to see something grand

"splendor and majesty are before Him; strength and beauty fill His sanctuary." ~ psalm 96:6

when i was 12 my parents decided it was high time for our family to go gaze at the grand canyon.

we lived in cleveland, ohio, and since money wasn’t growing on trees in our yard, the plan was, we would use our christmas break and we would drive --- from cleveland to the grand canyon. 2000 miles across the country. and because it wasn’t exciting enough for six of us to travel all those miles together in one van, my grandparents were invited to join our expedition.

1 van. 8 people. 2000 miles.

now in order for you to get the full picture, it's important to also explain our seating issues. though my dad's van was great for his painting business, it was a little lacking for his passengers. you see, the van only had two seats: driver and front passenger. but dad, being the ever-resourceful guy that he is, figured out a way to attach two aluminum lawn chairs inside the van for grandma and grandpa's seating pleasure. the children?  well, we, in  typical 1970-something fashion, were left to roll around like a quartet of paint cans in the empty shell of the van's back.

and so on a snowy, december day, our gray van holding 8 people, all their luggage, and a whole bunch of high expectations, left ohio and headed for sunny arizona.  and it was good for a little while.  we didn’t have iphones or ipads or itouches or i-anythings, but somehow we survived. somehow in the back of that van, my siblings and i kept ourselves occupied for several days.  i'm not certain what exactly my brother and sisters did,  but i read through every nancy drew mystery i had been able to stuff into my suitcase. in fact, i remember reading the last one slowly, afraid i'd have to make the return trip home without the escape of my reading material.

i'm sure we also did our share of antagonizing my parents with comments like, "i'm hungry" and "she's touching me" and "when are we going to be there?" i don't exactly remember my dad threatening to pull over and spank any of us, but i'm pretty certain that scenario must have occurred. in fact, i'm positive.

one of the most vivid memories from that journey is my grandmother. you see, every time we’d go around a little bend or curve in the road, grandma and grandpa, in their aluminum chairs, would sway slightly left or slightly right. for grandma this was on par with riding a roller coaster and she reacted in like fashion giving a big "whoo-hoo!" though grandma might have enjoyed her theme park experience in  the back of our van, i'm sure she and grandpa were doubting their decision to tag along by the time we crossed into kentucky.

add to grandmother's whoo-hoos, my own mother's, "would you look at THAT, kids!" and the memory is pretty much complete. though i get it now, i didn't understand her enthusiasm back then. every 10 minutes or so, my excited mom would yell out, “look kids, look. would you just look at THAT!” and we’d all clamor out from the depths of the van only to just miss that amazing wildflower display roadside or a piece of texas tumbleweed rolling down the highway.

and this went on hour after hour, day after day, and somewhere around oklahoma, i remember saying to my almost-teenage self .... "how in the world did i get here?”

........

that was 33 years ago.

this past week, my husband and i took our own kids to go gaze at the grand canyon. we too, thought it "high time" for this adventure.

assuredly, our travel looked a little different. we all had, not only seats on our 747, but also a variety of apple products in hand to occupy us for our 2 and 1/2 hour flight. gone were the aluminum lawn chairs, gone were the nancy drew mysteries, gone were the long hours of a long road trip.

and though travel and time and even i have changed, i found myself asking that same question: "how in the world did i get here?"

except this time it wasn't about the circumstances of my travel, but it was me watching my kids gaze into the canyon with mouths open and eyes wide in disbelief. this time it wasn't me escaping into my mystery book, but me enjoying my kids take in the mystery and grandeur and wonder of this great canyon.

for as i thrilled as i was to see the grand canyon again, i was even more thrilled as a mother to witness my kids seeing it for their first time.

and though i am happy our travel didn't require lawn chairs or long hours, i am thankful, even now, for that experience my parents gave us 30 some years ago.

regardless of how we travel, regardless of the time, regardless of the trip, it is always a gift to go see something grand and to experience some adventure.

can't pass up an opportunity to have a little extra fun ...

we used sedona as our home base. loved sedona and the red rock!

emily, getting her sedona on.

we celebrated sarah's 14th birthday with a surprise helicopter ride! wow. just wow.

my trio of photographers! we've all got the photography bug.

3 sisters

the adventurers! what a tribe.

