unfair conditions. She is still tiny and mighty, and her mom's to-do list hasn't changed. 4 kids and nearly 17 years later, the primary responsibility given to me during that December visit to the pediatrician has remained the same. Protect them, keep them safe. Motherhood has taught me that both of these things look differently at different stages of the kids' life and depending on the kid. Crawlers need protected from stairs and electrical outlets, toddlers from streets and hot stoves. School aged kids need protected from the bullies and teens need protected from the pressures of the world.

If you step foot in a cell phone retailer, one of the things they will try to sell you is a case. Quite possibly they will tell you how much you need a case that is the end-all-be-all protector to your phone. Protects it from water, spills, drops, accidents. When you check out a library book there will be cellaphane wrapper covering the cover of the book, protecting the book from your careless actions. Air bags surround every nook and cranny of your car, and the first instructions given when you board an airplane is how to properly stow your belongings for their safest arrrival. Safety and protection is a big thing for all of the"big things" in life. How much more precious are our kids then our things? Why do we invest $$ and time protecting things that can easily be replaced and yet we minimize and ridicule the protectiveness of a mother, labeling her "over-protective", " controlling" and "out to ruin their child's life". I understand that of course there needs to be a balance - neither all or nothing is good - but when did it become popular and accepted to let kids raise themselves? Hands-off parenting allows our kids to watch things and experience things that their innocent eyes and hearts aren't ready for. It hurries them along to a maturity that their vulnerable selves aren't prepared for. "Letting go" has become so trendy, there's even a song to support this parenting philosophy.

I have always loved this story, told by the late Corrie ten Boom, holocaust survivor, imprisoned for her actions of helping hide Jews in WWII. She writes "

“And so seated next to my father in the train compartment, I suddenly asked, "Father, what is sexsin?"
He turned to look at me, as he always did when answering a question, but to my surprise he said nothing. At last he stood up, lifted his traveling case off the floor and set it on the floor.
Will you carry it off the train, Corrie?" he said.
I stood up and tugged at it. It was crammed with the watches and spare parts he had purchased that morning.
It's too heavy," I said.
Yes," he said, "and it would be a pretty poor father who would ask his little girl to carry such a load. It's the same way, Corrie, with knowledge. Some knowledge is too heavy for children. When you are older and stronger, you can bear it. For now you must trust me to carry it for you.”

― Corrie ten Boom, The Hiding Place

I just love this. Protective, wise parenting. Knowing that when it's time, Child of mine, you will be ready. But for now, no matter what adversity I come up against, no matter who's voice shouts accusations and untruths at me, I will protect you. I will keep you safe. And then... When it's time. I promise - I will let go. Not of you, never of you, but of my responsibility. When you become an adult, I will be released from my job. Until then, I will pray for your safety, I will be careful and thoughtful in how I mother you, and I will love you and protect you no matter what.

The Perfect Body

2015-08-13T13:56:00.000-06:00

It's that time of year where all folks in media and in real life are wearing less clothes, showing us what they have and what they don't. It's also the time of year where its easier to be active because the weather is cooperative and enjoyable! The perfect body seems to be something that we are desperately trying to achieve, yet it seems far out of our reach. We compare ourselves to other people, both Hollywood stars and our neighbors. We suffer from food and exercise related disorders. Our minds are hoodwinked about the truth about our bodies. What if we started looking at our bodies as what they already are? Perfect! What if we changed our thoughts to embrace the truth that we have the perfect body. For us.

One of my daughters is involved in the marching band at her school. For the past 2 weeks, she has had to march in the heat and practice on average 5 hours per day. Her body needs to be one that doesn't succumb to the outside heat or the internal fatigue brought on by the hours of practice. And she's doing it! Not once has she sat down and quit. Her body is the perfect body FOR HER at this time. It is doing for her exactly what she needs it to! My other daughters dance, and my son plays soccer. Each one of them has a body that does the activity that they desire to do. We talk often about being grateful for the ways that our body helps us out.

This summer I have needed a perfect body to help me hike, carry multiple bags of groceries, balance on a paddle-board, transport a sleepy 9 year old from the car to his bed, stand for hours on end during my work day, walk long walks embracing alone time with my husband, and ride on a water roller coaster ride with my girls. Guess what? My body has done everything I asked it to. Therefore it is the perfect body. For me. Because of this, I have been thanking my body for doing the things I ask it to. I am trying to embrace it, knowing that its perfection lies in its appearance and more in its performance, which is everything to me.

