The V O I D

 I sit with you on the floor of my living room, sprawled out on my yoga mat. I had every intention of coming out here on this Saturday morning, while my kids play in their rooms, to do a short quiet time and then a yoga session, to get my day started off right.

            As I read my devotional, I felt the stirring of something that’s been brewing inside my soul for a few days now, begin to boil over. I knew that time was on my side, as we have a slow Saturday ahead of us, that it was time to dig out what the Lord has been trying to teach me and lay it all out on this paper. You see, this blog and writing has always served a consistent purpose for me. Picture a wind tunnel, with little POST-It papers flying around the tunnel, as the wind subsides the POST-It’s land in a heap. Writing for me, is like walking in to the tunnel and laying out the papers so they are neat and orderly, sticking them to the walls in a satisfying line.

            As I bound through my days, raising my kids and keeping my home in order, I pause often to cry out to God for help. Its old news that this is hard and I struggle on the daily to be a patient Mom, an attentive friend & to not freak out while I pick up the toys, again. So, as you can imagine, the wind tunnel is my life and the POST-ITS are my thoughts; when I find myself getting tired of the heap, it’s time to write.

             As I was driving home from my cleaning job last night, I felt the ache of a void. This void is not a stranger, it appears often. Usually in the quieter moments of my days, when I’m driving or when I’m laying down to go to bed. It’s the ache, that something is missing; there is an empty space in my heart that longs to be filled.

            As I maneuver my way through life, I’ve come to realize that this void accompanies all of us. We all have our own void that nestles in our souls and convinces us that we don’t have enough of what we need, in our relationships, in our homes, in our cars or even our Amazon cart.

            This void makes us think that we are lacking and we must spend our lives searching for the one thing that will make us feel whole.

            I’ve spent so many quiet mornings with my journal and my pen, crying out to God about my voids. The things I think I need to be happy, to feel like a successful mother, wife or person. As I have done this, and I continue on living my life, the void is still there. Many could say your God doesn’t hear you; He doesn’t care about your void.

But the more time I spend mulling over this emptiness that I feel, no matter how much is in my bank account or how many inches I may have lost around my waist, it’s there.

 

The void is what God uses to remind us that we need Him, that no matter what we’re facing in our lives, if we don’t filter it through God’s promise to love us, take care of us, and give us what we need, we’ll never feel whole.

Matthew 6: 25-34 says.

“Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they? Who of you by worrying can add a single hour to your life?”

 

So my friends, when you feel the void, and your heart is pushing you to fill it with- whatever you think may fill it- be still and look up. Ask God to fill your void with His love, His direction for your life, His promise to give you hope and a future. God is the only thing that will fill your void and give you that wholeness you crave. Find peace in the fact we all feel it, we are not immune. But we now know the source of the void and that when it seems to ache us from the inside out, that it’s the reminder that we need to bow our heads and surrender the things we think will fill us up.

Life is Messy

            I’ve always been a Type-A personality; from a really young age, I felt a simple joy from seeing a room picked up, everything in its exact space, meant exactly for that specific item. It was always rejoiced as a child, something I felt proud of and knew was a strong quality. It carried me through my part-time job through high-school and college. I was nick-named scrubby bubbles because anytime I could; I was found cleaning a little nook or cranny of the restaurant. Then as I grew up in to an adult and had my first child, I cleaned houses for extra money. Even now, as a full-time Mom; I clean an office-building for extra cash. Cleaning house has quite literally been like second nature from a time I was young. So as you can imagine when I became the full-time stay at home mom that I am now, it was only natural to want to keep my home clean and in working order.

            

What’s all this talk about cleaning you may ask? Well as wonderful as this quality may seem, it’s caused me so much anxiety in this season of my life. With two little kids, a dog & a husband I can’t seem to keep something in the same spot for longer than a couple of minutes. It’s like a game, as I travel around the house picking items up off the floor, by the time I turn around, the vacuum lines are covered in toys, dog hair and a crushed up goldfish.

            I quickly learned that holding on to this joy of a clean home would have to become something of the past, at least for a little while, or I’d be chasing this joy around instead of actually feeling it.

            Lately at the end of a long day, there is nothing like sinking deep in to a tub of warm water and washing the days stress away. In my mind I picture a spotless house, the kids tucked in bed all clean and a mound of fresh bubbles to sink down in too. Yeah, no. Tonight I chuckled as I sat in the warm tub, our pool clothes thrown on the floor by the washing machine, my sons training potty still had pee in it from this morning and I realized I was out of adult soap so I used something with a frog on it.

