What I Wish I Had Known before becoming a Parent

Recently, Lance and I deactivated our facebook accounts. I reactivate mine on the weekends, allowing myself to catch up on recent life changes of friends, and it also allows me to upload pictures of the girls from that week for grandparents to enjoy.

Overall, I greatly dislike facebook; however, there is one aspect of it that I truly love. I LOVE getting online to see happy announcements of engagements, weddings, pregnancies, and births. I see a good share of unhappy events as well, but being 25 and about 98% of my friends on there being female, I see more happy news. It seems to come in spurts as well. Less than a year ago, I couldn't believe the number of pregnancy announcements covering my news feed each day. It dropped off and they seem to be beginning again, while that last group is about to cover my news feed with tiny little smooshed faces and happy parent pictures.

As I sat looking through the feed last night seeing announcements in between other statuses I don't care near as much about ;), I thought about this time three years ago. I was 8 months pregnant with my first child. I never thought that I'd have children, growing up. I always said I'd be in another country, unmarried, childless, and happy. I wince now when I think of my careless words. Sigh..the arrogance of youth. which again just makes me laugh, since I'm 25 which means that you may be reading blog posts every three years about how arrogant I was three years ago ;).

Because of that arrogance and pride, it took longer than it should have for me to fully come to grips that I would be a mother. Then, when I finally accepted it, I was determined to be the best mom I knew how to be. That included a lot of reading, research, and sacrifice. I was certain I'd nurse my baby, even if the entire idea still completely weirded me out. I was going to make her babyfood myself, which actually turned out ridiculously easy anyway, thank the Good Lord. But I had a whole list of things I'd do. In my head, I loved this baby and I was going to prove it through how good of a mom I was going to be. Gentleness never even occurred to me.

It didn't help that my LEAST favorite part of pregnancy is the attention it draws to my body from other people. Stupid comments made by strangers or loved ones would infuriate me, leaving me to cry later when I was alone, scared to death of what was happening within me and what would happen later.

Thinking through all of that from this side of it, I was thinking of what I wish I had known then. I decided I'd blog it, if nothing else than perhaps someone that is or will be there will gain some sort of confidence from it.

I wish I had known that preparing myself to be the best mom wasn't the same as love. That everything I did or do means nothing if at the end of the day, I don't do it out of the unconditional love that drives a servant's heart.

I wish I had known that it doesn't matter who you offend. It doesn't matter who wants to take pictures of or hold your baby. It doesn't. It will in a few hours, but not then. When your child is born, what matters is that as many of the first few hours as you need are all about you as a family. You, daddy, and baby. Sorry, random distant relative, but you absolutely aren't a priority right now. I first saw London's face through a picture on my dad's phone. They took her to do vitals before I could even hold her and kept her for two hours. For two hours, I sat alone in my hospital room on the verge of tears wondering what kind of mess I'd gotten myself into. I was more protective with Story. She laid on me until I was good and ready to share her, and even then it wasn't long. I fought for months at trying to get the same connection and relationship between London and I that I had with Story in minutes. no, seconds.

I wish I had known how fleeting the delivery is. I was so scared and nervous, that I had looked at it from such a wrong angle. I was self conscious, fearful, and distant. It was not long anyway with London, but I disconnected myself without even realizing it in an effort to save face. I didn't want to do or say anything while in that moment that would give fuel to stories that would get told later about my behavior while in pain. (yes...it's dumb that women would talk and dumb that I'd care)

I wish I had known that in that moment, it's not about what I did. It's not about what the nurse did, who the doctor was, or any one of those things. What matters is that God, the Creator of the Universe and your baby, stops everything else important in your life and says TIME. And what comes forth is your hope for the future. Your heart and soul in the form of a living being. That gentleness overcomes environment, and love casts out fear.

Peace, practically.

I've been reading so many good posts lately about the words that women have been claiming over this new year. Peace was the word I settled on a couple of weeks ago. It was the word I felt 2011 missed most in my life. The verse written on our framed chalkboard in the kitchen for me to see regularly is Philippians 4:7, but I would have written more of its context if I'd had the room.

