Today I almost lost it—I wanted to yell, wanted to spew hurtful words at an obstinate child. I drove to church to worship Jesus while my wonderful “Gift from the Lord” picked at my self-control resolve like woodpecker. Peck. Peck. Peck.
But the Spirit yelled within my soul: Be still. Strengthen yourself for love.
So instead of cracking, I cracked down—on self-control, loving words, and firm consequences.
WHEW! THAT WAS HARD.
Sometimes I feel like this parenting job is more like a dodgeball-throw-everything-at-mom game. And I end up crying through the bruises once the kids hit the bedtime sideline. Some days I throw back a ball (or two), but today—today—God gave me the strength for Holy Spirit resolve.
That is why I love the prayer from Paul to the Philippians. It is a wise field strategy packed in an empowering prayer pronouncement that suits us up for the ability—through Christ Jesus—to be blameless in the field of motherhood. No matter how many tantrum, name-calling, or rule-breaking balls slap against our legs.
Prayer is powerful. May this prayer from Paul to the church in Philipi be ours this week so that we can parent for the glory of God.
I’ve been there. Hiding in my room during nap-time wishing I could just take the rest of the day off from motherhood—or snapping at the kids while they wrestle and giggle (they’re just being kids). I’ve sat on the floor in my closet crying and thinking, “I can’t do this mommy thing” and then cried some more for even thinking it.
But each time I fizzle out of patience, vision, and fortitude, I’ve learned to ask myself two questions:
When did I read the Word last?
How is my prayer life?
100% of the time I feel burned-out, I have been disconnected in my thought life with the Lord.
This week, let’s fill our mind with truth. Let’s cast our cares on God because He cares for us. Let’s take one step closer so we are one step further away from burn out.
My mom died recently. I sit at her favorite kitchen chair, sipping coffee from her Thomas Kinkade mug, staring out the window to the huge oak tree that protects the yard.
My three-year-old stomps his feet from the living room, through the dinning room, and into the kitchen to tattle-tell on his brother. I hear the pounding and the melody of the well-loved wood floorboards that sing a particular tune.
I will miss these floorboards. They’re aged with vibrations of laughter, card games, and family Thanksgiving turkey dinners.
Life happens too fast.
Wasn’t it just a second ago that mom lulled me to sleep in the living room by the window, singing rock-a-by baby? Didn’t my brother and I just build that fort from chairs and sheets in the backyard where he and the neighbor girl gave each other their first kiss? How has it been 25 years since I sold cups of Crystal Light lemonade for 25 cents on our front lawn?
Life happens too fast.
My baby girl now cries and I pick her up from the jumper and hold her as I type. I stare at her porcelain face and imagine my parents doing the same—from the same spot at the kitchen table.
I now take down pictures off the wall, where sun-spots remain, leaving their legacy of space. And I wonder, what is mom’s legacy?
(this post first appeared on LuSays.com. To read full post, click HERE.)
photo courtesy of unsplash
This week I am reading 2 Peter and am so refreshed by the reality that Jesus is so not a fairytale. He is so unlike the Disney movies engrained in my brain this summer. Jesus is real. He is with us. And He can guide us through all our responsibilities and show us how to enjoy the summer with our youngins before they fly the nest—even when we think we might fly the nest if they don’t stop fighting over the same toy.
Here is a video less than 2 minutes to encourage you—’cause I know that is probably just short enough to watch until someone calls, “MOM!”
Have a great week!
How can we ensure we leave our kids an enduring inheritance? What can we do right now to make deposits? This week’s encouragement comes from 1 Peter Chapter 1.
Hi Mamas! I’m back from an unexpected blogging break. The last four weeks have included moving out of my childhood home, five different places of sleeping, airplanes and road trips. We finally are settled—temporarily—until God shows us what’s next.
We don’t know what God is up to.
So, what do we do—when we don’t know what to do?
In this week’s video, I share a thought from God’s word and my current circumstances.