Embrace the Grace

Art work by Ivy Grace

My original title for this piece was “Embrace the Chaos,” but I think this is the wrong idea. Last week, chaos came in the form of noses bleeds, a flushed iPhone, and one bag with wallet left in a hospital restroom! I am trying to model stability and set a good example for my little humans. Not only is it exhausting but I often feel like I am missing the mark. I don’t know where my idea that family life is supposed to run smoothly comes from, but it’s there in the back of my mind, laughing at me. 

Then in my morning verses I find, “And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work.” (2 Corinthians 9:8) Something inside me says, “Ahhh.” I feel a little more relaxed. While I know that I am not sufficient in all things myself, God gives me the grace to do what I need to do. His grace, if I accept it, will keep me calm. My bag, by the way, was safely returned to us and my phone seems to be working. (Praise God!)

Although the kids will bonk heads and get nose bleeds (Albert is okay, bless him) and I will continue to lose things, we will make it through the day. Life will continue to throw some chaos my way, but I don’t have to let it wreck me. I can stand strong in the grace of God. It is very reassuring to this mama to know that the weight of my role doesn’t rest solely on my shoulders.

 So, if your day turns unexpectedly or your having a rough time, try to embrace the grace. That is my prayer today. Dear Lord, please help me to embrace your loving grace. Amen.

 

Balancing Act

We are going away tomorrow. It will be our first family vacation. (British translation: holiday.) We are spending one day at Stonehenge then heading to the south coast in Devon to stay in a camper by the beach. (British translation: caravan.) I’m excited to see how our little Ivy will react to the ocean. I’m excited for it to be just the three of us with time to play and relax. I need a break from our routine. It’s a good routine. I just need to shake things up a bit. It has been 10 days since my last post. Time to write is hard for me to find. Where does time go? It’s a stupid question, but one I always ask. I have recently officially left my job to be a full-time mom, part-time Avon lady, and house wife. I feel very blessed to be able to leave my work. I am grateful to my husband. That being said, I have never been busier. I simply don’t know what I did before. Time is the great commodity. You can have all the money in the world, but if you don’t have (or take) the time to live, who cares? What good is it?

I feel pressure to manage my time better. I have spent this week getting my chores and errands done before leaving town. The house needed a good clean. It’s always nice to come home to a neat place when you have been away. It really dawned on me that I am “the Mom” as I rushed around to get things packed and ready. It feels like it’s all down to me to make things happen. My husband helps for sure, but he has been really busy with work. (Thank God!) I feel over whelmed at times. This morning as I felt the panic of my to do list, I stopped and prayed. It was like a weight was lifted. I still had a lot to do but my attitude changed. I also played and laughed with Ivy. She is sleeping soundly at the moment. I should be taking advantage and closing my eyes. I’m too wound up to sleep. Plus it is in these little pockets of time that I get to create (or vent.)  I love every minute with my sweet baby even when she is getting on my nerves. However, time to recharge is vital to me. My writing is important to me though I haven’t behaved as if it is. I need to carve out some creative time. I need to prioritize. Perhaps this diary-like rant is one big cry out to God for help. (Lord, Jesus, please here my prayer. Please help me to put you first and everything else will fall into place. Thank you. Amen.)

My goal and dream this week is to enjoy my husband and daughter but to also find some time to write. I really want Ivy to grow up watching us following our dreams and pursuing our passions. It’s time to work on my book again and finish it. Or at least see what story is there. If any. (Big sigh.) I will somewhat unplug while away. I wish you all well out there in the blogosphere. I shall return with fresh posts and energy I hope. I must close by asking you, dear readers. How do you cope? Do you manage your time well? Please click on the comment button above and spill your guts. I need all the advice I can get.

 

Mommy Guilt

So far, big chunks of my parenting time involves sitting in the dark trying to get my little lamb to sleep. Even as I write this post, she is behind me snoring. (Yet I cannot turn my brain off.) Before Ivy, I said that I would never let our little one sleep in our bed. Our room was going to be our sacred love space. Ha! Then you bring home this tiny, red, adorable, eating, pooping creature and your heart swells. You want this little person with you always. And you want her to thrive. It’s amazing to be needed this much. It’s scary. Did I mention that it is scary? I’m responsible for her! That is where the guilt comes in, wild sleepless mommy guilt. Am I doing this right? Will I scar her for life? Will she still be sleeping with us when she is 10? Please God, protect her from my mistakes. Because I will make a lot of them and for that reason I feel bad.