Rejoice in the Lord always. I will say it again: Rejoice! Let your gentleness be evident to all. The Lord is near. Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus. Philippians 4:4-7 NIV

Every once in awhile, I will be reading a book of the Bible and stumble upon verses I've read who knows how many times and all of a sudden, they have clear, precise, and complete practical application. These verses supplied one of those moments recently. Paul has broken down the path to peace here so that even I can understand it.

Rejoice in the Lord! Be gentle. Do not be anxious. Be thankful. Present petitions to God. And you will have peace.

Rejoice, be glad or happy, in the Lord, not sad or unhappy. Be gentle, even in hard times, don't be rough or harsh. Don't carry worry around or stress about things that won't add another minute to your life. Gratefully go before God with petitions instead of ungratefully venting to Him. and you have it. Peace. not just peace, but peace that transcends all understanding, and will guard your heart AND your mind in Christ!

So many things about the Christian walk is so over analyzed or complicated, that I feel such a relief when I feel like something that has felt so impossible suddenly feels attainable. sigh...peace. Not a single moment, not a cup of coffee and book before my kids spill it on the pages, not a place, not a pinterest picture, peace...the peace of God.

my 2011

Is it too late for a 2011 recap? I have been pondering over the last year as of late and thinking on what 2011 meant for me and the family entrusted to me. Lance and I grew even closer than we had been before. We saw our favorite band in our favorite city.

Our oldest turned two, became completely potty trained (YAY!), learned to climb her swingset ladder, got 6 stitches, became even more girly, battled and defeated fear in many ways, and developed in the personality God gave her a little more, becoming even more lovable.

Our youngest turned one. She learned to crawl, to walk, to run, to talk, to feed herself, and pretty much everything one needs to be independent. She spent most of 2011 in a sling, tied close to her mama's heart because she wouldn't have it any other way. She fought with the dog we got in 2011, played with her big sister, and displayed to everyone dance moves you wouldn't believe a child that young could have.

I started my blog Little Hands on www.jonesboro.com and got an opportunity to share weekly a little here and there of the happiness that runs amok in our home. We began hosting a Journey Group young married Bible study in our home that meets weekly and developed relationships with people that I now call our closest friends.

I also had some dark valleys in 2011. I learn a little more each year that I not only do not know everything like I once believed, but I actually know nothing. I resolved in 2011 to not only not voice opinions as much as I could, but to not even have the opinions to voice. To make my mind a positive blank slate. I'm still working on that one, by the way. I pulled away from leadership in any way as much as I possibly could, increasingly aware of my ineptitude at being a leader or role model.

I also walked through dark places with God. I wasn't aware at the time that I was walking with Him. In fact, I not only thought He was not walking with me, at times, I battled a deep question of "does He actually exist at all?"

That's probably shocking for a lot of people, and I'm glad because not only is it incredibly hard to admit to, I did a fairly good job at hiding it. I tried to keep up an outward appearance of high faith, not for others, but for myself. Situations in 2011 caused me to question motives, trust, and goodness, not only in other people, but in God. What if I've given up so much, sacrificed, put my whole heart and whole belief system into a faith, a community, and a God that in the end isn't there? Silence. So. much. silence.

I cried out for a Word. For the Spirit that was supposed to be in me to yell inside my heart, He exists! He's real! He's good! He LOVES you!

silence.

I prayed so many times. Cried out. I begged to have faith in what I was still teaching my children.

silence.

then, it happened. It wasn't a shout. It was soft. a whisper.

a deep, innate assurance.

He is real. I hesitated. Was that my mind? I so badly wanted to be at a place I had been. I listened again. I continued, waiting quietly. I continued silently praying. Then, I resolved to stop crying out. To be still, and silent before Him. To wait patiently before Him. Then, the whisper continued within my soul. It became deeper. Never louder, just...deeper.

