Tag Archives: jesus

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, random thoughts, women

Freedom from My Mommy Guilt

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus! 

Everyone tells you that the third baby is easy. He will be flexible! He will sleep anywhere! He will be calm! He will go with the flow! With my youngest, that’s often true. The sweet little guy loves his siblings, and he never woke up every two hours like newborns often do. He was an easy delivery, and slept through the raucous noises of two toddler siblings from early on.

He is also a mama’s boy. I don’t mean a “sissy”; that’s not a way we have used or will ever use that term in our house. What I mean is that he prefers me above basically any other human. He needs me every few moments. He is happier when he’s close to me. This could be the result of several things. I wear him a lot, mostly because it’s easier and sometimes necessary for survival. He’s also the only baby that I never “went back to work” after. I started my part time jobs back, of course, but he hasn’t experienced me working away from him full time. I’m home with him usually, and we’ve built our life and schedule around me not being away from him more than a few hours. I’ve taken a weekend away from him, and while he was totally fine, he missed me pretty terribly.

Every time we have a day that I don’t see him much (which with our schedule is about once a week), we are bonkers for a few days. It throws off our entire schedule for way longer than just the day I’m gone. He’s extra clingy, sometimes wakes up in the night (when he’s past that stage) and follows me around the house. It’s cute, of course, until I need to get things done and I can’t put him down. And then the Mommy Guilt sets in.

Maybe I shouldn’t stay away from him that long. I should just not take that job. I shouldn’t go on that trip. What if I’m causing him stress? What if he ends up with scarring from my abandonment?!

Hold it right there. What am I doing?! Im not abandoning him! But that’s where the spiraling mommy guilt just led me to think. I’m just placing undue blame on myself. I’m getting worked up, worrying myself to death, and taking responsibility for things that I can’t control. I do my best, but extenuating circumstances are always a possibility. I can’t help when my big kids will need me more in that moment, or when his nap was too short for me to accomplish everything while he was asleep, or when I’m exhausted or sick or stressed. He knows that I love him. No matter the crazy days or time spent away from him,Che is well taken care of, and I’ve made it abundantly clear to him that he is my baby and I’d do anything for him, just like his brother and sister. 

All you do when you give yourself all that blame is distance yourself from the person you can be, the person you already are. Guilt doesn’t become us; there is no need for it. It wastes time and energy, both of which I could be spending on and with my family. My guilt has been ultimately taken care of, and my debts have been paid- even the ones I have yet to owe. Jesus came to release me from guilt and shame, and free me to be exactly who I’m created to be, no strings attached. It is His sacrifice and love that has allowed me to be a woman, wife, mother, friend and follow Him daily. He continues to free me from sin, and free me from myself when I just can’t get out of my own head.  This doesn’t mean I won’t continue to make mistakes, or feel a little guilty sometimes. But with the strength of my Jesus, His guidance and His love, I can get on past that mommy guilt and move on to being the best mommy I can, no matter the circumstances.

faith, music, My Big Jesus

Hear It Differently

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

Have you ever listened to a song you’ve heard a thousand times before (you know the ones: they’re on the radio, friends hum them while they work, and your kids even sing a phrase or two here and there), but one time when you’re listening, you think, “Wow! I’ve never paid attention to those words before! Has that always been the line?”

That happened to me this past Sunday. To be more specific, it happened to me several times. You see, I’m a worship leader. And the set that was planned for my service that morning was one full of trusty favorites. Several of them I’d been singing for years, one is a newer song I’ve sung at one service or another every week since Christmas, and the set also included one song I helped write (I wrote a bit about that here). But all of a sudden, these songs were falling on fresh ears. Thankfully, it wasn’t in a “forgot all the words” sort of way, but a “never thought about it that way before” sort of way.

For example, we sang Paul Baloche’s arrangement of the hymn “How Great Thou Art”. While it’s a hymn that I grew up singing, and I know almost every word by heart, for some reason, I heard the words anew. This verse: And when I think that God His Son not sparing/sent Him to die, I scarce can take it in/ that on the cross, my burden gladly bearing/He bled and died to take away my sin. I mean, that’s crazy! God sent His very Son to take our sins. Jesus gladly bore them for us on the cross, because he knew it would save us. Who wouldn’t sing about that?

