Seeking Significance, part 2: Put down the measuring stick

Last week I started a new series on significance, a topic that I am finding really resonates with women right now. (You can find the first post here.) It amazes me how many of us are working ourselves to the point of exhaustion, yet going through life with such a small view of ourselves. I would love to take just a few minutes to encourage you, my reader, that you are so much more than you think you are.

My sweet Lamb is becoming more and more of an artist every day. A few nights ago, as I read to the kids before bedtime (something I still love to do, even though the older two are quite capable of reading by themselves), I glanced over to see her doodling. It was beautiful!

"Wow, Sweetie! That is really impressive! You are such a great artist."

"Well," she replied, "it's really not that good."

I'm used to her preteen negativity, so I decided to let that go and try again. "Well, I think it's beautiful."

Then she turned on her extra-whiny voice. "But everyone else I know can do so much better than meeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!" (Picture slouched shoulders, hanging head, pouty lips--the whole nine yards. The girl is nothing if not dramatic.)

Oh for the love. I may or may not have threatened to never pay her another compliment ever again.

But honestly... how often do we do the exact same thing? Whatever I do is not good enough, because somebody else can do better.

Comparison has long been an issue for the human race, but the internet and social media have taken it to a whole new level. We have quantifiable measurements of how well "liked" we are--and how well "liked" everyone else is as well. And that is a dangerous rabbit trail.

Here's what we need to know: Comparison at its root is a tool. By comparing similar objects or data, we can make determinations that are helpful to society at large. For example, because doctors have determined that most babies walk between 9 and 18 months of age, parents who have a non-walking 3-year-old know that there might be a bigger issue. You might seem like that seems obvious, but we only KNOW that it is unusual for a 3-year-old to be unable to walk because we have seen when other children start to walk--in other words, by comparison. It's a tool.

Then again, a ruler is a tool, too--and a useful one. But if I give Lamb and Monkey each a yard stick and send them out into the yard, what are they likely to do? Before you know it, they will be using those sticks to beat.each.other.down. They will take that tool and turn it into a weapon.

And that is exactly what we do with comparison. That tool that allows us to make useful observations becomes a weapon that we use against ourselves--and others, depending on who comes out ahead. We compare our clothes, our homes, our cooking, our kids' test scores, even our Facebook friend list and Instagram likes.

But here's what I know: If you measure your success by comparing, you will always fall short. Just when you think you've reached the highest level on your stick, you'll find someone who is doing it better or harder or with more recognition, and your pride will never let you be satisfied with "enough."

If you want to be significant, put the measuring stick down.

Because significance is not about what anyone else is doing. It's about you doing what you do. It's about running the race put before you.

One of my favorite Bible stories comes from the book of John. Jesus has endured the crucifixion and returned to his disciples, including Peter, who denied knowing Jesus three times while Jesus suffered and died. Jesus singles Peter out and gently restores their relationship, letting Peter know that he was aware of Peter's shortfall--but that he loves him and wants to use him. He even tells Peter that he will remain faithful to the point of death. And after this beautiful, tender moment between Lord and disciple, what does Peter do? Does he thank Jesus for the grace and forgiveness that he was shown? Does he walk away in contented peace, knowing that he can handle whatever comes his way, now that he has restored this all-important relationship? No, he glances behind him, sees John, and says, "What about him?"

And I love Jesus' answer, because I can almost feel his frustration: "Jesus answered, 'If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me.'" (John 21:22, emphasis added) In other words, "What's your deal, Peter? It doesn't matter what John or anyone else does. You do what you do--and that should be to follow me."

"I'm trying to be a good wife and mom, but my house just isn't as clean as Mary's!" Good for Mary. You run your race, let her run hers.

"I want to be effective for Jesus, but I'm not Billy Graham!" Of course you're not. There are 7 BILLION people in the world, and only ONE of them is Billy Graham. (Also, I'd be willing to bet that many of those 7 billion have never heard of Billy Graham, either. Does that make him less significant?) He is running his race, you run yours.

And speaking of big successful people like Billy Graham, let me just say this... The world of social media and reality TV tells us that in order to be somebody, we have to be KNOWN. We have to be famous and have followers. But this is just such a horrible lie. Take a minute and write down the 10 most influential people in your life. Really. Go ahead--I'll wait.

Now tell me: How many of the people on your list are famous? I'm not saying that people aren't impacted by Billy Graham or Oprah or... I don't know, Bradley Cooper. (What? I am impacted by Bradley Cooper every time I see him!) But I would be willing to bet that AT LEAST 8 people on your list would not be considered "important" by the world's standards. They did not earn their place on your list by speaking to you through a television screen or from their insightful Facebook posts, but by regular and personal contact. Usually the most significant people in our lives are the ones who show up.

My friends, your significance cannot be found in comparison. That is a losing game for every single person who plays. Do you know why? Because there are 7 BILLION people in the world, and only ONE of them is YOU. So put down your measuring stick and be YOU. If you want to be significant, just show up--for the people in your life, for the things you do well, for the cause(s) that are dear to you. Show up. Be significant.

Seeking Significance, part 1: It's not what you do

You guys, I love being a mom. I really, really do. Some days I can't even believe that I get to raise these three.

But "mom" is an identity that it's easy to get lost in. It can be all-consuming--and at the same time, it can feel oh so small. Show of hands, my stay-at-home mom friends: How many of you have been asked what you do, and have answered, "Oh, I'm just a mom"? Don't worry, my hand is up. Well, figuratively speaking. I'm not that good at typing with one hand. The point is... just a mom? I'm just a mom?

Many years ago, when my wonderful hubby and I were wondering if we would ever get to have kids, I longed to be a mom. When we finally got pregnant, I could hardly wait to be a mom. And I knew--I just knew--that being a mom would be the most satisfying and fulfilling thing ever, and that I would love every minute of it and never take it for granted.

And then I actually became a mom.

It really is wonderful and amazing and a blessing and all of those other things. But being a mom to an infant can also be hard and exhausting--and yet feel quite inconsequential. I think Lamb was maybe two months old when I wailed to Mr. Fantastic, "A trained monkey could do this job!!!!" Changing diapers and bottle feeding didn't exactly seem to be putting my college education to use. I felt small and insignificant and rather lost in it all.

Fortunately, I found this amazing group of women--my local chapter of MOPS. What a lifeline! I started attending when Lamb was just 6 months old, and within a few months had volunteered to join the Steering Team. Putting together a newsletter, helping to organize events, working with other women to guide the group... now THIS felt like I was really doing something.

But then a funny thing happened: it wasn't enough. I wasn't totally fulfilled--there was still a hole. So I joined a Bible study, so that I would have more spiritual accountability. I started a monthly play date, so that I could connect more with other moms. I stepped up my leadership within the MOPS group and began to lead the whole thing.

Over the next several years, my commitments--and my family--kept growing. More Bible studies, play groups, and book clubs. I joined the worship ministry at church. I started a supper swapping group. I took meals to other families. I planned some bigger women's events. I volunteered more at church. All while being a wife and mom (first to one baby, then two, then three).

And it was never enough.

That's not to say I wasn't stressed. I was stressed and overwhelmed all.of.the.time. There were never enough hours in the day. Mom guilt pressed in on me from all sides. I was exhausted and overloaded. So why did I feel so insignificant?

I remember one particular fight with my husband when an opportunity had come up--I don't even remember what it was. He very gently said, "That sounds like a good thing, but I'm starting to feel like you're stretched a little thin right now."

"I understand what you're saying," I told him, "but I really feel like this is something I NEED to do."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not doing enough. Because I am not enough."

What had started simply as a way to expand my horizons and make some new friends in those early days of motherhood had turned into a search for significance, and I was hopelessly lost.

Maybe you can relate. Maybe you have been that young mom who feels so overwhelmed and so inconsequential at the same time. Maybe you are the woman who thinks, "If I just do this one more thing, then I will be content. Then I will be doing enough. Then I will be enough."

My dear friends, my heart aches for those of you who have climbed into this boat with me. Let me assure you, it leads to nowhere. Significance is not waiting at the other port--only more frustration, stress, disappointment.

Let's step out of the boat together. Let's get our feet on dry ground and take a good, hard look at what it is to be significant. Over the next couple of weeks, I would really like to dive into this with you.

Here's what I can tell you today... You will never find your significance in your accomplishments. No matter how busy your schedule, no matter how much good you do, there will always be more. And if there is more to be done, there will be more that you could do. And if there is more you could be doing, your pride will whisper, "How can you be significant when you can't do this one simple thing?" And you will find yourself back at square one, feeling worthless.

