The Reflection of God To Our Children

I have a hope, it's that God sat over the dark nothing and wrote you and me, specifically, into the story, and put us in the sunset and the rainstorm as though to say, enjoy your place in my story. The beauty of it means you matter, and you can create within it even as I have created you. - Don Miller

When I think deeply over this truth I am reminded what I have purposed in my heart to be as a mother to my children. I reflect on my intentions of wholeheartedly wanting to be a woman who slows the world down for their childhood, creating memories and enchantment in the most ordinary days. A mom that they wake up and see reading the word of God and one that is intentional about connection and observation in tiny matters of their hearts.

But social media platforms like Facebook, Instagram and Pinterest can be mass weapons of distraction. They can be valuable sources of encouragement and kinship or they can be a tool used by the enemy to distract my life from my children. In each inattentive moment I am scrolling and double tapping wishing they would stop "bothering" me for "just 5 more minutes" defines God a little bit more clearly for my child. The times I make the effort to create a fun day for them and take them to exciting places are important, but they pale in comparison to the image of God that I am reflecting to them when they need me most. An image that I define little by little, day by day.

My prayer today is that we don't let ourselves be distracted, but be still, listen to our children and reflect to them what we know our Father is for us when we approach His throne. He is never too distracted for us or bothered by us. Our part in their story matters just as much as our part in our own. So pray for me today momma, as I pray for you and the portrait you paint to your children of God's everlasting love and vigilance of our hearts. #makeitcount

Thinking of Home Schooling?

Photo by Kristin Rogers

One of the biggest myths about families that choose home education is that they believe that the public and private school systems are evil, that everyone that teaches is intentionally trying to lead their children away from Christ and so therefore, they know the "RIGHT" way to educate their Children and everyone else is "WRONG". And that could not be further from the truth. I went to a public school, my husband went to a private school, and we both turned out to be adults seeking the Lord and trying to live according to His Word. I also have several friends that are teachers, my mom worked for a school district for several years, my mother in law has been a teacher for several years, and I know for a fact ... that none of those people are trying to corrupt your Children. (possibly a college professor or two, but none of the people I just mentioned ;-))  But the home education movement IS starting to become more popular. Why is that?

You see, we are in a spiritual war right now. Not with teachers and principles. But with the ruler of this world. And we all know who the ruler of this world is and he is prowling around like a lion seeking for someone to devour. My husband and I went to a Home school conference in the Woodlands last week and learned many surprising and stomach turning things about the Common Core Curriculum. As the years pass, unfortunately what the government is hoping to do in the public school system is teach our children that everything that God says in His word is a lie. And Satan loves that. So as soon as we even barely touch on the idea in our minds that we might want to educate our children at home, you know what he does? He starts to try and play with your mind.

I remember transitioning from just the idea of homeschooling to really leaning toward it with full force. And Satan came up on my left side and whispered in my ear...[wait. time out. No, I didn't literally hear him whispering in my ear. I do not have evil voices that talk to me. Nobody call CPS.] ... so he whispers... "You? Educate your children? ha! That's laughable. You? The woman that can't remember a single lick of fractions? You? Who misspells biscuits EVERY.SINGLE.TIME on the grocery list? (only spelled it right that time because of spell check, thanks blogger!) ... And seeds of doubt began to linger in my heart. But I thought, No! You know what? Sure I'm not the most intelligent. But my kids will be ok. I can learn things over along with them. Even fractions (God, please help me with that one) and my kids will be just fine. GET BEHIND ME SATAN.

But then he came up and whispered in my right ear. "Psst. Hey you. Yeah, remember your two kids and their never stop moving, never stop making noise personality? Yeah. You're doomed. Gonna go pretty insane in that house every day for the next 16 or so years. Good luck with that." And seeds of doubt began to plant themselves in my mind. But again, I thought - NO. Sure, it's hard. Some days have already pushed me to the brink of insanity and I'm only 5 years in (let's be honest), but this isn't going to break me. I've dreamed of being a mother for as long as I can remember. And this is a privilege. It's hard. And yes, some days I find myself wanting to pull the covers over my head in the morning and yelling back - "Mommy Who?!?"  But I am up for the challenge. I thank God every day that he made me THEIR mother. When a child is born, you only get 6,570 days with them until they turn 18 years old and leave your home. (well, ok, some mom's luck out and get a kid until they are like mid thirties. In the basement. Playing pokemon .... but I digress.) But I dream of days with my children when we can just go slow, soak in the nature that surrounds us, talk about spiritual things in every conversation and live life to the fullest. So that's not going to work on me, Satan.
SO GET BEHIND ME.

And then I heard him again. And I can't say that he didn't have a good point this time. I heard " Oh hey frazzled mommy. Yeah you. You know, you're going to be the mom that LET'S HERSELF GO. Whoa ho ho. We're talking, funky toenails, hair hasn't been trimmed in ages. Trying to smear on makeup from the 1990's because you don't have the time or the money (can I get an amen) to go buy any new makeup, and you're going to feel TERRIBLE about yourself. You won't have any time to take care of yourself  because every hour of every day you will be with your children. Yeah. Good luck covering those wrinkles and gray hairs. Which by the way, I'm already seeing right now, ouch. But those other moms ... the ones with the kids in public schools. Oh, you are so going to envy them. They are going to have fresh pedicures every week, just you watch. Oh and salon appointments and they will look at you in pity while they have bright eyes and fresh faces. Oh yeah frazzled mom, you're going down." And really, I didn't have an awesome come back for that one. I mean, he was right. It's probably true. I probably will look tired and frazzled most of the time. I pretty much already do, who am I kidding? But the point is, I wasn't going to let him shake me. And when I leave this disaster of a planet we call earth, I'm not taking this tired old wrinkled shell with me, praise God. It stays here. In the ground. From dust to dust. So I resolved not to let his lies discourage me. Because that's what he does. He wants to discourage you, and dishearten you and defeat you and distract you. And he does that by lying to you, but the best way he does that,
is by keeping you from the Word of God.

