The Heart of This Boy

Rather abruptly at lunch yesterday, Lucas announced that he really wants a sister. But not a baby sister "from my tummy." He wants us to adopt a sister that is closer to his age so he has someone to play with. He said he had been "really thinking about this." I could see it on his face. He was very serious and thoughtful. It was not a whim discussion. And although his comments caught me off guard, they did not catch me by surprise.

He has said before that he would like a sister, but has never been so specific about adoption and wanting an older girl to join our family. I know that part of this adoption idea being sparked in his head comes from asking about a book I just finished that tells the story of a family's adoption journey. But it wasn't like he was borrowing an idea. It was more that one had been uncovered and he now had words for it.

His words were both tender and funny. He has figured out where "our girl" would sleep and sit in the car and at our table. He has an idea of what her name should be but he's not ready to share that yet. The longer we talked about it, the more he wanted to say. It was as if he could picture it more and more and couldn't contain how much he would love if it all actually came to be. I kept asking why he thought he wanted a sister, specifically one his age. After saying "I just do" about a dozen times, he finally got quiet.

"Sometimes, I just feel like I don't want to be the oldest. Like if my brother were here, I would have someone to be with me." My heart stopped for a moment. There it is. The root of this is a longing that I totally get. I feel it with him, I just didn't know he felt it like this. He misses his brother.

When asked why missing Micah makes him want to have a sister and not an older brother, his reply brought some much needed tension release to the moment. Pointing at Caden he says, "Well, I have already seen how that goes and I think I want to try a sister this time." LOL! (disclaimer: These boys LOVE being together and LOVE playing together. Caden is just a bit intense for Lucas sometimes and a bit frustrating at this stage.)

I relayed this conversation to Hubby later in the afternoon, but more in a "hear the cute things our son said" kind of tone. When really, his words have touched a deep place in my soul. I don't know if we would ever adopt another child or not. Reading this book has certainly revived a desire I have had since high school to share our family's love with a child who may be in need of some. But parenting these boys is hard and makes me wonder if I have what it would take to parent through an adoption and be the right kind of mother to a girl of any age. But Lucas' words still ring in my ears. Is God using my 5yr old to water a seed?

I certainly don't know yet. I told Lucas that as a family we could talk more about this and pray about it. I told him he should ask God if this is right for our family and see what God says. But no matter what, if any, concrete action comes from this lunch conversation, I at the very least got a glimpse into the soul of my son and it was precious. So very precious. He has such a tender, little heart that longs for a brother he has never met. This visceral longing that has forever changed me resides also deep in this boy that, in many ways, rescued my soul from darkness. He also longs for a sister and I just can't dismiss that. I think I might long for that too. But the thought of bringing a little girl into our family, no matter the route, is daunting and a bit terrifying to me.
I am grateful for the heart of this little boy. I am touched by his words and thoughts and fully aware of God working in his soul. And mine.




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Preschool... Check!!

Lucas officially finished preschool today. He stood up on the stage with two of his favorite little friends, reciting their poems and singing their songs, and just like that my little baby left preschool behind with bigger things on the horizon. Bigger things like kindergarten and all that, but not necessarily better things. Loretto has been an amazing place for Lucas. His teachers are nurturing and instructive and put their whole hearts into being with the kids. We all feel so fortunate for them and can't wait for Caden to start next fall (if he'll potty train).

I cried through most of the program. Happy tears through a smile as big as the room. I was just so stinkin' proud of him and just kept picturing that moment when they first handed him to me in the hospital recovery room. He was this chubby, rosy faced little person who was going to change me forever in ways I could never fathom.
And now he is this smart (and a little sassy, too much sometimes) and tender little boy who is getting ready to take on the world. I asked him this morning as we were leaving for the program if he was ready to graduate preschool. He turned to me and said, "Mom, I was born ready!" And I pretty much think he's right.
I couldn't stop hugging him today, just wanting to cement in my soul the feeling of holding him while he can still fit in my lap. And I have to say that I also hugged Caden a bit tighter today. It won't be too long until I am living this day with him too.

Even as I type this, Caden is asleep next to me on the couch (at 11pm). He came down crying while I was finishing my nightly ritual of watching RealHousewives while blogging or playing on FB. I didn't have the heart to take him back to bed when all he wanted was to cuddle with his mama. And now his precious face is smushed against my arm and he is contentedly back to sleep. I hope neither of them get too old- EVER- to stop needing the comfort of being close to mama. I know I will never -EVER- stop needing the comfort of holding them close.

Happy last-day-of-preschool, my sweet Lucas! You are as vital to me as my heartbeat. I am so proud of the little boy you are and who you are becoming. You are gentle and kind-hearted and feel things so deeply. Your capacity for love and knowledge knows no bounds. My precious little preschooler... moving onto life's next task. Preschool? Check! Bring on the world!




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Mercy

Go on up to the mountain of mercy,
To the crimson perpetual tide;
Kneel down on the shore,
Be thirsty no more,
Go under and be purified.
-Beautiful Scandalous Night

God, in His infinite wisdom, spared Abraham his son.
God, in His infinite wisdom, did not spare mine. Nor His own.

Through Christ on the cross, we see the very face of God.
And last night, as I knelt at the cross, I felt Him near. As near as seven years ago when I knelt in this very room to plead for mercy and healing. And while the healing did not come, His mercy still flows.

So here I am again, pleading for His mercy and healing. This time for my own soul. Lord, heal this wound as I touch the cross where you were wounded for me. Smooth the rough places in my soul, the places that cause me to not be the daughter/wife/mother/sister/friend that I know you require of me.

