A Mother’s Poem

I wrote a poem the other day with the purpose to describe some of the thoughts and feelings that run deep within a mother’s heart.

I know that poems aren’t everyone’s thing, however, I strongly believe that certain emotions can not be fully expressed in an article format, but only caught in glimpses of time. So I used snapshots of everyday life in each stanza to help capture the full essence of what it is to be a Mother.

A Mothers Poem

Deepest dreams come true, the best moments of life! Tiny hands reaching, stroking, hugging; my heart is melting! Pulling, grabbing, pinching; okay, now leave me alone!

Panic sets in. Where is he? Have my worst fears come true? Am I the horrible mother they think I am? There, he sits outside playing safe and sound. One quick glance calms the fears but, for just one more moment.

Heart swelling, that’s MY little girl. Pretty, smart and strong. Where did that confidence come from, or those lovely full lips? But those deep blue eyes are all mine.

Sit down for a breath and work stacks up like Jenga blocks, just waiting to come crashing down on my head. Just one more moment, just another second. Outside, the kitten just lies still while the dog devours it, until I knock on the window and save the poor soul. I guess I got up.

That time you came and told me that my thighs jiggled when I ran and I laughed so hard with you, but when you left, I cried. They were once firm like yours.

Just over this wave, is another one really coming up so fast? Waiting for the calm in the storm. Another question I can’t answer, another job I won’t do. But no one else does it either, so I guess I will.

When I dumped a full bucket over you and the shock on your wet face made me laugh. Squealing, because you smiled with revenge. A small glimpse in time but forever burnt into my memory. See, Mommy can have fun too.

Am I in this alone? Sometimes. Me, and a billion others. On an island of kids. Make those smoke signals high, no one will come. Find help for yourself. If you have any idea where to start looking for it.

The girl sings softly as she wanders alone, two boys dig in the mud together, each with a stick, searching for some hidden treasures that are lost to the rest of the world. The littlest one lovingly pets that poor kitten the wrong way. And I take it all in like a breath of fresh air. The best day.

No! You ruined it! It can never be replaced! Your sticky hands, marking it forever with a piece of you. The regret isn’t the tiny fingerprints but the way your eyes dropped down when I yelled. I’m so sorry.

Is it the end of the day, or the beginning of the night? Really can’t tell anymore. What is sleep? The lights are on and off like a summer lightening storm, while the rest of the world sleeps in peace.

Peace. When the work is done, when they lie down still. Peace. When the nightmares fade and the light in the bathroom glows softly, just in case.

Sleep soft, sweet angels, Mama loves you with every aching breath.

10 Confessions Behind those “Perfect” Posts

Someone said something to me the other day that sort of bothered me.

Oh, it had nothing to do with her as it was very kind and meant as a complete compliment…but it hit a very sensitive subject that I carry close to my heart: Authenticity. The compliment was something like this: “I can’t believe what you all do with your children and homeschooling, plus the cakes you make and your blog…you’re just amazing.” And I smiled and told her she was far too kind because in NO WAY am I anywhere near amazing, but I still think it was totally sweet of her.

However, it  got me to thinking: Who am I showing the world that I am? Really.

Am I authentic? Am I being honest? Are my posts misleading people to think that I’m some super mom that has it all together? Because, believe me, I don’t. So I decided to be really raw with you. So raw that I may just be tempted to delete this piece five minutes after I post it. But it needs to be said, because social media has tricked us. It’s tricked us into believing that everyone elses lives are just great but ours actually suck. So I wrote a list of ten confessions behind the “Perfect” posts you see.

10) It’s not all that perfect – Every post you see was well-timed, well placed, and captured the best of the best. For every perfect shot, there were ten pictures deleted…for every perfect moment, there were fifty filled with sweat, tears, pain and sorrow. For every time I bragged about my pride in my accomplishments, my kids, my possessions and my friends, there were a hundred more disappointments, failures and let downs.

9) Those great moments didn’t happen often – Jealous that I’m such a cool mom that seems to be always doing amazing, fun things with my kids? Really you got it all wrong. I never spend enough time with them. I post almost every single good time with them as if somehow it will make up for the many times I tell them to leave me alone or “go play” or say “maybe later” when they just want to be with me. My posts are merely ways I have tried to make up for all the times I haven’t been that cool mom that does amazing and fun things with her kids.

8) I’m insecure – My thoughts after almost every single thing I post online: “Will they like it? Will this offend someone? Maybe I should just take this post off before anyone sees it… Why didn’t so and so comment on this? Maybe they don’t like it. Maybe they don’t like me…” Think I’m confidant and fearless? Think again. These things have literally kept me up at night.