            Life these days is nothing picturesque, as hard as I try, sitting in a tub washing myself with kid shampoo next to my sons pee is the reality, and the true work has become finding the joy exactly where I am.

            Even though I try and put a lot of effort in to keeping my house in order, I’ve learned the true goal has changed. It doesn’t have to be perfection, it doesn’t have to be a clean surface or the satisfying appearance of vacuum lines; it’s about the people who make the mess.

The pool clothes were from a day of splashing in the pool, watching my daughter swim without her swimmies and my son grin through his silly goggles. The pee sitting in the potty was a victory I’ve been praying for, my son to show interest and learn to use it. All of a sudden these little messes aren’t just messes, they represent a child who’s learning, exploring and enjoying their childhood.

I will probably always try to create a clean space, because lets be real, it’s ingrained in me. But I can finally release the need to find joy in it, because that’s not where joy comes from. Joy is found in the midst of the journey, the mess is the result of true joy!

This is a Wakeup Call

           It’s been a weird week over in our household. The week started like many others with Hallie getting ready for school. I slipped her school folder in her bag alongside her lunchbox and water bottle, slipped on my hard-sole slippers with my hair slung in a messy bun, coffee in hand, Cole in my other and we made our way to drop her off for a just a regular school day. Fast forward to today, now Saturday morning, things are looking a little different.

            

Hallie will not be going to school Monday morning; grocery stores are flooded with worried people buying out paper products, canned goods and personal ‘essentials.’ Everyone is being advised to stay inside and stay safe and protected from a virus that is spreading quickly. Many of us are scratching our heads wondering how this happened so quickly, I know I am.

            

On any given Saturday, many of us get up and grab coffee and breakfast at the diner, maybe make a quick pit stop over at the bank before they close at Noon and then we grumble that we have to go get groceries. I know I have. I grumble on a weekly basis about how I HAVE to go get food for my family and figure out what to make them all week. I literally COMPLAIN about having to do this.

            

This weekend our eyes are wide open and we are feeling the heat of the comforts of our usual day to day lives being stripped away from us and exposed. We are taking pictures and posting them, yelling at each other for panicking.  We are worried we won’t be able to have the pick of the foods we LIKE and the soft toilet paper that we PREFER. We are stressed that we have to become innovative and possibly make our baby wipes or disinfectant cleaners.  

             

Instead of recognizing that we are a blessed group of individuals that have the pick of so many things that bring us comfort every single day for years upon years, we are fighting with each other, panicking, worrying and hunkering down in fear.

            

This is a wakeup call, to humble ourselves and recognize what we have in this country and to not take it for granted. We need to be kind, innovative, and supportive, to stop the spread of fear and begin the spread of prayer.

             

We are a spoiled nation who gets angry when we don’t get our way and it needs to be recognized.  We don’t know the future, we won’t know what will happen next or how this virus will affect our communities, families or the way we live our ‘normal’ lives. But maybe as we feel the heat and discomfort of the effects of this virus on our nation, we need to pause and let that heat refine us and make us better and more thankful.

Six Years In the Making

            This entry is a special one. This blog has been with me for the last six years, processing so many different emotions as I maneuver my way through Motherhood. First, finding out I was pregnant at such a young age, barely out of high school. Getting married and learning that it isn’t just a fairy tale full of romantic feelings, it’s as real as commitment gets and you have to fight to maintain it. Then becoming a Mother of two; two actual souls that the Lord blessed me with and how serious that is in a world as broken as the one we reside in.

           

Now six years later, smack-dab in an exhausting season of parenthood, marriage and learning how to maintain a healthy lifestyle; I constantly feel overwhelmed. I keep thinking to myself that it shouldn’t be this hard, maybe getting caught up in the world’s lies that I deserve a life unscathed.

            

Today, due to a random series of events, I found myself sitting on the floor of the kid’s playroom. It was a good morning by measure of getting my workout done, a nice, hot shower and my hair blow dried, sipping on my shake while playing Lincoln logs with Cole. It was a picture perfect morning for me, and I’m thankful for it! Mornings lately around here haven’t been so picturesque. I got an idea in my head as I was sitting still with Cole, to pick up my stack of books and read through a few pages since I was already being still. Being “still” doesn’t happen very often for me, just ask my Apple Watch.

            

I was skimming through a chapter in my current read, Risen Motherhood by Emily Jensen and Laura Wifler. The chapter was talking about transitions and Motherhood and how challenging we know them to be. I got thinking about my life and how this blog has played a part in getting me through so many life transitions and how honestly, the last 6 years has been a whirlwind of transitions!  

