Those With Young

The Journey...a (almost) typical day in the life

Just for fun, and a little humor, I want to share with you the detailed account of one of my actual days this week. Days like this one prove to me what God shared with me a while back: Time with God isn't necessarily easier when your kids are past the pre-school age. All of life has its ups and downs and hills and valleys. The relationship we build with God has to be more solid than a time slot or a checklist. There are some days that my flare prayers are as good as it gets. I just spend the whole day reminding myself how much I need the Lord to survive - and not kill anyone.

So, enjoy! You can go ahead and laugh. I won't mind. :)

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The day begins (sorta) at 5:30 a.m. My alarm goes off and I hit snooze.

The alarm goes off again at 5:35, and I hit snooze.

The alarm goes off again at 5:40, 5:45, 5:50, 5:55, 6:00, and 6:05 before I actually get up.

My exercise aspirations were conquered once again by my love for flannel sheets and heated mattress covers.

6:07 a.m. I hit the shower AND wash my hair for the first time since...um...I think Wednesday. Isn't that gross?

6:30 a.m. Emerge from my room, dressed and ready to conquer - oh who am I kidding?! ready for coffee!

6:34 a.m. Sit down at the couch with coffee and spend some time talking to God about having a heart that is hungry for him...begin forming outlines and notes for the beginnings of a Bible Study curriculum (six week study) that I'm really excited about.

6:56 a.m. Try to wake up sons #1 and 2.

6:58 a.m. Go back to couch and keep working.

7:03 a.m. Try to wake up sons #1 and 2.

7:07 a.m. Try to wake up sons #3 and 4.

7:08 a.m. Try to wake up sons #1 and 2.

Is it Groundhog Day again?

7:10 a.m. Son #3 emerges from his room in a school uniform and lets loose his croupy cough while complaining how sore his throat is.

7:12 a.m. Son #2 emerges from his room in a school uniform with a bright red eye, complaining how sore his throat is.

7:15 a.m. inspect throats under the kitchen light and decide that two kiddos will be staying home from school.

7:21 a.m. Make sure son #1, still wrapped in a towel, realizes that his ride is leaving in four minutes.

7:26 a.m. Make sure son #1, who is still barefoot realizes that his ride is leaving in two minutes.

7:30 a.m. Separate son #4 from two stray puppies in the yard and drag kids to the van.

7:49 a.m. Return home and get out cereal.

8:00 a.m. Begin working.

8:10 a.m. Settle a fight about whether my very sick kids will be watching T.V. or playing the Wii.

8:12 a.m. Son #2 has "broken" #4's leg and he is forced to crawl with muffled cries across the living room while I silently shush him. I have a customer on the phone.

9:30 a.m. Begin working on headache customer's issue.

10:00 a.m. Still working on headache customer's issue.

10:10 a.m. Tell God that this day is just too much for me and ask for strength.

10:30 a.m. Still working on headache customer's issue. Realize that sons 1-3 have drug a bed mattress right behind me, all the way down the stairs and are jumping off the stairs onto it. They are oh, so sick.

11:00 a.m. Remind boys that they need to be dressed to go to the doctor.

11:15 a.m. Still working on headache customer's issue. Remind boys again that they need to get dressed. They have progressed from their pajamas to running around in their underwear with their t-shirts tied into bikini tops. There is something very wrong with this picture.

11:28 a.m. Finish headache customer's issue and threaten to leave the boys while I go to their doctor's appointment by myself. ( I know. Great threat.) They are still barefoot.

11:34 a.m. Leave home for the 11:30 a.m. doctor's appointment.

12:00 noon Doctor informs me that even though I waited five days this time to come in with the kids, it is still indeed viral, and my trip was pointless.

12:15 p.m.. Get in line at the post office.

12:25 p.m. Still in line at the post office.

12:30 p.m. Still in line at the post office.

12:35 p.m. Postal worker wheels out a cart of packages for me. That has never happened. I have never had that many packages.

12:40 p.m. Dump packages in van, return cart to post office lobby, and answer questions for a gentlemen about dropping off an express package, since I clearly work for the post office.

12:45 p.m. Call a friend and admit a dire need for help.

12:50 p.m. Drop son #4 off for afternoon kindergarten...that started at 12:15 p.m. Let his teacher know, that I, again, will not be back at 2:00, to fill my volunteer time slot.

