The Laps

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The shadow of my stride around God’s promise illuminates motherly purpose to my heart.

I revisited The Other Side, today, as part of a new blog tradition to make a “Throwback Thursday” post part of my routine.  As I scrolled through the text, my jaw dropped at how much it mirrored my notes for today’s #livefree Thursday, “I’m marked.”

“Maybe my daughters will learn to love distance running and it’s masochistic ways, too. If not in running than in something that they question why they love, until they are out there in it. I’m trying to instill an experience in them that will help shape their determination, by simply showing them who I am. I might not have it all figured out yet, but maybe that’s a good thing to accept early on in parenting.

Practice isn’t perfect, but it can make it.” -The Other Side

When the satellite TV becomes digitally distorted for a moment, I panic over what might happen if it doesn’t straighten itself out…what if I miss a play of the Browns game that could become the only highlight of our entire season?!?!?!  When my motherly satellite dish gets bogged down by heavy rains of “I don’t know what to do here…,” I tend to wig completely out in a panicked search of plausible solutions.

I do not know how to keep my baby daughter from feeling defeated over getting placed on a bad behavioral chart color at school.  How can I convince her that she is truly going to be OK if she will not listen to any reasonable word I have to say?  What kind of crazy state comes over my baby when she cries in fear before I even know what I should be mad about?

“Lo Lo,” I assured, “I promise I will not be mad at you, baby…just tell me imagewhat happened.” (Famous last words, mom.)

“It will only make it worse if I tell you.”

Make what worse?  What did I miss?

I could tell the dread of having to run laps around the property (punishment for breaking four very broad house rules that can be applied to almost any circumstance) was already starting to cause a “crank” in her side. But there was nothing to be punished for yet…

Oh.

And then the self torture began as my mind launched into the outer realms of space where the occasions in which I totally lost my cool hang out…and then I started, once again, to doubt my parenting abilities.  I started to feel all kinds of crazy …and defeated …and like I am going to screw these kids up for eternity.

“I’m trying to instill an experience in them that will help shape their determination, by simply showing them who I am.” -The Other Side

God wants that for us.  He wants to help shape our determination by showing us who He is.

“I AM, “he told Moses in Exodus 3:14, “I AM WHO I AM.”

imageHe is all that we will ever need, because He has planned out every minute of our lives.  God layered each life with purpose so profound that He states the only provision required is His plan, for the deployment of which He sent His Son…and His Spirit.

“And you also were included in Christ when you heard the word of truth, the gospel of your salvation.  Having believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit, who is a deposit guaranteeing our inheritance until the redemption of those who are God’s possession- to the praise of his glory.” -Ephesians 1:13-14

Mothers are not made mothers by accident.  God meant to give me these children.  It was no mistake.  God’s plan is perfect and His timing is perfect, but my understanding of His perfect will is anything but.

If I can learn to relax in my purpose and create habits of seeking out His Word and giving what I have to Him each day, then my daughters will be well-equipped to apply the same principles in their own lives.  I have no doubt it will be hard to watch them stretch out to grasp Him in their own time. But by prayer and discipline in my own life and walk with Christ, I can do my human best to lead them to the path of righteousness.

In Paul’s letter to Timothy, he reminds his young padawan in the faith of the example he gleaned from his mother and grandmother.  Two generations of faithful servants led Timothy’s feet to the start of his own path to answer God’s call on his life.

“I am calling up memories of your sincere and unqualified faith, a faith that first lived permanently in the heart of your grandmother Lois and your mother Eunice and now, I am fully persuaded, dwells in you also.”  -2Timothy1:5

Isn’t that marvelous?  Paul didn’t say Timothy’s mother and grandmother were perfect.  They were marked.

I am marked.

Every night, as I scroll through my camera roll in the quiet of a imagepost-bedtime house, I am reminded of how blessed I am by the simple smiles of the day.  A midst the selfies, photo bombs, and “send this one to daddy” poses, it’s there.  That look of love.  They were looking at me, today… And we were all smiling.

What if we captured one of those moments and brought it, and Ephesians 1:13-14, with us to our time  with God the very next day?  What a powerful reminder of God’s mark of “mom-hood,” and positive way to launch the day.

The next time you’re struggling in a panic for “what to do,” remind yourself to be yourself.

It’s already in you.