ATV-ing in the desert

climbing camelback mountain -- to the tip top!

mountain climber connor

back to phoenix for a little RandR after all that adventure.

lazy river. lazy mama!

made a shutterfly book on the way home ... they sent the link to my blog.  slightly obsessed over here with shutterfly books!

Click here to view this photo book larger

Create your own custom photo books at Shutterfly.com.

When The Mommy Is Just Not Enough

I'm not sure if it was the 5th child or the cancer diagnosis or when someone missed diagnosing my [obvious] case of the crazies. Maybe it was some combination of all those life-altering events, but somewhere in those years, it became clear, I was no longer a contender for super-mom.

It was time to turn in the cape.

Somewhere in those moments of forgetfulness, helplessness and overwhelmed-ness I found out that I was never going to be enough.

I was never going to be the perfect mother or the ideal wife.

I was never going to achieve, accomplish or be awarded any kind of mother-of-the-year medal.

But, the truth is, for many years, I pretended otherwise.

For many years, I faithfully clipped articles from parenting magazines and stayed up late attempting cute crafts and yummy baked things from the pages of Family Fun (I am beyond thankful that Pintrest wasn't a thing yet). For many years I refused to let the sun go down with dirty dishes in the sink or with laundry left on the floor. For many years I meal-planned and color-coded my schedule, wrote detailed lists and even remembered to buy only organic apples.

For many years I thought if I just worked a little bit harder, stayed up a little bit later, organized a little bit better, walked a little bit faster ... I'd find myself a little bit closer to being enough.

Thankfully--mercifully--just in the nick of time, God released me from that kind of crazy. Like I said, I'm not sure exactly when that epiphany occurred ... but somewhere in those years I realized it just wasn't going to happen. And what's more --- It shouldn't happen.

It wasn't the right goal. 

It was never how God intended me (or any mother) to be.

Motherhood isn't supposed to be a race to the finish line.
Motherhood isn't a competition in who's the most prepared or punctual or perfect.
Motherhood isn't a test of creativity or craftiness or cute clothes.
Motherhood isn't even about keeping a clean house or incredibly clean kids.

Motherhood is a journey.
It's a painstaking, heart-wrenching, spirit-filling, joy-bringing  p r o c e s s.

And good mothering isn't what happens when we are trying to be the greatest mom out there, but when we are just being a good mom right here.

In the almost 20 years I've been parenting, I've made more mistakes than I'd ever have imagined possible. Seriously, I could blush at some of my blunders.
I've messed up and screwed up and even thrown up my hands in defeat. I've cried over spilled milk and stubbed toes and moldy laundry. I've stepped in baby poop, been smeared with peanut butter and left the house without my wallet, my shoes -- and even once -- forgot the baby. (Don't worry, the older kids reminded me before we had turned out of our street. It can happen, people. Please don't judge).

There have been many moments where I've been just flat out thankful no one was watching or grading or taking detailed notes. The marks wouldn't have been pretty and the notes certainly not nice.

I can remember a few years ago wrestling this out with God. It was the summer after we adopted Bella. The same summer I was recovering from breast cancer and a double mastectomy. Nothing like gaining a kid and losing your strength--not to mention body parts--to make you wonder just what lesson God is teaching.

It was one of those sweltering summer nights in Georgia. I was out on our deck and feeling like I had just spent my whole day dropping balls and letting everyone down in my house. So, sitting there steaming in my frustration and the crazy Georgia heat, I just flat out told Him, "Guess what God: I'm not enough!"

And though it wasn't exactly an audible voice, God whispered clearly right back to me ---
"You're right, Jody, you're not enough ... and you're not even supposed to be. But I am."

Again, not a voice, but clear as day. That was the moment He began to release me from some kind of weird self-imposed, inner idealism and was giving me full permission to build a bonfire and burn up all of the Family Fun magazines I had been saving for a rainy day.

That night I walked back into the house, hugged my kids and husband goodnight, left a sink full of dirty dishes and went directly to bed. And it was the beginning of my new walk. I was giving up my mommy-frenzy for my new found mommy-freedom.

Please don't misread what I'm saying: God wasn't giving me a license to be negligent, reckless, careless or lazy with my kids, but he was teaching me the lesson to be more lenient with myself.  Because somewhere I had gotten off track in thinking that my kids had to be my whole world and I had to be there's.

Does this sound familiar? 

Somewhere in the early years of parenting, I did what many mothers do, I wrapped my identity and my ego around them and tightly tied a big old (pretty) bow.