I feel the pang of guilt for ridiculous things sometimes. Things like taking a shower or a few minutes to myself just don’t feel the same. I’m always thinking of my daughter. I feel guilty for running off to take my Zumba class. I know it’s irrational. I know I need to recharge my batteries. I know Ivy needs bonding time with her dad. It just feels strange to leave her. I feel guilty because I have changed. I used to be so on top of everything. Now I am forgetful. I still think I can do it all, but I can’t. Sometimes you just can’t go out or volunteer or do some of the things you used to do. I don’t always say no when I should. I hate letting people down, another source of guilt. Add in lack of sleep and I easily spread myself too thin. Then I get grumpy. Then I feel bad… I’m sure you see where this is going. Is there no end to mommy guilt?

Even before my daughter was born I struggled with guilt. I would feel bad about mistakes or saying the wrong thing for days. If I unintentionally hurt someone forget about it! I was and still can be wrecked over it. In balance, these feelings aren’t all bad.  Healthy guilt keeps my conscience in check. Guilt on overload keeps me bogged down. I pray. I ask God to help me know the difference between conviction and condemnation. Old mishaps come back to haunt and I feel the pangs of guilt yet again. This is a yoke of bondage that I was not meant to carry. “For from His fullness we have all received, grace upon grace.” John 1:16 (ESV) I love grace. It is God’s unmerited favor. Grace lifts my burden of guilt. I know that I am forgiven. Jesus’ ultimate sacrifice of love has set me free. In the end, I only want the absolute best for my baby girl. All I can do is offer up my efforts and ask God to bless them.

Do you suffer from “the guilt”? Can any mamas out there relate? Please click on the comment button above and share. Thank you.

Magic Spit and Other Motherhood Truths

I like to think that I am still myself since becoming a mother; myself with enhancements. Instincts kick in when all else fails. Necessity breeds new skills. My whole being has become attuned with this new little person. For instance, I can tell a pain cry from a hunger cry from a scared cry from an I-just-want-you-to-look-at me-cry.  I can down a whole bottle of water in less than a minute. (Nursing makes you thirsty.) I can clean my daughter’s face with a bit of spit and my thumb. This is a reflex by the way if you don’t have a wet wipe on hand. I can sleep sitting up. I can function on four hours of broken sleep. I can multitask almost any chore while nursing Ivy especially with my handy baby carrier or sling. I can entertain my little one while going to the bathroom. (Sorry folks. Motherhood isn’t always polite.) I can handle all of the bodily functions of my baby without being sick or gagging. (Okay, I gagged once, but that was a really bad diaper in the early days.) Those who know my squeamish former self will be impressed.

Self care is still important, but the aim has changed. I care less about the size of my jeans and more about longevity.  Her health and well-being depends on mine and my husband’s. Our aches and pains take a backseat as her needs are naturally more important. I can let a full fifteen minutes pass by just watching her breath and stretch and smile in her sleep. (The noises thrill me. Babies make the best noises.) I can spot a missing sock like an expert marksman. I can catch a thrown sippy cup with quick reflex. I can recite silly songs and nursery rhymes on demand from some long forgotten place in my mind. I make funny sounds and foolish faces just to get Ivy to giggle. I am the court jester, singer, teacher, nurse, cook and coach to name a few. Though I have lost some abilities in motherhood (like remembering what my husband said five minutes ago) what I have gained is worth so much more.

I’m no super human. At times it feels like I need to be. I am so grateful to have my husband. Watching him be a dad is another level of joy. My heart has grown. The absolute pleasure and pain that comes with being a parent is indescribable. I want so much for her to be well and happy. I realize more clearly how one moment or one mistake can change life completely. I pray for help, guidance, and protection throughout the day. I ask God to make me the mother I need to be for this little one. Whatever I can or can’t do as a parent, my strength comes from Him. I hold Ivy close and know that the love I feel is otherworldly. I hold her in my arms and think this is how God sees each one of us; His child so dearly cared for. Even with all the love I feel for Ivy, it pales in comparison to the love God has for us.

Mommas, parents, caregivers, have I left anything out? Click on the comment button above and please, share your experiences.

Breakfast with Ivy Grace

Release

Every once in a while a nothingness will take over me; a void.

I drown in the oceans of time passed by. The weight of life under-lived presses down on me. I struggle to breathe. I feel the heat of choices made. Regret. Reconsider. Time is a funny thing. Relived in vivid color in the mind. You can’t go back to what no longer exists. It’s a knot in the stomach. Words better left unsaid. Why did I do that? Why did I go?  If I dive into these moments it will cripple me. I peek over the edge, then lean back again.

I should have is the most terrifying phrase invented.

