A Worthy Life

embracing warm winds and chicken wings

 

This week the weather is inching closer to what one would expect of spring, by the weekend we should have full blown bliss. Earlier this week we went outside to exercise our 10 day old chicks and capture the first swings of the season. I don't have a picture of me with the kids but after shooting a few of them, the would-be photographers turned the camera on their tired mama who had slipped back into bummy wear and her standard ponytail while steal wearing dangling vestiges of her brief time in fancier get-up.

Here's to bending the embracing rules just a tad and to the return of spring!

planting life

Last week at Emmanuelle's impromptu sleepover, I was kept on my toes making sure it was one to remember. On top of special snacks, a run to the drug store for a guest toothbrush, a late night movie, and full day of fun, this momentous occasion called for a token craft that would serve to remind of the memories made long after the fun was over.

With some pre-painted pots already on hand and some newly bought crepe paper, we created little faux pinatas holding secret treasure. After filling with sun warmed earth, we planted paper embedded with seeds and sprinkled with water.

I've been thinking a lot these days about this great and sometimes heavy responsibility we carry as mothers. How it isn't enough to dress our kids up pretty or polish up their external manners if we aren't just as busy working on growing beauty and strength on the inside.

The last few weeks, while filled with memorable moments of joy and glimmers of victory, have been tough. I've been at times discouraged at the fruit I see in my children, wondering if I'm planting well. I've been challenged to evaluate my approach to many aspects of my mothering and teaching (because they go so daily hand in hand), studying to improve the things that don't come easy for me, wanting to model better the things that are hard for them.

These days slip into years and I realize that the discipline of each day grants a harvest that will exposed through the years. What I do and teach in these moments becomes who they are in that moment when they are released for life on their own.

While I cannot do the becoming and I cannot do the choosing, I can prepare the soil and I can plant the seeds. Seeds of kindness, seeds of justice, seeds of truth, seeds of creativity. I can give them the opportunity now to grow the rewards of self-discipline, of hard work, of an earnest education.

Because I want to present them to the world as more than a pretty face with a keen sense of fashion (not that this wouldn't be the cherry on top! ;). I want them to go forward towards their life purposes with a wealth of knowledge and the confidence that it will take to go against the prevalent tides of apathy and passivity.

And that? That right there is going to require work, mama. Hard work and discipline, but most of all a deep and abiding love that drives you to your knees and drives your children to your arms. This life isn't all about me. So much of it is about them and how we invest our love and life for theirs.

I don't want to arrive at the fast approaching end of eighteen years thinking, where did the time go? I want to redeem it now, in moments of flower pot crafts and heart to heart conversations in the kitchen, in discipline for their studies and personal passions, in whispers of correction and embraces of forgiveness.

Because I only have them for such a short time and one soon day will only observe from the distance, watching to see...how will they bloom?

my grace, my hope, my christian man, my joy

This post is sponsored by these faces who made today's celebration possible...

Tonight I am readying for bed with a full heart. I am grateful to have mothered these eternal gifts for the years that I have, relieved that my husband has full faith in my heart and ability to mother them, and reminded how my own mother has shaped and influenced me for this role.

Perhaps because of all of this I'm finding writing this post difficult because I somehow long to document every blessing and lesson I've learned in motherhood and have ever had modeled for me. I long to celebrate that I am no longer this mom, that I have learned that before I am asked to share my special day, to offer it up gladly, willingly to share it this year with a single mom and a mother far away from her children. I wish I could convey the honor of being absent from my husband tonight so that he could accompany his mother in a late night trek across the border for a one hour visit to a dying friend when in his heart he would rather be home. I want to tell the world how my own mother has defied all odds by mothering triumphantly and sacrificially when her mother never did the same for her. I somehow want to trace out the entire trajectory of my mothering days so that I can continue to appreciate and celebrate what all that God is doing in and through me along this journey.

And yet there are four people who have shaped me in this swollen silhouette of mother more than any others. They are the ones responsible for me becoming mama.

