BirthDay Month

I just finished celebrating my birthday which was towards the beginning of the month.  I've had friends shower me with flowers and cards and posts and texts and messages for nearly 3 weeks.  The group of friends (I include my sisters and mom in this group) that are in my life are not only wide, but they are deep and kind and relentless in their celebratory demonstrations.  Every time someone would bring flowers by my house, or send a note, or give me a birthday hug I was overwhelmed once again by the knowledge that my people "have me".  These are friends who are so strong and so wise.  They have suffered and endured, coming through their fires more beautiful and capable than when they first smelled the smoke.

One of my friends wrote me a blessing - words that are so meaningful that the card will go in a very special place where I can be reminded often of her heart towards me.  Another friend both honored and humored me with a tribute related to a favorite TV of mine that I encouraged her to watch.  The creativity and true wishes that she conveyed in her writing touched me so deeply. My little sister, skilled in embroidery, made me a picture of a house in a garden.  It now hangs on the wall of my office as a reminder of a few of my favorite things - my sister, my home, my garden.  My older sister gave me the most beautiful set of bracelets and a tank top with my favorite verse on it, acknowledging a new faith step I'm taking in my yoga practice.  My mom blessed me with the gift of a massage  - as I lay there relaxing I was struck with the absolute perfection of her gift to me.  This year has been one of the most stress-filled 365 days, and my sweet mom understood exactly what I needed.

Two girlfriends blessed me with gifts that fit my love for vintage/retro treasures.  Friends took me out for drinks, pizza, mexican food and other deliciousness.  I had a group of friends over to celebrate in my garden enjoying both God's gift of friendship and a beautiful summer night.  Patrick and I attended a concert with some friends.  That night will be a forever memory of us enjoying one of our favorite singers under a perfect, starlit June sky. 

 I've heard friendship described in many different ways, but the concept that makes the most sense to me is that of friendship as a net.  It is widespread and taut, ready to catch me at any moment.  This net is ever present, moving beneath me.  The women who make up this net are faithful, available, and they know me.  I can text or call them and they will answer, they will pray, they will advise, they will cry, they will catch.  They are friends who aren't just in proximity, but they are very present.  And I need them desperately.  I need their hugs and their prayers and their advice and their wisdom.  I love their creativity and watching them grow.  The truth is we need each other!

As I have been celebrated for nearly a month now, I have had the chance to take a look at the ways that I am a friend.  I have great examples of how to show up for people, and I have been  inspired to be a better friend, to love more deeply and sincerely.  I am most grateful to God that He chose me to sit in the middle of this chosen net of friends.  He has shown me over and over that He wants me right there, so that I can be blessed by the people He has given to me. 

Remembering

By definition, Memorial Day is a day set aside to express thanks to those who have served and to offer condolences for those who have been lost or have died.  It is a day for remembering, celebrating, and commemorating.   Celebrating freedoms that have been won, remembering times of trouble where freedom was lost, and commemorating the people who have sacrificed so that we can have those freedoms.  As Americans, we have so many privileges and rights and pleasures that have resulted from those who have gone before us, paving the road to those very ends.  I confess that I often take for granted the comfortable American life that I live, not paying enough attention or giving enough credit to the people who have made this comfort a possibility.

