Truth is, the picture we end up with isn’t always the one we were shooting for. 

Note: This is the third post in a series called The Bad News About Raising Christian Kids.

“It starts the day the two lines appear.

The laying down of a life. The putting someone else before oneself. We forego soft cheese and too much coffee and soda with our pizza (at least the first time around.) We develop daily routines like, “Wake up. Make bed. Take shower. Eat breakfast. Throw up. Put makeup on. Go to work. Come home. Fall asleep. Repeat.” Those two lines are the death knell on the former life–the one that was all about us. We swallow vitamins the size of Volkswagens, put our size 2s away with a sigh, and replace the home decor tomes with how-to-raise-your-baby-books….”

You can read the rest of The Bad News About Raising Christian Kids {part one} here, and the next …

“Our sons are sons of Adam; our daughters, daughters of Eve, and rebel blood runs in their veins. We want them to miss it; want to have trained and loved and discipled it out of them. We are hoping they’ll miss the heartache and bad decisions we made, that surely our love will speak louder than the voices of culture around them and all our hours and days and years will have proven us as their best friends, the ones they should listen to and trust.

If only… “

read the rest of The Bad News About Raising Christian Kids {part two} here.

So, when all is said and done … what’s a  weary mama to do?

First of all, recognize the unknown variables of parenting.

We’ve been conditioned to expect that hard work in=expected results out. Yet we truly need to recognize that parenting is not a matter of simple mathematics. It’s more like algebra. Instead of 1+1=2, we have something more like 1+1x=??? Your child’s soul, personality and the story God is writing in his or her life are all unknown variables thrown into the equation. We can see evidence of this when we take two children from the same family just a year or two apart and note very early on how different they are! Acknowledging your child’s other-ness–his or her completely unique wiring and bents and ways of filtering the world–is a major first step to getting a grip on what happens as “Christian kids” grow up.

Then there’s the unknowns regarding … well, everything else. What will be the most influential event, group of people, book, movie, even beckoning social movement happening *outside* your home as your children grow up? We aren’t the only influence on our children, and of course, most of us recognize that. But I’ve had more than one wrestling match with God over some of the events and people that have seemingly changed the course of my children’s lives. And honestly, you wouldn’t want to be. It’s too big a burden to bear. Not to mention the fact that it would turn out some really weird people.

And then there’s the fact that it’s more than likely that you’re not the only parent involved. You’re just one, just the mom. And you can’t control dad (oh my, there’s a whole ‘nother post.) So ultimately, your mothering is just a piece of what’s happening in your child’s life.

Okay, so that’s kind of depressing. And pretty much makes me want to throw in the towel now and start watching period dramas and eating bon bons, which let’s all admit is way more enticing than laundry and character training and lets not get started on grammar, anyway. Is that what I’m suggesting? Nope. Not by a long shot.

Second … recognize that those realities don’t negate your responsibilities.

Check out these directives God gave to Ezekiel in the book that goes by his name …

“I am sending you to them who are stubborn and obstinate children, and you shall say to them, ‘Thus says the Lord GOD.’ As for them, whether they listen or not– for they are a rebellious house– they will know that a prophet has been among them. And you, son of man, neither fear them nor fear their words, though thistles and thorns are with you and you sit on scorpions; neither fear their words nor be dismayed at their presence, for they are a rebellious house. But you shall speak My words to them whether they listen or not, for they are rebellious.” Ezekiel 2:4-7

Now, I’m not suggesting that you just accept that your children are rebellious and that’s all to be said about that. I believe God listens to a mama’s prayers, that He honors the dedication of our children to Him, and that planting seeds of His word and love and grace in their life matters–in fact, that’s my point. I’m saying that this is the word of God, and He’s directing Ezekiel to speak truth to HIS children … whether they listen or not (a phrase repeated a multitude of times in the surrounding chapters.)

