Happy Royal Baby Day

Welcome to mama-hood Kate Middleton. 

I love that even though you're royalty, you had to labor and push that baby into the world, just like the rest of us mamas.  I love that even though you're married to a prince, you won't get a straight eight hours of sleep for many months to come. And while you were standing in wedges with perfectly flowing hair, just 24 hrs after birthing that baby, I sat thinking how you'll get pooped on within the week. Yes, that's what it's all about and not even you, Kate, can escape it. 

And isn't it wonderful?

A sweet, baby boy.

And we love him, because he's yours and William's, a prince.

With all the talk and twitter and constant coverage, my mind wanders back to another Prince, born thousands of years ago.

And if he were born today, with all the internet and social media and easy news access, would he have been bombarded by paparazzi and blogged about and googled?

I can't answer that for sure, but my guess is no.

Because the whole thing about that baby, the Lord of Lords, was that he came into the world humble, innocent, widely unknown.

It had to be that way.

He had to be just like us, the common, the beggars, the poor.

He had to be accessible and approachable so that we could be saved.

So welcome to the world little prince of Cambridge.  I pray that you grow to one day know and honor your creator.

The

One

True

King.

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Popsicles in the rain

Confession time...there's this thing I struggle with. And I mean really struggle with, not like getting a toddler dressed and out the door struggle, but like if you asked me one thing I wish I could tackle and stomp out for good, it would be this.

Accomplishing too much at one time, or should I say attempting to accomplish too much at one time. Because let's face it, there's only so much one mama can handle. Yet I keep pushing to get it all done. And you know who suffers?

Toddling A. Who really needs to be upgraded. She's turning three next week after all and if she were still toddling I'd be concerned she was a little behind the curve...so Preschooling A it shall be.

Anyways, she is the one who ends up feeling like she's always in my way. But in reality, shouldn't she be in my way? She's a little girl wanting to do little girl things, like ride her scooter directly into the path of the vacuum. And spill flour all over the floor while helping make pancakes. And turn her playroom into a caution taped off police only disaster zone.. It's me who has the problem.

Try saying that out loud...it's my problem.

Last week I decided to have some friends over to play. I could have left it at that, had some friends over...the end.

Nope.

Not this girl.

I get home from work the night before and immediately start cleaning. I like my house but there is a lot of floor space and a lot of corners and sometimes it feels like I might as well be cleaning the driveway because the dirt doesn't stop! But here I am hurrying and busying and on a roll making sure there's toilet paper and hand soap and carpets vacuumed. And I'm sweating which is apparently all you do when you live inside a humid wool sock...aka the south. And that makes me mad and I remember I hadnt even cooked dinner yet.

And yep, you guessed it. Here comes Preschooling A. All smiles and just a flying on her scooter. I finish vacuuming and turn around and she has completely turned over a runner and scattered even MORE dirt onto the floor I JUST vacuumed.

I knew it wasn't a big deal but I had a ton left to do and was tired and she was supposed to be playing upstairs and so I see it as not listening and I lost it. You can add your own details. It wasn't pretty. And there were tears. The kind of tears that tell when a little heart is breaking.

And I'd like to tell you this doesn't happen often, and its true the yelling doesn't, but the feelings do. Being interrupted when I have nine different things going on drives me batty. And while I have learned not to yell and scream, I still confine Preschooling A to her room or tell her things like

"Not now"
"Go play"
"Just a second"

But....and here's the thing...

All the not nows and go plays and just a seconds will be over all too soon. And there will be the vacuum, sitting there, saying, now I have you all to myself muhahaha and ill be longing for the  interruptions of my sweet Preschooling A.

So just as I'm drowning in my guilt and shame and can't figure out how to come up for even one breath of relief, God brings me this.

"We are merely moving shadows, and all our busy rushing ends in nothing." Psalm 39:6

So I dropped what I was doing and Preschooling A and I went outside and ate popsicles in a glorious thunderstorm. Yes, even before we ate dinner. And the tears stopped and the guilt melted down along with the purple flavored ice. And isn't life just like that? Things get all out of order and sticky and then it starts to rain and lightening strikes and we get a choice. To keep trudging along the best we can, or trade all the chaos for a wild, unashamed, eating popsicles in the rain kind of moment.