(And by the way, when you try to do too much, you end up not doing anything well--and then talk about feeling like a failure! No one needs that kind of guilt. So just make like Elsa and let it go, my friend.)

And here's the real kicker for us moms... When we try do find our value in what we do, we are teaching our kids to do the same. I realized a few years ago how performance-driven my kids had become, and I thought, "Where are they getting this? I have worked so hard to not teach them that they have to earn my love by what they do." And yet, my actions taught them that I thought MY worth came from what I did--and that it was destroyed by my failures. Why wouldn't they apply that to themselves? Have you heard the saying, "Faith is caught, not taught"? Well, the same goes for so much of life. Our kids will hear our words, but they will truly ingest our actions and attitudes. I need to get this right, not just for myself, but for them.

You will never be enough by trying to do enough. How different will our calendars look if we live like we believe that? Would we be free to embrace what we love, what we do well, if we let go of what we are doing out of obligation--especially when those "obligations" are quite possibly all in our own heads? You were made for a unique purpose, but you won't find it by trying to fill everyone else's.

Your significance is not in what you do.

Oh, for the love...

I am learning, you guys. I am learning not to say things like, "It has been so busy lately" or "When things calm down..." or "I'll have time for this after..." No. Just NO. Life is ALWAYS busy, and I am never going to just magically stumble on the time to catch up on everything I want to do.

BUT. I'm also learning that the idea of "doing it all" is a big fat lie. I can't. And I shouldn't try. When I overload myself with every good thing, whether I want it or not, whether I'm good at it or not, I am no good to anyone--not any reading audience (real or theoretical), not my friends, not my family, and definitely not myself. I have to unload some of the good--maybe a lot of it--to make space for the best.

I have done this before, shifted priorities, changed or eliminated involvements. It is always hard, but this might be the first time I feel like I am actually doing it well. I am being intentional, not just drifting along. I am making decisions before it is down to the wire. I am considering my own passions and talents, and also what my husband thinks, and through it all seeking God's wisdom. And it feels really good.

Feel free to draw your own conclusions about how this might apply to your life. I have to tell you, though, that this isn't the last time you'll be hearing from me about this topic. In the last 6 months, this is what God has been whispering to me. First He gave me the idea to speak about giving yourself the freedom to say "no." Then He led me to read Lysa TerKeurst's The Best Yes. Then He led me through a 2-month struggle with feeling completely insignificant--in the midst of which I got a request to speak at a moms' group... about struggling to feel significant in our everyday lives. And then... THEN He told me that it might be time for me to step down from women's ministry leadership in my church. And I really didn't see that all of these things were connected... until now.

A few weeks ago, my ministry hero and would-totally-be-BFFs-if-I-moved-to-Austin Jen Hatmaker posted that she needed some women to help launch her next book. I saw a similar post by her last year and applied. For that book, the launch team was comprised of 300 women, and the spots were gone in less than 2 hours. I was not among the elite.

So when I saw Jen's post about her new book (coming out in August)--and realized that it had only been 12 minutes since she posted it AND that this time the team would be 500 strong--I jumped at the chance. I knew my odds weren't great, but I needed to try. Me and 5000 other people. For real. FIVE THOUSAND PEOPLE applied for this. We were told we would hear within 2 weeks.

You guys. THREE DAYS LATER... I got the email. I'm in! I AM PART OF THE LAUNCH TEAM! I don't even have words for this. Short of having something of my own published, I can't imagine being more excited! I received a digital copy of the book immediately, and the hard copy followed about a week later.

And can I just tell you, this is no coincidence. This team. This book. Friends, this book is bringing it all together for me. The power in unloading my life. The search for significance. Some other things that God has been laying on my heart--like growing relationships with the parents of my kids' friends. It is all coming together so beautifully, wrapped up in humor and grace from Jen. (We are in a closed FB group together now--I totally get to call her Jen.)

The book is called For the Love: Fighting for Grace in a World of Impossible Standards. You can preorder it on Amazon here. And you need to do it. NOW. Go ahead, I'll wait. And here's the thing... at this point, I can't tell you tons about the book. I will be talking about it a LOT as we approach its release date, but for now I need to mostly keep it to myself. But I am telling you, you need to read this book. It will set you free, because she tells you stuff like this: "We need to quit trying to be awesome and instead be wise." And this: "Wise women know what to hold onto and what to release, and how to walk confidently in their choices--no regrets, no apologies, no guilt." YES. This is what I need, what we need.

This isn't even what I planned to write about when I sat down here today. But it's what I needed to say. God is shifting my priorities, shaping me, and I am still figuring it out--but I am telling you, so very much of it is summed up in For the Love. I can't wait to tell you all about it. (And in the meantime, this whole experience is leading me to be here with you all more. We are going to have so much fun!)

Every day, every burden

Praise be to the Lord,

to God our Savior,

who daily bears our burdens.

Psalm 68:19

If you have been reading for a while or have heard me speak, you probably know that this is one of my very favorite verses. God bears our burdens daily. Every day. No matter what. He never refuses because they are too big for Him to handle. He never refuses because they are too small and petty for Him to bother with. Every single day, whatever your burden, He is there.

That brought me tremendous comfort when Roo was diagnosed and I thought my world was ending. It got me through days of depression, when I could hardly put one foot in front of the other. It has run through my mind over and over as I have sat with friends who were struggling through various life situations.

And today. Today has been a tough one, friends. Nothing is wrong, really. I am just overwhelmed with life. I got up early to get a few things done, and fell asleep during my quiet time. I can't get caught up on laundry. For every item I put away, Roo throws 10 more across the room. I tried to get something out of the fridge, and a whole shelf fell out--and I can't get it back in. This has been a 1 step forward, 3 steps back kind of day. The kind of day that seems too big for me but too small for God.

But then he reminded me of this verse. Daily. No problem too big or too small. "Remember yesterday?" He asked me.

Yesterday. As I was getting ready to pack my kids' lunches (one of my LEAST favorite chores of all time), I checked the school web site and realized that French toast sticks--their favorite--was being served. Score! I didn't have to pack.

But there's something you need to know: In my house, we have a rule that I pay for their lunches ONLY. If they want something extra--a slushie, chips, etc--they have to take their own spending money to pay for it. (I started this because they were FLYING through their lunch money, buying extra treats every day--sometimes for their friends, too!) And on French toast stick day, you can buy double French toast sticks for a dollar. (It might be 50 cents. There was a brief discussion about this. But really, the amount doesn't matter.) Each of the big kids counted a dollar out of their spending money. Lamb put hers right in her backpack, but Monkey kept playing with his quarters, tossing them, rubbing them together, tossing them, knocking them into each other. I told him to put them in his pocket, and he did... for a good 30 seconds, and then they were back out. I reminded him again, and again he couldn't keep away from them.

As soon as the kids got on the bus, I turned around and saw them: 4 shiny quarters, laying on the floor. My heart groaned inside. My poor sweet Monkey, he is so emotionally fragile lately, and he is so eager to please. He wouldn't realize he had forgotten the money until it was time to use it. He wouldn't know that it would be OK for him to go ahead and buy the extra food on his lunch account just this once.

I considered running the money over to the school, but decided that was silly. It was one thing if he needed the money to eat, but to go to the school and burden someone with going to his class and interrupting his teacher just so that he could have EXTRA food didn't seem wise. It would have to be a life lesson for him.

I know, I know. It's such a small thing. But I worried all day about him and his darn lunch money. My stomach was in knots. And I prayed about it. I prayed about French toast sticks, you guys. OK, not really. Really, I prayed for Monkey and his day and his heart.

And do you know what happened? That kid got in the van after school just as happy as could be. "Mommy, guess what! I asked for double French toast sticks at lunch (which should have been six all together), but they only had 5 left... so they didn't charge me for them!" He never even realized that he didn't have his dollar with him. He got his extra French toast sticks. AND in his mind he got a deal, which to my little business man in training, was the absolute highlight of his day.

Every day. Every burden. No problem too big or too small.

He will bear it. He will provide.

When it's time to walk away

Lamb was 6 months old when I went to my first MOPS meeting. (If you've known me any length of time, that is not the first time you've heard that sentence.) My mom had been encouraging me to find a MOPS group for months, but I didn't even really know what that was, let alone how to find it. Then one morning in church, a new friend said in passing, "I have to get ready for my MOPS meeting on Tuesday." It turned out that a group met right here in my tiny little town, and she was the leader.