 And when I open the Word of God and I look for a rebuttal against those lies Satan told me, well, sadly I don't find anything about fractions and funky toenails, so I'm kinda at a loss there. But you know what it does say? Its says "Like arrows in the hands of a warrior, are children born in one's youth." - Psalm 127:4. Why do I need arrows? And who am I fighting? And more importantly, WHO AM I FIGHTING FOR? And it also says "So fix these words of mine in your hearts and minds. Tie them as symbols on your hands and bind them on your foreheads. Teach them to your children, talking about them when you sit at home and when you walk along the road, when you lie down and when you get up. Write them on the door frames of your houses and on your gates..." Deuteronomy 11:18-20. And Proverbs 22:6 that says " Train up a child in the way he should go and when he is old he will not depart from it." "We know that we all have knowledge, but knowledge puffs up and love builds up."- 1 Corinthians 1:8.

Do I believe that Christian parents who send their children off to public school won't teach them any of the Word at home? Well of course not! But I do know that with the problem that my kids have of listening and the problem I have of being distracted, our family needs just a little more grace and a little more time in the day to do that than every one else. Let's just call it for what it is. Ha. And do I think that there is anything wrong at all with wanting your children to be super intelligent right along side having wisdom? Not at all. But it is like something I heard a speaker say at our conference - "My sole purpose in teaching my child to read is not so that they can get into Harvard but so that they can read and discern the Word of the Living God."

Home educating is not the right answer for every family, but it is the answer for our family. And I urge you, if you feel like it might be the answer for your family, DO NOT let Satan try to lie to you and discourage you out of that decision. He is going to try to tell you all sorts of lies. "It's going to be overwhelming." Well, yep. but that's motherhood. Motherhood is overwhelming, but we lace up our boot straps and we give it our best shot anyway, am I right? Seriously, what can be more overwhelming than bringing your first child home from the hospital and all of your family and friends leaving and you stand there all alone with your husband and begin to panic asking- "what do we do with this thing? Where do we put it? Is it a bomb?" But you survived. It's what we do.
By the grace of God.

And Satan will lie and say to you "People will compare their children to yours and not only will your KIDS look stupid, but YOU will also look stupid or, even worse, people will think that you aren't teaching them at all and that you sit on the couch all day eating bon bons and watching Soap Operas." And to that, I've learned to say - WHO CARES WHAT THEY THINK? There is a war for my children's hearts. And I'm not going to sacrifice a relationship with my children because I have to keep up with the Jones' or prove to Kelly Sue that my child is just as smart as her child but in different ways and different areas. Or prove to Mary Beth that I actually AM teaching my children even though they STILL can't grasp fractions (I'm sorry kids, it's just not in your blood) and despite the fact that I might have a little bit of bon bon chocolate left on my face. #sorrynotsorry The people who have to always compare and compete? That is THEIR problem and not yours. Say a prayer over that and release it from your heart. Ask God to make peace within you that even when you feel like a failure because your child doesn't meet the "standards" - that you know He has made everything fitting in HIS time, Ecclesiastes 3:11, and not when you want it to show it's fruits. Remember who you are through this. God wants you to rely on Him to see this thing through.  I hope you can decide what will be best for your family as far as your children's education and I hope you make the decision without any outside negative influences whispering in your ear (again, not literally, I don't hear voices.) Please contact me if you need someone to pray for you or with you about the decision to home educate or to help remind you of the Warrior you are when you start to feel doubt or discouragement creep in. Good luck mommas! Whether home educator or sending your children away every day - we need to encourage and support one another because this job is hard and we are all trying to do what is best for our family. And also because, we are a warrior in the fight for our kids to have eternal life. Train hard.

Life's Weaving

My grandparents. They were adorable. Inseparable.

I always loved to hear the story about how they met. It was a timeless classic that proved that irresponsible, irrational attraction can grow into love. And more than anything, it was proof to me, that true love lasts more than a lifetime, in fact, it lasts far beyond it.

They both came from humble beginnings. They never knew wealth. And they never really cared. They knew what made a person truly rich, and that, they both had. 

He was in the army. To this day, one of the most stout men I have ever seen. He is strong in every sense of the word. He had that German look to him. Tall, strong, confident. Until the army he had never been outside of Beckville, Texas. All he knew growing up was working in the cotton field for a few cents a day. The war was something new to him, something real and life changing. It made him realize what was important in life. It made him want to love.

She was living in Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. With big bright eyes and long brown hair, she was watching her parents fall in love with America. Italy was all they had known. Call it fate, call it destiny, call it what you want, but on that one perfect day she decided to go to the park in Pittsburgh with a couple of her girlfriends. Her life would never be the same.

The soldiers pulled up on a bus, coming through that town, and they all gazed out of the windows at the people enjoying themselves in the park.

That is when he saw her.

She had her bluejeans rolled up and she was barefoot. She laughed, she ran, she had the most beautiful spirit he had ever seen. So he decided to get off the bus.

Without nerves, without fears, he walked right up to her and asked her where her shoes were. After minutes of talking and laughing with each other, they knew. He asked her - "are you coming to Texas with me, or not?" They joke that he never really asked her to marry him, but when she finally grabbed her shoes and headed home to pack... he counts that as a yes.

Both of my grandparents passed away in the last couple of years but today would have been their 68th wedding anniversary. And I miss them both more than I could ever explain on some silly blog. 

Saying Goodbye To A One Year Old.

I hadn't really thought of it that way.

Sure, I've thought about how time is flying. How it doesn't seem like 2 years since we held that perfect little person for the first time. I've often thought about how I will turn around and he will be going off to school. And I'll turn again and he will be driving a car. Another spin and he's in college. Married. Has a family of his own. And dizzy and confused I will sit and wonder - where did the years go? But it wasn't until I watched my husband walk out of our son's room on Tuesday night with tears in his eyes, that I realized what we were doing. 

"What's the matter?" I asked him. "Why are you about to cry?"

"Because I just said - 'goodnight my little one year old. I love you. I'm gonna miss you.'"

