Broken. . .for the Better

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Broken for the Better

A few weeks ago our Kellen, who just turned 2, broke his arm. He was at a birthday party with his daddy. His brother and I were at a different birthday party. He was playing on a tree house-looking thing poised and ready to go down the slide. His daddy was at the end, ready and waiting to catch him. {you know how we parents are – ready and willing to catch our babies}. But Kellen changed his mind and ran to the steps instead {you know how our babies do, they change their mind and run to a place where we can’t always catch them}. And just like that, he jumped off the other side and my husband couldn’t get there in time to catch him. He crushed his right arm much like when you crush a coke can {these are the words of the doctor, not me}.

My husband texted me and said – “call when you are on your way home please.” So I did, and he said – “where are you? Maybe you should meet me at the emergency room.” So began my breakdown and let’s just say, we now know who has to be the parent in moments like these.

Praise God! It was just simply a broken arm. I mean, it stinks. The pain for him, the next 6 weeks of not being able to use his arm, but people – this is JUST a broken bone, and we could handle that. It made me pause though and think about the horror some parents have to go through – the scary moments of life that are reality for some.

Kellen did just fine! He looked like Bob Dole for a few weeks because he couldn’t be in a cast so he was in a sling and a wrap, but his cuteness was magnified 100X and I am sure I took way too many pictures.

The doctor told us last week that his recovery is finished. 6 weeks in a sling and after seeing a few pictures on the screen he says the new bone Kellen has growing is strong and healthy and maybe even stronger than the bone he had before this accident.

Broken. And now growing. Maybe even stronger for it.

Ahhhh, that’s the gospel right there in a nutshell.

Friends, we are ALL so very broken. In a million different ways. And this life – the world around us – the wear and tear of walking in a place that is just simply not our home – makes us all beaten, battered, and no matter what – BROKEN.

Bad choices, bad luck. . .whatever it is the slingshot of life has thrown at you has probably hit you in the face, more than a time or two. . .

So that’s the bad news, but here, HERE is the good news – this is NOT meant to feel like home. I am certain many of us have seen, heard, or read that at some point. We probably have it tucked away in our hearts for the hard days. We need to bring it back out. Tattoo it on our arms. Paint a pretty picture that outlines that truth and hang it in the most prominent place in our homes. Then tell ourselces, every.single.day. Life is only for the living and we are often stronger because of our broken places.

I think Hemmingway had it half right when he said in A Farewell to Arms – “The world breaks everyone and afterward many are strong in the broken places.” He went on to say, “But those that it will not break, it kills. It kills the very good and the very gentle and the very brave impartially. If you are none of these you can be sure it will kill you too but there will be no special hurry.”

I don’t agree with the second part of this. . .I believe that people are stronger in the broken places. Christ makes those broken places part of your story, your journey, your gold – if you will. Without Christ, those broken places may be stronger, but they are calloused.

Don’t allow your heart to be calloused. The Creator has big plans to turn your brokenness into HIS glory. And if you allow him – pushing quickly past pride, heartache, and the rejection of this world – he will shine a light through the cracks of our heart to show the world who HE is and what He can do.

Of one thing I am certain, there IS a God. I couldn’t go through carrying two baby boys into this world without knowing that He is here as sure as I live and breathe. And this I know to be true – HE has never stopped loving you and me. And sometimes, like parenting, love looks a little more like discipline or even sometimes pain. That is because this part of life is truly the backside of our canvas. Someday, we will see other side and just how beautifully the twists and turns of our journey have made for an incredibly beautiful portrait that only HE can paint.

And one more thing, since I am on my preaching soapbox today. . .how about we all {especially us mothers} cut each other some slack? A little less judgment of each other’s broken places or the speck in someone else’s eye {please know, I am talking to myself here, too}. We all have those things and no one needs to point them out or call them wrong – not even in the name of Jesus. As we have seen, He can stand up for himself. We just need to follow Him. Period.

The ruins he makes beautiful. The broken, he heals. Stronger. Better. Than. Before.

How is he making your broken places stronger during this season?

Jess Sig

{Photo Credit}

Jess Chambers

Jess Chambers juggles the best of both worlds on a daily basis … a family she adores and a job she loves (well, most days). Wife to Aaron and mom to two amazing, energetic little boys – Brody Rayf (3 ½) and Kellen Rhys (1), she aims daily to make the chaos look classy.

