Our children are not an extension of who we are. It certainly feels like they are, doesn't it? Flesh of our flesh. Blood of our blood.** It absolutely feels like my heart exists outside my body since becoming a mother. I have experienced emotion on enormous scale as I have lived through their successes, failures, and sufferings. But. My children are not part of me. They are their own people.
I love them with a reckless, all-consuming love. The crazy kind. A love that beats heavy in my chest. A love that leaves no doubt in my mind that I would willingly die for them - and just as certainly kill for them if ever necessary to protect them. Or if someone shamed them in my presence. You know, either way.
A love that leads me to read all the books, listen to all the podcasts, and pray all the prayers. A mother's love is intense. It's powerful. It's deeply rooted in our very nature as nurtures. It should be the kind of love that completely undoes us while also holding us together. Even as I write these words, they aren't doing justice to the depth of passion and resolve with which a mother loves her babies. But, mostly likely, I don't need to tell you - you already know.
Sometimes that well-intentioned and oh-so-beautiful love leads us to wrong understanding of our relationship with our children. I am just coming to realize this as my oldest approaches three and a half years old and my youngest is nearly two. I find that when I am misunderstanding our relationship it makes life very difficult for me and them the same.
What could there possibly be to misunderstand? Obviously I am their mother. I am meant to nurture them mind, body, and soul: meet physical needs, teach them, and shepherd their hearts. Agreed. Most assuredly, all those things are true.
You know what our relationship is NOT? My children are an extension of who I am, and their successes and failures are determined, or at least greatly influenced, by my successes, failures, and efforts as their mother.
No.
This is not the case.
This is a very difficult concept to grasp. It feels like a cop out. It feels like letting myself off the hook. It feels like I'm allowing myself to wash my hands of the responsibility I have to direct them and shape them into acceptable citizens (at the least) and awesome men of God with a heart for service that walk humbly, seek justice, and love mercy (at best). Certainly I am responsible for how they turn out. I am their mother, after all.
But do you know what I'm realizing more and more? I'm not. That's not my responsibility. All of that is the work of the Holy Spirit. I would be a better mother to those boys if I accepted this truth on a moment to moment basis throughout each day.
You see, it's not a cop out... it's the freeing truth. A truth that frees me AND those sweet souls from my crushing expectations. Why is the truth so hard to accept when it gives us a break? We can take a hard truth. Just give it to us straight, and we can handle it. Give us something free - something to ease the burden, and we feel like we can't accept it.
Wanna know what I'm learning? It's not strong to hold impossibly high standards for yourself or your kids. Wanna know what it is? Destructive. Short-sighted. Self-absorbed. Wait for it... sinful.
The idea that we somehow are responsible for the choices our children make and that those choices -good or bad- are a direct reflection on who we are as individuals is wrong. I was born sinful, and I will die sinful. My children share the same fate. By the grace of Jesus - the Holy Spirit has done a saving work in my heart, and I am now justified by faith and am being continually sanctified. I pray the same experience for my children. But that journey - the journey of sin, faith, justification, and sanctification is ultimately a personal one. Of course we come along each other; of course we bear each others' burdens - but we each stand before the throne of God alone in the end.
Getting too big picture - lets zoom back in on the here and now of the terribly terrifying and equally wonderful beyond description world of toddlerhood. Heaven help us.
Yesterday my oldest was truly terrible to me. Hitting. Kicking. Tantruming. Yelling. Spitting. Pushing. Defying. All of it was extremely defeating. I wasn't my best self by the end of the day. I fell asleep wondering how I had failed him so badly. How could a child of mine display such heinous behavior? I read the books. I pray the prayers. I listen to the podcasts. I TRY... like, really, really, try. Maybe I've raised my voice too much. Maybe I've spanked too much... too hard... not enough... not in the right spirit... didn't have the right words... favored his brother too much... fed him too much sugar... let him watch too much TV... It's exhausting to bear the burden of another person's sinful (and sometimes just developmentally appropriate immaturity) choices. I'm saying, leave it to the Savior.
When my child hits another child at school and gets written up... that is not a reflection on me as a person, and it is not my fault as a parent. Do I talk to him about it? Do I discipline him? Do we talk all the time about "nice hands" while I run his hand on my cheek? Yes... Lord knows I do. But....
Now all you mamas out there lean in and listen up...
I cannot be the mom those precious children deserve and I so DESPERATELY need myself to be if I'm all-consumed by whether or not all my hard work is showing in the choices they make in order to reflect well on me and feel like I am enough.
