Support

As I entered the adult world, I had been given all the tools to be a successful career woman.  I had gone to a rigorous college, been given a honors scholarship, enrolled in an exclusive honors program with one on one access to the top professors, done internships in my chosen area, completed a master's level of education, worked for years in the field, with great success.  I was very prepared for professional work.

Yet when this tiny little child took my heart away, it became apparent that nothing in this world I could do would compare with the impact I could have on this little life.

My father had always told me, "do the thing that no one else can do but you."  And it became apparent that no one else could be the mother to my baby and create a home life for my family other than me.  I was thrilled at the prospect.

However, I had not been groomed for this new role, I had not been handed the tools to take this role up seamlessly, and I needed help.  It came from some amazing places.

A dear friend, 7 years younger than me, showed up at the hospital with diapers and an outfit.  I had not even realized I would be needing these things.  But sure enough, they were the exact thing for that exact moment that were most imperative.  My daughter left the hospital dressed and dry.

I continued to follow this sweet woman into her home, getting together with her as often as she would have me.  She already had two children of her own, and her home was everything mine wasn't and mine needed to be.

T. let me in her home two or three times a week.  She always was cooking and cleaning, though she did not require that her house be perfect to let me in.  Far from it, she allowed me to see it messy, see the children in various stages of ready for the day, and watch as she negotiated breast feeding, meal prep, decorating, sewing, gardening, and child development activities.  Her home was a bustle of activity, and so very alive. I took copious notes, and still am imitating her well loved home.

Her home was alive; with her artistic and gentle heart at the middle of it.

From her, I learned to make a chicken, make salads with every meal, draw and sit with the children, create a home that is inspiring, have a garden of herbs, to breast feed, and to nap my children.  Yes, you heard it, nap.

At the time, I was still just letting my little daughter dictate when she wanted to sleep.  One day, as I was sitting with her in my arms, my dear friend T. noted, "You know, she will be a much less grumpy child if you lay her down for regular naps, BEFORE she starts to get sleepy".

Ahh, the years of peace in my home this one timely advice has given me and my family.  I asked her to write down a sleep/wake schedule, which she penciled on the back of an envelop from my purse.  I went home, tacked that little crumpled piece of paper to my wall, and began meticulously following it.

I have been a big advocate of regular naps ever since. And my children nap regularly and are grumpy no more, and all thanks to my friend T.

As I reflect on what has made me the mother I am today, I realize solid friends are at the core of much of my successes.

For the friendship to be a gleaning one, I must have a teachable spirit in me.  I must be willing to open up and allow kind individuals into my life who are one, two or even ten years ahead of me in motherhood.

And second, for it to be a grace filled one, the friend must be an unconditionally accepting one, willing to come over to my house, and have me in their home.  A person willing to give me their time, allow me access to them even in their imperfections.  One who can observe my life, give me tidbits of input, and be a great example of motherhood to me.

Where are you needing to open up your life to  another, so you can glean from them?

Where are you needing to pursue a friend who needs a good example and a grace filled friendship?

It will make all the difference in the world.

Oil and perfume make the heart glad,
         So a man's counsel is sweet to his friend. -Proverbs 27:9

Daily

Sometimes it is depressing, how poor of a cook I am.  I will plan a meal, and not get the right groceries, buy the groceries and let them go bad in the fridge, cut the veggies and then burn them, put the meat to the pan only to have it come out under cooked.  It is embarrassing, and true.  My dear family can recount  the meals through which they have suffered.

For starters, as I child, I was not given the opportunity to help prepare every dinner or shown how a meal magically makes it to the table (home or restaurant or take out).

A tragedy really, as people do need to eat: 3 times a day.  And I have lots of little people in my house who are counting on me to make that happen.

Another area where I really lacked skills, was in child rearing. I was in love with my little ones the moment they were handed to me, especially if you define love as protective; these babies were not going to get hurt or lack under my watch.