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How To Stop Disliking Your Children

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Disliking Your Children

Although I am ashamed to put it on the record, there have been lots of times when I have disliked my own children. Have you ever been there? One of my worst fears as a mother of little children was to find myself stuck with them through the summer months, bored, fussy and driving me crazy. {Cue horror movie music.} I just couldn’t cope with the demands they placed on me. I looked for every possible VBS, day camp, and summer activity where I could drop them off and have a couple of hours of sanity! {Is this sounding familiar at all?}

Before I knew it, shipping them off to activities became my default way of coping with them. They became my “problem.”

Last year we needed to make some changes for my daughter’s schooling for many reasons, and we ended up doing a year of homeschool. I have never been one to jump for joy at the thought of homeschooling my children, so I kept trying to give God some other suggestions. He just smiled at me with His all-knowing smile; and then He told me something that started to transform my relationship with my children. He told me in the deepest place in my heart, “I want you to apprentice your daughter to yourself this year. Take her under your wing and train her. Teach her how you think and the ways I have shown you to live and love and treat other people.”

Something in my hardened heart melted just a bit.

So, I had an 8 year old apprentice this year. She went almost everywhere with me; we worked on school, cleaned the house, cooked meals, ran errands, served at church, talked, laughed, cried, fought, struggled…and my love for her grew immensely. By having her constantly at my side, we grew to know each other in a new way. We forged a deep bond that we so desperately needed as mother and daughter.

This is the first summer that I’m not freaking out about being with my children. I’m actually kind of excited about it.

Do you want to stop disliking your kids? Draw them in close.

Study them. Hear them.

Ask God what He sees when He looks at them.

Share pieces of your heart with them. Let them love you. Let them fail. Let them make big messes. Teach them how to set things right. Invest your time and attention in them, and your affections will follow.

Have you ever felt like your kids were a “problem”? What are you doing to melt your dislike into enjoyment?

Crista Sig

{Photo Credit}

Crista Ashworth

Crista Ashworth is a thirty-something wife and mom who is passionate about Jesus. She is a newbie homeschooler on top of the other million things she does as a mom. She considers herself a professional laugher, a foodie and a covert operative for the Kingdom. You can also find Crista writing regularly at Destiny in Bloom online magazine and on her personal blog Dishes and Diapers.

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7 Ways to Find Motivation

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Finding Motivation

We all have those days where we feel like we’re in a funk. I woke up today feeling stuck. In all actuality I felt like curling up on the couch and would have been happy to stay there all day. With two little ones though that keep the word “mommy” on repeat, this wasn’t likely to happen.

There are a few things I’ve come to realize that can help bring a little more life to days like these.

Seven Tips for Motivation

1. Focus on the important. Instead of being overwhelmed by all there is to do, narrow down the things that are necessary and focus on those first  Don’t forget to celebrate your accomplishments along the way.

2. Unplug. There’s a correlation for me between the amount of time I spend online and my feelings of being overwhelmed.  Sometimes you need to just sign off and let your brain rest instead of constantly feeding it with social media, info, and news.

3. Check your diet. This is the one I hate the most because these funk days are likely the ones where I want to eat my body weight in chocolate.  However, food fuels our body, and if we’re putting bad stuff into our bodies then it shouldn’t surprise us that we feel bad.

4. Get fresh air. Step outside for a few minutes or take a walk.  It makes such a difference.

5. Start one thing. You feel like doing nothing, but chances are if you just get up and do one thing, motivation will begin to build.  Start with something you need to do like sweeping the floor, running an errand, or making your bed.

6. Set the mood. I’m not talking Barry White music and rose petals (unless that’s your kind of thing).  I mean make your environment more lovely and enjoyable to you.  For me it’s lighting a candle and putting on some fun music like Rend Collective Experiment. These simple things play to my senses and create more of a motivating atmosphere.

7. Pray. This should be the first thing I do, but too often it’s not.  God can sustain us and give us the fuel we need.  I need to tap into the source of life that is already within me!

He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak. Isaiah 40: 29

What helps motivate you when you’re in a slump?

