Weeds

 "It is the narrowness of the riverbanks, after all, that gives strength to the river."

13 days ago I came down with what I thought was the worst stomach virus I had ever encountered. The symptoms were similar to others I know that have had this latest strand. It stayed 48 hours and then the worst seemed to subside. Only to come back with a fuller vengeance 3 days later. Enough to warrant a visit to the ER.

After labs and scans, it was determined that I have some infection and it's taken root in my intestines. Set up shop.

In 13 days I've survived on gatorade, toast and rice. I've lost 10 pounds.

For those who walked gastro with me originally, it's eerily reminiscent.

Step one is two intense antibiotics to kill ALL the things. We know what antibiotics do to the gut right?

This was step one last time too.

As they took me to have a CT scan in the ER (my first ride on a stretcher), I prayed "Please let the tests show SOMETHING."

If you walked gastro with me the first time, you'll remember all my tests were fine. I was literally wasting away but on paper perfectly healthy.

As the doctor explained my high white blood cell count, the inflammation, it was hard to remember that this is an answered prayer.

Often I think our prayers are answered in ways we don't expect or want.

I was sure my issue was my appendix. Dr. Google said so.

I was thinking this week how I'd rather have anything else than stomach stuff. Stomach stuff takes me on an emotional rollercoaster that isn't good for me.

These meds give me insomnia. A rash. I've spent years working on my sleep. I was finally sleeping more often than not.

Stomach stuff is my weakness.

As I've endured the last 6 days of meds, I've been thinking how I always seem to be hit at the same spot.

Physically. Emotionally. Spiritually.

Our weaknesses make us vulnerable.

I think they are supposed to BUT we are supposed to ask for help carrying them.

These spots we continue to be under attack in are made to grow us stronger.

Mama Warriors, in my make shift extended driveway right now there is a dandelion growing heartily amongst the gravel.

Dandelions represent a rebirth. A return to life. Just like us.

I looked at this little dandelion growing strongly amiss the hard. And thought, I can grow too in the hard roughness around me.

As you see this flowers, pick one this week and put it somewhere you can see it.

Remind yourself that you, too, can be strong and grow amongst the gravel.

With His help.

Changed by Easter

 "Joy is a mystery because it can happen anywhere, anytime, even under the most unpromising circumstances, even in the midst of suffering with tears in its eyes." Beuchner

As I pulled out my spring decorations just after Valentine's day, I realized that other than the two gnomes Peanut and I bought at the Aldi, I own nothing that I LOVE.

All our "decorations" are an assortment of kid toys, books, movies. A hand me down item here and there.

In the quest for minimalism in our home, I'm purging that which we don't use, that I don't love, or that is just too "much."

For this year, I bought one item. This Lent spiral. We put a candle in the first spot and every morning of Lent, Peanut and I lit the candle and studied the bible.

We decided for Lent not only would we lay something down (Peanut fasted from lemonade and I fasted from social media scrolling), but more importantly, we'd pick something up.

We'd take the 40 days of Lent to create a new habit.

We'd aim to be changed by Lent.

For the last 40 days I have done a deep dive into the story of the Resurrection. I started every day with a devotional reading. Peanut and I listened to 3 of the Narnia books and did a devotional together on the parallels. I joined a weekly bible study studying the "5 R's of Easter." Peanut and I memorized the books of the Old Testament as we studied the prophecies. I listened to Father Mike read me the bible and tell me its history. I read several non fiction books about the Resurrection.

Friday I attended a Tenebrae service for the first time. As I sat in the dark sanctuary and listened to the story of the crucifixion read aloud, I was deeply moved.

Over the last 40 days, I have written down at least one thing that spoke to me in my studies every single day. As I flip through my notebook this morning, I'm thankful.

Thankful to be waking this morning to an empty tomb.

In my bible study, the teacher said "If you are too busy for God, you are too busy."

If you had asked me 40 days ago if I spent time with God every day, I would have said yes. A resounding yes.

