Fixer Uppers

 "God says, "I didn't ask you to become new and improved today. That wasn't the goal. You were broken down and strange yesterday, and you still are today. The only one freaked out about it is you."

Halloween always makes me a little sentimental. A wee bit sappier than usual. Sweet Daddy and I moved into this house just before Halloween in 2000. We handed out candy together with boxes scattered everywhere. We were engaged, small wedding plans were in the works. I made a big pot of chili - that became the tradition.

In 2001, on Halloween I would take not 1 but 4 pregnancy tests just to be sure. I bought one of those scary "Boo - we're pregnant" cards and crossed out the "ha ha ha" on the inside. I learned chili and pregnancy don't go together. The next year we would pull the Princess around in her ladybug costume, our first Halloween as a family of 3. Halloween of 2003 I suspected the Xman was growing but it would be another week before we knew for sure. And the following year, we would pull two kids around in the wagon - a Spiderman and a Princess. Each year, we would make chili, trick or treat, and snuggle in for The Great Pumpkin with Charlie Brown. Some holidays are about rushing from here to there, but Halloween has always been ours. Just the 2 of us. The 3 of us. The 4 of us. and now, the 5 of us.

While we said "I do" on April Fool's day, it's always Halloween that has been our roots. It's where we began our own traditions. It's when our family made our house a home. It's the beginning of a great story.

I look around our house sometimes and forget it's our home. That it's lived in and loved. I get overwhelmed with dingy carpet, peeling cabinets, a front porch that is falling apart, and an a/c unit that is ticked off it's still in the 80's outside.

Our home has grown into a fixer upper.

Other than those rare folks on HGTV, no one wants to live in a Fixer Upper. We all want "move in ready," new homes.

I look in the mirror and think the same thing about me. Man, I'm looking rough these days? I'm a fixer upper in need of a haircut, some clothes that fit, and something I probably can't even define.

And that's just what is visible. There's the anxiety, the fear, the health struggles, the brokenness.

I'm thankful we serve a God of Fixer Uppers. He's a Chip and Joanna Gaines God - looking for the worst, with the desire of using the growth to His glory.

We serve an "as is" God. Come as you are. Fixer Upper and all.

Our God appreciates character over perfection.

He's not swayed by our brokenness. Our level of imperfection is not new to Him.

There's a song I play over and over on youtube because it speaks to me. Reminds me:

I come broken to be mended

I come wounded to be healed

I come desperate to be rescued

I come empty to be filled

I come guilty to be pardoned

By the blood of Christ the Lamb

And I'm welcomed with open arms

Praise God, just as I am

Just as I am. Fixer Upper and all.

9 But he said to me, “My grace is all you need. My power is strongest when you are weak.” So I am very happy to brag about how weak I am. Then Christ’s power can rest on me. 2 Cor 12:9

Mama Warriors, Halloween is a time to dress up, be something different. Pretend. And that's fun for a night. Lucky for us though, we serve a God of Fixer Uppers. There's no need to dress up and pretend every day. You are worthy, just as you are. Broken and beautiful. Bittersweet.

Above Ground Pool Life

 "There are people who have it all together and everything works out. We are not those people. We don't have an inground pool life. We have an above ground life." (Mike Heck, The Middle)

It seems when life is particularly crazy I take on some cleaning challenge. Which given the daily state of my house is almost comical.

This week I decided I'd try the "stripping" thing I've seen online. You basically put hot water, borax, washing soda, and laundry detergent in your tub and then put the clothing you want to strip. I chose Xman's baseball gear - go big or go home right?

I followed the directions and every hour I went and stirred these clothes in my bathtub.

In the videos I watched, the water gets nasty and debris is in your tub. You then wash the clothes in your washer and they are "stripped."

I'm not sure what I was expecting but Xman's baseball gear is still filthy. My bathtub is not overly dirty.

Basically, like always, I'm not a Pinterest, Tik Tok challenge kind of girl.

Our house is the kind of house where you have to go old school. If you want something cleaner you can't soak it and leave it. You have to scrub it.

We are not in ground pool kind of folks.

We are Walmart metal frame pool all the way.

