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Broken Gas Gauges

“… for it is time to seek the Lord.”   Hosea 10:12
     Past summers seemed to have a rhythm to them: I’d be up and out fairly early for a short and fun Adventure with my kids, then back home with a long expanse of time still left to the day for Quiet Time.  During Quiet Time, my older boys would chill out in their room listening to books on CD, my daughter would nap, and I would enjoy a cup of afternoon coffee on the recliner in the living room.  While I sat there, enjoying my air conditioning, I’d look out the window at the lush green trees and the deep blue sky filled with puffy white clouds.  I’d replay that day’s Adventure in my head and make notations in my Gratitude Journal – recording my thanks for the fun my kids had, and the joy I got out of watching them.  I’d also use that Quiet Time to pray, to reconnect with God, to point the gratitude His way, and be refilled and refueled in the process.  In those moments, I knew that I was blessed to lead the life of a mom with young kids, and I was bursting with awareness and appreciation.
     But I haven’t found my summer groove yet.  In fact, all I’m finding are ruts, pot holes, and quick sand.  We were cruising along just fine, having fun Adventures to great places, and wonderful pool playdates with dear friends.  But I didn’t have the pacing yet.  I wasn’t drawing limits.  I was either allowing the Adventures to be of epic proportions, overstaying our welcome, or using the small bits of down time to drag my kids around on the dozens of errands that I didn’t wrap up before school ended.  I was still doing it all and I was still doing okay.  I was looking forward to when all the errands were done, and the limits were drawn, so I could re-institute Quiet Time.  But, all in all, I was doing okay.  Until today…
     Today is “crash and burn” day.  It isn’t just a “tired” day.  It is a day where my brain is so scrambled my ears are ringing; my body is so exhausted I feel like I either have the flu, or I’m back in the first trimester of pregnancy fatigue; and I am so soul-weary I am at rock bottom.  I am shocked and amazed that I didn’t see this coming!!!
     I thought I was routinely checking my internal gas gauge.  I thought my tank still had enough to keep going.  But clearly the needle was broken!  It should have been pointing to “Empty” days ago.  Again, I just can’t believe I didn’t see this coming.  I’ve been doing this “summer mom” thing long enough.  Like the fact that I know I can’t drive to Canada on just one tank of gas, no matter what the gas gauge says, I know I can’t do day-in, day-out Adventures with my kids without having daily Quiet Time to refuel.  It just isn’t feasible for me!
     To make matters worse, I have some more than usual stress to add to the pile of awful and overwhelmed feelings I’m dealing with.  In two days I have company coming for a four day visit.  I haven’t gone grocery shopping in a week and a half.  I haven’t cleaned my house in over three weeks.  I spent the morning trying to conquer it all.  Instead, I just ended up spinning my wheels and screaming at my kids:  taking it out on them, as if it’s their fault.  I’m the mom.  I make the Adventure plans.  I pace out the day.  They’re just along for the ride.  It’s not their fault I crashed us all into a wall at high speed!
     So here I am, hiding in my bedroom, while the TV entertains my kids downstairs.  No matter what items are waiting to be done, be them unpleasant chores or fun Adventures, they’re all going to have to wait.  I need to purge all these terrible feelings for my kids’ sake and mine, as well as to make room for God to refill me.  If I want to have the energy and centeredness to make this a fun and enjoyable summer, I need to be disciplined about Quiet Time every single day.  So excuse me as I step away for a bit, …”for it is time to seek the Lord.”
Posted by at 1:43 PM

2 comments:

  1. I am so sorry you are struggling to find your summer groove! I know how important that reflective/quiet time is to you. I hope that you can be kind to yourself in the coming days and can relax and enjoy your company. They won’t mind a little mess, it is life, we all have those “beautiful messes”. Be good to you.
    I too am struggling with the summer rhythm. At this point I wonder if it is worth finding since it will all change again in August and then again in September. I too feel like I am floundering a bit 😦
    Thanks again for your honesty!

