Tag: mom life

Dripping in Treasure

I have ten kids. Birthed all ten. The oldest was sixteen when I had my last. This was not an easy thing to do. I got hyperemesis with each pregnancy and was usually sick in bed for at least the first five months. It usually took about six months before I felt ok. I averaged twenty pounds weight loss just from throwing up, every time. I made at least one trip to the ER every pregnancy due to dehydration. I took expensive nausea medicine, but it did not relieve symptoms very much. 

When we first got married my husband and I both felt a strong conviction that we were supposed to trust God for the size of our family and we were not going to use birth control. Every time I had a baby, I revisited this decision. I looked at all the birth control options, prayed a lot, and every single time I did not feel peace to stop having kids. I loved our children, we adored our babies, the pregnancies were just so hard. When I was pregnant with our tenth, my husband and I made the decision that we were done having kids and made plans for a permanent birth control. We both felt a lot of peace about that decision, and I can honestly say, there has not been one time where I have regretted that choice or the timing of that choice. 

Over the years as I was sick in bed with another pregnancy, I went through a lot of different emotions. Anger, self-pity, doubt, resignation. But my conviction was stronger than my emotions. I knew this was something God had asked of me. Without a doubt. And so I had ten kids. 

Over the years I have watched how God has provided for us. We have never been without. Despite being a one income family, we have managed to raise our kids and provide what they need. Definitely not everything they want, but everything they need. 

Now, when I look at my life, I feel like one of the wealthiest women in the world. I am dripping in treasure. My life is so rich. My kids are amazing. They love each other. They love their parents. Our home is peaceful. Not quiet, but peaceful. Any time of the day I can look up and see my kids being creative, imaginative, enthusiastic, kind. They love going to church. They love worshipping Jesus. They do their work around the house without a big fuss, and they love helping others. I am bursting with pride over every single one of them. And I find my life as a stay-at-home mom something that uses all my talents and is fulfilling and meaningful. 

Last night we went and picked up our kids from church camp. We had seven kids at camp. One was there as a cook, two were there as counselors, another as a junior counselor, and then three as campers. The camp does a lot of performing arts, so the last night the parents come and see all the things their kids have learned. Flag performances, hip hop, drama, skits, dances. It was wonderful. I sat on the hillside in my camp chair and I watched my children worship God with full enthusiasm and emotion. One of the last songs they sang with all the kids was “The Blessing”  (Elevation Worship) which they had learned sign language to.  And as I watched and sang along, I sat there crying because I knew God had already blessed me. Richly. Unequivocally. Overflowing cup. 

Almost without fail, any time someone learns I have ten kids, they react with surprise and astonishment and a look on their face that easily translates as, “You’re crazy!” But every once in a while, there is someone who gets it and they say, “Wow, you are so blessed!” And I have to agree. Yes, I am. You have no idea how much. 

Sunday Drive

Today I left the church building

A morning of prayers, praise

Presence

We drove in our car

My husband, my children

Pieces of my heart

We drove through these Tennessee Mountains

Green Jungle

Misty peaks

Deep sheltered valleys, rivers running through 

From the backseat of my car my children sang

The worship service had left the building with them

And the praise continued on

In my car

We drove through these Tennessee Mountains

I found myself reaching out with my thoughts, my prayers

Reaching to the God who is everywhere

Yet so hard to see

My eyes wandered those mountain tops

Where does my help come from?

We drove through these Tennessee mountains

An impression

A tickle on the back of my neck

There, out of the corner of my eye

Did I hear something? 

For a moment I was sure

Sure that heaven was only a breath away

Perhaps on the other side of my window

Joy running alongside my car

As we drove through these Tennessee mountains

Feeling the Absence

Lately, I’ve been feeling the absence of something in my life. It has felt like a huge gaping hole in my personality and has actually made me pause and wonder a lot as I’ve tried to analzye what this hole was. And I think I’ve finally figured out what is missing. It’s fear. Anxiety. Stress. I am not feeling it. And it is strange and wonderful. LIke a part of me finally stopped pacing up and down and just sat down and rested. 

This absence feels so weird that it’s made me feel like I need to do an assessment of my life, inner and outer workings, make sure I’m not missing something. Surely there is something I should be stressed about? Surely I’ve messed up somewhere. Why am I feeling so relaxed and not guilty? 