It spoke to my soul and filled so many cracks in my heart and mind. Over a few months, the voice grew within me. Then, I knew. I knew He'd been there all along. He'd walked beside me at times where it was too dark to see Him there. When I was too loud with the noise in my life and my own thoughts and fears to hear His voice. He was there. He's still here. Patience is not my strong point. I'm working so hard at fixing that, but it has grown in 2011. Two little people with big needs help that a lot, but so has my walk. By October, so many verses slammed my heart. By that point, I no longer doubted His existence, but I felt so small, so insignificant, that He missed me. That maybe I'd done something wrong and searched frantically for the barrier that I'd placed between us, and I couldn't find it to tear it down.

Oh, 2011...you were so hard, but I know that even when I'm 80 (unless I get to go home before then :)), I'll remember that year. I'll remember those dark places that He illuminated, and those questions He answered.

I waited patiently for the LORD;
he turned to me and heard my cry.
He lifted me out of the slimy pit,
out of the mud and mire; he set my feet on a rock
and gave me a firm place to stand.
He put a new song in my mouth,
a hymn of praise to our God.
Many will see and fear the LORD
and put their trust in him.
Blessed is the one
who trusts in the LORD, who does not look to the proud,
to those who turn aside to false gods.
Psalm 40:1-4

so good. and I can assure you, so true.

Extending Grace

There are so many creations on this earth that I marvel at. I get completely sidetracked by nature, even if I've seen the particular tree or whatever 100 times. Seasons, animals, people. The creation I have fallen in love with overall the most, however, is woman. Look around. I have yet to find another creation of His more beautiful, frail, strong, fleeting, constant. We come in different sizes, noise levels, shapes. Men reflect so many attributes of God, but we are also an image bearer in our own rights as well. We carry within us the nurturing, comforting, peace of God in our creation and in His Spirit.

With that being said, what's the fastest way to befriend a woman? Compliment her? no. Find something in common that you both like? Maybe for some, but no. Slander? yes. The very fastest way to make a friend with another female is to cut down something or someone around you. Think about it. Sitting in class, or a waiting room, or whatever. You could make small talk or compliment her shoes and sometimes it will begin a conversation, but it'll likely die out. However, make a comment about the teacher's clothes, or the doctor taking a ridiculous amount of time when you have much better things to do. She'll jump right on board. Not she. We. me.

I've been thinking lately on John 8:1-11. I'm going to go ahead and post it so we'll be on the same page. It's the story of the accused woman standing in front of Jesus in the temple.

"1but Jesus went to the Mount of Olives.
2 At dawn he appeared again in the temple courts, where all the people gathered around him, and he sat down to teach them. 3 The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group 4 and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery. 5 In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?” 6 They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.
But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. 7 When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.” 8 Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.
9 At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there. 10 Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”
11 “No one, sir,” she said.
“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.” "

the verse before that is "Then each went to his own home."

There are a couple of points that we can't see in the verses alone. One being that Jewish law didn't allow for compromising circumstances to be enough to accuse someone. There had to be an actual witness to the act. These men, or at least one, would have actually had to spy or burst in to actually see this woman committing adultery.

Second, the Law of Moses didn't allow for this punishment for this sin. In order for a woman to be stoned for adultery, she would need to be a betrothed virgin...and, there would have to be both parties in the sin present so that both would be condemned and stoned.

Third, as if that wasn't' bad enough, Roman law did not allow for them to execute people. If Jesus had, indeed, said to stone her, he would have been guilty under Roman law.

These men really wanted Jesus gone, and they really wanted this woman humiliated and punished. Most believe the entire thing was a set up, including an allowance of letting the man she was with escape on purpose.

Here's where this applies in our life. How many women pass through our day to day lives? Each moment, you have a choice as to which party you belong to. One, full of accusers wanting punishment. One with Grace.

