Here in the South, there are lists upon lists of superstitions and old wives’ tales on how to begin a new year.  Everything from eating black-eyed peas for good luck to not washing clothes for fear one will wash away any good luck.  My family was never superstitious, but growing up I remember many meals on January 1st consisting of black-eyed peas, greens and cornbread.  One of the sayings I always found particularly amusing is how one spends New Year’s Day is indicative of how the year will go.  My household has had exactly 0 collards, peas or cornbread today and both dishes and clothes have been washed.  The day has mostly consisted of being lazy and watching movies.  And a dead chicken. (!)  One of our roosters lost a fight with a dog during the night, so that was a fun greeting this morning.  I’d love to know what superstition says that means for our year.

While I’m not a believer in old wives’ tales or superstitions, I do know that how our year goes depends at least in part on how we live.  Our attitudes, our day to day choices, and what fills our calendars.  We set goals, make resolutions, and promise ourselves that this year will be different.  We’re all hopeful on January 1st that the year ahead will be the best year ever.  I’m the nerd who not only sets goals (two pages worth**insert face palm emoji here**because I seriously need to get my act together) but also chooses a word for the year.  This year my word is ‘mindful’.  I aim to be more mindful in all aspects of life.  Honestly that word wasn’t even on my radar until a therapist suggested it. To practice mindfulness, one is fully present in the moment- something this multi-tasking Mama stinks at.  Even being more purposeful in my actions, one thing at a time, would be a huge improvement.  So I’m aiming to make these changes and really strive to live a healthier- mental and physical -life this year.

One of things I need to change is blogging.  I would love to write more, but I’m honestly not sure how to go about it.  All of these random ideas on what to write run through my head, but then I know that there are hundreds, if not thousands, of other blogs on those same topics.  So more often than not, I hit a wall and don’t post at all.   I would love to expand and write about things that interest me, but I honestly don’t know what is even appealing.  What would be interesting.  I’m very aware the world doesn’t need another Mommy blog, travel blog, crafting and design blog, homeschooling blog, and on and on and on.  They’re out there by the droves.  So what do I do?

I welcome feedback.  I would love to hear from you in the comments, in a message, in a text, in person; however I can hear ideas, I’m up for it!  And hey, I know part of writing is developing thick skin, so if you feel I’m better off shutting down my laptop and walking away, let me know.  I really would just love to hear feedback.

And while you’re at it, I’d also love to hear your word for 2018.  I’m excited for the things to come and am so thankful that no matter what this new year holds, God is already there.  We can all start fresh knowing He is and will always be in control.

Wishing you a very blessed 2018!

(and don’t forget that feedback!)

 

 

A year.  It’s been almost a year to the day since my last blog post.  I knew it had been a while, but honestly I had no clue it had been THAT long.  Blogging has been something I’ve struggled with, because I am constantly second-guessing myself.  One idea after another will come, then I’ll talk myself out of posting because I am well aware there’s approximately half a million blogs out there that have already covered it and I’m not that special to think my voice is needed or wanted.  I recently had a sweet family member encourage me to give it a go once again, because yes, every voice is different.  Do I think I’m needed or wanted in the blogging world?  Absolutely not.  Writing is simply a creative outlet for me.  A true form of therapy. (and much cheaper!)  If I’m not typing, I’m writing it by hand in a journal.  Since I was eight years old, it’s been an outlet.  I’m not out to change the world.

So why am I sitting here at 1am in the glow of my laptop typing again?  Because this has been on my heart for months. Since March to be exact. I couldn’t quite put it into words until now, as Christmas is just three days away.  My precious Aunt has always said, “You never know what’s behind a smile.”  Such truth in that statement, because we only see what people want us to see.  In the South here, we’re almost trained from birth to greet each other with “Hey, how are you?” and automatically hear, “I’m fine, how are you?” in return.  Most of the time, neither party actually cares if the other is anything but fine.  No one is going to answer that with details of their mental health.   We smile, say we’re fine, and move on.

Very rarely is mental health not a taboo subject, especially in the realm of Christianity.  Why on earth Christians in general are more accepting of addictions than mental illness is beyond me.  Somehow you’re weak and just lack faith or a real relationship with the Lord if you’re depressed or anxious.  I’m speaking in general terms, of course.  I once had a lady tell me that when she tragically lost her child, some Christians rebuked her for seeking counseling and not just ‘trusting the Lord’.  And that’s why Christians get a bad rap.  Trusting the Lord in NO way, shape or form conflicts with seeking help in the form of a therapist.  Or medication.  Or whatever type of help the Lord has provided.

