I Get It Now

  I'm reading a book. It's a wonderfully fun cross between memoir and cookbook called "Too Many Cooks", by Emily Franklin.  The subtitle reads, "Kitchen Adventures with 1 Mom, 4 Kids, and 102 Recipes".   I love her style of writing, I "get" her.  As I'm reading, the thought crosses my mind, "Someday I'd like to write a book like this," and then I laugh, because I realize I actually could write a book very similar to this one.  A book full of  funny stories of the unexpected that inevitably happens when you mix young children and food, especially new food they haven't tried before, the reality that hits you between the eyes when you realize that parenting isn't anything like you once thought. 
   You see, I used to have great expectations of what life would be like "when I'm a mother".  I can't tell you how many times I have been guilty of looking at a mother, new or otherwise, and thinking, "I would never...", and "If that were my child..."  And if you, dear reader, happen to be one of those mothers, please accept my humblest, most sincere apology!   You see, I had no idea. Not a clue.
   Now, I know someone out there is going to be thinking, "You still have no idea!  Just wait until you really have your own kids!"  And they are right, I'm still vastly clueless, but I'm getting the idea.    I understand now the mother in the checkout line who bought her preschooler a candy bar to silence his shrieks.  (He's probably been at it for an hour and by now her ear drums are desperate for silence.)  I totally get the mom who handed her child a box of as yet unpaid for crackers saying, "Here, eat these!"  (Trust me, when a kid is hungry, feed it, some of them, at any cost!)  And the mom at the park who, instead of playing with her three young children, sat on a bench with her smart phone in her hand? Yeah, I get that too.  (It's probably the first chance she's had all day to check email, listen to ten different voice mails, answer that desperate message from her far away friend who's going through a rough day.)  I know now the desperation behind these previously despised parenting moves.   
   While the vast majority of the world would say I am not a mother, my heart, and a certain little girl, tell me otherwise.  She is the daughter of my heart.  She tells me I am her heart mommy.  I may not have given birth to her, but she is mine.  I have rocked her to sleep, bandaged skinned knees, sat up at night worried that her fever would get worse instead of better. I've cried tears of amazement and joy over this precious girl.  I've cried tears of exhausted frustration when, at quarter till midnight, she's still awake, still refusing to sleep, determined to outlast and win the battle of bedtime, and tears of relief when she finally lost the fight and drifted reluctantly off to sleep.  I know the pain of being helpless to take away the hurt in her heart.  
    I may not be a mother in the usual sense, but after nearly two years of caring for her more days than not, and three weeks of 24/7, I've pretty much seen anything and everything a 4-6 year old can dish out, from the wonderful to "the horror", as Ary would say. (This is her latest favorite phrase, and any number of unpleasant occurrences, from being told she cannot go to the park in the pouring rain, to stepping on an ant will be accented by, "Oh, the horror!")
   So, you see, as  I sat reading a moment ago, I had to laugh.   I had to laugh at the naivety of the me of yesteryear. I had to laugh at the realization that I understood. I had to laugh, because, sometimes, when there is someone who calls you Mommy,  if you didn't laugh you'd cry.   Sometimes laughing like a lunatic is the only way to keep your sanity. 

Let Me Be the Daddy

  I was reading a blog post the other day called, "Let Me Be the Mommy" (sorry, i cant remember the blog, it's one that one of my friends had shared on Facebook the other day).  In her post, the author was telling how she dealt with her young children's  squabbles and worries, telling them, "Let me be the mommy," to remind them that she is in charge and to let her handle the problem for them.   As I was reading, I thought of it from the perspective of a mommy/nanny to a six year old. Could I use this with Ary?   
  Today, however,  as I'm feeling very much overwhelmed, tired, and just plain worn out by all that I'm facing in my life right now, I was thinking about that blog post again.  Only this time God changed my perspective with a whisper to my heart, "Who's in charge here? Won't you stop fighting and worrying and let Me handle your problems and troubles? Won't you let Me be the Daddy?"  
I stopped in my tracks ( literally, I'm out walking).  I find myself completely overwhelmed by this "new" thought.   I don't have to handle anything.  I don't have to cope, I don't have to worry, I don't have to fix anything. I have a Father who is bigger, stronger, much more capable than I to take care of everything for me.  I just have to let go, step back, and let Him handle it.  He won't force me to let Him, He waits patiently for me to come to my senses and give it all to Him. But He is there, right there in the middle of it all, wanting to take all my troubles and worries, to fight all my battles, if only I will give them to Him and let Him be the Daddy. 