Let's face it, that's easy to do.
It's an amazing gift to be called mama.
It's like my favorite job ever!
But between the hormones and the housework, we women can get a little cra-cra about our "calling."

I always wanted to be a mother.

Though I carried a triple major in college, I knew even then, as much as I loved all that stuff and all those studies, I wanted nothing more than to be a plain, old mom. I never saw it as second best. I never once considered it anything less than the highest calling possible in a woman's life. And even on the hardest of days, I knew I was doing exactly what I was made for.

I've never had a moment of doubt.

I didn't doubt my calling, but I did doubt myself and my abilities and my strength and my being "enough."

Ultimately, that doubt was a good thing in my life.

Because when I brought my burden to that place of brokenness, God met me there and assured me in the sweltering heat on my nighttime deck and many, many times since, I didn't need to be enough, because He was. Because He is.

That was His job. My job is to point my kids to His sufficiency, not my own.

In fact, if I am always working my tail off trying to be all that (and a bag of chips) for my kids, then I am actually working against what God wants to do and demonstrate in their lives. Moms aren't ever supposed to compete with God. Our accomplishments aren't ever supposed to rival God's awesomeness. 

John 3: 30 says,"He must increase, but I must decrease." 
Have you ever thought about how those words might apply to mothers?

As moms, we spend so much energy trying to be MORE ... and yet God is telling us there's actually great blessing found in being LESS.

We aren't training up our kids to always assume "Mom's got this!"
But instead, we need to teach them to see how "God's got this!"

That was a few years ago, but the truth is, I still struggle. Those same urges and desires come bubbling up in my competitive and creative nature. I still find myself striving and stretching and spinning my way around ... trying to do it all. Juggle it all. Be it all.

I'm not completely healed from the super-mom syndrome, but I am more aware of it.

And God, in His graciousness, often brings me reminders along the way.

Like last weekend.

My middle child, Sarah, had a volleyball tournament and she had to be up at the crack of dawn on Saturday morning. Friday night she was out late and when she came in I was already in bed. half asleep, I asked her if she had everything ready for the morning. (volleyball bag, uniform, knee pads, spandex, socks, shoes, water bottle, blah,blah,blah ....)

"I don't mom, but I will," she answered.
and with that, I fell asleep. I didn't get up and follow her down the hall or chase her around with reminders. I just fell asleep. I had my own good case of Friday night exhaustion.

I didn't hunt down her uniform or lay out her socks or pack up her healthy snacks. I just went to bed.

We were up the next morning at 6am. Before leaving the house I ran up to her room to grab something and found this list on her desk.  the night before she had created a checklist. complete with little boxes and check marks.

I stood there looking at this little piece of paper and my eyes welled with tears when I realized what I was seeing was evidence of mom isn't enough. Not just evidence, but the blessing which moves in when I, the mother, move out a bit. When I let go of the list. When I loosen the reigns. When I leave room for her to step in, to step up.

And women, wherever you are in your motherhood journey, today I am writing to encourage you to let go a little. It's okay. I know it's not always easy, but it's what we are supposed to do. 

Let them forget something.

Let them fail a little. 

Let them face a struggle or two. 

Let them, in fact, get caught or get in trouble.

I know that's hard when we can clearly circumvent some kind of kid-crisis. And, I'm sure, sometimes we should make a decision to do so. But sometimes we've got to be wiling to put away our super-mom cape and let them figure it out for themselves.

Again, this has nothing to do with shirking our responsibilities or taking the easy way out. Not at all. We are instructed to work "heartily for the Lord," and encouraged to "approve what is excellent."  But I don't believe when Jesus asked us to "think on things which are excellent or worthy of praise" He was necessarily talking about making 4 dozen cute little frog cupcakes or making sure our kids are always organized, orderly and well-outfitted.