Eliana, my eldest, my oft repeated prayer for a baby answered, has taught me so much about grace, the unimaginable blessing that comes even when I don't deserve it. This weekend while on a family jaunt, her papa pointed out a Ferrari, explaining the incredible value this car has. Answering quickly, she said, "Papa, that is what men buy because they think it will impress mama because she is so beautiful. When they see her with you and us, they want to be with her. But mama only ever wanted you!" Naive perhaps but oh the grace! when your child sees you, always the real you and still believes you to be the most beautiful woman in the world!

Eden is my constant whisper of hope. She is the one perhaps most like me as a child, wiry and wily while walking a fine line between humor and utter foolishness. That was so me, and the frustration I've heard in the voices of so many loving teachers I hear now in mine - willing her to focus her energy, begging her to choose wisely, and matching her every apology with the sincerity with which she gives it. She is my reminder that God was faithful to me, that He will be faithful to her. Her goofy self-captured home videos exude with life and an ever entertaining perspective on her world and I know that she has been perfectly composed for incredible purpose.

Jacob is my Christian man, a tiny body heavy with a heart for God. There is none who sings worship louder, none who proclaims the truth louder than this future pastor and engineer. Somehow he recognizes that it's not enough to preach the good news, you have to live it out in daily trenches filled with aching souls. His spirit so tender and sensitive teaches me to have the same by refusing to be hardened by the cruel realities of life. He is certainly his father's son but his mother's pride and joy.

Emmanuelle is joy. Period. A tornado of energy and passion, she pushed her way into the world too early but in so doing proved that nothing, not even her mama's protective womb, could keep her from her life's mission. She is still the baby, still small enough for midnight cuddles tucked into a bed only built for one. When I take this life, this calling too seriously, she is my comedic and dramatic relief that pulls me back into moments of bliss and beauty amid scattered markers and mayhem.

Tonight my life and home are full of the miracles of life, the gifts of a benevolent Father who knew how each would breathe into my heart the sweet reminders of amazing love. Tonight I am worn out with blessing, my ears still ringing with the honor of hearing, "Goodnight, mama!"

weekend worthy

         

Happy weekend all and a special shout out to all the babies' mamas and this mama's mama! Just a few links this weekend but plenty to inspire and get you thinking/creating/singing!

• I love the blog A Beautiful Mess but this? This is beautiful genius...a simple DIY DIM (done in minutes;). A trip to the thrift store is in order tomorrow and on the way I think I'll rock out to my favorite beats trying to decide which lyrics to use for this!

• Tomorrow we're celebrating mothers but Father's Day is right around the corner. This personalized scrapbook is perfect for letting your child document their special relationship with dad. Best part? It's free, glrorious free!

• I love virtual shopping via etsy and this week stumbled on a new favorite shop. Pen and Paint creates beautiful sketches of inspirational quotes and happy household items. Plus the artist's blog is a fun place to catch inspiration, a few DIYs, and the occasional freebie like this free spring printable.

• We first heard of Jayme Dee years ago through her support of 31 Bits but have been following her rising star ever since. Her song Rules was on the Hunger Games soundtrack (side note: this soundtrack is AMAZING!! The CIvil Wars, The Decemberists, Arcade Fire, Punch Brothers, Maroon 5, and Taylor Swift all on one album...perfection!), she's already performed twice at the iconic Roxy Theatre, and she just announced a Canadian tour date with Owl City on July 9. I have a vague suspicion I have something already booked that weekend but here's to hoping I'm Toronto bound instead!

• In other music news, Lecrae has a Church Clothes mixtape downloadable for free. I know, it's crazy...I love indie, mainstream pop, and yet still foster a deep love affair with rap. I own it: I'm messed up and so too will be my poor schizophonic children!

• Oh, and one more because it's on the list of things to do on my mother's day! (Ok, so I lied that this one would be short!) We've had way too much little people drama lately in our home so I made the executive decision to restrict all over-the-top hysterics to the stage! In real life, no drama or acting the victim in order to get others in trouble. In real life, I want real. But on the stage - act it out, girl! The kids liked this newly invented therapy so we will of course have to go big and pull out some very chic stage curtains for the doorway!

Looking forward to a special M-day brunch with some great moms tomorrow! So thankful for this calling...I've finally found a passion worth a lifelong pursuit!

i am mama

Until last night, I had almost forgotten how necessary I am.

