Oct. 4th, 2017

I sat today at the kitchen table, stitching up littlest one’s stuffed rabbit (3 ft long, green rabbit he mostly uses for a pillow)…confession: the thought crossed my mind…”is this what my life’s come to? Is this all I get to do in life, for the Lord, for humankind?” And then, I was immediately shamed at the idea that that thought crossed my mind. That I asked that question. “I’m so sorry, Jesus. I KNOW this is important. Serving my children, stitching up the things that mean something to them so they can live and love and feel secure and not have puffy stuffing all over their bed every night. And I know he won’t even notice, unless I point it out to him. He won’t even know I pricked my finger and bled and…cried (shamefully!)…he won’t even say thank you or notice that I took the time out for HIM and felt all this junk over this!”
He (Jesus) was so quick to send a softening to my heart and an undescribable grace to my spirit-that clench in my chest was immediatley gone as He expressed revelation and an acknowledgmeent of what I was doing as being so beautiful to Him and one of the most precious things I would do that day to serve Him, to show Him love, to serve my family, to be a help meet to my husband so he could do what he needed to do, to obey and lower myself below what I thought I was capable of, to rest and KNOW that I am important and loved and valued and cherished and SEEN in the small thing of stitching up my son’s stuffed animal, even though I could be capable of so much more…that’s what He asked me to do today and it needed to be and WAS enough and it was important and amazing to Him. Oh, my heart.

Stay at home moms…you are like gems to Jesus. I firmly believe He sees us more than He sees the most famous pastor who’s saved 1000 people and been to 100 countries. I know He loves us all equally, but He SEES us, He knows what it’s like to day in and day out serve and expect or get nothing (sometimes it feels that way) in return. Our reward is not in the “thank you’s” from our kids because believe me, as they get in to their teen years, especially if you have boys, you won’t hear much of those. Our reward isn’t in our husbands coming home saying, “Oh my gosh, babe, the house looks beautiful and the kids are all so well taken care of and fed, and clean, and happy, and taught about Jesus, and soccer pros, and all their clothes are so clean and the yard looks amazing after you worked so hard to plant and water those flowers all summer, and your body is aaa—maaaa-zzing and I just want to touch you and make love to you and never even look at anyone else because of all the working out you do every day to make sure you look great for me, and your hair is gorgeous after coloring it to hide the grays every TWO WEEKS, and you are so beautiful on the inside too and humble because of all the time you’ve spent in between everything else you did today to seek the Lord and find Him and become more like Him by giving up the last thing you could think of of SELF to be totally and completely given over to Him!!!!!!!!!”

That’s just not what happens.  But, working moms, I’ve been there too.  I’m not leaving you out. Oh, no.  Work all day, fix everything for your kids to have a great day, for your husband to feel ready for that crap job (or not so crap job), and still get up, beautify yourself (as my dad used to say), and go change the world, then come home and love on and give to your husband…oh, babe, I feel you.  I do.  At least, if you’re trying to love others well.  If you’re catering completely to yourself, I can’t relate.  But, come on, if you have kids and you love those snotters, you’re giving of yourself, whether you like to think so or not.  So, relatable, right?

What I’m saying is this, it’s not actually about how much you did today to influence and affect the greater population, or how many people you actually influenced slightly, or gave some great quote to.  It’s about what you did to LOVE the people He’s put in your sphere of influence.  If you ONLY touch those kids that He (because even those of you who don’t believe God exists–you’d admit, you’re not worthy of that amazing kid, amiright?!  I know I’m not worthy of any of mine, so if you say you are, you’re just proud and that’s not really attractive) allowed to be under your care, what are you doing with those few?  Are you giving them the best shot at life?  Are you giving them everything you’ve got?  Are you giving them every ounce of love and life you have to be a good steward of that life that’s been entrusted to you?  I’m thinking if you really know and believe that eternity is real you are.  I try with all of my being to remember that.  Every day.  Gosh, I suck so many days.  But I want to try.  Every day.  Start over.  Give it your all.  Give Him your all.  Give those you have influence over your all.  You won’t regret it.  You’ll be tired, I’m not gonna lie.  But you won’t regret it.