I walked into the meeting 2 days later... and instantly fell in love. Within a few weeks, I had volunteered to join the Steering Team. In the years that followed, I have been immersed in moms' ministry, both MOPS and otherwise. I have done publicity, I have led MOPS groups, I have led a discussion group of young moms in a Bible study, I have even started a new moms' group at my church (though not an actual MOPS group). For 8 years, mom ministry has been my ministry.

During my second year of leading the moms' group that I helped to start at my church, I began to notice something... the moms there were really young. I was starting to worry about education and guiding friendships and finding appropriate music/tv/role models for my elementary-aged kids, and the moms around me were talking about sleeping through the night, potty training, and the terrible 2's. One sweet mama told me that I was a good role model.

And that's when it hit me: I'm no longer a young mom.

Now don't misunderstand me. I'm not complaining about my age and I'm not looking for reassurance. And yes, I still have Roo who is not sleeping through the night and not potty trained and right in the throes of temper tantrums and stubbornness. But it's different. I've been down that road a few times and am comfortable with those phases--and honestly, we just march to our own drummer with him, so it can be hard for me to relate to other moms with little ones right now. No, I'm not whining and complaining. I'm just explaining to you that I needed to see that my phase in life was changing, is changing.

So last year I made the very tough decision to step down as the leader of the moms' group, leaving it in the amazing hands of my dear friend who had been my co-leader for the two years since we had founded the group. I took on the role of teacher, leading the discussion about once a month. I was sad, but so excited and had many big plans!

But something was just different. My plans didn't go as I had... well... planned. My love for the moms never changed, but my heart knew that I was not where I should be.

It was time to walk away.

Last Tuesday was my very last meeting. I walked away from the ministry that has been my lifeline for the past 8 years. It has left me feeling a little rudderless. But it's the right decision.

And yet, I'll be right back in there next year, speaking at MOPS groups, writing for moms, ministering to moms. Loving moms, as I always have. But not from within. I'll be coming in from a new angle. A good angle. A mentoring angle. But still... a different angle.

I'm not much for change.

It's been hard. (Did I just say that I have been praying for hard? What kind of a crazy person am I?) But it is right. My friendships are going to look different. But the ones that remain will grow. My ministry will look different. But it is going to be richer, because I will be embracing who and where I am, not trying to hold onto something I'm not.

Do you know the scariest part? This new territory is, um, new. It's unknown. I know moms' groups. I know what they look like, what it feels like to walk in the room, how the conversations will go, even what kinds of food is likely to be served. But this writing and speaking thing, it's still pretty new. And I don't know where it's headed. Will it stay pretty local, or will it grow? Will I ever write the books I've been outlining? Will I get articles published? Find more blogs where I can contribute? Will I stay right here at the zoo?

I don't know the answers to these questions. It reminds me of Roo's first week on earth, sitting in the hospital, and day after day hearing something new that wasn't going as it should in his tiny little body. And I prayed, "God, I don't mind having faith, as long as I know it's going to work out OK."

(In case you're wondering, that's not faith at all.)

I don't know how this is all going to work out. I don't know where it's all headed. I only know one step at a time. And as hard as it was, the first step I needed to take was to walk away.

OK, Lord, I'm ready for step 2!

When you get what you pray for

You know how people say, "Don't pray for God to give you patience!" You know, 'cause then you'll find yourself in all sorts of situations where your patience is tested. Right? That's the theory.

I'm not big on clichés. (It's funny that I am saying that again, because that is precisely how I started this blog 4 years ago.) Clichés are just about 2 steps away from small talk, and my introverted self is not a fan of either of them.

BUT there is something to be said about the axiom "be careful what you wish for"... even if the grammar is poor. If you're going to wish or hope or pray for something, make sure you prepare yourself for what happens when you actually get it.

I always thought that I wanted "the American dream"--a nice house, nice stuff, nice neighborhood. Easy and predictable. It doesn't have to be glamorous, just... stable, easy, conflict-free. Easy.

And did I mention that I wanted life to be easy?

But life with Roo has taught me something. Easy is boring. Easy doesn't really get you anywhere. Hard is beautiful and full of growth and opportunities and richness and... LIFE. Hard is where you lean on God and really experience His love. Hard is where you help others experience His love.

So I started praying for hard.

I pray for our faith to become visible to our kids, for them to really see why we need God in our lives. I pray that God will draw me and my family to Him. I pray that we will be challenged to grow, not allow ourselves to just get comfortable. I pray that He will lead us into new, exciting, HARD things. Not bad things, necessarily. I'm not praying for someone to get sick or for a financial crash in our family. I'm just asking God to move us out of our comfort zone, to help us let go of our desire to be safe, and to give us the opportunity to truly rely on Him.

And He in turn has been preparing my heart. He has something in store for us, I know it. It is going to be beautiful, and quite possibly hard. I have no idea what it is, but I am... hmmmm... what's the word? Excited seems naïve. Anxious is too negative. How about prayerfully anticipating?

In the meantime, there was a day. This one day last week. It was hard. Multiple calls from the school hard. Sick kid hard. Ruined plans hard. Parenting angst hard. Family drama hard.

And I found myself on my knees. "God, why is this so hard?"

And then I laughed. Out loud. A real, actual lol. Because I knew that this was just a glimpse of what hard could look like. This was a very simple opportunity for me to see how I might react when something hard really does come along.

And you know what? It threw me a little, and I'm not saying it was a great day... but I'm pretty happy with where I ended up. Did you catch it? I said it already. I was on my knees. It didn't take long before I realized that I didn't have the strength to handle it myself. And I went right to the One who could.

Over the past couple of years, this has become one of my favorite Bible passages:

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 about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong. (2 Corinthians 12:9b-10)

It took me a long time to really understand why Paul would say that he boasts about his weaknesses, but I get it now--or I'm learning to get it, I guess. Because when I am weak, when I am truly at the end of myself and can stop pretending that I can handle it... that's when I can turn it over to God. And sometimes we act like "turning it over to God" is the same thing as giving up... but it is just the opposite! God is stronger--he is ALL-powerful, mighty, and in control. When life gets hard and I am faced with my own weakness, I can finally let go of my silly sense of control and rely on God's strength--and THAT is something to boast about.

So I got what I prayed for that day, at least a little bit. And for just a minute, I changed my mind. In fact, it made me remember a few years ago when I was really and truly in the depths of depression. I told a friend of mine, "I know that I will get to the other side of this, and I'll look back and see how much I've learned and how deep my relationship with God has become. But I don't care. I don't want to be deep and joyful. I want to be shallow and happy." Yep, for a minute last week, that's what I thought. I take it back, I don't want hard, I don't want out of my comfort zone. I want shallow and happy.

But no. No, I need depth. Because do you know what happens to people who choose shallow and happy? They get tough calls from the school. They have parenting angst. They have family drama and sick kids and tough choices. And it throws them for a loop. But deep people, they know that when they are weak, they are actually their strongest.

Today I am delighting in my weaknesses and difficulties, because they come with a mighty dose of grace and strength, and that is exactly what I prayed for.

Weakness and perspective

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 about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.       --2 Corinthians 12:9-10

I have learned to be content whatever the circumstances. I know what it is to be in need, and I know what it is to have plenty. I have learned the secret of being content in any and every situation, whether well fed or hungry, whether living in plenty or in want. I can do all this through him who gives me strength.       --Philippians 4:11(b)-13

Both of those passages of the Bible were written by the apostle Paul. He also wrote this: "Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was pelted with stones, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on the move. I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my fellow Jews, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false believers. I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked." (2 Corinthians 11:25-27) Yep, the same man who said that he delights in his weaknesses, who says he finds his strength in his weakness, who says he is content no matter the circumstances, he survived all of this.

This morning I found myself repeating and praying through those top two passages. I needed strength in the middle of my weakness. I needed contentment. I needed to feel like I could do whatever needed to be done through Christ's strength.

I was getting the kids ready for school.

Sometimes I feel like maybe I need a little perspective on what it really means to "have a rough day."

But then I remember this verse:
"Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior,
who daily bears our burdens." --Psalm 68:19

Every day. Every burden. No matter how big--OR how small. God says, "I've got this for you. I will gladly take that."

And then... And then... it's not your own strength your using. It's GOD's strength. And that is some major power.

"For when I am weak, then I am strong."


