Hey worn out Mama's... sit down. Pause for a moment and look ahead with me. Way ahead past these long days and short years... Are you coming with me? I'm sitting here looking at the day before my first child leaves our home. The day before he launches out into that big world all by himself and leaves not only a room empty in our home, but in my heart too. In the fast pace that life moves, that day will be here probably sooner then later.
That day will come when all our efforts to get our children to the starting line of their new life is our today. It will be just that...just another day. Packing, last meals at home, sibling exchanges, and maybe something special...or maybe something just simple to say here you are, you've made it...both you and I.
My oldest hits double digits in just a few weeks. My youngest is still in her newborn year. And some where in-between all these days with these little ones, I've almost forgotten to look ahead... To see that these days come to an end.
So come sit with me... Breath deep... and what do you see?
I want to see a day that is filled with knowing and trust and confidence and love and purpose. Looking ahead only makes me look back. It's been a beautifully, messy decade being this guys Mama. In the season of firstborn's I've found I am walking ahead blind most days. And when I look to his final day here, I hope I can look back and know I was there. To know we are at the next step in life and while it may be sad for me, it will be a day I've prepared for, trenched through for, and chosen for. A day I've said yes to long before it arrives.
This life wants to move fast. This world wants to make me run a pace that won't let me stay where I am for very long. And as I look ahead I want to know I stayed here as long as I could. Made my minutes count. So I say no. And I say yes. And what I say yes to, means I say no to something or someone else. And when I say no...I say yes even louder to another.
I'm often days a worn out, run the race of parenting Mama. But even in these days, I know they are numbered. I know that day will come when it will be his last here. I want to live today, knowing that when I say yes and when I say no...it will be for what is ahead of us. Oh Mama's, lets choose for tomorrow. Choose what will land us confidently to that last day home with our firsts...our last days with each of them here. Choose to be here today, so that he spends his final day at home knowing he's ready, it's time, it's been a good journey. We're right where we're supposed to be. Let your yes's count for us, count for them...count for a life that is full.
I'm looking ahead hoping that I choose to live today for his tomorrows. A purpose filled life that keeps me in these little moments that mold a life. Many lives. I want to say yes today to his life, so when that final day comes...I can yes to his first day away from my home.
This isn't a say yes to staying home all the time with your children post. This is a say yes to being there, all there when you have the chance. The ways of this world want to distract us and doubt us and demand of us. But lets be Mama's that devote. Say yes to devoting all of ourselves when we are present. Say no to what wants to steal our time. And say yes to being ready for that final day.
Breathe deep... jump back in the rat race of today... and say yes. Yes to today, this moment, these people... for last days will come all too soon. Baby boy's turn 10 and before long we're making final favorite meals and packing up the mini van to move them out... Breathing deep. Saying yes.
Thursday, February 27, 2014
Monday, February 24, 2014
what should I wear?
If you ever wondered if there was someone out to get you, it's true. And if you're lucky...you maybe have experienced a few people out and after your heart. A wooing boy who catches you and becomes your husband. A friend who was relentless to make a connection with you and loves you even after she really knows you. A loving God who created you and wants you to come home. A selfish spirit who wants you for his own evil plans. All of these are true for me. And some days, I'm not careful of who I hand my heart over to.
The battle that happens within is often left unspoken of. But it is one I know is there. I see it when I look at myself, feel it when I breathe, and it follows me...everywhere.
From my first awake minutes of the day and through the hours that build a week and as the pages turn into the new year...I feel the pull between good and evil to chase me down. The battles that fill my heart might not be yours, might wear different clothes...but it is what breaks your soul that gives the one fighting for it a place to sit on your heart.
Mine wears a mask of anxiety. A feeling like nobody hears my gasps for air. That there is no clear road out of the tunnel of fog. That the pages in the book never get written and my life might go on purposeless. A battle between being who I have to be and who I was made to be. A place that leaves me jittery and shaken and unsure.
Maybe you wear something else when you look in the mirror?