{Photo Credit}

{Today’s post is from our new friend Lindsay of Little House Big World. We are thrilled to have this mama here with us today, sharing her experience and these simple, practical tips.}

_MGL6628Lindsay’s days are filled with diapers, dirty floors, laughter, and tears. She’s a wife, mom of two, and former elementary school teacher. Her heart is for missions both locally and globally and for teaching her children what being Jesus’ hands and feet looks like to a hurting world.  She doesn’t claim to do it well, but enjoys the journey of learning how her little home can make a difference in this big world. You can share in her journey at littlehousebigworld.com

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Lessons from a Year on the Job

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lessons

As I approach my one-year anniversary of being a stay-at-home mom, I acknowledge a shameful feeling:

I thought I’d be better at it than this.

I worked so hard those years I worked full time just to get through the marathon days, when it felt like a lifetime had been raced through each morning by the time I got to the office. I remember thinking if only I had the chance to stay home, I would never take it for granted; I would be fabulous at it. In retrospect, I guess I thought I would bring home my manic and necessary ability to fit things into any available time slot and organize everything down to the last detail.  I would get up before the children every morning, workout, shower, do my makeup and hair, read my Bible and make a real breakfast. I would plan activities, play dates, meals, lessons at home. I would be a rock star.

That first week brought a sense of freedom, gratefulness, and joy that I was home. I grinned at my ability to make pancakes on a Monday. Giggled at the thought of taking my children to the dentist without schedule juggling, missed commitments and apologies. Squealed over the ability to say yes to a friend who wanted to stop by in 20 minutes or to take my children to the zoo on a weekday and stay all afternoon, to just be there.

That summer we relocated and, once the dust settled, I realized how long the days could be and how endless the home management tasks were. How did I manage to do all this AND work before? I thought, eying the piles of laundry, mere months into becoming a stay at home mom. How is it dinner time AGAIN and I feel like I have nothing to show for this day? I’d cry into the phone to an understanding girlfriend. When was the last time I did my hair? I’d ask myself, cringing into the mirror.

When preschool began and I finally started meeting other moms (and becoming their Facebook friends), I perused their photo albums and thought, Why does everyone else seem to be enjoying this more than I am? I slowly added play dates to our schedule, jealously guarding our time after so many years of rushing through days. How does she manage to take her kids so many places and keep her house from falling apart around her?  I’d huff. So many times it took all my energy just to keep everyone fed and entertained, the house somewhat picked up and basic maintenance tasks accomplished. There did not seem to be forward motion, only maintenance.

I thought I’d be grateful for every moment. So grateful that I wouldn’t waste any of my precious time on my phone, half listening to my kids, or lounging in my pajamas on a beautiful, park-worthy day. And it just hasn’t been true.

For the first nine months or so, I made it worse by not giving myself permission to feel the way I felt. I needed to acknowledge that it was hard, thankless, sometimes mind numbing work. I needed to mourn the loss of my career and my work persona whose tailored clothes hang lifelessly in my closet. I needed time—to find my schedule, to find my groove with the kids, to figure out what kind of mother I am in this phase. I needed to learn that we don’t need to rush. I don’t need to be at every play date. I don’t have to have a spotless house. I can forgive myself going out in public in yoga pants, especially if it means I can squeeze a walk in the park into my day.

I needed room to fail, to learn and to grow.

I used to think there was a war between working moms and stay-at-home moms. I remember fielding the occasional hurtful comment when I worked that I know were totally unintentional. Now that I’ve been on both sides I know this: Motherhood is hard. That’s it. It doesn’t matter if you work at home or away from home or whether you get paid for is. It’s not possible to enjoy every single moment; it’s not possible to make the right choice every time; it’s not possible to be perfect.

Since I’ve been home, I’ve been thinking maybe the “war” is just projection of our own insecurities. I can’t be the only one who feels like I’m doing it wrong; I can’t be the only one who sometimes feels deeply inadequate as a mother. Since coming home I have gained enormous respect for mothers from all walks of life. We may disagree on some of the details, but I know we’re all doing what we think is best and working as hard as we can for our children.

Lately I try to turn my guilt on its head. When we have a lazy morning instead of an accomplished one, I think, I would have given anything for a morning like this a year ago. When the monotony of the tasks wears me down, I remember how fast this year has flown and how much my children have grown. When I don’t feel appreciated or visible, I force myself out. I spend time with women who get it, who see me and understand that it can be hard and joyful at the same time.