I often expect an inground pool kind of life because I seem to be surrounded by images of it. Moms who make it to everything. Families with the perfect family photo shoot. Marriages who are constantly out on date nights exuding joy. Kids posting gushing "I love my mom" posts.

We are messy over here. At least once a week one of the teenagers gets out of my car and slams the door with no "thank you for driving my cranky rear end around." We are happy to find a half hour to watch a program before sleep together and even then one of us typically dozes off. I can't get my kids to let me take a picture and then goodness gracious should you post it , there will be a tirade. At least one appliance isn't working all the time. Let's not talk about the consequences if it rains.

I guess the bottom line is I expect life to not look like life.

If I'm not careful I can spend all of my time angry, sad or disappointed I'm not living an inground pool life.

Instead of embracing the joys of the above ground pool life.

God has not forgotten about me. I know that because every day has challenges. So, He's growing me. Constantly.

Like any good parent, He's not okay letting me sit around sipping sweet tea in a lounge chair. I'm up using the skimmer trying to keep frogs from living in our above ground pool.

This morning an adorable 7 year old greeted me with a super scary boo excited to spend the day with me. A very tall moody 16 year old said "I love you Mom" just before I drifted off last night. An aloof 18 year old sent me a text this week with a picture of herself drinking a coke, a connection. A loving husband assured me that even though I'm currently limping and sleeping on a heating pad, I am loved deeply.

Above ground pools build connections.

It's a lot of work and it's never easy. It's not glamorous or fancy.

"The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience but where he stands at times of challenges and controversy." (MLK Jr)

Mama Warriors as you embark on this festive and fun holiday, I challenge you to rise above complaining about how this may not be an inground pool Halloween. We all may be creating above ground pool fun this year.

Maybe that's why COVID hasn't been as challenging for some of us- some of us are used to above ground pool living? Some of us are used to things not working out, plans changing, expecting the unexpected.

Change shakes us up and grows us.

Let's embrace that different is okay. Maybe even better.

(Published October 2020) 

Knower

 "Be where your feet are."

I crawled into bed one night this week and then sighed loudly.

"I have to go check the smoke detector" I tell SD as I get back out of bed for the third time.

To which he replies, "I don't remember you worrying this much before."

I wish I could say I had some kind, calm response but instead I gave my usual "I'm the ONLY one who does not take the battery out when I cook. And I'm the ONLY one who puts the battery back in regardless of who takes it out. How are you going to feel when the fire department shows up to the burned down house and we say, oh - there was no battery in the smoke detector so we didn't know until it was too late?"

9:30 PM me is not as grace giving as 5 AM me.

As I walked into the kitchen, and of course found it popped out since one of my teens ate a late dinner, I began to wonder - before what?

I didn't worry this much before we had teen drivers?

I didn't worry this much before the gastro mess?

I didn't worry this much before we had kids?

I didn't worry this much before we bought a house?

I didn't worry this much before I became we?

I don't know when "before" began but I think it slowly creeped in.

There's a heaviness associated with being the knower of ALL the things.

I know who goes to the dentist, where and when. Ditto for the doctor and any specialists.

I know whose sleeping more than normal and my mom radar is kicked in. Getting sick? Working too much? Eating enough?

I know who has bedtime worries and needs extra reassurance.

I know how many millimeters the cave in Peanut's chest is what the statistics are whether she'll eventually need surgery.

I know how much the dog eats and when. I know his routines and his comforts. Where the vet is, when he goes.

I know who eats what and who orders what where.

I know the dishwasher isn't anchored and falls out if the dog jumps in it. I know the oven only has 350 - pick any number you want, you are only getting "about" 350.

I know you can't wash clothes if it's been raining a full day.

I know how much our car insurance is increasing, our medical insurance is increasing, gas is increasing, groceries are increasing. Want to know what's not increasing?

I'm the knower of ALL the things.

I also know I'm the only one who knows all the things.

At some point, you can't be the knower of ALL the things without becoming the worrier of ALL the things.

There's an unspoken baggage weight of being the knower.

Not the doer, but the knower.