In other words … we are called to do what is right, regardless of the seen result. We are called to obey what we’ve had impressed on our hearts as our mom-ly responsibility. We are called to love our children as Christ loved us; to speak the truth in love; to nurture and protect and serve … to put no stumbling blocks in their way. We do not retreat at the first sight of struggle with our children because we remind ourselves (and need to remind each other!) we serve God, and not man, because we want to serve Him well, and because we are following Jesus’ example of grace-infused love.

Third … and this is a hard one … recognize that it’s not about you.

Now, that’s a bit tough to swallow. Walk up to a mom who perhaps skipped college and maybe a longed-for career to wipe noses and scrub toilets and kiss booboos for eighteen years, tell her it’s not about her and you might just get a punch in the face–that lesson’s been well-learned, thankyouverymuch.

Or, has it?

I find, personally, that I’m way too quick to look at my children’s behavior and take it absolutely personally–whether they’re two or twenty-one. I admit it. Whether it’s a toddler’s refusal to come out from behind my knees or a young-adult’s choice of where to sit at dinner, my gut reaction is to think about how it reflects on me, what it means about me, or how it effects me. Gross, I know, but there it is.

And here’s what I’m realizing, and I think we all need to hear this loud and clear.

YOUR CHILD IS NOT MAKING HIS OR HER DECISIONS BASED ON YOU.

AT. ALL.

Human beings are egocentric creatures. Redeemed or not, young or old, 99% of the time when a decision is made it’s because it’s what appeals most at that moment *to the person making the decision.*

Translation: your infant is not in bed screaming at night because they want to manipulate you.

Your middle-schooler is not wearing that ugly shirt for the third day in a row because they want to embarrass you.

Your young adult did not sit at the table with his or her friends because they want to show everyone they despise you.

Why do they do those things? The same reason you do things: BECAUSE THEY WANT TO.

The cord was cut a long time ago, mama. Please know how much I am preaching this–in caps–to myself! I’m still horrible at remembering it! But I’m finding that the faster I come against my own crazy-mama mental overreactions with this truth: it’s not about me, the faster peace returns to my life. Your child does what he or she does because that’s what he or she wants to do. Period. With the exception of very few and far between moments when their prefrontal cortex has a glimmer of light and they’re able to think about the results of their actions, precociously.

I’m going to go ahead and break here. You’ll need to stay tuned for part four!

How I love this picture!

My husband is the best baby-daddy ever. And by that I mean he just flat loves babies.

He’s got no fear of diapers or tiny limbs or little sac gowns.

And he’s always been a trooper when it comes to stepping up to the plate with all our little ones in a row. Personally, I think part of the reason our particular “in a row” is such a long one is that he misses cuddling tiny people when they get too big for it.

Today I have the privilege of sharing at The Better Mom. And I know it’s Father’s Day and you’re up to your eyeballs in wrapping ties and helping littles with glue and construction paper as they make cards and maybe shaping some burgers for later on the grill. But would you take a moment, sweet mom, to read this letter from the heart of your own Father? You can find it here: A Letter From Your Father at The Better Mom. 

 

“But they that wait upon the LORD shall renew their strength; they shall mount up with wings as eagles; they shall run, and not be weary; and they shall walk, and not faint.” Isaiah 40:31

 

It’s such a common verse. You may have heard it a zillion times.

But do we have any clue what it actually means???

I’ve been musing on it the past few weeks and got a chance to write a bit for The Better Mom this weekend. Won’t you join me?

 

“I’m not very good at waiting.

It stresses me out when there are decisions to be made … and they haven’t been made yet. When we’re going on vacation … but there are three weeks until we leave. When we’ve been to the doctor … and have to wait on test results. And when the water takes too long to boil. That’s pathetic, but there, I said it…”

Please click over to read the rest: What Does It Mean to Wait On the Lord?

Good habits.

They’re a good thing.

They’re also a bit hard to come by around here, lately!

