These Walls {Thanks to Motherhood}

Today is the last day for the Thanks to Motherhood series, and I have to thank all of my guest posters. It has been an honor to host your words! Thanks to those whose posts were published and those whose weren’t. Thanks also to those who wrote and never submitted. (I wish you would have!) 

Thanks to motherhood…and thanks to my own mom, my guest bloggers, my friends, my readers, my family…

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These Walls

If these walls could talk, what would they say? About me? About my mothering? About my family? Our life?

I’m fairly certain these walls wouldn’t concern themselves with the petty stuff. No, these walls would know better.

My walls wouldn’t care whether my son sleeps with his pacifier until he is 12 months or four years old. Instead, they’d tell of bedtime stories and sing-alongs. Prayers and snuggles.

They wouldn’t report whether mama nurses her baby or gives him a bottle. Instead, they’d speak of the quiet, middle-of-the-night bonding between mother and infant.

They wouldn’t judge the decision to have the baby sleep in her own bed from the start or in the same room as her mama.

Or ponder whether the food on the table is organic or processed or even from the nearby drive-thru with golden arches (…ahem). Instead…they’d tell dinnertime tales of babies learning to say prayers and discovering corn-on-the-cob.

I think they’d skip the cloth or disposable diaper debate in order to tell the story of a baby who, upon being freed from the diaper, runs naked and carefree from room to room in giggles and squeals of delight.

And whether I homeschool these kiddos or send them to private school? Or public school? No, instead they’d tell stories of a mama teaching her children every single time the opportunity presents itself.

And when I lose my temper or jump to conclusions or choose lazy over love? These walls would tell of a mom and wife who apologizes and the family who readily forgives.

These walls of mine? They wouldn’t judge the decisions – our decisions – that, in the end, have no impact on the amount of love within these cramped walls.

I’d like to think these walls of ours would have an eternal perspective – not one based on the latest research or trend. And they’d see the whole picture – not just what we present to the outside world.

The point? No two families are the same, and there is no “right way” to do this thing.

When loving others is our primary goal, the only bad decision is the one made to impress those outside of these walls.

As a wise friend recently said, what happens within the walls of our own homes should be our focus. When that’s the case, your unique version of motherhood can truly honor the One who created the job in the first place.

So, love unconditionally, find something to be thankful for every day, ask for forgiveness when you blow it, and seek answers from your Creator not Google. Unless your friend’s two-year-old eats his brother’s poop and she asks you to Google the situation. In that case, definitely ask Google what to do next.

(What? Lorretta told us not to skip the poopy talk. And it happened, people. It happened. You’re jealous of my friends, aren’t you?)

Anyway…

Trust your mama-instincts, but openly seek advice from trusted friends when you need it. And at the end of this journey through motherhood, may your walls sing of the love that inhabited your home.

Because without love, it’s all for nothing. (1 Corinthians 13:1-3)

Happy Mother’s Day to all of you – those celebrating with your children and those celebrating with your mom and those wishing you could celebrate with your children and mom.

And happy Mother’s Day to my own mom, who passed on a love of reading and writing, continues to love me unconditionally, and sacrifices for me without hesitation.

I love you, Mom.

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So, tell me…how are you celebrating today? What did you think of the series? Would you like more guest series in the future? 

I’m a Writer

I am a writer.

I am.

Right?

This is the internal battle of most writers, I imagine.

The qualifications for claiming the title of writer are elusive.  It’s not like the titles engineer or teacher or nurse. Those are specific careers with certifications and tests to prove you are, in fact, qualified.

Writers can spring up in the most unlikely places.

So, I’m claiming it. I’m a writer.

Does it seem silly that someone who’s blogged for more than three years would have to claim such a thing? Maybe it is. But when you’re a writer the only tangible validation you get is being published. And besides that poem about the sky that I wrote in elementary school (that counts, right?), I’m not published.

Yet, I’m claiming it. Here’s why…

I write because I haven’t found any other way to fully express myself.

Writing is a passion I’ve had since elementary school when I made up stories and went to young authors conferences.

I believe words change lives. I know because they’ve changed mine.

I am a writer because stringing words into sentences and sentences into complete thoughts helps me discover truths that otherwise go undiscovered.

I’m linking up with a friend of mine today – a fellow writer (who actually publishes books).

All My Eggs? One Basket.

Happy Easter to you, my friends. I pray the day finds you enjoying life and all its beauty with the ones you love.

I have to say, the weeks leading up to this Easter have been a little heavier – more emotional – than I can ever remember in the past.

Yes, I gave something up for Lent for the first time in years. (Although last year, I tried. Did you read that about that?)

Yes, it was difficult.

But it was more than that.

This year, I had an awareness like never before of what was coming — an Easter celebration that I could either let pass by with a few colored eggs and some chocolate bunnies, or that I could fully embrace.