Infuse me with Your peace. Your mercy.
It is not an accident that today it has been seven years. Seven is significant.
I cannot do this alone. The healing, the mothering, the forgiveness.

Lord, guide my heart and thoughts and soul. As I kneel here again, I place my heart back in Your Hands. I have kept it hidden for long enough. Heal this ache and the broken places inside. Heal the ways I have broken other things because I could not let go of my own brokenness.

Through His pain, mine is healed. Through His love, my heart is restored. The power of the cross fixes my broken places.

For every disappointment
For every broken heart
For every one in darkness - a light

For every wounded person
For every tired mind
For hopeless situations - a hope

The cross still stands
The cross still towers
His blood still cleanses
Eternally the same

For everyone who's desperate
For everyone who's lost
For everyone who's fearful - a shelter

For every painful question
For everyone's regrets
For every cry of 'Why God?' - an answer

The cross still stands.

-Still (by David Hind)

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Things I Learned in CR

Given a certain level of humidity, even I can have curly hair.
I could live just fine on beans and rice, fresh mango and fresh pineapple. I would be perfectly full and content. Oh, and some fried plantain. And maybe some guacamole (which is the most delicious I have ever had!).
BUT... I do NOT like fresh papaya. It tastes a little like vomit in my mouth. I DO, however, like a papaya/mango/banana daiquiri. Now that is livin'!
Always pack more than plenty of essential things, like batteries and sunscreen, when coming on a tropical vacation. I didn't have to replenish, but if I did, it would have cost me $41 for a small bottle of sunscreen. Yikes.
Sleeping in, while a nice treat and necessary now-and-then, is not the only means of refreshing one's soul. In fact, getting up early while on the beach without your kids is just as soul-feeding as sleeping past 7.
After years of being a sun worshipper, you'd think that I would remember to coat the tops of my feet with sunscreen. But no. Doh!
When you have been married for almost 12years, taking a vacation together without the kids is such a necessary thing. Having conversations that are not at all about the kids is also a necessary thing.
Also, taking a vacation with your spouse after 12years of marriage does NOT mean you have to spend every moment with your spouse. It is not your honeymoon, even though the romantic re-connection is really fabulous. The time alone is just as meaningful and refreshing as the time together.
My desire for adventure and to make the most out of every opportunity can (and did) override my deepest of fears. I was pretty convinced a snake was going to drop out of the trees if I went zip-lining. But when the tour guide told me it was VERY unlikely I would see a snake (but NOT impossible), I still had to put my fear aside so as not to miss out and regret not doing it.
Adding Vodka to Fanta orange soda makes a delicious cocktail that really just tastes like Fanta orange soda except it brings a warm, fuzzy feeling. How do I know this? Well, let's just say that the hotel rooms in CostaRica come very well stocked with a fridge full of a variety of sodas and about 4different types of liquor, all included in your vacation price.
You can learn all kinds of things about yourself and and your husband and your husband's co-workers when you go away to paradise for a week with your husband and his co-workers. Very interesting things.

There is so much more.... some very deep things. But I will save those for another time. I will say, though, that I read two very interesting books while lounging at the pool last week. One was an emotional read that made me see some key relationships in a new light. The other was a book I was hesistant to read because it was such a phenomenon but it was actually really good and has my mind (and soul) pondering some deep thoughts. Hmmm.... Curious? Me too. I'll share more soon. :)



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The Heart of What Is True

We brought out our Jesus Tree this morning, since it is Ash Wednesday and all- the beginning of Lent. I fed my boys breakfast and then the three of us sat together and read the first passage (Luke 2:22-38) and put the birds on our tree. We talked about what Lent means and how it is an important season of preparation just like Advent. How it is a time to reflect and fix our eyes and heart on Jesus. We had a really nice moment, me and my boys, and then we went about our day.
I would love to tell you that our day was perfect after having such a nice moment at breakfast. It wasn't a horrible day, but a pretty typical one. There was school and music class and lunch and an outing with some friends. Throw in some tantrums and whining and mommy losing her cool and it was your average day for us.

I wish I was a perfect mom. Well, at least a better one. I wish I was more patient and less prideful. I wish I was that mom who could smile 'til it hurt, even through constant whining and fits about toys and TV. I am not that mom. I get so frustrated, I feel manipulated, and I don't always deal with that well. I have big expectations for myself and most people in my path (including my two little guys). I SO wanted (and planned) to think of some new Lenten crafts to start today or plan some big family devotional or something. Instead, I yelled at Caden when he was over-tired and refused to get in the car seat (aka: kicking and screaming and whole nine yards).
I fall. Everyday. I wake up with the ambition that today I will be the mom of my expectations. And without fail, I fall. Sometimes later in the day than others (depending on how much sleep I got). And each evening, I sit by their sleeping beds and pray God's protection over their little hearts from my own faults and weakness. And today was no different. It started well and became average with a few shameful moments thrown in too. So tonight, this first night of Lent, I again sat close as they drifted to sleep, praying for God's help in teaching them and loving them and shaping them into the men they are meant to be. It is too easy to get down on myself for all the ways I am not who I should be or where I should be.

But in the quiet of their dark room tonight, God reached in to quiet my parade of guilt and replace it with what is True: I am not perfect. I am not meant to be perfect. I love those boys more than I can fathom and would give them the world. What I do is enough. I have endless worth in His eyes. When I fail them, He is there. Covering what I lack. And the places I fall, He covers those too.
Yes, I have things to repent of and areas to work on. But I am not at this alone.