If you need to take a lap around God’s mark, send your kids out to run one! “Practice isn’t perfect, but it can make it.

Happy #Livefree Thursday!

Megs

The Weird One

“Mom,” my seven-year-old began, “someone called me weird.”

The most precious pieces of my daughter’s heart fly gumptiously out of her mouth during our four weekly commutes to her dance studio. While the surge of adrenaline lingers alongside the remains of stale french fries and the screech of singing cats, she reveals the day’s truth.  This day was no different.  She flung her bag into the abyss of the backseat, and plopped down to catch her breath.

“Who called you weird?” I demanded.

“And Why- why did they call you that …what where you doing …when did this happen …what was your reaction…”

My mind raced alongside my blood pressure as only a mother’s does when

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…come to think of it…maybe we are a little “weird.”
the over-allotted amount of caffeine consumed that day collides with her baby enduring an injustice. In anticipation of my overprotective reaction, and predictable “turn the other cheek and be kind” lesson, she followed a quick eye-roll with profound summation beyond her years.

“I am a little weird,” she continued, “but I take it as a compliment.” I reached for the dial to turn down the “Jingle Cats.”

“What they actually mean to say is that I’m different,” she spat confidently. She lit a flattered smile and revealed, “They are actually complimenting me for being unique…and I like that.”

To think, how I might have ruined that beautiful piece of the Holy Spirit’s work with the volume of my two-sense and overprotective assault on her behalf.  I felt God’s grace quicken in my heart …

“See …you’re not doing nearly as bad as you think.”  Wink.

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Yep…we’re totally weird.
The ability to maneuver the insult maze with enough agility to cast a hateful one aside is not where my natural thought progression leads me. Instead of making light of a brooding sentiment, I park the dagger at the forefront of my thoughts.  Predictably, that fraction of negativity will seap into my brain via osmosis …become a truth I entertain, and argue with for the rest of the day. Jealous of my own daughter’s Christ-like attitude, God plucked me from my comparative seething and pulled up a memory from a week prior.

The memory’s light stirred my eyes back to the pages of my journal to a school day that ended in tear-stained cheeks over a recess battle of heart lost. Ah, second grade …when blurred lines so easily pull ugly pieces out of little girls’ hearts.

“It’s only going to get worse,” I explained in the best way I knew to

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Wait…weird is cool…and fun.
comfort her, “so you just have to figure out how not to let it affect you.”  (Confession …I often have these moments of brilliance when trying to instill wisdom upon my daughters …and then realize as the words leave my lips that I have yet to figure out how to apply them to my own life.)

My daughter and I share a gift to illuminate the love of Jesus in each others circumstances. It’s through my earnest search of God’s Word, to be the mother than leads her to Him and His truth, that I end up stumbling upon my own in our sweet bedtime conversations.

“And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered.” Matthew 10:30

“I am with you in all that you do.  At home, at school, on the playground…my Presence is always with you.“Jesus Calling 365 Devotions for Kids, Sarah Young.

It’s not uncommon for us to look up at each other jaw-dropped after we read her devo for the day.  That night concluded with a peaceful dream etched on my heart. God’s Word tuned us back into alignment with His measure of our self-worth.

“It’s like God knows how many Legos I have …like He knows how many hairs are on my head,” And at that, we fell into a pile of giggles.

“Jesus and His message were rejected… In His own Hometown. Jesus was fully man and experienced human emotions. The people who had known Him since childhood rejected Him. Friend, it’s wonderful to have a Savior who knows exactly how we feel. There isn’t an emotion we experience He can’t understand.” Wendy Pope (First 5)

The babe born in a manger, grew up feeling the same aches and joys that inhabit our hearts.  It’s easier to hold Jesus’ hand in secret comfort, than to face an all knowing and omnipresent God with our grievances.  Christmas encompasses the great generosity of the gift of approach-ability through His Son…a love every parent can relate to …a sacrifice no one can.

The sweet smiling compassion that will sit on the level of my child’s bed and laugh with us.  That is what Christmas is all about; giving generously as He gave to us.  During Advent, we prepare our hearts so that there is room for the light, love, and encouragement He speaks to us in His Word.