Not that there's anything wrong with being a creative or prepared mom. There are definitely times to go the extra mile or deliver the extra special. God wired some of that right into us. I am not discouraging you from your passion in serving and blessing your family, but I am encouraging you to keep it realistic and to know that what counts most is not the praise for the woman and her healthy, homemade meal, but the home-loved child who learns to seek God's heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

don't give up on me, mama ...

i was standing in line at the grocery store when i heard the exchange.
seems to me, that happens a lot.
probably ...
#1 because i am waiting and still and, therefore, listening.
#2 because i am in the grocery store way too much.

but that's where it happened.

i was in line behind a woman and her young son when the cashier -- a kindly, older lady -- brought out a lollipop for the little boy. a lollipop which he gladly and quickly accepted. in fact, he swiped that sucker right out of her hand and jammed it right into his ready mouth without missing a beat and, sadly, without one word of thanks.

i assure you, the boy was old enough to say, "thank you."

the mother, looking a tad bit embarrassed -- but not too surprised -- encouraged her son to use his manners. "say, thank you, evan." but evan refused. and instead continued to chomp loudly on his lollipop, all the while completely ignoring both mother and cashier. stubbornly. willfully.

i wasn't judging. really i wasn't. i've been that mother. i felt for her.
but what happened next is the thing which most captured my attention; caught hold of my heart.

glancing from the cashier to me, the mother exclaimed,"well, i give up. i've tried to teach him his manners. it just isn't working. i'm done. i give up!"

"i give up!" --- really?
the boy was about five. seemed to me there were a lot of years ahead for this kid and his mama.

in my mind, it might be just a tiny bit early to throw in the towel.

it took everything in me to keep from following the woman out to her car and pleading with her not to give up. i wanted to urge her instead to go ahead and remove that lollipop from her son's mouth and march all three feet of him back in to offer his thanks. i wanted to tell her to take a stand, to be firm, to refuse to accept anything less from this little boy than what she knew in her heart was right behavior.

i know ... can. you. even. imagine? she'd of been dialing 9-1-1 on me before i finished my first sentence.

you'll be glad to know, i refrained. but walking to my own car with groceries in hand ... i felt her heaviness.

i didn't want to criticize her, i wanted to encourage her.
i wanted to to let her know, we all feel like that as mamas.
we wonder if we're making any progress.
we wonder if anything we say is sinking in.
we doubt somedays they're even listening.

but don't give up.
don't ever give up.

don't ever be afraid to take the lollipop or the whatever away and stand your ground.

not when they're 5, and not when they're 15.

oh, mama of the rude boy or the rebellious girl or the resistant daughter or the restless son ... don't give up. don't ever give up.

there's time. and there's always hope.

God didn't give up on us. not when we were rude or ruined or running fast away. and yes, we've all been exactly that. let's learn our parenting-perseverance from the most patient Father. the perfect Father who perfectly loves His imperfect people -- His children.

"but God demonstrates His own love for us in this: while we were still sinners, Christ died for us."  ~ romans 5:8

did you catch that phrase? while we were still sinners ... sinners. yep, you and me. not perfectly behaved little children with perfectly polished manners, but imperfect little sinners.
that's us. and that's our kids and that's this world we live in right now.

and yet ... we have this amazing God ... who, though had every right to throw up His hands and declare, "i give up!" He didn't. He stuck with us. He sticks with us. and, what's more, He even sent His Son to die for us.

while.we.were.yet.sinners.

oh, sweet mama who is feeling like she'll never see the fruit of her labor ...
oh, dear mother who is feeling like she's tried every trick in the book ...
oh, tired woman who isn't sure what else to do or where else to turn ...

this post today is for you.

i know you might be close to throwing your hands in the air or turning your back on the child or walking away from the battle ...

i know. because i've been there.

and though i didn't do anything to encourage that woman in the grocery store ... i want to encourage you ---

don't give up.
don't ever give up.

there's time. there's hope. there's Jesus.

"and let us not grow weary of doing good, for in due season we will reap, 
if we do not give up." ~ galatians 6:9

"more of" ... a 31 day challenge for parents

so, i'm curious ... what is one thing you could do more of for your children?

let me first tell you what i think your answer isn't going to be ...

it isn't going to be...
   more laundry.
   more meals.
   more money.
   more treats.
   more driving.
   more privilege.
   more movies.
   more trips to the mall.

am i right?

i'm pretty sure none of you were tempted to go down one of those paths. for the most part, we already do an awful lot for our kids. we give them an awful lot -- perhaps, at times, even too much.

no, i'm not sure my kids need more of anything at the moment ... i mean clean laundry and healthy meals are good things, but if i had to be selective, i can't say i'd put them at the very top of my list.

now, i'm not assuming we all think exactly alike, but i have a hunch that a few of you might have answered you would like to pray more for your children ... maybe even pray more with your children.

so maybe it was just a few of you or maybe it was most of you ... regardless, i bet some of you do want to pray more.