He was right. I was so caught up in the celebration of another year of life and fun and love with my son that I hadn't even thought about the fact that we were saying goodnight to our one year old for the very last time. That changed things. I held onto my husband, sobbing from a place deep within my chest. I didn't want to say goodnight to him. I didn't want to let him go. That year, and all of it's illuminating days are gone. We blinked and our child went from a crawler who looked at us with bright loving eyes to a runner that can now tell us that he loves us.

It has been such an amazing year. Our son has blossomed into the little toddler I always knew he would be. There is so much I love about him. I love that he loves to make us laugh. I love that every night before bed he gives me kisses between the crib bars, one kiss for each space, all the way down the crib. I love that his favorite song is a Coldplay song. That he passes out hugs like nobody I have ever seen, arms wide open. Even the cashiers can't help but come around their registers and give him that hug he was wanting. I love that his favorite characters are already the underdogs - like The Little Engine That Could. And I love that he is so full of life and light and energy.

But he is also full of hope and promise of things to come. And with the sadness of saying
goodbye to our one year old, also comes a silver lining.

Saying HELLO to our two year old.

“Be present in all things and thankful for all things.”
― Maya Angelou

Who we are underneath + A new name ....

{photo from www.twopeasinabucket.com}

Some mornings, before my son awakes and we begin our day, I like to grab a warm cup of coffee and sit out on our back porch in the quiet stillness. There's something about the calmness of the morning that I can't explain. The crisp, cool air that fills my lungs. It triggers something in my memory. It stirs up inspiration in my most abandoned spaces in my soul. There's something about the warmth of the sunrise on my face. Our wind chimes being delicately blown by the gentle breeze. And the big beautiful tree in our backyard with its tiny white buds, whispering the promise of hopeful things to come. The buds are only pretty for a short time, and yesterday I realized that this year, I missed their prettiest days.

My husband and son are my whole world. And it takes a lot to keep my little world spinning. I want to protect them and serve them and fill them with joy. That time, my time in the morning to reflect and breathe and talk to God, is quickly gathered up by the sound of my son, waking up ready to laugh, ready to eat, ready to play. That moment though, as short as it may seem, is my moment to search the inner most depths of my heart. It is often the time of day when I feel closest to God. Before the day is filled up with being a wife and a mother, I am reminded who I am outside of those roles. A creation woven together with the most intricate details. One that still longs for creativity, passion, and adventure. One that is loved deeply. Completely. Unceasingly. I forget these things in the busyness of the day. I forget that in our most ordinary moments, we still have beautiful purpose. 

I've been wanting to get back to "personal" blogging for some time now. I just wasn't sure how. Some of you who follow my writing consistently might have noticed that I couldn't quite make up my mind for what I wanted the focus of this space to be. With the sudden reality of 30 also came a desperate need for authenticity. I've tried to do the funny mom blogger thing, the fashion and lifestyle writer, but those things just aren't me. At the end of the day, I'm a mess. An exhausted, imperfect, exceptionally ordinary mess. I wanted a new title.  Something that portrayed this desire to be used exactly where I am. If nothing else, I wanted a title that portrayed what I feel every day, at the end of the day, when I lay my head down on my pillow. I often ask myself, what have I accomplished today? Was it glorifying to my God? Was it beneficial to anyone else? Will it be remembered? And if not, will I be ok with that?  

I would find myself thinking of words throughout the day. Potential titles, all exploring the possibility of a life lived fully unscripted but not fully lived. A life with regrets, left wanting to do more, see more, get back time that we watch pass us by. I also thought of phrases that highlighted the importance of our day and what we do within it. The value we give it. Days filled with more than wrinkled hands from dish water and wadded up grocery lists. More than making messes and cleaning them up. More than macaroni and cheese and Thomas the Train. In fear of losing myself as a mother and housewife, I've started my own business, made plans to apply for my Master's Degree, started trying to write a novel, all in hopes of holding on as tightly as I can to that innovative spirit within that I so desperately do not want to lose. For what? To only clutter my moments up even more than they were. 

It wasn't until a couple of days ago that I stumbled upon a realization that not only gave me a title, it allowed a peace to settle over me for the first time in a long time. I had just put my son down for his nap, and I always wait just a few minutes after I don't hear him rolling around anymore to come back in his room and make sure his little legs are covered. So I covered him up, paused to watch him sleep for just a moment. I had so much I needed to do around the house. Design orders I needed to work on. Deciding what to make for dinner. But for some reason, on this day, I just wanted to watch my son sleep.  My husband and I had just heard of a story of a little boy named Eli who was the same age as our son, even looked a lot like him, and in the blink of an eye he choked on a piece of food. A few days later, he was gone. A tiny, precious little life that was running and playing one day ... is gone the next. It's just that fast. Though the family was extremely strong and even donated his kidneys to another child in need saying that "Eli served his purpose on this earth to save another child", I still know that in the days to come, once that family returns home to as much "normalcy" as possible and an extremely quiet house, the pain would be almost too much to bear. I'm not sure if it was just the overwhelming emotion that hit me at that moment watching my son sleep or the exhaustion ... or both, but my legs collapsed underneath me and I just sat there. Indian style on the floor. Right in front of his bed. 

I just ... sat there.  

How can I possibly think of a name for my blog that perfectly represents my life right now, when from moment to moment it is so different? It's so chaotic and hectic and overwhelming. It's making messes all day long. It's "no don't throw that in the sink", "no don't push that under the couch", "no, don't spit that out." But it's also beautiful in every way. Every moment is an opportunity to teach and shape my child. And in the middle of all of the chaos, there IS always beautiful purpose. Even in little Eli's life, as short as it was, they were able to find purpose and peace. Not to mention there are those moments, like this one right now - when I'm watching my son sleep. And he looks so peaceful, ... and perfect. And I know when he wakes up he will want me to just hold him for a while. Before anything. Before he plays, before he gets a drink, he just wants me to HOLD HIM. And he'll put his head on my shoulder, wrap his little legs around my waist and breath a sigh of relief. Momma's got me. What a wonderful privilege I have. So how can I possibly make sense of the fact that life is complete bliss all while it sometimes throws us curve balls that shake us to the core and have us dropping to our knees??? And then it hit me.  Like I mentioned earlier, we are creations woven together with the most intricate details by the most amazing God. And these moments in our lives that stop us in our tracks ... they don't MAKE us who we are, they REVEAL who we are, underneath. They unravel us at the seams, but in a good way. They strip away all of the trivial things in life, the material things, and remind us what is most important.  