Did you hear that? How about I break it down.
1. I am an image-bearer of the Almighty God.
2. Jesus is my righteousness.
3. When God looks at me, He sees the perfection of Jesus... not Jesus' plus one, but the actually righteousness of Jesus.
4. My children are sinful, and they make sinful choices.
5. If I can accept that I am not the Holy Spirit, I can focus on how God is sanctifying me through the role of motherhood.
6. If I can stop worrying about how my children's choices reflect on me as a mother and define me as a person, I can actually focus on their needs I CAN meet.
7. Being free from nursing my pride and wounded reputation (for other people and myself) means I am not bogged down in my own self-imposed garbage.
8. Free Jamison has the perspective to see motherhood as missional service.
9. Free Jamison is capable of empathy, mercy, and sound mind.
10. Free Jamison doesn't look to her own interests, but to the interests of others - namely, Luke & Stephen.
Whoops. 10 points isn't exactly simpler, but I feel like I got to the point.
I am my own person with an identity rooted in Christ. How deeply rooted I am depends entirely on my willingness to pursue Him and approach my day in a posture of dependence on Him. While my children will certainly mimic me, look to me, and reflect some of my teaching - they don't actually reflect me, and they certainly shouldn't define me. What a terrible burden to bear as a little lamb to bear the burden of the success or failure of the mama sheep. How terrible.
Let's be our own people. Mamas who can take the fact that our kids sin without getting in such a funk that we forget who we are and all of the sudden look to them to give us our worth.
My name is Jamison and I am the mother of Luke and Stephen. Luke and Stephen sometimes do super hurtful and even embarrassing things on the regular. I (try to) handle them with a calm demeanor, discipline them, and then it's water under the bridge. Because that's what they deserve - a secure mother that can be strong when they are weak, under control when they are out of control, and not ashamed even when they do shameful things.
I have failed them both recently. But I will no longer allow myself to fail them simply because of my own pride and wrongfully taking responsibility for choices beyond my control. I choose the truth. I choose freedom. I choose the easy yoke and light burden offered by my Lord because only then can I have the right perspective to lead my littles in a way that offers mercy and hope rather than burden and stress.
Let's walk in freedom, mama-sister-friends.
**Flesh and blood do not a child make... I am not intending to exclude adoption. Them babies is YOUR babies. Bless you and yours.
Tuesday, November 8, 2016
Friday, April 8, 2016
Pride: The Kryptonite of Motherhood
My sister reminds me fairly often of how much more she likes me since I became a mother.
"Jamison, you're just a better person. Softer. Kinder. More approachable and able to relate to weakness."
These words sound strange to me. Foreign, except maybe the last part. Perhaps she has mistaken me for someone else… unlikely, since we are sisters.
Why does this description sound so far off base? Because I've never liked myself less. My opinion of myself, my ability to tackle challenges, my capacity to problem solve and succeed, my overall personhood, and my reflection of the Savior I love has never been lower.
I wonder if those thoughts hit you as hard while you read them as they hit me while I typed them. I don't think I've ever put it quite so frankly to myself before. But that is how I feel most days. Sure, occasionally I will have a day where I feel like I was patient enough, gracious enough, selfless enough - but those days are few and far between. Joy seems to evade me most of the time as I'm bogged down in daily responsibilities, the pressures of parenting, and the constant feeling that I'm not measuring up to the mother and person I'd always assumed I would be. The mother I want to be seems so far out of grasp. The mother I see in the mirror doesn't stand up to my standards. She's selfish, self-centered, harsh, impatient, slothful… and worst (in my opinion) always distracted.
I have decided that it all boils down to my main sin struggle: pride. Pride drives all my wrong attitudes. Pride tells me what I deserve. Pride tells me what I'm missing out on. Pride tells me what he's doing wrong. Pride tells me how my children should be treating me.
Pride is the nails scratching down the chalkboard commanding my attention - stripping me of contentment and pumping me full of resentment, anger, and self-pity.
Pride gives the response, "That's not how you talk to me," in a harsh tone to my two year old that forgot to say please.
Pride says, "Please just leave Mommy alone for 5 minutes because she never gets a second to herself."
Pride says, "I cannot rock you to sleep when you're in pain cutting your molars because I only got 3 hours of sleep last night and this is MY time to sleep."
Pride says, "No, you cannot go golf with your dad because when is the last time I did anything for myself? Oh, that's right, NEVER because I'm always taking care of YOUR kids."