Whatever struggles that your friends and family are going through that they’ve told you about, multiply times ten.  At least.  Because odds are you don’t know even the half of it.  Think of the lives that could be saved if churches today provided support for those struggling with mental health issues.  If the environment was such that people were actually comfortable admitting those struggles.  Telling someone to “Let go and let God” as you pat them on the back and send them on their way is not the answer.

Everyone is different, but personally it makes it even harder on me to know I have to “put on” and suppress whatever is really going on in my life.  Most of 2016 was like that for me.  I could not let on to 99% of the people in my life just what all had been thrown my way.  As a homeschool Mom it made things more difficult, because I had to keep it together in front of my kids and have them actually learn things so Mommy wouldn’t be arrested for truancy.  I had to compartmentalize so I wouldn’t be a total wreck all day, every day.  Of course, I smiled and answered with the obligatory, “I’m fine” anytime I was asked.  But there’s that 1% who knew.  The 1% I could talk to without judgment or having to hear the typical “Christian clichés”.  To know the conversation never leaves the room.  For me, simply talking, (I didn’t care if it was just to a wall) was therapy for me.  The devil thrives on secrecy, and the more you carry something around all by yourself, the more he eats away at you.

Christmas is just three days away.  Yes, it is a beautiful time of year where we celebrate our Savior’s birth and social media is filled to the brim with happy families.  However, Christmas can also be one of the worst times of year for many- not because they don’t appreciate what Christ did-but because they may be grieving the loss of a loved one.  Or just feel alone.  Or aren’t financially able to give like they wanted.  It could be hundreds of different reasons.  More than likely, you’ll never know just how much they’re struggling.  Be the person that people can talk to without fear of judgment.  It’s rare in the Christian world.

Be the person who is encouraging to others.  Be the person who is not naïve enough to believe a smiling person equals a happy person.  Be the person who cares enough to know what’s behind the smile.

Be the person who makes this a better Christmas for someone.

Grace can be such a paradox.  It’s something we often have no problem handing to others yet can’t seem to grant ourselves.  “Give yourself some grace.” is a sentence I’ve been told countless times.  If you’re the type A, perfectionist, OCD-type (aka super-annoying type) like me,  you know it can be nigh on impossible to forgive yourself when you don’t quite measure up.  But the question remains: measuring up to what?  Whose standards are we trying to meet?  Who are we trying to impress?

Now that we’re looking a new year square in the face, we’re being inundated with talk of setting goals, resolutions, changes, and all the joys of the ‘new year, new you’ craze.  More often than not, we set impossible resolutions that will only fall by the wayside come February at the latest.  Life happens.  The wonderful slowness of the holidays leaves, and the busy-ness of our everyday lives takes over right where it left off.

I don’t know about you, but I am more than ready to say, ‘Sayonara!’ to 2016.  Talk about a year of highs and lows.  It was one of those years where the good was great and the bad was awful.  I can honestly say just the last four months have been the most difficult of my life.  If it wasn’t for the grace and hope of Christ, I don’t know where I’d be.  How on earth people make it through difficult times without the Lord, I’ll never know.  It must simply feel hopeless.

So as I’ll be gleefully hanging my new 2017 calendar on the wall come Sunday, I’ll also be thanking the Lord for surviving 2016 and praying for grace in the new year.  Grace.  I love the thought of it.  Less goals, more grace.  For the last few years, I’ve chosen a theme word for the year, and it’s GRACE for 2017.

If I don’t lose the weight? Grace.  If I don’t get caught up on the countless photo books I’m desperately behind on?  Grace. (and Chatbooks- my new favorite!)  If I don’t get everything in the lesson plan finished?  Grace.  If my 3 year old doesn’t potty train?  Grace. Okay, time-out…this one is different, I will go completely insane- I mean he HAS to potty train- he’ll be FOUR in June!  Have mercy, I’ll need to up my meds. But still- GRACE.

I love setting goals.  Probably a little too much.  I never could find a planner I liked, so I made my own- complete with daily and monthly goals.  I realized over time this created a problem.  While everything looked great on paper, I was setting myself up for failure.  I was setting completely unrealistic goals, and not allowing for life to happen.  I was even viewing my children as little obstacles to completing my list. (Mother of the Year material right there!)