 Yes, it's hard. Yes, it's work. YES, YOU LOSE YOURSELF.

But the best part is, it's worth it. And every morning when your coffee on the porch is interrupted by the sweet sound of a perfect little person waking up, you get to find yourself...

.... again and again. 

Deeper, still.

We all have to face our own reflection.

I was sitting across the table from one of my girlfriends the other day, eating lunch and chatting about life. We got into our typical discussion about the kids, funny things they are doing, and how they are growing. Of course, that led to the subject of time and how old we are both getting. As she joked about my upcoming thirtieth birthday, she let me in on a little secret.

"You've had wrinkles for a while, though."

Yep.

That's what she said.

I just stared at her for a second. Waiting for her to bust into laughter, tell me she got me good, and what a horrified look I had on my face. But she didn't. She sat there, straight faced. And so I responded like any rational, sensible, unpretentious woman would:

"What? what do you mean wrinkles? When did I , how long have you .... what wrinkles? Where? I've never seen any wrinkles. What wrinkles?!?"

"The ones on the side of your mouth. Yeah, it's no big deal. I just thought since you are going to be in your thirties and all, maybe you should know."

I thanked her for the heads up and we laughed, and joked more about growing old, wearing girdles and dentures, and finished up our lunches.

I mean, I knew I would have wrinkles. One day. It's inevitable. We are all growing older and you can't stop it from happening. Well, some people try. But not me. I've always told myself that I would try to take aging as it comes. I would embrace it. I would consider it a display of wonderful years I have been blessed with and hold it as a souvenir of sorts of the memories I have collected over time. I guess I just didn't prepare myself for the early onset of that reality.

I have wrinkles. There, I said it.

My friend headed out that afternoon and I found myself in the middle of the rug on our living room floor again with Connor to see what we were going to play with next. I heard the tires on the gravel outside as she pulled away and a honk in the distance as she got further down the road.

32 seconds.

That's about how long I waited before I got up, walked into our bathroom, turned on the light and pulled my face to the mirror. Let me see these wrinkles.

She was right. There they were.

Deep, distinct lines on the sides of my mouth.

But I wouldn't consider those wrinkles. In fact, as I stretched my mouth out into a smile, I watched them get bigger and bigger, and deeper and deeper. They were smile lines.

I breathed a heavy sigh of relief and turned off the bathroom light, walked back into the living room with my son who looked up at me with the biggest grin on his face, and without a second thought, I smiled back at him.

You see, those are wrinkles I'm ok with. Those are lines on my face that have formed over the years because I have experienced indescribable happiness. And I fully believe that they will only continue to get deeper.

And it hit me.

Every wrinkle is ok with me. Every one. They all represent an emotion brought on by an experience that I have had the privilege of embracing. Even the immense sadness and frustration. The loneliness in an unsolved heart. The fear and anticipation of a future that turned out to be a beautiful present. Amusement and courage. Appreciation and hope. And of course, happiness. Some people wander through this life without letting themselves feel a thing. They are "rational people". They will tell you they don't let themselves get swallowed up with emotions. In fact, they can't remember the last time that they felt overwhelmed with heartbreak, or wrapped up with joy. They can talk themselves out of every wrinkle that would eventually find a home on their inexpressive faces.

But not me. I've allowed myself to feel. Really feel every bit of this life. And my face will show it.

And Lord willing, when I'm much older, when my bones are twisted and I'm all covered up in gray, my grandchildren will sit in my lap, touch my face, and study every line. And I will tell them stories of how those deep wrinkles got there. The trials that brought the ones that appear when I furrow my brow, the silly things my husband and children said and did that made me get the ones on the bridge of my nose, and most importantly, the ones on the sides of my mouth ...

The ones that will remind me, from this day forward, of all of the happiness that I have stumbled upon and soaked in.

I'm looking forward to the next time my friend comes over for lunch. I'm going to tell her that I know exactly what wrinkles she was talking about now ...

And that I try every day of my life to make them deeper, still.

  

Revealed.

I remember what Sunday mornings used to be like. Before I spent them in the nursery, wrestling what feels like a twenty pound bag of snakes. Sweating. Rolling my eyes at myself because I just had to wear this dress and it sure doesn't make it easy for me to move nor is it comfortable in the least bit. Before I had my hair pulled constantly and my bracelets ripped off, fighting a sleepy child.

Before these days, I sat comfortably in my pew. Bible in my lap, maybe a notepad out to take some notes. My husband's arm around me, listening attentively with absolute peace of mind.

I look in front of us now, on most Sunday mornings, before I leave to head to the nursery to listen to the sermon in there - because my child won't stop squealing or babbling or crying or screaming or just trying to flirt with the pretty girls that sit behind us, distracting everyone in plain view. I juggle the books, toys, snacks, and anything and everything else within arms reach I can use to distract him, but nothing works. I see the young couples in the rows, pointing out things to each other in their Bibles, cuddled close together with the husband's arm around the wife, calmness on their faces. That used to be us, I tell myself, as I stand up with my son in my arms, look down at our train wreck of a pew, the lonesome gap between my husband and I, grab my bag and let out a big huff of breath to display my discouragement. 

It is one of those inevitable moments where I feel like I wasn't cut out for this mother stuff.

And then, once we get into the nursery, something in that moment is revealed to me.