What's your burden today? I can promise you, God will take it if you will just.let.go.

Kind of a big deal

It wasn't long ago that I had the opportunity to sit down with a woman I admire--someone who is a bit of a role model for me, though we are amazingly close in age. We have similar dreams and goals--and personalities, if truth be told--but she is much farther down the path toward realizing her goals than I am. I relished the time to be with her, chat with her, share dinner with her.

But as the evening went on, I noticed a phrase that she seemed to use a lot: "kind of a big deal." As in, "my friend so-and-so has this great job in New York. She's kind of a big deal." From her family to her friends to people she ran into on the street, she seemed to know a lot of folks who are kind of a big deal.

To be fair, she wasn't in any way being snobbish, just excited to talk up the people that she loves, and I think that is fantastic. But I couldn't help but leave there feeling inadequate. Not only am I nothing, but I don't even know anyone who is something! She is extremely talented, but she also has great connections. What hope do I possibly have in my little corner of Small Town America?

I wish I could say I quickly let it go, but it has stuck with me. My insecurities wrapped themselves around this idea and reminded me that I am far from a big deal, that I am far from significant, that I am far from enough.

Have you ever felt like you're not enough? Maybe life hasn't turned out the way you thought--you've had to let go of a dream because of choices or circumstances that have come up. Maybe you are playing the comparison game with a friend or family member or even someone whose blog you read, and you just don't measure up. Or maybe you just lost your temper with your child and you feel that oh-so-familiar mom guilt weighing on you.

The burden of inadequacy is almost impossible to avoid. We are inundated with social media, where it's all about putting our best foot forward. We are surrounded with examples of people who are doing exactly what we're doing--but better, faster, and with more "likes."

But maybe if we don't measure up, it's because we need a new ruler.

Have you ever had a lightbulb moment for yourself when parenting your children? Maybe it's just me, since I am basically raising a mini-me, but it happens a lot around here.

Lamb has been really wrestling lately with who she is. She's smart, but not the smartest in her class. She's musically talented, but not a prodigy. She's active, but not likely to be a legendary athelete. She's helpful and a great leader, but can come off as bossy. She is a devoted friend, but can come off as needy. (Yep, I told you she's a mini-me.) She has asked, on more than one tearful occasion, "WHY did God make me this way? What is special about me?"

And this is what I have been telling her: "Sweetheart, YOU are the daugher of the almighty GOD. YOU have been created uniquely to accomplish something that no one else can do, because no one else has your set of strengths and weaknesses and experiences. YOU have been entrusted with a family who needs you, friends to love and encourage, and a mission to serve the Lord. And not only is the God of the Universe your heavenly father, He is also your VERY BEST FRIEND. You are incredibly special."

Lightbulb.

Here's what I know for me: This post may be read by thousands of people, or it may never been seen by anyone but me. I may one day be known across the country as an author/speaker, or I may just be the world's best book reader to 3 little munchkins. Either way, I am going to do it with all my heart, because I am on a unique mission to serve God.

And here's what I know for me AND for you, if you know the love and saving grace of Jesus Christ: YOU are the daugher (or son ;-) ) of the almighty GOD. YOU have been created uniquely to accomplish something that no one else can do, because no one else has your set of strengths and weaknesses and experiences. YOU have been entrusted with a family who needs you, friends to love and encourage, and a mission to serve the Lord. And not only is the God of the Universe your heavenly father, He is also your VERY BEST FRIEND. You are incredibly special.

I don't know about you, but I think that sounds like kind of a big deal.

Every Day

"If you want to be a writer, write something every day." I read this advice recently, and it sounds so good. Just spend a few minutes each day on the craft, on the thing I want to do for a living. Just a little time every day.

If only.

If I took 10 minutes a day to spend on each thing that only needs 10 minutes a day... I would never sleep.

Friends, I want to write. Every day. I want to be a writer. I want to blog every day, to keep journals of the things that my kids do, to keep my own private journal, to write letters to my husband. I have heard such kind words from some of you about writing a book. Thank you. Yes, it's here, that book, in my head. Tossing and turning, wanting to come out. Every day.

Do you know what else I want to do every day? I want to have a clean house--laundry folded, dishes done, beds made, toys put away. I want to scrapbook--pictures printed, journaling written, memories captured. I want to play the piano, to practice what I preach to my students. I want to exercise, to lose the pounds that I put on in my year-of-pretending-that-I-don't-care-about-anything-because-my-child-has-Down-syndrome. I want to spend time teaching my kids, encouraging them to grow academically, spiritually, and emotionally. I want to spend time playing with my kids, showing them that I love and enjoy them and am not here just to be a Mommy Cop. I want to cook healthy, wholesome meals without processed foods or corn syrup of any fructose level. I want to spend time on my marriage, constantly wooing and being wooed by the man of my dreams, so that one day when our children leave home we won't have to get to know each other all over again. I want to read my Bible and pray, to continue growing spiritually into the woman God has created me to be. I want to pursue speaking engagements. I want to spend time investing in relationships. I want to do service for God and man. I want to clip coupons and practice photography and get more organized and read books and make crafts and... and... waste time look up valuable new ideas on Pinterest and keep up on my e-mails and listen to music. And shower. I definitely want to shower.

Every day. All of those things.

I don't know how to do it. I don't know how to give time to all of the things that are in me and around me, calling me. I don't have enough "10 minutes" in me.

A few months ago--I may have blogged about it at the time, I can't remember--a wise woman told me not to be busy, but to be intentional. To make choices about how I spend my time based on what God has laid on my heart, not based on who asks first. I love this. This is who I want to be. When my children grow up, I want them to remember me as intentional.

I'm trying. I'm trying to make choices--sometimes hard choices--that allow me to be more intentional with my time. I'm saying no to things that are good, because I know that those things aren't necessarily the best. Just because I don't have anything on my calendar doesn't mean I have to fill it with the first thing to come along.

Intentional.

I don't know if that really solves my "10 minute" problem. There are still so many things on that list that I want to do, I want them to be part of my intentional life. I still don't know how to fit them all in.

But I do know this: Two weeks ago, Mr. Fantastic asked me (a very tearful, emotional me), "What is one thing I can do to help you? What do you need most right now?"

And without a moment's hesitation, I answered, "I need to write. I need you to help me carve out time to write."

I need it. On so many levels, for so many reasons. I need to write.

And so I will write. Every day. I'm not promising to blog every day--I've made that promise before, and I think we can all agree that didn't go especially well. But I will write something every day. A note to my kids, a journal entry, a blog post, a poem. Something.

How do I fit in all of the things I want to do every day? I have no idea. But I know how to start: with one thing. Right now, this is my one thing.

Every day.

Faults

I recently heard a great story about a couple who was in marriage counseling. After battling through several sessions with little progress, the counselor sat them down and gave them each a piece of paper. "I want each of you to take a few minutes and write down all of your spouse's faults that you wish they didn't have."

The husband and wife both started writing furiously, almost giddily, certain that they were finally getting somewhere. "Now this counselor will see what I put up with," she thought. "Now we can finally start to fix this woman," the husband told himself.

When the papers were filled and the writing had stopped, the counselor took the sheets, handed them each a blank page, and said, "Now I'd like you to make a list of the faults you would rather that your spouse have."



I've been having a similar conversation with God today.

"Lord, why did you make me so insecure? And my organizational skills--really? No disrespect, but what were You thinking? And while I'm at it... let's talk about my parenting shortfalls. And my impatience. And my lack of will-power when it comes to anything chocolate... or ice cream... or nacho chips. Lord... why all of these faults?"

"So... you aren't a fan of your faults, eh? What faults would you like to have?"

"Ummmm... well... I was thinking I could just be me... but without the faults."

"Sorry, kiddo. It doesn't work that way. Everybody has shortcomings. It's part of being human."

"But how can I glorify You when I am so... fallen?"

"I think you know the answer. I know that you've read, memorized, and repeated this many times over, but let me remind you again...
I Corinthians 12:9-10 '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 about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.'
My power is made perfect in your weakness. You don't glorify Me, Katy. I glorify Myself through you."

"So... the weaknesses are good things? I'm supposed to delight in them? Boast in them?"

"You got it. That doesn't mean that you stop trying to improve. But it does mean that you trust Me. Trust that I knew what I was doing when I made you. Trust that I don't make mistakes. Trust that I have a plan for the big and the small. Trust."

