A welcomed interruption

As a mom my life is pretty much interrupted at any point in the day.  I've become pretty accustomed to the fact that one simple task can, and will, take me 5 times longer...unless the kids are sleeping.

Tonight I sat down to blog about something a little lighter than what I have been blogging about. I thought maybe my first two posts were two "heavy" and that maybe I shouldn't be such a Debbie Downer. ;)   With a quiet house I sat at my computer and opened up Pandora. I clicked on Matt Redman and was bought to tears by the first song that came up.   The song "Never Once" came on. Hence my welcomed interruption.  

At the time of my mom's death this was one of her favorite songs. Take a moment to click here and listen to it: "Never Once"

She sang with such love to God.  You could see it on her face.  A woman who believed every word of this song.  A woman who had been through the storms time and time again in her life. She experienced the death countless times in her life. She knew what loss felt like. She knew what it felt like to be lied to, to be left out, to be pushed to the side, to be lonely, to feel like she wasn't meeting the mark.  To think of her singing this song with all her might amazes me. Even with all of those trials she went through her legacy was what she did for others.  Her mission in life was to serve.

As I sat there crying from this realization the next song came on.  "Give Me Your Eyes". Feel free to watch this one as well if you are still with me.  The most important parts of the lyrics are:

Give me your eyes for just one second
Give me your eyes so I can see
Everything that I keep missing
Give me your love for humanity
Give me your arms for the broken hearted
Ones that are far beyond my reach.
Give me your heart for the ones forgotten
Give me your eyes so I can see

Is that the answer? By keeping our eyes on what other peoples needs are does that help us to get through our own storms? There are people all around us going through such grief and trials but do we see it? Do we give a second thought to it?

My pastor gave a great analogy this past Sunday. He held one hand in front of his face representing our problems. The other hand held a Bible. With the hand full of problems in front of his face he was unable to see anything else, including the hand that held the Bible.  Do we focus too much on our problems instead looking to see who else is hurting around us?

There are times where we grieve. Where we cut ourselves off from the outside world to turn inward. To heal.  Times where we need to examine issues and problems in our own lives.  Those can be times of great growth, healing and change in our lives. But when we aren't going through those times in our lives are we making sure we are reaching out to those that are?

Sorry you missed out on the lighthearted blog that I had planned. But this was a welcomed interruption This series of events tonight that God led me to realize that no matter what storms I go through that first of all, I never walked alone and secondly, there is also a world of hurting people that need to be taken care of just like we do when we are going through our storms.

What would happened if we welcomed interruptions more in our lives? If we stopped focusing on our task at hand and looked for ways to be interrupted by acts of kindness and support for those going through the storms right now?

He gives and takes away

That phrase seems to be the anthem for my life this year.  I've never experienced grief in my own life and in the lives of others around me more than in this past year.

It started with the death of my 23 year old cousin in February.  That was the beginning of a glimpse into what grief really is.  To hug my Uncle while looking over his shoulder to see pictures of the little boy I remember playing with and taking care of. To see the hurt on my Aunt's face at losing her first born. To watch my cousins, his siblings, struggle with trying to make sense of it all. That is when death started to become very real to me.

A mere 3 months later I experienced the death of my very precious mother.  That hurt was and still is indescribable. Some days, like today,  I feel like I just got punched in the stomach when I think of it. Other days I'm filled with a peace at knowing she's a lot happier now than she ever was here.  But I miss her all of the time.

Last night I got the news that a woman at my MOP's table just lost her precious baby.  She was due to give birth in 4 days.  My heart is breaking for her today.  To think of her having to deliver her baby last night. To be almost there...just days away.  To kiss that baby goodbye. To go through this Christmas season without the precious baby she had planned to be holding.

It's a feeling of helplessness. I can't help bring any of these people back into this world.  I can't take away the pain of any of these situations. I can't even make sense of them. I struggle with trying to find the right things to say and do for those who are grieving.  It's the most powerless feeling.

All I can do is pray.  It is situations like this that smack me back into reality sometimes to realize that there is so much more going on in this world then my little life.  Prayer doesn't come easily to me most times but at times like this it's as if my soul prays without me even knowing.  It just comes up from the deepest part of me.  I wonder if that is were grief hides?  In that deepest part of our soul. The most sensitive part since it is touched so rarely.

My only comfort is knowing in my heart of hearts that one day this grief won't have a place in our souls. That one day we can hug those we miss the most.  We can bury our face in their necks and the "why" won't matter so much.    

You give and take away
You give and take away
My heart will choose to say
Blessed be Your name.

"Can you take me to the grocery store so I can get a new mom?"

That was the request of my 3 yr old head strong daughter tonight.  I asked her if she would miss me if she had a new mom and she said "maybe after a few weeks".   Ahh, the joys of being a mother.  This is after a day filled with a lot of yelling. All on my part this time.  She pooped in her pants for the 1,000th time in the last year. And I did not handle it with grace what so ever. My 5 yr old son pretended not to hear me or just out right didn't do something I asked him to for the 1,000th time today as well. And I snapped. I yelled at her for making me clean her poop off her butt. I yelled at him for never listening to me. I yelled at them for being the disobedient, ungrateful, stubborn children.  What mirror images of me they are. 

Today was not my proudest day of mothering. Most days I have a lot more patience.  Most days I can discipline with a level head and I don't take ownership for their mistakes. But I failed in that today.  I'm thankful that God has grace for me. I just wish I had more of it for myself.

I'm reminded of the times my mom would snap like I just did. The times she would walk into my room after I was tucked in bed.  She'd be carrying a basket full of folded laundry to put away in my dresser. She'd open the dresser and be met by a random mix of clothes everywhere. Inevitably there would be nights she would flip the light switch on in a fury and scoop all of those clothes out of the dresser and onto the floor in one big pile. I'd have to get out of bed, half asleep at times, and fold them and put them all back in the drawers nicely.  It kills me now to think of the grief I gave her at times. The simple things like folding my clothes that could have helped her to not lose it at the end of the day. A day filled with working a full time job, homework with 7 kids, cooking for a family of 9, cleaning, prepping for the next day's work etc...  But I think back to who I was at that age. And I wasn't intentionally trying to hurt her. I wasn't intentionally out to be the last straw.  I was just a kid. A kid too lazy to fold her clothes. I loved her deeply but I took her for granted. 

The bottom line is that my kids will remember me yelling but they'll also remember me being patient and loving. Just like I remember both about my childhood.  Me losing it will cause them to think about how they treat me for the next few days. But then life will creep back in and that lesson will be forgotten about. It's the same way with my relationship with God. Things draw me into Him, for a few days, and then I'm off again on my own making a mess of my clothes (life).  It's my own laziness that defeats me again. 

Hence I continue on this journey I've started the last few weeks. I'm trying to learn what grace is. To have grace myself and in turn to have it with others. I'm a perfectionist. And that is driving me crazy. My brain is constantly thinking of ways I can be doing things better. Being a better mom, a better wife, healthier, skinnier, better listener, better organizer etc...

 I need to learn to love myself for who God made me. Then in turn, I can learn to give grace to those around me.

To the 3 yr old who refuses to poop in the toilet. Grace.

To the 5 yr old who likes to test his boundaries. Grace.

To the 35 yr old who is constantly failing.  Grace.