Amen.

Oh. Dear. God.  He. Moved. Out.

Why didn’t anyone tell me it was going to be this hard?! And good?! All at the same time! Sheesh. I feel like an angry bird, but not angry…just a flying object projecting here and there, bouncing off of whatever unfortunate thing or person happens to be in my path… exploding every 5 seconds-once for joy, once for anxiety, for a victory dance, then for anxiety, then for being so thankful I can’t stand it, then for sadness, then for the revelation of God’s abundant mercy, then for my lack of being like Jesus and the reality of my desperate need for His help.

It’s just the first day…I already had to go grocery shopping though. He likes kefir and hummus and lots of fruit and veggies, meat, and anything healthy. My other boys, not so much. I shop for my kids and my husband. I love spinach and supreme pizza. They don’t, so I don’t buy spinach and supreme pizza. I buy what they like (and of course, try to throw in some healthy stuff too). No one else likes hummus but me now. Put it back. He’s not here to eat it, guys. He’s not here to eat it. He’s been here to eat it for 18 years and now he’s not…wha?!!

Crackers, Garden Salsa Sunchips, hard salami, carbs, corn, pizza, fried chicken, hamburgers, green beans…bought that stuff today (and of course, tried to throw in some healthy stuff). I’ve been shopping for all 3 of my kids for a long time. This is weird. I didn’t think about this part. You, think about it before it gets here for you so it doesn’t knock you down. Although, reality is it will probably still knock you down.

And on the topic of moving out a first born son whom you’ve always been super close to-he’s been a mama’s boy, and we’ve been through some pretty hell-asious (I don’t think that’s a word, but it is on here) crap together…I cried for 3 days straight. 2 days before he actually moved out, it started. I wanted to write him a letter. There were some things I really wanted him to have in writing, to look back on when he needed some courage, some persepective, some truth. Like, how much he and his dad love him and how we’d never stop, NO. MATTER. WHAT. SERIOUSLY. And how His Heavenly Father told me He loved Kolton even more than I did (that’s another story for another day) so not to worry about Him ever leaving him, and to run to Him, no matter what, and to never forget to be the leader he was created to be just because following is easier, and to remember that God gives you the grace you need to get through whatever He allows in your life…HE JUST DOESN’T GIVE THE GRACE FOR IT TILL IT’S ACTUALLY TIME TO DO IT, so don’t freak out.  I sobbed through the entire letter. I had to go hide in the closet to finish it because I was bawling so much and so ugly. I printed pictures off so he could hang them in his room. I wanted him to see our faces, not forget us. Like he was going to the jungles of Africa or something and we wouldn’t be able to see him for a year…. 😉

Then, the day before he moves out, we went to the store to get the rest of his stuff he needed. I was fine there. Until then, hadn’t cried a lick in front of him or any of the kids, only my hubs, poor guy. We got home and he started piling everything in the living room, like he was moving out or something… He put stickers on his mini fridge (for his dorm, where he’d be living), he packed 9 pairs of shoes (a boy after my own heart!), he put them in his big container by the door. Dylan, my 2nd born, only a year away from this madness himself,  said something like, “Is it getting real now, mom?”  I lost it. I broke down right there in front of them all. Kolton came and hugged me…said “its gonna be alright,” said “don’t cry, mama,” and twirled my hair as I buried my face in my hands and his chest. I told him I knew that, I was just gonna miss him SO much.