That night I chose to trade. Trade a clean uptight house for some smiles and a gooey face.

I learned something else. To quote a favorite writer, Ann Voskamp,

"Hurry always empties a soul."

I don't want an empty soul. And most importantly, I don't want my precious daughter, the most important gift God has ever trusted me with, to have an empty soul either.

I'm working on slowing down and doing more soul filling these days.

And about that clean house...our friends came and our friends left. A mess that is. A tremendously wonderful mess. A we had way too much fun mess.

An honest to God mess of memories.

And that...

That'll fill your soul 'til it's downright flowing over.

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Fully loved - no.matter.what

'Sup?  We just spent an ENTIRE day at the zoo and the aquarium.  It's what I wanted for my birthday present this year.  Because one, I'm a nerd and b it seemed like the perfect day.  That is until you're toddler has a meltdown at 9am and is scared of the dolphin show and says at every single exhibit "I wanna see something else!"  Remind me next year to ask for a pedicure and massage.

Writing to you with my trusty straw-ber-rita at my side (which is all my brother's fault, after all he is a rep for Anheuser-Busch and with each sip I pay a little of his salary...right) seems like the perfect way to unwind.



So here I am.

Brand new.

We don't get to be brand new very often in our lives, some more than others, but new is how I label myself these days.  I'm new to a state, a town, a community, a job, a church, a preschool, a doctor's office and all the other things that come a long with moving.  I'm even new to Publix.

Exciting and little bit hair raising all in one go.

I've conquered a lot in the past month to negate my newness, minus actually changing my license plate and registering my car which my insurance company calls daily about.  I'll get around to that before well, I'll get around to it. I promise.

But besides all that, you know what's been the hardest to overcome?

Friends.

Finding them.

I've met women. And I've met mamas. But friends?  They're proving to be a little more elusive.

I recently read an article, passed along to me, ironically, by a good friend, that discusses why women need friends.  You can read it here.

You see, not only is spending time with good friends scientific...whoop whoop for oxytocin!

Spending time with other women is spiritual.  And just like if I slack on any other aspect of my spiritual life, I feel I live with a void.

A void so obvious that when another girlfriend from NC spontaneously visited me, I had to choke back tears as we stood hugging in my driveway.  Just that short hour of a visit, talking about nothing and talking about everything filled my fellowship tank for days.  You can read her blog here and fill up your own tank.  It's worth it. Trust me.

So, if friendship is THAT important for us women, why are friends so hard to find?  Doesn't make much sense to me. Shouldn't all us women, and especially all us Christian women, be reaching out and over and in and out again to other women? 

I've been in contact with two mom groups recently.  One I found online through a meetup website and the other I found through a local church.  My first experience with the online group was a mom's night in.  I had a blast.  The other mom's were friendly and welcoming and funny, good grief were they funny.  I'm not sure I'll make a best friend there but I will definitely be getting together with them again.

My next experience was with the church mamas. I had been in contact by email with the group organizer and was incredibly excited to meet these women.  I had tons of fun with the online group but was ready to get involved with a faith based group.  Now, granted, we met up at a kids museum/play place, which we all know can be chaotic and not necessarily the best place for getting to know people, but I was astounded. When I walked up to the group in the parking lot, no one spoke to me, that is until I was introduced by the organizer.  I chalked this up to the fact we met in the parking lot and maybe they thought I was standing in the wrong place.  Plus, I didn't speak to them either...touche.  But surprisingly, once inside, any connections made were initiated by me. These women are kind, I'm sure, they're great mom's, absolutely no doubt, and once I spoke to as many as I could, they were friendly and even welcoming.  And I will give it another chance because I truly believe they meant no harm.  But what if I had a different, quieter personality?  I would have been ignored. 

Why is it that the group with no church/religious or even spiritual affiliation was more friendly and welcoming?  My mom said to me a few days ago, "people in a bar are more welcoming than people in a church."

Ouch.

That.is.heart.breaking.