Finding myself in a week full of insecurities about my lack of academic credentials and my long list of professional disqualifications to fight on the front lines of injustice, my role in this world seemed so very small.

My wake-up call came right before lights out. We were transitioning one man child from snuggles in mama's bed to a full night's sleep in his when his belly erupted in fits and bursts.

Bent over toilet, rinsing soiled sheets where no muddy fingers or wrinkled toes would ever touch, I realized this was a uniquely mother skill. Without pausing to think or ask about the hows and wheres of taking care, I just moved in the rhythm of mother.

Hours earlier, I had extended an impromptu invitation for my youngest's inaugural sleepover and I helped foster friendship for a lonely daughter.

Pulling kids from under beds retreating from their world to sulk, I had breathed confidence and possibility back into deflated hearts.

Listening through insulated walls for the rise and fall of congested chests, I am mama with superhero powers.

Bending low to rest her head on mine, patiently I teach the crunching of numbers so there is no punching of walls.

Good mothers have these skill sets, but these are not set skills.

The learning curve is exponential, on-the-job training an ever constant education. They are no more intrinsic than they are limiting; they are strengths and gifts sought out and applied to young hearts and lives, the continual birthing of life metamorphosing into beauty and strength within the bosom of a mother.

The world needs us, the world needs mothers such as you and me. Growing wee ones by our professions of love, we offer into world the fruit of our profession...

We are, I am...mama.

Joining here today, in 5 minutes writing on what comes to heart and mind when I consider Identity.

mommy madame abolitionist

While doing my lazy workout on the stationery bike in the basement today, I watched a recorded Anderson show from last week. The subject for discussion was a current case in New York about a Mommy Madam being held in Rikers Jail with a set bail of $2 million because of charges against her for allegedly running a high-end prostitution ring.

Normally this is not the kind of news I want to wake up to. Normally it's the kind of news I would switch past and try to erase from memory because the idea of discussing the dark deviations of sex outside of marriage is something I can't stomach. Nor was it a subject I ever saw myself turning towards rather than away from.

This weekend all that changed.

This weekend I was among hundreds of attendees at the Justice Summit, a day of educational and empowering presentations, workshops, and testimonies from heroes of the faith who were willing to not turn away, willing to not click away when they were presented with the realities of millions of lives exploited through sexual slavery.

The statistics are staggering, the realities difficult to comprehend when tucked inside the safe comforts of suburbia while living under a judicial system that strives for equal justice for every human being. Even while hearing the truth, the details seem like a horror story too terrible to be true.

Until you see the faces.

Until you see the faces of young women and boys, of a 6 year old girl working a lollipop between a seductively rolling tongue on a street corner, faces that are sold and traded and abducted as soul-filled sex toys, they are merely a statistic. But when you see the small faces and tiny bodies of your own daughters mirrored in the images of these victims, your heart bleeds as you discern that the profound difference between them is evident when you look into their eyes...

Broken spirits looking out from behind invisible chains.

So today, I did not turn away. I tried to listen and ascertain what my own country, my own culture, my own peers would have to say about a mother charged with the abetting of depraved activity. I tried to fit what I had heard on Saturday, that everyone used for sex is a victim, with what I saw today, present day call girls advocating for the right to willingly participate in this personal abuse.

When the audience applauded one former madam's admission that she would take cash or credit card, that she would take the profit any which way it came, I wondered that they didn't recognize that the true price was paid from deep within a woman's soul, a deposit dredged up from the constant emptying of her spirit.

Today I did not turn away from what made me uncomfortable. Today I did not shy away from the terror of injustice.

Today I decided that while there are still mommy madams, as sure as the hell their victims live in, there will be mommy advocates.

I will be among the relative few who no longer refuse to go there, who no longer opt out of acquainting myself with their grief and sharing in their suffering. I will be among the few opposing the many who justify all sorts of perverse sexual entertainment without seeing their justifications of personal pleasure and profit as a choke-hold of injustice against their playthings and their prey.

So listen up, you madams and pimps and johns, it is time for you to recognize that your days are numbered. It is time for you to meet the new women in town, the ones you may address respectfully as Mommy Madame Abolitionist.