funny! because lately, that's been on my heart too! (so glad we're talking here today).

perhaps it's because i have five of them, and somedays praying for (or with) five kids takes an awful long time -- we have a boatload of issues and needs to address in our household ... but, truly, i think it's mostly just a parenthood thing. doesn't really matter if you have two children or twenty, you probably would like to be better about bringing them before God's throne. because regardless of the number of children in your home, they all pretty much need to be prayed for. now, if you do happen to have 20 children shuffling around under your roof and calling you mom, please let me know, and sister i will add YOU to my prayer list for sure!

so, i have an idea:  (that phrase always worries my children) how about we do that! how about we join together and pray for our kids?

we are about to flip the calendar to a brand new month -- october! (my personal favorite). what if we all virtually come together, bow our heads, kneel before Him and cover our kids in prayer.

what if we even call it something special like a 31 day prayer challenge?

what if we make a commitment and even put our name on it? i don't want to stress you out, but maybe we even write it down! make it real ... draw our line in the dirt ... stake Christ's claim on our kids.

what if?

now before you slam your laptop shut and run away shrieking ...  just think about it.

consider joining with me this month and committing to a focused 31 days of prayer for our kiddos. i know commitment is hard. i get it. lately, i have a hard time committing myself to a one-a-day vitamin. i understand. but it really won't be between you and me ... it's between you and God. and it's for your kids ... and what's more, it works!

i mean, i don't know about you, but i could use a little revival in my house this month. i've got some kids (and they've got a mother) who need a little bit of prayer intervention. you know what i'm saying?  i'm hearing the grumbling, i'm watching the resistance, i'm aware of the attitude and i'm sensing the self-centeredness ... and i'm talking about me as much as i'm talking about them.

bottom line: i'm looking for God to do a holy work in this home. and i wouldn't mind some company if your'e willing to come along. whether you have a three year old or a 43 year old, i bet you still want to pray for your child.

i'll say it again, i am looking for God to do a holy work in this home. and after 17 years of parenting, i am more convinced than ever it doesn't begin with me and my mother-power, it begins with prayer and God's power.

many years ago, i read stormie omartian's book, the power of a praying parent. it's definitely up in the top of five of my must-reads for parenthood. half my book is underlined from my time spent in its pages. this gal may have a crazy kind of name, but, believe me, she's got some really good stuff to share ... she writes:

I believe that being a parent is becoming more and more difficult each year because of what our children are exposed to and bombarded with everywhere they turn. But we don't have to be worried sick, dreading what is around the corner, or fearing the worst. We don't have to be tossed to and fro by every new stage and age and trend and fad. We have the power to make a big difference in our children's lives through prayer. That doesn't mean we abdicate our responsibilities as parents. It means we partner with God to raise our children as we pray for every aspect of their lives.

Praying for our children doesn't mean that nothing will ever go wrong in their lives. But when it does, we don't have to beat ourselves up for not being perfect parents. Besides, it's not being a perfect parent that makes the difference in a child's life, for there are no perfect parents. It's being a praying parent that makes a big difference. And that's something we can all be."

so, would you join me?

i know somedays we are all so busy "doing" for our kids, we forget to stop and pray for them. if you asked me which is more important, i would surely answer you: prayer! but, even knowing (and believing) that text book answer, doesn't mean i am good at it.

i kneel every day to empty the washing machine or to tie a shoelace or scratch something sticky off my kitchen floor but do i truly remember to kneel every day on behalf of my children?

is it more important for them to be covered in clean clothes or to be covered in holy prayer? we all know the answer ... but somedays it's hard to put down the chores and rise up to the challenge. it's as choice. but i know how it works (at least in my home):   somedays we choose to handle it ourselves instead of handing it over to Him.

my plan is simple ...

each day i will post a PRAYER WORD on my even the sparrow facebook page  (please join me there if you haven't already). i will post one word and a scripture verse to go along with it. i'm sure that word might mean something different for each of you ... or even for each of your children. it's just a prompt. that's all. i am not promising anything here except a simple and committed prompt to pray ... God takes care of the rest. that's His department, not mine. (a-men)!

i'd love to hear from you. leave a comment. leave your favorite verse on prayer. let me know how it's going ... or just leave your name and a smiley face or a cute emoji and i'll pray for you as you pray for your kids. and feel free to pass this along to a friend or two.  let's see what happens in this harvest month of october when we choose daily to pray MORE.