Pride says all of those things, but they come out of Jamison's mouth and fall on the ears of my precious baby, my darling toddler, and my loving husband. And I feel validation… which is always followed by shame. The word shame always fills my eyes with tears.
Pride strips me of any chance I have of being the mother I dream of being. There is no room for selflessness, love, kindness, gentleness, patience, or any other maternal/Christ-like quality in a heart ruled by pride.
Pride is not always the fingernails scratching down the chalkboard - sometimes is comes as a whisper. Whispering words of discontentment that invade all of your thoughts and actions throughout the day. All it takes is one drop of color to permeate an entire bowl of water. Pride is a cancer that eats away at the nature of your heart until you cannot recognize yourself and see pain reflected in the eyes of your loved ones.
***Enter the pep talk***
Shame and self-pity are not of the Lord. Shame and self-pity are crippling tools Satan uses to deceive us into walking in the chains we have been set free from long ago. It was for FREEDOM we have been set free, and we must not let ourselves live in the bondage of sin any longer. To live in false chains is to disregard Christ's sacrifice on the cross and choose the mirage of self-pity over the glorious victory He has won for us already.
Is it true that I feel disappointed in my abilities as a mother on a daily basis? Without a doubt - for sure. Because motherhood is hard. It's so hard. But it is a heck of a lot less hard when I ground my head and heart in God's word about who I am, whose I am, and what I am capable of with the help of the Holy Spirit…
You know what else I forgot to mention that pride says? It says, "I can do this on my own, just you watch me." Famous last words. Believe me, I know, because they are my last words on lots of days before I crash in burn in the wreckage of pride. Bystanders - beware of debris.
So, what to do? If Dr. Holy Ghost were going to prescribe something for a bad case of the i-can-do-it-all-myself-while-constantly-reminding-myself-of-everything-i-desreve-and-have-given-up-for-this-once-glamorous-but-really-its-destroyed-my-whole-identity-motherhood-business?
H U M I L I T Y
You know the tricky thing about humility, though? It cannot be manufactured. I like to think of it more as a seed that must be sown and reaped. How to you sow and reap humility? God's Word.
Interesting how it always come back to that book isn't it?
I need to feed and water my soul every single day with God's word if I have a stray cat in the dog park's chance of sowing and reaping any quality of Christ.
When I go to sleep tonight, I am disappointed and my cheeks might be a little wet. The day could have been better (to put it gently). But tomorrow is a new day. A new day to show my family I love them. A new day to show Jesus that I choose him. A new day to dig my heels down deep in the Bible while letting go of strongholds that keep me from moving toward the person God is growing me to be.
So, here is to putting a muzzle on my pride, and picking up the watering can for my branch off the vine.
He is the vine, we are the branches.
So. Simple. When I find myself fruitless, I look at my branch. And then, I reattach that thing the VINE.
A quote from one of my favorite books:
"Jamison, you're just a better person. Softer. Kinder. More approachable and able to relate to weakness."
These words sound strange to me. Foreign, except maybe the last part. Perhaps she has mistaken me for someone else… unlikely, since we are sisters.
Why does this description sound so far off base? Because I've never liked myself less. My opinion of myself, my ability to tackle challenges, my capacity to problem solve and succeed, my overall personhood, and my reflection of the Savior I love has never been lower.
I wonder if those thoughts hit you as hard while you read them as they hit me while I typed them. I don't think I've ever put it quite so frankly to myself before. But that is how I feel most days. Sure, occasionally I will have a day where I feel like I was patient enough, gracious enough, selfless enough - but those days are few and far between. Joy seems to evade me most of the time as I'm bogged down in daily responsibilities, the pressures of parenting, and the constant feeling that I'm not measuring up to the mother and person I'd always assumed I would be. The mother I want to be seems so far out of grasp. The mother I see in the mirror doesn't stand up to my standards. She's selfish, self-centered, harsh, impatient, slothful… and worst (in my opinion) always distracted.
I have decided that it all boils down to my main sin struggle: pride. Pride drives all my wrong attitudes. Pride tells me what I deserve. Pride tells me what I'm missing out on. Pride tells me what he's doing wrong. Pride tells me how my children should be treating me.
Pride is the nails scratching down the chalkboard commanding my attention - stripping me of contentment and pumping me full of resentment, anger, and self-pity.
Pride gives the response, "That's not how you talk to me," in a harsh tone to my two year old that forgot to say please.
Pride says, "Please just leave Mommy alone for 5 minutes because she never gets a second to herself."