On a particularly difficult day a month or so ago, I wanted a do-over. I had lost my patience too many times with my fumbling children; I had raised my voice. I longed for bedtime all the while hanging my head in shame for the longing. As my eldest daughter prayed she said, “Thank you, God for my day with Mommy. And thank you that we get to do it again tomorrow.”

Friends, please accept this lesson from my daughter. To the working mom, heavy laden, rushing between versions of yourself, feeling you’re never fully anywhere: You are the perfect mother for your children. To the stay-at-home mom, wondering what happened to the girl she used to be and if she’ll find her again: You are the perfect mother for your children. Even when you mess up. Even when it’s hard. Even when you feel like a failure.  You’re not. You are the mother God intended for those babies.

You can do it; you are doing it, and you are not alone.

Do you struggle with the pull between working and being home? How have you overcome the tension?

Christina Sig

Christina Caro

Christina Caro is a pseudo-Yankee, city-loving mother to two spirited little girls, Mirabella, 5, and Emerie, 3. She juggled a full-time project management job with a writing consulting business, motherhood, and home management until moving from Baltimore to suburban Tennessee in July of 2012 so her husband could pursue a new job and she could come home to the kids. She is learning more about giving and accepting grace now than in any other season yet and writes about it all on her blog.

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The Meaning of Motherhood

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Mother's Day Quote

Being a mother actually has very little to do with birthing a child from your body. That might be the most obvious scenario, but motherhood is so much more than a physical happening. I have known some expert “mothers” who never birthed or raised any children of their own, and I have known some mothers with a brood of children who shouldn’t be allowed to come anywhere near them. I don’t think motherhood can be simply defined by having or not having little people under your care.

A mother is someone who nurtures – someone who cares for the deepest places of your heart. Anyone can throw a meal at you or give you a bed to sleep on, but a mother makes a place for you. A mother sees the deepest, truest you and treats you like you already are that person. A mother cares about your hurts and fears, but also your dreams and successes. She is a cheerleader, a coach, a trainer and a fan all at the same time.

Some of you reading this are feeling ripped off because your biological mother didn’t do any of those things for you. You’re not alone. Our moms could never be all that they should be…and neither can you or I.  It’s too big, this job of being MOM. I mean, we’re still working out our own issues, never mind tackling all the issues our children are dealing with, right?!

Do you know which Person of the Trinity is most like a mother? Take a guess. Probably not the Father. Jesus? Nope. It’s the Holy Spirit. The Bible tells us that the Holy Spirit is the Comforter. He nurtures us and leads us into truth. He tells us who we are in Christ. He speaks destiny and purpose into the core of our beings. He mothers us, for lack of a better term. When God crafted Eve out of the tissues of Adam’s body, He separated other aspects of Himself into her – the things we associate with the female gender, but that actually came from the Personhood of God. Some of those Godly characteristics are nurture and comfort. When we use those attributes, we look like God. People can see we are His.

But back to my issues… How can I ever be a good enough mother for my children when I know I have things that need to be fixed in my own soul?  The only way to do right by your children is to be filled with the Holy Spirit.  On your best day, you don’t have enough wisdom, strength, love, patience, fill-in-the-blank ____________ on your own to adequately nurture your child, but God does. The Holy Spirit in you can meet every need those little munchkins have!

As I write this, my grandmother is dying. I have been thinking a lot about her life and the legacy she is leaving. She has lived through some difficult things in her lifetime – raising four children, a broken marriage, church messes, friend messes, heartaches. But she has carried a mantle of motherhood about her for as long as I have known her. Whether or not she knew how to wear that mantle in her earlier days, I can’t say. But she certainly has learned how to wear it now. She makes each of us feel so special and she cheers us on in anything we are trying to do. She sees the treasure that lies within each person in our family and she helps us to see it, too. She is such a gift to us, and I’m going to miss her terribly.  Terribly.  I want to inherit the mantle from her.