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The Act of Simply Receiving

“And He is not served by human hands, as if He needed anything, because He himself gives all men life and breath and everything else.”  Acts 17:25
     I was fortunate to meet an amazing mom a few years ago as the result of a terrible tragedy.  She lost her husband when her kids were only three and five.  As a fellow mother of young kids, I ached for her.  The emotional turmoil I felt could only be quelled with action.  Although all I could think of to do was to make a meal for her, I wanted to give it wholeheartedly, with absolutely no expectation of reciprocation.
     When I knocked on her door to deliver the meal, I was blown away by her ability to receive from a total stranger.  She stood on her side of the door, steeped in her grief, graciously thanked me, and let me fill her hands.  I knew in that moment that she had given me so much more than I had given her:  she completed my giving by simply receiving.
     Before receiving his First Holy Communion a few weeks ago, my son Mason had a rehearsal.  As all the eight-year-olds lined up to practice receiving Communion for the first time, a few of them were reaching out to grab the unblessed wafer.  It happened so often that the Religious Education Director stopped the rehearsal to catch everyone’s attention.  She explained to the kids that Jesus gives us His body through the sacrament of Holy Communion.  They aren’t supposed to reach out and grab it; they are supposed to cup their hands, remain still, and simply receive the host.
     Although I’ve carried the living example of that incredible mom with me ever since, it was the simply stated words of the Religious Ed. Director that brought the lesson to completion for me.  I’m not one to cup my hands, remain still and simply receive.  If someone does something kind for me, I feel compelled to give back.  There is a forever active scorekeeper in my head that won’t let me rest until I’ve returned the favor: cooking a meal for them, babysitting for them, or buying a thank you gift for them.  I don’t ever want to be perceived as a someone who takes advantage.
     Nor do I ever want to take advantage of God’s blessings.  I always feel compelled to earn His grace, doing for others so that I will be worthy of what Jesus did for me.
     Long ago, the world was in a tragic state.  God felt compelled to take action.  He gave us His only begotton Son, Jesus.  Jesus, in turn, gave up His life for us, wholeheartedly, with absolutely no expectation of reciprocation.  God doesn’t keep score; Jesus doesn’t ask to be repayed.  Serving Him, or others, doesn’t make me any more worthy of His love.  Of course I try to follow His commandments and do good works to perpetuate His love, but I am worthy enough singularly because of what He did for me.  However, if I don’t accept His invitation to the altar to receive Communion, I’ve broken the cycle, derailed the sacrifice, because I am not there to complete the process of His giving.
     As I approach the altar from now on, I hope to keep the vision of my friend, and the words of the Religious Ed Director, fresh in my mind.  I am going to cup my hands, remain still, and receive.  As my hands are being filled, I will complete Jesus’ giving with an “Amen” of deep gratitude, letting His graces wash over me, and fill me, through the act of simply receiving.
Posted by at 8:49 AM

1 comment:

  1. Oh Claire…thank you for these beautiful words! They really struck a chord with me. You always have such awesome insight.

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Growth Spurts and Growing Pains

