Posted in Celebration, Childhood, Family, Motherhood, Thanks

Y-E-S

When your big kid texts, “Can I come home for the weekend?” you jump at the chance and say a resounding “Y-E-S.”

When your big kid pulls in the driveway, you run outside, wave frantically and give her a hug like you haven’t seen her in five years (even though it’s only been five weeks).
 
When your big kid dumps her stuff all over your kitchen counter, you hold your tongue and remember that it’s only for a couple of days, knowing secretly you miss the “mess.”
 
When your big kid asks, “Mom, do you have ___________,” you search your house until ___________ is found underneath the sink in the back corner.
 
When your big kid shows you the tomatoes and peppers she brought you from her garden, you say, “WOW! That’s amazing!” and you figure out how to use them over the next week so you can post a picture on social media and tag her.
 
When your big kid wants to take an online who-you-should-vote-for test, you spend five hours talking through all the issues, learning and listening to her perspective while speaking your own truth, both feeling more connected afterwards.
 
When your big kid rakes the leaves into a pile on your driveway, plops herself right in the middle, throwing them into the air because fall is her favorite season ever, you take a video and post it everywhere.
 
When your big kid holds her dad’s hand during your lazy, long leaf-peeping walk, you watch from behind and your heart almost bursts because you love her more today than you ever have.
 
When your big kid snuggles with you on the couch, watching football and eating popcorn, the official family snack, memories flood your mind of a little girl spinning in a circle humming while she eats the fluffy white goodness. A lump forms in your throat.
 
When your big kid gets ready to leave, you help pack her car, make sure she has air in that tire with the flashing light on, make a bag of goodies for her two-hour ride, and give her another hug like you won’t see her again for another five years (even though it will only be five weeks).
 
When your big kid pulls out of your driveway, you shout “I love you,” hands flailing in the air, as tears well in your eyes and you allow them to flow. Your heart is sad and thankful all at the same time.
 
When your big kid texts you, “I’m home,” you breathe a long, mom sigh of relief, anticipating the next time you will be given another chance to jump and say a resounding “Y-E-S!”
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Posted in Faith, Thanks

Pattering

It’s (almost) my favorite sound in the world.
It’s happening as I write this.
I could listen to it all day and all night.

The sound of RAIN pattering on the roof.

[I get all goosebumpy (is that even a word?) when I hear it.]

RAIN speaks to quenching.

A parched soil.
A parched soul.

[Calm washes through my body, my spirit responding in kind.]

RAIN speaks to cleansing.

A mucky house.
A mucky heart.

[I peek outside, and can almost see the trees drinking it in.]

RAIN speaks to refreshment.

A weary world.
A weary body.

[The idea of a nap in the middle of the day sounds just about right.]

RAIN speaks to redemption.

A hopeless day.
A hopeless mind.

[A smile creeps to my lips, a glimmer of hope rising within.]

Thank you, RAIN.

I need you today.

#nobadweather #pluviophile

Posted in Family, Grief, Motherhood, Thanks

I am his very first call…

“Mom, I got bad news totally out of the blue.”

The text flashes across my screen.

“You free?”

My heart starts to pound.  My hands get sweaty.

“Yes.” I respond, gathering my nervous self as together as possible.

It feels like hours until the phone rings.

“Is he hurt?”
“Did his girlfriend break up with him?”
“What about his job?”
“Has he been arrested?”

All those crazy, but somehow normal mom thoughts fly at me from all directions, the “I-WANT-HIM-TO-BE-OKAY” mom thoughts.

My phone finally buzzes.

“Hey honey, what’s up?” I ask, hoping I sound calm and not like I’m ready to hear the worst news ever.

He talks to me about what’s happening.

I try to just listen.

He tells me how he really feels.

Now, I lean in quieter and harder, because this is a newer thing he’s comfortable sharing.

As we get to the end of the call, he thanks me for my support and says, “I love you, Mom.” 

“I love you, too, honey.” I answer.  “It’s all going to be okay.  You will be okay.”

I press the red hang-up button.

Tears well and come tumbling out.

But not for the reasons I thought they would.

