Ol' Sweet Day

 Seventeen years ago today, I became a wife. The day was absolutely fantastic, and I carry so many wonderful memories with me still. Although our marriage ended a few years ago, I still recognize and "celebrate" the day each year, because it's an integral part of my life story, and I am grateful that it happened. 

When I was married, my youngest sister was seven years-old. My former husband and I were fortunate enough to have each of our immediate siblings in the wedding ceremony, but she was the youngest bridesmaid. She was not even up to my chest in height. It was one of my dreams come true to have my siblings with me on one of the most important days of my life. 

Today, seventeen years later, wearing my grandma's wedding dress, my youngest sister became a wife.

Before she and her fiance were ever engaged, she had asked me if I would officiate her wedding someday, if her path lead her to be married. I was completely shocked, but absolutely honored, and said yes, I would be willing to have that role.  Months later, her wonderful boyfriend, now husband, proposed to her, and she asked me again, to make sure I was still willing. I was overjoyed for her, and again, said I absolutely would do that. 

The day she introduced him to myself and my children, and I saw how well they immediately got along, and how he seemed to already love my kids, who are also a big part of my sister's life as they somewhat "grew up together" (she became an aunt when she was 11), and how at ease he was with us, I fell in love with him as a man for her. As we watched their relationship continue to grow, I prayed for them, believing he would be the one she would someday marry.

Granted, I am not one who likes public speaking, but there was no reserve whatsoever in my heart. She recently told me that she knew I would be the perfect person to write her wedding ceremony and officiate their marriage. I won't lie, it made me emotional and I laid there with tears, blown away by how strongly she felt that way about me. 

Being a divorced, single momma, married just shy of ten years... I will not lie and say I had not had a few moments where I questioned whether or not I was the right person for the job. My marriage did not last. How could I possibly be a good fit for helping someone begin a new one? It took being told that I was not bad at marriage to help me reframe my view. When I thought about it with a fresh perspective, I started to see where my little sister was possibly coming from when she thought of me as the perfect fit for her wedding. I was not bad at marriage, even though it failed. And, honestly, because it failed, I have a perspective I did not have prior, as to some integral parts of what helps a marriage be strong. I laid in bed last night, unsure of myself in this role, but woke up this morning filled with joyous anticipation of the wedding to come. 

The wedding was wonderful. I was slightly nervous speaking in front of the dear family and friends who were able to attend, but as soon as I saw my brother-in-law begin escorting his mother in, my nerves were met with pure happiness. I could not stop smiling. It was a privilege to officiate alongside his grandpa, who helped with a few components of the ceremony, making it truly a special fit for both the bride and groom. When the rings were exchanged and I said they could give a great big high five (yes, that really happened, but they got to kiss after it), I had a rush of pure exhilaration, and I proclaimed them Mr. & Mrs. It was such a beautiful evening. 

My dad held on to my sister's bridesmaid dress from my wedding all those years ago. As I look at this photo of her today, holding the dress from my wedding, wearing my grandmother's dress for her own wedding, I have so many emotions. I feel slight sadness that the years go by so quickly, because even though I was 16 when she was born, I loved spending time with her (and our other sister who is a few years older than the bride) growing up. I had them visit me so many times and created some magnificent memories. I find myself in awe of the fact that not only is she my sister but one of my best friends, and that I have had the chance of seeing her as a newborn and grow into a wonderful young woman. I've been blessed by our relationship in so many unexplainable ways. There's something indescribably beautiful about having your baby sister grow into an adult best friend. To top all that off with being involved in each other's weddings, and those weddings being on the same date, and I feel overwhelmingly blessed by the gifts God has given us in this journey. 

I am so grateful that we have been key figures in each other's life stories, and our love is so deep that we can't imagine our most important days without the other. 

I wish nothing but the absolute best, and am praying a lifetime of blessings for the new husband and wife. 

It still feels surreal to say that. 

A Mother's Message

Part of my Mother's Day gift this year came a week ago.  I kept it to myself for six days,  and now it's time to share.

It was a message.

Last Sunday, I was in church, as I am almost every Sunday morning.  Worship is my favorite part of the week, but last week, I was struggling to be in the right space with my heart and my mind open and free.  I didn't realize it on my own until a gentle hand from beside me came, followed by loving guidance and prayer, commanding the enemy to flee.

And just like that, the tears began, as they often do, as I suddenly found myself in worship, really in worship.

And seconds later, I realized what was hindering me.  You see, the week before was tough in momma-land.  I struggled through it almost every day, having been sick for multiple days with a nasty stomach bug, the kids and I both feeling the strain of it mentally and emotionally.  Each day was fraught, on some level, with challenges between my children and I, my children and each other, or myself and myself.  And I had, on multiple occasions, doubted myself as a mother.  More than once, I was wondering if I was a good mother at all, if I was really able to do it all as the only parent involved in my childrens' lives right now.