If it weren't for the promise I know is true in my heart, my mind would give into the ugliness that wants to cover me. The promise of hope...love...grace. It dresses me up like a girl headed to the ball. I don't always feel like that girl though. Some days the ragged old, worn out, hand me downs get left on me. And as hard as I try to take it off, I can't seem to find anything else to wear. Nobody wants to wear the left-overs everyday. Nobody wants to hand their heart over when they feel ugly.
I try to start small. I slowly replace one piece with another...
Truth to listen to. Space to breathe. Lights to lead the way. A sounding cry. A piece of me written down. Lived out. Wings to fly.
And before long, I have a beautiful attire covering me again. A honest view to live through. When the feelings of anxiety want to dress me, I remind myself that I have some beautiful accessories hanging in my closet. Maybe you do too? Maybe you don't know they are there? Maybe you don't know what they are?
Somebody is always fighting to be there when we look in the mirror and see ourselves. Someone is always out to get me, to get us. I know my heart is being chased after. I'd dress for the occasion, but I don't always realize the chase is on. I live and I do life and sometimes I just find myself wearing the mask of anxiety...again and again. If being clothed in His love for my life would just stay hanging on me, I'd throw the mask away... But I don't always wear what I should.
So for today, I write to say that I have been spoken for. So thank you very much to all those pursuing my heart, but I've given mine away and He has dressed me at this moment to wear the only thing that I seem to forget over and over.... His perfect love. His perfect grace.
And the mask of anxiety comes off... My soul breaks, He fills it this time. He wins. For today.
The battle that happens within is often left unspoken of. But it is one I know is there. I see it when I look at myself, feel it when I breathe, and it follows me...everywhere.
From my first awake minutes of the day and through the hours that build a week and as the pages turn into the new year...I feel the pull between good and evil to chase me down. The battles that fill my heart might not be yours, might wear different clothes...but it is what breaks your soul that gives the one fighting for it a place to sit on your heart.
Mine wears a mask of anxiety. A feeling like nobody hears my gasps for air. That there is no clear road out of the tunnel of fog. That the pages in the book never get written and my life might go on purposeless. A battle between being who I have to be and who I was made to be. A place that leaves me jittery and shaken and unsure.
Maybe you wear something else when you look in the mirror?
If it weren't for the promise I know is true in my heart, my mind would give into the ugliness that wants to cover me. The promise of hope...love...grace. It dresses me up like a girl headed to the ball. I don't always feel like that girl though. Some days the ragged old, worn out, hand me downs get left on me. And as hard as I try to take it off, I can't seem to find anything else to wear. Nobody wants to wear the left-overs everyday. Nobody wants to hand their heart over when they feel ugly.
I try to start small. I slowly replace one piece with another...
Truth to listen to. Space to breathe. Lights to lead the way. A sounding cry. A piece of me written down. Lived out. Wings to fly.
And before long, I have a beautiful attire covering me again. A honest view to live through. When the feelings of anxiety want to dress me, I remind myself that I have some beautiful accessories hanging in my closet. Maybe you do too? Maybe you don't know they are there? Maybe you don't know what they are?
Somebody is always fighting to be there when we look in the mirror and see ourselves. Someone is always out to get me, to get us. I know my heart is being chased after. I'd dress for the occasion, but I don't always realize the chase is on. I live and I do life and sometimes I just find myself wearing the mask of anxiety...again and again. If being clothed in His love for my life would just stay hanging on me, I'd throw the mask away... But I don't always wear what I should.
So for today, I write to say that I have been spoken for. So thank you very much to all those pursuing my heart, but I've given mine away and He has dressed me at this moment to wear the only thing that I seem to forget over and over.... His perfect love. His perfect grace.
And the mask of anxiety comes off... My soul breaks, He fills it this time. He wins. For today.
