Tomorrow is the first day of school for my little Ellie. If she overheard me calling her little, she would pipe right up and say, "Mooommmm...I'm not little. I'm a big kid, remember?" I have so many mixed emotions right now. Let me just preface all of this by saying that while she will be a "young five" going into Kindergarten, she is developmentally very ready for this. We are fortunate to have a lovely school very close to us, which appears to have so many enrichment opportunities with a heavy focus on early literacy. We've met her teacher, who is both kind and experienced and gives us the impression that she truly loves her job. We're very lucky considering all of the variables that go into starting school. We've also had many people ask why we're not homeschooling, or seem surprised when they learn that she'll be going to public school. And I'll just say that like homeschooling, sending your kids to public school is a choice with pros and cons, and in this season of our life this is our choice. It doesn't mean that we think homeschool isn't a good choice, but it's just not the right one for us right now. I am thankful to live in a city with so many options and so many diverse experiences among my friends. :)
But today? I feel a little heartbroken. My daughter, with whom I've spent pretty much every day of the last five years, will no longer spend her days at home with me. I will not be her caregiver between the hours of 8:30 and 3:30. Someone else will see her achieve great things and watch as she makes mistakes. Other kids will spend their days with her rather than her two younger sisters. Other adults will encourage, love, and discipline her during that time. I won't know every moment of every day with her. It is so hard to let go when I've spent her entire life trying to hold on. To love her well every day through the projectile vomiting, temper tantrums, boo boos, and the steep learning curve that is potty training. To give so much of myself to her when I'd rather sit in silence. To teach her all of the little things she might need to know before starting school. Knowing when to step in and when to step back and let her learn on her own. The last five years have forced me to throw myself out there when I'd rather run away and to know when to hold my tongue and watch her fall. So much of who I am is wrapped up in her. This child has changed me in some of the most dramatic ways. No wonder this is so hard.
I am sad and worried and excited and thrilled all at once. I'm sad for myself, because I will miss her. I'm worried about how she'll handle her mistakes, or how she'll get along with her classmates, or if she'll eat her lunch well, or if she'll be tired by 2:00. I'm excited for her because she'll get so many more opportunities in school that I could never give her. I'm thrilled because the teacher in me is jumping for joy over her classroom and the curriculum and her teacher and the staff and just all of the things. Today I held her on my lap for just a moment and thought about the tiny four-pound baby that she was and the smart, funny, beautiful little girl that she is now and I'm thankful. So thankful for this healthy girl despite all of our health scares early on. Grateful that God gave her life and let us be her parents. And enormously proud of the person she is becoming.
I will probably be a wreck tomorrow, and I anticipate she'll have some emotions as well. But just like every other thing we've faced in the last five years, I know we'll be okay. I look forward to this new part of our life as a family and the opportunity to give Piper some more attention and guidance. I can't wait to see how each of my girls grow and change in the coming months.
Monday, August 24, 2015
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
From One Season to Another
It's April. Spring is in full force here with trees budding, flowers blooming, and sun shining. I am so thankful for this season because it reminds me of new life and what a gift that is. God takes us through every season for a purpose, and I have realized that my life will always follow that pattern. There will be times of joy and ease, followed by times of confusion or heartache, and sometimes there are even periods when I will struggle to see the light and will have to find my footing all over again. There will never come a day that I have it all figured out.
Last time, I shared how the days seemed impossible. Honestly, I went through a season of depression and really struggled to find solid ground again. My relationship with God was strained, I felt distant from my family, I had deep sadness over situations outside my control, and truly felt like I was drowning under the weight of it all. I am thankful that my emotional winter has passed and that things are getting better now, but those feelings still come up. And I think I've finally accepted that there will always be struggle in this life. I won't ever reach that point where everything is neat and tidy and perfect...because perfect isn't real. If I want to live with real people and love them and follow Jesus, then no, my life won't look real pretty sometimes. Of course, there are beautiful days when everyone is relatively happy and we do something fun, but there are also days when everyone is screaming and I'm angry and I wonder why have I chosen to live this way?
I have been tempted my entire life to wish for the next thing. When I struggled through the awkward teenage years, I thought college would make everything better. When I got to college, all I could think about was how ready I was to get married and start my real life. When I got married and it was hard and messy (and sometimes ugly) I thought having kids would somehow make life fun again (yeah, I know...). And then when babies came and I was obviously going to be the best mother in the universe...I got a pretty rude awakening. I was actually not a natural at being a mother. The first two months of Ellie's life were spent with me just praying that she would sleep constantly and eating a lot of crackers while watching TV. Not a glorious beginning to what I thought was my life's calling.