Much of the time, I believe I'm a good mom, because I know that I've got God with me in it all.  I always know God is with me, even if I don't feel him, but I'm not impervious to the self-doubt that seems to plague most all mothers at some point.

But, in that moment, I was given a message.

"You wonder if you're a good mom, and you fear you are a bad mom.  You fear you are not cut out for the job.  But, you KNOW and you BELIEVE that I made you perfect in MY image.  You know that I called you to be mother of those children.  So, if you believe that you ARE perfect because I SAY you are perfect, then you must KNOW and BELIEVE that you ARE THE PERFECT MOTHER for your children.    You are perfect."

Oh goodness, did I cry.

There was the answer to my doubt and my struggle.

Am I always a great mom?

Of course not.  I struggle. I make mistakes.  But, I try to learn from them, and I try my best (almost always) to be a good mom.  I've prayed countless times, asking God if my purpose really is to "just" be a God-loving mother to my three children, raising them in the Spirit, and He seems to tell me that it is my job now, in this season, to focus on them.

So, I know that I'm called for them.  But, I've doubted anyway.  I'm human, after all.

But here I was, weeping, as I felt the Father telling me, so clearly, that I'm not good.. I am PERFECT.

Up until tonight, I hadn't shared this word with anyone.  I've been keeping it in my secret arsenal as I began the week leaving church, thrown into battles and fires as a momma always is.  But this week, it was different.  I didn't doubt myself. I didn't doubt my parenting.  I saw each battle as a lesson in growth, grace, mercy, persistence, and patience.  Yes, I am sure I was imperfect in parenting.  But, I AM the perfect parent for my children.

Tonight, in silent meditation on a two hour drive home, with the children sleeping in the back seats, I felt the pull to share my personal message.

Tomorrow is Mother's Day.

And I realized, this message isn't for me alone.

No.

This message is for all women out there in mothering roles- biological mothers, adoptive mothers, foster mothers, aunts, grandparents, sisters, close friends, mentors, teachers... and anyone else I may be unintentionally forgetting.

YOU are PERFECT.  God made every single one of us, whether you accept Him yet or not.  And knowing He made you, the Bible says that we are each fearfully and wonderfully made (Psalm 139:14), and we were made perfect in God's image (Genesis 1:27- because God is perfect).

Each child you are given is a blessing from God, and if you accept your calling to be in the lives of child (young or grown, really), then you need to know that you are the perfect one for them.

Yes, you're going to make mistakes.  You're going to be imperfect as a person, but you ARE perfect for the job.

In being imperfect and simultaneously perfect, it is your duty to embrace the imperfection, to learn from it, grow because of it, and share it.  Because we are made stronger and we are formed more beautifully when we do.  And, it's a blessing to others when we do.

Each of us is going to struggle.  It's a given.  But, knowing you're made wonderfully and specifically for the purpose of being a mother of any kind to any child in your life, you can carry on when you do fall short.

But, you have to be willing to accept God in it all, to live up to your true perfection's potential.

With God, you are renewed each day (Isaiah 40:31, Lamentations 3:22-23).

With God, all things are possible (Matthew 19:26).

With God, you can do hard things... like what I believe to be one of the hardest things of all- being a good mother. With God, you can keep on when you feel like giving up.  You just have to ask Him to guide you, lead you.  You have to abandon your need to have everything in control, and let Him be the one to help you.  And it's easier said than done.

I have to do it, personally, every single day, and often more than once.

I believe in you, Mommas of all kinds.  God believes in you, too.  It's why He placed children of all kinds in your life.

----

I apologize if this read was a little difficult to understand or decipher as I am quite exhausted and about to fall asleep. I just couldn't go to bed without getting it out there.  I hope it makes at least a little bit of sense.

(This entire message also very much applies to every kind of father figure out there, too.)

Because, Spencer, you're almost not five...

Dearest Spencer,

This morning, you proclaimed to me, "Mom, I'm almost not five!" We have been talking about your upcoming birthday for quite a few days now, and the excitement of it's impending arrival is definitely stirring excitement in your little-huge heart.  

It's true, buddy, you're almost not five.  In fact, within a few short hours, the clock will strike midnight, and it will be the first of November, and you will turn six.  Now granted, you weren't born until the evening, so you won't officially be six til after 7:30pm, but I will keep that secret to myself for now and enjoy a few more hours knowing that you're "still five."  My momma heart isn't ready for a six-year-old just yet.