Thursday, February 6, 2014
jumping into summer
The temperature is a whopping 4 today. That's right. Four. Just one number, one digit, one shivering walk to the end of the driveway to pull my garbage cart back. I piled the layers on and walked fast, sure to skip the step of wondering what I look like while completing the task because when it's a single digit temperature outside nobody cares what you look like. The only caring is if you are staying warm...at least warm enough that not everything hurts while you meet the blast of cold waiting just outside the door. And what else does one think of while facing the bitter cold to conquer the mountainous task of pulling up the garbage cart? Two words. Summer. Sun.
I ran wildly while my ski mask covered my face and my mittens were thick enough the Eskimos could borrow them. I thought about all I put on to finish a job that was necessary. And dreamed about summer. With summer comes putting on a few less layers and double digit temperatures and plenty of pool days. Ahhh, I can't wait for pool days. Can't wait because I am surely not the only one ready to see warmer days... but can't wait because I made a promise that I can't wait to keep.
I wanted to pull a picture up to share, but it is tucked away some place where I can't fetch it. It didn't make Instagram or my facebook status or get tweeted or added to icloud. So I apologize, but it's a picture for only me. It is a picture planted on my heart and one that will stay. In the middle of a hot season and sunny days with warm breezes I spent my time at the pool like many Mama's do, watching their kids splash away the lazy days of summer.
I watched from the side and my heart smiled with all the joy my boys found from the coolness of the pool water. My boys, small and timeless in that very moment. When they caught my eye and asked me to come in, the time seemed to be moving again and I worried too much of what I would look like if I were to join them...instead of what I would feel like when I didn't. I saw them. Really saw them. Big brown eyes, hair slicked back wet from the under water flips, sun shining off their foreheads and tan backs. The deep giggle of my 5 year old and the twinkle in my 9 year olds squinting goggle covered eyes. And they saw me. Not my post-baby thighs or my left-over stomach rolls from 4 kids. Not my not so toned arms or drooping nursing breasts. Just me. Mom. They invited me. begged me even. Come in, jump in. The simplest of me and the whole of me. Slightly covered to hide my insecurities, yet totally naked to the same ones. Afraid of what somebody might see.
With the bitter cold bite of a breeze on my face, I am thinking about that summer day. Thinking that what my heart caught on tape has left a memory that can't be deleted. I finish the cold task of the day, with no care in the world what I look like while I do it. And I dream of summer knowing that this cold day will soon be it's own memory and I'll be staring in the face again of those big brown eyes, a year older...and me, a year wiser. There are not enough days during our children's years to worry too much about what we look like to the rest of the world. It's what we look like in their eyes. I said no once. I won't do it again. So bring on summer already. Not only is it dang cold outside, but I've got a whole new empty file on my heart to fill with my kids on those hot summer days... this time from more then the side. I'm jumping in. The only eyes that matter are the ones who invited me in with them in the first place.
I'm still thawing out from my garbage cart run. Cheers to summer days. And swim suit weather.
I ran wildly while my ski mask covered my face and my mittens were thick enough the Eskimos could borrow them. I thought about all I put on to finish a job that was necessary. And dreamed about summer. With summer comes putting on a few less layers and double digit temperatures and plenty of pool days. Ahhh, I can't wait for pool days. Can't wait because I am surely not the only one ready to see warmer days... but can't wait because I made a promise that I can't wait to keep.
I wanted to pull a picture up to share, but it is tucked away some place where I can't fetch it. It didn't make Instagram or my facebook status or get tweeted or added to icloud. So I apologize, but it's a picture for only me. It is a picture planted on my heart and one that will stay. In the middle of a hot season and sunny days with warm breezes I spent my time at the pool like many Mama's do, watching their kids splash away the lazy days of summer.
I watched from the side and my heart smiled with all the joy my boys found from the coolness of the pool water. My boys, small and timeless in that very moment. When they caught my eye and asked me to come in, the time seemed to be moving again and I worried too much of what I would look like if I were to join them...instead of what I would feel like when I didn't. I saw them. Really saw them. Big brown eyes, hair slicked back wet from the under water flips, sun shining off their foreheads and tan backs. The deep giggle of my 5 year old and the twinkle in my 9 year olds squinting goggle covered eyes. And they saw me. Not my post-baby thighs or my left-over stomach rolls from 4 kids. Not my not so toned arms or drooping nursing breasts. Just me. Mom. They invited me. begged me even. Come in, jump in. The simplest of me and the whole of me. Slightly covered to hide my insecurities, yet totally naked to the same ones. Afraid of what somebody might see.