The problem is you can't go back to the before.

My newest book is called "Be where your feet are."

That's good wisdom for me.

Present, grounded and thriving is the goal.

Mama Warriors, you can't go back to the before.

Being the knower is here to stay.

You can't control or predict the future.

You can only "be where your feet are."

You can only learn to embrace the blessings of being the knower.

I know that Mo needs hugs and lots of petting when he wakes up. I get the excited doggie kisses.

I know Peanut needs me to pray over her and then pause, and listen. For after the prayer is when her worries come. I get to be the one who hears them. Who comforts and encourages her in those worries.

I know my teenagers are learning to balance work, school, friends, extras. I get to be home base. Choosing to be still at certain times of the day so they can touch home base before moving on.

I know SD carries all the knowing and worrying of hundreds of students. I get to carry all the things for ours all day so he can focus there.

The get tos out weigh the knows if you let them.

Big Slide

 "Being challenged in life is inevitable; being defeated is optional." Roger Crawford

Last Saturday I loaded Mo and Peanut up and we spent the morning at a sweet little park in Oxford. It's one of Peanut's favorites and has a few playground features the other parks we frequent do not (such as a zip line!).

We hunkered down for about 3 hours. We cheered on a Breast Cancer walk. We met multiple families just enjoying the pretty day like us. And as we were leaving, we watched some moms set up for a birthday party.

Somewhere in there, 4 kids unsupervised showed up at the park. No grown up. The oldest (a boy) was about Lyndie's age and then they were like stepping stones (3 sisters) down from there.

The 3 sisters hurriedly joined the playground fun.

Big brother walked around the playground. Ever watchful. Taking his big brother job very seriously.

He never played. Never let himself laugh or get caught up in the creative games the girls made up.

My mama heart hurt for him. So much responsibility for such a small boy.

I wanted to remind him that he was just a young boy himself. That the playground was for him too. I wanted to offer to hawk watch those 3 precious sisters and take that burden from him.

The Mama Bear in me (which for some reasons my own kids call a "Karen thing") couldn't leave until I knew they had an adult nearby. Finally one of the smaller ones got thirsty and big brother walked her to an adult in a car a block away to get a drink.

I've been thinking about those kids this week.

How the 3 sisters played so joyfully. Unaware of the responsibilities that come with playground supervision.

How the big brother focused on every possible danger. He stood under them as they zip lined - they may fall. He stood a few feet from them as they wanted to come to meet MO - strangers can be dangerous. He walked them to the car - cars may not see little girls.

He was acutely aware of all the ways he was responsible for them.

So much so that he was unable to enjoy all they had to offer.

The responsibilities sucked the joy out of the park day.

Finding joy WITHIN the responsibilities may just be the key to happiness.

Peanut desperately wanted to teach Mo to slide.

I realized how much like the little boy I often am. Bench sitting. Watching for danger. Overthinking all the things.

When there's a whole playground literally within steps of my feet.

When there were no children on the playground, Peanut and I spent 20 minutes or so teaching Mo to go up the steps and down the slide.

Never has a child been so giddy with pure joy the way Peanut was the first time Mo put two paws on that slide and they got away from him. He went sliding fast and loved it. Right back to the steps to do it again he went.

Over and over we went up up the stairs and down the slide. With our background noise happy barks and belly laughs.

Mama Warriors, adulting is serious business. The responsibilities and "to do's" can feel overwhelming.

But I firmly believe we were made to feel great joy in the little things in life.

If we aren't careful, we'll all be little 8 year old boys standing just feet away from a full life while choosing to life in a just okay one.

Psalm 16:11

“You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.”

Let's all get off the benches this weekend and go down the big slide.

Bark and Cry

     At 1:30 AM, I heard Mo whining.

As I am the only person in my house who hears dogs or children awake in the night, I decided to give him a bit and see if he would resettle. Often if a teenager gets a drink or goes to the bathroom, the dog will think it's morning but then realize it's not.

The whining turned to incessant barking. Which then got louder.

I found my glasses and my slippers (because I'm an old lady now) and went to investigate.

I let Mo out of his crate and he started freaking out at our back door. Out he went.