I’m trying to find a balance of writing down what absolutely needs to be accomplished and what is too lofty a goal.  I mean, when your child decides to ‘help’ you by changing his own diaper in the middle of the night, thus spreading the love all over his room,(cue freakout) you don’t exactly get to start your day in the solitude of sipping your smoothie while reading.  Let’s just say it puts a damper on the morning.

One thing I’ve decided, and I’ve asked for accountability in sticking to, is clearing my schedule.  2017 will not be the year of busy-ness.  I know some things cannot be helped, but many things can.  Our society thrives on activity, and it’s like Moms wear the constant back and forth as a badge of honor.  I can’t and I don’t.  I will learn to say “no” without the guilt.  My oldest will be 10 this year.(cue another freakout) Time is quickly marching on, and I can’t let life pass me by in a whirl of activity.

I challenge you Moms out there to grant yourselves grace in this new year.  If this isn’t the year you ‘get skinny’, so what?  That number on the scale is not the key to your happiness.  I can promise you your children don’t give a rip what you weigh.  Be their Mom.  Slow down and enjoy the little moments.  Don’t let life pass you by as you try to check off the to-do list and move on to the next thing.  Don’t wish away time.

Fewer goals, more GRACE.

2017 is going to be a blessed year.

Okay I admit it, in the litany of Mommy labels out there, I fall squarely under ‘the crafty one’.  I’m the annoying one who posts the pictures of my kids painting, gluing, making any number of things out of perler beads, or coloring their latest project.  This has invited comments ranging from the sweet yet mistaken, “I wish I had it all together like you” to the sarcastic, “Must be nice to have time for that kind of thing”.  And I’ve also been thrown the “You seem to come across as perfect.” After I stop laughing, (I mean, have you read this blog?  Pretty open book of imperfection here!) I gently correct them.  So I’m here to clear a few things up.

First of all, I enjoy it.  I fall wholeheartedly in the camp of creative people.  Art and everything related to it is my forte.  Thankfully my children enjoy it as well.  I’m careful to not push my interests on them, but what kid doesn’t love to get a little messy with creating things?  In the world of homeschooling, it’s a great way to reinforce a lesson.  They remember things more if there’s an activity to go along with it.  Ask them about Stonehenge and they’ll remember solely because we recreated it out of clay.

But you know what’s not my forte?

EVERYTHING ELSE.

Yep, everything.

You will not find me making organic foods for my family.  I wish I could say we ate mostly the vegetables I grow in our garden, but we don’t have a garden.  And I have a black thumb, so there’s that.  Venison and fish are probably the healthiest things we eat, and those are prepared by the hubby.  Because this Mommy doesn’t have the first clue.  In fact, if there was a prize for feeding your kids the healthiest foods, I’d probably be dead last.  Have you ever had your kids ‘just snack’ for a meal because you were too busy doing other things?  No?

You will not find me following a schedule.  My kids think they’re college students.  They think it’s hilarious to stay up half the night and sleep in.  I guess homeschoolers can get away with that.  Yep, they’ll be doing school well into the afternoon, but it they don’t care, neither do I.  And honestly, this Mommy relishes the morning time to herself.  Oh, I definitely look at other Moms with envy who have their strict nap schedules, bedtime routines, and every activity scheduled and planned out.  I may be halfway sane if we lived by a schedule.

You will not find me spending every precious moment with my kids.  Yes, I’m a stay at home Mom who homeschools, but I’m sure there are mothers who work outside the home who may spend more quality time with their little ones.  I am great at being in their presence without actually being present.  I’ve had one of mine tell me a story that I could not have repeated back to you if my life depended on it.  Have you ever had your child snap her fingers and say “Mommy, did you hear me?  I’m talking to you.”?  Yep.  Just give me my ‘Mother of the Year’ award now.

I realize there’s no such thing as a perfect parent.  I get it.  But I can sure enough tell you I’m as FAR from perfect as can be.  I focus too much on the little things and not enough on the big picture.  Too many days I worry more if my kids’ beds are made and their rooms picked up more than just sitting and listening, enjoying our time together.  I know the saying, ‘The days are long, but the years are short’ is all too true, but actually living in that knowledge is a different story.

As Christmas gets rapidly closer, I’m making the concerted effort to enjoy the moments.  We are finished with school for the semester, so that’s one less thing on the very full plate I seem to carry around.  We do our gingerbread house,(which is made out of plastic by the way- this Mommy does NOT bake gingerbread) paint our traditional crafts and ornaments, and do the advent wreath together.  Children’s crafts are usually the least expensive and most sentimental decorations you can have at Christmas.  I love looking back at the various years and see how their little handprints have changed.

