To Those With “Littles”…I see you!

Mamas of littles…listen…closely…tune out the crying from the other room…I have something to tell you…a little hope to offer…here goes…

It will get easier!

I can barely believe it myself. Nope, I’m not in the stage yet where I’m saying, “It goes by so fast. Enjoy it.” Truthfully, there’s still not a ton of this parenting gig I actually enjoy. But we’ve progressed a little and I’ve realized something huge. I’ll say it again…

It will get easier!

By around 3 and a half, the clouds begin to lift. Your kids will most likely be able to tie their own shoes, pee in the potty, buckle themselves in their carseat, get their own snacks, and even entertain themselves for a little while in the morning (while you….sleep in!).

It’s a breath of fresh air. You can read a book in another room while they’re in quiet time, confident that no one will die. You don’t have to worry about toys in the mouth or falling down steps. You can even take walks without a stroller. And there’s no diaper bag to pack before leaving the house.

Hear me out tired Mamas…3 years. 3 whole years. You can do this. You can do it multiple times.

God will meet you where you are today. He will strengthen you. He will give you patience. He will help you smile. He will wipe away those tears that no one even knows you’re crying. He’ll lift your tired head up from the playroom floor. He’ll redeem those arguments with your spouse because you’re not even sure you really know each other anymore. He is right there with you.

And His strength is perfect in weakness. Today. Tomorrow. For 3 years. For more.

It will get easier!

Believe this. And lean in deeply (so deeply) to Him. He is there!

 “But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me.” (II Corinthians 12:9)

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I don’t want this moment to be holy…it wasn’t planned!

Most mornings you’ll find me sitting on the closet floor. Door shut. Pen in hand. Journal open.

I write to think. To wake up. To assure our kids after I’m gone and they nose through my journals that yes…Mom really was a big mess.

But recently the kids have found my spot. They know where I hide. And they come in.

THEY.COME.IN.DURING.MY.ALONE.TIME.

The other morning Kenan was the culprit. Dinosaur pajama pants. Shirtless. Carrying a blue blanket.

And I wanted to frown at him. To shoo him away to an Ipad.

But for some reason I stopped. Put him in my lap. And just held him. Smelled his hair. Breathed deeply of our littlest who’s now 3.

“This is holy.”

That’s what came to mind as we sat there. In the silence.

My Bible was waiting. My journal entry was half done. But somehow the moment felt holy. And I held grace in my arms.

Friends…let’s read our Bibles. Let’s pray. Let’s journal. But let’s not miss the moments where He slips in and says, “This…Even THIS is holy.”

Jesus revealed Himself to people on boats, land, and sky. He spoke to fisherman, tax collectors, and children.

Let’s not miss His grace today in the unexpected places. Let’s BE His grace today in the unexpected places.

 “And whoever gives one of these little ones even a cup of cold water because he is a disciple, truly, I say to you, he will by no means lose his reward.” (Matthew 10:42)

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A couple things…He was asleep on me. I wasn’t faking this smile. And we were out of town sleeping on the floor.

 

 

More Alike Than Different

Jeremy and I joined the pool. For exercise. For our “core.” For our scarred up knees that hate (HATE) treadmills.

It’s fine. Kinda. Bathing suits aren’t my friend. I refuse to get my face wet. It’s fine. There’s a hot tub.

I’m a scanner. Especially at the pool.
-You look awkward…we should be friends.
-You’re tugging at your suit…we should be friends.
-You just finished your 1000th lap…move along.

I do that with the kids also.
-You wanna read a book…Mom’s available.
-You’re begging to bake cookies…Mom’s available.
-You pooped your pants…I’m in the middle of fixing dinner.

And with Jeremy.
-You wanna go out…I’ll be ready in 5.
-You wanna keep the kids while I go out…I’ll be ready in 5.
-You wanna preach your upcoming sermon to me…I can’t put this book down.

What if our differences are separating us from connection?

Esther asks why her skin is brown and mine is white. I sit there dumb.

Then respond.
-Our skin may be different colors…But we both like smelly lotion.
-Our eyes may be different colors…But we both like pink.
-Our hair may be different colors…But we both prefer ponytails.

Because there is more that connects than could possibly meet the eye.

Y’all…a Jew named Jesus suffered for me.
He could have (should have) looked at me and said move along.

Y’all…a part of the Trinity died for me.
He could have (should have) looked at me and said I’m too busy.

Y’all…a perfect, holy God offered His Son in my place.
He could have (should have) condemned me to Hell and started fresh.

But grace.

Today…let’s live in that grace. Let’s love in that grace. Let’s see others in that grace.

Because grace makes us more alike than different.

“There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is no male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” (Galatians 3:28)

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(And yes…I’m finding things in common even at this stage.)

 

 

 

 

 

 

Where Moms Fail (Confession Time)

I hate (HATE) to use the word fail. But can’t think of a better one. This has been burning a hole right through me lately.

Every time I utter the 2 words–“I’m fine”–when I’m really not…I fail.

I fail you because I’m lying. I fail my family because they’re getting fragments. I fail God because I’m relying on my own strength.

You know what the kids get most days…me. Like…FULL–ON–ME.

I’m mentally counting the minutes I spend with each kid, making sure they get equal “Mom time.” I’m stressing out if it’s near dinnertime, and we haven’t read a single book. I’m beating myself up over sunny days we’ve spent inside.

And this blog is titled bumps, bruises, and GRACE.

Sigh…still so far to go.

God’s grace seems big enough for my kids. It seems big enough for my marriage. But often it seems too small for me.

Y’all…lots of days…I’m just not fine. I’m really not. I’m meeting needs on the second all  while trying to live simply and be still.

I’m offering grace to others but not letting it spill over onto me.

Father, forgive me. I admit that I easily swing back toward works-righteousness instead of grace. I confess that lots of days I consider you my Savior but not my friend. I’m tempted to make You a thing I do instead of a relationship I bask in. Be my strength. In your beautiful grace, redeem these bumps and bruises.

Friends…let’s be fine with not being fine. Christ came for “not fine” people. He uses “not fine” people.

“For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” (John 1:16)

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My Something Looks Like Nothing Compared To That…

She’s collecting for the homeless. She’s starting her Masters. And I’m sitting here, overeating Wheat Thins, and considering it a great success that Kenan finally fell asleep.

At Carowinds the other day, I was top scorer in the Plants vs. Zombies game. Y’all…the spotlight shone on me! In front of the 50 middle schoolers in there. And I couldn’t have been prouder.

It’s small wins over here. Spelling “your” not “yor.” Knowing 9×9=81. Changing your underwear. Putting on underwear.

As a kid, I wanted to be the first woman ever to play baseball professionally. Not kidding.

As an adult, I want to be the first woman ever to…well, I’ve forgotten.

“Having gifts that differ according to the grace given to us, let us use them.” (Romans 12:6a)

For a season…our gifts may lie dormant.

“Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” (Romans 12:15)

For a season…our rejoicing and weeping may be with little people with dirty faces.

“Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good.” (Romans 12:21)

For a season…our greatest good may be shown in the place we call home.

And it’s OKAY.

To help the homeless. To get your Masters. To not.

“I appeal to you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your spiritual worship.” (Romans 12:1)

My sacrifice may not look the same as yours.

And it’s OKAY.

As long as His sacrifice is spotlight. As long as His love is my affirmation. As long as every choice I make-every yes or no I say- is an attempt to glorify Him.

Today…whether you’re collecting for the broken, writing a research paper, or pulling out a fresh pair of Paw Patrol underwear…remember the Who more than the What.

We have worth because Jesus laid down His.

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