I made a survey of how things are going with kids home for summer break. And I realized this is the first summer that I haven’t hyper-planned every moment of the day. And everyone is doing fine. Kids are playing well. Using their time well. 

I made a survey of our family as a whole. Have we lost our vision? Do we have goals we are actively accomplishing? And I came to the conclusion that we are on track. Over the years our goals have simplified down to wanting our kids to love Jesus and learn how to serve the people around them. And I feel like all our planned summer activities lend to promoting those things. 

I made a survey of myself. Am I being all that I can be? Probably not, but I’m pretty happy with what I’ve accomplished as a wife and a mother of ten so far. And I do have other interests I’m pursuing as well, like music and writing which makes me feel like my life is pretty balanced at the moment. 

It’s not like life has suddenly become perfect and amazing. I could easily summon up a long list of things that are not ideal, need changing, Prayer requests which I’m still waiting on answers. But that feeling of anxiousness seems to be gone. Like I can look at a problem, and say, yes, this is definitely a problem, and then I can pray about it and move on with my day. 

It’s kind of like getting an aching tooth pulled. You’re so glad the tooth is gone and is no longer hurting you, but your tongue keeps exploring this empty hole in your mouth because it’s weird and different. 

Anxiety has been a constant companion for all of my life. I can’t remember a time without it. I don’t know why God has chosen this time in my life to set me free from this. I can’t think of any momentous thing I’ve done to warrant it happening at this moment. But I am thankful. And feeling hopeful for the future. And trying not to feel too weird about this unexpected gaping hole. I wonder what positive thing I could replace it with? 

Thoughts on Parenting

I’ve been thinking about parenting.  

This weekend I asked one of the kids to do a chore. They were in a really bad mood and feeling overwhelmed with things they needed to do and so they told me, bluntly, that they were not going to do the chore. I was shocked. My kids do not say no to me. Not because I’m a harsh disciplinarian, but simply because we established when they were little that if your parents ask you to do a task, you do it. I pointed out to them that if they did not do it, it meant that someone else in the family was going to have to pick up their work. They did not budge. I walked away. 

I was really angry. But also confused as this is a good kid who is always willing to do their part and usually doesn’t even grumble about their chores. 

Now, in the past, the way I dealt with this was more lecturing, arguing, and then taking away some kind of privilege, like a phone, device, or screen time. The end result being that the task still didn’t get done and now my kid was just as angry as I was. Or maybe they did the task while screaming and fussing the entire time and then we all stayed mad for several days. 

But this time I took myself away from the situation. Talked to my husband. We both agreed this was unusual behavior. And I acknowledged that I could understand why they were feeling overwhelmed with the other tasks they had to do as well.  In the end I did nothing. My husband did the chore and my younger daughter helped him. My child finally calmed down from their bad mood and entered into some conversation with me. 

Now, I am still miffed that they said no. I plan to have further conversations where I can explain that I am always willing to listen to them if they’re unable to do something I’ve asked them to do, but we need to have a conversation about it that stays respectful.  If they had stopped and said, Mom, I’ve got a school project that I’m really stressed about and I have all these things I have to do to get ready for Monday, can someone else do the chore? Then we could have had a conversation about it and that would be a respectful way to handle it. And for my part, I need to be willing to take things into consideration when my child respectfully asks for a reprieve.  

In the past I would have been very concerned about my child disrespecting me and not being obedient and I would have responded harshly.  Now, by God’s grace, I’m a lot more concerned with how my child is doing, as a person. If they are acting out in some way, I want to know why, and what can we do to fix it? Maybe they are being selfish. Maybe they are being disrespectful. Maybe they are tired or overwhelmed. If it’s selfishness, let’s try to help them see other people and their needs and not just themselves and their own needs. If they’re being disrespectful, let’s talk about respect for adults, parents, other humans, and set firm boundaries in these areas. If they are tired, let’s teach them how to recognize that in themselves and learn the habit of getting alone and resting, instead of sticking around to argue over every little thing. If they’re overwhelmed, let’s teach them how to recognize that for what it is, and then get some help from a parent or someone else who can help them get caught up or organize their time. 