I don't get it, I really don't. It seems logical that I would be more effective if I were more confident, more organized, more... well, perfect. But maybe it's not about logic. "For the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom, and the weakness of God is stronger than human strength... But God chose the foolish things of the world to shame the wise; God chose the weak things of the world to shame the strong." (I Corinthians 1:25 & 27)

And I do trust Him... I don't always understand Him, but I do trust Him.

And really, I haven't come up with the list of faults I would rather have...

Destructive Behavior

Yesterday I was looking through some photos online, and I came across one of a woman with two small children. They were all happy and smiling, and my first thought was, "How can she look like that and smile? What does a person overweight like that have to be happy about?"

Judgmental, right? Shallow? Self-righteous?

Well, maybe not that last one. Because the woman in the photo was me. The kids were Monkey and Lamb. The pictures were from Monkey's birthday party earlier that day. I am that woman.

Now, before anyone tells me that God made me and all that, believe me, I know and I am thankful for that. But the body I have now has NOTHING to do with the body God gave me, and EVERYTHING to do with my own destructive behavior.

For instance, today I was still so frustrated with myself for the way that I looked in those pictures (and worse yet, in front of my friends who were AT THE PARTY) that I decided to do something about it. Did I exercise? Well... no. Eat celery all day? Not exactly. So what did I "do" about it?

Welllllllllllllll... have you ever walked into a room that was so messy that it completely overwhelmed you, so you just started picking things up and throwing them around to make it worse?

No? Hmmmm.

No, of course not. That's just silly. But that's essentially what I did today. I was so upset with myself that I spent the entire day snacking on Doritos and leftover birthday cake. And I didn't enjoy ANY of it. It wasn't about enjoying it--it was about punishing myself.

Well, that really showed me. Ha.

How do I get into these destructive patterns? It's not limited to my eating, either. Once I woke up from my post-Roo-diagnosis-coma and realized that life with Down syndrome really is good (pretty great, actually), I looked in the mirror and saw how much I had neglected myself in that time... and I didn't like what I saw. And that's when it started--the destructive thoughts. "What the heck is wrong with me?" "Why on earth would anyone want to be my friend--to hang around with me--when I look like this?" "I just don't like myself." Yep, that's what I say to myself. Daily.

Seriously.

Now stop. This is not a big plea for people to feel sorry for me or try to make me feel beetter. This is me being raw, honest, transparent. For a reason.

Destructive behavior is a downward spiral. What's that saying? "Your thoughts become your words; your words become your actions; your actions become your habits; your habits become your character; your character defines your destiny." Yikes. I'm halfway through that list--my thoughts have become words, then actions, then habits. Is this really what I want to define my character? Ew. NOT who I want to be.

I wish I could just "positive self-talk" my way out of this one. I can say, "I like myself and think that I'm beautiful" 1,000 times a day, but that doesn't really matter if I know that I am lying to myself. And it's not about seeing myself as God's creation--I have no problem with that. I have a problem with what I, in my fallenness, have done to God's creation.

But I'm realizing... that's OK too. So often we want to just make ourselves feel better, so we make excuses. "I'm still beautiful inside." "I was under a lot of stress." "I am burning the candle at both ends right now--I don't know how to find the time to work out." You know what? Those things are all true, but they don't change the facts. They don't change the things that I think when I look in the mirror--or at a photo.

Sometimes we don't need positive thoughts. Sometimes we need true thoughts. Here is what is true: "Do you not know that your body is a temple of the Holy Spirit, who is in you, whom you have received from God? You are not your own; you were bought at a price. Therefore honor God with your body." (I Corinthians 6:19-20)

This isn't about me. It's not about what size clothes I wear or what other people think about me or even what I think about myself. I am not honoring God with my body. God made me for a purpose, and He gave me this body so that I could fulfill that purpose. If I'm not healthy, I'm not fully able to fulfill His purpose for me. If I'm consumed with distaste for myself, I'm not consumed with passion for Him. If I'm worrying what people will think when they see me, I'm not focused on how I can best serve God.

It's time for a change. A change in my thinking. I don't need to replace "I just don't like myself" with "I think I'm great." My new thoughts need to be, "It's not about me."

How can I honor God with my body?

Stay tuned. I'm learning.

Doubts

I feel the need to add a disclaimer that this post was not created out of the stress of the past couple of days and spurred on by exhaustion. I actually wrote this last week and scheduled it for this morning. I could probably add some more to it this morning in my sleep-deprived weariness, but I think it's best just to share with you what I wrote when my head was clearer. :-)

I don't know about you, but sometimes I need to write things down. (Surprise, surprise, eh?) Some days I get completely overwhelmed by the to-do list or the shopping list or the list of questions I need to ask or any one of the many lists that I try to keep in my head. The tasks seem impossible... until I write them down. Once I see them in black and white, they aren't so scary. And sometimes the lists aren't as long as they seem in my head. Suddenly the impossible seems managable, even reasonable. And suddenly I start to feel better, breathe easier--maybe even laugh a little at myself.

Lately I have had a lot of doubts on my mind. They started slowly, just a question here and there, a concern now and then. And then they started to grow. My head is hurting more, my stomach is aching more, the tears are coming more... and I'm sleeping less. The doubts are growing, and I am worrying. And the worries... well, they are intimidating. Overwhelming. Impossible.

So this morning I decided it was time to try my old trick. Get them out of my head. Get them on "paper"--or screen, at least. In the spirit of trying to ease my mind, in the hopes that they will seem less scary when I actually write them down, I'm going to share with you the doubts and questions that have been plaguing me.

What if I should have been more concerned about Roo's slow weight gain?

What if that slow growth also slowed down his mental development--and it's my fault?

What if Roo's many colds last year slowed down his development? I was catching up on The Blessing of Verity the other day and read this: "Why are we so vigilant over Verity’s health?  When typical babies get sick, even repeatedly, it doesn’t affect their overall development.  They will still meet their milestones effortlessly.  When babies with special needs are repeatedly ill, it can have a serious negative impact on their long-term development." She also says, "We can’t prove her health is a result of mama’s milk, vitamin D, probiotics, fish oils, grapefruit seed extract, Sambucus, extra-virgin organic unrefined coconut oil, superfood fruits and vegetables, staying away from dairy and groups of peers with runny noses, or any other factors!  But they can’t be hurting, either." I'm not doing those things. If Roo's coughs and stuffy noses and fevers harmed his overall development... it's my fault.

What if I'm not stimulating him enough? In that same post, Verity's mama goes on to say, "Since her birth, we have done our best not to let Verity have any 'down time,' no break from being challenged and stimulated in some way, unless she is asleep.  Again, this has become part of the collective family consciousness.  We all help to keep her engaged and working, to keep her from sitting and doing nothing, or 'blobbing,' as I call it." What if he is falling behind the other babies we know because of this under-stimulation? It's my fault.

How can I stimulate him more and still take responsible care of the rest of my family? Already the laundry is piling up, the floors need swept, the bathrooms need cleaned--not to mention the projects that are growing. I'm not even keeping up with the current level of chaos, let alone making any head way.

What if I'm not spending enough time with the big kids? What if they start to resent Roo because of all of the time and attention he needs? If they start to resent him, it's my fault.

How can I teach my kids that they are more important than housework, and still teach them to be responsible, good stewards? If they grow up to be irresonsible slobs, it's my fault.

What if I'm comparing too much?

What if I'm not comparing enough?

What if we're missing something? Something in his eyes, his ears, his brain that could be slowing down his development--or worse, something that could affect his health in the long-term.

What if...?

And underneath it all... at the very root of all these questions... is WHY. But it's not the "why" of a year ago. I'm no longer asking, "Why, God, did you bring this into our family? Why are you making our baby suffer? Why are you making life hard for us?"

No, now it's a different "why."  Now I wonder...
Why did you give this incredible baby to me, when I am already failing him? Why didn't you realize that there are thousands of moms out there who would be so much better for him?

I heard an interview this week with a Christian counselor and pastor. He was actually talking about victims of sexual abuse, but he said something that really hit home with me. He said that today's oh-so-popular depression "cure" of Positive-Self Talk doesn't work, because the things you tell yourself aren't necessarily true. I can look myself in the mirror every day and say, "You are an amazing rocket scientist!" But that doesn't make it true, so when I go out and try to get a job at NASA, they'll just laugh me out of there.

And do you know what else? Messages like "It's my fault" are a lot more powerful than messages like "I'm sure I'm doing fine."

But do you know what is effective? Scripture. Because Scripture is true, and I know it's true. If I keep it in my head, if I constantly remind myself of the truth... I'll be better equipped to fight the doubts.