What has your perfect body done for you this summer?

Can I get an Epidural?

2015-08-09T22:31:00.001-06:00

I think that when the baby is 10 years old, the mom should get another chance at that epidural.

And then again at 13.

And maybe one more chance before the little chick flies completely away.

Growing pains. Those sharp stabs that cause discomfort and pain. Every day there seems to be a new place in mothering that I run into one of these. Places where I doubt and question everything I am doing. Dark spots where it seems impossible that anything good could come of things.

But growth means good things are coming, right? Around the corner maybe? If I just hang on?

Days like today, where I feel like everything went wrong, I tend to forget that we usually get things right. My short term memory lapses and I slip away into a foggy place where parenting feels hopeless. A place where failure and insult knock loudly at the door. It's in these places where that epidural would come in handy. Something to numb those pains of growth.

In spite of these pains, I know that growth usually means that something great is about ready to bloom and with enough time, and patience, (and a little bit of wine and chocolate) we will uncover something new. And even when some days bomb, I must remember that there is mercy that is new each morning. Mercy that might feel a little bit like an epidural.

PS - School starts back up in 10 days. Can I get an AMEN?

Perfectly Imperfect

2015-07-09T23:49:00.003-06:00

The thing about summer that I am embracing is that most days are just perfectly imperfect. There are messes, there are arguments, there are tantrums, there are mistakes, there are blowups, there are missteps. And in all of these, we have the chance and the opportunity to make something beautiful out of something not-so-beautiful. This summer, I decided on Proverbs 15:15 to be our theme verse. The girls and I are all on Instagram (#awesome!!) so we even developed hashtags for our summer verse. The verse is all about whether you want to choose to be miserable OR whether you want to choose to be cheerful. Every day, its a choice, And you get exactly what you choose. The best part is that because of grace, you can always change your mind. It's been such a good reminder about the power that we have to take our "imperfectness" and be okay with it. To recognize when we've hurt someone and ask forgiveness; to realize that we've overdone it in an area and so we make a u-turn; to clean up a misunderstanding with a friend; to show compassion to a family member who might not deserve it.

Summer is just a short story of the year. It's story that each one of us is contributing to. One that is ever-changing and completelly unpredicatable. It has chapters that are full of adventure, interesting characters, twists and turns, ups and downs. From beginning to end, it is a story of love, laughter, and most of all the Lord's faithfulness. I'm grateful to be one of the quirkiest characters in our story.

#choosecheerful

recap

2015-06-03T11:00:00.001-06:00

ENJOYING : time alone AND time with friends

WATCHING : this movie - Just such a great one!!

DRINKING: yummy coffee and delicious Sangria. This was the best recipe!!

DOING: gardening, working in the yard, making a birthday cake, planning a birthday party.

READING : "The Forgotten Seamstress" and "Ordinary Grace"

STUDYING : "Fight Back with Joy"... again. This study was so wonderful the first time that I did it and I just wanted to ruminate a little bit more in it. So I bought another book and I'm watching the videos again. It's so worth it.

EATING : While my family has been gone, I've eaten pasta. and more pasta!! It's not everyone's favorite thing around here, but it IS mine! SO....I cooked it for myself 3 times since everyone has been away :).

MISSING : All of my peeps. Truly! Three of them are on their way home right now, and the big girls have 5 days left on their trip.

It's been wonderful to have some time "off" but I'm ready to get back to work. I am meant to be the mama and the wife, the keeper of the details, the leader of this pack. It's my calling and my purpose and... turns out it's also my joy. It's where my heart is, it's where my passion is, and since we've all been apart my heart has grown fonder of all of the little birdies in my nest. Now it's time to get back together and get this summer party started.

AND...

Today is our little brown-eyed girl's birthday. Meredith Grace is 11 today. She is absolutely the life of our family. She is funny, bright, has the biggest dreams, and we couldn't be more delighted to celebrate her today.

Happy Birthday, my darling little one.

a June break

2015-06-02T12:59:00.000-06:00

I wasn't planning on having this kind of vacation. I was planning on going on a short trip to the Sand Dunes for 4 days. But at the last minute, I approached sweet hubby with the idea that I stay at home while he and the little ones went on our planned vacation, and the big girls were away on their summer vacation. He very quickly agreed, nodding vigorously, proving to me that we ALL needed a break from each other.

