A servant heart.

The other day Lucas jokingly said, "Do I get a gold medal for doing the garbage?" And I replied, "If awards were given out for every chore around here, I'd be drowning in them." Yes, I've been known to grumble about my tasks. See, being a mom involves many, many duties that are mundane, never-ending, and virtually thankless. Sometimes I literally feel like crying when I lean down to pick up the same strewn toys for the umpteenth time in one day. Children are nothing if not invasive in my orderly world. But I don't want to get too off track here...

...My point of this post was to talk about some verses I read today, which seemed hand-picked by the Lord to tell me where I'm going wrong... 

“Will any one of you who has a servant plowing or keeping sheep say to him when he has come in from the field, ‘Come at once and recline at table’? Will he not rather say to him, ‘Prepare supper for me, and dress properly, and serve me while I eat and drink, and afterward you will eat and drink’? Does he thank the servant because he did what was commanded? So you also, when you have done all that you were commanded, say, ‘We are unworthy servants; we have only done what was our duty.’” Luke 17:7-10

Sometimes I think about the Lord and what He endured down here. Not His death, but His life. If ever there was someone who would have been entitled to grumble, it was Him. He was the King of Kings, and yet He was tirelessly serving a bunch of ingrates. Sometimes people were mean to Him. Hardly anyone listened to Him, unless they were going to get something from Him. He spoke and it bounced right off their denseness. And they most certainly did not bother to thank Him. One leper did, and correct me if I'm wrong, but I think that was the only instance. (Dad?) No accolades. No awards. No appreciation. And yet He loved them. Out of this immense love sprang service. Tireless, seemingly pointless service. He knew His duty and did it, without complaining or whining. No prayers of disbelief tossed up to His Father. "Really? These people?"


When I think of where He came from and what He did, I can see clearly that I have no right to complain. Yes, I've been given a very large task - raising three little people into semi-normal human beings. But because I know (or strive to know) what He went through down here, I know that His heart is filled with empathy for me. He isn't just idly up in heaven expecting me to do what He hasn't already done. I believe with my whole heart that He is here right beside me, encouraging me in His gentle voice through verses like the ones above. This morning I prayed that there would be a verse in my Bible-reading that would remind me that what I'm doing is not in vain. He heard me.


The servant does what's expected of him because that is what he is: a servant. There is a job to do and he gets it done. So no, there are no rewards or accolades. Not now anyway. Maybe someday in heaven there will be. But that is not why I'm doing it. I'm doing it because it's what's required of me. One day, sometimes one moment, at a time.

I never knew.

No one ever tells you what motherhood is really like. I think the closest I came to an honest description of it before I had kids was from my sisters-in-law, when they described the completely overwhelmed feeling of new-motherhood, the everlasting tears (both yours and the baby's), the extreme exhaustion. But that really only covered the first six weeks for me. Nicholas was a normal newborn and I spent many sleepless nights trying to comfort his wee self, but I was somehow always buoyed up knowing that my capable sisters-in-law had also felt entirely lost in this weird new life. After six weeks, we finally discovered that Nicholas' real problem was that he simply needed to sleep on his belly. Once we found that out, he's been our best sleeper ever since.

I then entered what I call a honeymoon phase in which my baby was sleeping through the night, we'd finally gotten the nursing down to a science, and I felt the vague stirrings of my old self starting to return. I can do this, I thought. I will be me again and I have the most content baby ever so I couldn't really ask for more. This phase lasted until my darling baby learned to crawl at around five-six months. Even then, it was still somewhat manageable, although I tired pretty quickly of hopping up and down every five seconds to pull him out of some forbidden place.

But then, something happened. Suddenly, he could walk. And not only that, but there was another baby on the way. When Jacob arrived, I was dealing with the sleepless nights and was pulling an extremely active toddler out of the cupboards all day long. No one told me how hard it was going to be. I remember having to close myself in a child-proofed bedroom, with both boys and a few little toys so I could nurse Jacob without having to worry about what Nicholas was getting into. I was changing two sets of diapers and literally felt like a diaper machine. It was all I did. Changed bums and kept babies out of harm's way. I thought children were supposed to be a blessing...

As they grew older, it only seemed to get worse. Tantrums, food battles, bickering. Dealing with all of this and being pregnant yet again with my third. I felt utterly, completely out of my element. Sometimes I just felt so confused and panicky. Who am I and how did I get here? What's my name again?  I'm still not completely sure how I survived those days.

Don't get me wrong, though. Through all of the angst (or whatever you want to call it) that I was feeling, there were moments of joy. Little arms giving big hugs. Sweet voices saying, "I love you." Bits of maturity cropping up here and there in their personalities, giving me a glimpse of what they might be like as adults.