My flesh is incapable, depraved and in need of my Savior. His grace covers my sin and theirs and yours. In my heart is what is true: I am loved by my God, despite my faults. My deep love for my boys is not changed by my shortcomings. I desire to give all of me to my Lord and let Him shape me. I know those things to be true even though I regularly fall short.
I only pray that as God continues to teach me the heart of what is true and show me grace for all the ways I let Him down, my boys will see Him at work.

I may not be truly prepared for Lent. I don't have any new crafts to do or exciting activities planned. I am positive that I will wake up tomorrow, hoping it will be the day I meet my own expectations for myself and yet I know I will fall. But He will be even there. Whispering again to me the truth that is in my heart. And helping me live and teach that truth to my precious boys a little more everyday. So that is what Lent will be for me this year: trying to reflect on what I know is True and fix my heart on Him so that my boys will hopefully learn to do the same.

(well... maybe one or two crafts! :) )


These ladies say it way better than I ever could:

Lenten Preparations

Why do Lent?

Lent {for the newcomer}



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Morning Prayer

I received two books on prayer for Christmas. The first is Beth Moore's Praying God's Word and the other is Henri Nouwen's Book of Hours. Both have deeply impacted me and affected me so far. I have SO much more to share about the first book, if I can find time to sit and process it all a bit. But I wanted to share a bit of the second book this morning that helped shift my mind a little more towards Jesus as I am beginning this day.

My boys are notorious early risers and I have been trying to get up before them to have some quiet time to think and pray. So far it isn't working (more on that sometime soon too) so I am having to be a little creative to get my time alone. This morning, Lucas woke me up around 530 by climbing into my bed and waking Caden up (who was sleeping next to me). I was annoyed and agitated and felt myself starting the day on the wrong foot. So after breakfast, I sent the boys to play in the basement for a few minutes so I could drink my tea and spend some time being quiet. The concept of the book of hours is not new or unique to Henri Nouwen. It is a compilation of prayers and scriptures to be meditated on throughout the day, to keep our hearts focused on God. The passages I read this morning really hit me. And maybe they will speak to you too.

"When Jesus says: 'Make you home in me as I make mine in you,' he offers us an intimate place that we can truly call 'home.' Home is that place or space where we do not have to be afraid but can let go our defenses and be free, free from worries, free from tensions, free from pressures. Home is where we can laugh and cry, embrace and dance, sleep long and dream quietly, eat, read, play, watch the fire, listen to music, and be with a friend. Home is where we can rest and be healed."

"The spiritual life is not life before, after, or beyond our everyday existence. No, the spiritual life can only be real when it is lived in the midst of the pains and joys or the here and now. Therefore, we need to begin with a careful look at the way we think, speak, feel, and act from hour to hour, day to day, week to week, and year to year, in order to become more fully aware of our hunger for the spirit. As long as we have only a vague inner feeling of discontent with our present way of living, and only an indefinite desire for 'things spiritual,' our lives will continue to stagnate in a generalized melancholy." (OUCH)

I think I needed to read both those things this morning. God is definitely working on my soul. I was challenged by my prayer partner to pray about picking one word, a word that I could I could pray for myself for the coming year. Hers is "hunger," as in she wants to long for God in a way that is vital to her body with that hint of desperation. I am not sure what my word is yet, but I think God is pushing me towards something new this year. And it is starting with these two books that are teaching me how to see myself more clearly through His eyes and then see beyond myself and keep my eyes more firmly planted on Him.



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Solid 30s

I took Caden with me yesterday to get a new driver's license (for me, not Caden!). As the kind DMV guy was renewing my license, he pointed to the height/weight/eye color portion and said "Ma'am, would you like to update any of this information?" Ugh.

True. I am a bit different in many ways from my "8 years ago" self. A few more pounds, a few more babies. Probably a few more pounds because of the few more babies. Well, them and the Twizzlers and chocolate that help me cope with them. But hopefully it is more than that. A little more self-aware. A little further down the road.

I love this life, mostly. I am grateful for my family and friends. There are certainly things I would change, but we all have those. Most of the things I would tweak about my life have very little to do with my actual life and everything to do with how I approach it.

So here we go. 34. Hubby says this is a good place to be. "Not just turned 30 but on the good side of 40," he says. "Solidly in your 30s." (We'll see how he spins it next year . *wink,wink*) But I kinda agree. I am solidly in my 30s. I am getting more and more comfortable with myself every day and more and more brave to change the things that need the tweaking. Those extra pounds included. I can almost see how God has been leading and shaping and growing me. Almost. I am still getting there.

May year 34 bring much joy and clarity. Health and overall wellness. The strength to let go of my pride and pretense and just be me: a 34 yr old mama who treasures my boys and loves my life. Happy Birthday to me!



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2010... Don't Let the Door Hit Ya'

Or so the saying goes. Not so sorry to see this one go. This year I mean. 2010 has not been my favorite as far as years go.

Joint pain... Lupus... Twice disappointed by trying to rent a new home and it not working out...
New job that turned out to be a bust... Some struggles in different relationships...
Blah, blah, blah.

I am ready for a fresh start.