“Simply let your ‘Yes’ be ‘Yes,’ and your ‘No,’ ‘No.'”      Matthew 5:37
    There’s a bad vibe in my house right now.  My oldest son Zack is turning ten in August.  He’s fighting for more independence than I’m willing to give.  It’s a cyclical thing with us.  The head-butting seems to happen both when a new school years beings, and again when it ends.  They are his milestones, his transition times.  Like a snail, he has outgrown one shell and is searching for a bigger one.
    So here we are at the end of another school year.  Here we are again, head-butting.  Knowing that the old boundaries don’t apply anymore, I’ve relaxed my rules, blurred the lines between what he can get away with, and what he can’t.  My “Yes” is not meaning just “Yes.”  My “No” is not meaning just “No.”  Both responses have an undertone of “Maybe.”  Zack’s a smart kid.  He knows that “Maybe” is a lot closer to “Yes” than “No” is.  So he’s hounding me, pushing me until he badgers me into saying “Yes.”  It’s completely frustrating, and utterly exhausting!  Both feelings lead to me losing my cool.  No wonder the household is a mess!
     With some distance, the solution is easy to see.  I am the only mom who can decide what freedoms Zack can gain, what new shell will fit him, and what new freedoms he’s not yet ready for.  But seeing as I haven’t defined those boundaries for myself, how can I define them for him?       The real truth is, Zack is growing up in front of my very eyes, and I am panicked.  He’s my first child.  This is unchartered territory for me.  I don’t like transitions.  I don’t like change.  Obviously is’t a control issue (such a recurring theme for me).  I love motherhood when I am the General, my kids are little soldiers, and they follow “orders from headquarters.”*  But Generals drill the fun out of everything.  They crush individuality, and stifle creativity.
     Jesus never stifled people or crushed their spirits.  He defined boundaries, without a doubt, but those boundaries were for people’s benefit, to channel their energy in the right direction, to point them towards the path that would make them better people.  Most of all, the boundaries were clear cut, and were defined with love.
     Unless I want this bad vibe to exist all summer long and crash into the next growth spurt when the new school year begins, I need to take action.  But the action needs to be a soul searching one, a prayerful one.  I need to turn to other moms with older kids for guidance, for sure.  But, more importantly, I have to go to my core:  that place where my mother’s intuition guides me out of a deep knowing of who Zack is, and what he, the individual, is really ready for.
     I also need to turn to God in prayer, begging for the wisdom to know where to reset the boundaries so that they align with His boundaries, His will, and His vision of who Zack will become.  I also need to seek His patience to stand by and watch Zack stumble a bit with the new freedoms, to hold my tongue and let Zack figure it out on his own, or be there for him to pick up the pieces when he’s overwhelmed.  I also need to seek God’s counsel to constantly be assessing the new boundaries, to confirm whether I’ve shifted the lines to the right places or not.  Lastly, I need God to grant me the humility to admit to both Zack, and myself, when I’ve made a mistake.
     Zack is an incredibly rational kid.  When a rule makes sense to him, he follows it to a “T.”  It’s not his fault that he’s compelled to push the boundaries, stretch them to accommodate his growth.  These are the growth spurts and growing pains of life.  It’s my fault for not recognizing the signs earlier, and doing what needed to be done.  But once I’ve defined things for us both, I can once again be firm in my convictions.  That’s when the the logical Zack will accept when my “Yes” means “Yes,” and my “No” means “No.”
* I’d like to thank Angela Hanafin who allowed me to use the phrase “orders from headquarters” that she coined.

Posted by at 2:59 PM

1 comment:

  1. Yes yes yes! Dealing with the same thing at my house…still figuring it out and trying to find my groove…

    ReplyDelete

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A Motherhood Crossroad

     “If any one of you is without sin, let him be the first to throw a stone at her.”…..  
     At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman standing there.  Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they?  Has no one condemned you?”
     “No one, sir,” she said.
     “Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared.  “Go now and leave your life of sin.”                                          John 8:7, 9-11
     I was driving with my son Mason to go pick up his older brother Zack from an after school activity.  Mason picked up the book of questions for kids that I had purchased in my endeavor to use the little moments, like driving in the car, to further connect.  He randomly picked a question and read it aloud, “If one thing had to be eliminated from TV shows forever, would you eliminate sex or violence?”
     The first thought that ran through my head was, “WHAT was that question doing in a book for kids?!!!”  My second thought was, “Shame on me for not previewing the book in advance for appropriateness!”  But there is was – out there.  So, rather than burying my head in the sand, I decided to go with it.  I said that, as a mom, my preference would be to eliminate both sex and violence, although I knew that I wasn’t following the rules of the question.
     My eight-year-old son’s response was, “I think I know what sex is.”  Taking a big gulp, and praying to the Holy Spirit for help, I asked him what he thought it was.  His answer about what happens between “a girl and a boy” was so blunt and graphic, I almost drove off the road!!!  When I recovered, I asked him who told him that definition.  When he said his nine-year-old brother Zack, I almost crashed into a tree!!!
     It was in that moment, and later that evening when I spoke privately with Zack about it, that I realized I was at a motherhood crossroad.  My natural reaction was to scream, yell, and punish my kids for talking like they were.  But how I responded was going to determine whether they came to me in the future for guidance, or whether they went somewhere else out of fear, judgement, and punishment from me.
     It was then that I remembered Jesus’ response to the woman who sinned.  By challenging the crowd to examine their own consciences before throwing the first stone, He helped them realize that we all make mistakes and shouldn’t judge.  By not condemning the woman Himself, He demonstrated understanding, compassion, and unconditional love.  By telling her to leave her life of sin, He held her lovingly accountable for her mistakes, yet challenged and encouraged her to rise above them to become a better person.  From this perspective, my choice on how to respond to my boys was obvious, and surprisingly easy.
     I’m sure that this is only the first of many, many moments when this topic catches me off guard, like a deer in headlights.  But it felt really wonderful to recognize and follow the sign at the fork in the road that Jesus put up for us centuries ago.  I know it’s impossible to respond as well as Jesus did, but I felt true peace as I navigated this landmine, with Jesus’ example as my guide.
Posted by at 1:49 PM