With a daddy who’s been mostly out of town for the past five months, leaving mama tired and a bit overworn, multiple family issues needing a lot of emotional attention, a cross-country move, and more secret pains than one can shake a stick at, it seems many good habits have fallen to the wayside around here! We have two more weeks of homeschooling to finish, and then summertime arrives and along with trips to the pool (some pool, somewhere yet to be determined!) this mama also plans to reinstate some of the habits that help our home run a bit more smoothly.

Think assigned laundry days, chore charts, nightly baths and setting out clothes (for *me!!!*), and one more thing: Bible memorization!

I’m missing our family reading times and they’re going to be one of the very first things set back into place. I wrote a bit about it at MomHeart today!

How can a young man keep his way pure?
            By keeping it according to Your word.

With all my heart I have sought You;
            Do not let me wander from Your commandments.

Your word I have treasured in my heart,
            That I may not sin against You.” ~Psalm 119:9-11

I’ve always loved the story of Mary, the mother of Jesus, who, when she visited her cousin Elisabeth who was also miraculously with child, couldn’t stem the tide of scripture and praise that came bubbling up from her young soul. What a picture of being full to overflowing with the Lord (in more ways than one!) and what an example to all of us of what we surely need to be filling our own hearts with.

You’ve probably listened in awe yourself to a child reciting scripture at some point–whether at some church awards ceremony, a homeschool event, or maybe at the end of your local VBS week. It’s pretty awe-inspiring to hear little lips quoting verses, passages, even chapters! And recently Ann Voskamp, Beth Moore and many others have spearheaded movements among many adults to follow the little one’s example–a wonderful reminder, to be sure. Why is it, I wonder, that we encourage our children to do so many things we ourselves don’t do? Ahhh, but that’s another post.  

You can read the rest by clicking through: Tips of Memorizing Scripture with Children, at MomHeart!

Click here for The Bad News About Raising Christian Kids {part one}!

We mamas, we love. Oh, how we love! And love means correcting and cuddling, training and teaching, reading pages of books and writing hundreds of notes and letters and cards. We decide to try to love the way God does. We read about Jesus’ example with His disciples and we pray and pray and repent when we mess up and miss another night’s sleep and try again.

And in all our effort, we miss something very important; something that’s there, embedded in the Story, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise …

Our sons are sons of Adam; our daughters, daughters of Eve, and rebel blood runs in their veins. We want them to miss it; want to have trained and loved and discipled it out of them. We are hoping they’ll miss the heartache and bad decisions we made, that surely our love will speak louder than the voices of culture around them and all our hours and days and years will have proven us as their best friends, the ones they should listen to and trust.

If only.

We forget how God walked with Adam and Eve in the cool of the day, yet they turned their ears to the serpent.

We forget how He rescued them from Egypt with signs and wonders, feeding and clothing them along the way, yet they rebelled and rejected and lusted for leeks and onions.

We forget the cycles of rebellion and repentance the Israelites repeated over and over again for hundreds of years.

There are a lot of guilt-ridden, broken mamas out there. Your child has rebelled; turned her back on you, your values, your family, your home. They blame you, revile you, disparage you in private and public. And your heart shatters over and over and over as you weep before God and ask …

What did I do wrong?

I hear you, my friends, though your voices are muffled. We are a hidden sisterhood; the broken ones, hiding our hurt with a brave face, hoping no one will ask how the child is doing, fearful of opening emails and text messages and facebook. We are misunderstood and have the wounds deepened by well-intentioned people who have plenty of opinions and little information to base those opinions on.

We weep on bathroom floors and crumpled in chairs and hiding under covers. And we try to figure out how and where to find the strength to love well one more time, two more times, many more times. How, when all our effort seems to have been a waste?

Here’s what I’m hearing our Father remind us of, today …

He, God, is the perfect Father. Yet it’s obvious that many, many make the choice not to follow Him. Why? Why don’t all His children walk with Him? Has He not told enough stories? Not given enough gifts? Not shown enough love? I have surely made plenty of mistakes in my own efforts at mothering. But He? None. He has handled every situation perfectly, with grace and wisdom and care.

