This is a poem that I wrote and included in Adopted and Restored. Sometimes, a poem just pulls you down to the essentials of an issue.
I love being a mother.
It is my pride,
My point in the universe.
The babies grown up to be
Men and women
Without me.
The baby given away,
The babies died a-borning
Grown up without me
Or gone ahead without me.
They have found their life in me
And gone on.
Whether before birth,
At birth,
Or in grown-up-hood,
They don't need me anymore;
And I am left behind
To wonder
What to do next.
But, they have made me
More than I have made them.
Nothing lit up death
More than baby-life.
Nothing brought me lower
Than being scolded by my children.
The paradox of utter self-absorption in pregnancy
To give birth
And then
Utter self-sacrifice in growing up babies
Throws me back,
Stunned.
Being a mother
Has made me
What I am
Without children.
Monday, February 27, 2017
Friday, February 17, 2017
Mom, Marriage and Valentine's Day
How do you have a romantic time on Valentine's Day when you have a
crowd of kids who need to go places, you're packing to move, and your
daughter's in-laws are coming for dinner? You do something different,
that's how.
Today is Friday. Sunday is Valentine's Day, but my daughter wanted her in-laws to come to see our house before we moved out of it, so she asked if we could have a couples dinner on the day. I love my daughter, so I said yes. I forgot I love my husband, too. So, after we we started planning the couples day, I thought about my dear husband.
"How about we go out on Friday night and go to the Habitat Store to look for things for the new house before dinner?" He very nicely said yes.
So, today is Friday. Our house is so big, we have cleaning day because I'm more of a project person than a maintenance person. This is it. However, I stayed in bed and finished reading a Ted Dekker book my college daughter took out of the library before she went back to school. I told Steve to go away when he started creeping towards my side of the bed. I finished the book, got up around 9:45, ate a bowl of cereal while the kids watched Phineas and Ferb, and gave them their marching orders. Then, I started cleaning my bathroom. Cleaning bathrooms are the bane of my existence. They need so much cleaning! And you're not usually in them for long unless you are in a hurry to get somewhere else. But, since I spent last cleaning day packing, I had to do the bathroom.
As I was cleaning the bathroom in my nightgown, I realized that I didn't want to smell like this when I went on my Valentine's date this evening, so I planned to clean my personal corners after I did the bathroom. Which I did. However, we are moving and, since I'm the mom, I am trying to use up all the dribs and drabs of cleaning materials around the house. While cleaning my corners, I realized that I had used some kids body wash and I was going to smell like bubble gum for the rest of the day. How romantic. I got out of the tub, was drying myself off and found, to my horror, that my legs looked like a gorilla's. Back in the tub. Once going with the razor, I found that it had been even longer since I'd done my underarms and I thought I might have to take scissors to the hair in my armpits!
Does this sound familiar?
The fact is, this is life for people who are responsible for others' needs and wishes, maybe not for people who have only themselves to worry about. We are moms. This is our life. And we wouldn't want it any other way, would we? I'm down to six kids in school around our house and I already feel like there are holes in the family structure. But, the most important person in this whole deal is the one person I have hardly mentioned in this article: my husband.
At our wedding, the pastor exhorted us to keep our marriage first. That Steve shouldn't let work or sports or hobbies come before me and I shouldn't let kids or crafts or house or friends come before him. And that includes sex. Yes. The "S" word. It is the only thing that differentiates the marriage relationship from any other relationship. It results in an intimacy and vulnerability and even sacrifice that no other relationship on earth provides, not even twins. As evidenced in my story today, life demands so many unromantic things of us; what do I do to counteract that?
I will do what I planned: go on a date with my husband and put on my red silk nightshirt and my black lace panties for bed. And hope the kids go to bed early
Today is Friday. Sunday is Valentine's Day, but my daughter wanted her in-laws to come to see our house before we moved out of it, so she asked if we could have a couples dinner on the day. I love my daughter, so I said yes. I forgot I love my husband, too. So, after we we started planning the couples day, I thought about my dear husband.
"How about we go out on Friday night and go to the Habitat Store to look for things for the new house before dinner?" He very nicely said yes.
So, today is Friday. Our house is so big, we have cleaning day because I'm more of a project person than a maintenance person. This is it. However, I stayed in bed and finished reading a Ted Dekker book my college daughter took out of the library before she went back to school. I told Steve to go away when he started creeping towards my side of the bed. I finished the book, got up around 9:45, ate a bowl of cereal while the kids watched Phineas and Ferb, and gave them their marching orders. Then, I started cleaning my bathroom. Cleaning bathrooms are the bane of my existence. They need so much cleaning! And you're not usually in them for long unless you are in a hurry to get somewhere else. But, since I spent last cleaning day packing, I had to do the bathroom.
As I was cleaning the bathroom in my nightgown, I realized that I didn't want to smell like this when I went on my Valentine's date this evening, so I planned to clean my personal corners after I did the bathroom. Which I did. However, we are moving and, since I'm the mom, I am trying to use up all the dribs and drabs of cleaning materials around the house. While cleaning my corners, I realized that I had used some kids body wash and I was going to smell like bubble gum for the rest of the day. How romantic. I got out of the tub, was drying myself off and found, to my horror, that my legs looked like a gorilla's. Back in the tub. Once going with the razor, I found that it had been even longer since I'd done my underarms and I thought I might have to take scissors to the hair in my armpits!
Does this sound familiar?