As this new year begins, I am not so much making resolutions as I am doing some shifting. Shifting from reactive to proactive. From "I wish the boys would sleep longer" to "Good Morning!" From joint pain to health and energy. From "Where does the time go?" to "I am happy with how I have spent my days."
I have made the decision to give myself a hard-and-fast bedtime on weeknights. I started doing this when my joint pain was at its worst and it really did help. I will be IN bed each night by 11pm. The flip side of that is... no matter what time my boys sleep until, I am going to get up each day at 6am. I fully realize that it may be earlier some days if Caden decides to be an early bird. But on the days they (thankfully) sleep a little later, I am going to get up and shower and maybe even have 5min to drink a cup of tea and read a verse or two to get my day going.

It is about shifting my focus. So much of 2010 was spent reacting to this new health challenge and the actions/words of people around me. Or reacting to those early mornings after later nights when I was already at a deficit. It is just so hard to be patient or proactive when your body and your "schedule" are working against you. Enough.

In 2011, I am going to be gluten-free and more rested. I am going to proactively take care of my body and my mind and my soul. I am going to change my work schedule (increasing my days) so that we can pay down our debt and live more free. I am going to be intentional about how I spend my time and my money and make hard decisions for both.
God has blessed me with a precious woman in my church to meet with and pray with and walk this journey together with. She challenges me when I need it and loves me when I need it. And hopefully I can do the same for her. Having this mentoring-type relationship is the first intentional thing I have done in years for my own personal/mental/spiritual health.

My bedtime is in 7minutes.

So 2010... I can't say I'm sad to see you go. Welcome 2011! The year I turn 34 (ahem... on Friday!) and regain the healthy, happy, vibrant me that I know is still there somewhere. She never really left, she just got muffled at times. Let this be the year I stand up for my own/my family's needs and not let fatigue or frustration or the sometimes unkind words of others dictate how my life should go. I am shifting my focus. Maybe a little more towards myself, but really just a lot more towards my Savior.

Happy New Year to y'all.




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Rooting Out the Weeds

Hubby and I recently dived head first into Dave Ramsey's philosophies of budget and debt management. In one of his books, he says "If you are apathetic because everything seems 'just fine,' then you will be unwilling to make the huge changes needed to get huge results. ... The enemy of 'the best' is not 'the worst.' The enemy of 'the best' is 'just fine.' "

I both 100% agree with this and yet kinda disagree. When it comes to strict budgeting to eliminate debt and build wealth, he is totally right. But I am not sure this phrase applies universally. When I try to apply this philosophy to my marriage and my parenting and my relationships with my family, I start to see how it leads me down a dangerous road. Let me explain. (To be fair, Dave Ramsey is NOT applying this phrase to my marriage and mothering abilities... that is all me... and I am preaching only to myself here.)

I am an all-or-nothing kind of gal. I always read the preface of a book because either I am reading the whole book or I feel like I have cheated. I am not good at skimming or "maybe" or "we'll see how things go." I like a plan, I like things to fit in the boxes I have made for them. Things and people.
Before I was a wife or a mother, I had pretty sure ideas of what both marriage and parenthood would be like. (*wink*) My husband would always passionately pursue me, we would talk about everything and usually agree, and sex would never be dull or routine. Then would come motherhood. And I was sure that would be filled with joyous moments of watching my children grow into respectable little humans who adored me and only occasionally tested their boundaries. I am exaggerating a bit, but you get the idea.
Reality is usually different than the world I envision in my mind. Relationships too. We all know that marriage and motherhood are hard and that no one is perfect at either one. But how much mediocrity do we say is part of the reality of life and how much should we be striving for things to be "the best" or at least "better?"

It is easy for me to look at my husband and see things that I would like to change. Little behaviors or personality traits or sometimes even bigger things. It is very easy for me keep a running tally of those things in my mind and gather more and more ammunition each time.
I have this habit of taking my less-than-stellar motherhood moments and harping on them in my mind until I am convinced my boys will need therapy before they reach puberty. I have gone to great lengths to preserve my days at home with the boys and have visions of how those days should go. Yet when the boys fight and I lose my cool and we didn't get to the Advent craft I had planned, I feel disappointed and a little like I have failed them.

What I am getting at is this: My marriage could be better. My mothering could be better. My relationship with my mom and my sister could be better. But I am afraid I am paralyzing my ability to enjoy and appreciate those relationships for what they truly are by always looking at the ways they could be "better." I am not saying I don't need to work on things. I certainly do. In fact, I met with a good friend this morning for coffee who lovingly challenged me to look at my own sin of finding fault with others and how that can be so detrimental. Especially to my marriage. I am just saying that always focusing on how things "ought" to be and the ways in which my Hubby or my boys or my family need to change in order to better fit into the boxes that I have created for them might actually be hurting my ability to be content. I tell myself "if only ... blah, blah, blah." Fill in the blank. If only Hubby took more initiative. If only the boys were less wild. Whatever.
My habit of finding fault is a weed. I have to root out this weed. When such a thought pops into my head, I have to get rid of it immediately. Root it out. Don't even let it grow.
Because when you really get down to it, even though it could always be "better," my marriage is "just fine." My relationship with my boys is "just fine." My Hubby loves me and I would never doubt his loyalty. My boys are sweet and forgiving of my out-bursts and truly do adore me. We have some great times together.
This is one instance where saying things are "just fine" is not an indicator of apathy. It is an acknowledgment that we are a work in progress and might never reach "the best." But as long as we stop constantly finding fault but are still willing to see areas where we need to improve, it is better to be content and find joy in the 'just fine."