Or in Hillsong’s “Oceans”, it was this part in the bridge: Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander/and my faith will be made stronger/in the presence of my Savior. Being in the presence of my Savior will be what strengthens my faith. I could have that reminder again and again, and it would convict me every time. Oh, you of little faith, enter into His presence, and that little faith will grow.

I have this same experience reading the Bible a lot. I’ll flip through pages, and read something I’ve read a hundred times before. But every time, I read it differently. Maybe it’s that my perspective has shifted, due to life circumstances. Maybe it’s that the Lord is showing me something new about a particular passage. Maybe it immediately leads me to think of a friend who needs to hear those exact words. Whatever it is, when I allow myself to be open to hearing something new, the Lord almost always gifts me that very thing: a new light shining through an old passage. Or through the music I think I know like the back of my hand: I notice a word or phrase that will change the entire song and how it speaks to my heart.

So here’s the hard part, the part it’s easy to talk about but not as easy to do. Get rid of those pre-conceived notions. Lose the filter through which you might be tempted to see. Open your eyes, your ears, your heart. Don’t be afraid of what you might hear; it might just be the thing that changes your mind.

faith, holidays, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, random thoughts

Getting My Groove Back

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

This isn’t just a cutsie post about how I took a little while after the holidays to find my regularly scheduled rhythm. This is a post about how mid-winter, when the holiday rush is done, but spring has yet to begin, there is a slump. I don’t just mean in the school year (though as a former teacher, I know that is REAL) or the weather (also stupidly cold) but just in life in general. Coming down off a joyous season of celebration, family, friends, and the Lord’s goodness, I’m experiencing sadness – a bit of a Christmas hangover, if you will. 

I was chatting with a friend a few days ago about how much more difficult it is to put Christmas decorations away than it is to get them out. You’d think it would be the same amount of work, and it might actually be. But it’s much harder to put them away because you’re just packing away sparkly, festive happiness. I mean, who wouldn’t be a little bummed about that? Have lots of parties, listen to happy music, see everything shining and twinkling, and then all of a sudden, pack all the joy away and return to the dead of winter? Ugh. Hubby ended up putting away the last of our decorations, with the help of his mom, one day while I was out. I had gotten halfway done, and just… couldn’t finish. Boxes and packing paper were strewn about, the tree was mostly devoid of ornaments but not totally. It just felt sad every time I thought about getting everything packed away, and I’ll be totally honest… I’d been using the still-lit tree as a nightlight.

So naturally, I’ve been dragging myself, slowly but surely, out of said slump. I’ve been trying to jazz myself up by making some fun plans for the kids and I to enjoy. I’m trying to not feel as though the winter has already peaked. 

And then yesterday morning, a Sunday, when I got out of bed – at the 9th snooze – there was the most perfect distinct g of snow on the ground. My daughter – from window to window, with the excitement of a kid on Christmas morning. I had forgotten what a few snow flurries will do for a child. The joy was tangible. It spread from person to person, until everyone in the house was so excited, we had to ask whether church was canceled, in case we could go outside to play. The contagious excitement and healing laughter jerked me right out of my emotional recession and into a renewed inflation of joy.  

 What if the joy of the Lord could spread like that? Just a little, from person to person to person… brightening her day here and calming his fears there. What if you let the little things fill you up with unspeakable joy that others could witness in your very countenance? Let the childlike faith overcome you and your post-holiday slump, and keep the joy in your everyday life, mundane tasks, and passive interactions with others. How many lives could you change? How might you entertain angels unawares? How often would you welcome the stranger that might just be Jesus? 

faith, mommyhood, random thoughts

One Word for 2016

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Last year, I chose a word (okay fine, a phrase) to carry me through the year, instead of making goals I wouldn’t achieve and resolutions I would quickly abandon. I chose the words “Embrace it”, and I do feel like that became a bit of a mantra to just love where I was. 

This year, I feel the Lord leading me towards the word “pray”. Obviously (or I think, anyway) I pray. I pray for my family, my job, myself, strangers, even. But I feel like this year, I’m being led do pray more… pray more often, pray continuously, pray over and about everything. Especially this: Pray first. Not just before making big decisions or facing trials. But pray first each day, pray first before letting the fear in, and pray first succumbing to anger. I will pray before speaking, whenever possible. I will pray for patience, guidance, and help. 