This morning I would tell you not like I need to.

As the reader read "I am thirsty" Friday night, I thought, yes. I went into Lent deeply thirsty for MORE.

Because it is finished, we should all THIRST for more.

Much like in our physical bodies, by the time we are thirsty - our well is way too dry.

Mama Warriors as we wake this morning to Easter baskets, new church outfits and luncheons to attend, let's harness that excitement about the Resurrection.

Let's vow to wake up every day with that enthusiasm for worshipping Him.

Let's be changed by Easter.

Between Two Doors

 God never expects us to answer a question he has not yet asked. He always speaks with clarity." Father Mike

22 years ago today I stood outside these doors in a white dress I still love.

These doors lead into the chapel. As I peeked through the bits of glass, I could see SD standing on the altar. Waiting for me.

What you can't see in this picture is there is a set of doors behind me. They lead outside.

My stepdad and I stood in between these doors for a bit. He looked at me and said "We don't have to go through those doors. We can go out these. Get a drink. It's your choice."

I know he would have been totally fine with either set of doors. He wanted me to have the opportunity to make this decision. Even if it was in the very last moment.

It's a funny story we like to tell now. Well, SD still isn't sure it's so funny .

I was thinking about that moment this week. How I can be absolutely sure that I CHOSE to marry SD. I chose the hand carved beautiful doors. I knowingly walked through them. Ready.

That may be the last moment I remember being totally sure of which door to pick.

I've carried that moment into parenting.

It's important to me that my kids know it's NEVER too late to pick the other door.

Feel like this high school isn't right for you at the end of your junior year? You don't have to go back for your senior year.

Played 3 years of a varsity sport but feel like this last year you want time/space to do other things? You don't have to do something just because you always have.

Sometimes it also means walking through the door with them because they CHOSE that even if I feel its the wrong choice.

Even if I prayed for a different choice.

Even if I want something for them I feel is "better."

Once they say "this is the door" - it's getting on board.

This is where the train is going. So I'm either taking in the scenery or I'm going to miss the ride.

Over the years we've welcomed several children into our home whose parents are missing the train ride. Who've dug in their heels or this issue or that. Who've decided their version of religion, truth, or what's societally "acceptable" is more important than loving their kid well.

My heart breaks for those moms and dads. For those kids.

So I plant deep seeds in Peanut. Preparing the way.

No matter what, I will love you.

No matter what, You are fearfully and wonderfully made in His image.

No matter what, I will show up.

Mama Warriors, Peanut and I are walking through a mom/daughter devotion series and yesterday I was struck by my reading. The author said if you think your child is too young for the big conversations - you are probably wrong.

The time is BEFORE anyone else mentions the new vocabulary.

You want to be the first one to give information because then you are the source. You are the person who can talk about big uncomfortable things.

So that when they face two sets of doors, they will want you to be by their side.

And they will know, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you will walk through either door with them.

Lenty

 “I have learned things in the dark that I could never have learned in the light, things that have saved my life over and over again, so that there is really only one logical conclusion. I need darkness as much as I need light.” ― Barbara Brown Taylor

I'm going to confess that today I definitely know why Jesus had to spend 40 days in the wilderness ALONE to process all the big things.

One of the hardest things about parenting for me is that there is very little opportunity for a "pause."

When there's a lot to process, when things feel overwhelming - the people I gave birth to? They keep talking to me. They keep needing things. They keep only thinking about themselves.

Each morning Peanut and I light this candle as we count the 40 days of Lent. We take a moment of silence(ish) to reflect on how Lent is meant to show us our NEED for God.

I've been thinking about Jesus wandering through the wilderness.

And how many times in my life, I have felt that deep loneliness of walking something hard.

I know that we are meant to go THROUGH the wilderness. Not take up camp there.

But what are we meant to learn?

"The wilderness is a place of discipline, development, and honing. A place of ENCOUNTER. A place to see beyond our humanity to the reality of who God is."