That's the hope, anyway. That's what this counselor said. And I definitely found it to be true in my struggles with depression before. So it's worth trying now.

So here's the deal... Plan A didn't really work too well for me. Writing down those doubts... didn't make them less scary. Instead, I'm in tears just from typing them out, from sharing with all of you the ugly thoughts that are in my head.

It's time for Plan B. And maybe Plan B should have been Plan A all along. Because Plan B is the Word of God.

Here's what I know is true...

"'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord, 'plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.'" --Jeremiah 29:11

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother’s womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well." --Psalm 139:13-14

"Praise be to the Lord, to God our Savior, who daily bears our burdens." --Psalm 68:19

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls." --Matthew 11:28-29

"Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid." --John 14:27

"Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it." --Proverbs 4:23

Father, help me to guard my heart. Help me to fill it with truth--and You are the Truth. Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. Help me to trust in You, in your plan for me and my family.

The Dish

(Or, Reason Number 5,623 Why I Have an Amazing Family)

I'm hesitant to tell this story because… well… my mom reads this, and I have been avoiding telling her about this incident. (Sorry, Mom!) But it has such a wonderful ending that it needs to be told.

My parents have just redone their kitchen. It's beautiful, and they are thrilled. My mom and dad kept my kids overnight on Friday (Hallelujah!), and when I picked them up on Saturday, my mom gave me a decorative plate that she used to have up on a shelf in her kitchen. It is called "Katie the Tightrope Walker" and on it is a picture of a little girl walking a tightrope… which is laying flat on the floor. (Which is, by the way, the only way that I could ever walk on a tightrope.) She'd had that plate for as long as I can remember, and I also knew it was because of me, but what I didn't know is that the plate had come from my biological mother. Pretty cool, eh?

So I loaded up all our junk the necessary items for keeping 3 small children for 1 night and headed home. I pulled in the garage, opened the door to the van, and out tumbled the diaper bag, which spilled open and dumped the plate onto the floor. Of the garage. In case you were wondering, the plate didn't survive.

"Oh no!" I mumbled.

Lamb asked me what was wrong, and I gave her a one-sentence answer as to what had broken and why it was important. But I honestly wasn't that upset about it—I mean, I was definitely disappointed, but I wasn't emotional about it or anything. I wish I could say the same thing about Lamb. She burst into tears and cried for several minutes. And throughout the day, she must have told me three other times how sorry she was that my plate had broken. I assured her each time that she hadn't caused the accident and didn't need to be sorry, but she would just answer that she was sorry for me. That poor, sweet girl. Her emotions are so much bigger than she is.

Well, that night I was out and Mr. Fantastic had the kiddos. (Yes, I had a whole kid-free overnight experience on Friday AND a kid-free evening on Saturday! It was like a rare aligning of the stars!) What I didn't know was, while I was watching "Water for Elephants" (a great movie, an even better book—but be prepared for a couple of less-than-appropriate scenes in the book), there was some plotting going on in my house.

On Sunday morning, I was getting ready for church when Mr. Fantastic called me into our room. He and all three kids were laying on our bed, looking quite amused with themselves. He handed me a decidedly plate-shaped package, which was wrapped up and had 2 kid-made cards on top. Monkey, whose mommy-led-preschool-experience has been sorely lacking, can write his name and scribble, and had done just that for me. And Lamb had written me a nice little note about how sorry she was about my plate. I opened it up, and found this cute little plate that says "A Good Mother Makes a Happy Home" and has a picture of four little kids holding flowers. (And Mr. Fantastic said, "Since there are two little girls and two little boys, we thought we might have to adopt one more girl." I don't think he knows that, even if he wasn't being completely serious, that statement meant as much to me as the plate!) The plate is dated 1984, and came from an antique mall that is close to our house. It is honestly the most special gift I have ever been given. Nevermind that it's not something that I would have picked out or that it has four kids on it or that I was 4 when the plate was "released" or… whatever. It is special because it was Lamb's idea (and begging and pleading) to do it, my kids picked it out, my husband braved a store full of breakables with three small children to get it, and they were all BEAMING when they gave it to me.

I am rich beyond anything I ever could have imagined.

And all because the diaper bag fell on the floor.

Deja Vu

This post has gone through a few different titles... I thought about calling it "What's Your Motivation?" "It's Not about Me" or "The Green-Eyed Monster" or "What is it to you?"  or a few other things.  And then I realized that those titles sounded familiar... and then I remembered that they are the names of other posts I have written--some published, some not.  So apparently, God is having a hard time getting this lesson through my thick skull.

Ugh.  Learning and growing is painful enough to begin with--why can't I get it right the first time?

I confessed to being a procrastinator on Tuesday, and today I need to admit to another fault: I am a jealous person.  It is hard for me to see other people get what I want.  Yikes--it looks really awful right there in black and white.  What kind of a petty person am I?  But today, it happened again.  I have been working really hard for something, and I just got a very casual message from someone (and someone much less deserving, in my completely-logical-and-unbiased-and-nonjudgmental mind, of course) that made it obvious that she's having larger success with less effort.

So I started whining complaining talking calmly and rationally to God about it: "But it's not fair!"  (What, that doesn't sound calm and rational to you?)  "I am trying to serve You, Lord.  And she obviously is not--so why are You letting her be more successful than me????"  After I pouted and subsequently had to put myself in timeout, I realized that I was acting more like my 4-year-old than the 30-ish person that I am.  (I think I like 30-ish.  I'm going to stick with that one.)  And I was able to admit that my statement was a complete paradox.  How could I claim to be doing something for God's glory and yet be so upset because I was being overshadowed?

God's glory and my glory are not the same.  It's a good thing, because I don't lead that much of a glorious life.  He is glorified through the big and the small, the weak and the strong.  I may never write a New York Times bestseller, but hopefully I will touch someone's heart through this blog.  I may never sell out any arenas with my #1 hit songs. but my daughter loves to sing with me.  I may never have my own cooking show, but I keep my family well-fed.  I may never be an expert on special needs, but my son lights up every time I walk in the room.  God's glory isn't about the size of the action, but the size of the heart behind it.

Let's hope I learn the lesson for good this time... ;-)

Peter turned and saw that the disciple whom Jesus loved was following them. (This was the one who had leaned back against Jesus at the supper and had said, "Lord, who is going to betray you?") When Peter saw him, he asked, "Lord, what about him?"



Jesus answered, "If I want him to remain alive until I return, what is that to you? You must follow me." --John 21:20-22

(PS Here is the last post I wrote about this passage...)

Progress, Productivity, & Procrastination

Hi, my name is Katy, and I'm a procrastinator.    

Whew, it feels good to get that off my chest. In fact, I wanted to write this post last night, but I kept putting it off. I wish I were kidding for the sake of a lame joke, but I'm not. I mean, it's not like I put it off for nothing. I had important things to do… like… play backgammon online... until midnight. (Yes, I said backgammon. I am that much of a nerd.)

A lot is happening here at the zoo—we're trying to buckle down on our budget (gotta love the economy), I'm leaving for Africa in a month, Lamb will be out of school for the summer before we know it, etc—and I'm really trying to bring my A-game when it comes to getting things done around the house. It just gets so darn overwhelming, though. And I hate when a day goes by and I realize I didn't set aside any play time with my kids. Sometimes I get so overwhelmed & frustrated that I just shut down. I wander the house, looking like I'm working, but I don't really get anything done. Or I work halfheartedly on something meaningless because I'm intimidated to attack the project that really needs done.

I'm happy to say, though, that I will be getting lots done today, thanks to a little something that Mr. Fantastic calls "Dogg Night." A few months ago, he and a friend started a work swap night—twice a month they come here and work together on projects for an evening, and twice a month they go to his friend's house to work. (Don't ask me why they call it "Dogg Night"—they're 30-something men and they think it's cool.) I have really admired how much they get done on their evenings together, and I have envied the quality friend time. J So a few months ago a friend of mine and I decided to do the same thing during the day… And by "a few months ago", I mean we did our first work day in January, and then our second one last week. It's been a busy few months. Anyway, I think she's coming over today for Round 3, and I am giddy about how much we can accomplish. Already I am realizing that 1 + 1 equals more than 2. When we work together, we are both so much more motivated than when we're on our own. The work doesn't seem overwhelming because there's someone else to talk to. It's great to have some girl time and not feel like I'm getting farther behind. And even though I do have to set aside some time to take care of Roo, I don't worry about taking time away from my kids because I get so much done in one morning working with my friend that I can devote the afternoon and evening to nothing but my family. It's a good thing. (Plus today after school we're having an awesome playdate with friends at a place that's all full of those inflatable bounce house things. Shhhh… My kids don't know—just in case it somehow doesn't work out—but they are going to be so happy!)