Twists and Turns

   Sometimes, in this journey we call life, God takes us places we never expected to go, places we didn't think we wanted to go.  Until we get there.   I find myself in just such a place in my life right now.   If you had asked me twenty years ago where my life was headed, what my dreams and goals were for my life, where I saw myself in twenty years, I would have given you a picture of marriage and children and a home of my own.  I would have told you dreams of spending my mornings teaching little minds, children all neatly sitting at their desks, eager expressions on their freshly washed faces, and afternoons spent baking in the kitchen, or working in the garden, or teaching little fingers to sew a strait seam. I would have told you of my plans to have everyone clean, fresh and smiling, a perfectly prepared, healthy dinner waiting on the table for when my knight in shining armor returned home from work. That is the picture I would have given you of the future of my dreams.
  That is a very different picture than what you would actually see looking at my life today.   In fact, you will find very little of my dreams in my reality.  And yet, I am not left feeling cheated, or as though I've somehow missed out on life.   I have almost nothing I always thought I wanted, and yet I have everything and more.  Don't get me wrong.  I wouldn't want you to think I never have days when I wish things could be different, when I wish I had all the things I dream of.  I do.  A lot of them.  If I let myself, I can through a pitty party with the best of them, and in my heart I can act every bit like a toddler who's just been told no.  But the truth is, I am happy.  Right here.  Right now.  Today.  With what I have.  It's an odd feeling really, having nothing I always thought I needed to be happy, nothing I always thought I wanted, nothing of my dreams, and yet feeling perfectly content, feeling as though I am living my dreams.
    I don't have what I always dreamed.  I have more, so much more!   I don't have a house of my own, but I have a place to call home and a family who loves me.   I don't have children of my own, but I have a precious little girl I am entrusted with every day who tells me I am the best Marmee ever and has completely stolen my heart.   I don't spend my mornings teaching my own children, but I am privileged to teach two preschool/kindergarten classes at my church.
   I spent so much of the last twenty years feeling sorry for myself because I didn't have what I thought I needed to be happy, instead of trusting my loving all knowing Heavenly Father to give me His best.   It is a growing process and I am still learning, but resting in His plan and His timing has brought a joy and a peace like none I have ever known.  I am finding that He knows me better than I know myself, and in knowing me, He knows my needs.   In knowing me, He knows what will truly bring me joy and contentment.  It is only in trusting Him to bring about His plan for my life that the heart of my dreams can become my reality.  It is only in resting in His plan that it no longer matters that my plans have not become reality.  It is only in resting in Him and trusting Him to bring about His best for my life that I find the joy and contentment I thought my dreams would bring.
 

Beautiful Brokenness

For it is God, who commanded light to shine out of darkness, who has shone in our hearts to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ. But we have this treasure in earthen vessels,  that the excellence of the power may be of God and not of us. You are the light of the world. A city that is set on a hill cannot be hidden. Nor do they light a lamp and put it under a basket, but on a lampstand, and it gives light to all who are in the house. Let your light so shine before men, that they may see your good works and glorify your Father in heaven. But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, His own special people,  that you may proclaim the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His marvelous light; who once were not a people but are now the people of God,  who had not obtained mercy but now have obtained mercy.  For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the world. Walk as children of light.  
2 Corinthians 4:6-7; Matthew 5:14-16; 1 Peter 2:9-10; Ephesians 5:8

Wow!  The Lord is taking me on an incredible journey right now.  Many places in this journey have brought deep pain and darkness.  They have also driven me to the Savior, the source of all comfort and light.  
I have been thinking a lot about His light, praying that He will use my brokenness to shine His light on those around me.
  I pray that He will allow His light to shine out of my broken places,  but all the while I hide my brokenness.    Over the last few days, He has been gently showing me that His light can only shine through the breaks and cracks in my heart if I let the broken places show.   
It all clicked and made sense this morning during my quiet time with Him.  As He lead me from one passage of Scripture to another, it hit me.  He has given us His light,  and given its treasure abundantly, in earthen vessels.  Clay pots.  Clay pots are not strong.  They crack, they chip, they break.  We are like clay pots. We are not strong.   We break.   But, when we break, when our hearts crack and pieces fall out and sometimes get lost,  it is then that His light can shine through.   But only if we let it!   If we, in fear and insecurity,  hide those broken places,  hide our own weakness, we are like one who would light a lamp and then hide it under a basket or under the bed. 
It is hard to let the brokenness show. It's scary, terrifying really.  Human nature, instinct, tell us it is bad to be weak.  We fear what others will think.  I have a tendency to feel as though others see me as the strong one, the one who has it all together, and I'm hard wired to please.  I fear that,  if I let my weakness and my broken and cracked and shattered heart show, I will disapoint, I will let someone down.  I will appear less than I am thought and expected to be.   But hiding my weakness, my broken places, hinders God's light and power from shining through!  It is in my weakness that He is shown to be strong.  It is when I allow my brokenness to be seen that His healing power is also seen.  When those around me are allowed to see that I am not strong they will be able to see His strength, His sustaining grace, His peace that passes all understanding.   It is then that they will see His power and glorify Him.  And that is what this life with Jesus is all about, bringing Him glory and allowing His light to shine through us into a dark and dying world.