born to be a mom

it isn't mother's day, but lately i've been contemplating what it means to be a mom, and reflecting on my own experiences.  i'm approaching the "empty nest" phase of my life...which has definitely caused some new thought processes in this brain of mine.

i'm pretty sure i've wanted to be a parent since i was around 7 or 8 years old. i loved babies and toddlers. i remember how my sister and i used to fight over who got to hold our baby cousin. there was so much joy to see her face light up in recognition as she would reach her chubby baby arms out for me to hold her. knowing a baby wanted me to hold her made my heart sing.

because i didn't always have access to real babies, my dolls from my childhood are not so pretty anymore. i took them everywhere. i loved spending time in the woods, but my dolls usually had to go with me. i built teepees out of leafy branches, and i would mix up concoctions of berries and shredded leaves to keep my little family well fed as we survived the harsh climate of our wilderness home.  when i was called to come back into the house, my scuffed and dirty dolls needed their baths, of course.  i'm afraid these poor offspring of mine weren't created to hold up under my frequent shampoos and scrubbings. i still have my two favorite dolls tucked away, and their limbs are scuffed, and their hair is nearly gone. but oh, the adventures we had together. as i held these babies close, i dreamed of the day when i would hold my own babies...babies whose smile wasn't frozen in place. babies whose face lit up when they saw me...babies whose chubby little arms reached for me, and who would wrap those little arms tightly around my neck. but that day seemed so far away....

now, decades later...i look back on those days with fondness, but shake my head at my naïveté. don't get me wrong, having three children has been an incredible blessing. i will never forget the day...after 24 long, difficult hours of labor, they placed my little squirming daughter into my arms, and her little hand brushed across my face...i was filled with such total joy and satisfaction. this was the day i had longed for...my baby wasn't hard plastic, with damaged hair and missing eyelashes...this was my own sweet angel, with soft warm skin, and delicate wispy hair, and pretty blue eyes that soon recognized her mommy's face, and whose little arms reached for me, and wrapped around my neck. and i will never forget the same joy as my two sons were born over the next years. i remember the first time holding them...the first time i could see they knew who i was, and how they wanted their mommy.

but it was a bit more work than those dolls of mine. when i tucked those dolls into bed, they stayed there smiling, eyes closed, until i picked them up again. and they didn't get sick...they were scuffed and worn, but they didn't get fevers.  they didn't spend a terrifying and sleepless week in the hospital with a viral infection. they didn't fall and get bumps and bruises...or get rushed to the hospital for X-rays and stitches. they didn't have tears streaming down their faces as i cleaned wounded knees and elbows. they didn't grow up, and take that first heart wrenching step onto the big yellow bus. they didn't experience broken hearts when they first felt rejected by a friend. 

but they also didn't giggle and dance and hug my neck. their eyes didn't light up at the Christmas lights. they didn't have little cherub voices that asked questions and said " i love you, mommy" on days when they had no idea how much this mommy needed those words. they didn't grow up to become talented, loving and serving adults (and nearly adults) who have made the world a better place...and are shining their own lights in a dark world ...like my 3 babies have. i was always meant to be a mommy. and i have found no satisfaction like being a wife and mother to the amazing family God has allowed me to enjoy.

but when the scuffed knees turn into scuffed hearts...when the illnesses become adult sized. when there is man-sized pain, and adult broken hearts, and first steps into their own car, or into their first apartment... when i watch my adult child face real battles...when i know sometimes i need to just step back and let it happen...and try to figure out when to get involved...when the storm in their lives becomes way too intense and real...then i wonder if i was ever really strong enough to be a mom.  these three living "dolls" that God has entrusted us with... aren't plastic. we can't just tuck them into bed and they will remain unchanged, with hard plastic smiles. these are three amazing individuals, with numerous abilities, and talents and dreams...and their own futures to face. my mommy heart beats faster and harder at the thought. 