This woman was guilty. Don't forget that fact. She stood there before them, incredibly guilty. I wonder how she was. Was she meek and terrified? Was she proud and refused to show her fear? There's probably a good reason that her disposition is left out. It's because it doesn't matter. And these men had a serious issue with her. What we don't know is if she was just a random prostitute from the street that they chose to use as a tool to trap Jesus, or was she a woman living a secret life of sin? Did they have what we would call a good reason to be angry? Did she sleep with a man one of them were close to and pulled him from God or his wife? Did she say hurtful things to one of their wives causing her to weep for hours? It doesn't tell us if they had a "good" reason...a personal reason to dislike this woman. It tells us this: She was guilty.

Jesus himself didn't approve of her sin. He told her that. "Go now and leave your life of sin." But the grace, oh..the grace. They all left, one by one. They knew they couldn't stand there as if they'd never sinned...even the proud arrogant ones that were the last to leave. She could have ran! She could have fled from that temple were countless eyes looked at her, quite possibly, half dressed (or not at all) body and uncovered head. But she had seen something. Something in the eyes of the One they were calling the Messiah. Grace. She stood there, probably in awe and fear, waiting. She probably struggled so badly wanting to flee from the eyes of some, but wanting with everything that was inside of her for the eyes bent down to the ground to look back up at her. "Then neither do I condemn you..."

If Jesus Himself looks at a woman that is standing knee deep in her own sin, then who am I to EVER condemn ANYONE of anything, whether true or flat out slander?! Reading this passage makes me understand the Jewish tradition of tearing your clothes and throwing ashes over your head as you wail and weep. How arrogant...how selfish and judgemental I have lived my life. Faces of women from my past circle around me as I pray that someone in their lives will reach out and show them the Grace that I refused them. That someone, anyone at all, will not fail them as I did. That someone will step over from that group of accusers, and be the one using love to cast out fear and extending grace no matter the circumstances, no matter their response. They may throw it back in their face, but who cares? Is there someone in your life that you could extend grace to? Someone that you'd rather hate? or at least extremely dislike? Sometimes, we must swallow something that is tougher than we expected...but what else has Christianity cost you? Christ gave up His life for me, what has it cost me?

lengthy post, if you've made it to the end, bless your heart.

Simply Ten in December

A list of simply ten. Ten things of the here and now to help live in the moment and be grateful for it.

a birthday boy that gives us cause to celebrate the one man in our home (other than Jazz)

a little girl that sits to watch the Nutcracker ballet over and over

that little girl changing her dress up dress to match the sugar plum fairies and join them in dance.

warm breath of little ones fogging up cold windows

Christmas break with it's freedom and long list of non-school books to read

this year's Christmas ornaments for the girls hanging on the tree. two little glass angels

a moment of calm with the littlest one sleeping and the bigger little one dancing to Nutcracker music

the knowledge of how anxious and scared Mary was so many nights ago, now that I'm a mother as well

also, the knowledge of the feelings she may have felt after finally holding her precious wee one, except she held within her a much larger hope

a house, warm and cozy, that falls somewhere in between a preschool with it's toys and craft decorations hanging all over to a coffee house with jazz playing and an incessant aroma of coffee

Where value is found

Because of some recent craziness in our house, I've been thinking on value as of late. Where it can be found. What determines it. My head has always said that value is determined in small things, but I don't know that my heart thought much on it until recently. However, as I've been looking for my value, I believe I have discovered just where it resides.

Today is a pretty typical day. It's not quite 3pm and the girls are napping. London fought sleep quite viciously, but finally surrendered. I washed a load of clothes that had a disposable diaper in them, and therefore, washed the load three times now. (Salt, by the way. Run them again with only salt sprinkled into the machine instead of detergent. who knew?)

I've cooked a whole chicken with some veggies mixed in, deboned it, and used the broth from it for some homemade soup. I've painted half of Story's room with primer. I've taken a long bath. blah blah blah.

As I stood at the sink wiping it down, I stared out the window. (I recently took the mini blinds down so we only have curtains so that I can see up into the tree and sky while I stand there.)