With the bitter cold bite of a breeze on my face, I am thinking about that summer day. Thinking that what my heart caught on tape has left a memory that can't be deleted. I finish the cold task of the day, with no care in the world what I look like while I do it. And I dream of summer knowing that this cold day will soon be it's own memory and I'll be staring in the face again of those big brown eyes, a year older...and me, a year wiser. There are not enough days during our children's years to worry too much about what we look like to the rest of the world. It's what we look like in their eyes. I said no once. I won't do it again. So bring on summer already. Not only is it dang cold outside, but I've got a whole new empty file on my heart to fill with my kids on those hot summer days... this time from more then the side. I'm jumping in. The only eyes that matter are the ones who invited me in with them in the first place.
I'm still thawing out from my garbage cart run. Cheers to summer days. And swim suit weather.
Are we there yet?
Friday, January 31, 2014
left-over love
All week I've been following Compassion bloggers as they traveled to Uganda to meet sponsored children, connect with their organization across the globe, and bring awareness to fighting the need for helping so many little ones all across the world. Sponsors did everything from laugh to cry to smile to hug to shake hands to handing over all their emotions in one greeting... In one small moment, they let love steal the show, and just reacted to the hands and faces they have written letters to and supported financially for months and years on end. In all those small deposits made out of their bank accounts and all those hand written notes mailed miles away to each other...they finally met in a place where love had more then a name on a picture, but a face. A warm set of hands. A big wide grin peeking up through awkward first glances.
What was left...a lot of love. For the child, for the place, for the journey. If you think sponsoring a child is an empty cause... just ask a person who has made the rare trip to meet their chosen one.
Some times, there is a child we never meet. A child we learn to love from the very start of meeting, but never really get to hold. Does it mean that love doesn't exist? Or never happens? I don't think so. The journey to love a new child is always different for each beating heart. But love is recognized no matter what continent you find yourself on.
Between my children are a couple more I never met. At least not in person. While learning to love a new creation and making room in my heart for one more, I also learned to say goodbye. It's hard to look at the beautiful pictures of the smiling faces of all those innocent young ones miles away from me in Uganda. Hard because I know the truth. That deep inside those smiling faces is a little soul that started days before they arrived in the place they now grow up in. They were very uniquely knit together, in their mothers womb, with a great purpose. They started small and tiny and their value comes from being enough in His eyes. Fearfully and wonderfully made. Their mothers held them. Love them. Maybe we could too?
These children we never meet, still take some of our heart. Whether it is the child you held for only a brief moment as he left your safe little womb too early of an arrival... too late to not take a piece of your heart. Or a child you see across a screen and know you have some love left to share. To help another mother. When I realized I had already loved a little life that I would never really hold here, I felt my love for a child was still there. Empty arms, but a full heart. So I found Rebecca. Rebecca was born to another woman miles away from me and chances are we may never, ever meet. I may never know what she really looks like when she greets me or how she laughs or if she smiles much. But I know she is loved. When I had a lot of love left-over, I decided to give her some of it. To use it for good. Little did I know how much loving her a little, would teach me to love even more.
For many years now we have sponsored Rebecca. Her letters come and my growing boys know her face. Hear her written words. See that we are making room to send some love to someone just as uniquely woven together as them. It changes lives really... hers, ours. And all because I had some left-over love that needed a place to go. Sharing love, wearing love... it makes saying hello and saying goodbye that much sweeter.
What was left...a lot of love. For the child, for the place, for the journey. If you think sponsoring a child is an empty cause... just ask a person who has made the rare trip to meet their chosen one.