 Hanging in my dining room there are 2 pictures; one is a picture of my grandpa in his army uniform, the other is  a picture of my grandpa in the same uniform accompanied by my grandma in a stylishly matching hat and jacket.  My grandpa handed down values of working hard, family loyalty, saving for the future, telling stories so the past was not forgotten.  What strikes me about the picture of my grandparents together is that my grandmother was not as praised for her contribution to "war time" because she wasn't directly signed up.  But I bet you she worked just as hard and long and well as my grandpa.  I remember her being so sweet and kind; always offering a hug and cooking something yummy to eat.  She loved to read, garden, and set up knick-knacks around her house... Wait... that sounds like me!  I love to read, I love to garden... and well... knick-knacks moset certainly do line the shelves around my house.  While my Grandpa influenced the broader scope of freedom that is in my life because of his military service, I feel like I have my Grandmother to thank for the individual influence that was handed down.  She was always one to have beauty around her.  She decorated her home with pillows on the couch and pretty dishes in the cupboard.  My grandma loved to write letters and always had a steno-pad on her desk with a letter that she was just about to start or an envelope  just sealed with a flag stamp in the right hand corner, ready to be mailed off to whomever she was corresponding with.  Grandma was soft spoken until her favorite football team was on the tv, or if you made the grave mistake of touching her propped up feet while she watched Wheel of Fortune.  I also remember how Grandma paid attention to the people that were in her house.  She would look you in the eye and just sit on the couch and enjoy sitting with you.  I never knew if my grandma had money but I remember that she made others feel rich just from being with her.  She always had perfectly folded sheets that she would get out to put on the sofa-beds when we got there; the pretty pile of linens always made me feel so at home.  Two of my favorite memories are sitting on the porch with my grandparents on a hot summer night, enjoying silly stories told by my grandpa and wanting to stay and feel the loving presence of my grandma for just 5 more minutes.   My love of an outdoor space to put up my feet  and spend time with those I love was most assuredly been handed down from my grandma.  Cute vintage outdoor chairs, Creamy Italian salad dressing, peonies, the smell of a delicious roast, and mismatched floral plates are all parts of my memory that connect me to my grandma.
 
Being like my grandma is a life-long pursuit of mine.  Her gentle nature while at home, her hospitable ways, and her peaceful presence will be what I choose to remember, celebrate and commemorate today.  While the holiday Memorial Day typically focuses on heroes of war, I will be in touch with my memorial to my grandma, one of my personal heroes,  today.   She raised a family of 4 kids plus my grandpa, she kept a tidy and beautiful home, she went to church, she made people feel loved, she took personal pride in things around her that she loved... such a beautiful life! Thank you, Grandma.  I honor and remember the life that you lived, and desire to continue your legacy as the years continue to pass.  My grandparents were my absolute favorite people on earth while they were here ( and I like to think that I was one of theirs as well!!) I miss them all the time, and if  I could have an evening sitting on the porch with them, in their gliding chairs,  it would be the most delightful thing.  Because they have passed on, I will just remember, and be thankful for all that is in me that was handed down by them.

quiet

When a writer doesn't post a blog post for 9 months, you might suspect that they have quit writing altogether. In my case, that is partially true.  I quit publishing any written material but I haven't stopped writing.  The first few months of no blog activity was purely from being too busy.  However,   about 4 months ago, a quiet covering came over me;  A stillness and a message from the Lord - "Be quiet".  I  put words back into the Lord's mouth and thought... "oh yeah... Be still and know.. yada yada yada... And then I heard Him more clearly... "Nope that's not what I meant.  I meant BE QUIET".

This is not in my nature.  I'm a talker, I'm a verbal processor.  Being quiet, keeping quiet , STAYING QUIET is not what I'm good at.  But, I really felt like for the time it was what I was supposed to do.  Thus,  I have been practicing quiet.  The truth is, as hard as it was for me, there have been times when it has been a relief not to feel like I had to offer my opinion or my judgement or my thoughts.  I've still had them and I've written them down in my journal for my own personal processing, but its been for the Lord's and my eyes only.  It's been good for me, and now I sense I'm being released to write publicly again. 

When I named my blog "The Mama's Thoughts", my plan was to pour out my thoughts about every activity and exciting thing that was going on in our home and with the kids.  Looking back, I realize that this plan was naive and slightly silly.  It was the plan of someone who's rose colored glasses hadn't been fogged up by her own tears or cracked and smudged by blows to the face.  Who cares about a fun activity when your Mama heart is breaking?  Who even wants to read or write about the trivial events, when you can't sleep, can't hope, can't breathe?