This crafty Mama is confessing to being a failure in every other area.  I think every Mama has their ‘thing’ and no one has it ALL together.  Oh sure, social media may say otherwise, but remember that no one airs it all out on Facebook.  We are seeing the perfectly filtered version of others’ lives, so there’s no need to even compare.  The quickest way to rob ourselves of any of the joys of motherhood is to look on social media for comparisons.

I’m learning to make the time to shut out the constant chatter of to-do lists in my brain to just sit and read a book.  To play a game of kickball. (bonus: cardio!)  To bake cookies.  To simply be present.

So this crafty Mama is left to just trust the Lord to fill in the gaps of my failures with His grace and mercy.  Maybe, just maybe, my children will be okay.

 

 

 

 

 

If you know me at all, you know I love to talk.  I am usually not shy about sharing my opinions and beliefs on various matters.  Silence is especially difficult for me.  My Dad once offered me $5 if I could avoid making nervous small talk and simply sit and wait on a particularly quiet family member to speak.  Needless to say, I didn’t earn the $5.  For anyone that has paid any attention to this little blog of mine, you know that I haven’t posted since March.  8 months.  I hit a wall.  I didn’t know what else to say.  I had plenty I wanted to say, but it was as if the Lord came down and told me to just shut up and get off the blog for the time being.  Amazingly, in that 8 months, He has provided numerous opportunities for me to share my testimony with others and encourage those who’ve doubted just how amazing God’s grace really is.  For the record, I’m far more comfortable writing out my thoughts than verbally sharing them in front of people.  I was notorious for breaking out in head-to-toe hives every time it was my turn to give the oral book report in school.  Speech class in college nearly made me hyperventilate.  Thankfully, it’s gotten better over time, and the Lord has been beyond gracious in helping me be more  comfortable in front of others.

Eight months is a long time.  These 8 months, particularly the last 3, have been some of the most difficult of my entire life.  It’s one of those times that when it hits, you know it’s building your testimony, but that doesn’t make it any easier.  I’m holding on to the faith that one day I’ll be able to share some of these dark times, and point out how God made a way and made me a better person through it.  I’m still in the muck and mire of it now, and that faith is what gives me hope it won’t last forever.

I learned some things about myself in these months.  I learned that I am most definitely not one of those Moms who thrives on constant activity.  You know what I’m talking about.  The Mom whose Instagram feed is filled with the hustle and bustle of running this way and that, with this child playing ball here, that child competing in gymnastics there, and Mom balancing it all seamlessly.  I have a theory about that Mom- either she is one of the rare breeds that really, truly thrives on the constant chaos, or she is drowning and desperately trying to make it all look good on the outside, while knowing there’s no real ‘togetherness’ in the family.  Maybe there’s an in-between.  I don’t know.  I just know that I have learned the hard way that reducing my family’s outside activities is the key to a happier household.  That’s what works for us.  Otherwise, my kids are exhausted, (which I don’t think is something to boast about- I’ve seen it on social media- “My kids are exhausted, but they love it!” No.  Just NO) and they get the added bonus of a stressed out Mom.  That’s a recipe for disaster in my book.

Even extra church activities can add to the chaos and stress.  I know that’s not the “Christian” thing to say, but honestly- you are no less of a Christian for not signing up and agreeing to every little thing that is asked of you.  I may be voted out the tribe for saying that, but I’ll chalk that up to another thing I learned the hard way.   I know all too well what it’s like to overdo my schedule out of guilt, and feeling like ‘well So and So will think less of me if I don’t sign up, so here goes!’, only to completely stress my family out in the process.  I just don’t see where heading something up or organizing some event that will only drag my family down in the days and weeks preceding it is glorifying to the Lord.  My children are my first ministry.  I don’t take that for granted anymore.  I get that some things are necessary, and if everyone abandoned their posts, nothing would happen in the church.  I’m referencing the extra things that we do solely out of guilt, and not out of the Lord’s calling.