"devote yourselves to prayer, being watchful and thankful.” ~ colossians 4:2

october prayer topics for our kids ....  heart * gratitude * character * gentleness *   peace * self-control * friendships * dreams *  health * generosity * patience * attitude * purity * confidence * boldness *  wisdom * unity * perseverance * joy * righteousness * future *  compassion * truth * willingness * humility *  love * prayer * passion * rest * contentment *  excellence

"and this is the confidence that we have toward Him, 

that if we ask anything according to His will He hears us.

 ~ 1 john 5:14 

again, here's the link to my facebook page where i'll be posting daily prayer prompts in this month of october. join me there or click on the following link which will also be updated daily with the prompts from my blog. 

https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jody-McNatt-even-the-sparrow/182617438580535

OR you can check out THIS POST which i'll update each day with new prayer prompts here on the blog! 

as my 5 year old likes to say, "easy-peasy-lemon-squeezy!"

the day i cried in my closet (some thoughts from a stay-at-home-mom)

i taught my last english class 16 years ago. i loved teaching high school. in fact, i was one of those strange people who actually loved teaching high schoolers.

yes. yes, really.

but after our second born, tyler, hit the scene, the chance came for me to stay home full time.
and i did.

and i have never regretted that decision. not once.

not even on those days when the baby was crying and the toddlers were clinging and the dog was, at that very moment, Lord have mercy, stealing my lunch right off the kitchen counter.

i never regretted staying home, but it wasn't always easy -- especially when the children were really young. there were days. oh, let me tell you friend ... there.were.days.

though much of it remains a blur, i do remember in those early years hitting the wall a time or two (or twenty ...).  one day in particular stands out in my motherhood memory. it was just after our third child, sarah, was born. i was in that supremely idyllic season of breast feeding the newborn, potty training the toddler and trying to keep the mischievous first born alive in the midst of incessant blouse unbuttoning, training pants removing and diaper changing.

you get the picture, right?

i hadn't lost the baby weight, i hadn't figured out how to successfully operate three children on limited sleep, and i hadn't had a chance to shower much that week. it's easy to see some traces of desperation around the edges when you add into the equation that i had zero family in town and a husband often on business out of town. on this particular day, it seemed like child number three wasn't going to ever get the hang of this nursing thing, child number two wasn't going to ever stop wetting his pants and child number one, i was convinced, was going to grow up with serious issues of neglect because i was constantly attending to her two needy, younger siblings.

and then there was that dog ... i swear, always eating my lunch off the gosh-darn-counter!

one morning, after snapping wildly at my firstborn (because she didn't understand why i couldn't add finger painting to the afternoon agenda) i climbed into my closet, and with a defeated spirit, a couple of leaky breasts and a big ole flabby stomach, i laid full on the floor and cried my eyes out.

i cried and i cried and i cried.

but i knew in the back of my mind in the back of that closet that even my pathetic breakdown had to be tightly scheduled. the baby was napping, the toddlers camped out in front of a cartoon, and both, said nap and cartoon, were bound to come to an abrupt end any second. i had only a few minutes to spare on some uncontrollable sobbing and my gargantuan self pity before i would have to cowboy up and return to my stay-at-home-mom status.

i would have to go back down those stairs.

as i heaved my tired-mama-body off the floor, i found myself standing in the middle of my "teaching clothes" section of the closet. i am not sure why i still had these outfits, but i did. just in case, i guess -- tucked away in plastic, way in the back, hidden behind my elastic waisted maternity pants and loose fitting dresses. so there i was -- a red-faced, runny-nosed, out of shape stay-at-home mom staring at my size two suits and my cleaned and pressed professional blouses. there i was staring into the face of my former life.

yep, you know it  -- i started to cry all over again.

there was no way my body was ever going to fit back into those suits. and if i did somehow manage to squeeze myself into one, i was certain it would be covered with breast milk, peanut butter and finger paint in about five minutes flat. right?

i felt like such a mess.

i felt like such a mess up.

even on a bad day of teaching school, i still had on cute shoes and a reasonably nice outfit.

but on this bad day of motherhood, i was slightly overweight, barefoot, leaky and hiding out in my closet. (that, by the way, is the other version of "barefoot, pregnant and in the kitchen...").

at that moment of feeling like the world's worst mother and a completely lost-cause-kind-of-woman, i remembered (or God reminded me): i had chosen this.