Last Friday, the big girls packed their bags to go to Mexico on a 9 day trip. Sunday morning the rest of the family loaded up the van with their bags to head to southern Colorado for a 4 day trip. The pup, the kitty and the mama stayed home.

It has been a much needed few hours of quiet, solitude and peace. Hours that I didn't really know that I needed. But with a few days under my belt I realized that I indeed had short circuited my time, my energy, my focus. I needed to re-charge these batteries and that is exactly what I've done.

I have been spending time outside walking. I've watched some favorite movies. I bought some cut flowers that I put around the house. There have been bottles of wine opened and pages of books cracked. I had dinner with one friend, talked on the phone to other friends, taken pictures, surfed the internet mindlessly and of course I've cleaned. Scrubbed bathrooms and floors, dusted and straightened up. I went through all of the piles and I've trashed what needed trashed and recycled what could be recycled. There is a pitcher of Sangria chilling in the fridge that will be shared with a few friends tonight as we enjoy the beautiful garden that is blooming. AND...

I've missed the kids and the hubs.

Not constantly, but it's been there. There is a noticeable difference in the noise, in the demands, in the chaos.

But for 3 1/2 days, it has been so wonderful.

A break that I didn't even know that I needed.

June - the springboard to so many wonderful events and memories and moments.

And here is the plan for the summer for this mama.

Proverbs 15:15

"A miserable heart means a miserable life;

A cheerful heart fills the day with song."

Every. Single. day. I am going to choose to have a cheerful heart. Whatever it takes!! According to the dictionary, cheerful means "noticeable happy and optimistic; causing happiness by its nature or appearance." This is the plan, folks. I am going to choose cheerful rather than miserable. It's up to me!!! Happy Summer to all!!!

2015-05-20T14:49:00.001-06:00

Dear Sweet younger Mama,

I see you every Sunday, sitting in church with your little girls.  Usually, your daughters are wearing matching dresses, often their long hair has been braided (by you?) or curled. They sit very quietly, proper. I gaze from a few pews back with fondness, remembering those days when my own 3 daughters were dressed and coifed and behaved to my liking. I sit back with envy at the ease and beauty that you live in. I think back to the "easiness" of challenges like getting the girls ready for church, the simplicity of those days tugging at my heart.

My thoughts towards you are kind, although tinged with sentimentality of an easier time. I smile because I've been where you are. Those were beautiful days, and I probably didn't cherish them enough. I don't envy you the ages of your kids because I am happy that I'm further along down this road of mothering. However, I miss some of the compliance and sweetness... because, I know what you don't ... That some day soon, you are going to enter a new place.   A darker, crazier, unfamiliar, place where you feel lost most days. It's more like a black tunnel, less like a black hole. You know that it is taking you somewhere new. It's similar to a passage way leading from one stage to the next. Inside this passage way you will experience sadness, pain, surprise, and ecstasy all swirling around you at various time. There will be pain and there will also be joy. The joy won't last long, but it will occasionally come. Hormones really only allow for about 3 great days per month.

The ways that you parent and the tricks you keep up your sleeve won't follow you into the tunnel. You will have to learn new methods. No time-out is long enough for some of what you will face. Inside this passage way, tucked in secret spots along the walls, there will be blessings, and there will be cursing. Until you round the corner, you won't know which one will overtake you. My suggestion is to accept and embrace, rather than fight and fret.

One day, you will be surprised by the silence. It will actually hurt. The day your sweet little talkative girl sits next to you choosing to keep her thoughts and feelings to herself rather than invite you in. In reply, you will fake a smile, and tell her you love her, and you will drive away clothed in the stoic facade that has become part of your normal wardrobe. The tears will fall, but you've made great strides in letting Jesus wipe them. Some days, under pressure, you will scream "I don't care what you do!!" all the while feeling "I care more than you know". You will stay fiercely protective, just as you are now, but you will be forced to loosen your grip.  Fingers that are pried loose don't bleed for too long, I can assure you that.

This tunnel has soft walls and floors, making the many falls that you will take more comfortable. Falls of desperation to your knees in prayer, falls from being knocked down by ugly words, falls from attacks by your enemy, falls from inexperience, falls from being weak, and falls from being humbled. Eventually you will learn that all of this falling has a purpose. It is to prove to you the Lord's right hand is so strong. He never gets tired of helping you back up to your feet.