I really think more Christians need to learn when to sit down and just be quiet.  Silence can be deafening, yes, but more often than not, it’s necessary to grow and learn.  One side of my family is infamous for how quiet they are.  I’ve joked my entire life that I’m the black sheep because to me, dinner time involves more than counting chews and staring at one another.  But solitude and silence can also lead to a peace like no other.  I think sometimes we’re almost scared to be alone with our thoughts.  Or alone with God.  Almost like we’re afraid of what we’ll find out about ourselves, or what God has to say to us.  What I’m witnessing on social media after this crazy election season proves my theory that sometimes Christians are better off keeping their mouths shut.  I’m not referencing standing firm on the Word of God, I’m talking about antagonistic words that only stir the pot.  It makes it easy to see why others pile all Christians together as ‘intolerant and hateful’.  One can still share Jesus and be a light in the darkness without disparaging words and divisiveness.

Be still.  Some of my favorite words in the book of Psalms are in chapter 46 and verse 10:  “Be still and know that I am God.”  I don’t do the whole ‘being still’ thing very well.  Even if it’s mindlessly scrolling on my phone, I feel the need to constantly be doing something- anything.  I have learned it’s necessary for what’s left of my sanity to force myself to stop and be still.  Silence in a house with three little ones is next to impossible.  Especially when one is a wild, strong-willed, 3 year old boy.  So sometimes it’s necessary to get away, even if it’s locking myself in the bathroom, or getting up at an ungodly hour, just to be still and silent.  It’s amazing how clear one’s mind can become in those precious quiet moments.  And as humbling as it is to admit, I learned the world does indeed continue to function quiet well without me in it trying to control things.

I don’t pretend that I’m changing the world or really making any impact at all with this blog.  I know it’s something the Lord wanted me to do, so if one person continues to read it or one hundred, it’ll be okay.  I have ideas and plans, but am waiting to see what will actually come to fruition.  I’m excited for what lies ahead.  Sometimes sitting down and shutting up can be the best thing to ever happen.

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens…”~Ecclesiastes 3:1                                           I don’t handle change …

Source: Changes

 

“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens…”~Ecclesiastes 3:1

                                         

I don’t handle change well.  Yes, I know it’s inevitable and there’s not a blessed thing I can do about it, but it doesn’t change the fact I freak out a little bit every time something happens.  Oddly enough, I’m almost constantly changing things around the house, painting a piece of furniture or switching out fabrics.  I guess that’s just the artsy side, where one day I walk into a room and think ‘why on earth did I think this looked good?’.  The kind of change I’m referring to takes me away from my little comfort zone.

We’re barely three months into the new year and already several things have changed around our home.  Raise your hand if you’ve shed tears painting your child’s room.  Anyone?  Anyone?  Bueller?  Okay, it’s just me.  Many tears.  I knew the time would come when the mural I lovingly painted in my baby girl’s room would one day be painted over.  The time came last month, and my now almost nine year old definitely had her own ideas of what her room should look like.  Let’s just say we did not share the same vision.  I came to the sobering realization that my baby was old enough to have her own opinions and taste in things, and as long as it was within reason, I should go along with it and keep the process fun for her.  Either she’s going to be an interior designer one day or an interior designer’s pickiest client.

My baby boy moved out of his crib.  For the first time in nine years, there is no crib in our home.  I’m not sure what to make of that.  Because my oldest daughter’s room makeover involved a new bed, her sister inherited hers and they now sleep in their own rooms.  For the longest time, little sister slept on the trundle in big sister’s room.  It wasn’t until the first night after the switch that it hit me what happened.  That season was over.  I may or may not have shed tears while debating upping my anxiety meds, and chocolate may or may not have been consumed.

I’ve revamped my girls’ school curriculum this semester.  I sincerely believe homeschooling Moms who don’t have a teaching degree have an advantage over those of us who do.  I think it’s harder to be flexible to the various out of the box methods homeschooling offers and not just transfer the typical classroom style to your home.  Learning does not have to be limited to being still and quiet behind a desk.  I know I can’t make it all lollipops and rainbows, but I do at least try to make learning fun and enjoyable.  Maybe by the time they’ve graduated, I’ll have figured out how to do it successfully.

It never ceases to amaze me how the Lord works.  I was thrown for a loop when our pastor resigned last month to return to the mission field.  My family loves him and his wife dearly, and selfishly did not want them to leave us.  Little did I know the Lord was preparing my own father to return to the pulpit after years of being in another form of ministry.  So after many years, I’m once again the Preacher’s kid.  That’s a totally appropriate title for a 33 year old Mommy, right?  I enjoy and appreciate it much more now than I did as a child. It’s just incredible how God works and answers prayer.