2 comments:

  1. Wow!! I am so dreading this conversation. Thank you for sharing your experience in such an honest way. I am putting this post and that bible passage away in my memory bank so that I too can handle the situation with grace. Thank you!

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  2. I would have crashed into the tree! 🙂 I hope that I will be able to step back, take a deep breath and think about what Jesus would do before I freak out on them when this issue comes up. Thanks Claire!

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It’s Okay To Not Know

“I was at a loss how to investigate such matters; so I asked if he would be willing to go to Jerusalem an stand trial there on these charges.”        Acts 25:20
2014 June 039

Questioning Creeper Head Courtesy of Zack McGarry (age 9 1/2)

  I was recently part of a book club with some wonderful women who taught me so much.  One, in particular, demonstrated to me that it’s okay to not know something.  When a topic arose that she didn’t know about, she simply said so.  Without belittling her or being condescending, another woman would explain and fill in the missing pieces of information.  Nine times out of ten, I didn’t know the information either, but I wasn’t as secure as my friend was.  I didn’t have the courage to admit I didn’t know something.  I never voice my “not knowing” because of fear of ridicule.  Ironically enough, when this woman admitted hers, I was filled with awe and respect.  I admired her courage.  I wanted to be more like her.
     My husband and I watch the TV show “West Wing” on Netflix (we’re always eight or ten years behind the average viewing audience).  Episode after episode, the President faces some calamity or conundrum, and always turns to his advisers for help.  Although it’s fictional, it blew me away to think that the most powerful man in our country so readily admits the he doesn’t know something.  Wisely and maturely, he recognizes that there aren’t enough hours in the day to know it all.  Therefore, he has hand picked and surrounded himself with some of the smartest and most trusted people he knows.  In his “not knowing,” he has people to turn to for help.
     Although too many to count, my biggest “not knowing” categories are history and current events.  History bored me to tears in school; I just don’t think my brain is configured to remember dates and facts.  Furthermore, I don’t read the newspaper (on-line or hard-copy), and I don’t watch the news.  There, I’ve admitted it!  I am just too emotional, too impressionable. The tragedies and horror stories featured in the news depress me beyond words.  Plus, there’s nothing I can do about those big picture issues anyways.  Instead, I choose to use my time and energy to try and make my little corner of the world a better place.  It feels like a more practical use of my time, far more proactive.
     Like my book club friend, the fictional President, and Festus, the governor of Judea in this scripture passage, I want to freely admit that I don’t know something.  I want to quit pretending, expose myself to the light.  I already have surrounded myself with wise and intelligent people whom I trust.  Now I want to turn to them, and to God, to teach me and to counsel me in all that I do not know.
     Although I want to make this change for me, I also want to role model this for my children.  I want to teach them that the best way to learn, and the most honest way to live, is to stop pretending.  I want to teach them that it’s okay to not know.
Posted by at 6:36 AM
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Doing What Only I Can Do