Beginning at 18 getting pregnant then on to getting married;  to learning how to be a mother, then on to learning how to be good parents while simultaneously learning to be a wife. Then moving on to expanding our family to four and buying a house. It has been transition central in my life and that explains the constant need for big gulps of air.

The chapter in this book dropped some real truth bombs and finally after hearing these truths, I feel the Lord healing my wounds that I’ve had open since I was 18.

There are so many quiet moments where I wish for easier times, dreaming of a time I won’t be so spread thin, isolated and pressing for more energy. Then of course the added guilt I feel when I’m in the midst of a transition and I’m craving that next step that won’t feel so shaky. As Mother’s we think if we just keep pushing on and get to the next step, it’ll be easier. Then we get there and feel just as much exhaustion as the last step. We feel so guilty that we’re wishing our lives away. We’re wishing for our little ones to be older and easier, there is so much guilt.

            

God used this author’s words to shake me from my seat and remind me that my life’s goal isn’t to have easy days with nothing to cause me pain, heartache or exhaustion. My life’s goal is to move through my days with an open heart, drawing close to God, asking Him what purpose He has for this pain I’m feeling. Let me elaborate.

“When a goldsmith wants to purify gold, he heats it until the impurities are revealed so he can skim them off. Without the heat, the impurities stay embedded in the gold. Similarly, our circumstances turn up the heat until we see what’s in our hearts. It’s not that we used to be nice, energetic people, and now we’re suddenly irritable and unkind. Those changes simply expose the hidden sin that existed all along in the ease and familiarity of our circumstances.”

            

In my current season of constant sick kids, gloomy weather and long days full of responsibilities, I no longer need to feel like a victim of my circumstances or that life needs to hurry up and get easier. I can slow my breathing and hang on to the beautiful truth that the Lord is carving my heart to be exactly who He needs me to be for His kingdom. The trials I go through now are creating a better person tomorrow. It’s time to kick the lies behind me and stop letting Satan fib that my life would be “better” without all these tough transitions and seasons of difficulty.

I can arise tomorrow no longer wishing my life away and have hope that God has purposes for today and sure promise for our final destination.

Resisting Rest

            I’m sitting with you in my kitchen, the heat vent by my feet hasn’t stopped since I’ve been sitting here, and it’s a cold, frosty morning in January. The window above my kitchen sink is just a hue of white as the snow falls quickly. I don’t mind mornings like this, with a hot cup of steaming coffee and my house hunkered down in a blanket of white. I picture a small Christmas village with the little house sitting in a white field, standing out with its glowing, lighted windows and how it just looks warm.

            

As wonderful and picturesque as this season can be, it also is the same season that brings coughs, fevers and a whole slew of things our kids can pick up. Our house has been full of sickness for a few months now, every time we seem to be on the mend, someone else comes down with the next virus. My littlest gets chronic ear infections, we’ve had surgery, seen specialists and he still can’t seem to get a cold without the ear infection right behind. My daughter has an autoimmune disorder and when she gets a virus, it can hang on for weeks. To say I’ve felt defeated and consumed by all this sickness (and worry) has been an understatement. My husband reminded me in a light hearted chuckle, “This is Parenthood, babe.”

            

This morning as I cracked open my devotional; I was so taken back with the entry that seemed to speak so clearly to my weary, frustrated heart.

            

So often we feel frantic, unsure at what to do or how to handle something. We allow our minds to spin, we plan out 15 steps ahead (like we can even know the future!!) or we stress over all the details. What an exhausting cycle…

Matthew 11:28 says; “Come to Me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest.”

He’s not saying we will have a special nap and be all better. He’s telling us to stop our vicious cycle and ask Him for help & direction.

STOP running yourself ragged. Be still and then take the next step. NOT the next 10. Not the whole path; Just the next step. So much can be learned in that space, if we just slowed down to see what was there and to hear what God has to say. “Where our strength ends is where His will begins.”

           

I’m starting to find peace in the idea that even in those lonely, frustrating moments of Motherhood, when we’re desperately seeking relief for our kids and mourning the loss of our ‘regular’ daily lives, the Lord is molding us for the future. He’s asking us, “Do you trust me?” He’s giving us stamina for our futures. He’s molding our hearts to slow down and know that HE IS GOD and worrying doesn’t do anybody any good.

            

It’s only January, and as the snow falls out my window and the idea of more sickness looms in my future, I have to stop thinking 15 steps ahead and focus on what’s here in my day, right now- and with that find rest.