Soul Rest

            It’s the end of another day, the backpacks are emptied, the dishes stacked full in the dishwasher & the kids sitting in their pajamas with sleepy eyes as they gaze up toward the TV.

I’m wearing baggie sweats, a loose sweatshirt and my hair that was nicely straightened this morning is thrown up in a bun because it was getting in my face during bath time. As the kids settled in to their usual spots on the couch for the evening, I paused in the kitchen to catch my breath. I’m sure many other mamas can relate, that moment when you come up for air after doing a slew of things. Take a deep breath, notice how tired you feel and then you pull up your invisible boot straps and push forward.

           

I decided to warm up some water in a Christmas mug and make some decaf chai tea, a little something I could do for myself and hang on too, literally. As I stood there continuing to catch my breath, watching the mug swirl around and around in the microwave, I started to feel my heart rate come down and my mind ease a little, but that feeling of absolute exhaustion still lingered. It isn’t that type of exhaustion that can be cured by a good night’s rest…it’s that soul gripping exhaustion.

            

Slowly steeping my tea, watching the clear water turn over to a calming, oaky tea color, I couldn’t help but ask myself, “Isn’t there a way for me to maneuver my way through this exhausting season of motherhood and still find true, soulful rest?”

            

This seems to be the theme for my life lately, I don’t sit down nearly as often as I’d like too, to write and craft blogs. I still find rest and reason in the clacking of keys and the epiphanies that happen as I fill a blank page. 

            

Each morning, my son wakes me up usually before the raw hour of 6am. As I can’t control when he decides to wake, I can control how I feel about it and what I do with this precious time when it’s just him and I. Instead of groaning, I’ve been working really hard on spending this time I have with him intentionally. We pour our morning drinks, his orange juice and my pre-workout and we sit cuddled by the fire in our living room. I turn on a show for him on low volume and I crack open my devotions and then later my prayer journal. The theme that the Lord has been really bringing to my attention is ‘dependency.’

           

I’ve taken weekend trips away. I’ve gone and got pedicures with hot cups of coffee. You know, those ‘self-care’ things that everyone preaches, “You got to do for yourself, lady!” I’ll be the first to tell you, these things are not bad! They are wonderful, amazing things that a Mama deserves to do! But they don’t bring my soul rest. They just don’t. I get home, the same old milk spills or the dog chews a stuffed animal and white stuffing is all over the house and the carousel just keeps on spinning.  

            

I’ve learned that you can’t put your happiness and how ‘well’ your day is going or how ‘good’ your kids are behaving. We are all imperfect people and if I did that I’d be let down and have A LOT of bad days.

 I’m standing in the midst of my day, I’m totally overwhelmed with the fact that my kids are sick, I haven’t exercised in 3 days and I’m failing because my fridge is empty and I have no idea what the heck I need to fill It with. I go to the store with a fussy child, cold weather and wander around trying to not forget something. My heart begins to ache and I look over toward a lady, casually reading a box, I think to myself, “I am so jealous of her. I wish I was alone. I wish I could have just a second to THINK.” Then my two year old knocks over 2 boxes of cereal off a shelf.

Sound familiar?

Earlier, I mentioned that the Lord has been teaching me dependency and what that truly means in the trenches of my every-day, not so perfect situations. Now, I’m still learning and I still haven’t got this whole thing figured out. But today as I stood there and watched my mug swirl and I felt my soul longing for rest, I knew I needed to share this. Throw this out in to the space where I share with other mamas, that we can’t do this on our own. We are boss ladies, we get it done, we know how to brush our daughter’s hair in a way that doesn’t pull and what shoes stay on our son’s feet if we’re going to be doing a lot of walking. We hold the bags full of essentials but after a while our souls feel barren and spent. God didn’t design us to hold these things for as long and as tight as we hold them. I’m learning that when I’m in the midst of these moments, I have to lay it out and call out to the one that made me a Mom in the first place.

We are doing holy work. We aren’t just sweeping floors and folding laundry for the 100x this week, we are raising children that will carry on HIS legacy and HIS love in to the future. I know you’re tired, He knows you’re tired. Instead of sitting in our exhaustion and wallowing in that space, set the ‘bag’ down and choose dependency. Choose to ask for peace, for direction & reminders toward the importance of the role you hold.  

Do I Really Have What it Takes?