Pride says, "I cannot rock you to sleep when you're in pain cutting your molars because I only got 3 hours of sleep last night and this is MY time to sleep."
Pride says, "No, you cannot go golf with your dad because when is the last time I did anything for myself? Oh, that's right, NEVER because I'm always taking care of YOUR kids."
Pride says all of those things, but they come out of Jamison's mouth and fall on the ears of my precious baby, my darling toddler, and my loving husband. And I feel validation… which is always followed by shame. The word shame always fills my eyes with tears.
Pride strips me of any chance I have of being the mother I dream of being. There is no room for selflessness, love, kindness, gentleness, patience, or any other maternal/Christ-like quality in a heart ruled by pride.
Pride is not always the fingernails scratching down the chalkboard - sometimes is comes as a whisper. Whispering words of discontentment that invade all of your thoughts and actions throughout the day. All it takes is one drop of color to permeate an entire bowl of water. Pride is a cancer that eats away at the nature of your heart until you cannot recognize yourself and see pain reflected in the eyes of your loved ones.
***Enter the pep talk***
Shame and self-pity are not of the Lord. Shame and self-pity are crippling tools Satan uses to deceive us into walking in the chains we have been set free from long ago. It was for FREEDOM we have been set free, and we must not let ourselves live in the bondage of sin any longer. To live in false chains is to disregard Christ's sacrifice on the cross and choose the mirage of self-pity over the glorious victory He has won for us already.
Is it true that I feel disappointed in my abilities as a mother on a daily basis? Without a doubt - for sure. Because motherhood is hard. It's so hard. But it is a heck of a lot less hard when I ground my head and heart in God's word about who I am, whose I am, and what I am capable of with the help of the Holy Spirit…
You know what else I forgot to mention that pride says? It says, "I can do this on my own, just you watch me." Famous last words. Believe me, I know, because they are my last words on lots of days before I crash in burn in the wreckage of pride. Bystanders - beware of debris.
So, what to do? If Dr. Holy Ghost were going to prescribe something for a bad case of the i-can-do-it-all-myself-while-constantly-reminding-myself-of-everything-i-desreve-and-have-given-up-for-this-once-glamorous-but-really-its-destroyed-my-whole-identity-motherhood-business?
H U M I L I T Y
You know the tricky thing about humility, though? It cannot be manufactured. I like to think of it more as a seed that must be sown and reaped. How to you sow and reap humility? God's Word.
Interesting how it always come back to that book isn't it?
I need to feed and water my soul every single day with God's word if I have a stray cat in the dog park's chance of sowing and reaping any quality of Christ.
When I go to sleep tonight, I am disappointed and my cheeks might be a little wet. The day could have been better (to put it gently). But tomorrow is a new day. A new day to show my family I love them. A new day to show Jesus that I choose him. A new day to dig my heels down deep in the Bible while letting go of strongholds that keep me from moving toward the person God is growing me to be.
So, here is to putting a muzzle on my pride, and picking up the watering can for my branch off the vine.
He is the vine, we are the branches.
So. Simple. When I find myself fruitless, I look at my branch. And then, I reattach that thing the VINE.
A quote from one of my favorite books:
"When I view motherhood not as a gift from God to make me holy
but rather as a role with tasks that get in my way, I am missing out
on one of God’s ordained means of spiritual growth in my life."
Treasuring Christ When Your Hands Are Full
Gloria Furman
Get it, read it, memorize the ENTIRE book.
Treasuring Christ When Your Hands Are Full
Gloria Furman
Get it, read it, memorize the ENTIRE book.
Tuesday, March 29, 2016
Suffering, Submission, & Sovereignty
Lessons I have learned in the past few years:
1. To live is to experience suffering at some point.
2. Suffering shatters innocence and raises questions that demand answers.
3. It is only through suffering that I have truly seen my Savior and my God in full complexity.
4. Submission to Sovereignty is unequivocally the most important concept I have ever learned.
5. Submission to Sovereignty is unequivocally the most difficult practice I have ever attempted.
Blissful ignorance. It's a state to be envied and pitied at the same time.
If it was in my power, I would absolutely go back and change the last year of my life for Stephen. Any parent would. But, I would not want to go back to blissful ignorance - unaware of true suffering - or trade the worthwhile struggle that produced the richness of depth I now know. Depth of life experience. Depth of searching. Depth of understanding. Depth of reverence. Depth of empathy. Depth of respect for my God. Depth of humility.
When we suffer, we want to know why. There must be a reason why such a loving God would allow such devastation into my life. Could he not prevent it? Could he not change it in a single breath? Of course He could. But- He did not.
