In the wise words of Elsa, "Let it go, let it go, can't hold me back anymore." I hate that song. My kids have listened to it so many times that the whole scene is forever ingrained in my mind. Take a step back, though, and just read the words. For all that's sane and holy, DO NOT SING THEM. Read them in your best non-Elsa voice and let it sink in for a minute.
You guys, life throws shit. All the time. It might have hit you right in the face. There's a good chance it landed in your eyes, blinding you to anything but the shit. It may have stuck in your nose and mouth flavoring the air you breathe and the food you taste. It's a nasty, bitter, ugly thing. It might take some time to sort through. I am not taking that away from you. It might take you a year, it might take you 2 years, it might take you 10 years. At some point, though, you have to tell that shit to get the heck off of your face. Tell it that there is no way it's taking any more of your time and your precious happiness.
At some point, having the shit covering your face goes from completely out of your control to a choice you make every day...to be a victim...to be miserable...to wallow in something you don't have to wallow in anymore. This may sound harsh, but it's really up to you. Are you going to let the shit blind you, suffocate you, gag you again today? Or. Are you ready to take a rag, wash it off, and throw it in the trash for good?
I'm a firm believer that life is a choice. Happiness is a choice. Love is a choice. Laughter is a choice. If you wake up every day expecting the worst, waiting for your kids to suck up all of your time and patience, expecting your spouse to fail you yet again, waiting for someone at work to frustrate you beyond human capacity, ignoring all of the funny little blessings happening around you, you are setting yourself up for a really bad day...bad week...bad life.
I've been through some shit. I've seen some people who have to use every ounce of strength in their body to get through the lake of shit they are submerged in. An ocean of shit I can't even begin to understand. But they do it. These are my heroes in life. I've seen them come out, heads held high, full of love, ready to take on life again. If I can do it. If they can do it. So can you.
So, please, if you are stuck in place where you can't see, can't breathe, can't taste the beauty in life, LET. IT. GO. So much easier said than done. No one has a magic cure. A magic answer. A step by step program to follow. It all comes down to you. Just remember you aren't alone. If you are ready to let the shit go and feel like no one will understand, don't hesitant to send me a FB message, an email, or call me. My shit can't be that much worse than yours. Let's stink together for a minute and find a way to throw it out and make things smell pretty again. I might not have the all the answers (or any), but if you are ready to change, I will be here every step of the way as you shake all of that shit off and start a happier life.
Friday, May 15, 2015
Friday, April 3, 2015
Let's Just Hold Hands and Take a Walk
Good Friday. What a horribly, wonderful day. I spend every Good Friday thinking about Jesus and my walk with him. Am I doing it right? Am I on the right path? Am I loving enough? Forgiving enough? Working hard enough not to break His commandments? I wonder about every little decision I make. Is this what God wants or am I doing what I want? It's harder to think about today when I'm imagining Him hanging on a cross after being beaten and knocked down and tortured. All for me. He did this all for me. And you. For all of us. Out of love. Can you imagine a love like that?
I've been spending a lot of time praying today. I've thanked God for His sacrifice. I've prayed that my life is following His plan. I was in the middle of taking a break from all of that thinking and praying to check my email when a little hand tapped me on the arm.
I looked down and saw a grinning Logan reaching his hand toward mine. I took his hand, stood up, and let him lead me to whatever it was that he wanted me to see. Usually, he takes me straight to the playroom and demands that I build something, play with something, watch him play with something, read a book, the list goes on.
This time, we walked right past the playroom. I followed his slow, careful steps into my bedroom. He looked at me for reassurance, I smiled, and we continued into the bathroom. He led me right in front of the full length mirror, sat down, pulled me down, and looked at me in the mirror. He pointed at both of us, smiled his irresistible dimple-filled smile, stood up, and we continued out of the bathroom. We hadn't spoken a single word to each other through this process.
He took me to the living room, pointed to the couch and then to me. I sat down and he crawled right up in my lap and snuggled into me. He let out a sigh, and looked up at me with one more smile.
I'm still not sure there was a point to the whole thing. He just wanted me to smile and follow him and offer my presence and love.
That's when it hit me. Maybe that IS the point. The whole point to all of this. Maybe if I calm down and just take God's hand, that's really all that He wants. Maybe I'm spending way too much time demanding things of myself, wondering about the how, the why, the what next of things, instead of just grabbing His hand walking through life holding on tight to that love and reassurance.
So, for today, I'm going to stop worrying and wondering. I'm going to grab the hand of Jesus and walk through my day smiling with eyes full of love.
I've been spending a lot of time praying today. I've thanked God for His sacrifice. I've prayed that my life is following His plan. I was in the middle of taking a break from all of that thinking and praying to check my email when a little hand tapped me on the arm.
I looked down and saw a grinning Logan reaching his hand toward mine. I took his hand, stood up, and let him lead me to whatever it was that he wanted me to see. Usually, he takes me straight to the playroom and demands that I build something, play with something, watch him play with something, read a book, the list goes on.
This time, we walked right past the playroom. I followed his slow, careful steps into my bedroom. He looked at me for reassurance, I smiled, and we continued into the bathroom. He led me right in front of the full length mirror, sat down, pulled me down, and looked at me in the mirror. He pointed at both of us, smiled his irresistible dimple-filled smile, stood up, and we continued out of the bathroom. We hadn't spoken a single word to each other through this process.
He took me to the living room, pointed to the couch and then to me. I sat down and he crawled right up in my lap and snuggled into me. He let out a sigh, and looked up at me with one more smile.
I'm still not sure there was a point to the whole thing. He just wanted me to smile and follow him and offer my presence and love.