Now those all seem like lofty things to say I will do. It sounds like it’s going to take a lot of effort… But really, what it will take it just doing it. And asking the Lord to help me. Praying that He will find me faithful in this endeavor, and help me to seek Him daily and nightly, and in everything. I am excited to see my life change as I go through the process of seeking Him and finding that He will surely meet me where I am. 

Here’s to 2016, and not a resolution to change on my own, but a call for Him to change me instead. 

faith, holidays, home, mommyhood, random thoughts

Slow Down.

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Y’all. Time is flying. Weather is cooling, decorations are twinkling, and the days go by so quickly! That could have a little bit to do with the fact that the sun is only up for ten hours, but eh… who is paying attention to that?

This season of waiting, of already and not yet has even more meaning this year. Not only are we celebrating the coming of Christ as a helpless babe, but we are also celebrating Christmas… a first christmas for D, a second for J (and likely his first in memory) and a fourth for EK (and she is all about the traditions since she remembers some things from last year). 

We also have parties, church services and gigs to plan for. This is all in addition to leaving town all of next weekend, and leaving the kids with my parents. Hubby’s cousin is getting married, and I am turning 30. It just seemed like the right time. But what will we be missing when we go?

EK remembers our advent calendar each day, and understands when we tell her something special is happening. For instance, tomorrow we have breakfast with Santa with Hubby’s family, followed by Disney on Ice with some dear friends. It makes for a busy day, but a wonderful time  for our kids. I am just as excited as they are! 

But there is some trepidation there. With our littles, it’s proven to be hard to get anywhere, much less on time. It’s hard to pack everything we need, feed everyone on time, and let everyone get their rest when they need it. I know this is a season, and a short one in the grand scheme, but I am lost in the details. 

I am struggling to not lose sight of the important things, as I cross off my to-do list, see my gift-buying list get shorter, and attend more events than I ever thought possible. How did I get so busy? Didn’t I decide to stay home so that life could be more simple? It just seems more hectic as we get closer to Christmas. 

I know I’m not the only one feeling this way… I can’t be. Others have full plates or young children or both. All parents balance their work and home lives, and try to make Christmas magical for the children. But as life gets crazier, I find myself pining for morning pajama dance parties, pb&j lunches and movie-watching evenings. I just want to relax and read Christmas stories with my family, and there doesn’t seem to be time. 

So here, in the eleventh hour, I choose to slow down. I’m not adding anything else to my full calendar, or looking for any other happenings. I want to watch Christmas movies more evenings than not. I want to drink hot chocolate. I want to drive around our neighborhood, looking for lights. I’ll unplug, bake cookies, take naps, and read those Christmas books over and over. My kids will love it, because they love slow time with us. They’re not begging to travel or go to events. They’re not asking for fancy toys and huge presents (yet, anyway). I will slow down and enjoy this magical time of twinkly lights, sugary treats, family and friends, and the baby Jesus’ birth. We all need it. We all need love and grace and hope that even in a busy, and sometimes scary world, there are good things. 

faith, mommyhood, My Big Jesus

I want to be like Nanny and Bump Bump.

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This post also appeared on My Big Jesus!

This weekend, Hubby and I went to a family reunion of sorts. Many of his extended family members came in from all over to get together for the first time in several years, to catch up, meet new additions, and talk about family history. Hubby’s great-grandparents were the first generation, and the subsequent four generations were the ones together this weekend.

There were four generations of people talking (or learning) about Hubby’s great-grandparents,  Nanny and Bump Bump. Their children (our grandparents generation) told stories from their childhood about growing up in small town, North Carolina, saying things like “We still had horses and buggies.” and “Our phone number was only two digits.” When asked how they were taught as children about morals, ethics and faith, they all responded with the most amazing answer I could’ve imagined.

Nanny and Bump Bump's home
Nanny and Bump Bump’s home
They said they didn’t always have meaningful dinner conversations about such things, or learn lessons from being told what to do. They learned by watching their parents live with honesty, hard work, and kindness every single day. They watched their parents visit the bereaved, bring soup to the sick, and feed and clothe the poor. They saw coworkers and employees treated with respect, and strangers and friends alike welcomed into their home.