We are the mothers of sons and daughters who will teach our children about the divine beauty of sex and about the honor the act demands. We will educate our children about the monsters who would prey on them, preparing them now for freedom that you will not steal away.

And for the many voiceless victims that you now hold in your grip, we will pursue and we will pray. We will fight to eradicate slavery and bring just recompense to those who stole away the justice of millions.

Even against such staggering statistics, the odds are in our favor as we have the Father of all on our side.

This Mom and Pops team, this mobilization of God's children, we're ready and coming for you. So be forewarned, because it's already been promised that not even the gates of hell can nor will prevail against us...

weekend worthy

Hello, folks! After a lengthy hiatus, weekend worthy links are back for your weekend-relaxing perusal!

• I'm a major list keeper so this helpful chart of ideas for capturing precious moments with your kiddos is right up my alley! Printing off and sticking to the fridge...

• We're having a tough time this week among siblings with the basics, especially speaking kind words. This free printable is a beautiful reminder of the power of our words to each other!

• I have a serious addiction to Instagram and all photos taken with the ever handy iPhone! When great quality and convenience can fit in the palm of your hand, who can be bothered with the other camera that weighs a ton?! This weekend I plan on displaying some of our favorite vacation pics in a collage and blowing up the best poster-size!

• Every so often I get a sudden urge to purge and organize in the kids' rooms. With new room assignments, we need to repaint and re-accessorize each for the gender occupying the space. This hand-stitched embroidery is so beautiful I'm thinking of using it as my springboard for colors in the girls' room.

• For the unisex room with bunk beds, anything and everything from this vintage etsy shop tops my wish list. Happily discovered today that the curator of this shop also has a blog!

• Between vacation downtime and my recent "fasting" from evening tv, I'm finally checking books off my must-read list. One of my favorites: Outliers, by Malcolm Gladwell. Fascinating and challenging, this has motivated some major changes in the way I pursue life and approach homeschooling. While I don't agree with his sometimes narrow view of success, there are plenty of applications I can use towards the values by which I determine success. Cannot recommend this book enough!

I'm off this weekend to the Justice Summit and can't wait to hear specifics about how I can engage in modern day abolition. My detective neighbor and her police coworker are coming with me so hopefully they too can pick up a few tips on how to stop the perpetrators while providing sanctuary for the victims right here within our city.

imaginary friends

It's a labor of love these sisters share - imaginary friends they create, customize, and control. Their names, their looks, and their personalities all a hybrid of ingenuity and necessity, a mash-up of real life friends tweaked to perfection.

What they love, they keep. What they want, they add.

These friendships, these imaginary companions keep them occupied for some time, an exercise in a world of their own making with relationships of their own choosing. Any hurts are dramatized, the pleasure stilted and choreographed.

None of it like the real thing, for better or for worse.

As I watch them, I think about how much this, their scripted interaction with invented confidantes, mirrors our own fascination with our online lives, our online presence, platform, and populace. We want followers and friends, on facebook, twitter, Instagram, or blogs - come as you are, whoever you are...just please, please! like me and the stuff I say and do.

My posse I can name, sounding out my loyalties to friends in a roster where all begin with @ or end in .com. These? These are the friends I wish I had in real life, this collage of characters most like me or who I wish I was, the ones whose words and lives and pictures appeal to the isolation in my soul.

In a world of lonely lives and hurting hearts, we disperse from the masses to solitude in our homes staring at concocted kaleidoscopes of realities, self-edited prisms of truth and perspective, hoping to make a connection.

Needing community, we take to the keys. Longing for purpose, we pursue our platforms.

And this, this virtual world of beautiful people and like-minded kindred kith add to our life in infinite ways - widening our perspectives, stretching our understanding, challenging our fantastical perceptions, and even giving us volume to the voice we carry inside.

Yet in some ways they too are a mash-up of desire, an alternate reality of our own making for our specific choosing. It's less evasive to thrash out hurts in a space where my tears are hidden; it's cathartic to admit my foibles and failures without the threat of accountability or repercussion. It's far easier to pen my life story than to actually act out my convictions for a live audience.

We are emboldened by those who click a thumbs up for their acceptance of us even as we still wake to a lonely reality.