I’m going to be very honest: I’ve battled spiritually since this year began.  At times, literally feeling like I’m in a cloud of darkness.  I should have been better prepared, as I know full well when you obey the Lord, satan ain’t happy.  I knew without a doubt-for reasons beyond me-that I needed to share my story, my testimony.  It’s not like it’s anything ground-breaking, but the Lord made it clear it needed to be told.  Being out of my comfort zone is putting it mildly.  It’s one thing to share on a public blog for any random soul to read, it’s another to share with a group face to face.  I couldn’t think about either too hard, or I’d end up rocking in a corner mumbling to myself.  I don’t understand it, because I’m definitely not a speaker or a writer, and I don’t have anything spectacular to tell.  I think that’s what kept me from starting this blog two years ago.  What if no one reads it?  Oh well.  It’s not my job to worry about that, I just have to be obedient.  But it’s been rough spiritually and emotionally.  Do you ever feel like everything is just bad?  You don’t really even have a reason to be depressed, but you just can’t shake the feeling of misery?  And yes, I’m already on anxiety meds, but that doesn’t help spiritual issues.  If God is calling for you to change some things or take on a new adventure, be prepared for spiritual warfare.

Things change.  Time marches on.  My children are so eager for time to pass, wanting to be older and bigger.  My 8 year old can’t wait to be a teenager, my 5 year old still thinks she can catch up to big sister, and if you ask my 2 year old his age, he will excitedly tell you he’s 100.  Meanwhile, Mommy just wants to freeze time and halt the inevitable changes- including the forehead wrinkles that seem to be getting worse by the day.

I love how the book of Ecclesiastes describes the passing of time as seasons.  It comes and goes.  There is a time for everything.  I’m just thankful that despite the craziness and constant changes of our world, the Lord is changeless in His love for us.

 

 

So I realized I haven’t written a post in over a month.  I guess I’ve been too busy just being a regular Mommy.  At least that’s what my oldest daughter calls me.  When asked what she wanted to be when she grew up, she said, “Oh I don’t think I’ll have a job or anything, I think I’ll just be a regular ol’ Mommy like you.”  She has since made references to ‘regular Mommy’ many times, and every time I think I have a different reaction.  The first  almost had me in tears.  I took it as she didn’t see me as doing anything of importance, that I was just here at the house with them hanging out all day every day.  What kind of example was I setting if that’s what she thought?  I hammered out questions like this to my poor hubby later that evening, and I was informed I was over-thinking the whole matter.  Imagine that.

I struggle with my role/identity/purpose.  Is being ‘just a regular Mommy’ enough?  I will be the first to say I don’t take for granted the privilege I have to be able to stay home with my children, but it is far from a glamorous job.  It’s not like cleaning up bodily fluids at any given moment is the stuff of dreams.  Okay, let me be clear on something: this is not one of those ‘let me list all the things a stay at home Mom does and how much she should be paid’ posts.  While I appreciate the thought of those, every Mom- whether she’s married, single, working three jobs, staying home, whatever-if she is where the Lord wants her, she’s invaluable.

I recently had the privilege of sharing my testimony with a group of young girls.  One thing we discussed was how we may not do any great things in the world’s eyes, but if we’re in God’s will, whatever we do can be a great thing.  That exhausted Mommy who is up with her crying child for the umpteenth time?  She’s a hero to her little one.  That Mom who works 12 hour shifts only to come home to do laundry, feed her children and fall into bed?  She’s a hero.   Not only are we important to at least one someone, we are important to God.  I just want to grab young girls today, hug them tightly and assure them that their worth is not in their appearance, how many ‘likes’ their pictures get, what boy likes them, or how well they do in school.  They’re all daughters of the One True King, and He made them exactly how He wants them- to fulfill His will.

I realize the irony of being able to preach this to others yet struggling with identity myself.  Maybe it boils down to pride.  Thinking I’m ‘above’ cleaning up the bodily fluids and the not-so-glamorous life.  It’s selfish.  I cannot let my insecurities dictate my self-worth.  It’s amazing the perspective change that occurs when you look at scrubbing toilets as service to your family instead of yet another inconvenience.  Or rocking your crying toddler for the tenth time as precious moments that will fade all too soon, instead of an obstacle on your day’s to-do list.  Of course I don’t know any of this from personal experience- a friend told me.