We are walking a rocky boundary battle with one of our children.

I keep thinking any day now they are going to say "Oh yes Mom/Dad. I can see how you only want what is best for me. This rule is good for my emotional/mental/physical health."

Yes go ahead and laugh with me (at me?).

No one enjoys someone else placing discipline on you that you will not place upon your self.

A long time parenting motto here has been "Choose to be self disciplined OR chose to be disciplined."

I like to think perhaps God is chuckling a little at how I, too, am not readily saying "Oh I see God. This wilderness wandering is good for me. I don't understand but I'm sure you know what's best."

Much like my own prodigal child I am balking. I know what's best for me?

Right?

Mama Warriors, maybe this time of year feels very Lenty for you as well.

Maybe it feels like a dark wilderness.

Where the house keeps leaking, the dr wants more tests, the children are protesting the rules, the appliances keep breaking, the relationships feel hard. And more.

Know that a time in the wilderness.....

A time of Lent.....

Is meant to remind us of our need.

Is meant to give us a hunger for something that is missing in our lives.

What is your wilderness wandering made you hungry for?

All rea

Access

 "Like God, we must require from people the responsibility necessary to grant the amount of access we allow them to have in our lives. Too much access without the correct responsibility is detrimental." Terkeurst

There is this weird season of parenting where the people you parent feel like the number on their birth certificate entitles them to privileges and freedom that they haven't earned.

For those of you whose kids are super compliant, your best friend, and you are sailing toward adulthood. This post is not for you.

This is for the mama's who are walking the hard steps toward graduation, toward independence, toward whatever comes next.

Maybe not just the mama's. Maybe anyone who is doing life with other people who struggle with boundaries.

One of the many waves that have been crashing around here is boundary work.

I realized in the last two weeks that while I sacrifice greatly for these young adults in our home, when they are asked to sacrifice it's as if I've asked them to live through the great depression.

I've decided that relationships that are one way streets aren't healthy for me.

Some of that is definitely the invincible, endless time stupidity of childhood.

Will they regret one day that they ate yet another meal with a friend rather than watching the Super Bowl with their dad?

Will it bother them that their mother asked them to show up for her once and they didn't?

I'm not battling these folks "making" them do what's right.

People who file taxes should know what is right. And they should chose it.

And if they don't, then they will walk the hard consequences of relationships broken just like anyone else. They will see what happens when trust is broken. They will walk hard repair. If they choose.

I've been pondering this week how one balances making their kids feel important while not making them think the world revolves around them?

The literature suggests that all of this is very normal. The whole frontal brain is not developed, self centered nonsense.

I'm pushing back.

Maybe it's "normal" to only want to chose what YOU want, but it's not okay.

Mama Warriors, maybe you too find the hardest boundaries are the ones we must set with the people who live in our own homes.

I would challenge that these are the most necessary.

We set the tone for how the relationships in their life will work.

Access comes with responsibility.

You, and I, are worthy of more. Of better.

2 PM

 "During the day it is hard to remember that all the stars in the sky are out there all the time, even when I am too blinded by the sun to see them." Barbara Brown Taylor

Sometimes there are those weeks where the waves keep crashing and it feels hard to find your footing.

I started this week with a root canal on Monday.

The dentist may be my least favorite place on the planet. I arrived with my fuzzy blanket, a downloaded audio book (Ramona Quimby Age 8 because it's what we owned), and enough anxiety for multiple patients.

As this was my first experience with a root canal, I wasn't aware I would have to sign a consent form.

Item one on the consent form says that some 95% of root canal procedures are successful.

Item two tells you ALL about the possibilities for the other 5%.

No one had told me about the other 5%.

In the other 5% range anything from a minor infection needing antibiotics, to a loss of the tooth, to death. Yes, death.

I shared with the kind hygienist that I was going to sign her form but if she didn't get some gas flowing immediately afterword, she was going to lose me.

