A New Grief

Micah is getting older. I am surprised by the new kind of grief that is upon me. It involves all the things Micah is doing or will do; things Emily didn't get to do.

I put him in the swing outside today...she never did that.

He is beginning to roll...she never did that.

She never crawled, or walked, or talked, or celebrated a birthday.

I am crushed despite the head knowledge that Heaven is so much more than these earthly milestones. Sometimes I can only think with my heart.

The bizarre, flip-side of this is the feeling that it is wrong for Micah to be doing these things. There are times I wish I could just fast-forward, get past his 1st birthday and go from there. I am cherishing him, but continually grieving through it all.

Every now and then I think Micah is a girl. I still long for a baby girl. I fear the Lord will never give me another. Please don't think I don't love my little boy. I do. Dearly. He is a dear, sweet blessing to me; a healing balm...not a bandaid, that covers the wound, but a balm that acknowledges the wound is still there.

Melia talks a lot of Emily and compares Micah to her. As I was writing this, she said to him, "When Emily was little, she was just the size of you." Then, she looked at me and says, "Micah says he doesn't know who Emily is." "Then, we must make sure to tell him about her," I replied. She often acts as if Emmy is still right here with us. It is very precious to me.

It is the beauty of those moments that counteracts the utter horror of others. A few days ago, I put Micah in a purple towel after his bath and when I laid him on the bed I had to quickly get the towel off of him and out of my site. I could not help but see Emily lying there when she was so very tiny as I took pictures of her to document her weight "gain"...but she never did gain.

There are other times when I hear the usual infant noises and find myself sucking air in fear. I panic at the slightest anything that doesn't sound quite right to me.The panic has spread to my older children who hear my fright when Micah makes a noise I don't recognize from the car seat. "Is Micah OK?!" I shout. They panic and scramble to check on him. I live in a state of forever tellling myself to CALM DOWN.

The worst thing about this "new grief" is the fact that Emmy is beginning to fade. I can no longer "feel" her in my arms. I cannot see her as vividly. I'm beginning to see her in still frames. Just bits and pieces...not whole storylines. I hate that. Yes, it means the memories are less intense, but it feels as though I am losing the only thing I have left...the memories of her. I am caught between not wanting to miss her so much and not wanting to not miss her.

Since the one year anniversary, I've grieved less and less on these pages; however, I've found that with time grief becomes less about crying and more about remembering and working through the aftermath of your new reality. It's tough to do that on paper (or keyboard) because it just happens. One moment I am doing dishes, the next I am struggling with a gripping fear. I pray my way through it and eventually find myself on the other side.

It is there that I hug my living children a little tighter, praise the Lord for them and my little Emmy, and ask a special favor that if at all possible could Emily know how much she is loved and missed.

Who I Am

For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to be a wife and mother. Every year, as my mom filled out my School Days book I dutifully came up with some appropriate career for her to write on the

What I Want to Be When I Grow Up line.

It was something like teacher or nurse or some such thing, but never was it wife and mother. Somewhere in my 7 year old head, I knew wife and mother just wasn't what that phrase What I Want to Be When I Grow Up meant.

As I matured, I realized that my desire to have a home and family of my own was simply not enough in the world's eyes. I went to college and pretended to be getting my degree so I could be a writer (or an editor if I couldn't get a book to sell). When asked what I would be doing with my life after college, I never said what I really wanted to do...be a wife and mother.

When I became engaged at the age of 18, I was highly encouraged to wait until I finished college to marry. I married at the age of 19. I was then highly encouraged to wait until I finished college to start a family. I had my first child a month after I turned 21. I was still in college; so was Daddy.

My goal had been accomplished. I was a wife and a mother. I had a dreamy husband. I had a home, or rather, an apartment to call my own. I had a cute blond-haired little boy, and I was happy.

But, according to the world, this is not enough. This could not be true happiness. There is no possible way I enjoy this.

I have wasted my degree.
I have wasted my brain.
I have wasted money and time and effort.