            Today was one of those marathon days, where I found myself taking a moment to breathe deep and dig even deeper for strength. Sometimes as I move through my days I can’t help but have that thought, “How am I supposed to handle all of this? I’m only ONE person.” I think we’ve all been there, no matter what title or job we hold, it can become more weight than our hands can bear and we start to stumble a little and maybe if your anything like me, start to question if you have what it takes to do all of this.

            

I’m a powerhouse, I’m not afraid to share that piece about myself. From the time I was 15, I had a job. I worked late shifts and saved money and from a young age took pride in hard work and a paycheck. From the many titles I’ve held, Motherhood has been the MOST humbling. Even more so, because that thing called a paycheck doesn’t come by doing the 24/7 job you carry as a parent; it comes with more work and more coordination. Humbling work, am I right?

           

Today as I was driving to my cleaning job, I had one of those moments I spoke about earlier. The moment where I found my breath coming up through my lungs, shaky and overwhelmed, that feeling of defeat looming over my heart and I muttered out, “How do I do all of this, Lord?”

            

I instantly felt a response and it was so humbling. The Lord reminded me that He didn’t design me to handle it all. He reminded me that He made me this way, so I would look up, and ask for His help.

I didn’t actually stop as I had work to do. But the feeling that I had to bear all of these things myself vanished. My heart felt lighter and I told the Lord that even though I was completely spent, I trusted that He’d get me through this.

Even though I have powerhouse fuel flowing through my veins, I’m only human. I’m breakable. I’m strong but not strong enough to handle it all. I’ve always taken such pride in being able to do it all, and do it well. I’m going to tell you all this right now, being tired and exhausted, with a heart that feels trampled- isn’t the result of strength.

True strength comes from laying down our own understanding, closing our eyes tight and admitting to the creator of our strength that we need His direction and His help. God created you just as He meant too, He knows why He gave you this life and He knows exactly what you need. Don’t ever doubt that you won’t have what it takes, because God will give it you.

When the Going gets Tough

            It’s a warm evening, the sun is just setting behind the trees in my back yard, and the house is quiet with the exception of my daughter playing her iPad next to me.

            

I can always tell when it’s a writing night because my heart gets this feeling of urgency. It’s like the inner workings of everything that’s been happening in my life, need a place to land and I end up here. I’ve been finding my footing in this space of adult-hood, especially in the last 8 months. When I started putting my health first, my mental health became a priority too. It’s all connected. I’m learning that the things we go through in this life-time are all filtered through these three things we need to balance. Our minds, our spirituality & our physical bodies. I’m learning this year that we need to work on all three in order to find momentum to move forward, to grow.

I’ve always been a transparent person. If I’m not willing to share and be relational, how can I grow? Something I’ve always been a little hesitant to share about is my marriage. It’s a sacred space and I like to keep it hidden in this safe little box. But when I speak of relationships- how can I not speak of one of the biggest relationships in my life?

Jon and I have been married for now 5 years, been together for 10. We’ve been through more things I can list here, but we’ve always managed to stay on a steady pace. Something I think we all hope for is healthy, loving relationships. We want to feel loved. We want to be able to not just communicate but have our words be understood. I will not pretend here that this always happens between the two of us, especially lately.

I have to believe that marriage, even when hard, that we can make it through- because we don’t have an option. When I vowed those promises, I meant it. I may not have understood the magnitude of those promises, but nevertheless, they were made.

I think a lot of us have reached the point where we understand that love is not a feeling, it’s a choice. We need to choose every day to try to make the other one feel loved.

 I think a lot of us get married thinking that since we have such an intense emotion for each other, it will be easy to lean on. 
However when we’re feeling like running away, we need to remember that there are so much more than emotions that keep us strong.

It’s the selflessness of loving that person more than we love ourselves.

It’s digging deeper to remember why we made those promises in the first place.

It’s the importance of standing by our word to be strong examples for our children.

It’s the truth that God loved us so much that He died for us; THAT’S the love God demands us to have for the ones we choose to place in our lives.

I will always be striving to do these things because the love I have for Jon is a choice so much bigger than any emotion I could ever feel; it’s a choice I made because when push comes to shove, God put us in each other’s lives to be there for one another.

To have each other’s best interest and to hold each other up, no matter how we’re feeling that day.

