Month: October 2019

My sister sent me this picture last week as a reminder. Unfortunately I had forgotten this gem along with so many others.

This picture represents a time in my life when I didn’t really have time to document the daily fun and struggles. I think the oldest was three. The middle was two, which meant the baby was an infant. The oldest had gotten into the car (keep in mind he was three) and unbuckled the two year old’s seat just for fun.

It is with regret that I admit that I didn’t catch this. I had no idea. My husband drove my car somewhere, and when he took a turn the middle child toppled over in his seat. He was buckled into the seat which made this situation much worse.

My two year old was sitting sideways in the back seat. Helpless because he was strapped in. Some might say, “how could this happen?” Others might say, “I get that. Happened to me once or twice before.”

There were many hard times in our home. Many days when we just barely kept everyone alive. This picture made me laugh. Although there weren’t many days when I laughed at the time, it was still a very fun, beautiful, yet challenging time. On more than one occasion, I called or messaged my husband before 9 am to tell him to pray because I wasn’t sure I could keep them all alive that day.

I’m certain I’m not the only one. I’m certain we all feel like our very best is nowhere near enough. There were so many days that I cried in silence. Not because I was a mom, but because I was human. These kids are amazing. They are so brilliantly funny and ingenious. And some days I cackle and laugh at the absurdity that is our lives, and some days I crumble at the idea that I can’t be everything.

No one was hurt in the sneaky unbuckling of the car seat. Unfortunately, until my sister shared it, I had forgotten this epic moment (which was another tragedy in itself).

We all think that we couldn’t possibly forget. But we do. Because our lives are demanding. We battle the never-ending piles of housework, ball schedules, spelling lists, and the million other things on the never-ending to-do lists. I promised myself I would never forget. But I have.

I was certain I couldn’t forget anything like the other mothers who have gone before. I knew that every minute was so demanding and so challenging they would be seared in my memory forever. But I am not special. I am just like all of the moms before me.

But when I received this picture I realized that none of that is even remotely true. Even now, every day at our house is a gamble of who will live and who will need stitches…and as hard as I tried to be sure I never lost a moment, they are gone. This funny and scary memory was simply and easily wiped from my brain.

As special as I like to think I am… I am not. As special as I like to think this journey my family embarked on is, it’s not. I am not the only mom who prays for safety for her children to live through the day in her care. We have been doing this for centuries. In the moment, we all think, there’s no way I could ever forget my toddler flooding the kitchen, or I’ll always remember the day my toddler covered the house in vaseline. But we do. We all do.

We are surrounded by distractions and expectations that keep us from being able to live in the moment. I allow the mundane to distract me and steal my joy. The truth is, I’ll never remember every score on every spelling test. And unfortunately I will fail to remember the moments that I so earnestly long to remember.

I am currently battling my desire to be everything the world tells me to be, because it is in direct conflict with who my heart tells me to be for my family. I so much want to be present. I think we all do. And currently, I am losing that battle. I don’t know the answers. But I’m just going to keep on fighting. And praying. And hoping I’ll get a strength from God to be able to manage. Because if you have read more than one of my blogs, you will know I need something greater than myself to make it.

Much love mommas.

❤️ Shalom.

I see all of these posts about moms who don’t need friends. They don’t need anyone outside of their families. And that is awesome. And amazing. But that’s not me.

Judge me. Shame me. But I need my girls. This is tricky. Because I don’t pretend to think that what I have is what every woman has. I am honest enough to understand that I have been blessed with a ridiculously special “tribe” of women. And I have undoubtedly the very best friends that any one could ask for. And I NEED them.

I need them to pull me out of myself. I need them to remind me who I am. I need them to laugh at me, with me, for me. God gave me women: women that were strong, faithful, resilient, funny, and loyal.

He knew that I would stumble and sometimes fall. He knew I needed friends to drag me out of my house kicking and screaming to remember my heart and my passion.

When I see those posts about women who don’t need friends I think, “you go!” But I also know that I need my women. A part of me wonders if those girls who don’t need friends are ok. I wonder if they have the same feelings I have about feeling lost and overwhelmed. Maybe some women don’t feel completely inadequate on a daily basis. I certainly hope so. I, however, feel like I failed, like I’m not enough, like I should have been more or done more every, single day. But I also know, all of our journeys are different.

But this girl, she needs her friends. God gave me these women through much pain and heartache. Heartache that I obviously would trade in a second. But when I stop to think about the richness and beauty they bring to me, my life, my faith, and my family, I realize why. Each one was brought to me to serve a purpose. And with each one I have a deep connection that has nothing to do with graduation dates, or kids’ birthdays, or convenience. These women feed my soul. They know my heart. They feed my spirit.

They remind me of who I want to be. They call me out when I am being bratty or selfish. They love me and push me to my limits. They carry me when I am down.

I wish all women had friends whom they feel a deep connection to. A friend they simply can’t live without. I can’t imagine a single breath without them. And the good news is that they support my purpose. We are all trying to be the best versions of wives and mothers that we can be. We don’t abandon our responsibilities to run off together when it’s convenient. They want me to be the best for my family. They want and expect me to be better.

We build one another up and hold one another when we are weak. These women tell me when I am wrong. They don’t allow me to fold. They hold me accountable when I am self-righteous or self-centered. And as hard as it is to swallow, they make me better. They make me a better mom, wife, and Christian. I might not always love what they have to say…but I can trust that these women love me enough to make me comfortable and uncomfortable at the same time.

For all of the posts out there that state that there are women who don’t have close friends and for that they are thankful- kuddos. You rock. If you are able to juggle the insurmountable challenges of life without help, you are a Wonder Woman. I’ll gladly accept that I am not that strong. I need my girls. I honestly need them like air. And God knew that, which is why He wove them into my soul through heartache, pain, joy, and laughter. They are my breath. And I am certain God strategically placed each of them in my life to make me stronger and better for my purpose through Him.

I am humbled that He loves me enough to go to any length to surround me with beautiful souls that I probably don’t deserve. And I will never, ever celebrate the fact that I don’t need or want them. So much love and

Shalom,

A struggling woman. ❤️