7) It’s never good enough – For every beautiful cake I’ve made, there’s a thousand better ones on Pinterest.  For every great blog post, there’s a hundred others just like it. That cute picture I took of my kids? I really can’t stop wishing that I had changed them into clothes that matched a bit better, that I had a better looking yard in the backround, that I was a better photographer…I see the flaws that you don’t.

6) I’m jealous of your posts too – Okay not ALL the time…often I am happy for you. But sometimes I see your posts and I think “Seriously, what! How can she look so good in a swimsuit? Am I the only mom in the world who’s gotten stretch marks EVERYWHERE?!?” or “How can they afford to travel all the time? I could only wish!” or “No way, her husband gave her flowers AGAIN? That’s like the third time this month!” or “She is so effortlessly witty and funny, why do I have to try so hard all the time?” These thoughts are ugly, aren’t they? But they’re real. And sometimes I feel them towards your “perfect” life, because I don’t see your real life either.

5) My flaws are carefully hidden – Wow!! Don’t you love that photo of me?!? Because it actually looks NOTHING like me. Not the real me. Before the makeup covers the bags under my eyes. Before my frizzy hair that slightly resembles a lions mane is curled or straightened. Before I sucked in my stomach for the photo, choosing the angle that best hides my crooked nose and extra skin. Before I picked the instagram filter that accented the blue in my eyes or that hid whatever else the makeup couldn’t. Now you’re probably waiting for a real picture of me aren’t you? Well HA! Not happening because…

4) You’re only seeing what I want you to see – because if I don’t want you to know, I won’t post it. I don’t like to document those ugly moments. I don’t want you to see me after I just woke up and my hair is sticking out every which way. I don’t often talk about the things that went horribly wrong like the temper tantrums, the fights, the wonky looking cakes and the blog post flops (ohhh yes, for every one I post there’s five I delete)…if I don’t want you to see it, simple: I DON’T POST IT.

3) I check my stats/comments/likes way too often – because I care FAR too much what everyone else thinks…really do I have to watch every single hit of my blog in real-time? One would think not, but once again, you aren’t seeing the reality of how pathetic I can actually be…you’re only seeing what I want you to see.

2) It’s all too soon forgotten – Remember the name of that white police officer who shared that heart-felt message to the black man he pulled over for texting and driving? No? Then maybe you’ll remember the name of that woman who was deaf and got the golden buzzer on America’s Got Talent? Or how about that brother who convinced his drugged up sister that she was in a zombie apocalypse? Or how about the photo with the little girl in the hotdog suit and all the other girls dressed as princesses? No? Well guess what…even if I do someday accomplish what so many only hope to do on Facebook and “go viral”, I’ll be forgotten in a matter of weeks or even days for the newest exciting post. By the way…whatever DID happen with Kony2012?

1) It was often a waste of my time – “Mom! Mom! Look at this!!” … “Just a second honey.”   “Mom come play outside with us.”…. “One moment please!!”   “Mom! Did you see that?!? You missed it mom! I told you to watch me but you’re just on your phone” ……I’ve totally wasted some of the most precious moments of my life behind a screen! On our one on one dates, I wasn’t fully focused on enjoying my child, I was too busy posting about them! During my children’s milestones I didn’t just want to celebrate with them, I wanted to celebrate with the world! Only they didn’t see it that way because all they saw was their mommy staring at her phone instead of at them. I missed out on so much while I was busy posting about all these great moments. I wasted so much time checking likes and comments, which never fulfilled me anyway. And I wish some of the time I could go back and change those moments.

Life on social media is not always what it seems. When we put our phones down and actually hang out with our friends we begin to see their reality: Their kids have temper tantrums too! Their marriage isn’t as perfect as we thought it was. Those nice “expensive” clothes they always wear, were actually second hand. They also burn supper sometimes and their house usually looks messier than a garbage dump! We don’t see these things on Facebook, but we DO see them when real, authentic friendships are formed and that’s why it’s so important that much of our time is spent with our phones put away.

My life’s far from perfect, and so is yours…I just needed the reminder today and thought I’d share in case you did too 🙂

 

 

Just Keep it to Yourself

Yesterday I was at the grocery store with three of my children. My youngest who’s three, usually sits in the cart to save me from a lot of chaos in the store as he’s a runner. This time however, he begged to walk beside me and I knew that I would have a full cart so I let him. Sure enough he was constantly running from me so I tried my best to finish up shopping quickly. I had so much food that I had to carry a bag in one hand and push the cart with the other…and with our family of seven, all that food only lasts for a week!