My prayer in writing this delicate piece is that it will be a good reminder, in a world that Satan loves to tease us in to the idea that it would be easier to give up. Stay strong my friends.

He Gave Them To Us, Because We Were Meant To Be Theirs

This season of life brings such a gust of motion. I’m in a constant state of motion, moving from one scenario from the next. My days consist of problem solving, keeping up with the movement of my kids and their needs and breaking up fights over who gets to play with what toy. I reason at a level I’ve mastered, in terms of what’s ‘fair’ to my five year old and my short tempered two-year old. It’s a skill my friends!

            

Tonight was one of the good ones, where I was able to heed my reminder of slowing down and enjoying them in all of their small glory. Cole, my two-year old, didn’t feel ready for bed yet and he screamed, “maaaamaaaaa,” in his crib until I gave in and checked on him. I scooped him up and he gleamed at me, big goofy, “I got my way grin.” He joined me at the table and nibbled on my late night dinner with me. Then we moved in to the living room and read our favorite book together. He loves to point his chubby little finger at various parts of the page and wait for me to tell him what it is. I held his warm body as tight and compact as I could, he’s getting so long. I rocked him slow and thought of what type of man he’ll become.

            

Nights like these come few and far between. Where I actually feel human enough to write; my whole house is quiet and all I can hear is the clacking of keys and the words that seem to flow so naturally from my heart. Writing has always been an outlet and the times I get to release them, I’m reminded of so many of the parts of me that remain under my motherly façade. Most days I fill sippy cups, organize doctor visits and keep up with the evolving door these kids keep running through. But I often find myself curiously thinking of what these kids will become as they become adults, just like I did not that long ago.

           

Childhood is so short. I feel as if I just left my own, and here I am trying to provide one for these kids I love so much. What can I do to ensure they don’t leave damaged because of my own inexperience or my own moments of frustration. I have no answers.

            

What I do have is the constant nudging I have in my heart to be patient and take them in for what they are. Look up and SEE. Stop and LISTEN. Reach out and HOLD them. Make them feel HEARD. Make them feel LOVED. Show them they are SPECIAL. Remind them that it’s okay to make mistakes as long as we try the next time to improve.

           

I’m learning right along with them and the nights I lay my head down on the pillow, and regret who I’ve been that day, I remind myself that as long as I’m doing these things, I have to believe they will grow to know I love them and that I tried my best.

            

I rock slow and ask the Lord for strength to be their foundation and their vessel to God’s promises. I pray that I have what it takes to raise them up to be strong, loving individuals who aren’t afraid to do hard things. I’m in awe that God entrusted these kids to Jon and I, but I know they are ours for a reason. 

Maybe that’s it right there; they were given to us because He knew we were meant to be theirs.

See You Again

The sigh of relief and satisfaction I get when I sit down to craft a blog, is undeniable. The blog has always been a sacred place where I can retreat too, neat rows of words that speak my truths in a way that just make sense to me. Opportunities to write quietly are getting far and few between in this chaotic season of life, but nevertheless, they still happen and when they do, it’s so healing. It brings me back and grounds me.

Tonight is a night like many others, the kids have eaten and been soaked in the tub. The days’ sticky fingers, marker stains & dirt have been scrubbed off and they are clean and in their soft pajamas, ready for bed. Our Coley goes to bed right around 7; he gets his blanket and rubs his eyes almost like clock-work. Hallie will sit on the couch, gazing up at the TV until her eyes flutter shut and she lands on the couch seat next to her. I leave her there most times and watch her sleep, until eventually; I’ll carry her to bed. Our lives, as chaotic as it can get, I work hard at making these last few hours of our day routine and steady.

I strive in an environment where I can predict, so I can prepare. But how do I react when things happen, that I can’t prepare for? I have to look at it straight in the eye and decide; how am I going to handle this? How am I going to manage to feel okay in this, if I’m not ready for it?

A couple weeks ago, I excitedly stood above my bathroom vanity, overlooking a little stick, waiting to see the results; a giant, bright blue, plus sign.

Pregnant!

Days of mental preparation, lists and quiet whispers to my close friends and family. Days of talking, planning and dreaming with my husband, talking about names and bedrooms.

I start praying for protection for this little baby. I buy prenatals and start drinking more water and going to bed earlier. I dream and hope.