What I do know for sure about the blog is this... I want to write.  I love to write.  I need a space to jot down my thoughts about the trivial events as well as the heartbreaks.  While honoring the privacy of my kids and family, I still want to express my thoughts through words.  It is where I find clarity.  It is where I find focus.

 "The Mama's Thoughts" might change every so slightly.  Maybe it won't even be noticeable?  But hopefully my writing will reflect more of what the Lord is teaching me through both the challenging  times and the fun times. 

Thanks for reading.

And

"I have a lot of faith and a lot of fear a lot of the time"

 - Anne Lamott

School has started back up,  and the kids' schedule is cresting the peak of the semester roller coaster.  Soon we will be careening fast and furious,  around and around, in and out, upside down and right side up.  Fortunately, what looks like mayhem is actually quite organized!  I am spoiled by carpool and bikes and little legs that carry my kids to and from school, practice, lessons.  On normal days, everyone leaves the house by 8 am freeing my own schedule up to start whatever tasks present themselves to me.  This is most often work, with a load or 2 of laundry, plus a dishwasher full of dishes.  The days come and go, hours ticking by to the metronome of the second hand. 

The summer brought activity as well, and we were thrilled to get to go camping, backpacking, fishing, and driving to some beautiful places.  The Grand Canyon greeted us with scenery so beautiful it shocked me.  The lakes that I paddle boarded on provided contentment and peace as I explored this new hobby.  From walks in our own neighborhood, to hikes up mountains far away, our family experienced a great summer of togetherness. It was a final summer having all 6 of us live at home as our oldest has now moved into the dorms at her college.  As we checked off the days of summer, we moved closer to the new changes and experiences that were ahead.   

Whenever there is "new" in the family, it seems like it brings significant change to my mama heart. It has to learn to beat a new rhythm,  feel new feelings, dance a new dance.   I'm not a super big fan of Change, yet I know that it is a part of our family,  acting as another member demanding time and attention just like everyone else.  Now I don't have a Christmas stocking for "change" or have a place at the table for "change"  - I don't even know how old he/she is... but I know that Change lives here with us.   Change affects us, and challenges us, and requires that we listen and pay attention to it.  

One morning, I sat in my favorite chair on the front porch praying. One of the kids had made some choices earlier in the summer that had me all tied up in knots.  Through tears, I told the Lord... "I cannot breathe over this." My admission came from a place of desperation because when you aren't breathing, you aren't living. And I felt dead.  Even though we were having a summer full of outdoor activities and fun family outings, I was basically walking dead all the way through them; pasting on a smile and doing my "job" as the mom, all the while holding my breath, drowning because of how my world had changed.  As I sat there crying out to Jesus, I felt Him say to my spirit "Let's start with the basics.  Inhale. Exhale".  Ironically,  I will tell the kids when they are hurt or crying that we are going to do yoga breathing... "Inhale. Exhale".  Just the basics.  I felt like God was tapping into something I already knew... that the basics was what I was being instructed to do.  Nothing fancy, just in and out.

That very day, I decided to move with the changes rather than against them, and slowly work on breathing again.  Inhale - Receive God's help.  Exhale - Believe He is with me.  Inhale trust - Nothing is too hard for my Sovereign Lord.  Exhale Fear - My God is holding my hand telling me He will help me.  Day after day, this practice became my very way to live.  I had to speak God's word over these changes that had been threaded through our summer months or else I was going to die inside. When I was speaking, I was breathing.  When I was breathing the trauma felt manageable, the fear less monstrous.  