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And I’ve decided that all my eggs are in Jesus’s basket this year.

I’ve been quick to spring tears in complete gratitude over what Jesus did on that cross, and even quicker to snap at my family.

And why should it be any other way?

My ugly sin, the very thing Jesus came to save me from, has been a constant reminder of my complete lack of worthiness. I can’t try hard enough, people. I just can’t. I always snap.

Always.

So, this Easter, I’m celebrating the fact that the try-hard life isn’t what I’m called to anyway. I can’t work my way out of this one. I have to surrender.

And in this case, surrender is somehow all about freedom. Freedom to love with abandon. Freedom to mess up, say sorry, and start all over again.

And it’s beautiful.

As fair warning, over the upcoming weeks I may write a little more about my faith. If you’re uninterested, that’s OK. If it makes you uncomfortable, I understand. But there comes a time when a girl’s got to do what a girl’s got to do.

Maybe it’ll even be fun?

Happy Easter, friends. Go kiss somebunny you love ;)

 

Oh, and do tell…where are your eggs this Easter?

 

 

Remember {Five Minute Friday}

I’m joining Lisa Jo’s community today….she gives the prompt, we write for five mintutes then hit publish. No editing or second guessing.

This week?  Remember.

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Have you heard of mommy brain?

It’s this weird phenomenon that happens after you give birth. In a nutshell, it is the inability to remember anything that is not written down.

At first I thought I just needed to get used to being a mom and my memory would improve. I’d stop dropping the ball and things would stop slipping through the cracks.

Not so.

And especially not so when you add a second child.

A mom simply doesn’t have the space to store all the required information in her brain. Why? Because it becomes filled with other things.

Things like:

When did the baby eat last?

How high does the fever have to before I should call the doctor?

What meetings do I have today that I’ll have to reschedule if this turns out to be a real sickness?

Did she take her vitamin today?

How many cups of milk did he have today?

When did he poop last?

Did I remember to take the meat out of the freezer this morning?

Is it bath night?

Should she be able to read sight words yet?

Is there a well child visit at 15 months? Or 16 months?

Don’t forget, don’t forget, don’t forget…it’s pajama week at dance class.

Did I remember to pack his lovey?

What am I forgetting? I must be forgetting something?

Do we have enough milk to get through tomorrow?

No, really. What am I forgetting?

STOP

 

Okay, your turn. Spill it, moms. Has Mommy Brain caused you to forget something important?

 

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Remember When I Told You to Live the Crap Out of Life?

Remember this post about Gran?

Well, exactly one week after I published that post, one of my most favorite people on this planet surprised me with the sweetest gift.

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My heart overflowed with happiness because of the thoughtfulness and love I felt when I opened that package.

And I cried.

And now these adorable note cards are available for sale. I absolutely love this!

Thank you, Jenna!

Do you love these, too? Would you like a set of your own? Tell me what you’re doing this week to really live, and I’ll pick one lucky commenter to receive these adorable note cards on Friday night at 9 p.m. EST

Ordinary {Five Minute Friday}

Happy Friday! I’m joining Lisa Jo’s community this week….she gives the prompt, and we write for five minutes, then hit publish. No editing or second guessing.

This week: Ordinary…

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There’s nothing ordinary about His love.

He never sleeps. He watches over us instead.

He knows ever hair on my head.

He forgives and moves on.

He never turns me away.

He listens to me. Always.

He protects me.

He gently guides me.

He doesn’t let me slip.

He is the source of true joy.

He wants my life to be full and my heart to sing.

Most of all, He wants me to love Him back.

This has been a hard week, but with a God like mine (and yours), I’ve seen joy amidst sorrow. He comforts like no other. He fills the empty, hurting places with truth and love. There is no love like His love, and no place I’d rather be than with Him.

I didn’t know this about Him from the start. It’s taken time to learn and to trust. But it’s the best way to spend your time – getting to know the Maker of heaven and earth.

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Just one more thing…I’m excited to tell you that I finally have a “My Favorites” post coming soon! It’s been too long. Start thinking about your favorites so you can share the love!

Happy weekend!
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A Life Well Lived

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My Gran lived a long, full life before passing away last Thursday. I loved her so much. To me, she was the very definition of a lady.

I’ve written about her a few times before, and now on the day of her funeral, I’m remembering all sorts of things about her…

But what I’m thinking about most is that after 101+ years of living, I still think she lived such a short time.

As I sat with her Wednesday afternoon, I found myself wondering what she was like when she was a toddler. That’s something nobody on this earth knows, and after 50 (or less) years go by the same will be true of me.

You know what that makes me want to do?

Live the crap out of life.

And love the crap out of people.