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Jesus was “the” weird one.  He knew it.  He embraced it.  He knew what they did not… And perhaps not all that walked in His lifetime meant it as a compliment, but he wore it as one.  His recorded conversations in the Word reveal humorous quips alongside wise convictions.  He lived among us to save us, not so that we would spend every day drowning in self-deprecation.  Kermit the Frog sang, “It’s not easy being green,” but can you imagine him being any other color?

“I take being called weird as a compliment.”

A second grader’s vocabulary is still a little limited…maybe they just can’t imagefind the word to describe how awesome my daughter is.  Or, perhaps there isn’t one.  Maybe the only one that fits her perfectly is…Brianne.

There’s only One who knows who we really are …and His name is Jesus.  Emmanuel …”God with us.”

“Wait for the Lord. Be strong and take heart and wait for the Lord.” Psalm 27:14

Happy Christmas,

Megs

The Reindeer.

IMG_8669Evil will riddle anxious sorrow unless smacked with deep, healing love.

My daughters woke up one Saturday morning ending my journal time and proudly proclaiming a pajama day.  Both in their Christmas footie jammies, they vowed to eat chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast and begged to watch “White Christmas.”  A touch early by some standards, but hard to say “no” to adorable little girls in Christmas footie pajamas.

“Mom,” my oldest pleaded, “can you PLEASE get the Christmas stuffed animals out?”

“PLEASE-PLEASE-PLEASE-PLEASE-PPPPLLLLEEEEAAAASSSSEEEE?!?!?!?!?!?!?”

Yes, they have such an obscene number of stuffed animals that we pack a portion away in an attempt to make room for them to sleep on their own beds. The “Christmas” stuffed animals remain out of sight…and out of mind…for the most part.  However, the longer my darling Brianne spends a part from her coveted Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, the more anxiety she has about needing it immediately.  Call me a Saturday morning pushover; because I made them their pancakes and headed down to the crawlspace to dig out the reindeer.

IMG_8665Sweating, and muscles cramping from being curled up to reach far away small spaces in search of Holiday craziness… I stopped mid-search to ponder the sad reality that Paris was waking up to that same Saturday morning.

The same agony felt by countless souls scattered around the globe blindsided by the same unfathomable realms of evil. It seems to overwhelm every place once treasured safe.

I needed Christmas cheer that Saturday morning.  I needed that reindeer.

“Here it is!” I proudly proclaimed as I carried a giant red tote up the basement stairs and let it land in front of my girls.

“They’re all here!” they screeched.  “Rudolph!” my Brianne sighed as she hugged her old friend.

“The Grinch!!!”  her little sister gasped, as she ran up to find an appropriate outfit for her furry green buddy.IMG_8664

The last request filled with “White Christmas” playing in the background, my daughters snuggled up and checked out into the winter wonderland of yesteryear.

The nostalgia of Bing Crosby and Rosemary Clooney singing “Snow” on a train ride stirred up feelings of joy as I pictured my Grams singing in her kitchen at Christmastime.  The beginning of the movie is set in wartime, with a scene of soldiers overseas.

It’s a different kind of war we’re fighting today.

It’s hard to picture what kind of scene we’ll be looking back upon generations from now.  Each one worse than the next.  The more unthinkable the conflict we deem unimaginable, coming to pass nonetheless.

In a world where my seven year old fears a “lock down” more than her school catching on fire.

I need a “White Christmas.”

IMG_8666Yes, it’s old fashioned.  I’m the annoying one who could listen to Christmas carols all year long, and cannot wait to sing them at a very high volume dancing in the kitchen or on the way to school with my kids.  There’s a note of hope and kindness in those songs….an unashamed proclamation of the hope that Jesus brought when he was born.  Visions of Santa Claus landing on the rooftop, the Grinch stealing presents, and a boy being left home alone.  I love it all.  Nonsensical as some of the holiday rush can be, there is always a lesson of truth hidden within yet we dare to unwrap it.

“What if I couldn’t find my sissy,” my daughters asked me after lock down drill day, tears streaming down their faces.

I can’t find the words to describe that moment.

My oldest daughter gets “belly aches” just thinking about it.  Their teachers eyes fill up with tears at the thought.  It’s a gut-punch as a mother.  A hopeless sense of innocence lost too soon.

I feel it, too, that ache for Jesus.  For Him to come down and replace everything that evil has crushed and tried to stomp out.