I realized my dilemma while leaving the store: a running three-year old, a busy parking lot…so I stopped before exiting the doors and very seriously explained to Emerson that he needed to hold on to the cart and not run as there were cars driving all around and it was dangerous. He nodded and his cute, pudgy little fingers curled around the side of the cart. We walked together into the lot, my older children right behind me, Emerson beside me and he was listening great!

But then he saw our van and he BOLTED towards it.

What his three-year old eyes didn’t see was that the van right next to ours was beginning to back out of its spot and was headed right for him. Obviously the driver couldn’t see him because of his size and I immediately let go of my cart and my groceries and ran toward him screaming his name. The van screeched to a halt a split second before hitting my little boy. By now I was in tears, Emerson was in tears and I picked him up scolding him, hugging him, and kissing him. The young lady who was driving got out, thinking that she had already hit my son, and I assured her that it wasn’t her fault and that my son was fine. She told me that hearing my scream had stopped her.

The groceries were left on the van and the counter when we got home, I simply held my precious boy. My day could’ve looked a lot different. It could’ve ended with losing him, with mourning, with funeral arrangements. But by the grace of God I get to hold him close.

In fact this is just one of MANY “close” calls I’ve had with my five kids. I could tell you about the time my oldest got lost at a park with a big pond when he was just a toddler…I was certain he had drowned. Or the time a tractor with a pull behind swather unexpectedly passed by the field beside our house while my child and his kittens were playing on it…the kittens both died, my son got out of the way just in time. I have often thanked God for the hand of protection he’s had over my children because as hard as I try, I can’t ALWAYS be there.

A generation ago people understood this. People understood that most parents would die for their children and would never put their children in a situation where harm would come to them. Previous generations comforted and cared for parents when there was loss. They understood that as hard as we try to protect our children, accidents happen. Tragedy strikes and NO ONE is to blame. They understood that the death of a child is not the time to start spewing off “whose fault it is” or “safety precautions” or most definitely not the time to start the dreaded “I would’ve never” speech.

Enter social media: a superficial platform of entitled millennials hidden behind the safety of a screen. Where internet trolls and cold-hearted foe really care less about the child or the family’s loss and pain, but they come for the newest story to comment on. Where perfect parents abound and are ready to spew their fountain of knowledge in the form of hateful comments at any and every tragic news story. If a child slips from their parents grasp and falls into a gorilla cage at the zoo, these vultures are there screaming out comments like “they should’ve shot the mother instead of the gorilla!” When a child drowns, “Where was that mother? She should be charged…I would never let…” blah, blah, blah.

The mother should be shot? For taking her kids to a zoo? She should be charged? With what, may I ask? For having the worst flippin’ day in her entire life? For not being Captain America? What would this help the world? Would it bring justice? Would it bring her beloved child back? Would it “teach” her or anyone else a lesson?

Actually, yes…it would teach us all a lesson! You know what it would teach us? That in our moment of greatest need, tragedy and pain, people are nothing more than a ruthless mob, thirsty for more blood. It would teach us that what we all fear the most is true, no one really cares…we just want someone to blame. And you, the mother are the easiest target.

And it’s not just the commentators, it’s also the “professionals” and the “officers” that feel inclined to comment at the end of every news article things such as “this is a reminder to all of us to keep young children in arms reach when near bodies of water” or “seat-belts aren’t just there as a suggestion, they are there to protect your life!” Now, I’m not saying these things shouldn’t be said, but people, there is a time and a place! And using someone’s tragedy as a platform to spout safety rules is not the time nor the place!!!

I want to finish this by sharing a heartfelt Facebook post written by a Mother who suffered an unimaginable tragedy. I asked Ashley if I could share what she wrote with my readers because the attacks on Mothers in their moments of greatest pain needs to STOP! She wrote:

“As some of you know, I have gone through every mother’s worst fear. On June 2nd, I lost my youngest son in a horrible car accident. I was driving. I had pulled away from a gas station, checking each buckle, and I began to drive the curvy, mountainous road to my family’s house. My son was notorious for doing everything he could to unbuckle in the car…We tried five point harness seats, boosters, I believe even zip ties at one point (probably not safe either) but he always viewed it as a superhero challenge. He was a superhero because he always succeeded. On average, I would usually pull over three or four times on any given trip to firmly make him buckle up again. We were only five minutes out when a large rock rolled into my lane. I had three choices: try to straddle the rock, move to the oncoming lane which was a double line large curve with an angry river at the other side. Rock, head on collision, river. I chose the rock. I chose wrong. And yes, he had already unbuckled along with his 8 year old brother. (They were switching spots and I didn’t know.) The rock hit my axle, and sent us plummeting into the side of a cliff. Our 13 passenger van rolled and my son was instantly gone. Our lives were instantly ripped apart. The little boy who had been my pride and joy was cruelly taken from me in a matter of seconds. I remember being smashed between my console (no airbag engaged) and our three ton van. I had blood everywhere. I fought and fought and then blacked out. When I awoke, I was unbuckling my baby from her car seat (she was upside down) and working to get each child (5 of my children were with me) out of the van. When I came to Titus I worked with all my might to lift the heavy van off his tiny body. My 8 year old son was trying to help me. I could only see the lower half of his body. I rubbed his tummy and tried gentle compressions. But he was already gone. It was instantaneous, which only brings me comfort because I know he felt no pain. What followed was a blur. I refused treatment from the paramedics until they let me hold my dead son. All my children were whipped away and taken to an ambulance to be cared for. I was life flighted and sedated, for the shock made me inconsolable. It was two days later that I saw it all over Facebook. A news report reporting the death of my child as if they were reporting that the weather might change, or a new planet had been discovered. I was thankful they reported that no drugs or alcohol had been a factor. But that’s not what hurt. The readers commented the cruelest things about how horrible of a mother I was. How I deserved it. How my children should be taken from me. I wanted to punch them, shake them. Tell them how close we were, how hard I fought to keep him safe. How we had a special good night kiss and a designated McDonald’s date each week. I wanted to scream that he always told me he wanted to marry me, that I was the best mama ever. That he built me Lego ships, took naps in my bed while holding my hand with his dimpled little fingers…”

People, this is NOT okay! This NEEDS to stop. We brag about how far we’ve come from ancient times, on how accepting we are as a society, on how compassionate we are and then we turn and rip those hurting among us to tiny shreds! Instead of rescuing those who are drowning in sorrow we pull them down the whole way to make sure they don’t get back up! And it happens to EVERY SINGLE FAMILY that ends up in the news.

I don’t ask you to do this often but if you’re reading this, I’d like you to share it… because it seems that my generation needs to be reminded of something that was once just normal etiquette: when tragedy strikes, when someone loses a child, when there is a difficult situation of loss, or pain…if you can’t give any word of encouragement, love or comfort…then please, for heavens sake, do everyone a favour and keep it to yourself!

#MomGuilt

From the moment I saw the hash tag “mom guilt”, it bugged me. Another real, deep life issue had just been turned into a clever marketing scheme…and I didn’t like it! I still don’t like it. Businesses are doing it more and more often and it’s very clever indeed! Advertisements are playing on our emotions and they stay in our memories…but in the end they do absolutely nothing to address or help the deep ache inside that mothers really feel every single day: Guilt for doing their absolute best!

Telling a mom, “Just don’t feel guilty about it, you’ve done your best!” does absolutely nothing to heal the self-condemnation many woman feel day after day after day. Turning it into a light-hearted joke may temporarily ease the pain but in the end, mom-guilt is very, incredibly real and it comes from deep within causing restless nights and illegitimate worries. It causes outbursts from insecurities of our intentions and abilities. It brings many into depression. It causes some to give up and check out emotionally on their children.

Where we started motherhood gazing with wonder into the beautiful faces of our newborns, motherhood slowly turns into an endless checklist of chores, appointments, and things to remember.

It wasn’t meant to be this way. But it is.

There was such hope for SO MUCH MORE!! But that hope just seems to fade a bit more everyday, until we check ourselves out of the mothering day as soon as our little ones are in bed, exhausted from the pressure and stress we were never meant to feel in the first place.

Real Mom-guilt story: When I was 6 months pregnant with my third child, I went on a marriage retreat with my husband. It was winter and there was a hot tub at the event. Now, being very self-conscious about my body at that point in my life and during that stage of pregnancy, I really did not want to go in. First of all, because I knew I really shouldn’t for the baby’s sake but also because I was too embarrassed! It so happened that a nurse was along on the trip and she casually mentioned that as long as I was comfortable and stayed in a short time, it was totally ok. So one evening, I went out to the hot tub with my husband when no one else was around. It was really cold, so my plan of just putting in my feet a few minutes quickly changed to me plopping myself down fully emerged in the very hot water. After ten minutes, I started to feel uncomfortable so I stood to get out, but as I stood a huge group of people came out to join us and I awkwardly plopped back down because I was totally self-conscious in my swimsuit. I sat there for another painful twenty minutes until I realized I was feeling very sick and got out anyways. The next few days I was physically sick as a result of this and I kicked myself for it…for caring so much about my appearance that I would put my own health and my baby’s health in jeopardy…but that wasn’t the worst part of it: I felt like the dumbest, most selfish mother on the planet and I worried for the next three months constantly that I had done something that would cause permanent damage to my baby.