Ever since Wednesday, I’ve been thinking that now is the time to live. Not when the kids are just a bit older or when retirement finally comes or whatever it is that’s holding us back. Now is the time to show people you care about them.

I’m sure Gran would have found a different way to say it, but I know she’d agree with me.

So, go on…live the crap out of today. And while you’re at it, love the crap out of God and people. Because after all, that’s the greatest command, right?

Jesus replied: “ ‘Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’ (Matthew 22:37-39 NIV84)

Beloved {Five Minute Friday}

I’m late, but still joining Lisa Jo’s community this week….she gives the prompt, and we write for five minutes, then hit publish. No editing or second guessing.

This week: Beloved

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When you started dating before you both had driver’s licenses and you were too young to have experienced a junior prom dance…

And you get nearly 16 years down the road and you can’t believe junior prom was so long ago…

When you remember thinking how silly it would be if you ever had kids, played house someday…

And then you blink and two little babies call you mama…

When you’ve been hugging the same man since he was just a boy himself…

Well, you can start to take him for granted.

Today theBOY, my man, was there when I needed to talk at 8:16 a.m. and my day that just began nearly ended me.

And he was here when I got home tonight all tired and arms full of bags and babies.

Today I didn’t take him for granted. Today he reminded me how lucky I am. How loved I am.

STOP

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Afraid {Five Minute Friday}

I’m joining Lisa Jo’s community again this week….she gives the prompt, and we write for five minutes, then hit publish. No editing or second guessing.

This week?  Afraid.

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Lately, I’ve been thinking about doing things, and I’m actually already doing some things, that make me afraid. These Five Minute Friday posts included!

I’m learning to step up and put myself out there, even when I’m scared to death.

Usually fear paralyzes me, but I’m trying to put one foot in front of the other as I walk through these scary, yet exciting, things.

I’m writing more.

I’m working more.

I’m playing more.

I’m loving more.

I’m learning what it means to be free. And I’m learning there is no fear in freedom. None.

So, while I’m usually one who pulls the covers up over my head when fear sets in, I’m trying to throw back the curtains, let the light shine in, and move forward.

Unafraid.

STOP

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One more thing, if you don’t mind?  My friend Kris released her new book today. Holey, Wholly, Holy: A Lenten Journey of Refinement is free to her newsletter subscribers and is also available for purchase through Amazon (Kindle and or paperback). I’ll share more about the book on Monday, but I wanted to give you the chance to get your free copy today!

 

Breathe Deep :: A Daydream

Maybe it’s just winter doldrums, but today my mind was going 100 miles per hour.

I found myself thinking about… a world filled with moms who feel bad for going to work, moms who feel bad because they want to go to work, dads who feel bad because they haven’t landed the big promotion, friends who can’t get married, friends who can’t have babies, babies who don’t even get a chance at life, cars that break down, sisters who don’t speak, friends who are selfish, husbands who cheat, wives who flirt, teachers who don’t care, teachers who do care but are consumed by state standards, pastors who cause scandal, church members who gossip, mentally ill who wreak havoc, and everyone has an opinion and most everyone has an agenda.

As my mind was all over the place, a thought popped into my head that stopped me dead in my tracks.

I imagined everyone in the world taking one big, collective deep breath. I mean everyone in the world, all at once.

And I’m not talking about a deep sigh. I’m talking about one of those breaths you take to fill your lungs completely, then exhale because it’s the only thing left to do.

(Go on, try it. I promise, you will feel better. I’ll wait.)

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Then, in typical Sarah-style, my imagination quickly turned the thought into a vivid daydream.*

Seriously, what if everyone just STOPPED to breathe deep? What if we all just stopped for a pause.

Stopped having expectations of others that just lead to disappointment. Started expecting only from God who promises us He never changes and told us exactly what to expect from Him.

Stopped harboring bitterness. Started loving unconditionally because, really, loving someone isn’t about us anyway.

Stopped trying to get ahead and accumulating stuff. Started living like we’re leaving this filthy old place eventually anyway.

Stopped worrying and fretting about what might happen, what we might miss out on, what we might never get to do. Started spending the days trying to figure out what God would have us do.

Stopped being lazy. Started being eager.

Stopped playing the victim. Started helping the truly victimized.

Stopped caring about the voices that don’t matter. Started speaking for the hopeless without a voice.

I need to learn to stop and take a deep breathe when life feels out of control. How about you? Will you join me today as I breathe deep?

*I feel compelled to be completely honest about my daydream. I may have the imagination of a six-year old because I also thought about how stinky it might be for everyone to let out a deep breath at the same time. I mean, there are some people with really stinky breath, right? So then, I thought, if I could actually make this happen, I’d definitely need to have a plan to distribute lots of mints. But then, I thought that might backfire. Have you ever smelled bad breath masked in peppermint? So maybe everyone should brush their teeth first. You know, to place it safe.