They are not there because of the sad and hard that my son is experiencing, even though I feel all those same feels.

They spill out because of the gratitude that seeps into my soul, knowing that I am his very first call.

His very first call.

The way I want it to be.

His very first call.

My mama heart rests peacefully.

Posted in Celebration, Faith, Family, Motherhood, Thanks

Bigger and Better

I had one girl and two boys. I was about to have my fourth baby. I had chosen NOT to find out the sex of the baby, but desperately wanted a sister for my oldest.
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You see, I had been the only girl and had always wanted a sister myself. No matter how much begging I did with my mom, no more babies were to be had.
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When the doctor said, “It’s a girl,” my heart leapt for joy and I thought my “big” dream had come true and my most earnest prayer answered.
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Little did I know that something much “bigger” was on the horizon. The birth of this baby girl became the starting point of a now 21-year journey of healing for me.
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Her sparkly eyes drew me close, as if she could see right into my soul.
I had never before been able to open my heart without pause.
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She was unconditional love wrapped in a tiny bundle of flesh and bones.
I had never before been able to receive love without restriction.
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As she grew, her child-like wisdom shocked me in the best ways.
I had never before been able to move out of formulaic thinking.
.
KNOWN.
LOVED.
WISDOM.
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Three crucial pieces to a puzzle that had long been missing in my life.
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As I write, this young lady stands on the precipice of her first “legal” glass of wine, a symbol of celebration for “big” things!!
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Yes. My “big” dream did come true that September morning, the birth of a sister for my oldest, and I will lift a glass as I remember.
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But God had a BIGGER and BETTER dream for me, an “immeasurably more” kind, one that I would have never even dared to hope for, much less even know to ask: the mending of my own precious soul.
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Posted in Childhood, Family, Motherhood, Thanks

‘Twas the end of the summer, it just wasn’t right…

Twas the end of the summer,
It just wasn’t right.
Every beach chair was packed up,
And so were the kites.

Last grains of sand,
Shaken out of the flip flops.
With dim hopes that fall shoes
could be found in mall shops.

The children were crying
all mad in their beds,
With visions of homework
crammed in their heads.

And papa in his lounge pants,
And I in my shorts,
Were ready for anything,
Definitely done making “forts.”

When checking our phones,
To see what’s on our plate,
We couldn’t believe it,
It was already past 8.

Away to the kitchen,
I made a mad dash.
To see if we had snacks.
“Oh no, forgot the trash!”

The moon was all shiny,
Its man poking fun.
“Summer is over,
caput, gone, YUP, done!”

When thoughts to my wandering
mind did come clear,
The fall is upon us,
There are things we can cheer.

Like football, Like pumpkins,
Like lattes, Like scarecrows,
Like apples, Like sweatshirts,
Like cider, Like warm clothes.

To the ice cream truck songs!
To the fireworks all night!
Now dash away! Dash away!
Dash away! That’s right!

Make room for the soup
The outdoor fireside chats.
Make room for the leaves,
Thank God, no more gnats!

As I came to my senses,
And was settling down,
A smile snuck to my lips,
No longer a frown.

I’ll be dressed in all manner of
sweatpants and hoodies,
I’ll feel so so cozy,
All ready for some goodies.

That Halloween will bring,
Thanksgiving too.
It won’t be just eats,
It’ll be lots of hugs, true.

I spoke no more words,
But went straight to my bed,
Said a prayer filled with thanks,
For what lies ahead.

And laying my head,
And closing my eyes,
My heart felt more settled,
“My goodness! Time flies!”

I rose one last time,
To check on my crew,
“Happy Fall, my sweet ones,
I’m thankful for you!”

Posted in Family, Marriage, Thanks

Nitpicking

“Why did you pack the dishwasher like that?”
“You left the light on.”
“Go to the doctor. You’ve got to stop the snoring.”

Nitpick.
Nitpick.
Nitpick.

I am definitely the queen of nitpicking. At my husband.

It’s so easy for me to find all the ways he just doesn’t do “it” right.
Or the way I think is right. Whatever “it” is.

It’s so stinkin’ easy.

It’s also so stinkin’ harmful.