Spenk-a-Doodle, you are growing way too quickly.  Within the past few months especially, you've transformed so much from a slightly anxious preschooler, to a confident kindergartner.  You've shown me that you are now incredibly brave, gentle, strong, intelligent, and surprising.  You're so full of wonder and intrigue.  It may drive me to the brink of wanting to put in ear plugs and pretend I can't hear the seven bazillionth question you've asked on the way to school (which, by the way, is about a 7 minute drive, sir) some days, but truly, I appreciate your intense desire to learn.  "I like to know stuff," you told me recently when I asked why you fire off questions so quickly.  It's true, you do.

Spencer, I am incredibly impressed with your compassionate heart, and your desire to know Jesus, God, and the Holy Spirit.  You talk of all three of them frequently, and questions about them and the Bible are among the never-ending questions you ask.    Your questions are so deep sometimes that I am unsure how to answer, and while I feel timid attempting, I am so impressed and so proud of you for where you are in your faith. You may be pint-sized in the eyes of some, but you are growing ginormous faith.  I pray that others will see this and be inspired by you, especially your siblings.

You love nature and athletics, art and music.  I am continually impressed by your many skills.  Some of your recently acquired ones are tree climbing, reading some words, writing and painting words, hockey, skee ball, climbing walls, and identification of many musical instruments.  

Your brother and sister adore you and look up to you very much.  I hope that you know this, and remember this, even when they're pestering you, in your personal space, and driving you crazy.  They miss seeing you around as much as they did, now that you are in school, and sometimes they don't know how to really handle those feelings.  But, they love you. They talk about you when you're not around, and miss you, asking where you are and when we will get you back.  

Spencer, I want to thank you for all that you've taught me in our almost not five years together.  It's crazy to think that we've been on this team together that long.  Six years sounds like such a long time, even though in the grand scheme of things, it's minuscule. You've taught me so much about patience, unconditional love, parenting, faith, wonder, and whimsy.  You make me laugh until I cry sometimes (although the interrupting cow knock-knock joke has really worn out it's novelty, no offense).  Sometimes, I just look at you and cry tears of overwhelming joy and gratitude.

You're the one who made me mommy first.  We've had so many firsts together in these past five years, and I know we have countless more ahead of us.   I'm so grateful that they will be with you, my brave, caring, funny, ornery, blue-eyed miracle.  

Thank your for still being willing to cuddle, to hug me, to kiss me, even in public and in front of your friends, and for telling me that you love me countless times a day.  Thank you for inviting me to play, telling me your stories and dreams, and challenging me (even when I can't stand it sometimes).

I'm sorry there are days your heart still hurts and aches incredibly as you miss your dad.  I know you're still looking for him, and I know that you're still sad he's missing out on your growing up, and things like your birthday.  I love that you still pray for him.  I'm sorry he's missing your birthday again this year.  But, I am so thankful that there are so many others out there who love you, who tell you how much they love you, and show you how much they love you.  From family, to friends, to Sunday School teachers and neighbors- you are one adored little boy.  It doesn't make it better, but I pray it fills your heart to overflowing.

I've said it before and I will say it again- You're the best thing that ever happened to me (and yes, I say it to your siblings too). 

 Happy Birthday, Spencer Jacob.  I pray immeasurable joy, love, and blessings upon you.  

I love you.

MOM 

To Ollie Bear for his 4th birthday

Dear Ollie Bear, 

Tonight, as I chase you back into your room for the third time, you are a bubbling ball of three-year-old energy.

In the morning, you'll be a groggy, pint-sized four-year-old.

I know I say it all too often, but I can hardly believe it is happening.  How did I blink so many times that another year has gone by?  It hurts my heart to see the days passing so quickly, knowing that I haven't savored enough moments to last my lifetime, and taking those that have gone by for granted more often than I dare to admit.

I am sorry, Ollie Bear, for letting time pass us by so quickly.   I wish I could pause it and we could stay here just a little longer.

Dear boy, you are such a complex combination of gentle spirit, fire-cracker temper, detail oriented dirt magnet of a lad.  You are intense, but soft.  You are quiet, and so boisterous.  You are calm, and you are ferocious.  You have so many facets, and I know we haven't discovered most of them yet.

You have a vivid imagination that never ceases to surprise and amuse me.  Just the other night, you told me that your shirt transformed into a new shirt, when I asked what happened to the clothes you were wearing.  I laughed so hard.

You know so many things, and you try so hard to understand what you don't know.  I love the intrigue in your spirit and the thirst in your mind.

I love your laughter, and I hope that I will never forget what it sounded like in these early years.  I can hear it so clearly in my mind now that it causes tears to trickle, because it causes my heart to swell with so much joy.