I'm positive my chart has some kind of special star on it to let everyone know that I am "special" at the dentist. These people are nicer to me than anyone else is. They tell me how great I'm doing (when I'm clearly not). They tell me how brave it is for me to come in for these procedures even when it's hard. They consistently ask me if I'm okay.

I left the dentist reminding myself to add this to my list of "I can do hard things" that I read to myself anytime I'm challenged.

My devotion read this morning talked about how inside each of us lives a 2 AM me and a 2 PM me.

2 AM me is full of the worry. The "what if." Everything seems overwhelming and dark at 2 AM.

2 PM me is the get er done. Finding a plan. Pushing through. Find the light.

The problem, for me, is that often 2 AM me shows up at all hours of the day. Like at an 8 AM root canal.

It's hard for me to live into 2 PM me.

I think Jesus has space for the 2 AM me but wants me to lean into, live into the 2 PM me.

I've been thinking on this wave crashing week how we get there.

How 2 PM me takes the lead.

Mama Warriors, maybe you struggle with your 2 AM worries wanting to take a foothold in the day time.

I'm finding that reminding myself of the many ways Jesus has shown up before and worked things out for me, whether I would have chosen that outcome or not, is key for me.

I started making a list.

In 1988 he gifted me a safe place to live. I was 13 and I'd known at least 8 years that we needed one. In his timing, in his way.

In 2013 he gifted me with my just one more. A 9 year prayer answered in his timing, in his way.

In 2020 he gifted me a new gastro med to try. I'd been sick six years and had lost over 100 pounds. A prayer answered in his timing, in his way.

I could list many more before, during and after those three but those three benchmarks remind me that sometimes the end is far away.

So at 2 AM when I'm worrying, I can list my benchmarks. Space for worrying now, but also space for 2 PM me that knows that hope exists.

Pity Party

 "We must sip in the sufferings of today, so we don't drown in the devastations of tomorrow."

Our fish, "Tadje," is 2.5 years old. Over the course of the last month, we can tell that he's old and won't be with us much longer. Considering we don't know how long he lived in his cup at Petsmart before coming to live with us, he's fish old.

We've been slowly pointing out the signs of aging to Peanut and helping her to be ready for the day he no longer is alive.

It's a luxury in some ways - this time of preparation.She's spent a lot of time by his tank. She's talked to him. She's processing.

It's a burden in other ways - this time of waiting. We know the end is coming. He's loved. He will be missed. There's this stomach dropping moment every morning when I stand by his tank and try to see if he will swim.

I've been thinking about this idea of funerals as we explain to Peanut what a funeral is and what we will do when the time comes.

How a funeral is a piece of the grieving process.

A hard piece.

This made me think that a funeral is actually a gift in many ways. People acknowledge this deep change in your life. It's recognized. Valued. For a moment, your world pauses as you process. It's accepted.

I'm wondering why there aren't funerals for other things.

Like for your "normal."

When your world turns, and things aren't as you had hoped, expected, or longed. When there is hard change. There is grief.

But no funeral.

No recognition of the hard. No pause in your daily life.

It's healthy to grieve. To take time to say "this is not what I imagined."

I think we feel some shame in that because it seems to say at the same time "I don't want God's plan for me."

But maybe it doesn't. Maybe it says "I don't understand."

I feel like we put so much pressure on ourselves to "be okay" that we've failed to acknowledge that sometimes we are not okay. Sometimes others are not okay.

Grief doesn't just come after death. Grief comes after many different types of circumstances.

Mama Warriors, I say, if you are grieving something - put on your pity part hat for a bit. Eat the ice cream (or in my case chips). Binge the Gilmore Girls. Scroll social media uselessly. Couch parent the children (if you don't know what that is - girl, we need to chat).

You can't live there but you most certainly are worthy of allowing yourself to process grief.

And then - and only then- put your party supplies away and take a deep breath.

You can walk your new normal. He equips those He called - if He called you to this, you've got this.