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Florida Fun

After a week in Florida, we leave tomorrow to go back home. The weather has been absolutely perfect... well, maybe a little hot. But fabulous none-the-less! We have had a good mix of low-key days and on-the-go fun. There has been some drama with my family... there usually is... but I still love them and love being here.

Being at the beach helps me think. It restores my soul. Something about feeling the sand in my toes and hearing the roar of the waves brings calmness to me. It definitely helps wipe away my worry and anxiety and feelings of guilt or failure. Sitting in the sand, I am whole and content and renewed with strength. When I am on the beach and seeing the boys run laughing through the water, I forget my fears of not living up to others expectations of me. To watch Lucas and Caden play on the beach brings me more joy than I can comprehend. Even Caden's epic meltdown didn't ruffle me (I wouldn't let him dump the bucket with the shells I had collected and he lost his mind!)... well, didn't ruffle me TOO much.

As much as I love the beach, I am ready to come home too. I miss Hubby and need a mental break from some of the drama. If I could stay on the beach the whole time, it might be different. Someday maybe. If anyone has a beach house or a million dollars they want to give me, I wouldn't refuse. :)

Here is a little snapshot of some of the fun we have been having. Good thing cameras don't preserve the drama. These are the things I prefer to remember anyway.
We went to a small carnival down on Destin beach. The boys rode some little rides and then my dad and I and the boys went up in the Ferris Wheel. I loved being up at the top and seeing the beach stretch out in each direction. Very cool.

Lucas drove the JetSki by himself! He loved it! One time, he forgot to gently press the throttle and we got up to about 30mph...which scared us both. Ha!! But after that, he begged me to go again, and again. And this was Caden's first ever ride on the JetSki. He was an immediate fan, as you could have probably guessed.

We visited this local butterfly house, who just happened to be having their annual MonarchMadness event where they release some of their butterflies and have a huge party to celebrate it. The boys both got to hold and then release a butterfly which was super cool. We also happened to be in the right place at the right time: just as we were standing at the cage watching some caterpillars, one of them broke open and formed his chrysalis. It was one of the most amazing things I have ever seen. We had a great time!



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Push-Pull

I am in a stage of life where things could be leveling out a bit. Could.

The boys are just great. I mean, really great. Parenting is hard but I get lots of hugs and "I love yous" and that covers a multitude of frustrations. I love being with them but also watching them from afar. I have moments of sheer bliss and then others when I feel like I am totally failing them as their mother. My head is filled with thoughts of "how should I ..." and "what is the best way to ..." I want to raise them right and love them well and have them be joyful, respectful, balanced men who grow up to love others well and serve God. How do I get there?.... still figuring that one out.

This Lupus thing is a strange beast. Just when I thought I knew what was going in, yet another curve ball seems to be thrown my way. New symptoms, recurrence of some old ones. Hearing the words 'chronic-illness' come off my tongue of anyone's around me makes me want to vomit. I am so-very-far from having this whole thing figured out and that is frustrating. But I am keeping perspective (most of the time) and trying to make good decisions.

You see... it all boils down to this: There are a few things in my life that are really important to me. My boys top that list... my faith, my husband, my friends and family. Add to that list being respected by others, doing something meaningful with my life, trying to live the best life possible. I want to be a good friend, a great wife and mom. A good daughter and sister and daughter-in-law and sister-in-law. I want to be a success, to be fit, a good cook.

So here I am, in a place where life could be leveling out, and yet I am here still very much trying to figure out what that may look like. I want to sign the boys up for enriching things but yet I want to be at home with them just playing cars and reading books. I want to take them to the zoo and every children's museum within a 2hour radius but my body won't always cooperate. I want to fill our days and yet I am a better mom when I am not rushed or pressed. I want to have coffee and dinners out with friends, to go to women's bible studies, romantic dates with the Hubby. But more often than not, all I really want to do is lay on the couch and rest. Push-Pull.

I am an introvert who loves (and tries to nurture) community. I am a purposely busy mom who cherishes the slow days/nights. I am a couch-potato, diet-pepsi drinker at heart who desperately wants to be fit and healthy. I have Lupus but that doesn't define (all of) me.

I am a woman, child of God, busy mom. Trying to figure out how to be what I can for everyone who needs or desires a piece of myself. Filtering out things that clutter our life and prioritizing things that enrich it and not letting unhealthy thoughts or influences make those decisions for me. Deciding when to go out and when to stay in and not feel guilty for either one. Asking God to show me what His definition of meaningful is for my life. For my family.

Push-Pull.



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Running (from) Dysfunction

Don't let the title fool you. I have more than one dysfunction. I am just focusing on one specific one at the moment....

I lean on myself WAY too much. That is the long-and-short of it.

Last night was one of the worst nights I have had in a long time. My feet hurt, my hands hurt... my whole body hurt so very bad. I have begun to taper down the prednisone and so far it going just so-so. Plus I worked two long days this week, more than normal, and have been trying to catch up from vacation and get ready for the last market of the season tomorrow. So it has been a busy week to say the least. I laid on the couch last night and then in my bed and just cried. Tears of pain and frustration. I just want this to be over, to be off the front burner.

I felt better when I got up today, but I had to be at work before 7am (my third work day this week) so the relief didn't last long. By 9:30 this morning, the pain was back in my hands and feet. I got home from work at 11:30 in time to send Hubby off to work. When he got home at 8:30, I was pretty spent. So I went and crashed on the couch, right? Nope. I went for a run. Enter my dysfunction.