And speaking of procrastination, I finally got my shots for Mozambique yesterday. I know, my trip is still a month away and it seems like I have plenty of time, but one of those immunizations is a 3-shot series over the course of 6 months… so I'll have to go back twice after I come home. And I've known since November that I was planning to go on this Short-Term Mission, so I could have at least gotten 2 rounds in. Oh well. My right arm is quite sore from the tetanus shot, but overall it was not nearly as bad as I had anticipated. I went to our county health department, and it was quite a bit cheaper than anywhere else, the people were friendly and knowledgeable, AND they had self-retracting needles that hardly even hurt. It was a really positive experience!

Oh, and about Mozambique, don't believe the ChipIn on the right—we have had some wonderful donations. THANK YOU to everyone who has contributed. You all are much better at being on the ball than I am. ;-) The ChipIn doesn't reflect this because it only records the online donations, and all of the money so far has come in directly to those of us on the team, or to our church. I don't know an exact total of what we've raised so far as a team, but I know that I am about halfway there for my own portion of the trip. Yes, I said we were planning to do a big giveaway/fundraiser, but I am still mulling that one over. This is partly because the money is coming in pretty well, but mainly because I'm not sure we'd get the participation in a giveaway for a missions trip that we would for something else (like the orphans on Reece's Rainbow)—which is totally fine, but I don't want to be wasteful, you know? I just can't decide if it would be worthwhile. But anyway, thank you again to everyone who has donated to the trip, and please feel free to click on that ChipIn on the right or contact me if you are interested in supporting me! I'll be posting more about my upcoming trip soon—I'm excited to fill you all in as we get closer to the big day!

So… it turns out our chickens are not procrastinators at all. We got our first egg less than 2 days after we picked them up from my brother, and now have 2 (out of 4) laying. As much as I fought having them, I am enjoying the fresh eggs, the kids are loving them, and Mr. Fantastic seems to like them too. (I have only been back to see them once since we got them… a week ago today.)

And while we're talking about progress & productivity, let me give you a little update on Roo, who is my big helper while I am writing this morning. (Darn early risers. Who knew that 2 of my 3 kids would be morning people?!) In addition to his continued reign as Cutest Baby I've Ever Seen, he is now the proud owner of THREE teeth—two on the bottom and one on the top. He is so close to crawling, he can almost taste it. He gets up on his hands & knees, scoots one knee forward, then PLOPS down on his belly, raises his hands and feet in the air, and acts like he's flying, then repeats the whole process. But don't let the lack of crawling fool you—he gets where he wants to go.

Well, as much fun as it is to retype every third word while Roo continually tries to snatch my laptop away from me (He is the most techno-savvy 1-year-old…), I need to run. It's almost time to wake Lamb up for school, and I like to be dressed & ready before she's up… I don't really have time to get that done now, but I've been putting it off for a while… When will I learn?

Persevering

I feel like I need to preface this post... I promise you all, I have a lot more good days than bad days.  Really.  But somehow the good days just don't seem all that noteworthy.  And anyway, there's a happy ending here, so keep reading.  You know, as in, persevere through this post.  ;-)

I woke up this morning feeling... well, actually, feeling panicked.  I've been trying to get up by 6, often earlier, and today my eyes shot open when I realized it was lighter than I had expected.  It was 6:43, which meant that I needed to shower and get dressed in about 15 minutes so that I could get the kiddos up and going on time.  I managed to pull it off and breathed a sigh of relief.  I could feel a little sadness nagging at me, but I pushed it aside.

I went to wake up Lamb, and found Monkey wide awake on the floor.  Monkey, who had a HUGE weekend with no naps and late bedtimes.  Monkey, who was so exhausted that he had fallen asleep the second his head hit the pillow last night.  Monkey, who we later found out had been so sleepy and out of sorts, he had forgotten to go potty before bed, despite the many, many times we told him to.  So he was also Monkey, the boy who had peed the bed less than 10 minutes after bedtime.  And I was the mean mommy who had been very short-tempered when it happened.  :-(  So I was less than thrilled to already find him bright-eyed and ready for a new day, 30 minutes before his normal wake-up time, considering all of the things I just mentioned.

And then Lamb was whiny.  And then all three kids needed me at the same time.  And then... I don't even know what else.  But suddenly the day seemed like it was going to be too much.

Mr. Fantastic is pretty good at reading me these days, so he didn't even ask how I was feeling.  Instead he said, "Is there something in particular that has you feeling down?"

I answered, "Just the overwhelming feeling that I'm not going to make it through the day."

And you know what happened next?  He went to work.  He didn't stay and get the kids ready or take the girls (Lamb and our neighbors) to school or ask if I needed him here or anything like that.  He went to work.  And I cried.  And you know what?  Honestly, it's good that he went to work.  He needs to be able to go to work.  And to be quite honest, I know I'm pretty darn tired of myself being in a funk, so I can only imagine that he's had his fill as well.

So I got the kids ready.  And I took them to work.  And I did it without losing my temper or barking at the kids over stupid stuff (although I did bite my tongue a few times) or having any kind of a nervous breakdown.

And then I came back home, and I started to feel overwhelmed.  This is where I sometimes just get paralyzed by my depression.  I feel like there are so many things on my list that I can't possibly do them all, and it is so overwhelming that I just do nothing.  I can't find a place to start, so I just don't start at all.

But today, I was determined.  So do you know what I did?  I picked up the dirty bowl & spoon from Lamb's breakfast, and I put them in the dishwasher.  And when Roo was done eating, I put his bowl and spoon in the dishwasher.  I went upstairs, picked up a shirt out of the clean laundry, and I folded it.  And when that was done, I picked up something else from the basket and folded it.  And when that basket was done, I put things away.  And then I found something else to work on, and something else.  Every time I finished a job and I started to get overwhelmed, I thought, "I don't have to do everything, just the next thing."  And that's exactly what I have done all day.

And guess what... All of the clean laundry is folded, the washer & dryer are running, the first floor is straightened up, the kitchen is clean, and the grocery shopping is done.  And while I may not be the most chipper I've ever felt, I feel... satisfied.  Relieved.  Like it's going to be OK.

And now... I'm going to go do the next thing.

Silence

I know I have been neglecting this little spot in the blogosphere. I said in an earlier post that there are several reasons for this, but they all keep coming back to one thing… Silence. God has been teaching me a lot about, in, and through silence lately.

This morning I wish things were silent around here. Mr. Fantastic is out of town, and I am home with 3 sick kids! Lamb has a fever and is miserable, Monkey just seems to have a cold or growing pains or something (headache and general achiness but no other symptoms), and Roo has just gotten over a bug and is all congested. I couldn’t get to sleep until 1 AM. Sometime after that, the cat decided he wanted to play with my toes. I was not amused. Then at 5:30 Lamb came in and asked me to get that same cat out of her bed. She was back in my room at 6:15 to ask for help with blowing her nose (Seriously?). It was obvious she had not gone back to sleep from when the cat woke her up. Then Roo woke up coughing. Then our house alarm went off (I still don’t know why). And that was all by 6:45. I’m a tired mama with lots to do today.

Oh, I’ve been silent from Facebook (in my regular account) for about a month now. (I gave it up for Lent.) I have to admit… it’s getting a little old. BUT it truly does make things simpler to not have one more thing I feel like I need to keep up with.

Being silent can help me to learn. When something is on my mind, when God is trying to get something through my thick skull, and I immediately come here to write about it, it can be easy for me to wipe my hands clean when the post is done. “See, Lord? I obviously learned my lesson. Look what deep insights I wrote about it.” Then I go on my merry way, lesson… regurgitated, but not really learned.

The silence of others is often a blessing in disguise—or at least a lesson. I tend to depend on other people for a lot of things… affirmation, a listening ear, advice, etc. There’s nothing wrong with turning to a friend, but I so easily forget that I have the ultimate Friend who is available any time I need Him. So sometimes He has to remove the obstacles… and sometimes that hurts. But it’s good in the long run.