And moms, women, ladies, that won't change unless we change it.

WE HAVE TO CHANGE.

If you're a believer, and you belong to any sort of group, whether affiliated with your church or not, recognize this issue.  No. Don't recognize it.  Tackle it.  Solve it.

End it.

I have this theory. I believe it's true for moms but I'd go as far to say it's true for most women.  We're scared. Scared of being criticized.  Scared of being judged.  Worried we just won't measure up. So we don't reach outward, we hunker inward. I read these words from Beth Moore recently, “We will never be secure until we realize we are fully loved by God, no matter our failings.”

Read it again. This time with my emphasis

“We will never be secure until we realize we are fully loved by God, no matter our failings.” 

So what if your kid had a donut for breakfast.  At least he ate.

So what if you were on your cell phone for most of your child's field trip.  At least you showed up.




You've kept the kids alive.  That's nothing to sneeze at.

This is what I'm saying.  God loves you, fully, no matter your failings. And that's all that matters.  What are you afraid of?

Talk to the new person. She needs you to.  And you might find out, you need her too.



p.s. I must tell you, in actuality, I have met someone. A friend. She's in fact a neighbor to my realtor. And she reached out to me. When I had no clue who she was. She has two beautiful children and an even more beautiful spirit. And I heart her. And if she's reading this, "Hi friend, I'm thankful for you. And know, you're welcome to drink a strawberita with me anytime!"

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Nomads no more

Hello there lovees! I can finally breathe again.  For a little while I felt like an elephant was sitting on my chest and my brain at the same time.

 

I considered it a success if I opened my eyes in the morning and remembered where I was. 

Remember the house I posted a picture of in my last ramblings? ( We didn't buy it. Not one teeny tiny inch of it.  Not even the poop colored counter tops.  It didn't appraise.  Not just the counter tops, but the whole house.  Came in 30k less than our offer. 

Alas, we were homeless. AGAIN.

We gave up looking for a house to buy and decided to build our own.  We bought some land, we contracted a builder.  We were told August was to be the completion date.  So now what?  If I can still count correctly that's 5 months we gotta find a roof over our heads.

After calling every rental listing from craigslist to your momma's house, we finally found a townhouse willing to rent to us short term doberman owning tenants.  We were to move in the first week of April.  And with that we packed our bags and headed to NC for Easter.  That was March 25th.

On March 26th, the very next day, my realtor calls.  "So hey, you know the house you walked through, in the neighborhood you're building in, the one you saw as an example of what you're building?  Yea well the guy who was under contract on that house, his financing fell through, today. You wanna buy it?  You can close April 25th."

Ummm...hold on...let me call my husband...I don't even remember what that house looked like...we can buy it for the same amount we were going to build for? Are you speaking English?

Yea so long story short we did just that.  We bought the house Charles (I got some of his mail, so we're on a first name basis now) built but could not buy.  I'm considering putting a "This is the house that Charles built" sign above our front door.  Classy?  I think so.

After our Easter week in NC Husband R and doberman Bo Bo headed back to the lake house to wait out the time before closing and Toddling A and I adventured across the east coast, from NC to VA to WV to MD and all the way back to GA again.  We were gone for just shy of 30 days.  Hence the trouble remembering where I was when I woke up.  You try sleeping in the same bed with a toddler for a month.  You'd be lost too.

So all that I wrote about being thankful and seeing God's hand in this process?  It's still true.  If not even more true than before.  It kind of feels like we kept grabbing these homes and God kept slapping our hands away.  We finally got  our fingers around one, we were holding on tight, and God took it away for the 4th time.  I was frustrated, sure.  Confused? Absolutely.

But there was and is beauty from ashes.  This beauty to be exact.  We just had to find it, or should I say it had to find us.

So we're in.  No longer homeless. 

Unpacking.... now that's a whole 'nother story.

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One Thousand Gifts

Well herrroooo,

I guess I should say Happy New Year!  I am in awe that it's been 2 months since I've written to you lovely people.  I hope the beginning of 2013 has been kind to you. Also, happy merry lent season for those of you who practice it.  I asked Husband R if he was giving anything up for lent to which he replied, "North Carolina."  He's a sassy one he is.