this. this stay at home and stay in the kitchen and stay with the kids and stay by the potty and stay nursing on the couch and stay in my maternity clothes and stay always within an arm's reach ... this.

this is where i chose to stay.
this is where God was allowing me to stay.
this is where God wanted me to stay.

this is where i wanted me to stay.

but there were some days when this just wasn't easy and i needed to be reminded not of my former life and my size two suits, but of my choice.

and of my promise.

years ago, when we decided i would stay home with the kids, i made not only a decision, but i also made a promise. i made a vow that i would be grateful. i would not waste it. i would not take it for granted. i would not live as woman who deserved it, expected it or was entitled to it.

i would see it for what it was ---

a gift.

even on the hardest, messiest, ugliest, dirtiest days ... i would stop in the midst of it all and i would, with open hands and a grateful heart, give thanks.

but some days it was harder than it should have been.

somedays, in fact, i said my "thank yous" with clenched fists and through clenched teeth (which, on somedays, i hadn't found time to brush).

because some days, even when we've been given an amazing gift, it takes more than it should to say thank you. we have to dig deeper than we ever thought possible for those two simple words.

when i was feeling less than grateful, i would literally remind myself that there were other women out there trying to juggle jobs and kids and errands and dinner time. i knew women who wanted desperately to be home with their young ones, but weren't able to swing it for one reason or another.

and there i was struggling to stay home and struggling to say thanks.

since those days of having really young children, things have gotten easier -- physically easier for sure.  i'm still home full time with them and still incredibly grateful. i'm thankful for the chance to kiss my high schoolers good-bye in the morning and i'm thankful to meet my kindergartner at her classroom door each day at noon. i'm thankful to have the opportunity to throw tyler's soccer jersey in the wash when he needs it or to run up to school a left behind lunchbox (not often, but on occasion). i'm thankful to have the opportunity to be in and out and all around the lives of my school-aged children. i'm thankful i can be available and i'm happy to be here.

but still, even now, i need to be reminded.

because after all these years of staying home with my kids, i'll be honest, it is easy to forget that it's a gift. even though the maternity clothes and leaky breasts are long gone, i still sometimes need a reminder. i can feel it deep in my bones. i can sense it seeping out in my actions. i have watched myself, on occasion, teeter on that line of entitlement.

it's in the small things.

it's in the way i just kind of expect things to go my way when the kids head out to school. i kind of expect to have my day to myself. i kind of expect to have control of the outcome...control of the hours.

like they belong to me.

like i've earned it.

like i've put in hard time with young children and now it is my time.

i cringe writing that because i know how ugly it reads.

this past week i had one of those moments. i was sitting in the hair salon with a head full of highlight foils when i got the message from my girlfriend, diana. "school is closing early due to some kind of electrical issue in the building. do you want me to get your kids?"

it was 9:30 in the morning. i should have had hours. but instead i had a head full of foils and only a handful of minutes -- my kids were heading back home. soon.

this wasn't my plan for the day.we were just coming off a three day weekend and i was really looking forward to just a little bit of uninterrupted time. i had a list.

and i'll admit,  my first thought was not about the safety of my children, but about the state of my highlighted hair. (don't judge). just to be clear here, from my friend's text, i knew the children were safe ... i didn't have to go THERE -- to that place of extreme mother-worry. but, i also didn't go the place of "oh goodie, i get an extra day with the kiddos!" i just didn't. (neither did my friend, by the way).

(okay, stop! i can feel it...you're judging!)

when we talked a few minutes later though, she said to me ... "i have to run quickly to the grocery store, but then maybe i'll take the girls to the zoo?"
"the zoo?" i thought."really, the zoo?"
i had planned to do some shopping ... i had some errands to run.
i didn't have any spontaneous desire for the zoo. i just didn't.

did that make me a bad mom?

did that make me less of a stay-at-home kind of mom?

because isn't that the mark of a successful stay-at-home mom? a mom who when school is cancelled can whip right out of her back pocket some kind of fun day parade? i used to think that. i used to think that because i had the privilege of staying home full time i also had the responsibility of making things perfect full time.

i thought, because i was home, then i should always: cook healthy dinners, volunteer to bake cupcakes, have organized closets, video tape every event, grow my own produce, provide piano lessons, photograph every moment, make homemade applesauce, sew beautiful clothing, update baby books daily, smile at everything, host coffees, lead multiple bible studies, remember everyone's birthdays, make my own candles, always be happy ...