Some of you might not have your own children. But you are still a mother. You have a God-given ability to comfort, nurture and see. You have permission to use those abilities! Some of you have children and you feel completely inadequate, and maybe at the end of your rope. Be filled with the Spirit and let Him lead you in mothering your little ones. Some of you have lost a mother or mother-figure recently and you’re hurting this weekend. God sees you. The Holy Spirit can wrap you up in a blanket of comfort when you cry out for Him. Let Him mother you now.

Motherhood is a sacred mystery. It transcends biological limitations. It is a gift, a calling, an honor.

Happy Mother’s Day to YOU.

What is your definition of “mother”? 

Crista Sig

{Photo Credit}

Crista Ashworth

Crista Ashworth is a thirty-something wife and mom who is passionate about Jesus. She is a newbie homeschooler on top of the other million things she does as a mom. She considers herself a professional laugher, a foodie and a covert operative for the Kingdom. You can also find Crista writing regularly at Destiny in Bloom online magazine and on her personal blog Dishes and Diapers.

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In the Shadows of Overwhelmed

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Overwhelmed

I get to the end of most days knowing I missed out on so much. Overwhelmed by the details of everyday life, it’s so easy to miss the beauty that surrounds. Motherhood is basically a constant state of movement and chaos. We go from meal to meal; from the first little person who wakes our sleepy head to the last one we kiss goodnight.

The other day my babies {age 5 and almost 2} were holding hands in the backseat as we drove to dance class. For a while they simply sat there, quietly grasping their hands together. Then came the giggling. I’m not sure what my daughter was saying to her little brother but he thought it was hilarious. As they laughed together {still holding hands} a song played in the background,

“so picture all the best things in life, that’s what love looks like.” {Dara MacLean}

And time stood still. It truly felt like it stopped. My heart begged to have the moment linger forever but my head knew it wouldn’t be long before someone needed a drink or dropped their lovie.

It got me thinking. I’m tired of missing out. I’m tired of being so shadowed by my overwhelmed state that I race through the day to bedtime. I’m done with failing to savor the moment because I’m looking toward the next one. I am so over the attitude that rises in my spirit when I’m stressed and unsure of where the strength will come to deliver one.more.meal to their hungry bellies. . .to change yet another diaper. . .to wash one more load of laundry.

So how do we come out of the shadows? It’s a daily minute by minute decision to choose love and life over the thanklessness of stress and busyness. We must choose to live in the moment. We must choose to savor life. And we must be committed to doing whatever it takes to pull ourselves out of the dark and into the light of everyday blessings.

Devote yourselves to prayer with an alert mind and a thankful heart. Colossians 4:2

The apostle Paul knew how to encourage the church to rise above their current state to a place of holiness. This verse comes at the end of a letter filled with instructions on how to live a holy life. His admonition is a beautiful summation that compels us to pray, be mindful and full of gratitude.

This, I believe, is the formula for a life lived in the light.

 Have you been living in the shadows? What are some ways you have found to step into the light?

{Photo Credit}

Jessica Wolstenholm

Jessica Wolstenholm is co-founder of Grace for Moms. She is passionate about writing words of grace for moms and moms-to-be. Co-author of The Pregnancy Companion book, she also blogs about TTC, infertility & pregnancy at ThePregnancyCompanion.com

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Because We Know: A Mother’s Day Reflection

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Kids from our homeschool group helping to make a cake.

Kids from our homeschool group making a cake.

In May, a lovely celebration of motherhood is everywhere.  I saw a sign the other day encouraging me to “think about all of the things that make mothers special”, and at first I decided to modestly decline.  As a mother myself, I thought it might be a little odd to mentally list my special qualities. 

As my mind scanned through the previous week of my life, however, I remembered just a few examples of one thing that consistently amazes me about mothers.

My friend – a mom of five – was planning to watch my daughter while I went to a long-scheduled appointment. A sudden tummy ache meant that my son was in the van with me rather than at preschool when I pulled in to drop Maya off.  I had no intention of leaving a sick kid to potentially lose his breakfast all over someone else’s home, but my friend threw a sheet over the couch, set a trash can nearby, and told me to bring him on in. My gratitude overflowed, because raise your hand if you’d want to take a five-year-old boy to your yearly physical.

Mothers know. 

Another friend has walked a long road of medical issues with her sweet boy, and faced it all with such grace. She posted a prayer request on a private Facebook group, because her gut told her that something just wasn’t right after a recent procedure.  With the possibility of a rough night ahead for them, someone felt led to suggest that a few of us take on some time slots and pray the family through the night. It was pulled together quickly, the night covered by a group of moms with a mission.

