Led by Love

 "My idea of who I should be is at war with who I am."

I read that quote in my devotion read this morning and have been soaking it today.

I think it summarizes my struggle with motherhood the last 15 years.

I've had this idea of what a "good mom" does.

Being a "good mom" got in the way of me being a great mom.

Because while I'm not overly crafty (both my iron and my glue gun are collecting dust), I'm good at messy. I'm good at letting my kids explore and create. I'm not good at those cutesy projects that hang on the wall, but I'm good at painting how you feel, feeling the rain hit your tongue, knowing what your toes feel like deep in the mud.

Because while I'm not good at domestic chores (people clean things they don't use like baseboards?), I'm good at loving my people where they are at. I'm good at making Sweet Daddy a basic lunch every day. Making sure my Xman has the latest sensory requirement for clothing clean. Knowing my Princess prefers the jeans with rips. I'm good at stopping whatever I'm doing to read the wee one a book.

Because while I'm not good at looking like I have it all together (because I don't), I'm good at being transparent. I'm good at knowing my limits. I'm learning to express those firmly. I'm good at knowing I need Jesus.

I spent a lot of time carrying a suitcase of guilt because I wasn't those things - I wasn't pinterest craft worthy, fly lady domestic goddess bound, or "perfect" in yoga pants and a pony tail (some people pull that look off looking adorable, while I seem to look like I rolled out of bed?).

When I SLOWLY began to embrace the mess I am, that's where I found Jesus.

And that's where I began to appreciate me for who I am.

"Fear drives but love leads."

Spending our lives living in fear of others finding out who we really are drives us to live differently.

CHOOSING to LOVE ourselves for who we are.

That lets Him lead us.

Yes, my soul, find rest in God;

my hope comes from him. Psalm 62:5

Mama Warriors, take a moment today to love you for who you are. Be led by love.

Belong

"If you just stop doing, you'll start knowing. ........But what I really needed to do to save myself was let myself sink."

This morning one of Peanut's words was "belong." Each day she gets 4 words that she writes and illustrates. 

I came to look at her picture and got lost in my own thoughts for a few minutes. 

For belong, she drew a picture of herself with friends. Belong as in "Lyndie a member of this group."

I stared thinking for a bit about what it means to belong and where I feel like I belong. 

I definitely did not belong in middle or high school. I have very few "fond" memories of those years. I'm not sure college was where I belonged, or where I found myself (though I did pick up 2 unlikely quarter friends).  

I did get that expensive degree taking up space in my basement so there's that. 

In my young mothering years I did desperately want to belong somewhere. With adult people who had real conversations with me. I tried multiple mom groups, play spaces, mommy and me classes. Each leaving me feeling more like an outsider. 

I've never solidly fit in one group. I've always been a "stay at home" mom but I've also always worked part time either in or out or both of my home. I've been a homeschooling mom these last 11 years but again, I worked part time so when I wasn't schooling mine I was schooling others. I'm an advocate for natural parenting but my kids eat Little Debbies like they are good for them. I had two tweens but then was at home nursing a newborn baby. 

I've always sort of had a foot in various mom groups but you need two feet to be a full fledged member. 

Then came church. If you want to find your out of placeness start wrestling with the Bible and ask the big questions. 

In my 40s I've come into this unique space where I don't feel like I belong many places and I'm totally okay with that. 

Because you see, I belong to ME. 

  ".....break up your unplowed ground for it is time to seek the Lord" (Hosea 10:12)

So - I'm breaking up my unplowed ground. I'm working on me - and I'm giving you glimpses. 

I'm breaking up my unplowed ground, I'm sowing new seeds, I'm looking UP. Because I don't want to miss this season - I want to see Him throughout my day.

Mama Warriors, God uses imperfect people. I truly believe that where your challenges are, lies your calling. 

Your NOT belonging I very much think IS your belonging. 

It's your unplowed ground. 

I'm honestly a little bothered by Peanut's drawing because I want her sense of belonging to be something deep in her soul. A knowing. 

I don't want it to be dependent upon other people. 

I want her to continually work on her unplowed ground. I want her to feel her feet deep in the soil. 

I want that for you too!

I will Walk 500 Miles.....

 “Don’t come to the Camino looking for answers. Instead, come with an open heart and you may be surprised by what you find.”

For years I have been interested in the El Camino de Santiago. For those not familiar, it's a 500 mile Christian pilgrimage. It starts in France, goes through the Pyrenees and ends in Santiago, Spain.