I assure you that within this passage way, there will be small glimpses of light. Lest you think that my words are just the rant of a worn out, flushed out mama, I can assure you that your perseverance and your heartaches will eventually produce fruit in your big girls. For others, your girls will show kindness. For their friends they will be generous and loyal. For their teachers and coaches they will practice discipline and respect. Adults in your daughters lives will come to you with gratitude for your years of training, hopeful that your child can light the way for those around her.

Within the sacred sisterhood of mothers, nobody talks honestly about these dark places. It's like there was an oath taken, a vow of silence. We don't prepare moms for what these teen years bring like we did the years when we had young kids. I've never come across a book titled "What to expect when your daughter yells at you." No grandmas and no aunts reveal the nitty-gritty truth for fear of being blamed for the halt of the family line. No friends risk being brutally honest for fear of being judged or compared.  I know that  nobody's journey is exactly alike, but paired side by side, the paths could share some commonalities, some similar solutions. This sure could be helpful toward successfully navigating what can be a really challenging time.

My prayer for you, young friend, is that you will enjoy this time with your little girls while you have it.  Style the hair, match the dresses, and hold them close.   Listen while they will talk,   hug while they will hug you back, laugh when laughter is welcomed. Ecclesiastes 3:1 says "There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under heaven."  Then, when your heart feels like it might break in the dark passage that is ahead, I will shine a light and help you find your way. My prayer for both of us, whatever season we are in, is that we would find our hope and our strength and our courage in God alone.

Psalm 126:5-6

"Those who sow in tears will reap with songs of joy.

He who goes out weeping, carrying seed to sow

will return with songs of joy, carrying sheaves with him."

This is a promise. Believe in it.

With love,

A Sweet, older Mama

May

2015-05-13T01:06:00.002-06:00

It's May!! The busiest month of the year for mamas with kiddos in school. I seriously don't remember even THINKING about this month before the peeps started school. It was just another month. But not now!! Now it is the end. And the beginning. And the beginning of the end.

The lessons wrap up with recitals, the rehearsals conclude with performances, the tryouts payoff in positions, the tests result in final grades. Everyone has something on the calendar this week! My handy I-phone keeps telling me that several of the days I am double-booked. Well, yes! You're right Siri dear. We are double booked...

And it's FUN and
EXHAUSTING and
EXPENSIVE and
ENTERTAINING and
WONDERFUL!!

And the truth is, I wouldn't trade it for the world. My favorite thing is to celebrate my children's success. I love watching them work hard for something and finish it strong. It delights me to see them pleased with themselves. Life isn't all about achievements, but it sure seems like MAY IS!! In response, we make room in the calendar for everything little detail. We cheer boldy and whistle loudly; we make costumes and write reports, we study and memorize and practice and pray.

Most of all, we pray.

We pray for God's peace, His presence and His will.
We seek His glory and humbly honor Him as the Giver of all good gifts.

Then we gas up the mini-van and hang on for the ride.

Fear and Love

2015-05-06T14:06:00.002-06:00

When I was pregnant with my first baby, I lived in an idealistic world. I was certain that if I just had the nursery all ready and the diapers all stacked and the clothes all folded, everything else would fall into place. I would magically know what to do when the baby cried; I would instinctively know all about her needs and her wants, possibly even knowing these things before she even "asked". My first surprise of motherhood was having a C-section. I had planned an ordinary birth with no complications, expecting to return home shortly after the birth. Rather, I had a scheduled birth via C-section and stayed in the hospital for 4 days because this first baby was going to come out her own way... upside down and backwards. This was my first clue that I wasn't in control of this being a mom thing. My kid was.

I have some perfectionistic tendencies about how I should do things and how things should go. I want to do things right. I like to do things without mistake. I enjoy when all of the details of the day line up the way that I need them to. Well, let's just admit it - The way I WANT them to. Truthfully, I don't think that this makes me an evil or bad person. Some will tell me that it does, but I disagree. Wanting things a certain way causes me to be organized, meet deadlines, and live a generally un-chaotic life. So why do I get shamed and blamed for this? Why do I feel like being a high achiever and having expectations is something I should feel guilty for?