It perpetuates shame.
It silently mocks, “I’m better than you.”
It is a destroyer of connection.

I don’t want to be the queen of this.

I just DO NOT.

I want to bring grace.
I want to build up.
I want to foster deep intimate connection.

I want to be an agent of healing.

So today, I will call out my husband.
I will yell for the world, and mostly myself, to hear.

“He folded all the laundry.”
“He walked me through a very hard conversation, bringing me much wisdom and guidance.”

And guess what else?!?

Guess what else?!?

“He cut these flowers from our garden and placed them right next to my bed!!”

It is so stinkin’ easy to find all the things that are wrong.

But it’s so much better to see all the things that are right.

#grateful

 

Posted in Celebration, Childhood, Thanks

Painted KINDNESS

It happened again.

Children brought hope to my discouraged heart.

Hope in the form of painted rocks.

Painted rocks outside our local elementary school.

Messages of goodness, encouragement and kindness splattered all over simple gray stones.

In “pre-crazy times,” I would have thought, “how cute” and moved on quickly.

Not now. I stopped, savoring each one, breathing a prayer of thanks.

Thanks for each child. Thanks for the purest and simplest of words, designed to breathe life into my disheartened soul.

I needed these rocks. I needed these deliberate acts of kindness from children who decided to take a moment to paint rocks.

I want to be like them when I grow up.

Posted in Faith, Friendship, Health, Thanks

If You Only Knew…

If you only knew what I really believe about faith…

Would you still worship with me?

If you only knew how I voted in the last election…

Would you still respect me?

If you only knew what’s happening in my home right now…

Would you still confide in me?

If you only knew what’s happened in my past…

Would you still value me?

If you only knew the number on my scale…

Would you still have grace for me?

If you only knew my opinions about the issues facing our world…

Would you still like me?

If you only knew how I spent my money…

Would you still be my friend?

If you only knew what goes on in my mind…

Would you still trust me?


I hide.
I keep secrets.
I stay in my cage.
I show you a false version of me.
I protect my self at all costs.

ALL BECAUSE I WANT TO

belong to you.
be accepted by you.
be LOVED by you.

Jesus tenderly brings me out of hiding.
I have no secrets with Him.
He sets me free.
He allows the truest version of me.
He protects my REAL self at all costs.

I AM SO GRATEFUL THAT I

belong to Him
am accepted by Him
am LOVED by Him


I want to be Jesus with skin on FOR you.
I want the same FROM you.

Together, maybe we can show this Jesus to everyone else.

Oh may it be so.

 

 

Posted in Faith, Family, Motherhood, Thanks

It’s 1 am (Hope for Motherhood)

It’s 1 am.
My five-month old cries out from her crib.
Not another night of this!
It’s been three weeks since I’ve had more than 3 hours of sleep in a row.
God, HELP me!  HELP them!
I am barely functioning anymore, bags under my eyes the size of grapes!
I don’t think I can take it anymore!
I am SO done!

It’s 1 am.
My kindergartener screams from his room.
Why does this keep happening?
The nightmares are getting worse!
God, HELP me!  HELP them!
Am I doing something wrong?
I don’t have any idea what to do!
I am SO done!

It’s 1 am.
My 10-year old shouts “MOMMY!” at the top of his lungs.
His jammy bottoms are soaked.
He’s wet the bed again.
God, HELP me!  HELP them!
I’ve already called the doctor five times.
Nothing is working!
I am SO done!

It’s 1 am.
I haven’t heard from my new driver’s license holder since 7 pm.
Her curfew is 11 pm.  She knows better than this!
Is she hurt?  Is she drunk?  Is she alive?
God, HELP me!  HELP them!
I never knew this mom gig would be SO hard!
Will I ever get sleep?  Will I ever stop worrying?
I am SO done!

It’s 1 am.
My cell phone vibrates on the nightstand.  I ignore it.
It’s vibrates again and again.  I finally pick it up.  Hello?
The campus security guard is on the other end.  My daughter was found passed out on the sidewalk, having had WAY too much to drink.
God, HELP me!  HELP them!
This is un(freaking)believable!  She will be the death of me!
What in the world am I supposed to do now?
I am SO done!