For all the promise that virtual community holds, for better or for worse, nothing can replace the real thing, especially for the better, especially when others around you are longing for you to offer your best.

A digital :) titillates, a full-face smile over shared corner booth warms. Hugs and kisses tapped out in text are whispers of love, an embrace that surrounds and holds me tall when I can hardly stand screams that there is someone here for me. "With you in spirit" is the next best thing, but "present with you" is what we most long for.

An invitation to dinner while my husband is away, an email that grants me "permission to speak into (her) life" as a friend journeys a difficult road chosen for her by another, a muffled cry telephoned for help from down the road, a poolside catch-up that reminds how much she has blessed my life, ...these are the realities I long for, the messy and tired worst that often bring forth the better and the deeper. No hiding who we are, no shrinking back from where God has placed us, using our voice, our gifts, our strength, our passion to create community here, right where we are, right where lonely hearts are longing.

The sisters planned for and played in their world for long moments soaking up the gift of the other. This is what I want for them throughout their lives: friendship among kin, created harmony amid inevitable chaos, and a sincere appreciation for the melding of broken lives into kindred spirits.

This is the reality I want, I crave, I need. Navigating reality with transparent authenticity with flesh and blood in my home, in my neighborhood, and in my circle of influence, this is why I was placed here for such a time for such as these.

 

vacation hangover

I fell back into reality this morning with a loud thump on my bedroom floor after my body refused to rise on it's own. It's not our first day back after a week alone without the kids (alone, without the kids...can I get a hallelujah?!) but it was the first day I was making a solid attempt at a full day's work. I tried yesterday but after a good start and a noon trip back to the gym I passed out in bed where I spent the rest of the afternoon semi-sleeping.

Life is tough but returning to life after a blissful week of alone/girls'/husband time? Near impossible. Thankfully my children are cherubs in a dress rehearsal for heaven so they had me missing them and hugging the living daylights out of them the moment I hopped out of the taxi! ;)

Two amazing things happened on this trip:

one. two old, dear girlfriends flew out from their new homes in California and hung out with me for a full day while I was in Vegas. Bosom buddies, these are girls that will be dear hearts for life and they made this old lady feel like the richest woman on the strip with an entourage who had their hearts set more on catching up than on site seeing. Together we toured the street, taking in the Eiffel Tour and a Dutch garden, drawing in quick breaths before launching in to the next laugh or stuffing our faces full of rich treats. I love these girls, friends you can invite up to your hotel room and swap clothing and accessories with comfort, even with your husband bearing witness to it all! Mon and Kat, you are part of my story and I cannot wait to see what adventures are still being birthed in our tales together!

two. I had my husband's undivided attention for 3 whole, beautiful days (not an easy feat for any man when in the city of sin!). Never since our courtship days (for two virgins, the honeymoon is really only about one thing, c'mon!) have we had such fun exploring and discovering more of our world and each other. Over long, leisurely dinners we talked without pause. We walked hand in hand, proudly displaying our commitment and affection for each other; reminiscing about the past days, longing for those yet coming. In a world of so many, many billions, to have found one who not only loves you, but continually chooses you day after day even with distraction and temptation all around, that is a gift. No phone calls, no emails, no child whose need is pressing. Just us. Grocery shopping for our suite, hiking dusty trails, sneaking into a Vegas show, conspiring in shopping for secret souvenirs for the kids, finally letting loose in faux profanity high atop the Hoover Dam (not usually a potty mouth but I had to use the dam bathrooms!), drinking in the beauty of nature and the goodness and grace of my Jesus to have brought us here together to these moments...every bit of it a gift.

Not that every day was perfect. I managed to not speak for almost an entire day, an exercise in restraint modeled often by my husband, as a lesson to the same that I.need.resolution. and quick goodnight kisses are not adequate band-aids to what oft plagues this woman's heart. But when I did finally speak? I failed that model of manly restraint and let loose in an effort of forced resolution on my terms. (And yes, I may have used dam in that conversation even though we were no longer above Hoover.Dam!)