I simply cannot accept the fact that I am not in control of my body's response to itself. I am in pain, I am worn out, I am frustrated and overwhelmed.... so what do I do? I try to plan those things away. I analyze and try to figure out a way that I can make it all better.

About 10minutes into my run, my hands started to throb. They have truthfully been hurting all day plus running always makes them swell a bit. I should have stopped then, but I pushed through. It was a beautiful night, after all, and I should take advantage of it (so went the thoughts in my head). By mile 3, I was actually feeling pretty good. I had kinda found my stride and, despite my hands, felt like I was plugging along pretty well. Then at mile 4.5, I hit a wall. My body was telling me to stop, but it was hard for me to give in. Then the song "You're All I Need" (Bethany Dillon) came on my iPod and I just crumbled. I sat in the grass and just cried.
"You fill me when I'm empty, You are all I need."

Can I really say that? Is He all I need? When I was in tears last night, were my thoughts about how I was going to get through this or how God was going to get me through this? Do I really believe that He will carry me through? He has before in other times when I couldn't walk alone. But yet this week, when my body is weak and I am tired and I have taken on too much, I chose to try to fix it or prove to myself that I can make it better by pushing ahead. Even the taking on of too much is my dysfunctional way of proving to myself that no Lupus or joint pain or [fill-in-the-blank] is gonna stop me from working three days and having a market and weaning off the prednisone and training for a 10K if that is what I want to do.

The next song on my iPod was "Never Alone" (Barlow Girl). Message received, loud and clear. He is with me and carrying me through. This won't last forever. It is ok if I don't run the full 5miles I had intended to run tonight or make extra slings for the market. I do not have to prove I am in control of my own body and life and schedule. I can let go a little now and then and see where God takes me.
Well, those are the things I should say to myself and to God. That is the proper response and the one I am trying to have. I am a work in process for sure.

The inspirational ending to this story would be that I stood up and finished running the last half mile. But nope. I walked my achy self home and crashed on the couch to lay out my dysfunction here for all to see. And hopefully for me to learn from.

I should add that the song I walked home to was "Lovestoned" (Justin Timberlake). Kinda an odd playlist, I admit. But I loves me some JT! But that's a dysfunction for another day....


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Regaining What Was Lost

It has been a truly strange day for me. Actually, I haven't really felt like myself in awhile but I can see it starting to slowly come back. I think.

I was asked this morning by a friend to pick up her son and bring him to church while they got some painting done at their new house. As we loaded him into the car, squeezing the booster seat in between our boys' carseats, I got this strange feeling. Kinda like deja vu, but I couldn't put my finger on it. Driving to church, Lucas and Caden were loving having their friend sitting between them. The three of them were passing different monster toys back and forth and making dinos roar, having a grand ol' time. Lucas especially was all grins. It was amazing how adding this extra little guy made us all smile more and laugh more even though Hubby and I made the comment that we were truly outnumbered by little boys now. When we arrived at church, Hubby got the two older boys out of the car and I got Caden out of his seat. I turned to grab something out of the car to bring into church and when I turned back, I saw Hubby walking along the sidewalk with three boys at his side. It clicked for me in that moment.
The feeling of me and Hubby and three boys, all walking into church together, it felt good. It felt right. I know the other was not mine. But it gave me this rare, tangible glimpse of what we are missing. It made me want to get pregnant just to get that glimpse back. To somehow regain what we have lost. (I know, I know... it would do nothing of the sort. And I really DON'T want to be pregnant.) Having that extra little boy today made me feel like we are meant to be a family of 5. We are a family of 5, we are just not all together. Yet.

Then tonight, along with the majority of the country, Hubby and I sat and watched the LOST series finale. I know there have been all kinds of theories about the metaphors and story lines on this show. I don't even pretend to know the deeper meaning intended by the writers. What I do know, is that tonight, as I watched, I felt sad and yet comforted. (**Potential spoiler alert**) Each character in tonight's finale was reunited with their friends and those they loved while on the island. They had been going about "life," not remembering the events of the island, and at first it seems as if we are seeing what might have happened if the plane had never crashed. But the moment they touch someone whom they loved, the memories of all the shared experiences and the love flash back and their full memories are complete. They remember what it was like to hold their love, to kiss them. They remember both happy and sad times. It is as if the two worlds merge and they are all at once complete. (It seemed to me to be a picture of heaven but I am not at all trying to say that is what it was intended to mean.) As I sat and watched, having had the morning I did, I once again longed for my turn at completion.
Whenever I think about heaven or am asked about what I hope for the most, I pray one thing: When the day comes when Christ in His glory comes through the clouds to take us all to heaven and I get to see my precious first born again, that one touch of his hand in mine will bring a flood of memories, both lived and unlived. I pray that heavenly wholeness includes a restoration of the things that were lost. That in that moment, I will have memories of Micah in my arms and watching his first steps and teaching him to ride a bike and taking him for his first day of school and watching him play with his brothers and seeing Hubby and all his boys walk hand-in-hand down the sidewalk to church. And he will know me as his mother, who held him and fed him and loved him without break or the interruption of death. We will both be complete, in body and in heart and in memory. And kinda like in LOST tonight, my life as Micah's mom and my life as Lucas and Caden's mom will merge and I will know what it is like to feel whole, like truly and completely me.

I guess this has been an appropriate ending to a kinda strange day that began with me feeling that void more strongly than usual. Tomorrow will hopefully be a little more... or maybe a little less... I don't know how to finish that. I would never wish to not miss him. But until the restoration day, Lord may you heal my heart and strengthen my body and keep my focused on the things that truly matter. Amen.