You know what’s the craziest part of this all? My son is now eight years old and that memory still haunts me. Because my boy has trouble making friends, he has difficulty controlling his emotions, he tiptoes when he walks and deep down, I blame MYSELF. Every. Single. Day. Is there something wrong with him? Are the issues in his life a result of that one poor choice? Probably not! But I don’t know for sure…I never will. And it haunts me. And this is just one example of the hundreds of ways we Mothers feel guilt!

When I hear my children yelling at each other… it must be my fault for once in a while yelling at them.

When I see my children use bad table manners…it’s probably my fault because I haven’t trained them properly.

When they get sick…I should’ve not let them go outside without their jacket!

If they say something awkward…my fault, I’m homeschooling, they probably don’t get out enough.

If they’re all over tired, fighting and throwing tantrums…my fault, we’re probably too busy and not at home enough.

When we leave them at childcare or crying with a sitter…I am a failure, I can’t even be there for them.

If my boy pees his pants and I forgot extra clothes…I’m such a horrible mom.

It goes on and on and on and ON!

I have personally talked with mothers of kids who have disabilities who blame THEMSELVES!! It’s not their fault! It’s obviously not! But still the nagging, taunting dark questions plague their minds: Maybe I have bad genes, I shouldn’t have had children…Maybe I ate something wrong…Maybe the immunizations did it. Maybe I wasn’t there for them enough…maybe….

REALLY?!?

As if our children were just these flawless, perfect little angels sent straight from heaven, with only the purest of nature, and holiest of thoughts and somehow we RUINED them.

But this is REAL, and it’s deep. And it’s a lie that needs to be addressed head on! I’m sorry to say that there’s no quick solution to this. I can’t just go and tell all the mom’s in the world, “Oh it’s not your fault” and end all the guilt…because sometimes it IS our faults. And as grown ups we need to be responsible and admit when it is. Yet as mothers we can’t separate our failures from what’s actually just our children’s human nature.

But here’s the best steps I could come up with to help heal and move past the guilt that plagues us mothers:

  1. You will make mistakes. Big ones! Don’t waste ONE minute wallowing in “what if’s”…instead use that time to make positive changes. Change your habits. Get help. Ask for forgiveness! You can not change the past, but you can learn from it and change the future.
  2. Your child WILL make mistakes…even if you’ve trained them the right way… because they’re HUMAN. Their choices are NOT your fault.
  3. Be careful of the influences in your child’s life. Friends, caregivers, and media will play the biggest role in their values and who they become. Chose caregivers wisely, allow only good media in your home and encourage positive friendships. If you find out that you’ve made a mistake in one of these areas, do your best to make changes…but remember the first “rule”!
  4. Spend your time wisely and find a balance. Your messy house isn’t a big deal…your kids will NOT remember it. But use your time wisely – if it’s really messy because of hours spent on social media, or Netflix bingeing, take time to develop a balanced schedule of “me” time, “together” time, and “clean” time. Just don’t be so “responsible” that you forget to enjoy life. You will NEVER regret the time you spend just enjoying your children.
  5. DON’T worry about the small things…feeding your children McDonald’s won’t kill them, letting them watch an extra hour of T.V. will not ruin their lives, taking a year off from extra curricular activities will not ruin their chances of playing sports or learning an instrument someday, throwing a simple family birthday party will not damage their future. Life is so much bigger than the type of lotions you buy for your kids or the clothes they wear. Please just don’t go down this trail!! Use your best judgement and respectfully block out unwanted advice!

But above all, learn to accept GRACE. God has unending grace for our shortcomings. Receive this grace. Let it pour into your heart and mind until you can not help but have grace for yourself, your kids, and everyone else around you. God’s grace heals, restores and brings hope to EVERY hopeless situation.

The guilt…it doesn’t go away over night…but it does get better. And when you live your life out of a standpoint of grace, you will begin to see the truth: Mother’s are the first and best gift that any child ever recieves… and to your children there is only one YOU!

YOU are the PERFECT mother for your child! Embrace this and you will find much freedom from that dreaded, ugly #Momguilt.

When Children Grow Up too Soon

I have a girl who’s almost 10. That’s her in the picture at the darling age of 3. She is an excellent reader and extremely mature for her age. Now, seeing that her books were getting far too easy for her reading level, I went in search of something that would challenge her. First I tried the “Chronicles of Narnia” series. She found them boring (as I had at her age, but to be fair to the series, I only read the first couple chapters of the first book.), then I tried a series called “Heros of the Faith”, which she absolutely loved. The first books are so interesting, yet as the series goes on the books are hit and miss. So Bella lost interest after reading two in a row that weren’t as exciting. Then finally I gave in and let her read my “Mark of the Lion” series by Francine Rivers, after all, I had read them around 11 or 12 years old. She loved these books so much that she sat in her room for days reading them! She finished them in three days (I was surprised because they are REALLY thick!)