But the good news? God gave me a way. Yeah, I kinda stunk at being a stay at home parent. And I was really selfish with my time. But very slowly, through bits and pieces, God provided. He brought me to a blog, of all things. A chance to write and think and reflect a little, and to feel accountable in some way to the job He had given me. Most of my posts were boring and superficial, but it was something. Through that, I became more interested in reading other blogs, which inspired me to learn how to cook after three years of tacos and pasta. I slowly started to find my footing in my new life.
There are a thousand other baby steps in my story of how God took me from a place of confusion, desperation, and darkness into a place of light and knowing. Knowing I am weak, but He is strong. Knowing I'm unqualified, but He qualifies the called. Knowing I'm just tired and burned out and done, but He is never done with me. And just knowing that gives me peace.
That's been on repeat these last few months. The struggle isn't over, but it has been lifted for a time. And for that, I'm thankful.
Last time, I shared how the days seemed impossible. Honestly, I went through a season of depression and really struggled to find solid ground again. My relationship with God was strained, I felt distant from my family, I had deep sadness over situations outside my control, and truly felt like I was drowning under the weight of it all. I am thankful that my emotional winter has passed and that things are getting better now, but those feelings still come up. And I think I've finally accepted that there will always be struggle in this life. I won't ever reach that point where everything is neat and tidy and perfect...because perfect isn't real. If I want to live with real people and love them and follow Jesus, then no, my life won't look real pretty sometimes. Of course, there are beautiful days when everyone is relatively happy and we do something fun, but there are also days when everyone is screaming and I'm angry and I wonder why have I chosen to live this way?
I have been tempted my entire life to wish for the next thing. When I struggled through the awkward teenage years, I thought college would make everything better. When I got to college, all I could think about was how ready I was to get married and start my real life. When I got married and it was hard and messy (and sometimes ugly) I thought having kids would somehow make life fun again (yeah, I know...). And then when babies came and I was obviously going to be the best mother in the universe...I got a pretty rude awakening. I was actually not a natural at being a mother. The first two months of Ellie's life were spent with me just praying that she would sleep constantly and eating a lot of crackers while watching TV. Not a glorious beginning to what I thought was my life's calling.
But the good news? God gave me a way. Yeah, I kinda stunk at being a stay at home parent. And I was really selfish with my time. But very slowly, through bits and pieces, God provided. He brought me to a blog, of all things. A chance to write and think and reflect a little, and to feel accountable in some way to the job He had given me. Most of my posts were boring and superficial, but it was something. Through that, I became more interested in reading other blogs, which inspired me to learn how to cook after three years of tacos and pasta. I slowly started to find my footing in my new life.
There are a thousand other baby steps in my story of how God took me from a place of confusion, desperation, and darkness into a place of light and knowing. Knowing I am weak, but He is strong. Knowing I'm unqualified, but He qualifies the called. Knowing I'm just tired and burned out and done, but He is never done with me. And just knowing that gives me peace.
That's been on repeat these last few months. The struggle isn't over, but it has been lifted for a time. And for that, I'm thankful.
Thursday, January 8, 2015
Impossible Days
Yesterday was a terrible day. So bad. And I feel like I've had more bad days in the last month than good ones. I am burned out and hollow and empty and tired. I have no energy to balance everything I'm taking on...I'm stressed about my kids' behavior, my exhaustion, my friends' problems, my disorganization. Name it and it's probably on my list of "things I'm stressed about."
My days feel impossible right now. It's impossible for me to be a happy mom. It's impossible for me to be kind, loving, and gentle with my kids. It's impossible for me to make it through a day without yelling at someone. It's impossible for me to feel rested, rejuvenated, or relaxed. It's impossible for me to have any energy beyond getting out of bed and feeding the kids three meals a day. There are whole days where I don't shower, get dressed, clean up, or do anything significant other than maintaining meal times and nap times. There are days when I have something fun planned, like going to the children's museum or a play group, but when the time comes to leave the house I just can't muster up enough of me to go. Heck, there are days when I desperately need to go to the grocery store because all we have to eat are crackers and water and I still can't even make that happen. At the end of almost every day, my concluding thought is, "I have failed my kids...again."
This last month has been hard. I have had many prayers that don't seem to be answered right now. I have other prayers that are answered, but with a not now and that's even harder for me to take. I wore myself out for the sake of holiday fun and I've retreated from most of my close relationships. I'm not having a lot of face-to-face conversation with other people, which means that all of my fears, guilt, failures, and anxieties live and grow stronger inside my head instead of having the light shone on them from someone else's perspective.