But the actual needs of the child were beyond me: the need to be changed when wet, bathed when dirty, teeth brushed twice a day, hair combed into beautiful plaits.  I soon discovered that when babies cry, they needed to be held, comforted, rocked.  As two of my four developed colic, it meant they need to be held constantly, continuously patted, always moved about.

Also imperative was the need to give boundaries. It was imperative for me to to follow up on those boundaries.  I could not let my child cross a boundary with out an immediate consequence.

If they whined, I had to tell them to cheerfully voice their request.  If they asked after being told no, I had to tell them no was not to be questioned.  If they hit, I had to hold the brandishing arm and shush the angry spirit.  If they were headed to the ground to thrash their bodies about in protest, my firm hand had to be there to guide their bodies upward and their faces to mine.  If they took without asking, I had to remind them no deed goes unnoticed.

It was enough to push a patient person to the brink, and I was not a patient person - by any stretch of the imagination.

I think if there had been any way around it, I would have gone there.  But there was no way around it.

We had no family in town to help, no cheerful mentor mom to pop over with guidance, no money to pay a babysitter, no extra income to hire help, and my husband was a full time student and a full time employee.  Yep, I was stuck with the job of feeding and raising the children; it was up to me.

So, like many a good woman of yore, I cried out to God.

"Oh, woe is me, Lord. [interject whiny voice here] I am a stranger in a strange land and these children need a mother but I am sorely poised for the task. [convincing Him this is not possible for me]  Show me the way out of this mess Lord [and here I show him the obvious solution], give me a friend, a mentor mom, or rain down the money so I can hire help.  Just have my husband come home and do it for me,[see, four easy steps] oh Lord, hear me now![notice the helpful biblical tone]"

Needless to say, God's was pretty much mute on the subject.  And it took me a few years to fully understand why.

As it turns out (and you, my dear reader, have already probably noted) I was asking God and man to do my work for me.  And though our Lord is the Lord of the Sabbath, he also made 6 days of work, and saw it as good.

There are different types of work.  I find the most important work is often not attached to a salary.

So, I had to get to work.  I had to get off my pity party to do it; and I had so enjoyed my little pity party.

Here I was, pressed with no choice but to avail.  I had to cook 3 healthy meals a day and these children had to be raised, and raised well.

It was then that God began to show me that every journey begins with a foot step, every plant starts as a seed, and that life could not be rushed into being.

So began my dailies.

I had to daily ask the Lord for help, then daily stand on my own two feet, then daily walk into the bathroom with cheer, while I daily brushed 4 sets of teeth and bathed 4 sets of bodies.  Next, I daily boiled a pot of water, while I daily added whole grain oatmeal, and then daily handed out bowls to be set at the table. I daily watched over behaviors and attitudes, as I daily read the Bible aloud, and daily help the children draw.  I  daily read a quality book aloud, then daily set the children up for puzzle time, while I daily sat and had my quiet time.

Though my rhythm varies during the week, and development changes in the children's capacities calls for adjustments, this has become the way I approach cooking and child rearing.  Surprisingly, it works.

It is a slow, disciplined way to bring about great, exciting results.

My patience has increased as I see life as a set of dailies.  My cooking has improved to the point that 3 out of 4 meals turn out edible!   My children have become quite enjoyable to one another and to me. And, I really like my work.  I wake up with something purposeful to put my hand to, that of improving my life and the lives of husband and children.

It has given me a sense of joy that my pity parties never did.

What are your dailies?  Where can you begin to work today?

"They that sow in tears shall reap in joy. He that goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come again with rejoicing, bringing his sheaves with him." Psalms 126:5

Imitators

Walking on the beach one day, it became apparent that no matter where I went, my daughter did as well.  When I ran toward the waves, giggling with delight, so did she.

When I walked slowly and talked of the beauty before us, she slowed down to experience it with me.  She never ran ahead, only waited to see where I would go, and then she walked confidently after me.

It struck me then, I had a little disciple on my hands, and she was following me without even thinking there might be another way.