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Off I go

I am headed out of town, flying south, on my way to some sunshine (I hope!). The boys and I leave tomorrow for Florida and I can't wait!
I need a break from my reality for a bit. I need to feel the sand in my toes and hear the crash of waves.
Life is a bit crazy right now. Things I thought were good and exciting are turning out to be challenging and confusing. I am trying to sort through my job situation and my living situation and some personal struggles with feeling a bit powerless to change certain things. On top of that, this is Holy Week and I tend to get contemplative about life past and present during this time. It is almost Micah's birthday and I get nervous seeing that come up on the calender.
Put all this together and I am looking forward to some beach therapy.

I am looking forward to sitting in the sand with my boys and watching them grin and dig their toes in. I want to eat my mother's cooking and snack on the cookies that my dad always has around. I want to sleep 'til 8 because my dad is playing with the boys and taking them on adventures on the golf course or in the trees. I need the salty, sandy breeze to make my skin feel sticky but my mind feel clear.

I need some quiet, some perspective... a break. So off I go, to the beach for Easter. Not much better than that.


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Trying to Live and Not Just Survive

It is already the middle of February. Dear Lord! How did that happen? A dear friend e-mailed me recently asking about a post I wrote last year (which I am gonna re-post later this week) and that was the first I had honestly thought about Lent and what I was planning for my family for this season. The last four weeks have just passed me by and I am doing well to just keep my head above water most of the time. Actually, that is not entirely accurate.

We are busy and still adjusting to my new job. And we are just getting over some pretty nasty viruses which always complicates life. And this new job has challenges that I did not expect. But even so, this past weekend has been wonderful and just the refreshment my soul needed. Hubby and I had a great date on Friday night, we had a low key day on Saturday filled with craft time and reading time, we took the boys bowling and out to lunch today and had a blast. The fact that my job is pulling me away from the boys more makes me a bit more aware of how I spend my time with them. So in that way, I am actually being more intentional than before. But the rest of life is just flying by and I am left with my head spinning.

I am in need of time to reflect and order my thoughts and my world. And what better time than Lent, a time that should be set aside for just those things. There are crafts I want to do, things I need to work on to grow my businesses, books I want to read, blogs I want to write (and read). But mostly, I just want to feel like I am in control and living life purposefully and I know in order to get there I need to take some time to get my feet back underneath me. I feel confident that God means for us to live life and not just survive it. And I am fully aware that life is busy because I have built it that way and I could "un-build" it in a minute. But that is easier said than done. The things that make life busy are also the things that often make it meaningful. I actually have cut back on certain things and am in the process of subtracting more. I am learning what I can handle and the importance of getting sleep above all things (thus the extreme lack of posting here). It is a process, and sometimes a slow one.

I am also realizing that it is very important to me to look back on the day, the week, the year and not say "where did the time go?" I want to use my time wisely, intentionally. I want to enjoy my boys and not just manage them. I want to experience things as a family, to create memories and strengthen our bonds with each other so that nothing will ever be able to break them. I want to live life, not survive it. I want to be the best me, the best mom, sister, friend, daughter, nurse that I can be while staying true to myself and who God has created me to be. I want to learn how to be the real me at all times and not let frustrating moments or people bring out sides that aren't truly who I am. At this moment, I am still very much in the middle of figuring out what that looks like for me and for my family. I have come to terms with different parts of it which I can go into more details on later. And I am making decisions about our lives that reflect this priority to make life as meaningful as possible. I just need some time to get all these thoughts in order and think about how to put feet to some of these words and thoughts.

It is almost Lent- a time to be intentional and reflect. I plan to do just that. With myself and with my boys. And hopefully more often, here in this space too. Just surviving is hard sometimes and I know everyday can't be filled with photo-album worthy events. But I also am starting to learn that there are simple ways to make even the smallest moments more like living and less like surviving. If you have this figured out or are farther on this journey than I am, please share.


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Bursting, Part 2

I have mentioned before that there is a certain song by Pink that is especially near and dear to me (for reasons that I cannot disclose). Well, I just found out that this certain song was performed AT THE GRAMMIES tonight and I can hardly believe it! I was at work tonight and didn't watch them live. But a dear friend (thanks Alli!) sent me the link to the YouTube video and I am bursting all over again. If you didn't see the performance either, here is the video for you.
This song makes me cry, for so many reasons not the least of which is that it is just a really, really beautiful song. It seems especially poignant for me tonight just thinking about the songwriter (whomever that may be... *wink, wink*) and some current challenges in my own life. This song, to me, celebrates the beauty that is found in living fully in the moment and not waiting for something better to come tomorrow. It is about living with abandon and not holding back or robbing yourself of joy just to protect yourself from hurt. This has been a theme I feel God is trying to teach me about lately.
Don't go through the motions, don't put up walls of protection all the time, love and be loved with abandon....

So even though there are some conflicting thoughts and feelings in my head and heart and soul tonight, I leave you with this beautiful song that reminds me to live my life fully and find joy in all the blessings both big and small. I might just throw some glitter in the air, just 'cuz I never have and it seems like it might be really fun.




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Fragile

I am a perfectionist. This is no secret. And this little personality flaw trait sometimes hinders my ability to keep up on this blog. I want each post to be perfect and initiating the inertia to post something becomes harder and harder the longer I go without posting. I don't know where to start. Should I just jump in (do you care about all the little things?) or should I not post unless I have something truly profound or meaningful to say? Can I put up a review of our new favorite children's book if I haven't filled y'all in on the happenings of my life lately? All these silly bloggy questions.... Truthfully, none of it feels relevant tonight.

