Sometimes, I wonder what God is doing. Like, honestly, does this really have to be the plan? I’m certain if He’d just ask me I’d have a better plan . . . but He hasn’t asked me yet. You know, it’s easier to follow His plans when it’s just me involved. But when you throw […]

My heart is reflective tonight and I want to share with you. I haven’t blogged much this month because life is currently full of transitions. Full of goodbyes and hellos, full of laughter and tears, and full of anticipation for a new season. And in the midst of this happy and sad chaos, I got thrown a curve ball. The type that tries to distract and fill your heart with fear.

Fear runs through my family line you see, and I’ve made alliances with fear many times. Fear often promises comfort, protection, and control, but it is always a sham. It never delivers. And I’ve found the fears that motherhood brings with it are a whole new ballgame. Fears for myself are one thing . . . but my fears for my children are often stronger. Can you relate?

Have you ever looked up one day and realized your entire life revolves around your kids? In a fog of sleeplessness you realize you’re spending all day wiping something or someone . . . and you’ve forgotten even what you used to dream about. You realize you don’t even know what makes you feel alive anymore. And that can be more than a little depressing. When our children are young, our lives necessarily revolve around them. They can’t do anything for themselves and they require much from us. The little years are a season of denying ourselves and I think it is also a time the Lord uses to refine us and prepare us for more. It is a time and season, which also means that it will change and we must emerge from it.

If this thought has stalked you, chances are the fog of sleeplessness is slowly fading away and you’re emerging from the little years. While your children will still {and rightfully so} hold a major share of your time, the world is opening up a little bit again and perhaps the Lord is stirring your heart.

You may not know this, but I am a firstborn–the firstborn of nine children to be exact. And as such, I tend to like rules and definitions. I love things defined so I know what’s expected of me. It bothers me when things aren’t clear and defined–and shifting definitions really, really bother me. One of those phrases whose definition seems to shift frequently is “embracing the gift of motherhood”. Have you noticed it too? It shifts and morphs; and worse than that, it’s often used solely to demean and manipulate a mother. You know the line . . . “If you would just embrace the gift of motherhood . . . “

Not going to lie here, when I hear the phrase I feel a bit like Buddy in the movie Elf, “What’s a Christmas Gram? I want one!” Yeah, just picture me over here jumping up and down, clapping, and exclaiming “What’s the gift of motherhood? I want one!”

The house was still and quiet. We had finally finished evening chores, put the boys to bed, and my hubby and I had just sat down in the living room. Before too long, we heard the tell tale pitter-patter of little feet coming down the hallway. “Momma, I want to snuggle.”

Sigh. It was bedtime, we told him not to get up. I tried to rationalize with him.

The other week I had a really bad day. The kind you call up your hubby and ask for prayers because you aren’t sure you’ll get through the day {a child throwing tantrums and wailing over everything will do that to you}. And by the end of the day, you’ve threatened to hand him a […]

My dryer died this week. On laundry day. During the first load. When I was already behind on laundry. Isn’t that how it goes? So my hubby tore it apart that evening and found that our free dryer needed a $12 part–guess it’s worth fixing, huh? He ordered the part that night and we just had to wait a couple days for it to show up. Now, I didn’t mind having to wear my old, ratty, paint-stained favorite pair of sweatpants that I probably should have thrown away years ago {but they are just at that perfect stage of comfy . . .}, but Gator definitely minded his favorite blankie being in the hamper. He is a man of few words, but he got his point across when he glared at me and ripped it out of the hamper several times.

I used to be cool, back in the day. You know, back when I worked at a library {this now qualifies as cool because it was quiet there 😉 and now ya’ll want a job at a library!}, when we owned an SUV, and we had high-speed, unlimited internet {complete with Netflix}. And now, I’m […]

Gidget has had a few days here recently in which he just hasn’t listened to a word I say. Which in turn means that I’ve been repeating myself endlessly in the vain hope that he will start listening {it’s a viscous cycle, isn’t it?}. So after the up-teenth time of telling him to put his […]

As my boys continue to grow, there is this one little thing that bothers me . . . a lot. It’s this thing called “the terrible twos”. You know what I’m talking about. In my opinion, you really can’t have the title of mom and not have been warned at some point or another about […]