All was good until one day, I scanned through the books again since it had been years since I’ve read them…and my heart dropped. These books may have been right at her reading level, but they were far, FAR to mature for her.

I may have forgotten the content, but I realized right there and then that I had I completely failed my girl by giving her the books. It was my responsibility to scan through before giving them to her and now she had already read them. I felt terrible! If you’ve never read the series, these extremely well-written books have quite a bit of history in them and take place in the years following Christ’s death. The setting is in Rome and the Romans are more bloodthirsty than ever. Terrible persecution is happening to the Christians and the Jews. The Colosseum is at its height in entertainment. People are starving while the rich feast away watching their deaths. The tale includes ongoing wars and slavery which also comes with gladiators, rape and temple prostitution…now your probably wondering why anyone should ever read it! Great book for a nine-year old girl hey?

So I went and apologized to her, letting her know that I was wrong in taking away some of her innocence by allowing her to read those books. Her response? “Oh Mom! That’s okay, I could handle it.”

Tears welled up in my eyes, for the words were far too familiar to me. Of course she could handle it! But just because she could, doesn’t mean she should.

Throughout ancient history and in some places even now, girls have been taken to be brides at ages not much older than my little girl. They become mothers as young teens and grow up with their children. Could they handle it? Sure, most of the time, I guess they could…they were forced to! But that doesn’t mean that a 13-year-old girl should have to take on such a heavy load of managing a household!

The same goes for children who are orphaned in third world countries. Overnight the oldest child becomes a caregiver to his or her siblings. They care far too deeply about their little brothers and sisters to do otherwise. And often, given the conditions they are living in, they do a better job than I would be able to do – fetching water, gathering food, earning a few dollars a day all while carrying a baby on their back.

And we cry when we hear these stories because they shouldn’t have to bear such a heavy load! They shouldn’t have to grow up so soon! They have a whole adult life ahead of them to “handle it”, they should be able to be just kids for a little while.

My daughter Bella, she’s a beautiful young girl…but of all my children she grew up the fastest. And with a house full of babies I did not complain. She talked in full sentences before any of my other babies could even say ten words. She walked the earliest. She could read before she was in kindergarten. She’s been the first to ask the hard questions. She gives in before anyone else will. I get it! She’s always been ready to be older than she is. And being my only girl, it’s difficult for me to let go of the innocence in her, to watch her grow. But it’s one thing to let go and let her mature, it’s quite another to realize when I’ve sped up the process.

I was the same as she was, always reading things, learning things, watching things way before I should have. I enjoyed knowing. I always could handle it well (or so I thought).

But man, I wish I hadn’t.

I rushed my childhood away, my innocence away before it’s time and I missed out on friendships. My favorite teddy lay in my closet, hidden away lest my friends would see that I still liked it. I missed out on playing with my last doll who sat in the corner watching me try to be older than I was. I missed out on the Polly Pockets which I sold at a garage sale just a couple of years before I was really ready to let them go. I missed the youth events with innocent, good fun and laughter. I missed out on much of my youth and I regret it because I can’t get those years back. I had my whole life ahead of me to be strong, why did I choose to grow up so young?

Sweet little daughter, take your time. Don’t rush the process and don’t slow it down either…let your maturity run its course. Adulthood will come and you can and should take on your responsibilities when it does. I know you’ll do great, I know you’ll handle life well.

But for a little while longer, just be my little girl.

The Power of the Tongue

“No one ever wants me around because of you guys!”

Those were the words I spoke to my children the one day when I was frustrated by their behaviour. Immediately I regretted them. For they were not true, they were deeply hurtful, and I could not take them back…I could only apologize. And apologize I did, but I knew that those words were still there, in the minds of my children.

And the truth is that those words didn’t come out because of my kids actions. Those words came because of my undealt with pain. They came out from my heart, where deep within, I have experienced rejection, hurt and judgement which was linked to me being a young mom and also having a big family.

Yes… I felt rejected by my friends when I became a mom. And although I chose to let go of some of my friends because of other reasons, some of them quietly disappeared from my life as I slipped into a different stage of life than them: Motherhood.