But alas, we have given up NC and are officially Georgians.  When I explained to Toddling A that we were moving to Georgia she said "I not like that boy."  Someone takes after her dad.

Anyways, I have a lot to say to you and my fingers are too cold to want to say them.  I thought GA was warm.  Apparently not. It's also rainy.  Does anyone else feel like it's rained entirely too much as of late?  The sun'll come out tomorrow, you can bet your bottom dollar.  I haven't checked the forecast for tomorrow but I'm not betting my bottom dollar, then who will pay my heat bill if I'm wrong?

God is good all the time.  Did you know that?  I mean like all the time.  Even in the rain.  And the cold.  He's still good.

Let me list to you my reasons as of late to prove to you He is indeed good, and faithful, and just and loving.  This might be a long list.  And that's a very good thing. 

1. We listed our house on Sunday it sold on Tues.  For the math challenged, the house was under contract in 3 days.  What was the offer?  1k less than list price and no closing costs needed. Say what? It's true. 


2. Part of the reason it went under contract is because I have snazzy, fancy friends who let us borrow all their nice and fancy things to stage our home.  I mean top to bottom, furniture, decor, candles.  All not mine all used to make the house pretty.  And it worked.

3. We had these windows.  These double paned windows.  That had this sort of seal in between those panes.  Those seals got lost.  I looked everywhere.  And condensation and foggy stuff crept in.  Windows are expensive.  Certainly the prospective buyer will want money or windows replaced. How about no.  How about that buyer only asked for a $500 credit be applied to closing costs. 

4.  The real estate market is poor to say the least.  We listed our house higher than any other house in the neighborhood had previously sold for.  My realtor was nervous about the appraisal.  The buyer's agent didn't think the house would appraise. My realtor who originally sold me the house was even doubtful.  I was prepared for bad news.  It appraised. Exactly for the list price.

You still there?  Are you seeing a pattern?  Good.  Because it keeps going.

5. The appraisal came back a week before our closing date.  That means a week before we were to turn over our keys to the new owner, we had no place to live. I had people offering us a place to stay.  It was that bad.  I called corporate housing and short term apartment people.  It's expensive, say 2k more than our mortgage.  Plus lots of money to cover our apparently scary and dangerous dog.  Have you met him?  So I google.  And google some more.  Are shelter's out of the question?  Then, out of the blue, a vacation rental company pops up.  A 4 bedroom lake house, available, in the off season. Cheaper than corporate housing and short term apartments.  And the management are some of the nicest people I've ever done business with.  Yes, I'm writing you from lakefront property.  Beats an apartment hands down everytime.

6.  We had seen probably 35 houses by the time we moved into our lovely rental.  And I looked at 5 more the Thurs after we had arrived.  Nothing.  We even raised our price 10k.  Houses either didn't have yards or were too old or had funky smelly things growing in them or they cost too much.  Really. I gave up at least 3 times.  Did I mention it either rained or snowed every time we looked?  Think I'm lying?  I was looking for houses during a tornado warning.  My realtor she's a champ.  Concluding we're not meant to buy a house just yet,  Husband R and I set a deadline, a week away, if we don't find anything by then we rent something for 6 months. Bleh, okay. Saturday I'm back at it.  Spur of the moment kind of deal.  The last house we see at 4:30pm, could this be it?  It doesn't have a fence.  The kitchen counter tops are the color of poop. I'm not joking.  And it's acrylic paint. Who does that?

But in every other way, it's exactly what we're looking for.  Spacious, move in ready, minus those two things that can be fixed.  Husband R drives from the lake house, an hour away to to see it.  This better be it or I'm in trouble.  Toddling A arrives and has to actually poop.  It's probably the counter tops giving her the idea.  She does so in the half bath, that has to be a sign we're home.  We offer. 8k less than asking price. And we want the refrigerator and a home warranty and 3k in closing costs.  We wait.  And wait.  And wait.  24 hrs go by.  No word.  This can't be good news. Hopefully they're working up a counter offer, I mean we did ask for the cake and icing too.  Phone rings.  Our offer has been accepted.  No questions asked. No counter. You've got to be kidding me.  Happy, happy dance.  Hooorays all around!  We went from possibly having to buy a house we could barely afford to facing renting for 6 months to actually buying a house that will have a lesser mortgage than our house in Charlotte.  Here she is.  I heart her.