1:00 p.m. Give lunch instructions to boys 2 and 3 and get back to work.

1:30 p.m. Tell boys that they are going to their own rooms and their own beds and not coming out until we leave to pick up #1 and 4 from school.

1:35 p.m. Tell son #3 to go back to his room.

1:40 p.m. Tell son #2 to go back to his room.

1:45 p.m. Tell son #3 to go back to his room.

1:50 p.m. Tell son #2 to go back to his room.

2:00 p.m. Son #1 calls to say that he can't go to study hall after school. It is canceled. He has to be off campus by 3:00.

2:02 p.m. Pretend not to notice that son #3 has left his room again, and is in the bathroom. again.

2:25 p.m. Finally allow sons 2 and 3 to be in the same room together if they keep the door closed and play quietly.

3:07 p.m. Realize that I forgot to pick up son #1 because he texts me to find out how close I am. I ask him to start walking to the other boys' school.

3:08 p.m. Son #2 has "broken" son #3's hip. He is resorted to army crawling - no army dragging across the dining room tile. He cannot walk.

3:10 p.m. Get in the van and wait for the crippled child to run to the van and get in.

3:12 p.m. Lose it with my kids! It was brewing for a while. Sigh.

3:20 p.m. Pick up #4 from kindergarten. Never saw #1 on the way. He must have walked a different route.

3:30 p.m. Lose #'s 2-4 on the playground...no, they're not on the playground! That is why they are lost. They are oh, so sick.

3:35 p.m. Breathe for five minutes on the school sidewalk and chat with a friend about our woes of helping boys learn to read.

3:40 p.m. Son #1 makes it to the school. Still haven't found #'s 2-4.

3:55 p.m. Get mail from mailbox at house. Open not 1, not 2, not 3, but 4 IDENTICAL letters from Citi Financial expressing their regret that I turned down their offer of a loan at 31.99% to pay off my lower interest credit cards and letting me know that they are still there for me, should I change my mind. Seriously? Who makes this stuff up?

4:00 p.m. Make it home with all four boys, make chore lists, and give snack choices. Head back to work.

4:10 p.m. Turn off t.v. and remind them of their chore lists.

4:20 p.m. Give permission for boys 2-4 to go play with friends after they have finished their chores and have a snack if they want it. They need to be home by 5:00.

4:45 p.m. Illustrate seven different back exercises and stretches for son #1 who has hurt his back somehow. I'm tempted to think it is related to his assigned chore.

4:57 p.m. Listen to son #1 explain that the reason his backpack smells like a tree is because two precious boys at school doused it with Axe body spray and attempted to set it on fire with a lighter.

5:12 p.m. Boys return and ask for a snack. They "didn't get one!" Stand by my guns. Snack time is over.

5:14 p.m. Listened to voice mail from my best friend. MISSED HER CALL!!!...somewhere in the snack time whining.

5:15 p.m. Warn the boys that we are leaving for church in 15 minutes.

5:25 p.m. Touch up makeup, grab drinks for potluck.

5:30 p.m. Get in the van and threaten to leave the barefoot children home alone. Pfff! Another good one.

5:38 p.m. Leave home and pick up Bill from work. Spend our 20 minutes for the entire day trying to catch up on what is going on. I tell Bill, "You don't want to know about my day. I'll just spare you." Finally break and highlight doctor's visits, kids running off at school, and headache customer.

6:00 p.m. Get to church and enjoy potluck.

6:15 p.m. Call #2 back from trying to get more dessert.

6:17 p.m. Call #3 back from trying to get more dessert.

6:19 p.m. Call #4 back from trying to get more dessert.

6:23 p.m. #2 escapes and gets more dessert.

6:25 p.m. Oh, glorious hallelujah!!! Childcare is open!!!! Two glorious hours of encouragement and talk on discipleship, and heart-searching, and prayer time and watch Louie Giglio's How Great is Our God and let God's greatness and magnificence pour over me. I soak in every glorious drop of encouragement.

8:30 p.m. Visit with friends and oogle over babies and head home.

8:40 p.m. Listen to voice mail from afore mentioned friend. She's on it!

8:45 p.m. Respond to whining kids in the van who "didn't get any dessert."