I was 18, a child myself, and my three month old baby had just been admitted into the Children’s Hospital, he was sick. Very sick. And many times that first week I thought we were going to lose him. I lived off of 2 hours of sleep or less a night and the hours I was awake I was in constant fear and stress. I felt like I had failed my son. I wondered if he was sick because of me, or my lack of knowlegde in parenting. I wondered why they couldn’t find out what was wrong with him. And I watched them poke him every hour for blood. I watched them dig IV after IV into his arms, legs, and head knowing that even if they were successful in a few hours the tiny vain would collapse and they would have to do it all over again. We lived at the hospital for six long months. And the pain of watching him suffer was unimaginable. It took all of my attention and all of my energy.

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But there was another pain…during my sons entire six month hospital stay, only TWO of my high school friends bothered to stop by. The rest had forgotten me. Oh we had lots of support… family, new church friends…but MY friends, they were gone. And because I had so many other things to deal with at that time, I swallowed the pain and tried to forget the fact that becoming a mother meant loneliness.

Time and time again, I pushed down painful things said to me, like the time one of my friends called me just two days after I had my third baby, asking if I could come to her show that evening. I told her that I’d love to see her but I couldn’t, because I had just had a baby. She got upset at me and never called again.

Or the time after I had four kids, when one woman told me that she would love to have my family down if we weren’t so big.

And that time I excitedly announced my pregnancy to someone who instead of congratulating me, informed me that she didn’t think she would be able to watch ALL of my kids. I was hurt that this was the first response that came to her mind, as I rarely asked her anyways.

Words! The rejection of them sting. And here they laid dormant in my heart, not held against those who said them, but rather my own precious children…who had absolutely nothing to do with them! The wounds caused by these careless words hadn’t been dealt with properly and as a result, I began to inwardly blame my kids for all the friends I had lost. For every time I wasn’t invited. For those lonely moments where I realised that we weren’t welcome somewhere because of them. And that day, I spoke very hurtful and careless words that may someday sit in their little hearts, needing to be healed.

“The tongue has the power of life and death, and those who love it will eat its fruit.” Proverbs 18:21

I sometimes wonder why our words hold so much power. Why we’ve been given such a powerful gift, to speak life and death. And I wonder how many careless words I’ve spewed, which I will someday be held accountable for…

How many words have I spoken to my husband or kids that will sit in the back of their hearts, only to come out in times completely unexpected and unrelated to me?

Our words can really hurt! And they can cause huge damage! I’m sure every one of us still remembers the sting of at least one hurtful word said to us on the playground at school or at home with our parents or siblings. And the problem with the tongue is that no one has complete power to tame it. No one can completely watch what they say one hundred percent of the time:

“…the tongue is a small part of the body, but it boasts of great things. Consider how small a spark sets a great forest on fire. The tongue also is a fire, a world of wickedness among the parts of the body. It pollutes the whole person, sets the course of his life on fire, and is itself set on fire by hell. All kinds of animals, birds, reptiles, and creatures of the sea are being tamed and have been tamed by man, but no man can tame the tongue. It is an unruly evil, full of deadly poison. With the tongue we bless our Lord and Father, and with it we curse men, who have been made in God’s likeness. Out of the same mouth come blessing and cursing…” James 3:5-10

So does this mean all is hopeless? No one can tame the tongue, so we should all just give up trying?

Not at all!

Our words reveal our hearts, there’s a verse in the bible that says: “Out of the overflow of the heart, the mouth speaks.”

This verse is saying that as long as we’re holding on to our pride, anger, bitterness, self-pity, or frustration our words will in fact reflect these things and bring death to those around us.

But if my heart is alive with love, joy, humility, peace, patience and kindness my words will bring life.

This means there’s GREAT hope. Because while there may not be a way to control our tongues the way we’d like, there IS a way to get rid of the hurt and the lies we hold in our hearts. We can break every lie with truth!

So when my thoughts start going in that downward spiral, when I feel like everyone has abandoned me, I can say “NO! That’s not true! We have MANY new friends who invited us over and enjoy being with us, not just in spite of our children but BECAUSE of the connection our children have given us!” and I can choose to let go of the pain of rejection, of holding on to friends that have moved on without me and I can rather embrace and thank God for the new friends and blessings he is pouring into our lives.

Taking every thought captive is work. It’s HARD work. Because sometimes I just want to curl up into a ball in cry and feel sorry for myself. And sometimes I do. But I have to tell you it’s SO worth it. Because when your words start bringing life and healing, not only will others love being around you, YOUR heart will be filled with joy because your words are reflecting it. And that is the kind of fruit I want to eat.