What better way to truly see how Jesus lived than to personally know someone who subscribes to His lifestyle? To be parents who truly embody love, kindness, hard work, and respect is the best way for our children to grow up appreciating and living out those very qualities. The idea that children learn more by watching than listening has been proven again and again, and especially to me now that I’m a parent.

I can tell that my children watch me closely every time I hear them grunt as they stoop to pick something up, or use my tone of voice when they tell each other what to do. It’s humbling to hear my “mom voice” come out of my daughter’s mouth with a little more force than I would’ve thought I used. I was convicted as I listened to Hubby’s grandmother lovingly talk about how amazing her parents were and how she remembered their good deeds and kind words.

Good deeds.

Kind words.

I can do that. One step at a time, one prayer at a time, I can do good deeds, speak kind words, and be an example for my children, and their children, and their children…

faith, mommyhood, random thoughts, women

I Sweat the Small Stuff.

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I think I’ve written about this before. In any case, this (insert the title here) has always been true for me. Detail-oriented, follow-through-with-everything Whitney has stressed over little things her entire life. I know some of you others feel that way, too. Which is why this particular situation and my resulting feelings might be for you, too.

Sometimes, I think the Lord speaks to you through the most random people.

Like the other day, someone commented on my post about our “terrible, horrible, no good, very bad evening“. She basically said this: we can handle big things like we’re ninjas (I loved that!), but when it comes to a pile up of small things, we may just go insane.

Too right she is.

When something big happens, something really important or truly difficult, I ninja up, call upon my people to help or pray, roll up my sleeves and get through it. But if a hundred little tiny things go wrong during a regular old day, when I can’t pinpoint the problem or put my finger on the exact thing that’s frustrating me, I start to go bonkers. I mean it. Bonkers. I want to fly off the handle. Sometimes I do. But who does that benefit? No one. Not me, certainly. Not my kids, who didn’t really do anything besides act their ages. Not Hubby, who is as patient with and kind to me as any human alive could be.

When I read her comment, it was like I got a tap on the shoulder: Hey, she’s talking about YOU. I’ve typically been cool under pressure, and able to handle a lot of stress when it’s put on my shoulders. But BOY do I ever sweat the small stuff. And as a mom, that’s the biggest recurring piece of advice I hear… Don’t sweat the small stuff. Enjoy the little moments. You’ll miss this. Don’t worry about the accidents and messes. Well, that’s all well and fine to say, and for me to nod and smile about. But when he spills the third meal on the floor I just cleaned, add some pee-pee in her panties, hear from the babysitter who’s cancelling and ruining my date night, and then I can’t even give my kids a bath without the entire bathroom (and myself) being soaked? I’m done. I AM DONE.

Any one of those things is a little thing. It falls into the category of “small stuff”. I’m sure I’d think several of those things are funny in a few days when they haven’t happened in a while. But altogether, piled on in the same day, it overwhelms me in a way I can’t accurately describe. I’m immediately ready to throw in the urine-covered towel, and tell Hubby I’m going on date night alone. I’d like to say that my first response is to call for help, to lean on the One who is always ready to hear my cry and give me exactly what I need. But how often is He my last resort? I call on Him for big things, for important things, for scary things. But for the little stuff? Nah – I think I can handle it myself.

Well, I can’t. I need peace. I need rest. I need help. I need love to flow out of me. I can only find those things in one place: the arms of Jesus. And there’s good news! He’s ready and waiting to accept me with open arms, and give me what I need.

faith, home, random thoughts, women

Jesus and Coffee – a Saturday Morning Talk

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I’ve seen a few posts from different bloggers about “If we were having coffee” and “Coffee and Jesus” and “Weekend Coffee Date”. I’d like to have my own take on it, and combine some of the styles and things I’ve read.

  
If we were having coffee this morning, sitting on my (new!) couch, looking at a gorgeous morning out our big windows, we might be watching my kids run circles around us. Our coffee might need to be reheated once or twice, because I often break for diaper changes, snacks, help with starting a puzzle, or (honesty, here) to go to the bathroom. My coffee would be half-caff, with some cream, and a little bit of sweetness. What would yours be?