As my kids have gotten older, it has gotten much easier. They're becoming more independent and now that I'm able to have actual conversations with them, I see light at the end of the tunnel. With time and experience, I have gained more wisdom and confidence on this ever-changing journey.


I never knew motherhood could be so completely overwhelming. Or how ill worry could make a person. Or that it would sometimes feel like they are holding your heart in their grubby little hands and every once in a while, they crush it. Sometimes it even feels like they are your heart, pulsing on the outside of you. My kids are the very air I breathe, and I would be lost without them.

I wasn't prepared for the mess of motherhood, but neither was I prepared for feeling the fierce love I have for my kids. No one ever told me that either.

Changing perspective.

A joyful heart is good medicine, 

but a (negative) spirit dries up the bones.

Proverbs 17:22

Anyone who knows me, knows that I am so not a cup-half-full kind of girl. Which would then make me a cup-half-empty kind of girl, but really it's more like cup-dry-as-a-bone kind of girl. Have I lost you yet? 

Anyway, to get to my point, I've always struggled with extreme negativity in thought and attitude. I read a few blogs whose writers are so the opposite of me that I come away feeling like I've taken a peek into the workings of another world. I read them solely to remind myself that life is meant to be enjoyed. 

I somehow can't seem to pull myself out of the gritty minutiae of my every day life to kind of rise above and find the sweet smelling roses like other people do. I have never, ever, ever been one of those moms who runs to get the camera when her child spills something. This is something I will want to remember when I'm eighty so let's document the cuteness of that milk splatter! Me? I am probably bringing the cliche to life, crying (or screaming) while wiping it up with a soggy, stinky towel, praying for the day to be over already.

While I completely admire mothers who are generally positive about kids and home and life in general, I don't know how to get myself there. It is really hard, when you've lived your whole life thus far, looking through the lens of negativity, to then turn a switch and become a positive thinker. It really is not possible. The effort it takes for me to rethink what I'm thinking is just not on my radar in the day-to-day of life. 

I can literally spend a day thinking of all the bad things that could happen, all the bad things that have happened, and all the things that will most definitely happen and do. I told you so. 

In case you didn't know, negative people are exhausting. Just ask my husband. 

I know, though, that this is not how I am to be. Maybe I have a lot more work cut out for me than my positive thinking friends, since I have to redirect my whole personality and thought process, but I must try. For the sake of my family, I need to try and start thinking more positively about life. 

It is weighing me down and I have got to let go of it. I really hope none of you suffers with negativity. It is a really disheartening way to live. But if you are, here are a few things that I have found to be really helpful on my road to being positive:

1. Pray.

2. Read my Bible regularly.

3. Pray.

4. Only read books/watch movies with positive messages.

5. Pray.

6. Cutting out a lot of what I read in the news. I'm actually thinking of stopping reading the news altogether. The world is so depressing.

7. Pray some more. 

The following verses have helped too, in my ongoing quest:

"...let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us..." Hebrews 12:1

"...whatever is lovely, think about these things." Philippians 4:8

"For nothing will be impossible with God.” Luke 1:37

Changes.

In the next little while, I'm going to be making some changes to my blog. I have a new name planned for it, I'm going to be getting rid of some useless "filler" blog posts, and just changing the general direction of where I want to go with it. My purpose with it is going to be more along the lines of being content with motherhood, and my journey as a mom. It's not totally different from what I've been doing already, I would just like it to have more purpose and meaning. When discussing it with my sister, she mentioned writing things that my kids would someday like to read, and I completely agree. This is what I want: For my kids to look back and see that I never was, and never claimed to be, a perfect mother, but that I learned and grew from the things God teaches me through them. God has changed me so much through motherhood in the last seven years and I want this blog to be a testament to that fact. I'm really looking forward to making a fresh start with this blog and I can't wait to share it with you!

Nicholas is seven!

Dear Nicholas,

I can't believe you are seven! Where have the years gone? I still remember the first moment I saw you and the love that filled my soul. Although I love Jacob and Amelia just as much as I love you, you will always be the boy who made me a mother. You are the one who has taught me the most about being a mom. I learned on you and the others get to benefit from what I've learned.

You stretch me in ways that no one else in my life has ever stretched me. You force me to scrutinize and confirm my opinions and beliefs because you never let your "whys" rest until you find answers. Your determination, your fiery spirit, your strength and your confidence are an inspiration to me. I pray that you will let God use all these wonderful qualities you have for His glory.

I love you so much and I'm so glad you're you! The very happiest of birthdays to my big boy!

Love, Mommy

Me as a mom.