It’s 1 am.
My eyes refuse to close in sleep.
My son has been furloughed from his job.
This pandemic is wrecking everything.  He was doing so well and now this!!!
God, HELP me!  HELP them!
What is going to happen?
Even if he gets his sales back, will any business have the money to buy advertising? UGH!
I am SO done!

It’s 1 am.
I lay awake on my bed.
I can’t believe the text I got from my son this afternoon.
I burst into tears as I read it, gratitude bubbling up and leaking out!
GOD, you’ve HELPED me!  You’ve HELPED them!
It keeps happening!  Every single time!
You love him even more than I do!  You are our great and only HOPE!
I am SO UNDONE!

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Posted in Celebration, Childhood, Family, Grandparenthood, Motherhood, Thanks

I Can’t Believe This is My Life

Baby showers.  Hospital rooms.  24-hour deliveries.  No sleep.  Leaky nursing bra.  Baby giggles.  Blurry mind.  Toothless smiles.  Crawling under the crib in the middle of the night for the pacifier.  Yellow poop up the back.

I can’t believe this is my life.

Tantrums in grocery stores.  Toddler tunes enough to drive a normal person crazy.  First full sentences.  Bonked heads.  Refusals to nap.  Go Dog Go.  Happy bubble baths.  Weird obsessions.  Endless hugs.

I can’t believe this is my life.

Play dates.  Obnoxious Nick Jr.  Skinned knees.  Brown play-dough.  Playgrounds.  Accidents in pants.  Too many doctor visits.  Smooshy kisses (right on the lips)!  Melt-downs.  “Parent’s, please stay with your child” birthday parties.

I can’t believe this is my life.

Homework.  The car.  The car.  The car.  Class parties.  Sidelines and fields.  Strange sounds coming from musical instruments.   Mom school projects.  Fibs.  Surprise “I love you” notes.  Whining.  Lost jackets, mittens, and hats.

I can’t believe this is my life.

Cliques.  Hormones.  School performance pressure.  Spontaneous hugs.  Rolling eyes.  Good talks in the car, facing forward.  Did I say hormones?  Budding independence.  Dinners on the run.  Concerts.  Teams.  Plays.  Try-outs.  Rejections.  First paid gigs.

I can’t believe this is my life.

First kisses (and second and third).  Team dinners.  Slammed doors.  Missed curfews.  Drivers’ licenses.  YIKES.  Long unprompted talks.  Proms.  Less and less control.  Senior nights.  Heartbreaks.  Texts not returned for what seems like hours and hours and hours.  Real Christmas presents.  Car accidents.  College apps.  Caps flying in the air.

I can’t believe this is my life.

Dorm shopping.  Saying goodbye.  Endless mom tears.  Weeks between texts.  WORRY.  Weird campus visits.  Saying hello.  Curfews???  No.  Home-cooked food.  Yes.  Summer job???  Possibly.  Up till all weird hours.  Yes.  Dirty dishes.  Yes.  Family.  Saying goodbye again.  Less mom tears.  More mom relief.  REPEAT for four years.

I can’t believe this is my life.

First jobs.  W2s.  Uhauls.  “Adulting.”  Used car lots.  Uhauls.  Sincere and heart-felt “thank you moms.”  Heated conversations about world events.  Tearful hugs goodbye.  Zoom family game nights.  Did I mention Uhauls?  Mother’s Day flowers from afar.  Wedding planning.  Real friendship.  Grandpuppies.  Precious and fleeting moments “ALL TOGETHER.”  Yup.  Uhauls.

I can’t believe this is my life.

Baby showers.  Hospital rooms.  24-hour deliveries.  Baby giggles.  Toothless smiles.  After-bath smells.  Snuggles and kisses.  Toddler tantrums.  Excitement over Mommy’s old Fisher Price school bus.  Go Dog Go.  Sad “see you soons.”  Facetime laughter.  “I love you the most, Mema.”  Happiest hugs hello.

YUP.  I can’t believe this is my life.

BUT I COULDN’T BE MORE GRATEFUL THAT IT IS.

AND THERE IS STILL MORE TO COME.