Now, I spend moments every day with a set of note cards that have written reminders of God's love, His faithfulness and my dependence on Him.  The oxygen of my soul is the scriptures I have copied from my Bible onto the cards.  I am fearful, AND I am faithful.  I am terrified AND I am trusting.  What I have learned this summer is that the expectation isn't that I must be one or the other.  Some days, most days,  I am both.  There are minutes I feel stronger and some weaker.  But just because I have fear, doesn't mean I don't have faith.  And just because I trust in my Heavenly Father, doesn't mean that there aren't  moments where I'm terrified.  My therapist said that when a body/mind/spirit/heart/soul goes through a trauma (the changes that I went through), it's a little bit like being struck by lightning.  All circuits are shorted out, all connections need reattached, portions of whatever has been struck are broken or paralyzed. Her words identified exactly where I was at.  Paralyzed, broken, unattached.   As Catherine Wolf so eloquently taught me this year through her book "Hope Heals", there is a phenomenon called Post Traumatic Growth Syndrome.  The thought that even when you encounter suffering, or hardship in traumatic ways, there is the possibility of growing through it, rather than just stressing through it.  But growth requires breath.  Without oxygen, there is no life.   So I must continue to breathe, and choose to move with the changes that come, and relax in the rhythm  of "Inhale. Exhale" to the praise and Glory of my Emmanuel.

Quote by Ann Voskamp

June

This morning, Facebook re-told me the story of  June.  It showed pictures and words that highlighted the events that I had decided were worth mentioning.  A slideshow of happy faces and pretty places was on display, reminding me of how much fun the month was.  And the truth is that the month WAS great.  and yet... I also knew that it wasn't ALL great.  I knew the truth that we had endured some moments in June that didn't get posted; hours spent in places that I wanted to hide from the world. I had cried countless tears,  and prayed innumerable un-posted prayers.

 Social media is an interesting thing.  On the one hand, it keeps a record of the wonderful moment we have.  It holds the memories of what we felt worthy of sharing.  What isn't posted, doesn't get shared; in fact it's as if it never happened.    But that doesn't mean it didn't, doesn't mean we don't remember.  We just bear it without audience.  Many times, I will be with a girlfriend and she will mention something I posted and ask a question or make a comment.  But where is the platform to share the un-postable stuff?  The things that nobody would want to press "like" on.  I find myself staying silent more than I want to.  Keeping the hard things close to my chest.  It isn't that I want people to only think that my life is grand, or delude folks into thinking that my days go by trouble-free.  Surely, we are all better in touch with reality than that.  But I think that I imagine sharing my sad heart and then I entertain the thought that in sharing my burden I will experience rejection.  Sadly, this has happened before, and in the back of my self-protective mind I hear "You're too much... You're too sad... You're too... TOO."  So I stay quiet with only my thoughts to accompany the moments that don't deserve a "like", wishing that I didn't feel TOO much; hoping that I'm wrong when I do actually send the text that says... " Please pray - I'm hurting".

Don't get me wrong... in the last month I HAVE sent the SOS text, I HAVE made the phone call hollering "HELP"!!  I have first-responder -folks, and I am eternally grateful.  But as I walk out my front door into the real world, I feel like I need protected.  Protection from what people THINK life is like, unless they know.  Protection from the assumptions and the ideals. Protection from my own disappointment from the truth that life isn't what I thought it would be.  As I read one of my favorite passages, Psalm 121, I find that the Lord Himself is that protection.  It says

"The Lord watches over you - the Lord is your shade at your right hand; the sun will not harm you by day, nor the moon by night.  The Lord will keep you from all harm - He will watch over your life; the Lord will watch over your coming and going both now and forevermore.

I read a post on Instagram that challenged me.  It was a picture of medical supplies that live in this dad's house, supplies that help his sick son to take breaths.  In this post, highlighting the medical supplies sitting in his kitchen, the writer said...

 "These are not the scenes in life you plan for, but if you stop trying to control them, they'll tell you how they are beautiful."

While I am not yet as progressed as this dad, I am daily trying to be thankful for the unplanned scenes in my life. Interrupted sleeps, trips to the ER, heartaches and heart breaks.   I'm not great with the unplanned, with things that take me by surprise.  I prefer some prep-time for most of life.   I'm behind in my goal to be "ok" with things; chastising myself that I should feel better by now.  But if only you could see my efforts.  I am trying, hoping, asking for God's strength to carry me even in the things that are unplanned by me.  