It echoes around my brain like a taunt, a rant.  A wish for moments I let pass. One small step can change a life course; send you orbiting in an unknown direction.  I close my eyes and open them again. I get out of bed and tiptoe to the bathroom. I turn on the light. I feel a little better. The darkness makes it all cave in on me. I sit on the edge of the tub. I turn on the fan to cool my face. Cleansing tears roll down; a release.

Maybe I did all I could, what I thought best.

I wrap these words around me. I close my eyes to pray. I recount my heartache to the One who knows me. I relive the hurt to lay it at His feet. I ask for grace for things long forgiven. He reminds to receive. The love floods in, His precious love for me. I accept the gift of today. The promise of more moments to cherish, more chances to give. I rise to rest and claim my peace.

For My Mother, Diana, on her Birthday

For you, Mom, on your birthday.

I know you would rather we forget. But I want to celebrate you and all that you have done.

When I think about you, Mom, I think of all that you have given.

You care and give and care and give for others over and over again.

You always put your family first. Those you love feel it true.

Your patients are much more than just a job, but lives you have touched.

You always seem to put yourself last. Thank you for your sacrificial love.

As I watch Ivy play in her toy box, I realize all that I never really knew about you, Mom.

I never knew about all the tears and smiles and sighs and laughter.

Or all the late nights you watched me sleep or worried about a cold or held me with a

piercing earache; all the times you stopped and prayed for me.

I never really knew about all the meals and baths and scraped knees kissed.

I see you clearly now, Mom, and how much it cost you to care for us;

how we three are blessed to have you.

Only now as I care for my own little one do I really see and feel your love.

Thank you is not enough. I love you more than ever, Diana, my mother, on your birthday.

Hit Refresh

Mornings. Ironically, I love them. Even after a night of broken sleep, there is something sacred about the early hours. It is quiet and still. It is as if we three are the only ones on earth. Promise. Each day is a blank notebook full of untouched pages where anything can happen. We get a built-in do-over every twenty-four hours. It is a daily miracle. When the baby and I have had a rough night of waking, crying (yes, we both cry sometimes), teething, and not settling, I feel relief when a new day comes. Though I am tired (bone tired) I know we get a chance to try again. There are some mornings when my body gives out and I feel like I can’t move. But then the baby cocks her head to the side. She smiles knowingly at me with all the love and innocent joy in her heart. Miraculously, I move. We cuddle. I nurse her. My husband changes her to give me a break. I pray. We eat breakfast. I drink coffee. I reflect.

Lamentations 3:22-24 (ESV) “The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. ‘The Lord is my portion,’ says my soul, ‘Therefore I will hope in Him.'”

Oh, I am grateful for new mercies! A giant eraser comes and wipes away all the mistakes and frustrations from yesterday. Mornings mean possibility. Hope. And the promise of a couple of naps in my future. Breakfast doesn’t hurt either. One of my motivations for rising is food. I love breakfast. Fuel for the day. You can eat savory or sweet. These days I rely on oatmeal and coffee to energize me.

Coffee. I have had an ongoing love affair with the drink ever since my first sip of espresso at age fourteen. Coffee tastes best in the morning. It is warm and rich and comforting. As a new mom, coffee is survival. I know this season with my daughter will soon change and my old friend sleep will return to me. (Parents of toddlers, please, don’t laugh too loudly. Please, let me keep my dream.) I will treasure these morning moments when they are gone.

Mornings show God’s character; a willingness to give us chance after chance to start anew. If we need to make a change or different choice, everyday you wake is an opportunity. I realize some things can’t be changed, however, we can decide how we are going to react and the attitude we will take. I love the start of each day for all these reasons.

How about you? Are you a morning person? Click the comment button above and share.

“Perfect Love Casts Out Fear”

Confession time: It has been my wish to start a blog since December. I am a big fat scaredy-cat! Ever since I was able to write, I wrote. I became a writer of short stories, family stories, journal entries, skits, performance pieces, poems, lists, brainstorms, short film, and character sketches. One of my life dreams is to write a book.  As I am a new momma (another life dream come true), I am in desperate need of creative outlet. And as you might have guessed, I don’t get much sleep. Lying in bed waiting for the next cry or rocking and nursing my little one at 3 am gives me ample time for ideas. I also confess that I rarely share my scribbles with anyone. This is silly.

Me and my little lamb

1 John 4:18a says, “There is no fear in love, but perfect love casts out fear…” So, here I go walking in love to do the thing that frightens me. That’s where you come in.  I need your participation and esteemed feedback. Bare with me as I find my writing feet and the courage to share my work.  I end this beginning by asking you, is there something you’ve always wanted to do? Is there something you are afraid to do even though it is your heart’s desire? Please let me know I’m not alone and share in the comments above.