In those days when the number of disciples was increasing, the Grecian Jews among them complained against the Hebraic Jews because their widows were being overlooked in the daily distribution of food.  So the Twelve gathered all the disciples together and said, “It would not be right for us to neglect the ministry of the word of God in order to wait tables.”     Acts 6:1-2
    I recently read Alexandra Kuykendall’s book, “The Artist’s Daughter.”  In it, she’s overwhelmed with all the “to do’s” in her life.  When grappling with what to step up for, versus what to cut out, she uses the phrase “Do what only I can do.”  My immediate thought was that the editor overlooked a typographical error and it was supposed to say, “Do only what I can do.”  But Kuykendall goes on to clarify that if someone else is able to do something, the onus doesn’t fall just on her to do it.  There are others who can step forward and help.  It’s the things that ONLY she can do, that no one else can, that she absolutely should step forward for.
    In this scripture passage, the Apostles knew this instinctively.  Of course they were capable of serving the widows during the daily distribution of food.  But so weren’t others.  What others couldn’t do was spread the word of God as well as the Apostles could.  That was something “ONLY they could do.”  They couldn’t neglect that; it was their top priority.  Instead, they carefully chose and empowered others to serve the widows.  They heard the need, discerned a solution, and then delegated out the task that would have robbed them of their time to fulfill their number one priority.
    I could learn a lot from both Kuykendall and the Apostles in this department.  When I look at my plate and how full it is, I need to use this philosophy to decide my priorities, and to discern what I can either step away from, or delegate out.  As a wise person said to me, taking this point further, I need to incorporate this view point not just from my front door out, but from my front door in.  ONLY I can nurture, teach and love my children the way that God has called me to do.  If stepping forward to collect money for the teacher’s end of the year gift means I’m sending and responding to so many emails I’m neglecting my own kids, I need to realize that someone else is perfectly capable of that task.  If volunteering to be a Boy Scout Leader or Destination Imagination coach means that I won’t be home to oversee homework or cook somewhat healthy dinners, I need to realize that someone else could be just as good of a leader or coach as I could be, probably better!
    However, in the chaos that is dinnertime, I am the ONLY one who can deal with the cooking.  But that doesn’t mean I can’t delegate out parts of the process to my kids.  Zack, who can’t work the oven and stove top yet, can fill the water glasses.  Mason, who hasn’t quite mastered carrying full glasses to the table without spilling them yet, can fold napkins.  Jocelyn, who can’t fold napkins yet, can put the silverware on the table.  In fact, helping to set the table not only empowers my kids, but it teaches them that many hands make for lighter work, and that helping feels good.
    Yes, we should step forward as often as we can to help out, to pay things forward, to make the world a better place.  But when we aren’t able to accomplish the tasks that ONLY we can do, that God has called us to do, we have to recheck our priorities, and align our actions with them.
    The Apostles knew that their number one priority was to spread the Word of God.  Had they not kept that priority front and center, the Church and God’s message would have suffered greatly.  My number one priority is to be there for my kids.  I can’t run the risk any longer of losing sight of that priority.  If I do, both my kids and I will suffer greatly.
Posted by at 8:37 AM
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I Want To Be The Pathway

“No one comes to the Father except through me.”          John 14:6
    I was raised with a focus more on God than on Jesus.  I imagined God like most kids do: extremely tall, with flowing robes and a long white beard.  He was up in Heaven, on a throne, far, far away.
     The exposure I had to Jesus was primarily His passion and crucifixion.  The artwork hanging in my childhood home showed the drops of blood He sweated during His agony in the Garden, and the open and bleeding wounds all over His body as He hung on the cross.  The messages were always that God was watching and judging, and Jesus was always bleeding and suffering for my sins.  Those messages are true, but they are not the whole story.
     Now as an adult, I’ve come to know Jesus as the Good Shepherd who leaves the ninety-nine sheep to go after the one missing, the man who challenges the teachers of the law and Pharisees to examine their own consciences before casting the first stone at the sinning woman, and the friend who washes the feet of His own disciples, as He came to serve, rather than be served.
     I know that boundaries, rules and consequences are critical tools to use when raising children.  It was the stern God and the suffering Jesus that intimidated me into staying on the straight and narrow (more or less).  But now it’s the compassionate Jesus that inspires me to try again every day to live out His message.
     Although it comes naturally for me to parent with a watchful eye, using boundaries, rules, and consequences as my tools, I need to balance out my toolbox by also parenting like Jesus. I want to be so invested, so compassionate, and so humble that my kids are motivated to make the right choices because of my example.  I want to ingest Jesus and His teachings so deeply that His grace fills me up to the point of spilling out and onto my children.  Like we are drawn towards a fire on a cold night, I want my kids to be drawn towards the warmth of Jesus’ love radiating out of me.  I want my words and actions to inspire my kids to want to try harder, to want to be closer to God.  Like Jesus is the pathway through whom we meet God, I want to be the pathway through whom my kids meet Jesus.
Posted by at 11:56 AM

2 comments:

  1. I too grew up with God as the main focus in my Christian upbringing. It hasn’t been until the last few years that I have started to understood all that Jesus did in his short life. I love this post, so inspirational and I hope to tuck it away for those days I need a lift. Thank you

    ReplyDelete

  2. Thanks so much for commenting Jess. You’ve always been so supportive and encouraging. It means the world to me. 🙂

    ReplyDelete

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Plastic Bins Loaded With Toys

“Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls.  For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
         Matthew 11:29-30
     I run a mommy-and-me program at my church every Wednesday morning.  In addition to a Bible puppet story, craft, and snack, there is twenty-five minutes of open play with toys donated by parishioners.  The toys are stored in four plastic bins kept in the closet.  The kids LOVE to help carry the bins out for play time, and then bring them back in after.  Most times it takes three or four kids to carry one bin, with a mom closely supervising, ready to intervene if someone is going to get hurt, ready to steer the group in the right direction, and ready to lend a hand to lighten the load.
     There is one little boy, named Daniel, who insists on carrying a bin all by himself.  Granted, this boy is incredibly strong for an almost-four-year-old, but he’s still just a kid.  As he carries that bin, it bumps off of walls and almost bangs into other kids as he struggles under the heavy weight of it.
     Without a doubt, I am a Daniel.  No matter my age, or who offers to help me, I continue to carry heavy loads all by myself.  Obviously it’s a control issue.  I want to carry my bucket all by myself so I can decide what I put in it, where I take it, and what I do with it all.  But when I get overburdened, or start crashing into walls and people, it’s time to make a change.  Daniel is only almost-four.  Developmentally, he’s supposed to be challenging boundaries, testing his capabilities, and demanding his right to do things all by himself.  But I’m a LOT older than almost-four.  I should have learned all those lessons long ago.
     Fortunately, Jesus is a patient teacher.  Over and over again, He’s teaching me that He’s gentle and humble of heart; I need to learn to be gentle with myself.  He teaches me that He doesn’t give heavy burdens; I need to learn that most of my burdens are of my own making and aren’t necessary.  It’s just like things are with Daniel: no one has asked Daniel to carry the bucket of toys all by himself.  In fact, there’s eight other kids surrounding him, begging to help.  Likewise, Jesus isn’t asking me to do anything all by myself either.  He’s constantly surrounding me with people who are willing to help; I just need to learn to recognize my limitations, and accept that help when it’s offered.
     More than the people around me, though, it’s Jesus who is always patiently waiting to be the source of that help.  He’s hovering over me, like the supervising adult hovers over Daniel, just waiting to intervene if I’m going to get hurt, ready to steer me in the right direction when I get off course, ready to lend a hand when things get too heavy.  Despite my control issues, and the fact that most of my burdens are self-created, He is offering to share the weight of each and every one of them.  The yoke He’s offering is easy.  It joins us together.  It spreads the weight out.  It lightens the load.  All I need to do is ask.  Jesus is incredibly respectful.  He’ll never overstep my boundaries.  The onus is on me to humble my heart, and ask for His help.  It is then that I will find rest for my soul.

Posted by at 2:17 PM

2 comments:

  1. I think we all need to start relying on each others help more often. I often find myself taking on more than I should. Kudos to you for recognizing this in yourself and making changes! I’m proud of you!