I need Christmas.  Yes, it’s important to give thanks in honor of our founding fathers.  But maybe, in this rapidly deteriorating world, it’s most important to give thanks to the God who inspired their trip across the ocean in the first place.  The one who’s very namesake appears in the name of the holiday.

The good I glean from the over-commercialism of Christmas is celebrating the gift of Christ to the world a little IMG_8650sooner.

More time for cheer.

More time to think of others.

More time to pack a shoe box.

More time for more people to hear about His birth.

Pass me a red cup.

If children are no longer encouraged to believe in magic, how will they ever know what God means to “have faith like a child?” (Matthew 18:3, Luke 18:17)  What sorrow to think many still do not realize they can cling to Him…

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“When a strong man, fully armed, guards his own palace, his goods are safe; but when one stronger than he attacks him and overcomes him, he takes away his armor in which he trusted and dives his spoil.”
Luke 11:21-22

Jesus IS stronger.

“Whoever is not with me is against me, and whoever does not gather with me scatters.”
Luke 11:23

I’m WITH Him.

Hearts will be harder,” stated Beth Moore in referring to the natural direction our hearts will lend to if we don’t specifically aim otherwise.

Especially after lock down drill day.

Especially after Paris.

IMG_8662Some days I just want to cling to my children over sending them off to school.  I realize that clinging to Christ is the only way I am able to drive away after they jump out of the car…“strong in the Lord and in his mighty power.” Ephesians 6:10

Clinging to Jesus as the aches and sobs well up as I drive away.

Clinging to the dream my daughter and I crafted when she was two….to share a trip to Paris someday.IMG_8663

We’ll keep dreaming that dream…yes, we will.  And though I ache for Him some days in sorrow and in fear, I have the hope that He left on the cross to cling to.

I choose to keep a death grip on love.  I’m positive on purpose.  I study His Word for encouragement.

“And you know the way to where I am going.” John 14:4

He is joy.

And it can’t be stolen.

Not by another…not by terror.

“We are wise never to overestimate or underestimate Satan’s power. But even though we are no match for him, he is no match for God….God is biding His time until His kingdom calendar has been accomplished and all who will receive His salvation are redeemed….Jesus Christ is going to take back what Satan has stolen from us!”
– Beth Moore, Portraits of Devotion, Day 166

Oh, Come, all ye faithful…

Happy Holidays…no wait…Merry Christmas.

Megs

“…let us draw near with a true heart in full assurance of faith, with our hearts sprinkled clean from an evil conscience and our bodies washed with pure water.  Let us hold fast the confession of our hope without wavering, for he who promised is faithful.  And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near.”
Hebrews 10: 22-25

 

 

 

 

Pushed.

The circle of guilt will push you around unless it’s kept in check with truth.

“Stop pushing me!”

If you have more than one kid, this is a phrase you are no doubt familiar with.

“MOM!” my little one exclaims, getting ready to launch into a string of tattles, “Bri Bri is being so mean!!!!”

Once again, my daughters decided to break out all of the behavioral stops.  In a giant crowd of people, they decided to stoop to the ground to draw in the dirt with rocks.  Soon after, they began arguing about which space was who’s…which then escalated into throwing the rocks at each other…one missing and hitting someone else in the leg.  Then, they stood up to push each other with their full strength.  After I ignored the little ones cries, she decided to take matters into her own hands…

“MOM!” my older daughter wailed, “Lo Lo just punched me in the stomach!!!”

I said my good-byes to adult conversation, and went about my way chasing my little monsters back to the van.

These situations used to happen to me a lot.  I never could figure out how to handle the embarrassment, and the watching eyes, when my little girls misbehaved in public.  When rocks started flying, that circle of guilt came rushing back in an instant, reminding me why I try to avoid exposing this kind of life strife in the first place.

“I’m a horrible mom.”IMG_8585

“Why don’t my kids listen to me?”

“I teach them manners…they get along at home…”

“What am I doing here in the first place, when I should be at home doing things with my kids?”

“They’re all going to talk about me when I turn around and leave.”

“Why am I so insecure as a person as a mother?”

“What’s wrong with the way I am that is bleeding down into a problem that my kids now have?”

“#fail.”

“I can’t do this.”