Questions. So many questions.
What does it look like for God to work all things together for the good of those who love him that are called according to HIS PURPOSE?
Does this mean that if He receives more glory from my pain, He chooses his glory?
What does prayer actually accomplish? Does it change things? Is it meant just to change me?
Can we pray enough to move God's heart? How does he decide what is worthy of changing His mind for?
When we pray for God's will, can we still ask for what our hearts desire? Or is it pointless?
These are just a few of the questions that plagued me during and following Stephen's brush with death. When prayer and how God works become a matter of life or death in your life - Sunday School answer just don't cut it anymore.
When one of your best friends loses her husband to cancer with a 4 and 2 year old at home.
When family friends lose their son to suicide because of medical oversight.
When it seems that friend after friend reaches out to you to let you know that their baby also is in need of open heart surgery.
When your mom has a brain tumor.
When your sister has had untamable and unrelenting diabetes since second grade.
When your cousin loses his bride a few short months after marriage.
When you're hard pressed to find a friend that has not had a miscarriage.
When one of your best friends loses her nephew to cancer at the tender age of 3.5.
This world is hard. And those that have suffered long for answers. Answers that will most likely never come. The most helpful book I have read since we found out about Stephen's heart is "Holding On To Hope" by Nancy Guthrie. In this book, Nancy write about how to suffer faithfully, with Job as her standard. She offers the suggestion that instead of asking why something has happened - we ask, for what purpose?
So what to do? Go to the source.
Get to know the God who designed the things we don't understand. I cannot understand suffering on these levels or the great mystery of prayer - but I can understand who God is because he lays it all out plaining in his book. God did not design suffering, but he does allow it. Let me find out about Him so I can understand how to cope with it.
Chase him. Seek him out. Hammer home his character traits in your heart until there is no room for doubt. That is where I am now. As I see more and more of who God is, my questions about the specific details of this life and my questions about mysteries I don't understand shrink.
He grows and I dwindle. And ever so slowly, I loosen my grip on the facade I have of control. I relax in His presence because His Word reminds me that he is worthy of my trust. Blessings reign down - he is worthy. Seemingly eternal night falls - he is worthy. God's Sovereignty is terrifying to submit to because we must face the truth that we have no control. Yet, God's Sovereignty is so comforting because we realize the truth that he has total control, and he is wholly good. When we suffer - it does not change his character - but if we allow it to, it can change ours. Submitting to God's sovereignty is a constant, conscious choice. It is so hard. But it is so freeing.
Let the Owl Game Be Enough
Do you ever get to the end of the day and feel like a total failure of a parent? Rhetorical question, obviously, because that's basically in the definition of parenthood.
Parent (n.): one who cares for a miniature human whom brings great joy and total devastation on a moment to moment basis resulting in great love and total failure at the end of most days.
Too negative? I think not. We love those tiny people with a fierceness that says I will kill anyone that so much as makes fun of how much they weigh as a baby or how they run at the playground. But let's be honest. They can reduce us to a puddle of doubt and confusion with a single tantrum or an "I don't want you, go away!"
However, I have discovered something in the my long stretch of 2.5 years of parenting. At the end of the day when I lay my head on my pillow and examine my conscience, my feelings about my success or failure as a mama is greatly influenced by how I spent my mental energy that day and less about how my children actually behaved.
On any given day, my oldest son, Luke, can be the sweetest most brilliant child God ever created. Or… He can be a grabby gorilla, mess making, tantrum throwing, authority challenging, crazy kid. Also known as a two-almost-three-year-old version of Sour Patch Kids.
Children will misbehave regardless of our parenting. They are miniature sinners. Our goal is to point them to Jesus in the hopes that they will fall in love with him and spend their lives serving him, emulating him, and loving him. BUT we cannot control them or cure them of sin.
When I go to bed feeling like I failed at motherhood, it is not because of the behavior of my children. Failure depends entirely on the decisions I made about how I spent my time that day, where my mind was, and the condition of my spirit as I fulfilled my responsibilities.
I feel worst when I have spent my day with a distracted mind. Making lists of things that I need to get done, do better, or change. Then allowing those things to occupy my thoughts. Have you ever had a conversation with someone that clearly was thinking of other things? What does it communicate?
1. You are not a priority.
2. I do not respect you.
3. Other things, not present, are more important that you right in front of me.
Need an example? Playing Hoot Owl Hoot with Luke, instead of enjoying working with him to get all the owls back to the nest before the sun comes up, I am thinking about how I need to start that diet program in the next week so I can look the way I want to look at the Wheaton graduation next month.