I remember when I first started parenting, all the books and classes on parenting that were so popular. And they all hammered into you exactly what a good parent was supposed to do. And if your child did not sleep through the night at 2 months old, did not practice first time obedience, threw tantrums in public, etc, then that meant that you were a failure as a parent. And I really absorbed that. When my kids misbehaved, it meant that I was failing. And that put a lot of pressure on me which I then transferred to my kids. Not a great atmosphere.

A million failures later, I think I’ve mostly learned to let go of that idea that I have to be a perfect parent and that my children’s behavior is a reflection of my worth. I am trying to see my kids as the little humans that they are, who are just as sinful and ornery as I am and need just as much grace and compassion as I do. And who need as much constant help, direction, and encouragement as I do. I still fail regularly, but I think my house is a lot more peaceful and my kids a lot less stressed than when I first started on this parenting journey.

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We’re All Growing Up

My little kids are growing up. It’s been happening slowly, inching along. And then suddenly I lifted my head up, glanced around and realized everything was different. 

I was at the library this week with my kids and they all went off on their own to find their books. They each had their own library card so I wasn’t needed for any part of the process. Even my youngest child knows how to go to the librarian and ask about particular books they are looking for and place holds for books they want that aren’t available. In the past, I would walk through all the read-a-loud shelves and choose a big pile of fun looking stories that I would take home. And then I would sit on the couch for an hour, surrounded by kids while I read and read and read. My fingers still itch to grab those shiny covers off the shelf. But I no longer do. After bringing home books several times that nobody wanted to listen to because they were too busy reading their own long chapter books, I finally gave up. And that makes me really sad. I loved reading those books. 

I saw a meme today about a parent getting really frustrated at their young children not putting their shoes on in a timely manner. And I laughed. I remember those days. 

Where are your shoes???? Shrug. When did you last see your shoes??? Shrug. Where have you looked so far for your shoes???Shrug. AAACCKK!!! 

But now, we have shoe boxes by the door, and somehow everyone has managed to get trained enough that they leave their shoes at least somewhere in a 10 foot radius of the shoe boxes. And sometimes, actually in the shoe boxes. I tell everyone to get their shoes on, and five minutes later, it’s done. Who knew this was possible. Gone are the days of looking in cars, under beds, by the trampoline, behind the bathroom door, under a pile of dirty laundry. And I can say, that I don’t miss those days at all. 

My older teens occasionally tell some story from when they were little and I am often surprised at how I am portrayed in their memory. I find myself apologizing. I’m sorry sweetie. I was a different mom then. I was a baby mom. And I’ve grown up a lot since then. 

And this is something I’ve never given much thought to. We have kids, and we look forward to watching them grow up. We celebrate every milestone. We have books that tell us what new thing our child should do soon, and we look for hints and clues that our babies are on their way to mastering this newest level of development. We document everything with photos. And then they grow up and we think it’s done. Everyone’s bodies are fully developed. End of story. But it’s not. Our entire lifetime is spent growing up. 

Looking back I can think of some milestones I passed. When I learned to stop throwing a temper tantrum when my toddlers created chaos and wreaked havoc. When I learned to stop yelling so much. When I learned to not explode when my child spilled something or broke something. When I learned how to take myself away and calm down before dealing with something volatile. When I learned that my young teen saying they hate me or some other mean thing, was really just another developmental stage for them, and I didn’t have to feel like a complete failure as a parent. 

Growing up happens in other walks of life too. Last night we attended a marriage class at our church and in our small group discussions, I realized just how far my husband and I have come from our early days of marriage. How we’ve learned to love each other so much better than when we first started. Growth. Growing up. 

In Ephesians 3:14-19 Paul has a prayer for the church. And I’m going to loosely paraphrase it for you. Paul prays that we would be strengthened by the Holy Spirit so that through faith, Christ can live in our hearts, and we can be able to comprehend just how wide, high, long and deep is Christ’s love for us. That we would know his love, and through that be filled with the fullness of God. 

It was a prayer. A looking forward. You don’t have this yet, but I pray that you will. A prayer for growth. 

I believe that it is growth in this area, learning just how much Jesus loves us, that promotes growth in all the other areas of our adult lives. I learn to love my children better and parent them better as I learn more about Jesus’ patience and compassion. I learn to love my spouse better as I learn more about Jesus’ self-sacrifice and long suffering. And I learn how to love the people around me as I learn more how Jesus values me and lavishes unearned favor on me. 