I continue my workout regime, dreaming of sharing my journey. What will my belly look like this time around? Can I be a fit pregnant mom, heck yes I can!

I wake up one morning, slowly walk to my bathroom and the first thing that hits my mind is the baby. I wonder how they’re doing in there. I place my hand on my waist.

The next turn of events don’t end in an ultrasound with a happy mother and a peppy Instagram post announcement.

As much as I wish I was posting one of those, instead I sit here crafting this blog; the one where I tell you all, that it happened again.

The fourth pregnancy, but a woman with only two children.

My heart aches, my soul feels bruised. The doctor tried to tell me it was just a pregnancy that “didn’t take.” But it felt a lot like a baby I could have raised, a life that could have brought so much joy to our lives. As I sit in the midst of this miscarriage, I felt such an urge to share with you that this life, though so little, was so loved. I wanted to shout on the top of my lungs that I was pregnant and it mattered. That I didn’t want to just try again, I wanted to continue THIS one.

As I maneuver my way through these emotions, I have such an unwavering peace flowing in. That this baby is a part of my story and they are going to teach me more about myself and the kind of Mother I want to be to the babies that I have been blessed with, here with us.

Our God is a faithful one. He doesn’t give us things that we can’t handle, He gives us trials and tribulations to carve us in to the servant we need to be. I have to move forward, to bring purpose to these lives I held for such a small amount of time.

I am your Mother, you mattered and I will see you, again.

My Corriney

            It’s been a few days since my beloved Corriney passed away. The evening the Lord took her, I had made plans to head up and see her. My parents came over to pile in our truck, with kids in tow, and made our way up to the hospital to see her. She hadn’t been in the hospital long, but something inside me caused haste, telling me to get up there. We missed her by twenty minutes. As we were barreling down I81, our Lord and Savior took His daughter home.

          

  When we got there, she was laying in her bed, so still. In hindsight, the Lord was gracious to me that evening. I was frustrated at the time for not being there when she passed, or even not being able to say goodbye with her still here with us. But now I see, with her wishes to have a closed casket at her funeral, He knew I needed to see her for closure, to see her body one last time to say goodbye.

            It’s taken me a couple of days to process, and each time the wave of sadness strikes, I’m able to follow it up with some sort of smile. Her presence has this effect on you that brings comfort. I’ve felt it all week, even with her gone.

           

It’s been a long time since I’ve lost someone, but I’d have to say so far, this is the hardest loss I’ve had. Corriney was a grandmother to me, she adopted me as her own just naturally, because that’s what she did best; she loved. She loved in a big, loud and reckless way.  She didn’t care if she looked silly doing it, it just was the way she did things. I won’t forget her smell. I won’t forget the way she always had a bunch of things in front of her as she sat where her husband once sat, at the head of the her kitchen table and I won’t forget the way she’d stand In the door way, waiting for you to pull out of the drive way, as if she wanted to be present with you as long as possible.

            

Someone asked me how she impacted my life, and as I’ve had a few days to think of that answer, I’m finally sure on how I want to answer it.

            

Her life was well-lived, long and fruitful, with so many people intertwined among the years. I saw testimony to that today at her funeral. I realized at what being thoughtful and fully present can do to relationships. The importance of recognizing each person that comes in to my life as special. Because they are! That’s the way God wants us to see His people and spread His love among each other. I learned so many things from that woman, but what’s truly impacted me, is to be fully present with everyone; because it matters. The loss of Corriney has reminded me so many times already, to remember that it’s more important than anything else. It’s important with my kids, it’s important with my husband, and it’s important with each and everyone else that I encounter, because that’s how God works; He works within His children.

The Lord still continues to work through her, even still, after she’s left the earth. But you know what remains? Her memory and the change she made in my heart.

I cannot wait to feel that big bear hug from her when I arrive in heaven.

With a long week behind me and her body now laid to rest, I needed a way remember her legacy, because no matter how much time passes, I won’t forget her spirit and her light. Tonight, Jon took me to our local Lowes store, and I searched long and hard for a plant that I could use to represent her life in my home. I found this tree, and its trunk reminded me of the many people that Corriney intertwined together and in that we found relationships. I’ll place her tree in the sunniest spot of my house; I’ll keep it alive and place this photo next to it. I’ll use this as a token of remembrance to my beloved Corriney.