Seriously? Who the heck cares. And believe me, he knows I'm not really with him.
Or how about this one… Stephen (13 months) is putting pieces of a puzzle in the right place for the first time and smiling because he is so proud of himself - except I missed it because I was too busy making this list:
1. Learn to use my essential oils.
2. Make Stephen's first year shutterfly book.
3. Finish painting the cabinets.
4. Start that James bible study.
5. Start a blog
Is there anything wrong with those things? No. Is there something wrong with allowing those self-imposed goals infiltrate my thoughts and distract me from the joys of the day and opportunities to SHARE the day with my kids, yes. Most assuredly.
To the Point:
When my mind is so busy carrying things like essential oils, grocery lists, fitness goals, etc - it doesn't leave any space for me to BE with my kids or REST in the gift of today. Goals are great, we should all have them. But goals become stealers of joy if they create a spirit of discontentment.
So here is the challenge for me and for you:
Give our children full attention and consideration as they grow up before our eyes so that we can sleep in peace knowing that we have VALUED our children and RESPECTED them as tiny souls. Our actions, attention, and intentionality have communicated: I love you. I love spending time with you. You are enough to capture my attention.
Glory in the moment. Make goals that add value and purpose to the life of your family - but be sure those goals inspire positive motivation and not negative discontentment or distraction from the joys of today. Eternal perspective says: invest in the souls of your children with your time, love, and attention. Because blogs, kitchen cabinets, the weight on the scale, and the grocery list look ridiculous in comparison.
#priorities
For where your treasure is, there your heart (and mind) will be also. Matthew 6:21
**Let me be clear. Obviously we must get things done and cannot constantly sit and gawk at the awesomeness of our offspring. It is important that they learn to self entertain, and we certainly need to keep our respective ships afloat with tasks and chores. But, in general, when we are spending time with our kids (or husbands, or friends, or strangers) we should be spending time with them in earnest.
Parent (n.): one who cares for a miniature human whom brings great joy and total devastation on a moment to moment basis resulting in great love and total failure at the end of most days.
Too negative? I think not. We love those tiny people with a fierceness that says I will kill anyone that so much as makes fun of how much they weigh as a baby or how they run at the playground. But let's be honest. They can reduce us to a puddle of doubt and confusion with a single tantrum or an "I don't want you, go away!"
However, I have discovered something in the my long stretch of 2.5 years of parenting. At the end of the day when I lay my head on my pillow and examine my conscience, my feelings about my success or failure as a mama is greatly influenced by how I spent my mental energy that day and less about how my children actually behaved.
On any given day, my oldest son, Luke, can be the sweetest most brilliant child God ever created. Or… He can be a grabby gorilla, mess making, tantrum throwing, authority challenging, crazy kid. Also known as a two-almost-three-year-old version of Sour Patch Kids.
Children will misbehave regardless of our parenting. They are miniature sinners. Our goal is to point them to Jesus in the hopes that they will fall in love with him and spend their lives serving him, emulating him, and loving him. BUT we cannot control them or cure them of sin.
When I go to bed feeling like I failed at motherhood, it is not because of the behavior of my children. Failure depends entirely on the decisions I made about how I spent my time that day, where my mind was, and the condition of my spirit as I fulfilled my responsibilities.
I feel worst when I have spent my day with a distracted mind. Making lists of things that I need to get done, do better, or change. Then allowing those things to occupy my thoughts. Have you ever had a conversation with someone that clearly was thinking of other things? What does it communicate?
1. You are not a priority.
2. I do not respect you.
3. Other things, not present, are more important that you right in front of me.
Need an example? Playing Hoot Owl Hoot with Luke, instead of enjoying working with him to get all the owls back to the nest before the sun comes up, I am thinking about how I need to start that diet program in the next week so I can look the way I want to look at the Wheaton graduation next month.
Seriously? Who the heck cares. And believe me, he knows I'm not really with him.
Or how about this one… Stephen (13 months) is putting pieces of a puzzle in the right place for the first time and smiling because he is so proud of himself - except I missed it because I was too busy making this list:
1. Learn to use my essential oils.
2. Make Stephen's first year shutterfly book.
3. Finish painting the cabinets.
4. Start that James bible study.
5. Start a blog
Is there anything wrong with those things? No. Is there something wrong with allowing those self-imposed goals infiltrate my thoughts and distract me from the joys of the day and opportunities to SHARE the day with my kids, yes. Most assuredly.