The swift walk to the car, whilst gripping bother daughter’s pinch points, would usually end with this mom taking away every privilege under the sun.  I always felt like I was losing my mind as I switched from smiling goodbyes to “most disappointed I’ve ever been in you face” so quickly my kids would laugh at first.  Which just made me even more upset and feeling disrespected.  Then another circle would begin to whir…

“How can you pray so much…read the Bible so much…go to church…listen to praise music and sermons all the time….and possess no patience to discipline your daughters with compassion?”

From one circle to the next.

That’s how life can be sometimes.  Actually, if I’m being honest, that’s how many of my days can be consumed and wasted if I allow that particular thought progression to keep gaining ground.  Over every failure, opportunity I’ve walked away from, friendship that has ended, time of life that has passed…I circle…

and circle…

and circle…

…until I’m so dizzy that I have trouble focusing on the direction God is leading me.

Life has a way of replaying the highlight real after a corner you’ve decided to turn starts to fade into the distance….shut it down.  Remain in God’s Word daily, and run to it in refuge when the outtakes feel humiliating all over again.

Circles will push you around, and there are plenty of people who will to jump on board the ship of thoughts until it’s over capacity and sinking fast.

Do not let these thoughts push you around, and don’t blame them on other people.

  1.  Running to others in doubt to find direction in their words.
  2. Letting emotions lead.
  3. Expecting others to build my confidence.
  4. Waiting to be asked.
  5. Ignoring opportunities to grow.

“Do you!” preached Pastor Steven from Elevation Church.

Do you.

IMG_8574Not what other people think you should do, or what you think another person wants you to do.  Spend the time with God and do what He wants you do to.  Listen for the few voices that encourage you…and turn up their volume.  I wish I had.

I wish I could take back a ton of decisions I made in lack of patience to wait on a sure word from God first.

A ton.

So, what to do with that circle?

Drown in the guilt?  Regret? Shame?  Keep replaying criticism until the track starts to skip?

Or, run to God.  Run it by God.  Give Him a chance to talk without interrupting.

“That’s it,” I said to my girls after the rock throwing incident ended in a stomach punched, “you’d better run!”

I took off chasing my two beautiful daughters, for-going that they just embarrassed me in a crowd of people yet again.

“I’m going to tickle torture you!!!!” I yelled and took off running after my two screeching daughters…one who dropped to the ground before I could even get to her, and the other ran just out of reach and the put up her dukes on defense.

In that moment on that day I choose not to be the crazy mom pinching my daughters all the way to the car and grounding them for the rest of their lives.  I choose instead to have compassion on them.  My daughters do so many things right every day.  They get along really well 95% of their lives.  Once in a while, the headache we all get from discipline just isn’t necessary.

And I have heard God say to me,

“Parents, don’t come down too hard on your children, or you’ll crush their spirits.” Colossians 3:21

IMG_8586God clearly stresses the importance of discipline, as well.   Proverbs 22:6 states,

“Train up a child in the way he should go, even when he is old he will not depart from it.”

But I’ve been crushed in spirit.

I’ve walked away crushed in spirit.

I’ve quit, because I just don’t feel like there’s anything left to be crushed.

God has never answered me in crushing moments with a voice of condemnation.  Never led me to a verse that said, “I told you so” even though he probably did, over and over.  In time, He’ll always show me the err of my ways and help me grow out of that stage of my life.  Help me apologize if I need to…humbly go back and finish what I quit if it’s His will.   But never, no never, in times of crisis of heart, is He a Father lacking compassion for the child He loves so immensely.

I’m that child.  You’re that child.

Turn that voice up.

Let those thoughts  push you around.

Live in that circle.

Happy Tickle-Torturing,

Megs

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Trees.

IMG_8163Life’s climb can seem hopelessly steep if we don’t stop to look down at how far we’ve come.

“Look!” my little Kindergartner exclaimed.  “There’s a letter ‘d’ there, and a letter ‘D’ there…” she trailed on, pointing out all of the letter D’s on her homework paper.

My children’s homework often feels like my homework, and in the two years between my daughters, I had forgotten about how particularly tedious Kindergarten homework is for this mom.

Instead of following along the rows of letters, my number two child was skipping all over the page like we had all day to get the page done and move onto the next.

“OK, now I’m going to time you to see how many you can name in a minute,” I explained to her.

“NO!!!!!!!!!” She immediately retorted, her face all scrunched up (scrunchy face…yep, it has a name) and every limb flailing in protest.