It’s incredible the war satan wages on the Christian home.  If you’re not having to arm yourself daily, you need to check yourself.  Satan loves (LOVES!) to sneak in and whisper how much greener the grass is on the other side.  You’re not enough, you’re not doing anything important, you really don’t matter.  You’re ‘just a regular Mommy’.  Nothing special.  On the days when my two year old is getting into absolutely everything and throwing fit after fit when things don’t go his way; when I’m running on three hours of sleep; when my girls find it impossible to get along; when the house is a wreck and the laundry seems endless; when the library sends me notice that my book is 3 weeks overdue and I have no clue where the book is; when I seek solace in chocolate rather than the Lord; satan is there and ready for me to crack.  The Bible states clearly that God knew what all the days of my life would hold before I was even a thought here on earth.  He knew what I needed, what my gifts and talents would be, and what my family would need from me.  He created me for a purpose.

For now, that purpose is just being a regular ol’ Mommy.

 

 

 

Can all of us Moms just come together and agree to stop comparing ourselves to others?  And to stop putting others down, just to make ourselves feel a bit better?  Agreed?  Goodness, I remember as a child feeling like I could not wait for adulthood, because being an adult meant no cliques, no ‘mean girls’, no comparisons.  I think we all know I was a delusional child.  High school mean girls don’t hold a candle to what grown women are capable of.  Why do we do this?

I can’t help but think it boils down to the big I word: INSECURITY.  Now as I’ve mentioned before, if you look up ‘insecurity’ in Webster’s Dictionary, my awkward middle school picture is under the definition.  I’m somewhat of an expert on the subject.  I get the low self-esteem thing, I get feeling like you don’t measure up, I get feeling like everyone else out there has it all together except you.  What I don’t get is why some take it out on others.  Why some feel the need to take others down a notch or two so they can hold their heads a bit higher.

Moms are great at this.  Go to any social media site where there’s any discussion of motherhood, and a war of epic proportions will break out at any given time.  Stay at home Mom/working Mom, public school/private school, vaccinate/don’t vaccinate, organic food only/whatever you can afford to feed your kids.  I’m not kidding-you name it, it’s been discussed and taken to the point of “I’m better than you because I do this and you don’t…” on any of these forums.  I make a conscious effort to stay far away from these, even using that blessed ‘hide’ feature, in an effort to control my blood pressure.  It isn’t limited to social media of course, pretty much at any given moment a group of women are together, gossip will be in the air.  Isn’t Mommyhood- or even womanhood- hard enough without us turning on each other?

Of course, our present culture does nothing but fuel this fire.  We are constantly bombarded with the ‘Pinterest perfect’ ideal, and when we fall short-which of course we will because that level of perfection doesn’t exist-we feel like we’re not good enough.  We compare ourselves with so and so, and feel like we’ll never have it together like her. She has the perfect figure, perfect home, perfect husband and children, perfect job, you name it-it’s perfect.  Well…here’s the thing, and take me at my word: you’re that person to someone.

I’m convinced that deep down, we ALL feel insecure.  Obviously, some more than others, but it’s there.  I’ve learned through the years that more often than not, the more ‘perfect’ someone appears, the more insecure they are.  That woman who constantly criticizes others and spreads lies so she appears in a good light?  Truckload of insecurity.

Here’s the thing that I find so freeing and refreshing- our security should rest in Christ ALONE.  As Christians, we are HIS.  He is Who we should be worried about pleasing.  When we make that switch, it’s amazing how the burden is lifted.  When we line up with His will, when we know we have followed His Word, it truly doesn’t matter what else goes on.

This isn’t some rally cry for all Moms to hold hands in a circle and sing “Kumbaya”, as nice as that would be.  I just wish every girl/woman/Mom out there could see herself as the Lord does.  If we did, just think how much heartache we would save ourselves.  How much better our world would be.

Comparison is the thief of joy.  Let’s not allow ourselves to be robbed.

 

“If we had no winter, the spring would not be so pleasant; if we did not sometimes taste of adversity, prosperity would not be so welcome.” -Anne Bradstreet

Mothers know all about seasons of life.  How difficult and endless some can feel, only to look back and realize how fleeting it really was.  I know firsthand just how endless some of those seasons feel- my middle child literally screamed for the first nine months of her life.  This Mama came close to snapping.  I’m on the crazy end of the spectrum as it is, and she nearly knocked me out!  It was the longest year of my life.  However, it’s all kind of faded into memories now and I realize it was just a season.

Motherhood is not glamorous.  Homeschooling certainly isn’t glamorous.  I struggle BIG time with looking for the next season to arrive without enjoying the present.  All I’m really doing is allowing satan to steal my joy.  I read a blog just this morning of a fabulous Mom who is an artist, travels the world, has been featured in both fashion and design magazines, and seemingly has the perfect life.  I had to quit reading because I could literally feel myself becoming more and more envious.  It’s all madness, because I have a wonderful life and I don’t have to look far to see how blessed I am.  It’s just amazing how quickly the grass can look greener somewhere else.