Time to get honest. I did not happily float, skip or even glide through this process.  There was doubt.  There were tears.  Gray hair and fever blisters.  Sleepless nights. Yelling.  But one thing that I noticed.  That is different from stressful times in my life before.  I could see God's hand.  Actually SEE it.  Times before, I'd get to the other side of a life event and look back and say, "Wow, God really knew what he was doing." Or "I can really see how God brought all of that together."  But this time, I saw him during the decision making. I felt his presence and his words and his guidance the entire time.  And on those days when I was drowning in doubt or pity He always brought me back.  Sometimes with his word, sometimes through other people and most times through prayer.

We prayed. Out loud. Together. Many times. Because you see, I read this "Up to this time you have not asked a [single] thing in My Name [as presenting all that I AM]; but now ask and keep on asking and you will receive, so that your joy (gladness, delight) may be full and complete. John 16:24"

And after the 35th house it struck me.  Husband R and I had prayed for the home selling process, but together we had not united to pray for the home buying process.  So we did.  It wasn't fancy.  It wasn't dramatic.  We just asked in His name.  And the next day we found it.

I know God answers every prayer.  Sometimes the answer is no.  Sometimes the answer is wait.  And a lot of times the answer isn't really even what we were hoping for.  But try to see his hand guiding you.  Ask him to help you understand his ways.  Thank him.  It's extremely hard to be upset at your circumstances if your in a constant state of thankfulness.  I promise. 

On one of my trips to house hunt, before we had moved, and had to come stay in a hotel and Toddling A and I had to look for houses while Husband R worked, on one of those trips, we literally ran out of houses to see.  But it was only 3:30 and Husband R didn't finish until 5 and Toddling A and I had no where to go.  My champ realtor says we can hang out with her while she finishes up some other work and we'll head back to her office to see if any new listings had showed up.  It's like a 30 min drive so toddling A falls asleep.  I opt to hang out in the car, in the parking lot of my realtor's office so Toddling A can sleep. Fingers crossed she doesn't pee in her seat.  We're still not out of the woods on bladder control while sleeping.  So here I am, sitting in someone's car with my toddler snoozing and probably peeing and nothing to do but sit and wait and hope and fret.  Then the sun came out.  I rolled down the windows.  It warmed up.  I couldn't get any wi-fi for my kindle so I was forced to read.  And read I did.  About thankfulness.  About how even in death Jesus was thankful. 

In her book One Thousand Gifts, Ann Voskamp writes

"“On the night when he was betrayed, the Lord Jesus took some bread and gave thanks to God for it. Then he broke it in pieces …” (1 Corinthians 11: 23— 24, emphasis added). Jesus, on the night before the driving hammer and iron piercing through ligament and sinew, receives what God offers as grace, the germ of His thanksgiving? Oh. Facing the abandonment of God Himself (does it get any worse than this?), Jesus offers thanksgiving for even that which will break Him and crush Him and wound Him and yield a bounty of joy."

So as I sat in the car and read that, me who is not facing abandonment, who has been receiving God's blessings since this whole crazy uprooting thing began, started thanking God.  I thanked him for the sun.  Thanked him for my realtor, for Avery, for the money to even buy a house, for a husband who provides.  I just kept going.  And going.  And I stopped worrying.  And of course as the days went on and house was still yet to be found worry crept back in.  But I tried to focus on being thankful.  And on praising God.

And no, this season is not over, and really, is hardship ever over?  Will things always go swimmingly? I'd bet my bottom dollar that it wont.  But here's the thing. I'm learning and I'm growing and I'm keeping my eyes on Jesus.  I'm figuring out how to be content. And I'm realizing I'm loved.  And prayer works. 

And painting your counter tops a poop color brown/green is a very bad idea.