It is hard to think ill of ourselves, in the deepest sense.


If you ask us, we might mention feeling too small for a big task or insignificant in the eyes of others or ashamed of our own shortcomings and sin.  But, if you were to catch us on an average day and investigate how we are moving forward, usually we are permissive with ourselves and have excuses for our negative thoughts, emotions, and actions.

God planned it well to give us these little imitators whose daily living tell the real story.

Little ducks, learn to walk, swim, and eat by following their mother everywhere and imitating her ways; so too our children are built to bond with their mother, follow her everywhere, and imitate her ways.  And this is the rub: our ways are not always as exemplary as they could be.

So what is a mother to do? 

We must become worthy of imitation.

We must find God, as Saint Augustine spoke, by seeking him within.

Evaluate values: are we concerned with the things of the soul or with outward signs of importance?  Revisit free time: are we occupying ourselves with things that build up or things that tear down; are we balancing rest and work, over working, or just zoning out through life? Look upon manner: are we gentle and hopeful of speech, or harsh and despairing, are we jovial or cynical, merry or mocking?  Think upon method: are we seeking always to serve or seeking to be served, do we ask ourselves “how can I help” or “who is here to help me”, do we deny ourselves or force our way? Do we live intentionally after God or do we only pretend to be after Him?

The areas of my life that were all about me, or allowable without children, were no longer going to be enough.  I was raising little ones to follow in my footsteps.

It is not enough to say I am sorry for my imperfections, but repentance must be firmly resolved as well.  It is not enough to pray for my sins to be gone, I must be willing to be humbled in my view of myself to truly eradicate them.  It is not enough to note what is wrong; I must be willing to change.

Sometimes I have to ask for for help, go to a trusted counselor, and walk through the problem areas in my life and hear how growth is possible.  Sometimes I have to be really honest with myself, how I am making excuses, thinking thoughts of self-centeredness, allowing emotional indulgences that lead to a sentimental life, or wishing for a life in which I am not willing to do the hard work.  And much of the time, when I have fully dedicated myself to Him, the grace of God fills up the holes without much effort from me.  This always amazes me, and leaves me so thankful for God’s mercy.

In what ways do you need to reevaluate your life?  What parts of yourself are you seeing reflected in your children’s poor attitudes and troubling tendencies?  Where might you need to center yourself on  Jesus ways and be so in your home and to your family? 

Know that there is grace, and even as you bravely confess the truths of your life, God rushes in.  He is a gentle guide toward all things good and right and true; his beauty can be yours also.  Know that as you imitate and walk in his ways, you bless your children with a mom who is worthy of imitation.

“Therefore be imitators of God, as beloved children.  And walk in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us, a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.” –Ephesians 5:1, 2

A tough day

Today started out sadly.  A good friend knocked on my door to say goodbye.  We sat in the living room while she nursed her sweet little guy, the children wowed her with their little nothings, we found a moment to reflect.  And I blessed her, and I cried, and then she was gone.

They are off to an easier place to live, with more land, lower housing prices, and greater opportunities for work; a place where family is just a few blocks away and having a mother stay home with her children is not a financial sacrifice.

This evening finished off with a bon voyage party for another good friend.  We played in the park, ate delicious food brought from various homes, talked about the weather, listened to the children laugh, and then we hugged goodbye.  And then they will be gone.

Again, they go to a place where jobs are plentiful, housing is cheaper, and family is close.  Where friends stay home in mass, and so see each other often, and children can be given space to grow.  I blessed her, and disheartened, walked away.

In between, I brought my sweet little dog with us to run errands so she wouldn't be home without us, and someone yelled at me for leaving her in the car for a moment.  They called the police, they called security, they called the SPCA.  No one came to honor their requests, but they were angry, and they felt I need to know their anger. It was a neighborhood known to be unfriendly, and it is the neighborhood I must often shop in, as it is so close.

The tough little boys who make up our soccer league mocked my son because his ball was purple, and he said it hurt his feelings to hear this greivance.  And I felt greived.