I've been a mom for 16 years now.  And I am have been poking my head out of my idealistic bubble now for at least the past 6 years - the years that my kids entered double digits. I'm still learning the same lesson - that I'm not in control. But wait... I have to be in control. People are counting on me to be in control. My teenagers need me to help with their schedules. My younger ones need their laundry done and their lunches packed. Why is there a place where parents can look up grades if parents aren't supposed to care about grades? Why does my child hand me a permission slip from school needing my signature to leave on a school bus, and hours later this same child yells at me to stay out of her life? This is the quandary. The secret to be uncovered. To BE in control, yet not BE controlling. To manage the household and the details of the calendar, to remember all of the dates of concerts and games and lessons and practices AND to never be late and never be tired and grouchy. To have the meals planned and the uniforms washed, to snuggle and read, to listen and guide. To BE in control, and yet not BE controlling. This secret, this balance, can only be discovered for me through daily mediation on scripture. To seek my direction from God's word, teaching me about patience and humility; reminding me of His Will not my own.

I shared with another mom a frustrating moment that I had in parenting this week. I might have mentioned packing one of my child's things and setting them at the front door. She laughed and said "Thanks for saying that. Everyone thinks those things, but nobody says them. Every mom puts on this act that motherhood is easy when really it's the hardest thing any of us have ever done." Together, we encouraged each other and patted one another's back for making it through another day without a homicide or suicide attempt. But why? Why don't we tell it like it is and be truthful? That our feelings are hurt, and our bodies are exhausted, and we're sometimes forgetful, and we're often not present even though we long to be.

I think we don't tell the truth because we're afraid. I'm afraid. If I say the dreaded words "I'm failing" or "I can't do this anymore", I risk opening myself up to criticism, to other parents peeking into my home and shaking their heads at me.  I'm afraid that someone will tell me "You're a bad mom".  I'm afraid of disappointing my children and I'm afraid of ruining my children. I'm afraid that I'm not enough and then I fear that I'm way too much. I've got to stop allowing fear to be the controller and rather I need to pursue the Prince of Peace as the one who controls my heart and mind. He is the one who reminds me that He CHOSE me to be the mom, handpicked me for these kiddos because He knows that with Him, I am enough, I'm a great mom, I'm doing a good job.  Colossians 3:15 says "Let the Peace of Christ rule in your hearts, since as members of one body you were called to peace. And BE THANKFUL."

The end of that verse, after commanding us to allow the Peace of Christ to be in control, gives us another command -  Be thankful. This is the only way for me to BE in control yet not BE controlling. If I let Jesus rule, then He is in control, and when I am focused on being thankful my heart will be surrendered to Jesus, recognizing Him as the one who helps, guides, directs, forgives. In this mind-set, there isn't any room to be afraid. I can trust my kids to Him, I can trust that He has the past and the future in His hands, I can trust that He is going to work all things out for our good. These are His promises. They are written for me so that when I have an "at wits end" day of being a mom, I can find my hope in what my Heavenly Father tells me. He is here, He sees us, He loves us. And...

"There is no room in love for fear. Well-formed love banishes fear. Since fear is crippling, a fearful life - fear of death, fear of judgment - is one not fully formed in love." 1 John 4:18 MSG

Confessions of a Soccer Mom

2015-04-30T15:08:00.005-06:00

Hi. My name is Heather and I'm a soccer mom. (I'm also a dance mom, a school mom, a field trip mom... I could go on and on...)

My son has been playing soccer for about 3 years. In that short time, I have gathered some thoughts about this game of soccer, my player-son, and myself. Even though I have very little experience in this role of soccer mom, I feel as if I'm sort of qualified. Mostly because I have a Team Snap App on my phone, and I have a minivan full of sideline chairs, water bottles, sunscreen and an emergency umbrella.

Here are my confessions:

1. There is no difference between competitive teams and non-competitive teams. It's ALL competitive, every time, every game, every mom, every dad, every player, every coach. If what you're watching isn't competitive then you must have made a wrong turn at the museum.

2. Everybody is keeping score. Even when they say there isn't a score because the boys are too young, and it's only about having fun. Let me tell you people... NOBODY is having FUN if they are losing. And EVERYBODY knows who is losing!!!

3. Your kid's newly washed uniform will have grass stains on it by the first play. And the white shirt and shorts that somebody thought was a good idea for your 9 year old BOY will be stained and look grey for the rest of the season. Nuttin' you can do about it.