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Downward to upward, inward to outward

Hello loves, it's good to be writing to you again.  I first have to confess something to you.  I've been an inconsiderate friend to many of you. And I'm sorry.  We've got big news in our family and after I told a couple of folks, I quit telling people and several of you have found out either through the tangled grapevine or by me mentioning something in a passing conversation.  And that's not fair.  So here it is, I'm telling you all.

We're...not....having a baby!  (Gotcha)

No it's not that.  But we are moving. To Georgia, I can't yet admit Atlanta, so I say the Atlanta area.  But we will, in the near future, be living closer to hotlanta than to the queen city.   Sigh......

You can imagine when husband first told me the news.

"Hey, guess what, I got promoted!  And we're moving.  To Atlanta."

Tears.

Lots of tears.

It wasn't fair to him.  He has worked so hard for this and devotes himself fully to providing so that I can stay home and raise toddling A. And not only stay at home, but have nice things too.  But in the moment the reaction was sadness.

Then anger.

I recently read in Soul Detox by Craig Groeschel that there are two ways to express anger.  You're either a "spewer" or a "stewer."  And man do I spew.  Groeschel says "a spewer has a short fuse and a hot temper. If you’re a spewer, when you get angry, everyone around you knows it."

Yea, I spewed.  And spewed.  And spewed some more.  Proverbs 14:17 says "A quick-tempered person does foolish things."

And I did some really stupid foolish things.  Like not congratulating my husband.  Like not focusing on the fact that God is still on his throne.  Like pouting and crying and refusing to see the positive side of this whole thing.

I kept playing the same reel over and over.  I've lived here six years.  I got married here. We bought our first house here. We became members of our first church and husband was saved here.  Our first child was born here.  I've found the best families I've ever worked for here. I have a wonderfully gigantic network of people who'd I'd do anything for and they'd do anything for me, here, right here, not in Atlanta. For pete's sake.  WHY would you take me away from this God???

Twice now, in two separate books (coincidence? I think not) I've read about how we tend to focus on the why of things instead of the who.

"Sooner or later we all encounter situations that leave us baffled. Whether a single event or a series of circumstances that assault us with shock and awe, we’re left with the unanswerable questions of why? Why me? Why now? Why again? When we ask such questions to the exclusion of all else, we can miss opportunities to encounter God in our midst. Yet the invitation to awaken the wonder all around us remains: even in the affliction, even in the loss, even in the pain, God’s presence remains." -Margaret Feinberg, Wonderstruck

Feinberg goes on to say "Laying hold of such wonder requires us to shift our question from why to who: (emphasis mine) Who will walk with me? Who is the source of light in my darkness? Who always proves faithful? As we begin asking these questions, our focus shifts from downward to upward, from inward to outward... In the most opaque circumstances of life, even when he feels a million miles away, the knowledge of the presence of God allows us to laugh when everything else says we should be crying." 


My very wise husband said to me not long ago, "This is going to be good for us."  But I couldn't understand that.

Until now.

We're being given the opportunity to sell our house and walk away owing the bank nothing.  In this market, who can say that?  We're selling our car and losing a car payment, and that car's gas and insurance costs.  We'll be able to arrive in GA very close to debt free.  What a blessing.  What a God thing.

I'm not saying this is easy.  Nor am I saying that I'm 100% okay with this change.  What I am saying is that instead of crying I'm allowing myself to laugh.  Instead of looking downward I'm looking up.

And I know exactly Who is looking back.

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You can probably tell by now that I am not a writer.  I've only ever taken those easy writing classes in high school.  Okay so I did take one poetry class in college and I barely passed.  Apparently all poetry is not supposed to rhyme.  Now you know.

I come here and write when something I read or hear or experience sticks with me.  Something I think will benefit another person, something God puts on my heart to get out there, so, I pray, he can use to his glory.   But because I'm not a writer I'm not always motivated to come here and blog.  I'll roll ideas around in my head for weeks with full intention of coming here and spitting it out.  Then wine, the couch, reality t.v., stuff happens and the last thing I want to do is stare at my computer.  I even started this post, had to run up stairs 3 times during the course of starting it to soothe an unwilling to go to bed Toddling A, gave up on the post for the night and then decided to try again.  Stuff happens.