Mothers know. 

At homeschool group, we pass around babies when hands are full and tissues when someone is overwhelmed with life stuff.  We pull each others’ toddlers out of precarious adventures, and let the most patient of us teach the cake-baking lesson. We descend upon our unsuspecting local Chik-fil-A, and between the four of us moms, manage to get everyone through parking lots, ordering lines, a boisterous meal, and multiple bathroom visits.

Mothers know.

This week, the advertising flyer for nearly every store is pink with tulips and headlines that warn, “Don’t Forget Mom!” It makes me smile to myself, because this is a role that just can’t be adequately summed up with a new set of mixing bowls. As much as I’ll appreciate the store-bought and handmade gifts given to me each May, I am far more grateful for that moment each morning when two bleary-eyed kids wander out to the living room and curl up in the crook of my arm. For the gift of belonging to this worldwide club of women who understand the joys and fears and ferocious love that I’ve known now for eight years.

Our true Mother’s Day gift has been given to us, out of God’s lavish grace. We feed, clothe, and comfort. We sleep far less, and wonder if we’ll ever really have free time again. Our hearts feel levels of joy and pain that we didn’t previously understand. And we wouldn’t have it any other way.

Mothers know.

For from his fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.  John 1:16  (ESV)

Laura Sig

Laura Oyer

Laura Oyer is a Midwest-dwelling wife and mother of two. She blogs about the real and ridiculous things of life and parenthood at InTheBackyard.net, and is the co-author of Spirit-Led Parenting:From Fear to Freedom in Baby’s First Year.

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Surviving As The ‘Older’ Mom

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B&W Fam Pic

{Today’s guest post is from my long time friend, Beth Holmes. Beth is a mom and a writer and well. . .she wears many other hats as a minister’s wife. I am thrilled to have her here at Grace for Moms today.}

I came to the world of motherhood later than some.  Having been married for almost 14 years when Henry was born, we had to start over again learning who we are as a couple, as a family, and for me as a wife and mother.

I don’t fit the profile of a “typical” mom of an almost three-year old boy.  It takes me a few seconds longer than the other moms to get up and down in our Kindermusik class.  My closest friends are not in line with me in the nursery pick-up on Sunday mornings.

But God is teaching me some important lessons through these days, and maybe my experiences can encourage those of you who find yourselves the “older” mom at story time.

1)  The toddler years are only for a season.

I remind myself that these years are a very short season of life, and they will pass quickly.  Little arms will not hang onto my legs forever, and someday I will go to the bathroom by myself.

 2)  If I am intentional, I can continue to pursue things that interest me.

Some days I feel like my brain is turning to mush.  Before Henry was born, I worked in various academic settings.  Then I started watching “Sesame Street,” “Pocoyo,” and Toy Story.  By making small goals for myself, I have learned to finish a book, practice an instrument, or try a new recipe.

3)  Friends who have “been there, done that” are very important to my mental state.

I recently spent an hour and a half of precious nap time talking with a friend whose children are now in school.  Sharing my struggles made me feel so much better.  She assured me that I am normal and this will pass.  I needed someone who could identify with where I am and cheer me on to the other side.

4)  Continuing a romantic relationship with my husband is possible.

Romance is possible, just different.  We have fewer date nights because we not only have to pay for the date, we have to pay for a babysitter.  But that doesn’t keep us from looking for free/inexpensive date ideas, and saving a little for something special.

Being the ‘older’ mother does have its advantages.  I have endured many trials up until the point I became a mom that have opened my eyes to the lessons God can teach us through each season if we remain open to his instruction.

“The precepts of the Lord are right, giving joy to the heart. The commands of the Lord are radiant, giving light to the eyes.” Psalm 19:8

What about you? Whether younger or older, what lesson is God teaching you through these days of motherhood?