May we all never stop growing up. 

Trying to Let Go Gracefully

The end of this week my almost eighteen year old is heading off for a ten day mission trip overseas. It will involve canoes and rivers and remote areas. I can’t say that I feel warm and fuzzy about it. 

Years ago when this child was an infant I was at church and during the worship service God gave me a vision. I saw a world globe that was dark and my viewpoint was from Tennessee and I was watching bright shiny stars shoot out from Tennessee and go all over the world. And I knew those stars were my children. And it was a vision I needed at that time. 

My husband and I are both second generation missionary kids and when we got married we felt that call for a decision on us. Are we going to follow in our parents’ and grandparents’ footsteps and find our way to the mission field too? We explored the idea but neither of us felt called. We loved other cultures and travel and living in new exciting places, but did not feel a burden to become ministers of any type. So, when I had a vision of my children going out into the world it felt like confirmation. WE are not going to go out, but we’ll prepare our children and they will go out. 

We have often talked about adventures and travel and missions with our kids. Think outside the box. Do daring things. My oldest moved to Maine: Good for you, be near relatives, pursue your dreams! The next child joined the military: God protect my son in Jesus’ name. The next child moved out and has been feeling her way around a career and talks of being a foster mom when she is older: I’m so proud of you! And then this child comes along. I’m off to serve in the inner city for the next two summers. Ok, be safe. I’m going to Columbia. Ok, your dad will go with you. I’m off to Honduras. Um. Ok, now hold on a minute. Is this safe? How am I going to communicate with you? Can’t you wait till you’re eighteen? And I feel myself balking. I know this is what my daughter has dreamed of, and the trip is as safe as any trip can be. And she’s walking in God’s calling on her life. But this is getting hard. Letting go of my kids so they can go off and live their own lives, going out into the world to be a light wherever they are. This is not easy. 

Having multiple little ones at home for so long, I have often comforted myself…One day they will be eighteen and head out into the world and I will no longer be in charge. There is an end in sight. Yeah. I was really wrong about that. Sure, I no longer cook their meals, do their laundry, drive them places etc, but the amount of stress and worry I have to battle as I watch them from a distance as they strike out on their own, it feels equal to having a bunch of little ones running around the house. Maybe heavier.  

Lord, protect my children, draw them close to you. Let their lives bring glory to you. 

And help me to let go gracefully, and trust that you’ve got them. 

And let them know that I am so proud of them. 

The Power of Small Changes

This past week I’ve had something unusual happen. I’ve been waking up in a good mood, feeling happy. As someone who has spent her entire life fighting lowgrade depression which occasionally morphs into full blown deep depression, waking up feeling happy feels strange. It’s not that I normally wake up in a bad mood. It’s just usually very neutral. Yes, I’m awake. New day. Better get moving. 

I find myself kind of poking this happiness. What are you doing here? Isn’t there something that I should be worried about or feeling upset about? I find myself examining every aspect of my life. Am I being a good mom, wife, friend? Am I using my time well? And while everything can always improve, I feel like everything is moving in the right direction. Huh.  

Is happiness simply the lack of conflict and problems? I hope not, otherwise, I can count on this disappearing pretty quickly. Life has a way of throwing stuff at you at a pretty regular pace. 

But, I don’t think that’s what it is. I think that I am finally seeing the fruit of a lot of small decisions and disciplines I’ve been slowly implementing. I think allowing myself a good six months to just sit with my grief when my foster daughter left was the beginning. Then tackingly my health with diet and exercise and working on getting back into music. All individual choices that have required daily discipline, but I am starting to see fruit, and easing of depression seems to be one of those good benefits. 

I was thinking about this same concept in the realm of parenting. I have concerns for some of my kids. Things I want to see changed. Things that worry me. And this morning as I sat at the breakfast table, my youngest sitting in my lap having a cuddle before school, I thought, this is how change happens. One day at a time. Me consistently loving them, pouring into them, providing a peaceful home where their needs are met. Correcting unwanted behavior as it happens. 

Sometimes when I am dwelling on things that are going wrong with my kids, I want something big and drastic that I can implement that will solve all the problems and fix it immediately. But that is rarely what works. Instead it is small changes, small choices, daily disciplines. 

