Mamas, this week is a heart-burdened week. I am burdened for our nation, for our children who are growing up in a time of hatred and violence—with wars and rumors of wars—with moral decay being celebrated. Just with it all. My heart is burdened with all the news filling my feed and the needs of those at my feet.
How about you?
Do you have more than you feel you can process or handle? A heart and mind filled with random thoughts of packing school lunches and senseless deaths of people in Charlottesville and Spain—and ISIS and…? — All before you have had time to finish your first cup of coffee?
This week’s video encouragement is for us. Jesus teaches us something necessary for our souls in this crazy time of life from Mark Chapter 1.
Listen closely and drink in some spiritual espresso for your week.
My Costco marinated salmon with beef flavored Rice-A-Roni seemed simple enough (I know, healthiest meal ever). But as I pulled the salmon out of the oven—with a crying baby grasping my ankle, another kid in time-out and the third screaming from the bathroom for help—I realized the fish had a crispy outside and a raw center. I started seeping tears.
Dinner time was 30 minutes ago and our stomachs and attitudes needed food.
This is motherhood for me. Everyone needing me at once and trying to accomplish a simple task sometimes feels like 10th grade algebra all over again. Why do they put letters and numbers together? So confusing.
I called in hubby for back-up, took care of urgent parenting matters, and then marched back into the kitchen and stood staring at the half burned—half raw salmon, and my pot of rice. “What should we do?” I asked the hubs, who usually cooks because he is amazing like that. “I’ll make something,” he consoles.
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.