I have noticed in certain circles, it is assumed I have nothing to talk about because I have baby spit-up on my shoulder. It is assumed I cannot speak intelligently about anything beyond breastfeeding and changing diapers. It is assumed I do not understand the business world because I stay home all day, immersed in toys and Cheerios.

These assumptions are a temptation to me.

Yes, you read that correctly.

I am tempted.

I am tempted to legitimize my stay-at-homeness by saying, "I'm a freelance writer." I am tempted to vindicate my intelligence by spouting off my college GPA. I am tempted to lean toward verbosity (where "transgression is unavoidable" see Proverbs 10:19). All this, because I don't want anyone to think wife and mother go hand in hand with lazy and ignorant.

But, who am I trying to convince?

Is it a world where a feminist regime makes my domesticity look "less than"?

OR

Is it a woman who fears they are right?

Am I so uncomfortable with the words wife and mother that I feel I need to resort to making up some long job title as a way of thumbing my nose at the world who is thumbing its nose at me? Do I feel as though the only way I am going to be taken seriously is if I pretend to be someone other than who I am? Or wait...

Am I afraid the Bible is wrong?

Am I afraid that when the Lord says young women are to be "keepers at home" that maybe, just maybe...it isn't true? Or maybe He only meant a handful of women were to be keepers at home. Or maybe He meant that if you don't have anything better to do, you could be a keeper at home.

And since, I had nothing better to do, I chose to be a keeper at home...a wife and a mother and that is it.

You see, every time I try to legitimize what I do by making it sound like something other than what it is, I am implying Scripture is not suffcient. I am suggesting that what the Lord deems the perfect place for young women isn't really the perfect place for young women. I am suggesting that I have chosen one of many options. I am letting those around me know that I could be more like the world if I wanted to be because I have the college degree to back me up; however, in my piety, I have chosen a Titus 2 lifestyle. My attitude toward the words wife and mother speak volumes of what I believe to be the truth.

In the end it will not matter what my college GPA was.

In the end it will not matter if I wrote the great American novel.

In the end it will not matter how many people I impressed nor how many people I annoyed. (and I know there's more than a few of you reading this!)

It will all come down to faithfulness. Did I "rightly divide the word of truth"? (2 Tim 2:15)

I have to stop making excuses, stop trying to sound bigger and better according to the standards of a sin-ridden world. I have to boldly speak the truth...

I did not pick wife and mother out of a long list of possible careers. It is who I am because I am HIS.

Fruitful Friends

Recently, I was listening to a sermon I downloaded entitled Feeding On God: Cultivating a Fruitful Life in the Word. In there, Mike Bullmore makes the assertion that we should be asking often of our friends how their life in the Word is. This comment made me consider many of my closest friendships and what makes them unique.

It is the fact that our conversations are often peppered (or should I say salted) with spiritual matters. We discuss the Lord and His Word on a regular basis. We encourage each other according to the Bible.

A dear friend of mine reminded me of this fact just this week when she said she realized how nice it was to have a friend with whom she could discuss spiritual matters.

Does that mean you can only be friends with someone who quotes the Bible every time you talk? Well, no...BUT, shouldn't your closest friends be those who readily share how their spiritual life is? Shouldn't you be able to see fruit in their lives? Of course! These are the people to whom you go to for a word of encouragement or a swift kick in the back side. You know what they say is based on Biblical wisdom and you can trust it.

A fruitful friendship is a true friendship.

So, my friends...how is your life in the Word these days???

Baby Needs New Shoes!!

Let's be realistic here...no baby really needs shoes. In fact, I have a drawer full of baby shoes that never get worn. They are totally adorable, but when I look at them and look at baby Micah's feet, I just can't bring myself to stuff those scrumptious little feet into those stiff shoes.

However, I have been greatly intrigued by the latest in baby shoes coming from companies like Robeez and Shooshoos. These baby shoes, that go all the way up to toddler sizes, are made from a soft leather and have adorable little designs on them. They do cost a pretty penny, though.