And yet He painted the picture of Himself as the Father of the Prodigal.

“And He said, “A man had two sons. The younger of them said to his father, ‘Father, give me the share of the estate that falls to me.’ So he divided his wealth between them. And not many days later, the younger son gathered everything together and went on a journey into a distant country, and there he squandered his estate with loose living.”~ Luke 15:11-13

The husband of a wandering wife.

“The Lord said to me, ‘Go again and love a woman who is beloved of a paramour and is an adulteress; even as the Lord loves the people of Israel, though they turn to other gods and love cakes of raisins.’” ~Hosea 2:1

The hen longing to gather her chicks … yet they would not.

“Jerusalem, Jerusalem, who kills the prophets and stones those who are sent to her! How often I wanted to gather your children together, the way a hen gathers her chicks under her wings, and you were unwilling.” ~ Matt. 23:37

If God’s perfect parenting is rewarded this way, why on earth would we expect our imperfect parenting to turn out perfectly obedient, grateful children?

There’s teaching out there that says if we will parent well, if we will follow a certain formula, if we will love enough, we will skip the whole teenage angst and rebellion thing. And so we parent hopefully. Then the children hit their teen years, go through a period of trying to assert their independence and figure out what they believe–which for MOST includes a time of rejecting what we believe–and we are absolutely shocked and start fine-tooth-combing every interaction we’ve had with them for fifteen years, trying to find the mistakes.

We find plenty, surely. Eve’s daughters haven’t yet reached perfection. But overall, we’ve worked hard. Hard enough that a broken heart shouldn’t be the result. Hard enough that this loss can make it feel impossible to try again.

I think it’s time to change our expectations. If we are going to follow God’s example in the way we love our children, perhaps we ought to consider that their response might just mirror the response of millions of others throughout the ages to His love. Maybe we ought to acknowledge that our kids need more than a good–even wonderful–even well-intentioned, purposeful, God-filled childhood.

They need an encounter with the Living God. And their hearts need to bow to Him.

Because when all is said and done, the problem is this:

 Christian kids can’t be raised. They must be born (again).

Click here for The Bad News About Raising Christian Kids {part three}

This blog has been on my mind for a long while. It’s a sensitive topic, and I do hope it’s received with the grace in which it’s written.

It starts the day the two lines appear.

The laying down of a life. The putting someone else before oneself. We forego soft cheese and too much coffee and soda with our pizza (at least the first time around.) We develop daily routines like, “Wake up. Make bed. Take shower. Eat breakfast. Throw up. Put makeup on. Go to work. Come home. Fall asleep. Repeat.” Those two lines are the death knell on the former life–the one that was all about us. We swallow vitamins the size of Volkswagens, put our size 2s away with a sigh, and replace the home decor tomes with how-to-raise-your-baby-books.

When a woman becomes a mama, it’s an amazing thing. The innocence, fragility, and just-plain-smallness of a newborn placed in one’s arms is really near shocking. Such a tiny bundle … such a giant weight. Responsibility, fear, love, exhaustion, hope, insufficiency … all come in like a flood.

I’ll never forget the day we took our firstborn back to the doctor for his 2-day checkup. The sweet nurse explained to me about how they needed to draw a “small amount” of blood to check for a zillion different things that could be wrong with him– from phenylketonuria to galactosemia (not sure, but I think this has something to do with Darth Vader). Somehow in all my reading I’d missed this information, but a “small amount” couldn’t be bad–I expected she’d get one of those little finger-prick type tools and we’d be done in a flash. And then she came toward my tiny, innocent, 48 hour old baby’s precious, tiny heel with a literal razor blade. (Where’s the deer-in-the-headlights emoticon when you need it?) She cut, he screamed, my husband went white, and I cried harder than the baby and fought an urge to knock the woman to the ground right there.