4. If I do not pray before every game, I am doomed. A girl who looks an awful lot like me will be impatient and irritated when the game doesn't look like she thinks it should. I knew that inside of me was a fiercely competitive person, but I thought that was only when I was playing Scrabble. Nuh-huh!!! Oh dear!  Because Michael (player-son) has asked me to not yell his name from the sidelines, I restrain myself (most games). But boy, it's hard! It takes supernatural power to make sure that I am affirming and encouraging... even when we are losing or playing poorly. Great character is being built up in myself as I practice self-control, patience, and unconditional love. Who would have guessed that the greatest place I would need the Lord's presence is on a grassy field every Saturday afternoon??!

5. We will be late for game warm-ups. No matter how hard we try, no matter how early we leave... We will be driving like maniacs and spitting words out like "we should left when I told you" at each other.

6.   No matter how much I like you, if you mess with (harm, criticize, yell at) my son, I will come after you. I know that I look sweet and gentle, however... The feelings that rise up inside of me when Michael is wronged are CRRRRRAAAAZY!!!

7. I am proud of my sweet player-son every single time he touches the ball. I'm so proud of this shy boy to have the strength to go out in front of fans, I love watching his determination, it THRILLS me to watch him cheer on and encourage his teammates. One game he went over to his best bud and patted him on the back for a great kick - I had goosebumps all over!!

8. A good coach makes all the difference. Our coach gets my player-son to run, to wear sunscreen, to pick up after himself, to give it his all, to respect and honor everyone on the field, to WEAR WHAT HE WANTS HIM TO, to bring specific things to practice. We are so grateful for the character that is being established in Michael through soccer and our present coach.

9. You will bring a chair to sit in and watch the game and chances are you won't sit in it.  Either because someone (daughters...) take it from you, or you are just way to into the game to sit down.

10. NOTHING has been more fun than having Michael play soccer. I love it. I love every practice that I get to drive him and his buddies to, I love every time I get to wash his uniform, I love packing his snacks and finding him cool cleats and listening to the soccer ball roll around on our hard floors.  I love watching his skills and abilities develop.  I love the friends that we've made through soccer and the high fives that our family makes over great plays. I love it that Michael's grandpa comes to his games and that his sisters enjoy his games. My greatest confession of all is that I FEEL SO BLESSED TO BE A SOCCER MOM!! Go team Henricks!!!

Today

2015-04-17T12:40:00.001-06:00

OHHHH!!! Let me tell you about my day! So much disappointment, betrayal, anger, frustration, sadness... I could go on and on!!! Oh - and so much stress!! And It's only noon!!

Well, actually. Now I'm convicted.

Maybe I shouldn't tell you about any of those things.

Because really, my morning has been all about my reaction to these things. My perspective on these things. And I started down the path to negativity and darkness, that familiar ledge where hope disappears from sight. But then I remembered all that I have been learning about my Jesus and His fierce love for me, His steadfast belief in me, His unchanging character during difficult times.

So instead, I will share with you the only truth that I know and believe with all of my heart.

Hebrews 13:8
"Jesus Christ is the same yesterday and today and forever."

God is STILL the same God that I poured out my heart to this morning in a quiet moment with just Him and my coffee. That quiet moment before any of the other people in my world woke up; before my own stumbles; before the sin of the world got me down.

He is always the same and can be relied upon no matter what I'm facing. Even during the deepest disappointments or hurt, this verse from Hebrews is the TRUTH. Jesus doesn't ever change based on my circumstances. Therefore, I can stop stressing, stop hurting, stop worrying.

And so.

I will just do the next right thing.

Which looks a little bit like laundry.

Belief

2015-03-27T23:34:00.000-06:00

These days, I live my life mostly for my kids. I serve them, I help them, I motivate them, I instruct them. Primarily, I love them! Fundamentally, I believe in them.

I think that until about the age of 12, kids reciprocate that belief. There is a small window of time when my kids have thought that I could move mountains. The truth of my humanity and fallibility as a mom is kept hidden from them for a time, and they mirror my faith in them.  But then, one day, the curtain is pulled back revealing the truth: That I am imperfect, human, sometimes wrong, other times right. With this reveal comes the realization that I might not know exactly what I am doing.