If we were having coffee, I would want you to ask me challenging questions. I like that. I might not seem to, especially what it’s hard for me to answer. But I want you to ask anyway. It’s good for me. Really.

I want to tell you all about what the Lord is doing in my life. I want to tell you how I feel like I’m in a good place, how I’m super thankful for everything I have. I also want to tell you that sometimes my hormones and stress get the best of me, and I break down. I want to tell you about how I have hard times, how I get angry or sad, and how that’s okay. I want to tell you all about how I deal with those feelings.

I want to ask you the hard questions, too. I want to know what’s the best thing in your life right now, and what’s hard about your life, too. I want to know all about your job, your children, your home life, your friends. I want to know your dreams and goals, short term and long term. I want to connect with you, to speak life and truth to you, and to pray for you.

If we were together this morning, in my home, getting to know each other, I would be happy to make a new friend. I’d be excited to build a relationship with you.

faith, holidays, random thoughts

Sunday is coming. 

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This weekend, in addition to the obvious choice of being at an Easter Sunday church service, I was also a part of a good Friday service. Y’all, this is my favorite service of the liturgical year. 

As the pastor pointed out while we were chatting after the service, it’s all about doing Good Friday with correct theology. It’s not all about me and woe is me and my burdens that I’m bringing to the table. It’s about Jesus, his suffering and sacrifice, and his enduring the wrath of the Father instead of me. But it’s also about Sunday – the glorious day of His rising up from the grave and becoming not only whole, but holy all over again. His reuniting with us and with the Father, and that in this act, he has forever united the Father with us. 

What better news could we have than this? What better reason for me to rise with the sun tomorrow, and worship the One who made my life shame-free? Jesus is risen! The veil is torn! He has made a way, a perfect way, a way for me and for the world!

faith, health and fitness, mommyhood, My Big Jesus, pregnancy, Run Away.

A Time Out for Mommy

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My lungs are burning, I thought.  Whether from cold or effort I don’t know. 

That was the first real thought of what might have been a hundred during my first mile.

It’s been too long since my last run… especially since I’m pushing this double stroller.

Why didn’t I pack tissues?! There was room in the stroller for goodness sake!

If my fingertips are this numb, how are my kids doing? Why didn’t I make them wear gloves? Worst mom ever!

Gosh, I have to pee. I know. Pregnant with my third kid and I have to pee. Big surprise.

How many times is EK gonna drop that blanket? I’m never going to make it for three miles if I’m stopping every ten feet.

This is just a sampling of how my mind rambles while I’m running. It’s extremely silly sometimes, how my mind will come up with anything to think about besides the work it’s doing. And the truth was that even though it had been awhile since my last run, I wasn’t even working that hard. What was hard was the cold, my runny nose, and the fact that I always have to go to the bathroom.

But I needed the time out. Time outdoors. Time out in the sunshine (which has been hit or miss these days). Time out for my kiddos – not like a punishment, but a total removal from their current situation (sitting inside, toddling along after me, asking to be picked up). Time out of my normal laundry-dishes-picking-up routine. Time out from my “feed the kids, change a diaper, clean, repeat” routine. A mama can only put together 2732 puzzles before she needs a time out.

And y’all, when I tell you I need a time out, I’m serious. I get frustrated easily. Call it hormones, call it a generational curse, call it whatever you want. But I do. I work on it all day, every day. I pray about it. I have others pray with me about it. But I’m human, and I lose patience and lose resolve. So when I need to get rid of some frustration, I like going on a run. Winter is the worst, because my time out can’t happen if it’s below about 45 degrees (yes, I’m a weenie and I hate the cold). But when it’s 45 or above, my double jogging stroller is my best friend, who understands my venting and my struggles. Okay, fine. “Understands” is a stretch, but you get the idea. At least the stroller doesn’t struggle back.

Sometimes, I’m in need of more than just a run. I’m in need of a run to Jesus. I pray harder every mile. I pray for myself, I pray for my kids, my Hubby, my friends, my family. I pray for grace as a mama. I pray for patience and a clean heart. I pray that the 25 minute nap that J got in the stroller will last him till bedtime. I pray that I won’t collapse going up the last hill before I’m home. I pray because I need Jesus so much. I know that he’s the only one who truly understands, and can cleanse me and mold me into a more perfect woman in his sight.