Working It Out

Today was not a good day. The kids were tired, I was exhausted. There was whining and crying and irritation and yelling and patience was absence and good manners had fled. We were left with the worst versions of ourselves and it showed in all that we did.

It was the typical ups and downs any of us would have in a given day no matter what we do. But for me, it just felt weightier. This job I do, it isn’t for someone else to profit from of which I get a small cut, it is for me, for our family, for our future, but most of all for them – these wonderful little people. And at times, I just don’t take it as seriously as I should. I become cold and unloving. I don’t hug or pick them up or read to them like I should. I focus on the tasks too much and the mothering too little and movies play too long and I start to realize that we are living only a shell of the life we should be living. It is overwhelming to consider the impact of repeating this kind of a day over and over and over.

Thank God in his infinite wisdom that he gave us night to rest and a new day to start again. So I’m looking at tomorrow in anticipation. There are no places to go, no deadlines to meet, no strict expectations except a day to be home and interact and learn and love and hug and be the best versions of who we were meant to be. I’m hoping that I can learn tomorrow what I want to live out in the days to come. Days that are quiet and purposeful and more than I could ever expect them to be. I’m working it out and God convicts me, but He is also gracious.

But for now, I bid you good night.

Not Home

This post is dedicated to my brother-in-law and his family. Your pain is unthinkable and I am praying for your comfort and peace.

Fall in Michigan is one of the most beautiful times of the year. The best way to see the fall colors to me is to take a drive. I had the opportunity to take a long drive a few days ago and the color and bright sunlight truly made everything I saw the picture of fall splendor. Reds, oranges, and yellows illuminated by the more than usual orangey / yellow sunlight – beautiful, bright colors everywhere I could see.

I couldn’t help but thinking on that drive that everything was right in the world and these beautiful colors and sunny day were a gift from God to me and everyone else. But I couldn’t fully enjoy it as I thought about close relatives and friends going through unthinkable tragedy and loss. To add to the discomfort I learned the next day about a young woman (21 years old) who works with orphans in Uganda who has personally adopted 13 girls. I think of friends and relatives and acquaintances who are dealing with the mental or physical disorders that plague their children and I am overcome with grief. I am reminded that this world with its glimpses of beauty all around is also home to pain, suffering, agony, and injustice and I can’t shake it off fully to enjoy what God made good in creation.

This is not our home. Yet, it is the only home we have ever known and we really think that we are comfortable here, until we are reminded of all that is not right. God whispering in our ears, showing us that we must love and help others, reminding us that even if it doesn’t make sense, that his plan is better than ours.

So, I’m thinking of those hurting today and wishing I could explain away the pain or offer words of comfort or say that somehow it will be OK, but the truth is, that some things won’t ever be OK. Our time here is so short and eternity is so long and if we don’t do whatever is insanely possible to bring everyone we can with us to the home they were meant to go to, then what are we doing that really counts?

I look at my life and how comfortable I am and yet I sense the discomfort creeping up around me. I don’t know how to be dangerous for God and maybe he isn’t asking for me to get on a plane and fly far away to make a difference, but I realize as each day passes, that I must find a way. I have to find a way.

Maybe I already make a difference, but I don’t see how and I just pray that God reveals to me that I can and do impact his kingdom, even from my little corner. And if I am not, please show me God how to reach out and do the work you have asked me to do. Because I am not home and as the days go by I realize that I need to learn more about my real home, about where I’m looking to go, because sometimes the pain here is too much to bear.

Thoughtful Tuesday 10/4/11

Every Tuesday I try to put something out here to get us all thinking about different ways to approach this life. Let’s think countercultural, against the norm, “weird”, unpopular, but most of all thought provoking.

I’ve been very conscious about how it seems that my words don’t match my actions these days. I have the incredible gift of being home with my children every day. I tell them I love them, but it seems that my actions, at times, tell a different story. How do I get past this? What can I do to turn it all around?

How do you demonstrate that you love the people around you in everything that you do?

90 Days

Like many of you, I’ve had my share of jobs in different industries, with different schedules, and with a myriad of different expectations placed on me. But one thing each job had in common was the infamous “90 day probationary period”. That critical time where the company is supposedly watching you to ensure that you are worth keeping for the long haul.

Here I am now at home; formulating my own job, schedule, rules, and expectations and that 90 days is looming on the horizon. I can’t help but asking myself, what have I learned during this time and am I doing this job well?