right?

what-ever!

maybe some of you stay-at-home moms feel that way right now. maybe you're feeling since you aren't bringing in a paycheck you should sure as heck be bringing up perfect children in a perfectly smooth life.

uh-uh.

let.that.go.girlfriend.

right now.

take off that poor pathetic attempt and hang it up it with your supermom cape in the corner of your closet...behind your former-life-suits or your maternity mumus or your whatever.

and, then ...  shut the door fast.

and run.

stay-at-home mom: you've been given a privilege. a gift. an opportunity. and, by all means, be grateful! BE GRATEFUL! but don't think for one minute that the present is going to stay perfectly wrapped and the bow is going to always be pristine.

being home with our kids is like the christmas morning aftermath. it's a mess, right? there are gifts all over the place, but so is their mess all over the place. and somedays you can hardly find the gifts in the midst of all that unwrapping...in the midst of all that undoing! we don't line up our gifts neatly on shelves ready for display, nope, we're all over the living room and all over each other and all over everything.

and when we see that kind of mess through eyes of gratitude and with a heart of grace ... we see, not something perfect, but something beautiful.

friend, see something beautiful.

some of you reading this are stuck in the closet crying ... some of you are juggling jobs outside the home ... some of you are hurried at the hair salon ... some of you have hours on your hands and aren't sure what to do with your day.

there are different seasons in this journey. but i know for me, whatever the season, i have to remind myself of my choice --

the choice to look through the lens of gratitude and grace ... no matter what.

no matter where we are.
no matter what we're doing.
no matter how it looks.

--- every season. every day. a gift.

(by the way, just in case you were wondering ... no one went to the zoo).

i will wave when they look back

12th, 10th, 8th, 5th and kindergarten!

and there they go.

all five of them out the door and off to school and into the next new year -- the next new thing. the next season of their quick-as-a-wink childhoods.

summer things put away. bare feet covered in school shoes. bathing suits swapped out for new digs. goggles, towels, and pool bags left hanging -- the remnants of summer abandoned on hooks in our mud room.

a seasonal changing of the guard.

backpacks and book bags and lunch boxes now strewn across the kitchen ... staking claim for what is rightfully, once again, theirs.

no need for sun screen this morning.

emily asks me to braid her hair.

i can barely stand for the mixture of emotions tangling around my feet, threatening to topple me over as i crouch before them in the their cleaned-up state, snapping pictures and capturing a moment and trying my best to remain calm. the quick click of shutter matches the beat of my mama-heart. it's the rhythm of right now. the staccato sound of click.beat.click.beat. tapping out the message of this morning: one.moment.in.time. 

because this day will never happen again. today all five of them head off to school. same day. same morning. same hour. same direction.

somehow, we have been handed this precious gift of perfect coordination.

it's a first, and it will be a last. 

today, our little bella begins kindergarten. and today, our almost grown up emily begins her senior year of high school. the other three spaced across the in-between-years, like glue holding together these two wildly far apart places. 

and it's all this mother can do to keep from dropping to her knees and clinging to the feet of these children, weeping, "stop! don't move. don't change. don't leave. don't grow up!"

except that that would be so entirely weird i'm sure all five of them, including the cute kindergartner, would race right out of the house forgetting their lunches and backpacks and brand new-first-day-of-school-shoes.  

so, i will calmly take a few pictures.

i will capture this sweet moment as they pause in one place ... under one roof ... for one purpose ... at one time.

i will remind them to grab their random first day of school things from the counter. i will hurry them along and try not to fuss too much. i will smile and put mama kisses on their cheeks ... even on the cheek of the boy who is now shaving. i will smile hard and hug tightly and let go appropriately.

i will wave when they look back. 

i will not think about the fact that, next year, on this day, emily will already be moved into her college dorm. next year, she will not ask me to braid her hair. woman pauses in her typing. should she delete that last sentence? delete such a thought? why go there? right?

but i will be brave:  leave the sentence. let the children go. capture the moment. embrace the change.

wipe the tears.

wash the breakfast dishes.

rejoice in the day.

and give thanks for it all.

kindergarten with mrs. paine!

5th grade with mrs. houston!

after bella's half day, we had lunch at the minnesota arboretum with our buddies,

 "little emme" and miss di.  (thanks for great pictures diana)!