Deuteronomy 31:8
The Lord Himself goes before you (PREPARATION!!)
and will be with you.
He will never leave you nor forsake you.
Do not be afraid;
Do not be discouraged."

It's five short weeks until school is officially out!!  The list of things to do is longer than the days we have to do them! Concerts and projects, meetings and deadlines.  We have a reading log that might NEVER be finished because it's for my youngest child, and well... I'm not going to lie - I am pretty tired of signing my name to a reading log.  Must press on... Must press on... 

Two major endings are upon us.  We have one mini who is graduating from elementary school, and one mini who is graduating from high school.  Both occasions call for great celebration and We. Are. On. It!!!!!  The years that the kids have spent at both schools have been been full of things that have educated their minds AND shaped their personalities.  

When Marky first stepped onto the high school campus, I wouldn't have ever imagined what blessings were coming.  Dance team, jazz choir, concerts, friends, opportunities for travel, games to attend.  It has been 4 years of constant go-go-go, and we have loved it.  Now, this child is ready.  Cooked.  SUPER ready for the next phase of life.  Adulting.  Just like high school, I'm guessing that she will find it mostly fun, sometimes challenging, and always full of growing opportunities.  She was born for greatness and this is such an exciting time for her.  

We've spent 13 consecutive years with 4 kids at our elementary school.  All of the kids walking the same halls, driving the same route to school, sharing many of the same teachers year after year.  We've had amazing years here and we have had some years that we just had to get through (4th grade girls - ICK!!!). There have been 4 different principlals, and so many teachers that we adored, (also too many substitute teachers that the kids did NOT adore!!) jump rope competitions and ECO week, talents shows, book bowl competitions and too many concerts to count.  Year after year, the kids have duplicated drawings and repeated school projects, each one designed to be the same yet finished with their own unique touch.  No two have looked alike, all four done completely different, yet all meeting the same criteria - DO YOUR BEST!  And this boy has!!  He has made some amazing friends and accomplished great things, and now he can't wait to join sister #3 at the middle school.  

We're leaving these schools better than when we started them.  This oldest child and this youngest child, saying farewell to  all of the good that they've done, and carrying with them all of the GREAT things that they have been entrusted with.  Strong character, great minds, and memories for a lot of tomorrows.

Motherhood

Tomorrow will mark my 18th Mother's Day.   My first thought after child number one was born was, “We're going to have so much fun!”.   Three more children and a bunch of fun later, I have arrived at a Mother's Day that looks differently than I had imagined it would some 18 years ago, yet I am grateful and humbled by the blessings that have been poured out on my life because I get to be a mom.    Being a mom doesn't make me a more superior creature than those who haven't chosen to be a mom.  It just so happens that motherhood is what God decided to use to continually sanctify and purify my heart, soul, and mind.  He has asked me to be more patient, through motherhood.  He has challenged me to die to myself, through motherhood.  He has encouraged me to surrender to His authority, through motherhood.  He has tethered my mother-fears to His sovereignty.  He has taught me to trust in His goodness, through motherhood.  He has taught me to love unconditionally, through motherhood.  He has carried me through seasons of grief and times of sadness, because of motherhood.  He has revealed my sin and selfishness, through motherhood.  He helps me with my control issues, through motherhood.  He has blessed me with joy beyond description, through motherhood.  He has taken me on adventures, through motherhood.  He has given me the opportunity to feel enormous pride in the successes of others, through motherhood.  He has allowed me to be overwhelmed with delight and overcome with frustration, through motherhood.  He has given me 4 disciples to raise to love Him with all that they are, because He chose ME to be their mom.  