The city was a hostile place for me today.  And I wondered why we chose to live in it.

Some days, it is hard to live in the city.  Today was particularly so.

Why do we?  Why are our children raised in an urban hub, with constant noise of traffic, with throngs of people occupying every space?  Why do we live in a place that often sees friends move on to quieter lands with better economies?  It can be so very lonely, and so very pressed with people.


"The Kingdom of heaven suffers violence and violent men take it by force." -Matthew 11:12


My husband and I don't live here by accident.

We live here on purpose.

There is a desire in our hearts to see Jesus known in this city, for people here to be ushered into his lifegiving presence, to have meaning restored to their lives, to let them walk away from rebellion and submit to the greatest King, our Lord. We have felt this call on our lives, and we have tried to live faithfully to it.

The devil seeks to destroy life, and he particularly rankles at those who are life givers.  My family, my heart, my vision for why we are here, are prime targets for his deadly arrows.

So when sad days come, when the temptation is to join the great exodus, when the hostility of the city is pressing in on me, I must redouble my commitment.  Christ's heart for those in the city must become my mantle piece.  The fervor and zeal that brought me here in the first place, must be front and center in my heart.  And from there I can resist the arrows of the enemy.

From there I can rejoice that my children are seeing parents who have a deep sense of mission and purpose to their lives.  They can see how struggles do not define us, but refine us.  And in the future, they can choose to do the same.

May the days that are hard, that are sad times, that include the difficulty of existing in this yet redeemed world be yours to grab a hold of the kingdom of God ever tighter, with all of your volition charged for the task.  And may your children be inspired by the faith they find in their home.

Innocence

"While reading Louisa May Alcott's book Little Men to the children during lunch, my daughter insightfully comments on the character Daisy.

"Mom"she says "this must have been at the time when children were allowed to be young."

"Tell me more about that sweetheart."

"Well, Daisy is 12 and she can still play with dolls and her Aunt likes to read her stories.  It is not like today, where every one is in such a hurry to grow the children up, and want them to talk about the news and worry about adult things." she quips.

My heart broke listening to her insight that the window is so short for childhood.

And it is getting shorter.

Have you noticed the pressure placed on our children in today's fast paced society?

Children are expected at a very young age to understand complex adult situations, politics, world concerns, and national crises.  They are entertained with media of disturbing images, coquettish relational dynamics, and child characters burdened by the world on their shoulders.  Children are dressed as little adults, and not exactly modestly clad. They are abandoned to peer groups while expected to negotiate those relations bereft of adult guidance and direction.

Free play is often removed because of the anxiety for children to excel at younger and younger ages.  The average 3-6 year old has scant few hours in the day to dig a hole, climb a tree, sit in a swing, sing, dance in circles, build with blocks, day dream on a couch, dress up as their favorite book character, or roll around in the grass.

The average 7-12 year old has no time for such childish pursuits.

What is the solution?  What can we do about this?  How can we reverse these trends in our own families?

It is very complicated.  And yet, we can start with something simple.  A dose of patience.

Seems simple, but as I try it myself, I find it very challenging.

If we could meditate on the fact that our children very soon will be older.  If we can just believe that there will come the day for that life stage.  Then, we can rest in that knowledge.

If we can realize, they will never again be children, that the innocence of their age will quickly pass, we will become advocates of an unhurried childhood.  We can engage this life stage with a focus vigilance against anything that would seek to destroy it.

We can slow down, and let them be children.

Then, when they are older, when they are ready, they can jump into the adult stage with joy.  Having fully realized their childhood, they can become adults unimpeded and with gusto. Having waited for the season of friendships, world pursuits and adult problems, they will find themselves anxious to get started on their maturing.

Can you try with  me to slow down and give your children the childhood they so long for?  Can we, together, find patience and trust in God's timing to guide your way?

May we all be able to see, when we look back on our children's first years, a childhood.

