Genuine

It’s been a while since I wrote a blog post.  Frankly, it’s never my turn to be on the computer!

Well, it’s true the computer is in high demand around here.  But it’s still mine so I can cut in line anytime I want. 

I like writing because it’s a good way for me to process my thoughts on stuff.  But the thing that has made me stay away from blogging and social media more and more is the face that it all feels fake.  I just read an article about the cover of a magazine that has Duchess Kate on it. However, it’s not her. It’s fake.   What’s the point of that?

I don’t want to write to look like a good mom or have people compliment me or make my life look way more perfect and beautiful than it really is.  There’s that temptation to write and wait to see who likes it or commented on it. 

It’s also tempting to show only the good pictures and do special outings just for the photo ops and blog fodder. 

And that’s not what I want to do.  In my writing, and social media and real life I want to be genuine.  Just the real me.  Good days, bad days.  Happy things, sad things.  Fun things, difficult things.  Bad hair days and thrift store clothes.

Whatever it is, I want to be real.  I’m so tired of reading blogs and articles and facebook posts and wondering if it’s real. 

And things will have to change a little.  Although having teenage and middle school kids could provide such amazing writing opportunity, it’s not the same as writing about a temper tantrum when they were two.  They need some privacy.  After all, there is such a thing as being TOO real!

Righting the Wrongs of the World

There are so many things that are wrong in the world:  war, sickness, starvation, poverty.  There are things that are wrong closer to home like divorce, depression, unemployment and the economy.  Sometimes it doesn’t seem worth it to keep bringing babies into this stinky, fallen world.

I know someone who was just days away from having her first baby when she found out she might be losing her job.  What horrible timing!  The stress of worrying about your job and income and bills could easily steal all the joy and expectancy of having a baby.

I didn’t realize that I was wrong until my own daughter had her birthday yesterday.  Annie turned 7. My joyful, carefree little girl.  No matter how my day was or what’s going on in my world, when I hear her laugh or sing or chatter those other things just melt away.

Don’t you think it’s true?  Babies can right the wrongs of the world.

No matter what I am facing in life, when I looked into the eyes of my baby it didn’t matter.   When I look at my children I can see the bright side.  I can fight to do better.  I can remember what my true priorities are. 

Maybe it’s because babies are such a miraculous reminder of God’s grace they can’t help but give us hope.  Hope for something better, hope for the future, and hope for Christ. 

I know it’s a gross overstatement that babies can right all the wrongs in the world.  I mean babies can’t actually cure cancer or stop war.  They may not be able to right all the wrongs in the world, but MY babies can right all the wrongs in MY world. 

And point me in the right direction, towards hope.

Relentless

Shoot. I did it again. I won the stinkin’ lottery. I don’t even know why I entered. Or why I pay to be tortured.

Honestly, I can’t remember the last time I ran. Or where my running shoes are.

I don’t even like running. For real. Most days when I am out there I wonder what on earth I am doing. It hurts. It’s hard work. It can get boring. It is either blazing hot or wicked cold. Sometimes it’s raining and windy. Many days it feels like torture.

The thing is though that there are also days that are out of this world good. Days where the sun is shining and the breeze is blowing. Days where running is effortless and I feel like I could run for miles.

There are days when I accomplish something that I never thought I could do and I know I’m hooked. And it’s that feeling, as rare as it may be among tough days, that makes running relentless.

So when those half marathon lottery deadlines loom, I can’t keep myself from signing up. I can even hope I won’t get in. But once I start training and am swept into that love/hate relationship of pain and glory I know I’m in the right place.

Running is relentless. It keeps chasing me. Even though at times I loathe it, ignore it or scoff at it. I can’t walk away. Somewhere out on the trail it became part of me. When I'm not running, I know I should be. And deep down, I want to be.

These past few months when I’ve been away from running, I’ve been busy. I started working. We’ve had a bazillion basketball games and kids activities. When I get home from work I have a bunch of laundry waiting for me.

I haven’t had time to read. I haven’t had the desire to write. And every time I go through a period of indifference or stubbornness, God reminds me He is relentless too.

He’s relentless in His love. God will never let go. When I don’t care, he does. When I turn my back, He’s still there with open arms. When I'm not looking to him I know I should be. And deep down I want to be.

He’ll never give up on me. So if we’re messed up, lonely, scared, or broken; His love never fails. It never quits. We all have a place in our hearts that longs for Him.

There’s no lottery or fee for the privilege of that relentless love.

Better With Age, Part Two

I had been writing a post about Grant turning thirteen in my head this week, patting myself on the back for not worrying about the teenage years.  Then I received some pictures of my nieces and daughters in the mail from my aunt. 

All of a sudden my perspective changed a bit.  These were taken just a few short years ago…

and this..

And now this?

 

Can you imagine what we will be dealing with in a few short years?  I know.  It’s a little terrifying.  I’m kind of thinking about locking the doors and getting out the burlap sack dresses.  Who knows what Mike is thinking! 

But if they transform as much in the next few years as they did in the last few, we’re going to have a swarm of teenage boys outside our house. 

Better With Age

They say wine gets better with age.  I guess some cheese is too.  It is obviously  not true of the kind of great value cheese I buy because when that ages it just turns green. 

But age can bring benefits.  I’m glad I’m not the person I was at 16, 26 or even 34!  I hope that God continues to grow and change me into someone that reflects His glory.

Time keeps rolling on.  I have more gray hairs.  And my kids keep having birthdays.  This time our firstborn hit a big milestone.  Thirteen.

How does this…

turn into this…

in the blink of an eye?

I just couldn’t imagine that the sweet baby we loved so much would become such an amazing person.

I’m still important to him because he relies on me for food 24/7 .  He still needs to eat every two hours just like when he was a baby.  And he still needs me to drive him places.

But, I am no longer at the center of his world. I never thought the day would come.

Instead of planning a birthday party like I used to with fear and trepidation of keeping a bunch of little boys occupied, Mike took him and his friends out for pizza. I never even saw them.

He has a phone. He has a life.

Some people tell me I should worry about thirteen and beyond.  I’m so thankful for the time we’ve had and the time to come. Each stage has it’s joys and struggles and I intend to make the enjoy every minute.  In a few years, I’ll be even further out of the center of his world.  And that’s ok because he’ll always be in the center of my heart.

Happy Birthday Bud!