I finally get him calmed down, tuck his little arm under mine, and begin to rock him slowly. The room is quiet and still. We stare at the mint green wall with the beautifully painted tree. And I see his head lift up to look me in the eyes. Over the speaker the preacher talks of being aware of our treasures. And at that moment, I am. He snuggles up closer to me, and I can feel his head relax on my bicep, eyelids having trouble staying opened. The way the light hits his skin makes it shimmer, almost like there is gold in it. He falls asleep with a little bit of a smile on his face. I wanted to be in there, with them.... but he, he is right where he wanted to be. And it is revealed to me, that as exhausting as motherhood is sometimes, and as much as it has changed the routine I've been so comfortable with, I can't imagine being like those couples in the pew again. I can't imagine not looking over at my husband and chuckling when a big burp comes out of such a little body. I can't imagine little arms not flailing in front of me as we sing our hymns. I can't imagine not seeing a little finger tracing the shapes in the books we pull out with hesitation.

And I can't, as much as I could try, imagine a Sunday morning ... with empty arms.

Being a mother has revealed to me that as much as I loved the honeymoon phase, this chapter of our lives is far better and I could never imagine life again, without my little shadow.

He's a little wobbly now. I watch his chubby thighs squat as he figures out a way to get down from the object he just pulled up on. Just three weeks ago he was learning to crawl. Today, he is standing while holding on to things and taking steps to get closer. He changed so quickly from the quiet little baby that we carried around to the child that illuminates every room we bring him into. 

If someone could tell me how to stop this clock, and just be allowed to sit here, in this day I've spent with my son until I feel I've soaked up enough of it, I'd give anything. If I could stop the sun from setting, just for one day, just for a little while, until I felt enough sugars on my lips, saw enough smiles, and heard enough laughter to have it memorized in my soul, I can assure you, I would. But that's not what a sun is for. It's for counting our days. For reminding us that we have only a short amount of time to fill them with as much significance and joy as we can.

I often find myself staring at him when he doesn't know I'm watching, just playing with his toys and jabbering to himself. He always focuses so intently on everything he wants to play with. Sometimes I wonder if he'll one day be an architect. No matter what type of fun or colorful toy he touches, he is always inquisitive about how it is assembled. Such a promising little mind that I am helping shape and mold. And as I watch him, I feel an overwhelming sense of  happiness to know that he is a part of me. But with the happiness always comes a little bit of sadness when I remember that I will only be given one of these moments, just like this.

And I can never get it back.   

Being a mother has revealed to me that life flies by entirely too fast and as much as I ache to, I can't slow down a single day, or a single moment, of this beautiful journey.

Last week, I traveled back to where I grew up for a day in order to help my mom get some of my grandmother's things in order. I sat there with her, looking through old photo albums, watching her face light up when she saw one of my brother and me years ago. They were faded, partly because of the quality of cameras back then, but mostly because they had been in the book, behind the cover, for almost 30 years. But what isn't faded, are my memories of my childhood with my mother.

Two things I would never be able to separate in my mind are music and my childhood. I can still see her, in her lightly washed flare leg bluejeans with big vertical pockets, dancing to Gary Morris songs on our living room floor. She always encouraged us to dance with her, and so we would get up from whatever had our attention at the time, grab her hands and start moving. I have no doubt in my mind that it brought my mother so much joy to share those moments with us. If I had only known then that she was probably wishing to freeze that moment, I would have made it last so much longer. For her. I wouldn't have raced back to my barbies or my play "school". I would have held her hands and danced with her there until she let go. I would have stretched it out as long as I could. For her.

 For me.

I had no idea how much my mother loved me. It wasn't hard to guess. She has always been nothing but selfless for me and my brother. She has always given anything and everything to ensure our safety and happiness. I was pretty sure I could imagine just how much she probably loved me as I got older, but I could never really understand until I had my son. And now I know.

She had it much harder than I do. She didn't have the Internet to google questions about baby foods or sleep patterns. She didn't have Pinterest to show her how to make homemade wipes or a Halloween costume. She learned as she went along and she did such an amazing job. I see a lot of her in myself. I say words to my son that I haven't heard in years, words that she used to say to us. I catch myself using the same looks and turning on the same music for us to dance to in the morning.

I couldn't make time stop for my mother. And I sure can't make it stop for me.

But if my children grow up, and look back on their childhood with affection and tenderness, and think that I have done even half the job with them that my mother did with us, I will be satisfied.

  

Being a mother has revealed to me what a wonderful mom I am blessed to have.

 

  Motherhood is so much harder than I ever imagined it would be. It is long sleepless nights and half eaten dinners. It is chasing around a speedy crawler and full hands and fumbling keys on the way to the car. It's even Sunday mornings in the nursery. And I'm only ten months in.

But I wouldn't trade a second of it, not for anything in the world. It reveals something new to me every day. Something about who I am, who God is, and what a blessing I've been given in my son. All I can do when I'm having one of those days where I'm feeling as though maybe I'm not cut out for this mother stuff, is to be aware of my treasures. Be conscious that this is the best we get in life. These are some of my happiest days. Even worn out, when I lay my head on the pillow at night and think back on all I've done with my son that day and all that has made me laugh and smile, it was worth it. And I can't slow the days down, not a bit. But I can make sure I use them up. And show him how much I love him every opportunity I get. Just like my mother did for me.

Dear Me: A Letter To My Teenage Self

{picture from weheartit.com}

Over at Chatting At The Sky, I saw that Emily Freeman was encouraging her peers to write a letter to their teenage selves as a way to introduce her new book Graceful, so I thought I would join in and link up! Sounds like fun, right? Or cathartic, nonetheless.

I've written a letter somewhat like this in the past, but now that I am at a very different place in my life {a mother}, I realize I have so much more to say to myself! So .. here goes nothing.

Dear Teenage Me,

Clear your mind of everything you think is important. Erase it. Being the head cheerleader. Who you are going to the Homecoming dance with. What that girl said about you in Algebra class. Forget it. Today those things seem bigger than life. You will lose sleep over them. You will think that those things make up your character. But don't be fooled. They mean nothing in the grand scheme of things.