Above photos, drinking it all in through my iPhone: O'Hare airport, always lovely; me, waiting for my trip in the clouds; is there anything more beautiful than our world?!; no, really. is there?; snow-topped mountains; our mugs in the elevator; my buddies; traveling to France together; now we're back in Holland; for real, see that beautiful bike and tulips??; Monet, come.to.life!; our afternoon at the Mirage pool; Vegas at dusk; where the fancy schmancy vacation while in Vegas; Nike: "Erect no artificial walls that might limit potential, stifle creativity, or shackle innovation."; inspiration for my garden; Sirens at TI; Louis Vuitton colorful product staging; Paul Frank store; the strip from a distance; New York New York; old mining town for kids' play; gorgeous!; hike up to the Emerald Pools in Zion National Park; Zion from a distance; Zion up closer; Dam I'm high up!; best chocolate factory @ Bellagio; in Venice; sneaking into Dancing with the Stars; maybe the highlight of the trip: getting m&ms personalized with the kids' names!; most of the high-priced stores held little appeal for me but Stella McCartney could be my bestie any day!; Lady Liberty, in jellybeans.

 

writing my story

Last week we had some amazing discussion within our small (only 3 couples) small group! Questions were raised by others and resurfaced for me at least some of the doubts and even despair that have accompanied me lately in my journey of faith.

Questions about God's ultimate plan of salvation: why some choose Jesus and not all? why create all if He knew only some would believe?

Even while my husband and I rewatched Passion of the Christ, I wanted, needed to know that redemption for Judas Iscariot was possible. Try googling that and you start hopping from one rabbit trail to the next, all the while your initial question growing into a colossal conundrum of truth vs. what I want so desperately to be.

This season of faith frustration when the questions seem to outnumber the answers is, I hope, just that: a season. But I don't want to shy away from it or try to brush away the doubts under the rug while appearing as if I have it all figured out.

These moments too are part of the story and journey of my life and I want to record them so I can clearly see in retrospect the mysteries revealed that are yet hidden in real time.

I came across this old email to a peer today and realized I had almost lost this lesson in the annals of time:

Sometimes Christians put all the emphasis on God as if He isn't pro-choice; that is, that He would rarely be a cosmic dictator who forces us into every decision, every circumstance, and every experience in our lives. (If that were the case, we could have done without the NT which is full of instruction, encouragement, and exhortation on how to run this race of life.) By understanding our place in His-story, we are compelled to do all we can to bring Him glory in the choices we make that ultimately compile our life. 

While reading books, they become almost a personal journal for me. I read with a pen in hand, ready to underline and record the thoughts that challenged me or the ideas that I want to spend more time on. One sentence in particular that I marked was this:

"We get robbed of the glory of life because we aren't capable of remembering how we got here." From Donald Miller's A Million Miles in a Thousand Years

This is perhaps the strongest sentiment that persuades me to blog: through recording my thoughts and remembering my life's moments, I am providing myself, and maybe one day my children, with a road map full of the reasons why I took certain detours and what fueled me as I navigated certain difficult areas in my life. Reading of others' lives through their blogs has also given me the confidence that I am not alone in my thoughts, my struggles, my dreams, etc. 

My husband and I shared some precious moments together last night discussing what the point of our lives is, what our family's legacy would be. We shared thoughts each of us have recently been mulling over in our hearts and minds, "What are we going to do with our lives?" Are we going to be sucked into the keeping up with the Jones' mentality? Is our joy found in our luxury vehicle and above standard living? Where does the time, our time, go? What are we hoping to impart to our children, because it is largely our example that will teach them? 

Breaking apart from this world's mold takes choice. It takes the courage to write our life story, to refuse the culture and our peers the opportunity to shape our life's trajectory. We want to change the world! But how? Will it be through our community outreach? Will it be through deciding as a couple to live off less so we can give more? Will it be through opening our home to our neighbors so that we can invite them into our lives and pray that somehow, someway our Hope is welcomed into theirs? Or will it be through a larger sacrifice, one that costs us everything?

I don't want to fall victim to the thief of time, the one that tries to rob us of value and potential because we simply cease to ponder our position in this life. I want my life and purpose to be greater and deeper next year than where it is today. And that takes a certain amount of questioning. Culling out the vital from all the viable options.

In faith, we must make decisions. In life, we must live them out.

Where my life is ultimately headed depends in large part on my faith and so I choose to seek out truth that will drive me to my destination.