For example, my son was having a really negative attitude about school starting up again. Everything he said was negative. His attitude was horrible and he was angry and in a bad mood constantly. After checking out the facts and realizing that the only real problem he was having was that he didn’t want to stop summer break where he could play all day and resented having to do actual work every day, I wanted his attitude to change immediately. I wanted this negativity to stop. I lectured him quite a bit. Surely if he just faced the facts, he would accept it and move on. Nope. No change. I finally implemented a “GOOD ATTITUDE” chart. Every day after school he had to tell me three good things that happened that day. And then he could tell me one thing that was challenging. Each day he could get a sticker for doing that, and every week that he filled his chart with stickers, he would get a dollar. 

The first day was comical in how hard it was for him to tell me three good things. It took him all afternoon and it was like he was fighting a lot of inner demons to be able to get the words out his mouth. (He really wanted the dollar, so he persevered.) The next day was a little easier.  By the end of the week he was getting in the car after school ready to tell me his three good things right away. By the end of the second week he had already forgotten about the chart. The negativity had ended and each day he was able to casually mention good things that happened during the day. And his mood had vastly improved. One small discipline, implemented daily. Long term results. 

I think it’s tied up with faith and hope. I have faith that God’s word is true, and I have hope that if I follow God’s precepts, I will see fruit which will come at the right and proper time. And for that, I am thankful. 

Who Does God say that He is?

This last week I had some new/different experiences. As is typical for me, it made me feel insecure, unsure of myself. And when that happens, I have this lovely little voice in my head that loves to tear me down as low as possible. Insulting. Mocking. Sneering. 

By this time in my life, I have learned to not sit and listen to the voice but fight back instead. As I was pondering my battle strategy, I thought I’ll focus on,  ” Who does God say that I am?” But, then I felt a check. No, that’s not what I need to focus on. What I need to focus on is Who do I say that God is? Who is this God that I serve? 

I changed the title of this blog to “Who Does God say that He is?” instead of “Who do I say that God is?” because in our current society we have decided that truth is not absolute. It’s playdough that we shape and mold into our own image and then worship. Truth is no longer considered solid, immovable, unchangeable. It’s just whatever whim we decided to hold onto tightly. 

I know that this is not right. Truth is not whatever we want it to be. Truth is something we have to search out, seek, look for like we look for hidden treasure. Truth is what we find in scripture, God’s word. So, what does God’s word say about Himself? 

There are books and classes and studies that focus on this. I am in no way going to be able to cover everything that the Bible tells us about God. Not going to even try. I’ll just tell you the parts that I have learned to focus on. 

God is all powerful. Creator. He made me. He made the Universe. He made this world I live in. He made all the people around me. 

God is good. He is Holy. There is no wrong in him. I can trust his work and his plans because I know that they are good and holy. 

God is Immanuel – God with us. Jesus came to earth to be with us. To come and live a holy unsinful life in our place. To take on all of our punishment that we deserve for the sins we have committed. He gave his life so that the barriers that kept sinful us away from holy Him would be taken down. And now all of us can be in relationship with Him. 

God is merciful. He has shown compassion and forgiveness to me. 

God is full of grace. He offers me free and unmerited favor. 

God is our Father. He cherishes me. He protects me. He provides for me. 

God is love. He is not angry with me. He enjoys my company and wants me to draw near to him. 

This is only the slightest scratch of the surface in exploring who God is. 

What I have discovered is that when I turn my focus on God and spend time dwelling on who he is, all of my insecurities fade away. They become so insignificant. If I serve such an amazing God and that amazing God created me and loves me, what on earth do I have to be afraid about? What do I have to worry about? The lies that my brain tries to dump on me turn into nothing when I focus on the ultimate truth that God is who he says he is in his Holy word. 

What is God’s Will for my Life?

I’ve been thinking about how hard it is to discern God’s will for your life. 

I have started taking piano lessons again. I’ve been doing it for one month. I’m loving it. I’m practicing every day and my teacher is amazing. I’m seeing some really big improvements as I follow her direction. I feel like something was hibernating inside of me for a long time and it’s slowly being awakened. But I’m fighting a battle with guilt. 

Is this really the best use of your time? Are you taking away from your kids by doing this? Isn’t this rather selfish? Are you wasting family resources? Is this really necessary? Shouldn’t you be out doing ministry in your spare time? How is this ever going to turn into a job that will help your family down the road? You are definitely being selfish. 