A couple of weeks ago, while at a cloth diaper Chat-n-Play, the hostess showed us a pair of homemade soft soled shoes that were very sweet and looked fairly easy to make. The soles were not a soft leather like the name brands, but rather a suede type material. Those of us in the group who sew, turned the shoes inside out and studied every inch of them, confidant we could make something similar. Thus began my quest to find material suitable for the bottoms of some homemade soft-soled baby shoes.

Never did I expect to find some so soon! Sitting in the WalMart remnant basket, there it was...



A brown suede like material that was perfect for making shoes and at an unbeatable price! Giddy little me snatched up that remnant and threw it into my cart, trying hard to conceal my glee!

So, tonight I began researching patterns online for these sweet little shoes so my find would not go to waste. My first stop landed me at a site for making all sorts of baby items called Make Your Own Baby Stuff. From this site I found this pattern for making my very own pair of soft-soled baby shoes.

I quickly printed the pattern and went to work. In about 15 minutes I had a pair of shoes completed! Amazing!

Here's the finished product...



It is too late to be trying them on Micah (and the pattern does say it generally fits size 6-9 months), but I am pleased as punch to have found such a bargain and have acquired a new homemade baby gift to give to friends!

(ps-yes, I know I said I was cutting down on projects...I am...I really, really am!!)

Do They See God?

mirror

Tuesday night I attended my local homeschooling support group meeting. I attend a rather unconventional homeschool support group called Visionary Christian Home Educators. The group is comprised of moms of all ages coming together for the purpose of exhorting one another in the Word of God in order to catch a "vision" for homeschooling for God's glory.

The mom who leads the group put together a "course" on homeschooling with a vision. A lesson is provided each month that guides us along the path of discerning what the Lord would have for our homeschool experience. This course is not for the faint of heart!

I come home from VCHE with my brain on overload and my heart on fire. I never fail to be refreshed and challenged by these monthly meetings. Tuesday night was no exception.

Something I gleaned from that meeting I wanted to share here. It is something that weighed heavy on my heart from the moment I heard the words. It is something that made me really examine myself and my day; how my time is spent, how I interact with my children, how I interact with my God.

These are the words that cut me to the quick:
"Can your children tell that their right relationship with the Lord is important?"

Do my children know that everything I teach, every disciplinary action I take, every moment I spend is done to the glory of our Lord and Savior? Do they know that it is more important to learn the ways of God than to learn their times tables? Do they know that my heart is more burdened that they obey the Lord's commandments than that they act "just so" in public? As Denise Sproul says in her book, Tending Your Garden, "our goal is to raise godly seed, not well-ordered heathen."

In addition to this, do my children see me obeying the Lord? Do they hear me speak of the Lord? Do they know that He is real in my life? Do they know that He is not just a "part" of my life, but that He IS my life?

In short, DO THEY SEE GOD?

Every single day, in every single thing...DO THEY SEE GOD?

I have to intentionally disciple (the name of Tuesday's session by the way) my children. They will no doubtedly be discipled by my actions and words, but what will they be discipled in? Will they learn to hurry through life flitting from one menial task to another? Will they think life here on earth is only about getting the grunge work out of the way so we can have fun? Will they think the world is all about them and what they can get out of it? Am I discipling them in the ways of the Lord or in the ways of the world? Am I leading them down the narrow path or the wide path? DO THEY SEE GOD?

I need to examine my actions and see if they line up with my words...my children are doing just this every moment of every day. My children are watching me and one day they will be able to fully reason and realize if Mommy is a hypocrite. Children are very forgiving, but there will come a day when they will know for certain if Mommy is talking out both sides of her mouth. They will not be able to ignore if Mommy is saying one thing and doing another. And if I am saying one thing and doing another, why? Is it because my day isn't ordered properly? Is it because I am too afraid of what others may think of me? Is it because I have gotten too comfortable?

My children cannot possibly see God in my life if I am not constantly looking toward my Lord. Like Moses on the mount, my countenance should reflect my Savior. And it has nothing to do with forcing myself to spend time in the Word so I can be a better parent. I should hunger and thirst for God for my own soul's sake. If I am following after my Lord, desiring more, wanting to know Him more, then my children cannot help but see Him. I should be so saturated with His Word that I am dripping gospel. What is in my heart will be on my lips. (Mt 12:34)

I am hungry...I am thirsty...I am hanging on His words. Lord, fill me and let them see You!