Before I arrived at motherhood, I believed that hard things were bad things, so I steered clear of challenges, hugging the inside curve of the easy path.  However, once I heard the first cry of my oldest daughter, I knew that my heart was forever destined to love intensely, always thinking about someone else's needs before my own.  At that first-cry-moment, I took a sharp left turn onto a road unlike another I had ever been on:  a road that would curve sharply, detour often, and twist and turn like a winding river.  All of a sudden, I knew for sure that I would lay down my life for another person,  that I would give up sleep, sanity, and security in order to care for my kids.  What I didn't know is that  I would take on enemies and circumstances that were bigger than me in order to protect them.  I had no idea that I would enter courtrooms and classrooms, ready to fight for their well-being, or sit on a sideline or in an audience, fiercely believing that MY KID was the best player/dancer/singer in the bunch.  And through it all, God has been so good to care for this fearful, exhausted, imperfect, faith-filled, stubborn, head-over-heels-in-love with her children mom.  My mom-confidence does not come from anything that I can do on my own, it lies in the fact that God will never change; that He will be with me for the next decade, and the decade after that, and the one after that.  Because He gave me the privilege of motherhood,  I know that He will equip me and sustain me to be the mom that each one of my kids needs, whether the road is hard and difficult or easy and smooth. That's motherhood!  A journey of expected challenges  and unexpected joys.  One that has changed, grown and blessed me in countless ways.

Normal Day

“Normal day, let me be aware of the treasure you are. Let me learn from you, love you, bless you before you depart. Let me not pass you by in quest of some rare and perfect tomorrow. Let me hold you while I may, for it may not always be so. One day I shall dig my nails into the earth, or bury my face in the pillow, or stretch myself taut, or raise my hands to the sky and want, more than all the world, your return.” 
― Mary Jean Irion 


Nearly 3 months after my last post, I sit here in my comfy chair, warmed by the sun, thinking back on all that we've been through in this short period of time.

Grief has made it's way into my life and seeped into every crack of my heart.  Tears flow regularly,  lubricating the emotions that I feel.  I don't think that the grief I'm experiencing is a bad thing.  "There is a time for everything..."  It's just that I'm usually not someone who spends a lot of time feeling ONE THING, and lately, all I feel is this overwhelming sadness over this interruption into our lives; this diagnosis that changes how care-free my daughter can live.   Grief has watered seeds of fear that haven't sprouted in years, causing anxiety that I long ago put out of my life.    It's also caused me to loosen the possessive "mom-grip" that I tend to have on my kids, knocking out all insane notions that I am in any way in control of anything.   Daily, I am challenged to let go of my fears and to trust God in ways that I should have been all along.  I read scripture that reminds me that He loves us and is watching over my kids. I find myself time and time again throughout the day bringing my concerns to the Lord, seeking His strength and His peace.

It's not all bad to have the depths of your heart woken up a bit.  It's a great thing to seek comfort in God's word and to trust more fully in His presence and His promises. Desperation makes me cry out even more to my Heavenly Father and His perfect peace never fails when I choose to bring myself honestly and fully to Him.  It's been a blessing to come together with Patrick in our collective thoughts and feelings about our girl, Maddie.  To have him as my partner in the good AND hard of life is one of the best ways that God has ever shown His love to me.   I have found great peace in music and in rest.
These are the good things that come from leaning into the feelings that have accompanied this unexpected life-change.  Admittedly, I  long to move through the stages of grief more quickly and to set up camp in Acceptance.  I feel like here is where I will be able to relax and hang out with less sadness. However, I know there is value to each step of this journey,  so for now, I'm willing to just take the next right step.

Maddie is a strong warrior who is walking down this path set out before her with such strength and such poise.  She is brave and capable and most of all, full of laughter and life.  I admire her capacity to take in this unexpected and challenging hardship and still live life with an abundance of joy.

Normal days are becoming more normal again.  So often, I have taken them for granted.  But now, I'm just grateful for them.  Over the last few months we've had days of soccer, Sunday afternoon fishing trips, a fantastic Spring Break trip to Moab, and Patrick and I even got away for a quick trip to SF.  Life is not perfect or easy, but it is most certainly beautiful and one to be treasured.  

Psalm 71