8:53 p.m. Miss the exit to get Bill's truck from work and have to turn around and go back.

9:10 p.m. Get home. Respond to whining about wanting stories.

9:15 p.m. Do dishes. Scrape avocado and smashed banana off the counter. Pick up bread crusts and spilled orange yogurt off the floor. Wash the floor.

9:40 p.m. Make hot tea. Sit down to watch the last 20 minutes of one of our favorite shows.

9:43 p.m. Catch a glimpse of my beautiful basket of Valentine verses on the end table and realize that we didn't do our verse today...or yesterday. :(

10:00 p.m. Start opening packages. Oh, yay! There is a tux from a friend for #3 to wear in Brother #2's wedding!!! Shirt and all!

11:00 p.m. Spend and hour blogging about my day. Don't I have better things to do?

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Happy Valentine's Day! Get off the computer and go kiss your honey!

...and if you'd like something more spiritual to read, go here! :D

Great Marriage Books...I've found along "The Journey"

This week's topic has generated some interesting discussion and great questions.I kind of feel like this submission topic is sometimes like peeling the layers of an onion. There are so many reasons why we may struggle, and sometimes it takes a while to get to the bottom of it.

It could be that:

1. We just don't like authority, but would rather be in control ourselves.
2. We just don't understand submission.
3. We just flat out don't respect our husband.

Today, I simply want to share with you some great books that have helped me love my husband more and also "love on" my husband more. Maybe one of them will strike a chord with you. I decided to not even go pouring over my bookshelves to look for them. I'm simply going by the ones that changed me enough to stick out in my memory.

P.S. I do like to read. :)

The Power of a Praying Wife by Stormie Omartian, has to be one of the best books I ever bought. Let me tell you why. It is simple, yet profound. Stormie takes 30 topics that are major in a man's life and writes a chapter about them. The first time I went through it, I read the whole book. But this book has been the resource I pull out over and over again.

When my husband is struggling with a certain topic, I can pull out the book, look it up, and remind myself how to pray. Sometimes I just grab it, and look up the chapter for whatever day of the month it is and pray that prayer.

The biggest reason I love this book? Sometimes, especially when you have lots of little ones, your heart is just to exhausted to mentally form the prayers. You know you need to pray, but how? What? There is a certain comfort in those prayers where the spirit simply intercedes for you because you can't even put the words to it. But reading these prayers helps me engage my mind. It reminds me of the truth of God's word, and the truth of our situation. Stormie has written these prayer books for many relationships...she even wrote one for husbands to pray for their wives. Perhaps the pair would be a great valentine investment. :)

Building Your Mate's Self Esteem by Dennis and Barbara Rainey, was like a gift from heaven when it came my way. I found it for a quarter at a Thrift Store, and though, "Why not?" I had no idea, until I started reading it, how much I really needed it. God really opened my eyes to the different ways my husband struggled with self-esteem, and how so many of the things that he struggled with in life were related to that. I really was unaware. If you don't see yourself getting around to reading a book anytime soon, maybe the CD of the Focus on the Family Radio Broadcast will get your heart moving in the right direction.

Then right along those same lines.....

Love & Respect by Dr. Emerson Eggerichs

Wow! Such a simple insight. A wife sees love as love. A husband sees love as respect. You don't respect him? He doesn't feel loved. Its pretty simple really.

I really had no idea how disrespectful I was to my husband before I read this book. I didn't realize the impact some of my words and actions had. It really kind of put the practical touches on how to show him honor and love him on his level. I learned to ask God to help me respect him, when I didn't always find it easy.

The Five Love Languages by Gary Chapman

In the same way that Love & Respect help you understand the general love language of men, The Five Love Languages sheds further insight on how your specific man likes to be shown love - and how you like to be shown love.

I read this book earlier in our marriage. It actually helped me identify how out of touch I was with my own heart. What made me feel loved?

Bill and I discovered that each of our love languages were the one that was most difficult for the other to meet. Bill's love language is touch (not to be confused with sex). You know, like brushing his shoulders when you walk by or rubbing his head, giving lots of hugs, and reaching for his hand in the car. I'm a personal space kind of girl...not really into all that touching. When I first really started working on this (which I'm ashamed to say was several years after reading the book), I honestly had to discipline myself to touch him. Silly, I know. But it just isn't natural for me. It is becoming more natural, though, and it makes all the difference to him.