 I have learned that:

• A young toddler on the potty is not likely to stay on the potty, and neither is what comes out of the young toddler.
• An older toddler that is potty training will repeatedly have accidents even when he is given the “rules” for what to do.
• Toddlers who like to climb and open doors are likely to fall and/or escape.
• The smiles and laughs of my children are the most beautiful sights and sounds I can and will experience in a day.
• It’s the little moments of focused attention with each one of them that keeps them happy and content through the day.
• Coffee with my kids is fun and insightful. (And don’t worry, not too caffeinated.)
• If I demand respect in a loving way from my oldest, she gives it politely.
• Trusting the kids to go outside on their own builds my trust in them and gives them independence they need to succeed in life.
• Anything that can go wrong in the kitchen will. (But it has always been that way with me anyway.)
• Dishes will always be dirty, laundry will always need to be folded, and there will always be crumbs and hair where there should not be. But I will not always have this moment to hug and kiss and dance with my babes.
• Each day is a gift and no matter how simple must be treasured and purposeful.
• I need to be thankful for each moment as they are slipping between my fingers like sand.

I’m not sure if I were to be rated by an outside, unbiased source if I would fare too well for this 90 day period – I yell too much and I get angry over silly things, but I always apologize and forgive and seek to be forgiven.

These 90 days have been a wonderful gift – something I will treasure in my heart in the days ahead as the seasons change and new adventures in mommyhood unfold.

The Block

So you may have noticed that I haven’t been around for awhile. I wish I had a good reason to explain why, but I just don’t. I think that the best explanation has to be writer’s block…but more accurately - fear.

I’ve been avoiding my little corner of cyberspace using stale, old excuses: too tired, don’t know when to fit it in, don’t know what to say. But the truth of the matter is that I’m hiding behind this wall, feeling like I can’t reach back through it…doubting my ability to write anymore.

You see, leaving my job was a huge step for me and I truly believe the right thing to do. However, the circumstances that lead up to it still have me doubting myself in many areas and I just can’t quite shake it all. I’ve been praying and writing down ideas for what to say out here, but my doubts and insecurities keep trash talking to my I-just-went-through-a-major-life-change mind.

So maybe it was writer’s block, but maybe not; but the point I’m trying to make right here is that I have more to say and I’m figuring out how to say it all and I hope that you still want to read and I appreciate your grace and your patience. So, I’ll say this quietly, I’m baaaacckkkk.

I’ve Been Waiting



This morning I woke up to the sound of birds chirping and the sound of a sweet baby voice saying, “Mama, mama?” The air was just cool enough, the birds chattering and singing their morning songs. I’ve been waiting for a morning like this – waiting for one that reminds me of why I’m here, what is important. The weeks of living in the constant hum of the air conditioning – with its artificial air, chilling temps, and muffled barrier between me and the real world has taken its toll. (Don’t get me wrong, air conditioning is a wonderful gift that I’m very thankful for – it has just run too long.) It has gotten to the point that I’m looking forward to fall just so we can have the windows open.


There is something about hearing the night sounds – crickets and the scurry of bugs and little animals, seeing the moon shining into an open window, smelling night fall and then waking up to the earth starting over again, birds singing, the smell of the dew, the sun streaming through an open window – the cool air floating into the house. The smell of morning – distinct from its nightly counterpart.


Here is where I am at peace – here is where a new day with mercies new begins and don’t I need it – don’t we all? I’m grateful that God in his wisdom made night for us to sleep – because wouldn’t we be in a bigger mess if He had not?


So today I’m listening to the chirps and the morning dove “who’s” and letting the sun shine on my face and shivering a bit in the damp, morning air, listening to the gentle melodic sound of the wind chimes and taking it all in. Breathing new life and a fresh start. Won’t you join me outside this morning?

100 Years


Today we celebrated our Great Aunt’s 100th birthday. I’ve never known or met anyone who is 100 years old. The party was very nice – a lunch where about 175 family members and friends gathered to eat lunch and celebrate this great lady’s life. Her daughter put together a book with her story including pictures, fun facts and great stories about the unique and wonderful person that she is. I read through the book – I’m a sucker for history – but even more – the personal history of a family member that I know mostly by reputation.

This wonderful woman graduated from high school at age 76 and went white water rafting in her 80’s. When her husband died 30 years ago, she bought a new lawn mower since she knew she would be keeping up the lawn going forward. She loves parties and traveling. How great is that?

Reading through this book and looking at all the pictures and just being there – seeing all of the smiling faces celebrating her life – it got me thinking – what is the story of my life? What will people write about me when I am advanced in years? What will be the unique things about me – my impression, the person I am, the thing that makes my reputation precede me?

So much has changed for me in the last month and I finally feel like what I’m doing everyday has eternal significance – I’m taking care of my children and our household – concentrating on being there – my whole person – in this place at this time. I’ve never been interested in what was culturally popular or interesting or notable and being in this position runs counter to what the world says is interesting. So the big question is, what will my children write as the story of my life? What will stand out to them?

I hope that they write about how much I love them about how I could be wacky and fun sometimes, how I would do anything for them, how I broke the rules sometime just to mix it up a bit. I hope most of all that they see Jesus through me. I will never be perfect, but I hope they feel God’s love through me and find a way to carry that with them through their days.

The book of your days – it is being written right now – what do you want to say?