El Camino de Santiago translates to "the way of Saint James." The Camino ends at the Cathedral where the remains of Saint James, the apostle to Jesus are said to be buried.

People walk the Camino for a wide variety of reasons. Some walk the whole 500ish miles, while others begin in the last leg - walking approximately 100 miles. The full trek takes 5.5 weeks (give or take), and the last leg is typically done in a full week's time.

Each person whose account I've read/seen who has walked the el Camino finishes a changed person. Perhaps a relationship grew, as happens with McCarthy and his son. Perhaps a problem is sorted. Perhaps perspective is gained. Perhaps someone merely proved to themselves that they can do hard things.

When the distractions of the world are removed, Change is inevitable.

As I began to prepare for Lent, I chose a handful of spiritual and other non fiction books to read/listen to. This past week I have been listening to "Walking with Sam." Andrew McCarthy tells of his journey of walking the Camino with his 19 year old son, Sam. Yes. St Elmo's Fire McCarthy.

McCarthy had walked the Camino once before, in his youth, and is now experiencing it all anew through the eyes of his son.

I've been thinking today about my fascination with the Camino.

I think the idea of a pilgrimage with a clear end interests me.

So much of our spiritual journeys are open ended. We are unsure of when this trial or challenge will end. We are uncertain of the outcome, the consequences, the length.

Maybe this is why I love Lent as well.

Lent is the pilgrimage to Easter.

A journey with a definite destination.

This Lent I've chosen to make changes to my daily routines that encourage me to be fully present.

One change I've made is fasting from FB scrolling. I've been disappointed in how many times I randomly reach for my phone. It's been eye opening at minimum.

I don't think Jesus cares if I use or fast from facebook.

I do think Jesus cares if I am SEEING the opportunities He places in my path.

I do think He cares if I am choosing CONNECTION over consumption.

These weeks leading up to Easter are a good time to look in the mirror and challenge yourself - how can I be more Christ like?

What would that change look like?

When we arrive at our own Santiago on Easter morning, will we be changed people?

Small Sips

 Intentions really boil down to one thing: make a plan where you might otherwise operate on autopilot."

For Christmas Sweet Daddy gave me this mug for my hot tea.

I spend my morning in and out, taking kids here and there. Homer is down to one good cup holder option and it's narrow. This mug fits perfectly. As an added bonus, it keeps my hot tea hot for nearly an entire day. Crazy right?

For that reason, my cup typically lasts for several hours. Small sips.

There's no rushing the tea drinking.

No big gulps.

I've been thinking about this small sips thing this week.

What if I inhaled my peace, my Jesus, in small sips? All day?

What if instead of trying to take in some big gulp in the morning falsely named "quiet time" and thinking that would get me through the day - what if I trusted there would be enough in each moment?

What if instead of worrying about each bill or unexpected expense, I trusted there would be enough in each moment?

What if instead of worrying about all the biggies with each kid, I trusted Him holding them in the moment is enough?

What if "enough" is defined differently than I think?

What if "enough" is found in small sips?

What if "enough" is found in trusting that each moment is covered?

Mama Warriors, small sips.

No big gulps.

One moment at a time.

2/7/2020

Converse Shoes

 "Don't let what's wrong with you keep you from worshipping what's right with God. "

I woke up a couple of times this week with gentle giant's shoes next to my bed.

There was a time in my parenthood walk where this would have driven me crazy. These are not MY shoes. This is not where they go. How hard would it be to pick up your own shoes and put them away?

Now, I wake up and see these shoes and smile. I gently move them to outside his door, for he will still be sleeping, so he can put them away.

You see on this end of mothering I don't view these shoes by my bed as some failure of mine. They are not some indication that I didn't teach my kids to pick up after themselves.

I view them as a great success.

You see when the gentle giant comes in from wherever he has been, I am often already in my bed doing the night time routine with Peanut.

He always comes to me. Sits on the end of my bed. Tells me about the practice, the game, the church service. I hear about what silly thing some teenage boy has done or said. Or something that's frustrated him about a practice or game. He takes off his shoes while he talks.

Then he's off to eat and shower and I would guess watch endless Tik Tok.

But he always comes to find me first.

These moments remind me of how we are often home base for our kids.

They fiercely want to be independent and are spreading those new wings of freedom quickly.

But they come back to home base every now and then and check in.

Reassure themselves that we're still here.

I don't kid myself. This kid doesn't tell me everything. I'm pretty sure at his current age and season of life, there are things I don't want to know so I can sleep a little better at night.

But every night he finds me and he gently touches home base.