Once you get out into the real world, you will find that what matters is how you treat people. How you love them. How you forgive. What is important is your faith and how it is used as a tool, as an example for the lives of others. Your family, and how much quality time you can spend with them before you no longer have the chance. When you get older, you will no longer get to see your grandparents as often because of distance. Don't let that stop you. See them as much as you can. Hug their necks as tight as you can. And don't just smile and nod when they tell you those stories of being barefoot in the park on the day they met. Listen. Really listen.

What is also important are your friendships that you build. The girl that you are in constant competition with now, well, believe it or not, you guys will end up really good friends in your late twenties. You will find out that you and her have more in common than you ever thought. So be kind to her now. Don't let your own insecurities and jealousy get in the way of a beautiful friendship. In fact, nip that in the bud now while you have a chance. Life is not a competition. Rejoice in the success of others and be happy for them. Don't envy their lives. Don't try to live up to what others do or what they have. You are the only version of you that will ever be created. Be content in who you are. What you look like. What you are talented at. Be at peace with you. The earlier you learn this, the better. I'm afraid you don't catch on before your mid twenties, but oh, how I wish you would.

That emptiness you feel inside, yeah I remember it. The one you try to fill with guys that disrespect you and treat you like dirt? That space is for God to fill. Stop trying to let someone else make you happy. It doesn't work. Get out of the abusive relationships. Be brave. Don't look back. You will eventually get to feel what love really feels like. This is not it. And this will take its toll on you. I'm sorry, but it does. It leads you down a path of low self esteem and it spirals out of control. Some of your worst characteristics as an adult stem from this portion of your life. Though, I wouldn't want you to change any of it. It led us here. Just take heart. Know that it passes. You get through it. You learn. You eventually heal that part of your soul and you feel love.

It's coming, hold on.

Right now, you couldn't get farther away from your brother, I know. I mean, eww, he's your brother, right? Right now you are too cool to hang out with him. To try to understand him. You will soon realize he is one of the best friends you will ever have. You will be there for each other through thick and thin. Some of your favorite moments of your life ... will be with him. And nothing can come between the two of you and break that bond. You are there for each other when you need each other most. And as "cool" as you think you are now, you will soon realize that he's always been a lot cooler than us, let's face it.

 

More than anything, be hopeful. I can tell you, life when you get here, and meet up with me, is glorious. You find a man that thinks you are worth marrying, flaws and all. I know you don't believe me now, but it's true. He helps you work through all of the pain from your past, and doesn't leave your side. He helps heal you. And once you're healed he makes you his wife and he gets to see the best parts of you, deep inside. You don't deserve him, don't get me wrong, but he's worth all of the heartache you are going to feel on the road to finding him. Every time you think you've really messed up, don't be too hard on yourself. Sometimes mistakes lead you to the best endings.

And the family you have always wanted? Well, I can't tell you how many children you will end up with, but I know for a fact that you will one day feel your heart overflow with joy because you make a sweet little boy laugh. It's the best feeling in the world. This is what I'm trying to tell you. All of the worries you have now, about your skin and your weight and what everyone thinks of you ... it's all petty. When you are sneaking up on thirty, you will go out in public with spit up on your shoulder and sweet potatoes in your hair. You won't have on any makeup and will have some weight from your pregnancy left on your hips. But it won't matter. The little boy you will have in your arms will make you so incredibly proud, it won't matter one bit what you look like. It's the beauty of motherhood. You stop being so self centered and your life becomes centered around someone else. You'll love it. Dirty diapers and all.

So I will make this easy for you, and sum it all up.

Replace all of those unimportant things in your life with things that matter. With God, with family, with true friendships, and with studying. (By the way, you are going to lose at Trivial Pursuit every time you play it, at least until you are 30. Just get used to it).

Don't worry so much about what people think of you. It won't matter. Your idea of success when you get older won't be how popular you are or how many guys want to date you. It will be the happiness you have in your marriage, the love you feel with your son, the friendships you've acquired over the years, and most importantly, the name you have as a Christian.

Live for others. If you are constantly living to find your own happiness, you very seldom will. But if you devote yourself to charity work and giving to others, you will find all kinds of joy. You've got a long way to go, but you'll look back and smile on your journey, I promise.

And never, ever, forget you are loved.

life lessons + a count down

So I was getting some things together the other day to make a homemade project for my son's birthday party in November. I stopped for a second to think about the fact that time has gone by so fast, and in less than 3 months, my little joy will already be a year old. How can that be? That's when it hit me. Just a month after that party, we will be celebrating another birthday. One that came all too soon.

My 30th.

When did this happen?

I remember being a child and hearing my friends talk about their thirty year old parents, and how OLD I felt like they were. I remember it like it was yesterday. I just cringe thinking of that now.

Thirty can't be old.

I have no aches or pains. I've still got creativity and inspiration running through my veins. I've got a sweet little family that I can't wait to spend time with every day. I've got a husband that still refers to me as his "hot wife" and a son that thinks I'm the funniest person on the planet. I've got friends that want to come over to play board games so we can all make fools of ourselves. And I've got the love of a God that will never leave me nor forsake me.

I haven't gotten old.

I've ARRIVED.

.........................................................................

So to ease into this phase of my life a little more than I could have, I'm going to be sharing with you a countdown. Of things I've learned in my years as a 20-something, and experiences that I have had, both good and bad. The last 9 years of my life have been wonderful, but when that birthday rolls around in a few months, I want to say goodbye to my twenties with sentiment and love and welcome my thirties with confidence and anticipation. As far as happiness goes, something tells me I've got far more to look forward to, then anything I'm leaving behind.

So let me start with TWENTY.

{Taken at one of my brother's concerts in Waco, Tx / with my friend Amy}

My second/third year of college. I was learning hard lessons about moving out of a small town. You see, in a small town, you feel like everyone knows you. You are trapped in such a bubble, that a lot of times, you feel like everyone actually cares about every little thing you do. You get wrapped up in yourself. At least, I did.