When I am upset about something, I get silent. It’s something that Mr. Fantastic and I struggled with early on in our marriage. Now I’m seeing that tendency in my life as a whole. When I am overwhelmed by something, I avoid it. When I am overwhelmed by life in general, I shut down. I have so many plates spinning right now, and instead of trying to decide which ones need my attention the most, my tendency is to turn my back on them, plug my ears, and brace myself for the crash. So far it hasn’t come.

And when I do that… and when I get silent with God… sometimes it feels like He’s being silent to me. But I have to remind myself that I’m the one who has cut off the lines of communication. He is there waiting with open arms. But can I tell you something? I’m a little bit scared. In some strange way, being lonely from the Lord can seem easier than drawing near to Him and accepting what growth He might have in store for me. (Note my earlier statement that things can be good in the long run but hurt in the short run. I don’t really want to hurt any more.) So I’ve been a little bit timid with Him lately. But a verse has been bouncing around in my head for the past few days: “For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.” (II Corinthians 4:17)

Light and momentary troubles. This is coming from the same man (Paul) who later in the same book recounts that “I have worked much harder, been in prison more frequently, been flogged more severely, and been exposed to death again and again. Five times I received from the Jews the forty lashes minus one. Three times I was beaten with rods, once I was pelted with stones, three times I was shipwrecked, I spent a night and a day in the open sea, I have been constantly on the move. I have been in danger from rivers, in danger from bandits, in danger from my fellow Jews, in danger from Gentiles; in danger in the city, in danger in the country, in danger at sea; and in danger from false believers. I have labored and toiled and have often gone without sleep; I have known hunger and thirst and have often gone without food; I have been cold and naked. Besides everything else, I face daily the pressure of my concern for all the churches. Who is weak, and I do not feel weak? Who is led into sin, and I do not inwardly burn?” (II Corinthians 11:23-29) These are his “light and momentary troubles”?!? But you see, he can have this perspective because of what comes next. They are “achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all.” They aren’t just something to plow through until we get to the other side. They are achieving for us that eternal glory. We need these light and momentary troubles… these trials and hardships… these painful growth experiences. And someday we’ll say, “Wow, I can’t believe I worried so much about that. I mean, it wasn’t fun at the time, but it was so worth it.”

Well, this post has taken a much different turn than I had originally planned… but there you have it. I’m trying to take these lessons in silence and apply them in a healthy way. Stop being silent toward God and start being silent before Him. Spend a little less time worrying about what others think and a little more time walking with my Closest Friend. Take my lessons to heart and apply them before I just spew them out here.

And in the meantime, I’ll try to stop being so silent here in general. I miss this little part of my universe!

That gut feeling

It's 6:30 in the morning, and my house is beautifully quiet.  The kids are all asleep--and as far as I know, they're all healthy.  I get to see my Bible study ladies this morning, which is always a treat for me.  And tonight, I'm teaching a Bible study, and I am more prepared and more comfortable with the teaching than I have been all semester.  It's the set-up for a great day.

But all I can think about is the feeling in my gut.  That sad, sinking feeling.  After 10 days of (apparently unprecedented, if you ask Mr. Fantastic) complete happiness, the dark & twisties are coming back.  I've known it was coming, because it is typically preceeded by insomnia, which I have had for the past few nights.  (And yes, it HAS occurred to me that the lack of sleep may also be affecting my mood.  But where does the insomnia come from?)  But I have managed to fight it off for the past few days because it just felt so darn good to be happy!  This morning, though, it is overwhelming me.

I was going to list the things that are on my mind and pulling me down, but what good would that do?  Instead, let me tell you what I know is true:

• My husband loves me and would drop everything if I need him
• I have some really fantastic and supportive friends
• My children are made in the image of God and they are wonderful and they have been entrusted to me
• We have fantastic love & support from our parents
• I get to go to church this morning and be greeted with the smiling, beautiful faces of many wonderful and caring ladies
• Most of all, I have a Savior who created me and loves me and cares for me and "He sees each tear that falls, and He hears me when I call" (From "He Knows My Name", one of my very favorite songs)

No matter how dark & twisty or crazy or sad I feel... these are things that I know to be true.  And they are just as true today as they were yesterday when I was perfectly happy.  And they will be just as true tomorrow, no matter what is going on in my gut.

So even though I'd like to hide by spending the entire day sitting here at my laptop... no.  I need to stand up and face the day.  (It's much easier to force myself to do that now that I can't spend my time on Facebook--I gave it up for Lent.)  I will do my best to change how I feel, and I will cling to what I know is true.

I Surrender Some

I used to have a different blog a while back.  This morning I was working on a new post that led me to look at some things on my old blog, which led me to this post.  It spoke to me all over again, and I wanted to share it with you.

All to Jesus I surrender,

All to Him I freely give.
I will ever love & trust Him,
In His presence daily live.

I surrender all.
I surrender all.
All to Thee, my blessed Savior,
I surrender all.

I sang these words in the shower this morning. As I did, a vivid picture came to mind: I was handing things over to God—concerns, situations, people—and as He took hold of them, I pulled them back. I kept telling myself to let go, but I just couldn't—wouldn't. I didn't want to completely take them back… I wanted God's Hands on them, but I wanted mine on them too. Even as I sang, "I surrender all", I couldn't make myself—even just in my little daydream—let go of what I needed to give to Him.

So today I've been pondering surrender, and what makes it so difficult. Here are my thoughts:

Is it just my imagination…?Imagination is a fun tool, an amazing gift from God. Unfortunately, we live in a fallen world, and every blessing from God can be easily twisted in our brokenness. We use our imaginations to dwell in the past and to worry about the future. The scenarios we imagine cause us to fear surrender to God, but there is an inherent flaw in that thinking. You see, when we imagine something, we are in control, not God. So God is not the one whose control we should be fearing—it's our own control that is scary! :-)

Is God good?
One of my favorite bloggers, Angie Smith, writes about the day her world turned upside-down—the day she found out that her precious little Audrey Caroline would likely never see life outside of the womb. Angie's first response was, "I think that my Jesus is the same as He was before I walked into this room." Sometimes our circumstances are bad—sometimes they are unbearable—but God remains good through it all. In fact, He alone is good: "For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God" (Romans 3:23). Why would you—why would I—want anyone who falls short to be the person making the calls?

It's all about me… right?
Are you a parent? How hard is it to surrender your children to God? Many times I have told God, "I give my children over to You", only to immediately imagine (hmmmm… there's that word again!) something bad happening to them, just to teach me a lesson or test my level of "surrenderedness". What a selfish view! To think that God would allow harm to my children only to test me assumes that I am more important to God than my children are. Even though I may learn something from a difficult situation that happens with my children, husband, or others that I love, to assume that it is happening solely for my benefit (or punishment) is unrealistic and shows a rather warped view of God and the world.

In Genesis, we learn about a boy named Joseph who is sold into slavery by his own brothers. In fact, they originally intended to kill him—out of jealousy—but were convinced by their youngest brother to merely sell him. Joseph's life goes through a series of twists and turns before he finally ends up predicting a famine, then helping Pharaoh to prepare for it so that the people of the nation do not starve. He is given a position of honor in Pharaoh's court. He is essentially put in charge of the entire nation of Egypt! And before long, Joseph's brothers are among the many who come looking for food. (To find out Joseph's full story, read Genesis 37-48.) When Joseph finally tells his brothers who he is, look at how he comforts them: "And now, do not be distressed and do not be angry with yourselves for selling me here, because it was to save lives that God sent me ahead of you." (Genesis 45:5) He doesn't say, "Don't be distressed, because look at how successful I am now!" It wasn't all about him—God had a plan to use this man in great ways for the whole nation, but it had to start with a young boy being thrown into an empty well.

And after I spent so long thinking of why I struggle with surrender, I realized how ironic it is to struggle at all. Surrender isn't a duty—it's a gift. I hold on to my worries, thinking "What if something happens to Mr. Fantastic? To the kids?" I think, "What if the economy doesn't get better and we lose our house or the business—or both?" I worry about relationships, about money, about plans for the future. But does refusing to give those things over to God mean that they're not going to happen? Of course not. As Jesus says, "Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to his life?" (Matthew 6:27) God allows us to surrender, so that we can be free from worrying about things that are not in our control.

Surrender isn't really about giving up control—because we don't really have control anyway. Surrender doesn't mean that bad things are less likely—or more likely—to happen. Surrender is about taking a deep breath, giving up our worries, and trusting the One who is in control, the One who is good, the One who sees the big picture.

I surrender all.