Knowing your own love language will help you help your husband love you as well. (I say that because I will not assume you can get your husband to read the book, too. If your house is like mine, I give regular book reports and highlight all the main points in a Cliff Notes style for my non-reader husband.) For instance, my love language is quality time. Usually for me, that means conversation. I am married to, perhaps the quietest man on the planet. He really doesn't like talking all that much. I have put him to sleep many times.

It is easy for our spouses to feel "unloved" simply because we are loving them our way, not their way. It can be a fairly simple adjustment once the light bulb comes on and you ask God for lots of help.

Daily Blessings for My Husband by Melody Carlson, has been another one of those worn out mama life savers! It again, has pages of pre-written blessings on a variety of topics. It is almost like having a greeting card store at your disposal. When you know you need to encourage him or apologize or bless him - but you honestly can't think of anything to say...find the right blessing and leave it open and marked on his pillow. Its never failed me yet.

Boundaries in Marriage by Dr. Henry Cloud and Dr. John Townsend, changed my life. I've often been surprised how many people are leery of the Boundaries books. I guess I was a bit too, until I read it. My "leeriness" was based on mis-assumptions. This book helps address many of the questions that are faced in manipulative and abusive relationships. It helps you stop and realize that if all your relationships seem to head the same direction, then maybe it says more about you than it does for everyone else. In a sense, you teach others how to treat you. You may think that sounds controlling, but really, this book helped me see how much I tried to control others by the misuse of boundaries.

If you are looking for an "out" to the whole submission thing, especially if you think your husband is one that God would make an exception for, this book is for you. But watch out! It isn't what you expect.

I've pretty much come to the conclusion that we all have boundaries. It is just a matter of whether or not we tell others what we are. Most of us are guilty of exploding when someone crosses our boundary. We just assumed they should know. We never actually told them.

It is really difficult to describe all the sludge this stirred up in my life, so you may need a dose of courage to crack it open. But I've never met someone that regretted it. Drs. Cloud and Townsend have many amazing books. This is just one.

Sacred Sex by Tim Alan Gardner

Sex is important in marriage....and not just for the man. If you have some hangups in sex that may have to do with spiritual perception or past guilt, this is a great book.

Growing up in a strong Christian home, I knew that sex was supposed to be saved for marriage. I knew that God planned it that way, and I knew it was right. But what I didn't really understand was how beautiful and spiritual he intended it to be. Sex became a big "no, no!" in my mind, because it was forbidden. Unfortunately, I had some serious mental hang-ups when I got married because it is hard to turn off the "no, no!" switch. Sacred Sex opened my eyes to the beauty of sex from a spiritual viewpoint and helped me understand why God created it the way He did.

My Motherhood Journey (part 7)

.........and marriage got hard.

We had only been married about a year and a half. How could the honeymoon be over?

We had never really been through hard times before as a couple, and we didn't know how to react to them. I'm sure my endless months of crying myself to sleep every night over my identity crisis really didn't help the marriage bond. But soon, Bill was laid off - downsized. Our lease was up. Our rent was going up. We couldn't resign the lease because we weren't going to be able to afford the new rent. We couldn't look for a new place because we were unemployed.

Bill's previous chaplaincy position had been fairly flexible around his class schedule. Now what?

Well, here is where mentors step in. A couple in our church, whose children were pretty much grown, had a fairly empty house. They had already taken us under their wings a bit. They invited us out to lunch one day and offered for us to move in with them until we figured things out.

They had two extra bedrooms with a bathroom that joined them. They asked if I could cook for them, so they could start eating better and not waste so much eating out. It was a huge blessing!

Bill did find a job as a delivery driver for a printing company. He worked 50 hours a week or more, to make up for the lost pay from the previous job. He had to change his class schedule to only include night classes. 

So here is how a day would look. Bill would get up and leave about 5:30 in the morning and take the car. If I wanted the car, I needed to wake Clayton (six months old at the time) up and take Bill to work. Bill would be gone, routinely, until 11 p.m. He would work a full day and head to class. He was going to seminary a couple of nights a week. He was going to the community college for night classes as well, trying to update his computer graphic skills in hopes of landing a better job. Weekends were full of studying and paper writing and trying to survive the classes.