But believe me, you get one big reality check when you move off to a new city. With new people, who not only do not know you, but do not care who you were and where you came from. They don't care if you were class president or head cheerleader. They don't care who your parents are, or what kind of grades you made. This realization was probably the best thing that could have ever happened to me. It humbled me. It was hard at the time, but all for the best.

I started to see that there will always be people smarter than I am. More athletic than I am. Funnier than I am. Prettier than I am. More creative than I am. Healthier than I am.

And what I had to learn the hard way is that,  IT'S OK.

Life is not a competition.

Unfortunately, a lot of women don't learn this lesson until they are far out of their twenties.

And it was something that I definitely wasn't going to learn in high school. You see, there was this one girl. I had known her since we were probably about 3 or 4 years old because of our t-ball teams. And we started out as friends. But somewhere along the way, we started competing. I'm not sure why. We took each others' friends. We took each others' boyfriends. We always tried to be better than the other one at everything. And if we weren't, we would just act as if we didn't care about that certain thing at all. "Well you go be good at that, because I don't even like that!" ... Ha. Who were we fooling? Only ourselves, I think.

In the last few years, I have reconnected with this person, and I can tell you, because of my own insecurity, jealousy, and need to be "better than the rest", I missed out on years of a great friendship.

And it's all so sad to look back at all of our disagreements in High School and know that if only we could have popped the small town bubble we were living in, we could have been really great friends. I'm so excited now that we have grown up and gotten together to catch up on what has been going on in our lives. I really enjoy being around her, she makes me laugh a ton!

{Reunion w/ my very first friends in May} 

....................................................................... 

The lesson I had to learn at age twenty was a hard one.

And it sure took me long enough to learn it:

Rejoice in the success of others. You don't have to match it. Your success will always be different than someone else's. I see that now. How good I was at art and sports and all of that other junk make no difference now. What matters is that I genuinely care about the well being of others. No matter what kind of beef we have had in our past, I want to know that people are happy. And loved. And have a friend in me. A true friend. That they could call any time, day or night.

Because what makes me successful is not where I'm from. It's not some silly crown I won because a handful of people voted for me.

What makes me successful is where I'm going. And the crown I get to wear when I get there.

{2 Timothy 4:8}

20 Things I Want To Teach My Son

I came across an article a couple of days ago called "15 Things Moms Should Teach Their Sons". Curious and definitely needing some guidance, I decided to click on the link and see what these 15 things were. Some of them were good, I will admit, but some of them were incredibly disheartening. There were a lot about safe sex and finding the "perfect job".

So I decided to make my own list of lessons. Not one that everyone else should follow, because I am definitely FAR from all of the answers. I'm new at this Mommy thing and I will most assuredly learn as I go. But this list is for me. These are the things I want to teach MY son, because I don't want my son to be just a "good man". I want him to be a Man of God.

20 Things I Want to Teach my Son:

1. People that try constantly to find happiness for themselves very seldom do. The people that truly make their goal in life to make others happy, often open the door to unexpectedly find happiness sitting on their own doorsteps.

2. You might be a business man, an athlete, or even a doctor. But the most IMPORTANT thing you will ever be, is the spiritual leader of your home.

3. You don't "become a man" based on the size of your muscles, the size of your truck, or how old you are when you get your first kiss. You become a man based on your character, your integrity, and your priorities.

4. The world is lying when they say that men cannot be sensitive AND strong. Compassionate AND brave. The bravest man to ever walk this earth, wept.

5. Make good on your word. If you say you are going to do something, DO IT. Don't let others down, you wouldn't want them to do that to you.

6. The best friends are going to be the ones that respect you when you say NO to something. Not the ones that make fun of you and try to pressure you.

7. Take the time to do charity work. It's good for the soul.

8. Be wise with your money. But don't live for material things. Everything we "own" is borrowed.

9. If a girl doesn't respect herself, she isn't going to respect you. If she constantly needs the wrong kind of attention, her issues run far deeper than the surface, and that is a tangled web. And if she doesn't hold you to your highest potential and help you be a better Christian, she is not the girl for you.

10. Never make a big decision without praying about it first.

11. Nothing, ... not movies, music, hobbies, NOTHING should take the place of studying God's Word.

12. If you want something bad enough, don't give up until you get it. I know, this one is cliche`, but if you have regrets, I want it to be because it was out of your control. Not because you gave up. That's an ache that will never go away.

13. You don't have to "sow your wild oats" like everyone will tell you. The road less traveled usually brings the greatest rewards.

14. Enjoy every day and be content with what you have. The grass isn't greener on the other side, and if appears that way it is probably because you've been too busy looking over the fence and haven't taken the time to take care of your own yard.

15. Whenever you see someone less fortunate than you, whether it be a homeless person or a disabled person, always say to yourself - "But by the grace of God, there goes I." My mother taught this to us and it has always helped me remember that I shouldn't complain because I could always have it much worse.

16. Try to stay healthy. Eat fruits and veggies and stay active. You don't want your body to break down on you long before you are ready.

17. You don't have to "live BIG" to have a good life. You don't have to have all of the finest things, travel to the most beautiful places, or attend the most elaborate parties. Sometimes the families who have it the best, are the ones who live humbly, give to those in need, sit around the dinner table, and kneel at night by their children's beds listening to them pray.

18. God made sex to be an enjoyable, beautiful, and SPIRITUAL experience. That is why you save it for your wife.

19. Don't let evil influences into your home. Even if you think they won't phase you. "For as he thinks in his heart, so he is." - Proverbs 23:7

20. One day, you will be coming up on 30, and wonder what you were doing for all of those years. Have an answer that makes you proud.

So that's my list.

What would you add?

The Empty Space in My Yard ...

When I was a little girl, I wanted to be a dancer.

I imagined myself standing on a stage, with a huge audience. The spot light shining directly into my eyes so that I could not see any of the faces. They all looked like shadows. And I would dance to the most beautiful music I had ever heard.

I dreamed of traveling the world and becoming famous.

This is what I wanted my life to be.

Tonight, I walked around my neighborhood for the first time since we moved there almost 3 years ago.