The fact is, this is life for people who are responsible for others' needs and wishes, maybe not for people who have only themselves to worry about. We are moms. This is our life. And we wouldn't want it any other way, would we? I'm down to six kids in school around our house and I already feel like there are holes in the family structure. But, the most important person in this whole deal is the one person I have hardly mentioned in this article: my husband.
At our wedding, the pastor exhorted us to keep our marriage first. That Steve shouldn't let work or sports or hobbies come before me and I shouldn't let kids or crafts or house or friends come before him. And that includes sex. Yes. The "S" word. It is the only thing that differentiates the marriage relationship from any other relationship. It results in an intimacy and vulnerability and even sacrifice that no other relationship on earth provides, not even twins. As evidenced in my story today, life demands so many unromantic things of us; what do I do to counteract that?
I will do what I planned: go on a date with my husband and put on my red silk nightshirt and my black lace panties for bed. And hope the kids go to bed early
Thursday, February 9, 2017
My Homeschooling Life Verse
"For even the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to serve, and to give His life a ransom for many." Mark 10:45
In 2001, we had just moved to Wisconsin and my husband was officially home. I was at the end of my rope. I was homeschooling four small children, had a toddler, was pregnant, was doing all the housework, and my husband sat upstairs on his computer all day. And God kept talking to me about serving my family. I was okay with it, though I felt that there wasn't much left of me, that I was about wrung out and I didn't know how I could serve any more than I was. I knew that was what God wanted to talk to me about and I knew that the upcoming ladies' retreat was going to be about servanthood, so I said, "God, I get it, and I will deal with it at the retreat. Okay?" And He was okay with it.
So, I go to the retreat, and get my little gift packet that they always give you. In it was a funny little toy. It was a seesaw or teeter totter made from a wooden spool and a popsicle stick. It had Mark 10:45 on it. It made me sad.
Why? Because I love teeter totters. They were my favorite playground toy. I felt so strong jumping up and getting a good volley going with someone on the other side. But, of course, it is impossible to play on a teeter totter alone. And my most vivid memory of playground time is of being on a teeter totter and having the other person get bored and jump off, leaving me to crash to the ground. This didn't happen once. It happened over and over again.
But, why did they give us the picture of a teeter totter as the image of servanthood? Well, the point of servanthood is that we have to die to ourselves. We cannot press on and do what we want as a good servant; we have to give up what we want for the needs of the one we are serving. I had to die.
As the retreat ended, we were to write ourselves a letter that the speaker would send to us in two months on what we had learned or resolved from the retreat. I began to cry. I sobbed, shielding my face from the people around me, who were, fortunately, not paying attention to me. My paper got all wrinkly from my tears as I told God that I didn't want to serve that much, but I knew I had to. That I knew it would be hard and that it was not an option. But, I would do it. I would do it with Him.
And that was the point of the teeter totter. I can't serve alone. I can only do it with God on the other side. But, the most wonderful comfort is that, He will never jump off. He will never leave me. He will never allow me to crash painfully to the ground. I'll do what I can and when I run out of upward momentum, He'll give the next push. After all, He knows all about servanthood. He gave up His life in serving. I will probably not actually die from serving. But, I'm sure in good company as I give up my way, my time, my temper, my impatience to serve my family. So, God and I are in this servant thing together.
In 2001, we had just moved to Wisconsin and my husband was officially home. I was at the end of my rope. I was homeschooling four small children, had a toddler, was pregnant, was doing all the housework, and my husband sat upstairs on his computer all day. And God kept talking to me about serving my family. I was okay with it, though I felt that there wasn't much left of me, that I was about wrung out and I didn't know how I could serve any more than I was. I knew that was what God wanted to talk to me about and I knew that the upcoming ladies' retreat was going to be about servanthood, so I said, "God, I get it, and I will deal with it at the retreat. Okay?" And He was okay with it.
So, I go to the retreat, and get my little gift packet that they always give you. In it was a funny little toy. It was a seesaw or teeter totter made from a wooden spool and a popsicle stick. It had Mark 10:45 on it. It made me sad.
Why? Because I love teeter totters. They were my favorite playground toy. I felt so strong jumping up and getting a good volley going with someone on the other side. But, of course, it is impossible to play on a teeter totter alone. And my most vivid memory of playground time is of being on a teeter totter and having the other person get bored and jump off, leaving me to crash to the ground. This didn't happen once. It happened over and over again.
But, why did they give us the picture of a teeter totter as the image of servanthood? Well, the point of servanthood is that we have to die to ourselves. We cannot press on and do what we want as a good servant; we have to give up what we want for the needs of the one we are serving. I had to die.
As the retreat ended, we were to write ourselves a letter that the speaker would send to us in two months on what we had learned or resolved from the retreat. I began to cry. I sobbed, shielding my face from the people around me, who were, fortunately, not paying attention to me. My paper got all wrinkly from my tears as I told God that I didn't want to serve that much, but I knew I had to. That I knew it would be hard and that it was not an option. But, I would do it. I would do it with Him.
And that was the point of the teeter totter. I can't serve alone. I can only do it with God on the other side. But, the most wonderful comfort is that, He will never jump off. He will never leave me. He will never allow me to crash painfully to the ground. I'll do what I can and when I run out of upward momentum, He'll give the next push. After all, He knows all about servanthood. He gave up His life in serving. I will probably not actually die from serving. But, I'm sure in good company as I give up my way, my time, my temper, my impatience to serve my family. So, God and I are in this servant thing together.
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