Some times, there is a child we never meet. A child we learn to love from the very start of meeting, but never really get to hold. Does it mean that love doesn't exist? Or never happens? I don't think so. The journey to love a new child is always different for each beating heart. But love is recognized no matter what continent you find yourself on.
Between my children are a couple more I never met. At least not in person. While learning to love a new creation and making room in my heart for one more, I also learned to say goodbye. It's hard to look at the beautiful pictures of the smiling faces of all those innocent young ones miles away from me in Uganda. Hard because I know the truth. That deep inside those smiling faces is a little soul that started days before they arrived in the place they now grow up in. They were very uniquely knit together, in their mothers womb, with a great purpose. They started small and tiny and their value comes from being enough in His eyes. Fearfully and wonderfully made. Their mothers held them. Love them. Maybe we could too?
These children we never meet, still take some of our heart. Whether it is the child you held for only a brief moment as he left your safe little womb too early of an arrival... too late to not take a piece of your heart. Or a child you see across a screen and know you have some love left to share. To help another mother. When I realized I had already loved a little life that I would never really hold here, I felt my love for a child was still there. Empty arms, but a full heart. So I found Rebecca. Rebecca was born to another woman miles away from me and chances are we may never, ever meet. I may never know what she really looks like when she greets me or how she laughs or if she smiles much. But I know she is loved. When I had a lot of love left-over, I decided to give her some of it. To use it for good. Little did I know how much loving her a little, would teach me to love even more.
For many years now we have sponsored Rebecca. Her letters come and my growing boys know her face. Hear her written words. See that we are making room to send some love to someone just as uniquely woven together as them. It changes lives really... hers, ours. And all because I had some left-over love that needed a place to go. Sharing love, wearing love... it makes saying hello and saying goodbye that much sweeter.
Might you have some left-over love for another one today?
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Tuesday, January 28, 2014
perspective came today
We've spent the day doing what I like to call "kidcation". Aka: vacation with all four of our kids. It's a little different from vacation, but just as important and memory making. We come back to the Dells every winter, alongside my hubs sister and her family. We swim, slide, and sleep the week away. And never once have I thought much about our source of entertainment. But today I started my (very) early morning (hence, kidcation...not vacation) seeing the sponsor of a child hold his sponsored child's hand and carry her water for her. I saw the small case of drinking water for her day and thought about the abundance of water that we would spend the day playing in. Perspective sometimes hits hard.
A little truth moment...in Uganda, the inadequate water supply has people collecting contaminated water from the streets when it is raining, and from rivers and springs that surround the camps, leading to an increase of water-related illnesses. The lack of safe drinking water leads to various diseases...some that end in death. Perspective,hits again...
We swam away most of the morning. It was wonderful and fun and memory making. But I couldn't help but notice the running water moving all around us. I started counting. I count my gifts these days and how fresh, clean PLAYING water hadn't made the list yet is humbling to me. Perspective keeps coming.
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When we came back to our room I drank clean, cold water right out of the fridge door. I know the health benefits of drinking my water every day. I consciously make sure I get my 60-80 ounces in every day. I fill my kids water bottles up and send them off to school with a supply of the liquid that keeps them healthy and moving and their body clean. Clean drinking water. Could I go without it? What would I do to get it? Perspective sends another wave.
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| (photo by Mike Varel, Compassion Blogger trip to Uganda) |
And if anyone gives even a cup of cold water to one of these little ones who is my disciple, truly I tell you, that person will certainly not lose their reward. Matthew 10:42
Monday, January 27, 2014
Uganda & the Wisconsin Dells?
I am super new to following along with Compassion. As in this is my first gig, kind of new. How fun to join the Compassion blogging team just as they fly off to their 5th anniversary trip...to Uganda this year! Having kids old enough to understand that there is another world of people some where else is beautiful. We're comfortably sitting in a 4 bedroom presidential suite (my hubby's latest ebay gem of a find) in the heart of the well visited Wisconsin Dells...while Compassion bloggers have just landed in Uganda and are probably anything but comfortable. This is where I love technology. From our family vacation, I can keep a real perspective on life as we follow along in a place very different from ours.