I would hang out all day in a big, empty house with our baby. I never saw Bill. When he came home, he was ready for bed or had homework. There was no time for "us."

I don't know how I would have survived without the friends we were living with. They LOVED Clayton. They would walk in the door and grab him and play with him and let me make dinner. They loved on me.

My struggle with self-worth was difficult before, but it multiplied intensely as I allowed the enemy to speak lies to me: "If Bill loved you, he would be around more." "If you were worth loving, he would stay awake to be with you." 

I can't tell you how many times I would have left if I could have. Truth was. Where would I go? I had no money, no car, no job, no college degree, no place to go. I felt trapped.

It was a good kind of trapped, though. The kind where God forces you to face your problems and learn about commitment. The kind where you press further and further into the Lord, because he is the only one you feel you can share your true heart with. How could we be heading into ministry when our marriage was cold? How could we be valuable to God's kingdom when our family was a wreck?

Truth is, we were just two broken people who had come together to form an imperfect marriage. Truth is, that is how most marriages start.

Our wonderful hosts could obviously see some issues. Cindy's mentoring was priceless to me at that point. I cherished conversations at the dining room table with her as she spoke truth to me. Her kindness and gentleness was just the prescription for my broken and selfish heart.

I was doing the only thing I knew to do, I was pouring every ounce of myself into the one that was with me all day and always smiled at me and always wanted to see me and always wanted to play with me: Clayton. He became my life. I built really tall and thick walls around myself and wouldn't let Bill in. It was us against him. I really didn't know how to minister to my husband, so my child became my priority.

Life didn't get better right away, by any means. We had so much to learn. But I can tell your right now, without hesitation, it has been so worth hanging in there! 

Years later, a counselor gave us copies of these books:

 

Oh, how I wish I would have known the stuff in these books 12 years sooner!  So, if you've never read them, please, please, please benefit from my hard-knock life lessons learned! They are a very short, easy read; but full of information worth gold!

I'm praying for you today.

My Motherhood Journey (part 6)

Parts 1-5

I was the oldest of five and the only girl. We had moved around a lot while I growing up. I was always so insecure - not the girl that had a million friends. I was the one that had one really good friend most of the time.

I needed a good friend now that was a mom. I knew how to change diapers and mash bananas, but I didn't know what to do when the nine month old began to have an opinion about something. I needed someone to share my joys of being a mom with. Someone who identified.

God gave me Rynnie. Rynnie and her family were a part of our church. They had a little boy, six months older than ours. Rynnie wasn't much further ahead of me in this mom thing, but she was my complete opposite. She handled every situation differently than I would. She was relaxed and laid back when it came to messes. She "oo-ed" and "ah-ed" over every cute little things our boys would do. She affirmed me, and my son.

Those were the good 'ol days. We were both stay at home moms. We were both one car families. We would talk on the phone 4 or 5 times a day. "Guess what Clayton just did?" "You're not going to believe what Zane just said!" Occasionally, one of us would get up before the rooster and take our husband to work, so we could have a car for the day and actually hang out. Those days were like heaven...a breath of fresh air that would lift my spirits enough to know that I could make it in our little mobile home by myself for another week.

Rynnie taught me to make homemade baby wipes and corn casserole. She taught me to let me kids play in the mud. Oh boy, do I wish I had a scanner to share some pictures!

We would pray together, share God's Word to each other, watch each others' babies, hand down clothes, do meals together, and serve at church together. 

I needed Rynnie's perspective, and I'd like to think she needed mine. God put us together to strengthen each other and lighten each others' load?

Do you have a friend like that in your life? Are you that friend to anyone else?

My Motherhood Journey (part 5)

Parts 1-4

May 19, 1997, was the day that we welcomed our first child into the world. A boy! (I would love to share pictures with you, but I seem to be having scanner issues.) He was perfect in every way. There was no huge fanfare. My mom and my youngest three brothers (5, 9, and 11 at the time) were on their way from Idaho - but Clayton was a week early. We didn't have many close friends yet, but enjoyed a few visitors at the hospital.

I had heard of moms going home from the hospital the next morning or even in twelve hours - or sometimes six. Not me. I was enjoying being taken care of. I was a little afraid. I wasn't so afraid of taking care of a baby. I had done a lot of that with my brothers. But I didn't know how to take care of me.