i think what frightens me most is the realization of all the things i should have said or done, of all the things i shouldn't have said or done...that caused damage or inhibited growth...or sent them down a wrong path...even if just for a minute. i sometimes wish i could start over...and be the mommy they really needed...not the flawed mommy they got. my dolls were pretty worn out by the time i finally quit playing with them. but i pray that God will heal any scuffs and scars i caused in my living, breathing dolls. i pray He strengthens them and guides them as they take those steps into their own futures...and down those paths where things will trip them up and scuff their knees, and break their hearts, and make them ask the big questions. i pray that they will know that they are loved, and will be a blessing to everyone they encounter...in spite of the bad example their mama displayed at times. and i am beyond grateful for a husband who can be there with me to counter my mistakes, and walk with me through this journey of parenting.  i realize not everyone has a close partner like i have, and i'm grateful for the undeserved blessing.

i was naive as i dreamt of being a mommy. but i know i was born to be one.  as i watch my three beautiful babies grow into beautiful adults...through every scuffed knee, through every challenge faced, through the dark times and late night tears and fears...i realize that they aren't really mine. they belong to their Heavenly Father, who loves them with a perfect love...and has perfect plans for each of them. 

in the shadow

I love the sunlight. i grew up in the appalachian mountain range, in western maryland. i was much too familiar with cold. to me, it seemed as though winter would never end, and i hated being cold.  it made me hurt, and shivering was a state of torture for me. I remember, as a child, how much I loved the feel of the sunlight pouring through the window on a cold icy day. I'd sit next to the window, my face turned up to feel the full warmth.  I would close my eyes tight, and silently wish that when I opened my eyes...the snow would be gone, and the grass would be green again.  so when spring finally came, and I could finally run outside in my bare feet...I was ecstatic.  my mom has a photo of me, lying face down, with my cheek pressed firmly on the sidewalk in front of our house.  i was about three years old, but I still remember how much I was loving the sensation of the sun-warmed stones against my skin.  I avoided shadows as much as possible on those days.  I wanted to soak in the sun...soak it into every pore.  those shadows were chilly.  I wanted them banished from my front yard.

so now I live in georgia...and there is plenty of warmth to go around. and I do love it..there are times I sit in my screened-in porch, when it is 100 degrees out, and I soak in the heat...feeling it in my bones...and it feels healing. the rest of my family...in the air conditioned shelter of the house...peer at me from the windows, shaking their heads. I do love to be warm.  but I have to admit, there are those scorching-not-a-cloud-in-the-sky kinda' days in atlanta...where I just can't take the sun beating down on me anymore.  it's not often in the south that you are more than a few feet from a powerful air conditioner...but when I climb on my bike for a long ride in the georgia summer...the heat can quickly become overwhelming.  the sun can be relentless.  the water in my water bottle may start out icy cold, but within minutes...it seems...it has become bath water. I reach a point where I'm not sure i can push those pedals one more revolution.  on those days, shadows are my best friends.  my tired squinting eyes can finally relax. there is nothing like sprawling out on the grass in the shade of a big tree on days like this...hidden from the pounding heat of the sun's rays.

I read a verse in psalm 63 this morning that speaks of a shadow.  but this shadow is not the kind of shadow that i want forever banished...this is the shadow that I long for on those relentlessly hot sunny georgia days.  david wrote this psalm when he was in exile...either from king saul, or from his own son, both whom wanted him dead.  he is in the wilderness, and writes about being "in a dry and parched land where there is no water." he is crying out...seeking God...thirsting for Him.  he writes, 

⁷ "because you are my help,
    I sing in the shadow of your wings.
⁸ I cling to you;
    your right hand upholds me."

although I love warmth, the relentless pounding heat of troubles and battles can make me weak, tired and thirsty. I am well aware that the battles and troubles I face are mild compared to what some have faced, and are facing. I certainly am not in a situation like david...i don't have a father-in-law or a son hunting me down to destroy me.  but that doesn't diminish the heat and exhaustion I sometimes feel. there have been some battles....and sometimes I'm pretty sure I don't have the energy to push those pedals one more revolution. I have learned that i just have to stop...and rest in the shadow.  and the only shadow that soothes is the shadow of my heavenly Father's wings.   my squinting eyes can rest.  I can lie down in the grass...close my eyes...and breathe deep again.  I've needed that shadow more than ever this year. I've run to it a lot.  it's been a hot ride, and my legs have needed a lot of breaks. but I can always find that shadow...and in it I am helped and upheld. i admit that I'm not always so quick to sing in the shadow, as david did here. I tend to curl into a ball, and feel sorry for myself. I need to be more like david...realizing that I am loved, and sheltered...and guarded from the relentless heat by some powerful and gentle wings. how can I not sing? with david I should cry out...