I’m just throwing this out there in an effort to keep it real:  I never in a billion years thought I would homeschool.  I am far from the ‘stereotypical’ homeschool Mom.  My kids are not on a set schedule, I don’t make my own bread, we’re not all natural, we vaccinate, we only have 3 kids, I don’t make my own soap, nor do I even own a denim jumper or skirt.  (before anyone gets offended, I’m saying this tongue in cheek- hence the word ‘stereotypical’.  If you have super long hair and wear a denim jumper- more power to you!)  There are many ways I feel like I don’t fit in with most homeschool Moms.  In my mind- up until a couple of years ago- I truly thought once my kids were of age, I’d happily ship them off to the local school and paint the days away.  That’s why it hit me like a ton of bricks upside the head when the Lord made it clear we were to homeschool.  My little ideas of what my days would hold certainly wouldn’t be for this season.

I see other Moms who work outside the home, juggle multiple children along with all the duties of the household, and do it remarkably well.  My hat is off to them.  I don’t know how they do it, I really, really don’t.  If there’s some secret formula out there that I’m just not privy to, for goodness sakes PLEASE pass it along to me!

Confession: I secretly want a housekeeper.  Not so secretly now, I guess.  Honestly, I’d feel too guilty because what stay at home Mom has a housekeeper?  Turns out plenty do.  I have the inner turmoil of teaching my children responsibilities, being a good steward with money, and thinking how much lower my stress level would be if someone else did the dirty work.

If I could change how anxious a dirty house makes me feel, believe me I would.  There’s no way it’s normal to feel the level of anxiety I do just because the house is messy.  My poor family, bless them.  Other people’s homes don’t make me feel that way, so please don’t cross me off your invite list thinking I’m going to show up ready for an inspection.  I don’t know why I stress about it, it’s not like Southern Living is going to knock on my door and ask for a photo shoot.  It’s the rare days where I just say, “bump it, nothing is getting picked up today”, that the surprise guest shows up.  If you’ve never seen an anxiety attack firsthand, show up on my doorstep unannounced.  I promise I’m trying to get better.  I constantly remind myself that one day, when this season has passed and my kids are older, I will miss the mess.

I recently struggled with wanting to be a travel agent on the side.  That’s one of my dream jobs.  I LOVE to travel, and I’m crazy good at planning.  I prayed and prayed about it.  You know when you pray about something already knowing the Lord is saying ‘not now’, but you keep at it thinking He’ll change His mind?  Is that just me?  I simply don’t have the time with the ages my children are now and homeschooling.  It would be detrimental to the family at this point, as much as I hated to admit it.  And believe me, I hated to admit it.

I struggle with not painting like I want.  I’ve turned down numerous opportunities because of time.  Again, hated to admit it.  The Lord, along with my husband, made it clear that it’s just not meant to be for this season.  It was then that the Lord all but verbally reminded me that I will only have my children here with me for a short time, while the other stuff will always be there waiting when the season is right.

I feel like a horrible mother for not being more thankful for the opportunity I have every day to pour into my children.  Please don’t misunderstand, I’m not trying to throw a pity party and say “woe is me, I sacrifice so much!”  I know how I sound, and I hate it.  I know full well what a privilege and blessing it is that I get to stay home with my children, and most days I enjoy it.  Most days.  It’s the not so enjoyable days where satan creeps in and reminds me of the greener grass.  How much better it will be if the next season would just hurry up and get here.

I think the saying goes, “The days may be long, but the years are short.”  Something like that.  My oldest daughter took great delight in announcing the other day that she only had nine more years of school before she finished high school.  Good grief.  This Mama is on enough meds as it is.  Am I the only Mom out there who plays back things that have happened, wondering if that’s what is going to come up in your child’s future therapy sessions?  Yeah, I’m going out on a limb and saying it’s just me.  Like pretty much anytime I yell at my kids, or they see me cry, I’m mentally tallying up therapy fees.  I feel like I have two main goals for my children: 1) to love and serve the Lord with their whole hearts  2) to not be royally screwed up by their Mom.

So today, I choose to be content in this season the Lord has given me.  Some days it feels like the dead of winter, but my winter is someone else’s spring.  And really, I’m just thankful for God’s grace to get me through it all.