It was at that moment that I realized something: the world was after my baby, and I was the only one who cared. It made my stomach feel hollow, not feeling an adequate match to all the evil headed our way. And the battle had begun in earnest.

There weren’t enough books out there to make me feel equipped. I had to know … what does God want me to do with this child?

I’ll bet you felt the same way, mama.

And so we stack up the books and head to conferences and listen to audios and read blogs and ask for tons of advice and rock and sing and pray.

We map out a plan. This is good for a baby, that’s bad. This is good for a toddler, that’s bad. This is good for a child, that’s bad. This is good for a teenager, that’s bad. We keep them close when they’re little … because the nature of littles is to be kept close. And we pray. We snuggle and discipline. We make chore charts and teach them to do their own laundry. And we pray. We make thousands of breakfasts and lunches and dinners and we light candles sometimes and play beautiful music and we eat together around the table–and try to keep the TV off. We throw birthday parties and speak Scripture over them and tell them we believe in them. And we pray. We teach them to drive and open our arms to their friends in need of help. We forgive and ask forgiveness. And we pray. If we’re wise, we expand their horizons little by little as they grow. We want to be their introduction to other religions, to different cultures, to camping and fishing and airplane rides; so we give them a million great books and we take them as many places as we can. We tell them, over and over, that we know they have to make their own decisions and draw their own conclusions about what’s true. We surround them with people who believe in them and will help us steer them the right direction, keeping one thing prominent–the thing that matters above all …

One of them, an expert in the law, tested him with this question: “Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?”

Jesus replied: “‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.”

~Matthew 22:35-37

We do all He shows us to do–not perfectly, no!–but we do it all because somewhere along the line, we’ve heard/read/come to believe that if we do everything right, our children will grow up to appreciate our family, to embrace our values, and above all to love our God with all their heart, soul, and mind.

But there’s one little problem …

Click here for The Bad News About Raising Christian Kids {part two}

Oh the happiest Christmas, is a homecoming Christmas

With the snow flithering down, til the world seems new … 

~Michael W. Smith, The Happiest Christmas

Oh, how I love snow.

This morning (May 1st, I might add!) the snowflakes here in Denver are the perfect kind; the big, fat, feathery ones that float lazily to the ground and stick to everything in big fluffy globs. These are the kind that make my heart go pitter-pat; the ones I love to watch and catch and twirl in … even 43 years later.

Everyone in Colorado, by now, is certainly done with the snow. They kept brave faces last month, smiling with me as I exulted over yet another snow day since we were enjoying our first of the year, trying to convince themselves. Oh, yes! The moisture will be good–we’ve had a drought–hopefully will help keep the fires away.

Now the faces have become a bit jaded. Nope, we don’t have anymore firewood. Yup, it’s gonna snow again.

I wake up early, throwing open the blinds, take in the white and clap to myself in my room, find my robe and thank the Lord we’re on eight acres and no one will see the crazy lady playing in the snow. Dig through the closet for snow boots, tromp through the fluff (best sound *ever!*) snap pictures and kick giddy.

Because who wants to miss *this* snow?

I’ve loved it since I was little. Magic from the sky, where Jesus was. Every Christmas Eve especially when I prayed for snow and so many years the forecasters shook their heads, wondering where the surprise had come from–I knew; I’d asked for it. It was like a secret between God and I.

So what’s with the snow?

When you’re little it’s snow days; a break from school, snowmen and hot chocolate. I love all those things just as much today, quite honestly. But there’s more to it, I think. More than fun and play, more than even Christmas. I’ve been asking myself why it’s such a big deal to me; why I love it so. And I think I finally know the answer.

It’s the covering.

The way I look out and the trees are frosted and roofs glisten like so many cupcakes. The truck becomes a giant white hulking thing in the driveway, blades of glass iced, all the sky a turned-over bowl of powdered sugar. And the dirt in the backyard? On the front porch? The toys scattered in the drive, dead grass, bushes shorn for the season?