This post is linked to:

Resource: Tyranny of the Urgent

If the previous post struck a chord with you, then let me introduce you to a great little resource. Tyranny of the Urgent is an essay by Charles Hummel written in 1967. It addresses the issue of discerning the important from the urgent. It outlines how to go about restructuring your life in order to reflect what is truly important. It is a great reminder right at your fingertips.

You can follow the above link and purchase a 5 pack of these little booklets (small enough to fit easily into a purse!). Keep one for yourself and pass out the rest to other mamas struggling with too many projects and not enough time.

Too Many Projects

I love learning something new. The challenge of the actual learning process is enough to give me a high for days on end. However, when the rush is over, I find myself left with scads of projects and not nearly enough time or gumption to complete any of them. This brings me to a desperate moment when I stash the projects and pretend they do not exist even though in the back of my head I know they are there and literally screaming at me to finish them.

But, I can't.

I realized tonight as I surveyed all the unfinished projects in my sewing room, that no matter how hard I work from sun up until sun down, I will never complete all the things I have started.

I found a pair of gauchos that were cut out nearly a year ago and put into a ziplock bag. I found old dress shirts of my husbands that were on their way to becoming sun dresses for our 4 year old. There were matching blouses and short sets for the girls that were barely begun and a whole pile of fitted diapers that had most of their velcro ripped off in the hopes of someday having snaps added to them. There were wool sweaters in various stages of becoming diaper covers, longies, and shorties. There was newly washed fabric lying hopeful of being transformed into dresses for the girls, and other material already cut to size for skirts. And these are just the sewing projects I had amassed.

There are photos needing to be put into scrapbooks, there are household notebooks needing to be organized, there are online articles and sermons needing to be poured over and listened to, and a myriad of books needing to be read.

Projects aren't bad things as long as they remain in their place and in manageable numbers. However, projects tend to breed projects that tend to breed more projects until you have a whole clan of projects living under your roof demanding your money and eating up your time. Even noble projects can easily become draining if not kept in check.

And yet, we mothers tend to be project princesses. And homeschool mothers are project queens! There is always another lap book to make, salt map to create, lesson plan to write out, schedule to try, conference to attend, or book to read, and since we are overachievers by nature, we think we can somehow do it all and still sleep somewhere within the 24 hours God has given us. Yet, this is utterly ridiculous! And somewhere, deep down, we know it!

It was this epiphany hitting the surface that I experienced tonight. As my head hurt from trying to figure out what project to do first, my heart cried out for freedom from all these projects. Yes, I said FREEDOM. I had allowed myself to become slave to these projects. I was willing to work day in and day out to complete them all and all the while, taking on more and more and more.

Had I stayed just a bit longer in that sewing room, I would have become an overwhelmed and discouraged mama. I would have sat there and beat myself up over all these project that were impossible to complete. I would tell myself how I should find the time to get them all done no matter the cost. I would find someone to compare myself to and end up wallowing in my own self-pity. However, the Lord opened my eyes and led me out of that sewing room and pointed me in the direction of freedom.

Those projects will never be satisfied. And as long as I chase after them, they will continue to have a grasp on my life, taking me away from what truly matters...my family. When I stand before my Lord giving an account of what I did in my lifetime with what He gave me, will He be more pleased that I completed every single project on my to do list or that I squeezed the goodie out of every moment I was granted with my children?

Projects don't become followers of Christ. Projects don't fill the emptiness of a heart that cries out for sustenance. I won't be taking the projects with me to Heaven.

I have to tame the project beast. I have to choose 1 or 2 projects that are manageable and let the rest slide. If the beckoning of the ones left out becomes too loud, I'll have to kick them out of my house. If someday I return to those extra projects and find I am not nearly as interested in them as I once was, I give myself permission to pitch them without guilt.

Ahhhhhh! How refreshing!