 

 

 

The Day I Adopted my Own Children

As the little girl climbed onto my lap, I could tell she was from a foster home, probably recently placed there I thought. She had a certain essence about her that I can’t quite explain. You could feel it coming from her very being – a longing to belong, a longing for love. It is so distinct in the really little ones, it’s much more than just a friendly kid. She clung to me, a stranger, because she supposed to cling. It’s how children are made. Naturally they choose their mothers, yet when that relationship is broken they will find the connection they crave somewhere else. I gently stroked her little arm and noticed the rash, I could tell it went beyond her arms. She scratched at it and my heart broke for her.

He acts up every time he’s with his peers. He’s the one that seems to not care what anyone thinks, the one that all the teachers have their eye on from the moment he walks in the room. They blame him before he’s really even done anything because by the time he has, he’s already completely out of hand. The leaders strictly order him around, and he barely listens, apparently because he doesn’t care about authority. But I know better, I know he has had a HARD life. I know he has been abandoned by his own father and mother. And really, he cares more than any other kid in the room what the leaders think of him. Because he’s hungry for love…you can feel the yearning from across the room. He’s seeking attention he never gets anywhere else.

I love children. I’ve loved them for as long as I can remember. Even in my most selfish, hardened teenage years, I found children impossible to resist. I loved all children, but I REALLY loved children who needed the extra love. Those from broken homes, those neglected, those who were rejected by peers, those who acted out in their pain, those who struggled with authority. THOSE are the ones who had my heart, THOSE are the ones I wanted to help… “The least of these” the bible calls them.

Some people don’t like kids. They find them annoying and gross. However when these people who dislike kids have their own, often I see something magical happen – they fall in love. Parents can’t help but admitting to having a special love for their own children. It’s normal, it’s how we’re wired. So naturally, being someone who already LOVES children, I figured that I would be an amazing mom someday because my love would be that much stronger for my own kids! It took a long time for me to realize that it wasn’t that simple.

One day, as I was racing around my house doing all the little things that needed to get done before starting school that morning, my two-year old boy was crying at my feet. Ok, more like tugging and screaming. I sighed, very annoyed because I knew from experience that he would continue to cry and cry for me until I stopped everything I was doing to hold him in my arms. And as I sat down on the couch holding him with resent in my heart because this child was keeping me from my “more important duties” the realization struck me like a brick in the face:

I have far more compassion for everyone else’s children then my own flesh and blood.

The realization shocked me. Why do I have so much more love for other people’s children, difficult children even, than my own precious kids? What is wrong with me? Aren’t most people opposite? And even more starling to me was when my five-year old sat down beside me, he snuggled up close and as I slowly pulled him in to stroke his arm I noticed the rash. How long has THAT been there? I wondered. How in the world did I notice and care so much about the rash on the little girl in the nursery at church and not on my own son? Do I ignore them that much? Or was this hitting something deeper?

Throughout the next few days I realized the problem. You see I didn’t choose to have kids the way many people do. They came into my life when I wasn’t ready for them. From my first pregnancy when I was only seventeen years old, to my fifth child when I was 25. I hadn’t chosen to be a mother to them, it was simply a responsibility I’d been given. And, little by little, I was giving myself to serve and love these children who “had it all.” They are from a good home, they have had everything they need and more. They didn’t act out because of some need that wasn’t being met, they acted out because they were just being kids. And here I was, stuck in what I felt was a “lower” calling: Mothering my own children. Because where is the respect in THAT? It’s nothing special! Is it? I’m just doing what’s expected of me! I’m just doing my duty!

Now raising the unwanted – the difficult, the sick, the neglected, the abused, that’s a more worthy calling!

Or is it?

This calling of motherhood. It wasn’t as heroic, it wasn’t as fascinating, it wasn’t different or extraordinary. It came with stretch marks and back troubles. It meant patience with kids who’ve always had everything they need.

It meant letting go of the idea that the call to “missions” is any different then the call to “motherhood”.

Because here really lies the problem: we Christians (really I’m talking about myself here) have a certain pedestal we put people on…that the young man who leaves his home and family, who sells his possessions to bring the gospel to the nations is obviously FAR more spiritual then the one who takes a wife, and builds a home, who has a family and provides for them. We do this all the time. And we need to STOP. I need to stop believing this crap.

It’s garbage, really.

You know what is really spiritual? Following God wholeheartedly whether he chooses for you to be a king…or a shepherd boy, a ruler…or a servant, a missionary…or a fisherman, a person who rescues abandoned children and starts an orphanage…or a mother. Because the ONLY calling that is heroic is following the one that God gives you. EVEN if you didn’t choose it. EVEN if it just sort of happened.

I was given five children, even if I didn’t choose them. But today I am adopting them into my heart. I choose each one of them because they each have a huge need that only I can fill. They need a mother who has chosen them.

And that my friends is a high calling. Not just because of what I’m doing, but because of the One who called me.