I noticed a chubby squirrel digging in the yard, looking for a treasure he buried back when food was plentiful with a watchful eye toward our backdoor, just in case our Westie came running full speed at him again. He found his nut, then ran up the tree and laid across a few twigs on a branch right in front of my window to cover himself with his tail and eat his find.

And I thought...there's my value in today. It's not a list of things I do, whether long or short. It's not a paycheck brought home, or bills that come in. It's not the size, appearance, or cleanliness of your home. It's not what you do while constantly on the go. It's what you do when you stop. ...and if you stop.

My day is not good because it is productive. My day is good because of moments God gives to glimpse Him in His creation. It's little feet in footed pj's dangling from a sleepy toddler as you hold them and sway and hum, attempting to coax them back to sleep. It's simple statements from preschoolers that simply tell you, "you're doing a good job."

It's a moment saturated with radiating, never ending love from a Father. Value is found in understanding that this world is not only about Him, and not you, but that it is fleeting. This season will not last, and neither will these troubles. But neither will these sweet moments. So, which will we focus on? The fleeting stress and anxiety? Or, the fleeting moments of trees losing the very last of this years' leaves and opportunities to greet or compliment a stranger? Tis the season, you know. ;)

Strength in my hope for the future

The "not of the world, but in the world" Christian mentality has always been easy for me in ways. The Spirit within me has always had a pretty bold fight against many mentalities our world and culture sends us, which is great, except that does leave me friendless many of my days. The one mentality I've always seemed to struggle with the most, however, is the instant gratification.

Our culture has raised us to believe that not only do we need better, we DESERVE better, and we deserve better right this second. Books took too long, then newspapers took too long. Next to fall was the even more brief Internet article. Now, your message to me must be 140 characters or less, or I'm moving on. I'm bored. I'm impatient. I'm done.

Temporary isn't always best, but we think it is if it means instant.

Where this hurts the most? Parenting. Motherhood. I can see from my view as a few years into the mix, but still quite the rookie, why so many mothers and fathers start out with motivation and joy in parenthood, but soon feel defeated and give up. The idea that you must spend 2 to 5 years investing your time, your money, your heart, and yourself into something before you see the rewards come to fruitation is beyond our comprehension.

Not that you aren't rewarded 1000 times a day, but it takes awhile to be rewarded by seeing them and not a mirror.

Recently, we had our first trip to the Emergency Room. It was pretty traumatic for London and I both, but it was a major milestone in motherhood for me. For the last few weeks, she has been transitioning out of that beloved toddler stage to the preschooler one, so you can just BE with her more without entertaining or distracting constantly. I've always known she was my silly but serious child. I know how she will respond and react. I knew that though she would still be scared and in pain, she would calm if we only got her cleaned up and all the blood washed away. I knew that I would have to be gentle, firm, and specific about all the details about going to the doctor to get her boo-boo fixed. I knew I had to be sensitive. Oh, so sensitive for our sensitive girl. But, I did not know one thing.

I never knew how strong London had become.

Oh sure, she's been strong before, but it was always a strength she drew from me, or her daddy, or even a blanket. She wasn't as strong as she was comforted. But this time, she was strong, in her own, on her own. She still needed me, of course. I held her the whole time. I hugged her while they gave her the shot (that took FOREVER.) I hummed and sang to her right after it happened while I put pressure on the cut to stop the bleeding and have a look. But, she was strong. She is strong.

From the time I found out I was expecting her, it has been almost 3.5 years. I have poured out myself again and again, laying there at night or nap time completely empty and begging my Father for more. For more joy, for more patience, for more self-control, and love, and faith, and and and and. And He always gave them to me. I saw them as well that night. I saw my joy in my little girl seeing other people helping her and her trust deepening. I saw my self-control in restraining my emotions when all I wanted to do was cry and panic, but she needed calm and support.

I'm so proud of who she is becoming, and I'm that much more motivated to continue pouring all I know and have of Him into her. That strength and calm we saw in her that night were hers, but taught by us. And that should be motivation for any parent or teacher, even if that child doesn't come home with you at night.