Billy read a devotional by John Piper this morning that started with Mark 10:27: "Jesus looked at them and said, 'With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God.'" Initially that verse sounded trite to me. Kind of like Philippians 4:13: "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." I have heard that verse used for everything from lifting weights to battling cancer. In this raw moment, it sounds overused and unoriginal. Scripture is God's word and I'm not making light of that, but rather how we so often get these battle cry verses and just use them over and over for the light and heavy things in life.
Thinking over how frustrated I am, I realized that every day does seem impossible. I feel like I'm just flailing in the ocean and trying so hard to keep myself and my three kids from drowning. I might be barely keeping them afloat, but with every wave I suck in a little more salt water. Soon, I will be a dead weight that will drag my kids under, too.
I don't want my life to look like that. I don't want my kids to grow up remembering how Mom was so dark and sad and angry. I don't want to push my husband away because I'm filled with hurt and guilt over my mistakes as a parent. So even though that Scripture sounds rough to me, it is a promise from Jesus. What I look at as impossible, God says it's not when I'm with Him.
I don't know how this will manifest itself today, but I wanted to share this because I can be good at hiding what my real life looks like. The appearance of having it together doesn't mean anything. My real days are filled with screaming and little girls playing princesses and cooking quesadillas again and hair getting caught inside remote-controlled cars and babies learning to walk. Real days are hard and funny and at the end of them I sometimes cry because I just don't know what to do. My hope is that as I get back into community and spending time with real people I will start to let some of these dark things go and rest in Jesus' promises. I'm not alone. My life is not impossible with God. He is the one who gives me strength. He is good.
My days feel impossible right now. It's impossible for me to be a happy mom. It's impossible for me to be kind, loving, and gentle with my kids. It's impossible for me to make it through a day without yelling at someone. It's impossible for me to feel rested, rejuvenated, or relaxed. It's impossible for me to have any energy beyond getting out of bed and feeding the kids three meals a day. There are whole days where I don't shower, get dressed, clean up, or do anything significant other than maintaining meal times and nap times. There are days when I have something fun planned, like going to the children's museum or a play group, but when the time comes to leave the house I just can't muster up enough of me to go. Heck, there are days when I desperately need to go to the grocery store because all we have to eat are crackers and water and I still can't even make that happen. At the end of almost every day, my concluding thought is, "I have failed my kids...again."
This last month has been hard. I have had many prayers that don't seem to be answered right now. I have other prayers that are answered, but with a not now and that's even harder for me to take. I wore myself out for the sake of holiday fun and I've retreated from most of my close relationships. I'm not having a lot of face-to-face conversation with other people, which means that all of my fears, guilt, failures, and anxieties live and grow stronger inside my head instead of having the light shone on them from someone else's perspective.
Billy read a devotional by John Piper this morning that started with Mark 10:27: "Jesus looked at them and said, 'With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God.'" Initially that verse sounded trite to me. Kind of like Philippians 4:13: "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." I have heard that verse used for everything from lifting weights to battling cancer. In this raw moment, it sounds overused and unoriginal. Scripture is God's word and I'm not making light of that, but rather how we so often get these battle cry verses and just use them over and over for the light and heavy things in life.
Thinking over how frustrated I am, I realized that every day does seem impossible. I feel like I'm just flailing in the ocean and trying so hard to keep myself and my three kids from drowning. I might be barely keeping them afloat, but with every wave I suck in a little more salt water. Soon, I will be a dead weight that will drag my kids under, too.
I don't want my life to look like that. I don't want my kids to grow up remembering how Mom was so dark and sad and angry. I don't want to push my husband away because I'm filled with hurt and guilt over my mistakes as a parent. So even though that Scripture sounds rough to me, it is a promise from Jesus. What I look at as impossible, God says it's not when I'm with Him.
I don't know how this will manifest itself today, but I wanted to share this because I can be good at hiding what my real life looks like. The appearance of having it together doesn't mean anything. My real days are filled with screaming and little girls playing princesses and cooking quesadillas again and hair getting caught inside remote-controlled cars and babies learning to walk. Real days are hard and funny and at the end of them I sometimes cry because I just don't know what to do. My hope is that as I get back into community and spending time with real people I will start to let some of these dark things go and rest in Jesus' promises. I'm not alone. My life is not impossible with God. He is the one who gives me strength. He is good.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)