That's when it hit me. Maybe that IS the point. The whole point to all of this. Maybe if I calm down and just take God's hand, that's really all that He wants. Maybe I'm spending way too much time demanding things of myself, wondering about the how, the why, the what next of things, instead of just grabbing His hand walking through life holding on tight to that love and reassurance.
So, for today, I'm going to stop worrying and wondering. I'm going to grab the hand of Jesus and walk through my day smiling with eyes full of love.
Thursday, March 5, 2015
On Grace
We were having one of those mornings. One of those nothing at all is going right or happening easily mornings. And you know who started it? Me. I let the morning get the best of me from the moment I grumpily stepped out of bed.
I woke up with a frown on my face. I stubbed my toe as I stumbled through the dark house on the way to get that first cup of life-giving coffee.
I snapped at my husband for trying to help me when I didn't want help.
I rolled my eyes and felt the tension build when both girls walked into my room at 5:45 in the morning. I told them they had to go sit down and keep themselves entertained for the next 45 minutes because they were interrupting my quiet morning routine. I didn't have the patience to deal with their never-ending needs that early this morning.
I broke up a fight about a doll that one daughter claimed as her own when it really belongs to the other by taking the doll and throwing it on top of the fridge so no one could have it. I told the same daughter (who is only 4...still a baby really) to GET. OUT. when she continued to cry about the damn doll. That's a lie, guys. I didn't "tell" her. I yelled in my best mad mom voice.
Because I WAS mad and I felt mean and ugly inside and horrible and I didn't get a grip on it. I let it take over this morning. I woke up feeling overwhelmed by kids. I woke up feeling overwhelmed by a house that needs cleaned...desperately. I woke up feeling selfish and unwilling to take care of anyone's feelings except my own.
When it was time to get coats and backpacks on, I just wanted to be left alone. I wanted to drop the girls off at school, put Logan in front of the TV, and sit in the quiet and let myself wallow in my bad place. I was getting ready to less than calmly tell Camden for the fourth time in 3 minutes to get her coat on when it happened.
Hannah came up and hugged my waist and with the complete honesty and love that only a child can give said, "You're the best Mom EVER." Camden, as she danced around still not doing a single thing I asked of her, but being completely and unapologetically and perfectly Camden, piped up, "You are Mom! Even when you're mad!" Logan, who had just been screaming about not wanting his coat on, started laughing and jumping up and down yelling "Yeah! Yeah! Mommy!"
My heart cracked and shifted. The ugly was gone and I hit my knees and hugged them all tight and let their grace wash over us all. Even when I was at my worst, they found a way to only see my best. They gave me grace when I needed it most, without really even knowing they were doing it.
I came home from dropping the girls off and sat down for a minute to think about the morning. I released a lot of stress with a good cry and realized what I forgot to do this morning. I forgot to take a minute to breathe and pray and be calm and to love these kids, this house, this life, myself just as they all were at that moment. Because even when it's dirty, the house is wonderful. Because even when they are fighting and crying and screaming, these children are more precious than anything in this world. Because even at my worst, I am a good person with a great life.
Offer grace, you guys. You never know when you may be giving it to someone who needs it the most.
I woke up with a frown on my face. I stubbed my toe as I stumbled through the dark house on the way to get that first cup of life-giving coffee.
I snapped at my husband for trying to help me when I didn't want help.
I rolled my eyes and felt the tension build when both girls walked into my room at 5:45 in the morning. I told them they had to go sit down and keep themselves entertained for the next 45 minutes because they were interrupting my quiet morning routine. I didn't have the patience to deal with their never-ending needs that early this morning.
I broke up a fight about a doll that one daughter claimed as her own when it really belongs to the other by taking the doll and throwing it on top of the fridge so no one could have it. I told the same daughter (who is only 4...still a baby really) to GET. OUT. when she continued to cry about the damn doll. That's a lie, guys. I didn't "tell" her. I yelled in my best mad mom voice.
Because I WAS mad and I felt mean and ugly inside and horrible and I didn't get a grip on it. I let it take over this morning. I woke up feeling overwhelmed by kids. I woke up feeling overwhelmed by a house that needs cleaned...desperately. I woke up feeling selfish and unwilling to take care of anyone's feelings except my own.
When it was time to get coats and backpacks on, I just wanted to be left alone. I wanted to drop the girls off at school, put Logan in front of the TV, and sit in the quiet and let myself wallow in my bad place. I was getting ready to less than calmly tell Camden for the fourth time in 3 minutes to get her coat on when it happened.
Hannah came up and hugged my waist and with the complete honesty and love that only a child can give said, "You're the best Mom EVER." Camden, as she danced around still not doing a single thing I asked of her, but being completely and unapologetically and perfectly Camden, piped up, "You are Mom! Even when you're mad!" Logan, who had just been screaming about not wanting his coat on, started laughing and jumping up and down yelling "Yeah! Yeah! Mommy!"
My heart cracked and shifted. The ugly was gone and I hit my knees and hugged them all tight and let their grace wash over us all. Even when I was at my worst, they found a way to only see my best. They gave me grace when I needed it most, without really even knowing they were doing it.
I came home from dropping the girls off and sat down for a minute to think about the morning. I released a lot of stress with a good cry and realized what I forgot to do this morning. I forgot to take a minute to breathe and pray and be calm and to love these kids, this house, this life, myself just as they all were at that moment. Because even when it's dirty, the house is wonderful. Because even when they are fighting and crying and screaming, these children are more precious than anything in this world. Because even at my worst, I am a good person with a great life.
Offer grace, you guys. You never know when you may be giving it to someone who needs it the most.
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