I didn't expect the painful contractions while nursing. I didn't know how bad the episiotomy would hurt. I couldn't have predicted how vulnerable or emotional I would feel. It was nice to have nurses checking on me and making sure I was o.k. Truth was, I'd been alone in my apartment most of the time for the last month.

Besides that, I was really enjoying the little cocoon of our hospital room where my full-time student + full-time chaplain husband was in my captivity for a couple of days. It was a precious bonding time for our little family.

Bill took a week off, and we brought our little bundle of joy home in his brightly colored, gender-neutral car seat, to his gender neutral bedroom...for see we wanted to be surprised at what we were having. My mom and brothers came to visit. My aunt and cousins came to visit...then my dad flew in. It was really fun for a while. I had someone to help with Clayton when he fussed in the middle of the night....someone to help cook...and always someone to talk to. AND I was no longer laying on my left side all day.

Soon, everyone went home. Bill went back to work. Everything went quiet again....except at 1 a.m.....and  3 a.m.....and 4:30 a.m.

May 31, 1997 (or close thereabouts), I realized my need for quality sleep.

The nice thing about being a stay at home mom with one child is that you can adjust your schedule as needed. I learned to sleep when Clayton slept and shower when I could. It was nice having a job where I could play with a baby all day and call it work.

I learned that I didn't have to read my Bible first thing in the morning. In fact, I'm not sure I saw "first thing in the morning" for a few months. I learned that God was eager to meet with me whatever time  I came with an eager heart. I learned that prayer time is great while pushing a stroller, and that it was just as fun to sing praises with a baby as it was by myself.

But boy, did  I have a lot left to learn!

What about you? What did you learn about yourself in the first couple of weeks of being a new mom? What did you learn about your relationship with God?

My Motherhood Journey (part 4)

Parts 1-3

My addictions to busyness, perfectionism, and accomplishment were being revealed. I didn't see it yet, but the Lord was lovingly exposing them. He was exposing them by removing anything to be busy with...or anything to really accomplish. It would be a long time, however, before they were exposed enough for me to see them.

Just when I thought I couldn't take the boredom and perceived uselessness any longer, I found myself in the hospital emergency room. I was contracting consistently and dilating, but I was only 32 weeks. So guess what the prescription was? Bed rest.

Are you kidding me?

Just a few months before, I had a home town where I knew my way around, my family just a few miles a way, a job I enjoyed and felt a lot of accomplishment from, my own car, and lots of friends. Now I laid on my left side all day until I moved to the bed at night, taking medication that made me shake all over and not able to sleep well.I no longer had to wait for Bill to come home with the car, because I couldn't even go anywhere when he came home.

God was removing my addictions cold turkey and exposing the misery in my soul - misery that couldn't be cured by activity and accomplishment, but it could certainly be hidden and delayed.

Day after day I laid there and day after day He offered to pour into me. I read parenting books, watched t.v., and embroidered baby bibs. I also read my Bible, talked to God, and memorized Scripture.

I was in the place He knew I needed to be to hear from him. I had been there before. I had been there when I my parents moved us from Texas to Miami, Florida right after I gave Jesus my heart and began a journey in homeschooling and a new culture. I had been there when I left all that I knew as a Miami teenager and moved to North Idaho with my parents. I had been there on lonely nights when my friends were out doing things I wasn't allowed to do, or out on dates while I sat home alone.

The Lord and I had a history. He knew I needed to be on a short leash. I was prone to look for all kinds of things that would fill the hole in my heart. I didn't just have an empty place. I had a hole that needed plugged, so that all God poured into me wouldn't just drain out the bottom. He would call me aside during my times of loneliness. He would plug the hole, and He would pour into me. Then I would get busy with events and activities and accomplishments, and that plug would just pop right back out. I couldn't get enough praise or affirmation. I was never good enough for myself. There was such a hole in my heart.

So again, out of His mercy, God gave me another dose of leash tightening. He did it because He loved me. He could have just let me wander and keep looking for things I could do to make myself feel better about this new life. But instead he grounded me - to an antique green couch in a sunny Arizona apartment. He again plugged up the hole in my heart and poured into me. It was miserable at the time, but it would set a tone for the rest of my journey as a mom.