"When I was a child, I talked like a child, I thought like a child, I reasoned like a child. When became a man, I put childish ways behind me" -1 Corinthians 13:11

Little Moments

There are great moments in our lives.  The moment we begin to realize we are independent from others, free to make our own choices.  The moment we experience what desperate sinners we are, and in that same glance, how overpoweringly Jesus' gift to us is with his unconditional love.  The moment we hold our lovers' hand, walking down the aisle, into a future of companionship and mission. The moment we first hold our precious child in our arms, still warm from the womb, and cradle them near our breasts, and just cry and cry with gratitude that God would deem us worthy of raising up a little life.

And then, there is the rest of our lives.

The moments we don't count, or court, or notice are the ones that really make up our days.  They are the ones, that in the end, really matter.

And I find, it is in the later not the former, that I must live out my spiritual development.

Can I submit to God when he asks me to put down my book and watch my son build his newest block creation?  Can I sacrifice time of talking with a friend to listen to my daughter's thoughts on why her dolls should be arranged in the manner they are?  Can I patiently let the children help me stir the food on the stove, carefully rinse and cut the vegetables, and describe to them the step by step process of what we are making?  Will I spend my afternoon reading aloud or micro-cleaning the floors?  Can I find the courage to face the hard work of walking the children through yet another sibling squabble?

The submission, the patience, the courage, the diligence, the listening, are all part of the call of being a mother.  Yet, each time these moments arrive, there is a small choice.  Should I rush ahead with my busy schedule or slow down and be the mother in each of those little moments.

It matters.

Thank God for the Holy Spirit.  There is such a dependency on Him as a counselor, guide, and encourager in those moments for me.  Often my prayer is, "Sharpen my character here, Lord.  Guide me to thy way everlasting and not my way - ever exasperating.  Help me to see You in this moment.  Give me grace to let my four year old measure the 1/4 teaspoon of salt with out growing peevish about how much winds up on the floor."

When I do remember to pray, and when I do listen to His guidance and not my own, I often find those moments become easier, and well, down right fun!  I can feel my shoulders relaxing, can hear myself laughing, and the sight of my four children noticing the change is - priceless.

So, here is to more moments of spiritual depth.  And as the great moments come in life, my character with its spiritual depth intact, will be so much more able to enjoy them.

And I encourage you as well, fellow travels on the road of life.  Take the moments, the little insignificant ones.  Allow God to shape you into his form in those times, and you will add up, to someone great!

And endurance (fortitude) develops maturity of character (approved faith and tried integrity). And character [of this sort] produces [the habit of] joyful and confident hope of eternal salvation. Romans 5:4

Thankful

Today is my weekly count my blessing day.  Here are some things that make me extremely thankful.

I am thankful for my washer, dryer, and press iron.

    Where would I be without the ability to wash, dry, and press so simply?  Just imagine boiling the water, scrubbing on the board, and hanging out to dry all of our shirts, pants, skirts, napkins, tablecloths, towels, sheets, and assundries.  Starting the fire up, warming the iron, and starching out the clothes.  All, with children underfoot.  What amazing additions to life are my automated cleaning tools!

I am thankful for my husband.

     Husbands are such a precious gift. Once you have one, there are so many little conversations daily, so many tiny ways of serving and building up needed to maintain said husband.  There are times I have to look above the moment and remember all of my own flaws in order to redirect my perspective toward him.

     When I stop to consider this amazing love of a man, my husband, this sweet gift of a man, who loves me, who listens to me,  who comes home to me, who picks up our children and wrestles them, plays with them, teaches them to use power tools.  I am so very very thankful for him.

     Poor hubbie, he might have gotten my first fruits of thanks.  Somehow, his delicious presence in our home is one I often must stop and be thankful for, how can such beautiful people be overlooked so easily?

Thanks be to God he is my dear one.  He is here, despite all the ways I often don't add up a wife worthy of praise.  I am so very grateful for him!

Now, our God, we give you thanks, and praise your glorious name. - 1 Chronicles 29:13