So, as my kids first asked...Where in the world is UGANDA? Well, right here kids...
We will be following along here, at this blog. And you can come back my blog for a recap, too. They have an amazing photographer, Mike Varel. And I will be posting on pinterest, twitter, and facebook. Chances are you might find me cheering Compassion on this week!
We've sponsored Rebecca from Mozambique, Africa for many years. I'd love to share our experience with you about that for our family. And if you feel led to sponsor a child of your own... Uganda is a great place to link arms with....just click over here to Compassion to do so.
For today though, we now know for sure where Uganda is. Starting there is a great beginning...
Wednesday, January 22, 2014
compassion
So it is no surprise that I love kids...and if it is, then we must be strangers. And my heart beats big for kids in places that can't be taken care of. I used to plug into Food for the Hungry a bunch. A great ministry serving all around the world and truly changing lives. I love FFH. Our church still partners with them and we sponsor a child through them. My kids write to Rebecca and over the years they have seen her grow from a little girl to a teenager still trying to get through school and keep her younger siblings fed in Africa. The relationship between a sponsored child and her sponsors is so very special, and so very life changing.
I knew after a couple kids of my own here though, that I would need to hand over the details of organizing child sponsorship at our church. At the time we had over 200 kids sponsored and as my plate grew at home I knew my hands could not serve both my family and these kids and their sponsor families well. I handed over the reigns with a little bit of a heavy heart. Luckily, the Food for the Hungry details went into one of my best friend's hands and she also has a huge heart for the same cause and does a better job with it then I ever did. God takes care of things so well when we let Him lead our actions.
While my own home has doubled in numbers since those earlier days with FFH, my heart has still been drawn deeply to kids all around the world. My sister in law clued me in on an opportunity to blog for Compassion. It took me opening the email, reading the requirements, and a quick prayer as I linked over to the Compassion website to know this was a perfect match for me. I had goose-bumps, tears, and the instant knowing that this was something I could do in this season. No, I do not get paid. No, I do not get free anything. I simply get to bring awareness to a place that needs attention and to people who could make a difference in a child's life. Maybe that's you?
So in the coming months you will from time to time see me writing about what Compassion is doing around the world. I hope you'll join me in praying for this ministry and maybe even sponsor a child. It's a great place to send some of your resources and get a small, tiny glimpse of what is happening across your world. I may be home these days, and yes, my hands may be extremely full. But my heart is fuller with the season of life I am in and the kids Compassion is helping has a spot all of its own.
I knew after a couple kids of my own here though, that I would need to hand over the details of organizing child sponsorship at our church. At the time we had over 200 kids sponsored and as my plate grew at home I knew my hands could not serve both my family and these kids and their sponsor families well. I handed over the reigns with a little bit of a heavy heart. Luckily, the Food for the Hungry details went into one of my best friend's hands and she also has a huge heart for the same cause and does a better job with it then I ever did. God takes care of things so well when we let Him lead our actions.
While my own home has doubled in numbers since those earlier days with FFH, my heart has still been drawn deeply to kids all around the world. My sister in law clued me in on an opportunity to blog for Compassion. It took me opening the email, reading the requirements, and a quick prayer as I linked over to the Compassion website to know this was a perfect match for me. I had goose-bumps, tears, and the instant knowing that this was something I could do in this season. No, I do not get paid. No, I do not get free anything. I simply get to bring awareness to a place that needs attention and to people who could make a difference in a child's life. Maybe that's you?
So in the coming months you will from time to time see me writing about what Compassion is doing around the world. I hope you'll join me in praying for this ministry and maybe even sponsor a child. It's a great place to send some of your resources and get a small, tiny glimpse of what is happening across your world. I may be home these days, and yes, my hands may be extremely full. But my heart is fuller with the season of life I am in and the kids Compassion is helping has a spot all of its own.
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