Covered in glistening white.

No matter how messy we left everything, how desolate the landscape, the glittering white laughs at it all, not caring where it lands, just covering, covering, covering …

… ’til the world seems new.

And I’m reminded once again how He covers.

Covers the dead places, the messes, the unfinished business. Covers with His grace the flaws and mistakes and general blech I see in my life.

Makes it all beautiful by covering it with Him.

“Purge me with hyssop, and I shall be clean; wash me, and I shall be whiter than snow.” ~Psalm 51:7

“Come now, and let us reason together, saith the Lord; though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as snow, though they be red as crimson, they shall be as wool.” ~Isaiah 1:18

It’s a miracle; a reminder of the whitest of white; nothing we can do to make it happen; nothing we can do to hold it back. He covers, and none can stop Him. Covers with Himself.

And it reminds me of what He looks like, too …

“I beheld till the thrones were cast down, and the Ancient of days did sit, whose garment was white as snow,
and the hair of his head like the pure wool: his throne was like the fiery flame, and his wheels as burning fire.” ~Daniel 7:9

“His countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as snow.” ~Matthew 28:3

“His head and his hairs were white like wool, as white as snow; and his eyes were as a flame of fire.” ~Revelation 1:14

Today, I wonder …

“Hast thou entered the treasuries of the snow?” ~Job 38:22

I know we’re nowhere near Christmas. But perhaps it’s not so far away after all. There’s snow outside at my house, and from the looks of the Rockies (plus what I learned in grade school), there’s nearly always snow somewhere. Always a new day, Jesus coming to bring covering, to change the look of everything.

His grace, in all this glory flithering down.

May you be covered today, friend.

Once in awhile, you read something great. A book gives you insight you’d never had before into a time period, a people group, or some current situation. A Scripture passage speaks to your heart and you know the Lord has planted something new with it. Once in a great while, a blogger says something you’d never thought of and your day takes a new turn.

Sometimes, the “revelation” is a complete surprise, and comes from somewhere you’d never expect.

This morning I woke to this in my Facebook feed. It was posted by a sweet friend who’s a military wife, and I’m sure all the brave ladies in those shoes laughed and nodded in recognition.

But it did something different for me.

For many years I’ve longed to live overseas. I heard a calling to be a missionary when I was very young, and ever since, God and I have fed that desire. Reading all of Amy Carmichael’s books was followed by two years of  listening to Elisabeth Elliot’s daily radio programs (and reading her books, as well) buying nearly every missionary biography in YWAM Press’ catalog, and of course studying the lives of heroic men and women in Sonlight curriculum with my kids. When people asked where I wanted to go, I’d often say “Everywhere.” And I mean it; I truly want to place my foot on every continent at some point. I keep hearing the passage in my head where God was talking to Abraham, calling him on his journey, and He said …

“Every place on which the sole of your foot treads shall be yours; your border will be from the wilderness to Lebanon, and from the river, the river Euphrates, as far as the western sea …”  Deuteronomy 11:24

I’ve always wanted my children to feel like the whole earth belongs to them. After all, it’s all their Father’s. I want to see the knowledge of God cover the earth, like the waters cover the sea. I want His glory to spread; I want people to be set free and children to know they are loved by their Creator. We moved here to Denver in part because we believe it’s a stepping stone to what’s next, and see it as part of our “training” for the mission field.

This past weekend, I spent a lot of time praying and asking the Lord, “Where exactly is it that you want us to go–first?” Seems like a logical question, right? Where are we aiming? What’s the goal? Unfortunately, clear answers weren’t forthcoming. It felt a bit frustrating, to be quite honest. When all was said and done, what I really heard was basically “Wait. There are pieces you can’t see, and I’m not ready to tell you yet.”

And this morning, this little “cartoon.” It sounded like my life–

“Instead of moving overseas, we’ve decided to try living everywhere for a few years at a time.” 