After that, it was all over, every few minutes, I’d break down. They went to see their Nanny for awhile and Daryl and Mas went to work out. I stayed home and cried awhile, then went to watch them play volleyball because I didn’t know what to do with myself and wanted to be with them all as much as I possibly could.  Have you ever felt like that?  It doesn’t matter if you have a million things to do, if you don’t really care to go watch a bunch of dudes hit the ball and smack talk, you go.  You can see them, you can talk to them, you are a part of what they’re doing and they like you being there….oh, gosh, glory, hallelujah!  Had done all the laundry I could do, folded, ironed, all the laundry to help him get ready, put everything away, was worn out, but wanted to just be around them all as much as I could, so I went.

Then the day of moving out came….started off ok…I thought “ok, I’m gonna make it through this”…nope, tears, the second I woke up. Seriously, the second I woke up!  Besides not sleeping but about 2 hrs, because I was praying for him, for Dylan, for Mason, for us to walk through this with grace and wisdom and for God’s help.  Oh, God’s help…PLEASE.

Moral of the story, I have never liked crying in front of people. It’s like it was too hard to feel so much or so deeply that I would cry or let others see me break down like that, so I have avoided so many things (since after the divorce-another story, another time!) so I wouldn’t have to FEEL them, and then cry, in front of people because they might all think I was an alien straight from outer space.

I didn’t go when everyone else did, to say goodbye to my grandpa when they knew he didn’t have long left on earth, to see him one last time while he was alive-to hug him, to whisper “I love you” to him, whether he could hear me or not…I have regretted it so badly ever since. If that was me, with not much time, I would want every person I EVER loved to come and show me they loved me, to feel them next to me, to smile at the thought of me being an influence in their life enough that they had love in their heart for ME, to know I meant enough to them that they would take 10 min out of their crazy schedules and say “goodbye, I love you” to me.  I’m so sorry, GG (my grandpa-1 of the coolest men to have ever walked the earth). I was a coward, and didn’t have enough courage to come and say goodbye because I was afraid of feeling so sad about him not being with us anymore and worried I woulnd’t know what to say or how to keep myself from crying so hard people would think I was nuts, that I didn’t even go. Forgive me, Lord.  I wish I could say “I’m sorry” to GG.

So, since then, instead of avoiding hard things, avoiding looking like an overly emotional girl who cries just because someone else is, I don’t care….I want to FEEL, to BE, to CRY, to HUG, to LOVE, to HURT, to MOURN, to LAUGH, to whatever emotion it is to the FULLEST, NO MATTER WHAT. I cried all day when he moved out. I creid in the shower. I cried when we went to lunch as a family with Eema and she gave him an “Amazing Grace” music box to remember where he came from and remember me singing it to him when he was little before bedtime. I cried when SHE said goodbye to him, I cried when his Nanny texted me to see how I was doing, I cried when I curled my hair, I cried when we pulled up to the dorm, I cried when I said goodbye. I cried HARD. I cried when my bff gave me tissues and cookies, I cried when I COULD eat a cookie AND cry ’cause she said you couldn’t, I cried when mom texted me later to see how I was, I cried when she said SHE cried, and I cried when he ran home at 10pm to grab his basketball shoes and rugby cleats, and hugged me hard.

And guess what….Kolton LOVED me for it, my other boys said, “it’s going to be ok, mom,” and loved me for it, my husband held me and petted my hair 😉 and loved me for it, my mom hugged me and cried with me for it.  No one laughed (well, they did a little, just cause I look funny when I cry).  No one thought I was from outer space, and no one thought it was ridiculous…and I was there. I was there through the whole thing. I even had to hug him and tell him goodbye in the middle of the cafeteria in front of all the people, and cried awkwardly. And I wouldn’t change it for anything. I was there. And now, I’m here. I’m here for Dylan. I’m here for Mason. I’m here for my hubs. And they’re all still here for me.

And it’s not because I’m so awesome, so humble, so wise…I’m none of those things. It’s because out of all the feelings I’ve felt over my lifetime, I never want to feel the awful, putrid, sting of regret again. It’s that bad.  I want to feel love.  And to BE LOVE and for others to feel LOVE from me.

Amen.