To be fair, none of my kids came with a manual.  There wasn't ever a how-to guide to refer to when I was in certain situations, facing certain challenges. And so, I sometimes wing it.  I look to Scripture and books for guidance.  I ask advice of others and pray to the Lord to show me the right decisions to make.

I hate feeling like I don't know what I'm doing. I strive to educate myself, to prepare myself. I observe my kiddos and learn from them.   Often I get it right, but there are also times when I get it wrong; when the situation I'm in is too confusing and too difficult or the result I want isn't within my reach.

Tonight, my 10 year old gave me a point in the win column on my Mom score card. Not only did she believe in me with this note, she trusted that I had the capability of fulfilling what she wanted.

Her note was sincere, and laced with confidence that I could complete this task. There was no doubt in her mind that I would come through for her. To know that she believes in me, that I could actually do what she wanted me to, gave me all the motivation that I needed to start working on her necklaces. (Even though I got the note at 10:30 pm.)

It was my joy and my delight to make Meredith's necklaces for her.

It truly lifts the spirit when someone believes in you. It bolsters your self-esteem, re-energizes your spirit. It makes you want to take those super hero boots and fill them with your very own feet.

To live or not to live

2015-03-16T22:41:00.004-06:00

I've decided that the opposite of living isn't dying. Rather, the opposite of living is... not living. Simple as that. And truthfully, there are days when I "don't live". Days when I choose to sink deeper into a pit of frustration or disappointment. There are moments that I could choose to see the good and I don't; times when I focus on what's wrong instead of what's right. After a few days of not living, I'm so sick of myself that I wouldn't want to be around myself if I wasn't me! HA! And so, I do an about face and head in the opposite direction of not living, and I head right for living.

Did you know its a choice? Every. Single. Time. I choose it, it never chooses me. Nobody clears the schedule of turmoil and frustration and presents me with a perfect day for living. Nope. I have to get knee deep in the training and instruction of my children, the disappointments in myself and others, the limitations of time, money. and energy. And I have to choose. Some days, choosing to live has to be faked at first. Because, let's be honest. It's not always easy to make this choice. So I ACT like I want to LIVE and do you know what eventually happens? After about 10 minutes, the role I'm playing loses it's fake-ness , and instead turns into a part that feels familiar and good.

It's peculiar to me. all of this pretending. And what do I ever gain from it? The answer is nothing. Nothing but more not living. That's not beneficial for any of us. I just want to have real conversations with real people about real things. I want to cry when life hurts and laugh when it doesn't. I want to try to face hard things even when I feel like faking it. I want to share rather than keep quiet. I want to to ask for help and support when I'm in need.

When you choose to live, you choose to feel pain, you risk bruising and bleeding. But that's what bandages are for. The bandages of good friends, making memories, laughter, sharing great food, joining together in joy-filled family activities. All of these things will help to bind up any wounds that living causes. And I would exchange all of these for one moment spent not living. Wouldn't you?

2015-03-07T09:27:00.001-07:00

Happy Saturday!

The sun is shining through the windows, and my house is QUIET... This is NEVER the case, especially on a Saturday!! All 4 kiddies were asked to spend the night at a friend's house last night. The funny thing is that the 2 youngest kids are together at one house, and the 2 older girls are together at one house. Patrick and I had a wonderful, needed Friday night all to ourselves!! It was a spectacular gift of ABUNDANCE!!!

What are YOU doing with this weekend? It's DAYLIGHT SAVINGS TIME!! I love it when we spring forward with the clocks. The days are lighter longer which is such a delight.

Last week brought so many great times to our family. Maddie got the news that she got a spot in the middle school honor choir for the school district, Meredith sang at her honor choir concert, Marky got offered a regular babysitting job for the summer, Michael had a soccer game which they won 11-1. It was a week of blessing for all of the kiddos!! Most of them spent the week doing some standardized testing at school. This isn't their favorite thing, but at least they didn't have regular homework during the week.

It was a good family week. Good doesn't mean perfect. We had plenty of times where some necks needed to be wrung!! But, here's the thing. Around here we forgive, we love, we keep forgiving, we keep loving. Even when there are rocky days and hard moments, we stay and we fight for each other. Nobody runs away. Nobody gets cut loose. We are family and we're all in this together. And whenever I feel lost and wonder what God's will for our family is I go to this verse...

"Be joyful always; Pray continually; Give thanks in all circumstances for THIS is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18