    ReplyDelete

    Replies

  2. Thanks so much Pam for commenting. Your encouragement inspires me to keep on trying to overcome my control issues!

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My Recycle Bin Overfloweth

They will celebrate your abundant goodness and joyfully sing of your righteousness.            Psalm 145:7
      In our home, a recycle bin sits on the landing of the stairs leading to the basement.  When there’s something to be recycled, I place it at the top of the steps, take aim, kick the item down the steps, and nine times out of ten, it bounces off of the wall and completely misses the bin on the landing.  My kids are well trained in dodging the debris littered all over the steps as they go up and down them.  (Unfortunately, they’re not well trained to actually pick up the items and place them in the bin for me.  That’s a challenge for another day.)  When my hands aren’t full of grocery bags, backpacks, and sippy cups, I do my best to clean up the mess as I go to and from the garage.
    A few weekends ago, my husband had to travel to Pennsylvania.  On my own, with karate and back-to-back birthday parties, I never made it to the dump with all of our trash and recyclables.  The weekend rolled into a busy week, and neither my husband nor I had a chance to do a mid-week trip to the transfer station.
     After two full weeks of not getting to the dump, there was a bin overflowing on the landing, another one overflowing in the basement, and a huge black trash bag bursting with recyclables in the garage.  Even my well trained kids couldn’t avoid the landmine going down the stairs anymore.  I was getting downright aggravated by the trip hazard and the monumental mess everywhere!
     Then I heard a whisper, “Be grateful.”  I have no idea how I heard it in the chaos that is my household, but there it was, gentle but firm.  Suddenly, I started seeing the overflow of boxes, cans and jugs as a blessing!  How lucky am I that I have a husband who provides for us so I can buy food for my family?  How fortunate am I that there are farmers and workers who grow the food, harvest it, package it, and deliver it to the grocery store where all I have to do is reach out and grab it?
     Although I hope to someday cook less half-processed food for a healthier lifestyle, and therefore have less recyclables, I always want to view my recycle bin with gratitude.  As I do so, I want to say a prayer of thanks for the people whose efforts fill those boxes, cans and jugs.  Most of all, I want to say a prayer of gratitude to God, Who has blessed me so abundantly that my recycle bin, and my life, overfloweth.
Posted by at 11:58 AM
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The Foul Language Phase of My Frustration

But he said to me, “My grace if for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
     2 Corinthians 12:9
     My kids know to run for cover when I start screaming and yelling over the smallest infractions.  My husband knows to run for cover when I get quiet, so rock bottom that I don’t have the energy to scream and complain anymore.  What neither my kids, nor my husband know about is the Foul Language Phase of My Frustration.
     The Foul Language Phase of My Frustration precedes the two phases mentioned above.  It begins when my well is getting drained faster than I can fill it.  In this phase, there is a running commentary in my head that includes every foul word in the book, a monologue that would put a truck driver to shame.  “Zack, if you ask me one more _____ time to play Minecraft, I’m going to throw the ____ computer out the window!”  “Mason, do I have to remind you every ____ night to put the ____ night time laundry in the ____ hamper?”  “Jocelyn, do you have to pull every ____ princess dress out of the ____ dress up box and leave them all over the ____ house?”  “John, every ____ dish doesn’t have to soak in the sink for ____ hours.  Put your ____ plate in the ____ dishwasher!”  All of this takes place in my head, but I scream it so loud in there, it’s a wonder they can’t hear it.
     Until now, I’ve always indulged in this phase, letting the profanities fly in my head, getting some satisfaction from the fact that I’m growling back at whatever, or whomever, is annoying me.  But today, I’m seeing things differently.
     I’m realizing that this phase is a gift.  Like the yellow light that glows on the dashboard of my car, this phase is the warning signal that my tank is running low:  I haven’t run out of gas yet, but if I don’t stop and fill up, I will be stranded on the road of my life, either screaming and yelling, or getting eerily quiet and withdrawn.
     I’m also realizing that it’s not my kids’ job, or my husband’s, to recognize this warning sign.  It’s mine.  Yes, it would be wonderful if they all just did what they were supposed to do and made my life easy.  But that’s not reality, and this is not Heaven.  Instead, I need to snap to when the foul language starts flying in my head, and recognize the situation for what it is.
     This phase is a reminder from God that I can’t do this mothering thing on my own.  If I’m not praying through it all, all the time, the downward spiral begins.  It’s so much easier to stop and get gas in that moment when the light turns on, than it is to walk for miles to a gas station and back with a gas can banging against my thigh, or wait for hours for AAA with three kids cooped up in a minivan.  So too, it would be much easier to stop in the Foul Language Phase and pray for guidance and patience, than it is to scream and yell, giving myself and everyone else around me a head ache and bad feelings.
     I am weak.  I do stumble.  I do use foul language in my head like a truck driver.  But in these moments, if I turn to God for help, in my weakness His power is made perfect.
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Have you identified your pre-melt down phase?  Have you ever tried praying through that phase?  Has it helped?  I’d love to learn from you and be affirmed that I’m not alone in my melt-downs and what precedes them.

Posted by at 7:00 AM

1 comment:

  1. As your mother, I can’t believe you even think foul language!!! :). Keep up the good work!

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