Now, I’m not entertaining these thoughts. They come, I brush them away. They come again. I push them away again. I’m not inviting them in and wallowing in them but, they do keep coming. 

Our foster daughter of three years left this last December. I have spent this year kind of recovering from that. A lot of emotions to process. I feel like I am finally in a place where I’m ready to be out in the world again, but I’ve been at a bit of a loss as to what I should be doing with myself. Serving people is a key part of my faith. Love God. Love People. And right now, I don’t feel like I’m doing much serving. There are a million ways to get involved in serving here in our community. So many organizations with boots on the ground who always need more volunteers. Finding a place to serve is not the issue. The issue is figuring out what God wants me to be doing in this very moment. 

In the past I’ve learned to not get too worried about this subject. Without fail, God has always brought people into our lives for us to serve and minister to. I have felt like my main responsibility has been  to be willing and ready. And that is where I’m at right now. Ok Lord, I’m willing and ready to do whatever you want me to do. In the meantime, I’m going to do the work that I already have in front of me which is to take care of my family. Make new friends with the people I am meeting. Go to church. Read my Bible. And music. For whatever reason, I have felt the urge to get back into music. And God has opened doors for me to be able to teach again. And to reconnect with my piano teacher. And be able to pay for lessons. And for those lessons to just happen to be close by and at a time when I can still manage school pick ups and drop offs. 

So yeah, it feels like I’m walking in the right direction. But guilt speaks loudly. Surely it’s not God’s will for me to be doing something I actually enjoy? Isn’t serving God supposed to just be painful sacrifice? 

I tell my older kids, when they ask the Million Dollar Question, How do I know God’s will for my life? I tell them, God has given you gifts and abilities and talents. Start using them. He gave them to you for a purpose. You aren’t going to go wrong doing the things that you were inherently made for. Don’t just sit waiting for some great epiphany. Get yourself moving using your gifts and then God can direct your steps as you move forward. 

So here I am, taking my own advice. 

Not in Control

When I was a kid I was terrified of the dark. Bedtime was an ordeal. I always had to have a nightlite on, door open, hallway light on. I often got up in the night and went to my parents’ room. They often had to sit outside my door to help me go to sleep. 

During that time I established some rituals that seemed rather obsessive compulsive. I had a lot of stuffed animals. A lot. I loved them dearly and played with them often. At bedtime I had to have them all with me. On my bed. If they were not on my bed then they had to be in the exact spot I designated for them where I felt that they were all safe and snug together, no one left out. Now, I can see that it was a way to establish control and to give myself a sense of security. My stuffed animals were my children and I made sure they were all safely together, no one alone in the dark. I can still remember that panic that would well up if some fell off the bed, or I was missing one. There was no way I could be at peace unless they were all where they were supposed to be. 

Last night I had a sudden flashback to that time of my life because I could feel the same sense of panic welling up again. My oldest daughter spent the summer with us, but now she was returning to college and the place she has made her own home. And suddenly another one of my children was not going to be safe under my roof where I knew she would not be alone in the dark somewhere where I couldn’t reach her. 

When I was a kid it took me a while to get over my obsession. Some of it was outgrowing the need, and some of it was being in situations where I simply couldn’t control where everything was and so I just had to learn to accept that. 

As a parent I’ve had a lot of practice learning how little control I have over my children. Especially my grown up ones. I can’t keep them all safely around me. I can’t control what they think and believe. I can’t control what decisions they make. I can’t control what the world throws at them. 

Last night, instead of trying to stuff the panicky feeling deep down where I could ignore it for a while, I addressed it head on. Ok. My daughter is leaving. I no longer get to see her every day and that makes me sad. I am now stepping back to phone calls, silly texts, and praying for her every day. And right there, that is where the peace comes in. I can pray for my kids twenty-four hours a day if needed. I am not in control. But God is. I can’t protect them. But God can. I can’t provide every single little thing they need. But God does. 

I can trust God with my children.  

The sense of feeling in control is something I’ve had to learn to hold lightly. Sure, I’ve got control of some things, until suddenly I don’t. (Think 2020!) But, we have not been called to keep everything in order under our thumb. We’ve been called to trust God. Have faith in him. And in that trust and faith is where we find peace.