I think there is something about parenting that teaches us about the relationship God wants to have with us.

He wants to be home base.

He wants to be the place we begin and end our day with, a place where we feel the safest and most loved. He wants us to consistently check in.

Mama Warriors, I think one of the most important things we can do is to make consistent times that we are still so our kids always know they can find us.

I try to be in my kitchen as the eldest leaves for work each day. So I'm there, available. I can remind her she's loved before she heads out for the day.

I show up for dinner at the table with no phone so my people know they have my attention.

I sweep Peanut up and lay down with her for a bit every night before we put her to bed.

Remember that God is just as available to you.

Waiting for you to touch home base.

Let yourself lean into that.

Tom Lake

 “I look at my girls, my brilliant young women. I want them to think I was better than I was, and I want to tell them the truth in case the truth will be useful. Those two desires do not neatly coexist, but this is where we are in the story.”

This week I curled up in my favorite chair, complete with my favorite snack and favorite dog, and dove into the book club book selection - Tom Lake.

I was thinking this week, as I marked my favorite quotes, noted the things that spoke to me, how much of a book (or movie for that matter) is what you bring to the table.

Tom Lake is the story of a mother quarantined at home during COVID with her 3 children (college/young adult age). In response to their curiosity, she begins to tell them the story of what led her to their father.

Throughout the story, you see her wrestle with how much do you tell them? What do you include? What do you leave out?

These young adults are surprised to find out their mother wasn't always the woman they know now.

It's a slow moving book that is really just getting to know the main character.

As I read, I wrestled with Lara.

You see, where Lara is now is never where Lara wanted to be. It wasn't the big dream.

How do you tell your children that while now they are the big dream, they weren't the big dream originally? How one day you wake up and realize the carnival isn't what you wanted but it's really the slow farm life?

Do you tell them the bumps along the rode? The poor choices?

If you don't, then how do they see you as a person who had bumps? Who made poor choices?

Somewhere between the high light real and reality is where I think I've landed.

Dispersing information to the young adults as the topics come up. Sharing tid bits, here and there.

Mama Warriors, I think all relationships live somewhere between the highlight real and reality.

I share enough of the hard in my home, in my heart so that others know I have space for the hard.

My house, heart, home - it's a mess too.

If you need someone to stand in the gap because marriage, parenting, existing is hard - I'm your gal.

There's no prize for the influencer worthy life.

I think we show people Jesus best in the midst of the mess.

We say - hey, I found Him in my mess, so I know He's in yours.

Bake the Cake

 "Jesus gives us peace but we are responsible for maintaining it."

On Sunday Peanut and I visited a church for the 3rd time for Sunday service.

When we entered the building, Ms. Judy spotted us and exclaimed "Michele - stay right there!"

Impressed that Ms. Judy knows my name, I did just that. I stayed right there.

She came rushing back with this home made cake she had made us. Accompanied with this beautiful card about how we were welcomed, prayed for, and wanted.

I've been thinking about Ms. Judy and her cake this week.

She had no idea that we'd come back a 3rd Sunday, or even that it would be last Sunday.

She came prepared.

She felt led to bake the cake, to write the card. She did her part.

I like to think God did His.

We showed up.

I've been thinking this week what it looks like to follow the call of obedience.

To pray expectantly.

Because Jesus knows I like to learn things the hard way, Peanut has been very sick this week.

Out of nowhere Tuesday evening she started running a 103.5 fever consistently. No meds, no cool wash cloths, no remedies are bringing it down.

For those who know Peanut well, you know this usually means she's also throwing up.

Tuesday night I followed Ms. Judy's lead.

I prayed expectantly that Peanut would not throw up. I prayed it over her all night long.

And she didn't. Not once. Which is unheard of in Peanut illness inventory.

I wonder how often God is waiting for me to do my part. To answer my call. To pray expectantly.

So He can move.

Peanut is still running a high fever today. But because she's not throwing up, I'm able to keep her hydrated. Which you know in the parenting sick kids game is the majority of the ball game.

Each time I look at her I'm reminded that "what's important to me, is important to God."

Mama Warriors, I think sometimes we get caught up in the overwhelmingness of the big and forget the call to the small.

I want Peanut healed but forget to recognize that right now I just need her able to rest.

Ms. Judy doesn't have some big outreach program planned. She isn't creating events to draw the whole community in.

Ms. Judy is baking the cake for the ones God brings through the doors. Once she knew we existed, we were hers to minister to.

The call to the small.

And hey, there just might be Southern small town cake involved.