Beth Holmes is a wife and mother living in Owensboro, Kentucky.  She thinks life is best served with good books, good music, and good coffee.  You can find her on her blog A Fine Close Weave at bethholmes.wordpress.com

Jessica Wolstenholm

Jessica Wolstenholm is co-founder of Grace for Moms. She is passionate about writing words of grace for moms and moms-to-be. Co-author of The Pregnancy Companion book, she also blogs about TTC, infertility & pregnancy at ThePregnancyCompanion.com

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Since Becoming a Mom, I’ve Lost Myself

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woman-looking-in-mirror

Before I became a mom, I had lots of time to think about what I liked. I had time to dream, to ponder, to decide what I thought about things. I loved to organize and I loved to accomplish things. I often looked at my checked off to-do list with a sense of accomplishment and pride. I was confident that I would someday get to all the projects that didn’t make it to the checklist.

I dreamt of what kind of Mom I was going to be like.  My journey of infertility gave me an ample amount of time to perfect my picture of motherhood. I knew that I was going to be a great mom. I would never lose my temper with my kids. I would never let my kids run around with their shoes on the wrong feet. I would never wear work out clothes all day. I would never be “that” mom. I would spend my days with my kids reading books, doing crafts, and exploring the outdoors. I was going to be super mom.

Then I got pregnant. I embraced the body changes, as it symbolized that my dreams were coming true. Pregnancy was a rite of passage for me. I read every parenting book, trying to be as prepared as possible. I purchased every possible thing that my little one might need in preparation for her arrival. I was prepared and ready to take on this new role.

Then she came early, by cesarean, and was taken to the NICU. This was not my plan. Nothing prepared me for what motherhood really meant. Leaving my baby at the hospital was one of the hardest things I had ever done. How do you walk away from your heart?  My career, my dreams, my desires, suddenly took a backseat. It’s not like I made a decision to put them there. It just naturally happened. I  realized that this little human being was my responsibility. She depended on me for her every need, and it was up to me to determine what she needed. Suddenly, her dreams were way more important than my own.

Now I am a mom of three under the age of 5, and motherhood doesn’t look like I thought it would. My pre-mom self was confident, organized, prepared, and was ready to take on the world. If my pre-mom self walked into my house now, there is no way she would believe this was going to be her house. My pre-mom self and my now mom self seem worlds apart. When I look in the mirror and see how my body has changed, I sometimes don’t even recognize myself. When I get frustrated with my kids and have to put myself in time out, I think “who are you?  I thought you never lost your cool?” I find myself doing things and saying things that I don’t recognize. Have I lost myself? I worry that in the process of being a mom and making so many sacrifices for the sake of my children that somehow I’m losing my self.

My pre-mom self seems so distant, so out-of-touch, and in some ways prideful and selfish. I look at my now mom self and see a woman who has put her kids needs first. I see a woman who never thought she could get angry, but has now learned to ask for forgiveness and put herself in time out. I look in the mirror and see a woman who will never have her pre-mom body back, but is ok with the scars and is doing her best with the residual weight. I see a woman whose house is disorganized because a lot of time is spent playing and just keeping the day to day routine going. I see the many someday projects and begin to ask myself “will I really do that someday, or am I just being idealistic?” I once felt confident that I could handle it all, and now I see a woman who wakes up some mornings and wonders if she can make it through the day. Will I be enough? I also see a woman who is much quicker to ask for help and recognize when she needs it. My now mom self sees more of her faults and knows her limitations.  I once relied heavily on my own abilities, and now more than ever I’m having to trust God.

So the question again, “Am I losing myself?” Yes, I am, but I am finding more of my true self. Yes, I have lost some of my pre-mom self, but to be honest, there are parts of her that needed to be gone. She was pretty wrapped up in her ‘self’ – trying to be perfect, trying to be independent, trying to have it all together. I can’t be perfect, so I’ve stopped trying. I am much more accepting and gracious of myself than I ever have been in my life. It sometimes catches me by surprise. Who is that? I never thought I could be this disorganized. I never thought that I could just walk away from my career and really be ok with it. But I am.

I find myself doing things that my pre-mom self wouldn’t even recognize. I’m sure there will come a day that I look in the mirror and find bits of my pre-mom self back. But I hope that they will have grown and matured, just as I have. I hope that those qualities that my pre-mom self held onto so tightly recognize that they are not my identity, they are just a small part of who I was and who I am.  Motherhood has definitely made me see my identity in a whole new light.  What I see is a woman who depends on Him more than ever before and recognizes her need for grace. It turns out losing myself isn’t such a bad thing after all.