I've always struggled with feeling like a complete failure as a mother. I will never be that mom who always knows what to say, when and how to say it. I will never be that mom who decorates beautiful cakes for her kids and plans elaborate, fun parties for them. I will never be that mom who knows how to dress them well for mere pennies, who consistently teaches them to be who they need to be, who knows how to gently yet firmly impart life-long truths to them through spilled milk and broken dishes. Honestly, I'm more the mom who screams and pulls her hair out at the slightest mishap. Impatient? Yep, got that one down. Selfish? Uh-huh, got that one too. In short? I will never be Michelle Duggar. You see, I made the mistake of reading her book. While she does claim to have short patience and that she needs to work on her anger and temper too, she somehow manages to have obedient, quiet, gentle, completely in-control children. People, she's got nineteen of them. She's doing something right.

So this morning, feeling gloomy and wondering why I allowed myself to read this book in the first place, I gave myself a little pep talk. No, I am not Michelle Duggar and even though I wish I could be (not really though) I know without a doubt that God doesn't expect me to be. Actually, He doesn't even want me to be. He made me, ME. With all my faults, foibles (that's for you, Anna!) and selfishness, I am me. He made me the way I am and He gave me these children specifically because He knew that they needed me and more importantly, I needed them. So no, I will never be Michelle Duggar.

Then I started thinking, well yes, there is a lot I can't do as a mother and never will be able to do (Superstore does a better job icing cakes than I do!) but there are things I can do as a mom.

1. I can learn to control my temper and therefore learn to speak more gently and calmly.
2. I can teach my kids by pointing them to the truth each time they do something wrong.
3. I can try to be more consistent in my discipline.
4. I can read them stories, especially Bible stories.
5. I can talk to them. Even if I don't find a lesson in spilled milk, I can pray for teachable moments anyway.

And most importantly, I can PRAY. Ultimately, that is the one and only thing I really can do. All the things I listed before can only be done through prayer anyway. I can pray for patience, wisdom, strength. I can pray for their salvation, their futures, their character. I can "insulate them in prayer" as I heard one seasoned father say before.

And really? That is all they need anyway. All the other stuff is just a bonus. I love my kids and I pray for them. That is not the definition of failure in my dictionary.

Okay, pep talk over. :)

Here is poem which I (ironically) found in the book by Michelle Duggar:

CONTINUE ON 

a poem by Roy Lessin

A woman once fretted over the usefulness of her life.
She feared she was wasting her potential being a devoted wife and mother.
She wondered if the time and energy she invested in her husband and children would make a difference. At times she got discouraged because so much of what whe did seemed to go unnoticed and unappreciated. "Is it worth it?" she often wondered.
"Is there something better that I could be doing with my time?"
It was during one of these moments of questioning that she heard the still small voice of her heavenly Father speak to her heart.
"You are a wife and mother because that is what I have called you to be.
Much of what you do is hidden from the public eye, but I notice.
Most of what you give is done without remuneration, but I am your reward.
Your husband cannot be the man I have called him to be without your support. Your influence upon him is greater than you think and more powerful than you will ever know. I bless him through your service and honor him through your love.
Your children are precious to Me, even more precious than they are to you. I have entrusted them to your care to raise for Me. What you invest in them is an offering to Me. You may never be in the public spotlight, but your obedience shines as a bright light before Me. Continue on. Remember you are MY Servant. Do all to please Me."

(I italicized the part that spoke to me the most when I read it yesterday!)

The eyes of a boy.

The first time I saw his picture, he was leaning his head against a court room wall, weeping. The other day I saw him again, from the pages of a newspaper, and this time I saw his eyes. How they haunt me. I can't stop thinking about them, about him. He is eighteen-years-old. He should be planning his future, enrolling into university, getting a part-time job, deciding whether to study business or science. Instead, he is in court, being tried for second-degree murder. His eyes. I cannot describe to you what I see there. Confusion. Fear. Unfathomable pain. Prison is only going to make him worse, ruin him forever.

I can't stand it sometimes. The older I get, the more I see how wretched our world really is. I feel like I could buckle under the weight of all the hurting people, the hurting kids. Who is going to tell them about the hope they can find in Jesus? How will this boy ever know that there is Someone who loves him?

I don't know why I felt compelled to write about this. It just got me thinking about so many things. About him. About pain and hope. About life and what it all means. Mostly I started thinking about my own kids, in this case my boys, especially. What can I do as a mom to ensure this never happens to them? I don't think, honestly, that there is anything I could ever do to stop my boys from rebelling. They are going to make their own choices and make their own mistakes and learn from them, hopefully.

I feel like a broken record saying this, but all I can do is teach them, point them to the Lord and pray for them. There are no guarantees in this life. The only thing that I can do as a mom is my very best, and then trust the Lord for their futures. They are in His hands and that is the very best place for them to be!