Barking and carrying on (you're welcome neighbors, especially you cat lady who has been annoying us for decades......).

Turns out there was a possum in my backyard.

Now, Mo is still a 5 month old baby and has not seen a possum.

He was torn. Should I cry? Should I bark?

So for a half hour he did both while I unsuccessfully called "Come."

The possum decided it's safest bet was to play dead.

I chased Mo, Mo cried and barked.

Eventually, Mo looked at me in that "What do we do Mommy way?" I looked at Mo and said "Baby it's okay. Let's go IN."

He came in, gave me big kisses, needed lots of water after all that crying and barking, and went right back to bed. Slept until this morning.

I laid there awake (because that's a lot of activity at 2 AM) and thought "all that sweet baby needed was for him to tell me he was upset by this, and me to reassure him that it was okay."

Then he let it go.

He figured I know what I'm doing.

So much so he laid right down and went right back to sleep.

I have a lot to learn from this dog it seems.

So many times I lay all the worries down at the feet of the Cross, only to stay up half the night mentally walking back through them.

No peace. No sleep.

Maybe, when we say those prayers, Jesus says "Baby I hear you. It's okay."

Mama Warriors, maybe you, like me, can't decide if we should cry or yell.

Maybe you just want someone to understand the burden. The fear.

He hears you.

You can bark and you can cry.

Baby he's got this. It's okay. You can rest.

Zipper

 "Kids are the best psychotherapy available to a conscious person. They take us back to the landscapes of our own painful and thrilling childhoods, they are always the first to identify our weak spots, but most of all they are a deep mirror that confronts us with the fact that we never were and never will be perfect."

This week it is (finally thank you Jesus) jacket weather in the morning if you weigh barely 50 pounds.

Yesterday I stood at the bottom of my steps and looked up at those sweet brown eyes, that darling freckled face and I watched her struggle with the jacket zipper.

It's been 9 solid months since us in the deep south have needed a jacket, and Peanut and I - we don't wear clothing with zippers. We are all about the drawstring baby.

She struggled for a bit and I had that parent debate you have in your head.

Zip it up myself so we could move on with walking the dog who is now pulling at the leash and freaking out because we should be out the gate by now.

Or remind her that she's an amazing problem solver and encourage her to breath in the flower, blow out the candle. She's got this.

I went with the later. Kid 3 and all. I'm a slow learner but I'm getting there.

Later that morning I pulled into the Goodwill donation drive to drop some boxes. An older gentleman asked me to open my trunk.

I've been driving my car 9 months now and I don't know how to open the trunk. I'm looking around on the floor, on the dash for some button to push. Feeling rushed and embarrassed. Who doesn't know how to open the hatchback of their own car?

I decided to just get out of my car and open it manually - which I know how to do. I mean, I do get the groceries every week.

This man was obviously so frustrated with me.

After he removed the 3 boxes, he said to me "You know how to close it?"

Sigh.

My car doesn't close its back on its own so yes, sir, I do know how to get out of the car and close it myself. And I did.

I had to breath in my flower and blow out my candle.

He was obviously not the kind who could wait for someone to figure out a zipper on a jacket.

As I went through my day I realized how little space people have for those learning new things.

I thought about how we make each other feel when we react to people who can't open their trunk at the Goodwill.

And I thought about the story it makes me tell myself.

How it changes the narrative in my own head. Makes me question my own everything.

What if the Goodwill attendant knew the mental battle I fight just to drive the car? What if he knew that breaking my routine that Thursday morning was really hard for me? What if he knew what even piles of medical records don't show about the journey I've walked?

What if our default was grace for each other?

What if we didn't need the story in order to be the Jesus?

Mama Warriors, maybe you like me are one of those people who can tell a story in a facial expression or a well placed sigh.

Let's train ourselves to respond to the zipper moments with a smile.

Because if our faces don't say "I will wait for you to learn" - our kids will grow up feeling like an inconvenience.

People who slow down our day because they can't find their shoes, or didn't pack the backpack.

To change that facial expression, you have to change your heart toward them.

Life's about giving people the space to figure out the zipper.