It was getting late, so the sun was setting. The temperature was cool. Because this is July 4th weekend, many of the houses had American flags blowing out in front.

And as I walked by, I saw children playing in the sprinklers. I saw dads out mowing the lawn. And mothers watering their flowers in the front yard would smile and wave as I walked by. People were sitting out on porch swings, and I could hear the laughter of children as they played with their puppies or chased each other down on bicycles.

And as I came around the last corner of my neighborhood, and got close enough to see my house... I looked ahead and saw an empty spot in my yard.

And in that spot, I imagined me and Adam standing there, watching our children as they played in the sprinkler, smiling and laughing.

And as I got up to the front door, and walked over our door mat that reads Bless This Home, I thought of my dream of becoming a dancer.

You know, there are some people who have big plans for their lives. They want to tour the country, sign autographs, and be invited on talk shows. They want their name in lights and their star on the sidewalk in Hollywood.

They would never dream of living a life with a white picket fence. They don't want the boring Friday nights in the front yard. To have to cook dinner for their husband when he gets home from work. To go to bed early on Saturday night, so they can get up early and go to Church on Sunday morning. They won't have time to read their children bedtime stories, or bake a birthday cake with their kids. And they are ok with that life. Working. Autographs. Dinner Parties with all of the in crowd.

But as I walked back into my house tonight and shut the door behind me...

I remembered that empty space in my yard. Where my little family will one day play on a Friday night. And that will be the highlight of my week.

And I THANK MY GOD that I chose this life.

Changing Us.

Live for something.

Do good, and leave behind you a monument of virtue that the storm of time can never destroy. Write your name in kindness, love, and mercy, on the hearts of thousands you come in contact with year by year; you will never be forgotten. Your name, your deeds, will be as legible on the hearts you leave behind as the stars on the brow of evening... Thousands of men breathe, move, and live; pass off the stage of life and are heard of no more. Why? They did not a particle of good in the world; and none were blessed by them, none could point to them as the instrument of their redemption; not a line they wrote, not a word they spoke, could be recalled, and so they perished--their light went out in darkness, and they were not remembered more than the insects of yesterday. Will you thus live and die, O man immortal?

Live for something.

-Thomas Chalmers

Farewell: A Letter To The Old Me

This Friday, November 12th, is 'To Write Love On Her Arms' day around the world. I'm not sure if you know about this day, but it is incredibly important to me. It is a day to spread awareness about a non-profit movement dedicated to presenting hope and finding help for people struggling with depression, addiction, self injury, and suicide. TWLOHA exists to encourage, inform, and inspire. On this day, people all across the country and all around the world write or draw the word LOVE on their arms to remind anyone who is hurting, that there is a way out. That way is Love. You can read about my journey to find it, here.On this day, I do a lot of reflecting. I think about the blessing of becoming Brand New. And I wonder how different things would have been if I had the ability to write a letter, a letter to the old me, knowing now what I wish I had known then. I know I could have kept myself from a lot of mistakes, a few heartbreaks, and some incredibly difficult moments. I probably would have let myself in on the things that really matter in life, and on the things that really don't matter at all. And I know that it all shapes who we are, and what we become. I get that. But it is still fun to wonder ... what if I could have written that letter?

I'm thinking it would sound something like this....

Dear _______,

One day you will look back, as I am now, and wonder where the time went. Apparently it didn't stop for us. Imagine that. So here are some things you need to do. Hug your grandfather. Every chance you get. Focus more on your school work. And don't blame me, missy, when you can't speak a lick of Spanish. Surprise. Yes, even after 7 years of it. No comprende. Study. Study. Study. Choose your friends wisely. And from where I'm standing now, looks like you'll be pretty good at that. Show them your heart. Always tell them exactly how you feel. Some will love you for it. Those are the ones that matter. Be there for them. When they need you. Not just when you need them. I know you're not going to believe me, but you'll learn to trust people again. It's a great feeling. Look forward to that. In the meantime, expect to lose a lot of important people in your life because of your baggage. The ones that really love you though, they'll forgive you. And you will come to a phase of pride, doubt, and selfishness. But don't worry. At least you will be able to acknowledge it. As hard as it may seem, you're a lot better off than those that deny they ever came to that point. That will only make us stronger. In your weaknesses ... turn to God. Better yet, in everything.

Get ready for some hard times. I'm not going to sugar coat it for you. I can't tell you where you went wrong, because even the things that didn't go as planned still turned out the way they were supposed to. So don't be so hard on yourself. Everyone makes mistakes. If you learn from your mistakes, then they were never mistakes to begin with. They were lessons. I know you are going to agonize over them and over analyze them, because let's face it, that is what you and I do. But here are 3 words that I will not be able to repeat enough to you throughout this letter. Let it go. Don't worry so much about what they think of you. Find you. Be you. And be happy with that. Envy is the mother of gossip, remember that. You can't please everyone, so stop trying. No really, ... stop trying. Forgiveness will be one of the greatest things you can experience. Apologize. Even when they don't. You are doing it for you, not for them. Don't hold grudges. The only person that a grudge ends up hurting is you. Besides, life is too short. One day you'll blink and you will be here, where I am.

Love? Oh brother. You are a mess when it comes to love. Yes, I said a mess. Fall in love when you're ready. Not when you're lonely. I'm not going to tell you that you will never experience a little piece of your heart breaking. But how boring would life be, if you didn't, right? I know it sounds crazy, but trust me on this one. Remember that guy that you are searching for that everyone keeps telling you doesn't exist? Well, he does. I don't want to spoil that part for you, but let's just say ... he's far more amazing than you expected. Take more time to be with your family. The closer you get to me, the more you realize what a blessing they are. Be kind to people. Be generous. You are going to meet a lot of amazing people on your way here. People that will change you in ways you never expected. You won't understand this now, but those people are called Relayers.

And don't become complacent. Mediocre was never what we wanted. Keep passion in everything you do. Stop worrying about what the world needs. Find what makes you come alive and do it. Because what the world needs, is people who have come alive.

See you when you get here, it's a fun ride.

ME.