Now, I knew the timing element was going to cause a problem, because this little one is a sore loser.  Throws an absolute fit every time she loses a race, a game, etc.  In fact, to evade the meltdown, I had only been timing her in secret up to this point.  But in the middle of a busy dance studio waiting room, at the end of an already exhausting day, I simply was not in the mood for her cutesy dilly-dallying.

“Yep,” I stated.  “Ready, set, go.”

She read the letters as the time ticked down, and I noticed her nervousness slowing her down.  When the timer ran out and the beep alert sounded, she still had two rows left.

“Great job, Lo!” I congratulated.

“I HATE WHEN YOU TIME ME!” she cried, and began to throw a fit in that same crowded waiting room.

I pulled her onto my lap and gave her the hug she needed, and then tried to reason with a five year old after 5 o’clock…

“It’s OK if you don’t get them all in a minute right away,” I said, “the first time we did sight words you knew one, and now you know over twenty I bet.”

Over and over I tried to explain to this overtired child that she was simply going through the process of learning.  As I escorted her out of the waiting room, threatening to take her home instead of to the all so coveted gymnastics class she so dearly loves, the panic ensued.  In fact, it got worse.  No matter how I tried to comfort her, never yelling (Holy Spirit- props) or giving her mean looks or threatening to make her run laps…she continued to wail.

Why is it so hard for us to look back and see how far we’ve come?7EFA3701-5CE4-4511-B97D-AC72AFC3C451One of my favorite track coaches in high school used to make me do ten push-ups for every one time I looked back during my race.  I was a miler, and something about hearing my competition’s spikes smack the track behind me always motivated me to throw in a burst of speed.  It always frustrated my coaches that I wouldn’t just give my best without knowing who’s nipping at my heals, and my little chicken arms paid for it after every race.  I looked back a lot.

Flipping through my Dad’s old cassette tapes, I stumbled onto the song “Don’t Look Back,” by Boston.  Against all of my natural impulses; that became my theme song.

Throughout my life, that’s what I’ve tried to do.

“Don’t look back,” at all of the mistakes…

Turn the page on all the “yucky” parts of life that I wish I could take back.

Justify any hurt I’ve caused…

But never…no never…look back.

“Humble yourselves before the Lord, and He will exalt you.” James 4:10

The first ten verses of that chapter serve as a gut-check to me.

Be humble.

So obsessed, am I, with all the failure in my life….all of the things that I can’t figure out…the personality flaws that haunt me daily…and people…

As one of the pastors at my church preached one Sunday, “People are annoying.”

Amen.

I annoy myself, thank you.  A lot.

We spend so much time comparing our lives to Facebook news feeds…so much time beating ourselves up over our imperfection…that we forget…or maybe you don’t know…

“For God, Who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,” made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.” 2Chronicles 4:6

Look back.IMG_8083

Mistakes are woven into the flesh of life.

Look back.

Marvel at how far you’ve come.

Don’t let yourself forget that God loves you immensely. He gave up His only son.  Would you do that for anybody?  I wouldn’t.  People are annoying, right?  God uses the imperfect in all of us, but especially in some of us.  Remember the story of Jacob, and if you don’t, visit the book of Genesis and soak it all in again.

Life is tough.  Marriage is no cake walk.  Parenting is a nightmare.  I don’t get it.  I mess it up.  Daily.  But…look back.

“…Rejoice that your names are written in heaven.” Luke 10:19-20

Through all the pain…all of the struggles…so much strife…God has given us Jesus so we may draw near to Him throughout the experience of life on this earth.  The more days I live, the more I depend on that companionship for survival.

Look back.  Use what you have learned to grow.

Praise God, I have a few people in this life that I can fall a part in the midst of and they don’t run for the other side of the city.  You know who you are.  And I’ll never be able to express what angels on earth you are in my life.0797C20B-9025-4765-BA1C-50F6009E3A13

And then there’s my husband, who has loved me through one trauma after another.  Sometimes I don’t know why…maybe he owes it to me for stealing a decade of sleep with his snoring…most days I know he’s a blessing to my life.  Some days we go through life joyful one minute, and frantic the next….then sad the next…then happy the next.  But we go through it.  We get through it.  Moment by moment.  Day by Day.  Year by year…until almost a decade married has flown by.

Happy Birthday, Jimmy.

I love you.

Look back…at how far…we’ve come.

Happy Lasagna-Land,

Megs