All this to say that I apologize for the lengths between my posts.  I promise you that most everything I feel God telling me to write winds up on this blog.  I just may not do it in a timely fashion.  But I do it.  And you read it.  So THANK YOU!

Kay.

Ever feel like a failure?  Or maybe not a complete failure, but just not quite living up to expectations or standards?  Yea, me too. I think most things we do, unless we're experts at them, make us feel somewhat inadequate.  We could make a really long list together.  But then we'd all probably feel more like failures because our list isn't long enough.  It's why we have the term "epic fail" and a website devoted to such fails.

 
Motherhood, for starters, can quickly make you feel like a pencil in crayon packaging. Just wrong. And confused. At least there's 12 of them.  It could have been worse. 

I was in the mall a few days ago, at the soft play area.  The one with 65 snotty nosed kids sneezing all over each other.  Toddling A was one of them.  And as she was sitting on the gigantic cat wiping snot bubbles from her face, another toddling person approached her and became quite upset that he too could not ride the cat.  Toddling A wasn't moving and her toddling friend wasn't giving in.  Mama bear quickly approached and began apologizing for her son's behavior, explaining how she keeps telling him to be nice and not to harass other children. I of course shot back that Avery does the same thing and we've been working on that too and yada yada yada we're both trying not to look like bad moms because of our children's actions please see that we're trying not to fail at this and screw our children up forever.   If you've ever been in an indoor play place oozing with stay at home moms you know what I mean.  All these women trying to prove to someone, to no one, that we're not failing.  That we have it together.  That our children are polite and kind.

Then I read this:

"For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, ³⁶ I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me (Matthew 25:35-36.) Who get's hungrier than a newly awakened baby? Who is more naked than a recently born child? Who is more a stranger than an infant who comes into this world knowing no one? Who gets sick more often than a little one, who seems inclined toward ear infections diaper rash, and colic?"  - Sacred Parenting, Gary Thomas

Then in Matthew 25:40 "I tell you the truth whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me."

Mothers, you are "doing exactly what Jesus tells us will be most rewarded in heaven." - Thomas

So I'm doing those things for Toddling A.  I'm trying really hard to be a good mom. I know mall mama was too. 

30 second dance party. Go.

 

Wasn't that fun?  Welcome back.  

Really, time is up.  Stop dancing.  Finish reading.

Because, there's this other thing I'm trying really hard to be good at.  And feeling like I'm not.

My relationship with God.  This is the area where, when stuff happens and that relationship gets pushed aside and I go too long without spending time with him, writing an apology full of excuses and publishing it on my blog doesn't get me slap happy back to square one.  Just like any relationship, time spent together is the only thing that will make it grow.  So to grow a relationship with God I can't push it aside, think about doing it and finally getting around to it.  I have to be intentional. And I try.

Throughout the Bible we're told to seek.

Psalm 105:4
Look to the LORD and his strength; seek his face always.

Psalm 119:2
Blessed are they who keep his statutes and seek him with all their heart.

Luke 11:9
So I say to you: Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you.

So when I looked up what it means to seek something, the dictionary says 

a : to go in search of : look for

b : to try to discover 

 

Bingo. Bongo.

 

I am searching. And I am trying.  Just like I'm trying to be good at mothering.  My heart is in it. To win it. And you know something.  God knows that.  Which is why he promises to reward those who care for the least of these.   Because he knows it's not easy.  And although God did not design having a relationship with him to be hard, he does know that because we're human and we have our "stuff," building a relationship with him takes work.  

 

I recently had my soul filled with this breath of fresh air. It's from a devotional book titled Jesus Calling.

"Don't let feelings of failure weigh you down. Instead, try to see yourself as I see you. First of all, I am delighted by your deep desire to walk closely with Me through your life. I am pleased each time you initiate communication with me. In addition, I notice the progress you have made since you first resolved to live in My Presence... Each time you plow your way through the massive distractions to communicate with Me, you achieve a victory."

God knows about our stuff and our trying to plow through our stuff and he loves us anyway.   

Wanna dance with me again?

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