To the Point:
When my mind is so busy carrying things like essential oils, grocery lists, fitness goals, etc - it doesn't leave any space for me to BE with my kids or REST in the gift of today. Goals are great, we should all have them. But goals become stealers of joy if they create a spirit of discontentment.
So here is the challenge for me and for you:
Give our children full attention and consideration as they grow up before our eyes so that we can sleep in peace knowing that we have VALUED our children and RESPECTED them as tiny souls. Our actions, attention, and intentionality have communicated: I love you. I love spending time with you. You are enough to capture my attention.
Glory in the moment. Make goals that add value and purpose to the life of your family - but be sure those goals inspire positive motivation and not negative discontentment or distraction from the joys of today. Eternal perspective says: invest in the souls of your children with your time, love, and attention. Because blogs, kitchen cabinets, the weight on the scale, and the grocery list look ridiculous in comparison.
#priorities
For where your treasure is, there your heart (and mind) will be also. Matthew 6:21
**Let me be clear. Obviously we must get things done and cannot constantly sit and gawk at the awesomeness of our offspring. It is important that they learn to self entertain, and we certainly need to keep our respective ships afloat with tasks and chores. But, in general, when we are spending time with our kids (or husbands, or friends, or strangers) we should be spending time with them in earnest.
Monday, March 28, 2016
To Glory In The Moment
Glory in the Moment.
To glory in a moment is to take in everything it has to offer - and cherish it. Relish the moment. Be present in the moment. So. Present.
Glory in the Moment
Glory, as in heaven. Eternity. Eternity in every moment. Every moment in light of Eternity. The two cannot be separated. If they are separated, the moment loses perspective. Without eternal perspective, moments become mundane.
Moments matter. Even the smallest ones.
Motherhood is hard. Without eternal perspective, it can become a string of endless tasks, exhaustion, and failures. I never really accomplish anything. I can't win at motherhood. No one measures my performance. No report card. No raises. No measurable growth. Finish the laundry, for about 10 seconds before something else is in the hamper… unload the dishwasher to make room for the already dirty dishes. Diapers. Need I say more? Dinner…. sweet goodness, dinner. Might as well be a curse word. How hard can it be? Plan meals… get the stuff from the store… make the stuff. Repeat. Why is it so hard? Sleep… evasive sleep. And the crying… Everyone in my house during the day has big feelings, and often times those feelings are expressed in tear form. Just no. Too much crying. I never finish that list. Ever. Let's be honest, I'm lucky if I brush my teeth twice a day and shower every 3 days.
I digress. Motherhood is hard. And if we aren't careful, the hard can eclipse the MAGIC. That's right, I said magic. What's magic about it? Tiny human souls are in our care. They have been gifted to us. Gifted to us to wipe and spank their butts - I mean shepherd their hearts. Both are true.
Tiny human souls. ETERNAL beings meet us first. Humbling. But, Jamison, what about the dishes and dinner and diapers and laundry and sweeping and hosting and baths and bills and oh my gosh I cannot build another tower or feel guilty about my children watching The Jungle Book one more time today - I mean this week? Well, let me tell you about all those things. They are the tiny pieces of sand that if you magnify enough in your mind will become boulders that crush your joy and distort your vision of the gift that is your life and the purpose to which you are called… and most importantly that reduce you to a shadow of who you are called to be as an individual soul - an image bearer of God himself - and as the caregiver in your home.
Do you know what matters? Eternity. Jesus on the cross saving us from our sins that we might live FOREVER in his presence. That's all. That is the ONLY thing that matters. And the only way anything else matters in this world is if it has eternal value. Do you know what has eternal value? Souls. Tiny souls. Friend souls. Husband souls. Stranger souls. Celebrity souls. (I just like celebrities. I know not why.)
So here is what I'm getting at… in order to live this life in the richest possible way we MUST:
1. Be present in the moments that make up all of our days. Be present as in: put down our phones, look people in the eye, give undivided attention, be INTENTIONAL with your time, and for the love of everything stop making lists of all the things we need to do or change that have NO eternal value or purpose at all. Be in the moment with your kids, friends, husbands, strangers - yourself even. The moment. Be. In. It. It changes everything.
2. Maintain kingdom perspective at all times. How does whatever situation is going on, or irking you, or actually truly crushing your spirit and breaking your heart fit into the BIG picture of Jesus' story of redeeming all things to himself?