Today, I got a surprise visit from my good friend reality. The reality of the fragility of life seemed to smack me in the face today. A friend from work lost her husband to cancer. They have two small girls who are really missing their daddy tonight. I also got the news that a close family friend has advanced large cell lymphoma. Her doctors are treating her aggressively, trying to increase her chances of surviving it. She is older than me, younger than my parents, has three kids and grandbabies on the way. A bloggy friend lost her baby today. She went in for her 18wk. ultrasound and there was no heartbeat. Not cool. None of it.

On top of all this, I turn 33 tomorrow. Not that I am upset about that. I am really not that phased by it at all. I used to make a big deal out of my birthday. And I do still like to receive a little extra TLC on my one day and feel appreciated and celebrated. But that looks different now than it used to. But there is just something about birthdays that makes me step back and assess my life and priorities and all the such. One of my sweetest friends came over with her two kiddos this morning and we talked and watched the little ones play trains while the older ones played out in the snow. It was refreshing and fun and just what we both needed. And as usually happens with this dear friend, our conversation got me thinking even more about the things in my life that are meaningful and important.

I was accused recently of being selfish and only caring about what happens to me and my sons. And while I certainly have selfish moments or days or months, it is days like today where I realize that is mostly untrue. My heart hurts for these people in my life who are experiencing the harsh side of life's fragility. I have been there. I am there at times. I know that life is fragile. I have felt it slip away. I watch Caden play trains with his little friend and Lucas sled down our tiny hill, laughing and being a little boy. Certainly my heart is completely caught up in these boys. But the reality is that no matter how hard I try, I do not hold their lives. Only the angels surrounding them and God's love and perfect plan for them keep them safe and on the right path. And it is because of God's love for me that I have these boys at all. And a husband who loves me despite my selfishness. And friends who come over to let me vent and talk about my fears and failures and fragile places (that is a whole other blog post!!).

Even though my life is fairly stable at the moment, I know that my next moment could bring my familiar friend reality knocking again at my door. Life is fragile like that. I have known my own tragedy but I stand here today with my hubby and my boys and friends and family who love me. And I know that I am extravagantly blessed even during life's most fragile moments.


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These Still Moments

I sit in this chair, my baby sweetly nursing to sleep. I know he is not so much a baby anymore but we both still treasure these moments when he is cradled in my arms, being lulled off to sleep by a little warm milk. I love that moment when I can see him slipping into slumber. His eyes start to close, then quickly dart open with one last effort to hold onto the day. But then, he cannot fight it anymore and his eyes close completely. He is not asleep though, but sleep is coming. In this most precious of moments, my baby is deeply connected to me and I to him. So much so, that he is not content to simply be latched on. To be completely relaxed and soothed, he must also wrap his soft, gentle fist around my finger. He squeezes tightly as if he doesn't ever want to let go. Come closer, mama. Don't go anywhere.
I can't hold my phone to text or change the channel on the remote while he is nursing at night. But I wouldn't want to. I might miss this moment and that would just not do. I love this moment. I need this moment. The rest of the day he is a bundle of energy, climbing everything in sight and emptying drawers and cabinets faster than I can run behind him. He doesn't have many words yet but the ones he does have are said with a scream and nothing less. MAMA!!! BABA!!! (his word for his brother) This kid moves non-stop. Except right now. Right now, he is still. I need this still moment. My mommy-heart thrives on it.

He sits in the backseat, tired and quiet. This boy, unlike his younger brother, is so verbose. He just doesn't stop talking! Mommy, what animal is the predator of the eagle? Did you know that dinosaurs that eat only meat are carnivores? I think I am a carnivore. I love to eat meat. I asked Santa for an eagle toy. One that flies and says 'caw, caw'.... You get the point. The cool thing is, his brain moves even faster than his tongue. I love that about him. So even though it is at times tough to get a word in with this kid, in this moment he is quiet. He is still recovering a bit from illness and we have had a busy day. Church and lunch and a fun little mommy-and-me stamping party. I turn my head to see if he has fallen asleep. He is awake, just calm. He sees me looking at him and our eyes meet and he smiles. I say, "I love you Lucas." His grin gets bigger. I love you too, Mommy.
Last night, after his brother was in bed, Lucas sat with me on the couch to read our Advent books. Actually, he started in a different chair watching his latest obsession, Wonder Pets. When he saw me sit, he turned off the TV and came over to snuggle with me. I love this moment. I need this moment. The rest of the day he is a busy little chatterbox who frequently pushes/kicks/squeezes/lays on top of his brother and doesn't ever want to stop what he is doing to pee or eat or obey. He is your typical boundary-pushing, exasperating preschooler. Except right now. Right now, he is still. He is quiet, except for that sweet unsolicited "I love you!" which makes any moment other than this seem to fade into the background. I need this still moment with him sitting in my lap listening to me read. My mommy-heart thrives on it.

I am the mother of 3 boys. One of them I never heard utter a sound. But our eyes met and he squeezed my hand. These other two make nothing but noise all day. And I admit to having my fill of it sometimes. Add in the barking dog and I just may lose my mind somedays. But these moments, these quiet moments, are what keep me. These boys are my heart, my soul. They are no less a part of me and vital to my existence than my own lungs or brain. And when our eyes meet and they sit close and squeeze my hand, I am whole. And I am still.


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