Another thing I really love about you, is that even when you're mad at someone, me included, you almost always will big bear hugs, and you don't stay mad when you are squeezed super tight. I hope you never lose that.

You're at that awkward stage where you're "little-big," wanting so badly to be a big boy, but still so very small.  I pray you'll stay small a little longer in some ways, like how you're usually up for a cuddle, no matter when or where, but progress to big in others (I wouldn't mind you being out of diapers every moment of the day, but I promise I will try to change them at night without frustration knowing full-well someday I'll miss that side of little, too).

Buddy, I promise that I will continue to work on my patience and grace, and trying to spend time with just you, even if it's in minute fragments here and there.  I never want you to feel forgotten or overlooked "in the middle" of your siblings and in the chaos of our lives.  

I pray you will always feel loved, and you'll never feel alone. I pray you know your worth, not only to me and those who love you, but to God.  I pray that you'll never feel unworthy of anyone's affection, knowing that in the years to come, you may struggle due to the events in your toddler-hood.  I pray that you always love learning, creating, laughing, hugging, reading, and dancing.  I pray you give yourself grace and moments to breathe because of your intense spirit.

I pray you know how much your siblings love you, and how you are best friend to both of them, even when you're not getting along.  

As much as I wish you could stay little for a while longer, I am so excited to see what great things God has in store for you.  He has a plan for you, and while I don't know what it is, it excites me to my core.

Collin Liam, you're a treasure.  You are mine, and I'm so blessed that I am yours.

All my Love,

Momma Bear

Laughing is (one of) my favorite activities.

It occured to me (today, and on many prior occasions), that I like to surround myself with family and friends who have a great sense of humor (individually, and collectively). Laughter is one of my favorite noises, and also one of my favorite activities.

Now, I don't seek out people who are funny, it just seems that I think all of my closest family and friends have moments of pure hilarity.

My wonderful husband makes me laugh on a daily basis. Often, it's fits of rolling laughter and school-girl type giggles where my voice gets really high and squeaky and I can't catch my breath.

My sister, Samantha, who is spending most of the summer living with us, is also one who can get me giggling. And Tarah, my cousin and dear friend, who lives in our basement!

I name these three in particular, because they all live in my house.

Anyway, today I got the giggles for no apparent reason, while my sister and I were driving through a parking lot. Giggling lead to coughing. Giggling lead to gagging. I rolled down my window afraid I was going to vomit all over the place, and pulled up to a stop sign. And as I did, some older lady in her car, coming toward us, was laughing and looking at me with a huge grin on her face. Glad I could spread some joy.

There's no real reason to this post, other than to say, I like laughter.

Happy Thursday.

Burstin' My Bubble.

Today, I am 19 weeks pregnant. That's nearly halfway there, if you go by the 40 week gestation period! I can hardly believe it.

I found out I was pregnant on February 22. I was one day shy of 4 weeks along at that point. It's crazy to think it's already been 15 weeks since I took that test on a whim, and refused to believe it. It's been 15 weeks since Jake called me, his only response was the most elated, overjoyed, jubiliant, rolling giggle I have ever heard.

19 isn't generally that exciting, I guess (though I do prefer odd numbers over even, so I like it better than 20 weeks), except... I woke this morning to a wonderful surprise.

I was lying in bed, mostly asleep, just thinking about what all I had going on today, and dreading however many minutes it would be before my alarm went off. I felt this strange, bubbling sensation in my lower left abdomen, off to the side of my belly button a few inches. It was very quick, but I noticed it in my grogginess. I didn't think much of it.

Until a short time later I felt it again in the same spot. It felt almost like there was a tiny bubble-gum bubble forming and then bursting softly inside me.

Then I realized what it was. Baby had kicked (or punched) me! I laid there a little bit longer, but I really had to pee, so I didn't get to feel it again. I know it's still kind of early for any consistency, and that it's best felt lying still and relaxed, but I'm hoping to feel it again soon!

In other news, on Sunday, Jake and I got together with our friends, Robert & Jillian, who brought a beautiful baby boy into the world on May 25. Now, I always love babies, and I love watching Jake interact with babies, but for some reason, this time was more exciting than usual. When we parted ways, Jake could do nothing but tell me how he cannot wait until we have one.

And we are going to!

Grayson is the first newborn we've met since finding out we were expecting, and it seems so much more emotional now. Not only are we excited beyond belief for Robert & Jillian, but it's now also a reminder that our dreams are coming true, as well.

Oh, and unrelated to that, but my 15 year-old sister, Samantha, moved in for the summer! I'm pretty excited. I hope she doens't get bored with me in too big a hurry!