The only way we honor Jesus, is to never dwarf what he did in light of our temporary circumstance. It should always be the reverse. We look at our temporary circumstances in light of his sacrifice, grace, and love.
The only way we honor the souls around us, is to give our whole selves to them without petty distraction.
The only way we honor our own soul is to feed it, protect it, stretch it, and open it through intentional and thoughtful care. What we watch, read, do, dwell on, hope for, dream of, give power to, etc.
The intention of this blog is to offer ideas and share experiences on how to be purposeful, intentional, and fierce about making this vapor of a life what we are all so desperately hoping it will be. Meaningful. Worthy. Honoring. Inspiring. Joyful. Deep. Passionate. Beautiful. Complete.
We want to squeeze every last drop of purpose out of it.
Let's frickin' get after it.
To glory in a moment is to take in everything it has to offer - and cherish it. Relish the moment. Be present in the moment. So. Present.
Glory in the Moment
Glory, as in heaven. Eternity. Eternity in every moment. Every moment in light of Eternity. The two cannot be separated. If they are separated, the moment loses perspective. Without eternal perspective, moments become mundane.
Moments matter. Even the smallest ones.
Motherhood is hard. Without eternal perspective, it can become a string of endless tasks, exhaustion, and failures. I never really accomplish anything. I can't win at motherhood. No one measures my performance. No report card. No raises. No measurable growth. Finish the laundry, for about 10 seconds before something else is in the hamper… unload the dishwasher to make room for the already dirty dishes. Diapers. Need I say more? Dinner…. sweet goodness, dinner. Might as well be a curse word. How hard can it be? Plan meals… get the stuff from the store… make the stuff. Repeat. Why is it so hard? Sleep… evasive sleep. And the crying… Everyone in my house during the day has big feelings, and often times those feelings are expressed in tear form. Just no. Too much crying. I never finish that list. Ever. Let's be honest, I'm lucky if I brush my teeth twice a day and shower every 3 days.
I digress. Motherhood is hard. And if we aren't careful, the hard can eclipse the MAGIC. That's right, I said magic. What's magic about it? Tiny human souls are in our care. They have been gifted to us. Gifted to us to wipe and spank their butts - I mean shepherd their hearts. Both are true.
Tiny human souls. ETERNAL beings meet us first. Humbling. But, Jamison, what about the dishes and dinner and diapers and laundry and sweeping and hosting and baths and bills and oh my gosh I cannot build another tower or feel guilty about my children watching The Jungle Book one more time today - I mean this week? Well, let me tell you about all those things. They are the tiny pieces of sand that if you magnify enough in your mind will become boulders that crush your joy and distort your vision of the gift that is your life and the purpose to which you are called… and most importantly that reduce you to a shadow of who you are called to be as an individual soul - an image bearer of God himself - and as the caregiver in your home.
Do you know what matters? Eternity. Jesus on the cross saving us from our sins that we might live FOREVER in his presence. That's all. That is the ONLY thing that matters. And the only way anything else matters in this world is if it has eternal value. Do you know what has eternal value? Souls. Tiny souls. Friend souls. Husband souls. Stranger souls. Celebrity souls. (I just like celebrities. I know not why.)
So here is what I'm getting at… in order to live this life in the richest possible way we MUST:
1. Be present in the moments that make up all of our days. Be present as in: put down our phones, look people in the eye, give undivided attention, be INTENTIONAL with your time, and for the love of everything stop making lists of all the things we need to do or change that have NO eternal value or purpose at all. Be in the moment with your kids, friends, husbands, strangers - yourself even. The moment. Be. In. It. It changes everything.
2. Maintain kingdom perspective at all times. How does whatever situation is going on, or irking you, or actually truly crushing your spirit and breaking your heart fit into the BIG picture of Jesus' story of redeeming all things to himself?
The only way we honor Jesus, is to never dwarf what he did in light of our temporary circumstance. It should always be the reverse. We look at our temporary circumstances in light of his sacrifice, grace, and love.
The only way we honor the souls around us, is to give our whole selves to them without petty distraction.
The only way we honor our own soul is to feed it, protect it, stretch it, and open it through intentional and thoughtful care. What we watch, read, do, dwell on, hope for, dream of, give power to, etc.
The intention of this blog is to offer ideas and share experiences on how to be purposeful, intentional, and fierce about making this vapor of a life what we are all so desperately hoping it will be. Meaningful. Worthy. Honoring. Inspiring. Joyful. Deep. Passionate. Beautiful. Complete.
We want to squeeze every last drop of purpose out of it.
Let's frickin' get after it.
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