Hmmmmm. There are a lot of us who can relate to this idea. We live in a very mobile society; few of us stay in the same town or state for long. I used to think that was a really bad thing. It has certainly left us with a lot of weak spots–little sense of “home” or security; few or no relatives around to help with children and houses and such; a lack of *true* social networks. But there were Jesus’ words in my reading this morning …

“Go into all the world and preach the gospel to all creation.” Mark 16:15

What if part of the reason we live in such a mobile society is because God intends for us to actually follow this command–whether we want to do it intentionally, or not?

Part of the reason traditional missions is so powerful is the fact that leaving our comfort zone–our own “normal”–encourages us to DO SOMETHING DIFFERENT. When we’re in a new place, a different culture, with unfamiliar people, it’s not difficult to recognize both our need of and appreciation for God. It’s easier to behave differently–to speak to that stranger on the street, to reach out to the child at the feeding center–when that’s what you’ve specifically gone somewhere to do.

Here in my comfort zone, acting the same as I’ve always acted is what comes naturally.

But, what if we really embraced the idea that we are *all* called to share the good news–the gospel of Jesus’ coming to earth to redeem us and to reunite us with our Father–with everyone around us–regardless of where we are? What if God’s plan–just for now, or forever– was to move us from one place to another within our own country–whether it’s to the other side of the same neighborhood, across town, or half way across the continent–in order to stir us up, get us out of our comfort zones, and give us another chance to be His ambassadors?

If He’s been moving me from place to place in order to do just that, how well has it worked?

What’s my legacy in the places I’ve lived?

• Have I encouraged anyone to draw closer to Jesus?
• Lightened someone’s load?
• Helped them be a better mom?
• Discipled them?
• Brought light to darkness in some way?

What will I do with this new opportunity He’s given me? What impact will my time here, long or short, make on the people around me?

The answer has yet to be seen.

Grant Wood, American Gothic

I have to admit … I looked a little like that lady by the time we made it here from Florida.

The furrowed brow … the worried eyes … and can’t you just tell she’s biting her tongue trying *not* to say something? It’s the face of a woman who has been facing too much difficulty for a bit too long.

Maybe a lot too long.

I’m hoping having finally arrived in Colorado, the altitude will smooth out some of those wrinkles. Already I can sense a settling, breath expelled, shoulders dropping from their militant posture.

My mother in law is famous for enjoying only movies “where nothing happens.” Driving Miss Daisy is a perfect example. Lots of character development … little, if any, plot. Recently I took a recommendation from sweet Sarah Clarkson (if you ever hear her mention a book was worth reading, do yourself a favor and go get it!) and picked up a book by Wendell Berry called, Andy Catlett: Early Travels. It was wonderful; a slowed-down-to-the-sunbeams-speed story of a few days in the life of a young boy–just the sort of book my mother in law would like to see made into a movie, though I’m not sure it would sell many tickets. It was a quote from there that made me realize it–the sheer speed we’ve all been traveling over these past few months, and what we’re missing because of it.

I wrote a bit about it today and you can read it here if you click: The Better Mom … Why We All Might Need to Slow Down. Join me??

William-Adolphe Bouguereau, Rest

I am strong …

I am invincible …

I am tired.

Whoops, I think that was supposed to be “I am woman.” But “tired” fits better, today!

My husband is traveling this week for work, my little guys are *not* completely convinced there’s not a boogeyman in one of their new closets, and so I have “company” each night. Which, since I’m an extremely light sleeper, means I am NOT actually sleeping, per se. It’s more like … intermittent resting. And each morning at 6 am when the sun is blazing through my as-yet-naked-and-did-I-mention LARGE bedroom window, I slooowwwllly roll over and sneak out of bed for a much-needed cup of coffee, my Bible, and hopefully an hour of quiet!

It’s exhausting, sometimes, this mama-ing thing we do.

I’m talking a little about it today at MomHeart Online: He Gently Leads Those With Young. Won’t you join me? And say hello there, would you?