Do you find that you are losing yourself? How do you see it’s for the better?

K-Signature

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Kristy Chowning

Kristy Chowning is a mom of three little miracles. She is co-founder of Grace for Moms, a homemaker, and a 'retired' nurse practitioner.

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The Importance of Being Here

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behere

Like it or not, motherhood requires multitasking. Whether you work outside your home, inside it or solely for it, multitasking is just part of the job.  It is so unusual for us to have only one thing to do that, on the rare occasion that little is required of us, we don’t know what to do with our hands. It’s the nature of this season and, though I complain about it, I am well suited for it.

It is a challenge for me to be still, to focus only on the thing in front of me and truly be here. About raising children I’ve often heard it said, “the days are long but the years are short.” It’s a time where many of us have essentially pushed ourselves and some of our goals aside for the sake of the greater good of our families.  So our minds are often two steps or six months ahead, to the next job, the next baby, the next phase, the next house, the next season. For this reason, I can distill my heart’s cry, my guiding phrase, my life’s goal to these three words:

Be here now.

A quirky college professor proclaimed the merits of this outlook on life when I was 17, and somehow my younger self actually latched onto it.  I didn’t know then it would be one of the only pieces of advice I would reflect on almost daily through so many phases of life.

It reminded me to embrace my carefree years, before career and love and children.

In happiness and sorrow, it calls me to be in the moment. It helped me slow my wedding day down. It reminded me that my pregnancies with my two daughters were filled with wonder and so much more than inconveniences.

In darkness it has reminded me to be present in the stillness when all I wanted was answers; it has called me to settle into the emptiness, into the pain of lost jobs and multiple miscarriages and the fear of the unknown. Listen, it whispers. Let the disappointment in, learn from it.

As I’ve grown older, and my life more crowded, this phrase reminds me to use my precious time wisely. That sometimes means reading a stack of library books on the couch is more important than keeping up with the laundry, that going out for milkshakes in our pajamas is more valuable than honoring bed time, that being here through the often monotonous every day of my children’s waning childhoods is more pressing than the career I had and wanted but have chosen to put aside for now.

This precious phrase reminds me of the importance of making time to date my husband, taking lengthy phone calls from lifelong friends, of sitting down, slowing down, and looking people in the eye.  It constantly reminds me to put my phone down, to be present for the person in front of me, making sure she knows she is more important than all the other things I could be focused on. It reminds me that I don’t have to fill all of our days, don’t have to always say yes and probably shouldn’t, and that I don’t have to feel bad about any of it.

Sometimes being here now is solemn. At times, for me, it has meant not focusing on what might be one day, when things are brighter. It has sometimes meant settling into the dim light, the silence, the sadness, the loss. Holding off on offering possible redemption stories ahead of their time.

Sometimes it means carrying the heavy burden of the sorrow of those suffering around us because we don’t know what else to do.  It means letting all of it take as long as it takes, and feeling every emotion along the way. Necessarily, mercilessly, life still goes on around us. In our families, in our homes.

Being here now doesn’t mean getting stuck, and it doesn’t negate our faith. On hard days it has meant mothering with my hands when my heart wasn’t in it. It means showing up for our loved ones the best we can, even as we allow our souls to ache, to heal. And in time, it means allowing our hearts to feel happiness, to be light.

I think being here now, being fully present—all the time—may be the lesson of my life.  The hardest one, the one I’ll never really master. I think of it every day. I never would have believed something so simple would take so much consistent effort. But I don’t think there’s another way. We can’t wish away the pain, the uncertainty, the doubt or the fear without missing out on the joy.  And there’s too much of the former for us to miss even one second of the joy.

Do you struggle with being present? Do the countless things that beg for your attention keep you from being “here”? What ways have you found to overcome this tendency to “be here now”?

Christina Sig

Christina Caro

Christina Caro is a pseudo-Yankee, city-loving mother to two spirited little girls, Mirabella, 5, and Emerie, 3. She juggled a full-time project management job with a writing consulting business, motherhood, and home management until moving from Baltimore to suburban Tennessee in July of 2012 so her husband could pursue a new job and she could come home to the kids. She is learning more about giving and accepting grace now than in any other season yet and writes about it all on her blog.

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