What about you? What are your addictions? Do you have a hole (or holes) in your heart? What has God done to take you aside and work on plugging up your holes?

My Motherhood Journey (part 3)

If you'd like to read parts 1 and 2, click here.

I always had this super romanticized idea of what it would be like to be a mom. I was envisioning "Little House on the Prairie." I planned to make my own bread and sew my own clothes. I would do all the cooking and cleaning and love every minute of it. I would have baby after baby after baby and homeschool all of them. I would always be a stay at home mom. My husband would support us financially, and I would take care of the home.

It all sounded so wonderful in my head. The day finally came. Bill and I had been married about six months, and we were about four months pregnant. We were moving from North Idaho to Phoenix for Bill to start seminary. He had a job waiting for him as a chaplain of a children's home, and I was going to stay home and begin my "Little House on the Prairie" dream...in Phoenix. As I was leaving my job, I told my co-workers that I felt like I was graduating and finally starting the career of my dreams.

There was a small gap, however, between my dreams and reality. Though I envisioned my Caroline Ingalls lifestyle, I was far from Caroline Ingalls. The truth was, I was a very strong-willed, independent, twenty-three year old who was used to having my own income, my own car, and a very busy lifestyle. Truth was, I was a workaholic, and strongly relied on the fulfillment I got from all the things I accomplished.

At first it was all exciting. Bill was getting used to seminary classes and a new job. I was busy setting up our new apartment and making a home. But soon reality set in. I was home alone. all. the. time....in a city of 2 million people I didn't know. We had gone to one car, which Bill needed to get to work and class.  You can only spend so many hours cleaning a 600 square foot apartment. You can only cook so much food for two people. I found myself watching much more "Little House" than living it.

I don't know how Bill survived that year. I cried myself to sleep more nights than I didn't. I was having a huge identity crisis. Gone were the days of a church congregation and fellow staff members giving me kudos for my work performance. No one was depending on me to organize any events. I didn't have girlfriends to go to lunch with or meetings to be at.

I didn't know who I was.

My identity had been wrapped up in the things I did...and that would become an even greater problem in my walk with God.

What about you? Did you face an identity crisis when you became a mom? I'd love to hear from you!

My Motherhood Journey (part 2)

I'm a lucky girl!....Well, okay...blessed! :D

God gave me the best of both worlds in my parents. There was my mom, who brought with her a rich heritage of faith and the passion to raise her kids in the ways of the Lord. There was my dad, who brought with him a fresh faith and understanding of God's grace and passion for all people. Just like most amazing couples, my parents were complete opposites. My family wasn't perfect...just like yours and mine. But I was blessed with the benefits of what both my mom and dad had to offer.

Jesus captured my heart at a young age. I followed Him with child-like innocence when I was really young....and then my eyes were opened to other options. I realized that their really was a choice, and I needed to decide what side I was on. I was almost eleven. I gave Him my whole heart.

I was a fairly lonely girl most of my younger years. I was really shy, a bit awkward. I lived in my imagination...because I had a big one. I could make anything happen in my head. I was born to write novels, I guess.

I discovered early on that there was someone who always wanted to listen to me. He was always there, no matter how many times I moved. No matter how many parties I didn't get invited to, He always wanted to be with me. When I felt like no one understood - He did! When I was tempted to pursue the things that would have made me more popular and "loved" by my peers, He chased after me...forgave and restored.

Jesus had truly become my best friend. He would be there through thick and thin, and I'm so grateful I found that out so young.

As an older teenager, I really struggled to find encouragement in my walk with God. I was a part of a church, but it seemed we only ever talked about four things: dating, drinking, drugs, and sex...which really is two things dating/sex and drugs/drinking. No one ever talked about a God who loved us so intensely that He would do anything for us. No one ever talked about our willingness to do ANYTHING for Him..to obey no matter what...to follow no matter what. It was more about what we could get by with and be okay, rather than pursuing Christ so intently that the distractions solved themselves.

In my seeking for someone who seemed to take God more seriously than the average church attender I knew, I found a new group of people who were very serious about God. Very serious. 

I quickly "matured" into a very legalistic Christian. Don't get me wrong, I still loved Jesus more than anything, but I was beginning to forget that what Jesus wanted most of all was just me. I began to be burdened by the lists that others had compiled of what it took to make Jesus happy. It was long, and it was burdensome. In fact, it wore me plumb out!  