"because your love is better than life,
    my lips will glorify you.
⁴ I will praise you as long as I live,
    and in your name I will lift up my hands."

the sun can get hot...my eyes can get tired...my legs may want to no longer move...but there is always a shadow to shelter me...wings to comfort and console.  how can I keep from singing?

grab a cup of coffee

so I tried this before...well...does one entry constitute a try? ....yeah, maybe not.

anyway...here I am. what do i think i'm doing here? well...I can't sleep, and thoughts keep rolling through this brain of mine. I have always loved to write. even if I don't put pen to paper, or finger to keyboard, this 45 year old brain is constantly composing. usually it's a bit nonsensical. but sometimes the swirling thoughts settle enough to actually make sense...and my fingers start itching. I just have to get it out. it usually ends up in a rather long facebook post, or a chat with my husband. so I decided I would try this blogging thing again.

if you are reading this...you probably already know me, at least to some degree. but I will tell you a few things...just in case you stumbled across this site...and wondered who this goofball is.

so here goes...as stated above...I am 45. yikes. why does that number look so BIG in black and white? I am a wife of an amazing man. I so do not deserve him. but he actually loves me, and he is truly my best friend.  I am blessed to be a mother of three wonderful humans...one daughter, and two sons. allie is now 22...zach is 19...and jordan is 14.  my career is art manager at carter's...a job that I love, but that I allow to consume me sometimes. yeah...so I'm a bit of a workaholic. workin' on that. ha.  workin' on not being a workaholic. (smirk)  I love to ride my bike...although you wouldn't know that...by the amount of dust it has accumulated lately. I love the outdoors. hiking with my family is therapeutic. my screened in porch has become my haven. (if you are my facebook friend, you already know that.)  I love to read...although I only seem to have time for audio books lately. I love photography...especially capturing kids.  little ones bring me so much joy. their unashamed display of how they think and feel...their unjaded (yeah, I know that's not a word) view of the world...their chubby hands and squeals and silly giggles make me forget that the world can be downright ugly. I am a dreamer. my pinterest boards are full of things I want to do, or make, or places I want to go. but that dreaming helps keep me sane..and once in awhile i actually do at least cook a recipe or two... I hate capitalization. I don't like that my "I" automatically gets capitalized as I type this. I'll see if I can fix that. :)  I prefer to keep my capitalization for my Heavenly Father. ...which brings me to my most important part of me...

I am a believer in God...the one true God. and I believe in His Son.  I believe that Jesus died for this crusty imperfect self-centered stumbling undeserving soul...and for that I am grateful...and have vowed to follow Him. that will be a common thread as I write...because He is the reason I am here...He is the reason I exist, and the reason I continue to exist. I was raised as a pastor's daughter. I learned Truth from parents who lived it. I lost my daddy 10 years ago...funny how it still hurts to write that....but his example of being a humble disciple has stuck with me.  don't get me wrong...I've messed up...big time messed up.  I walked away from my faith for awhile. I allowed bitterness to take root...and I regret those years with every fiber of my being. but Grace found me again.  I still stumble...way too often.  maybe that's really why I'm here...to record my stumbles, and to share what I learned from them. I'm also here to share a piece of my soul. God has given me a love for beauty...whether in photography, in art, in texture and color, in tastes and sensations. I will probably be sharing some of that stuff here too.

anyway...this already a too long post. I have lots of thoughts still tumbling...but I'll save those for the next post. so... if you have a few minutes...grab a cup of coffee...and I pray my musings may touch you in some way. maybe the lessons I've learned through my stumbles will help you.  maybe you'll find a new recipe. maybe you'll be inspired to write too. or maybe it will just supply a chuckle...and you'll be glad to know that I'm much crazier than you. :)

getting started

i'm not quite sure why i think i have time for this, but i'll give it a whirl. my mennonite roots don't allow my feet much comfort with dancing across the floor. but i do love to have my fingers dance on the keyboards...recording my random tho'ts. and perhaps- perchance -maybe -possibly those tho'ts can inspire or inform those of you who stumble through these musings.