At age 21, I found myself completely depressed and not knowing how to go on with life. I was burned out and very confused. God had been surrounding me with me people that understood having a real relationship with Christ. They were changing everything I thought about my list of rules and regulations, and I didn't know what to do with the path I was going down.  After almost a complete breakdown, I laid it all out before the Lord. I wanted HIM. That is what I wanted. It is what I always had wanted. I felt I needed to start over in a sense, but didn't know what to throw out and what to keep. 

I mean, not many girls have been taught to study Hebrew and Greek in junior high... or have memorized chapters and chapters of God's Word. There were some wonderful things stored up in my heart, and they weren't all bad.  But now began the sifting process....a process I must admit, that is still in progress today. 

This is the girl that entered motherhood three years later....still sifting through what to keep and what to throw away, still wanting Jesus more than anything, still thinking she had much more together than she did, still afraid of making mistakes, still afraid of anyone thinking "less" of me.

I was an internal mess...an internal mess that loved Jesus and wanted more of Him.

What about you?

Who were you when you entered motherhood? Where were you in your journey with the Lord? Were you in the middle of a tangled journey? Was He still waiting to capture your heart? 

My Motherhood Journey (part 1)

I'm the kind of person that likes to start at the very beginning....and, well...the beginning of a woman's journey as a mom starts very long before she becomes one. It starts with what she learned from her mom, and what her mom learned from her mom. Don't you agree?

I don't know a whole lot about my maternal grandma. She died of cancer when I was six. I was growing up blissfully in Washington, and grandma lived in Oklahoma. Memories have been re-created for me through pictures, but I have no real time memories of her at all.  My grandparents grew up in a German Mennonite community.  Most of their neighbors and fellow townspeople were relatives in some way. They had all immigrated from the old country together and resettled in the Oklahoma Panhandle.

Now this particular brand of German Mennonites were not very touchy people. They didn't show their feelings. They gave "firm" hugs to say goodbye or hello, and they didn't smile for pictures. They did, however, fear the Lord. It has always been and still is very important to them that they honor God in all they do and pass that heritage on to their children. They had big family gatherings and (in my opinion) make the BEST food!

However, there was a small dark side of this culture: shunning. Families could be "put out" of the church and maybe not forced out of the community, but "put out" of relationships. Ever heard the phrase, "You're dead to me." ? Because of that, you better be mighty sure that you and yours walked the line. The family motto: What will people think? That was the bottom line for most decisions.

Enter, my mother. Grandma had broken her arm sometime around my mother's birth and wasn't able to hold her much. Mom was the baby of three. Her older brother, a relentless tease. Her older sister, her best ally.  She grew up in this strong in faith and tradition, Mennonite farm family. Not only did they grind their own wheat to bake their own bread - but they grew the wheat first. They separated the cream off their own cows' milk and turned their own butter. They canned their own fruits and vegetables, butchered their own meat, made their own clothes, and rationed the water from the wind mill. They put away white after Labor Day, measured the distance of the silverware from the edge of the table, and followed strict social protocol.

My mom rocked the boat a tad. (I rocked it the rest of the way.) Now, mind you, she got most of it down. She was an expert seamstress, canner, egg gatherer, and silverware measurer. She had the fear of the Lord in her and never forgot to ask "What will people think?"  However, she did smile for pictures, wear very bright colors, go to prom, and marry outside of her "culture." I think being the baby of the family automatically signs you up to be a bit more free spirited.  She married a young, Baptist minister, who grew up in a heathen, Idaho, logging family and hit the trail of faith with him.  Fast forward a few years...The young, tall, beautiful blond farm girl, that had lived in the same 20 mile radius until college, finds herself living in Seattle with two young children and a minister husband....then to Texas, then to Florida, then to Idaho, then to Oregon.

Most of her roots, she brought with her along the trail. She ground her own flour, baked her own bread, made all our clothes, taught piano lessons, played piano for the church, taught Sunday School and lady's Bible studies.... and home schooled ...and had five children....and was the pastor's wife...and....and.....and....She was Wonder Woman!

So guess what I had visions of, when I dreamed of my own future in motherhood? Well....we'll talk more about it next week. :)