My grace

I've been hearing a lot about grace lately.  I read about in a book I was reading, the pastor preached about it Sunday, I keep hearing songs about it on the radio, and I even read a blog post about it this week.  This is a super busy week for me and I have way too much going on for me to even fathom, but looking at myself in the mirror at almost 9 o'clock I had a revelation and it was so big I had trouble sleeping last night.  In his sermon the pastor talked about how all grace is His grace.  That it all comes from God.  I am not disputing that, but I do think that sometimes grace comes directly from God and sometimes the path of God's grace is a little more indirect.  I think that we can give a portion of the grace that God has given to us to others.  We can show others the great power of God's love through the grace that we show others.  I also believe that any grace we show others we on,u have because God gave it to us to share.   I am a very self aware individual I have many flaws and I know what they are.  I know how hard I can be to get along with.  I also know that I have strengths and attributes.  Now I will admit that I tend to be much harder on myself than I need to be.  Also I have always had a lot to compare myself to.  I have four sisters.  I have never felt like I was the pretty one.  I have never felt like I was the personable one.  I am smart, but so are the rest of my sisters.  Girls are about comparisons.  Then I found myself looking in the mirror with my big crazy hair, my dark circles, the extra weight I never managed to lose after #2, and a full days exhaustion, and I saw something that I had not seen in a very long time.  There was some beauty in that face.  I have never been particularly fond of my own looks, but I don't know if it was seeing all the memories of my father in that face, seeing the beauty of being a mother finally, or if it just had to do with finally giving myself a break.   I am my own worst critic and I never feel good enough at any of the thing that I am trying to accomplish, but in that moment it was different.  What I realized is I've got to give myself a break.  I've got to let myself have some of that grace God is trying so desperately to give me. The preacher commented on how we can be perfect for now.  Perfect at this stage.  I don't know if I will ever wrap my head around that, but I think I can come to term with being what's needed.  I am the mother that my girls need right and God willing as they need something else I can be that too.  I am the teacher that at least one of my students needs right now.   And that doesn't always mean that it has to be good or easy.  My new revelation was put to the test this morning.  I had crying and tantrum throwing left and right while my dear hubby was not here.  At one point I had to just put my three year old in her room to cry, but when I stopped and took a breath I gave myself a little grace.  It stopped me from that old trap of telling myself I was a terrible mother.  I was the mother she needed right then even if that meant she had to cry for a little bit.  Whether you want to call it giving yourself a little bit of grace or just letting you have the grace God is trying to give you it is the same sentiment and it comes from the same source.  It may not work for me every day, but for today it not only worked, it was profound.  And it makes me want to ask when was the last time you gave yourself a little grace?

Memory Lane

Lately I've spent a great deal of time traveling down memory lane.  I'm not sure what has made me so introspective as of late it is probably some combination of my baby girl being sick, my oldest starting to plan her 4th birthday party(and when did four get so old), and the fact that my 30th birthday is right around the corner.  I am not in the middle of a mid life crisis, I promise.  So far this trip down memory lane has been good and I think I had forgotten that sometimes it could be a good and beautiful thing.  It has been overshadowed by so many hurts for so long.  I've been remembering some good and funny times with my dad as a child.  Like when he would try and do my hair and my little sisters until I was old enough to do both of ours.  His love for fireworks.  The way his nature seemed to completely change when he was with the two of us.  He was different with us that everyone else.  It was like the grizzly turned into a teddy.  One of my students sparked the memory of when my hubby gave me my promise ring before I off and left him for college.  Reminiscing about what it felt like for three small town kids who graduated together in a class of about 80 to ban together at the big university to take on the world.  And man all the feelings of being pregnant the first time and then bringing that baby girl home with me.  Then all the faker and celebrations that came with my second pregnancy.   Sometimes it's good to remember, even when it's hard to forget.  Sometimes I get so trapped in all the things I've had to push through that I never just stop to smell the roses and remember that there were some beautiful moments in there too that helped to make me who I am.  Even the Phoenix who rises up from the ashes didn't have all bad days.  I think that particularly with all that is going on in the world and in my life it is even more important to stop every once and a while sip the hot chocolate and remember.  Not to get stuck in the past, but to remind myself that no matter how hard things may seem there is always beauty there.  Look for the beauty and savor it.  Memory lane is a two way street and tonight I'm walking on he sunny side of it.

Sometimes it's just about being where God puts you.

Sometimes it's just about being where God puts you.  My job is hard.  So hard.  I get my students right at the time of their lives where hormones are raging, they are trying to figure out who they are and who they want to be, and they are having some of the most important moments of their lives.  Sometimes this is the best job and sometimes it's the worst.  I'm not talking about how overwhelmed I am by extra duties or by my job being dictated by bureaucrats who were either never in the classroom or have just managed to forget.  This job is emotionally draining.  My students are high emotions all the time that's just the way that teenagers are.  Sometimes they are the normal kind and sometimes these children have so much to bear.  Some of these babies fight battles that I feel like I never could have survived at their age,
Sometimes I feel like I am spinning my wheels, like I may not be very good at my job.  You know all those things that you start thinking when times are hard and sometimes things feel hard more often than they don't.  However, sometimes you know that you are exactly where you are supposed to be when you are supposed to be there.  Those are the moments that make the hard times of this job worth it.
These moments also let me hear God speaking to me.  I have questioned my choice of occupation a lot recently in these hard times.  When moments like this happen, when a student takes me in to their confidence and I am able to help them.  I hear God whispering to me that He has me exactly where I am supposed to be and that's a beautiful feeling.  It makes some of the other days a little easier to get through.  We just can't give up until we get to those moments.
Sometimes it's just about being where God put you.

When we Wrestle

In my book club this week we have started studying Habakkuk the wrestling prophet.  In the chapter about wrestling she begs us all to take a closer look at what type of wrestlers we are so we can better understand why we wrestle.  I have to admit sometimes it feels like I wrestle with God more often than I don't.  I don't know if that's because of the type of wrestler I discovered I am, if it's because I'm particularly hard headed, or if it because I'm still relatively new on this journey.  I have a suspicion that it is actually a combination of all of these things.  It seems that I am what she dubs a "research-a-nator".  I am very type A I like to know things and one of the first things that I do when something happens is look it up.  I think this is what drew me to the sciences.  There are so many things in life that you can't look up, that there are no concrete answers for.  When I don't understand I wrestle.  There is nothing wrong with wrestling with God.  A sentiment that her and my pastor share; God can handle it so go ahead be angry, yell, wrestle, do what you need to do.  It's ok to cry out to God.  Sometimes that is the only way that we can deal, that we can cope.  Just like Habakkuk I often find myself asking God why.  I often feel like my family gets more than it's fair share of heartache, but just like Habakkuk I'm probably not going to like the answer he gives me.  God can't start the true work in us until we stop wrestling and have faith.  I know that and it still doesn't stop the feelings.  Eventually Habakkuk was able to to surrender to God and something beautiful came out of that.  Maybe someday I will too, and he will be able to something come out of this.  Like our preacher tends to say in prayer "God please make it better and if not please make it count". I know everything is not going to be better all the time, so I am just praying He will make it count.

When Jesus calls you by name

In church this Sunday the pastor was talking to us about the power of a name and when Jesus calls you by name.  He asked us to remember when we heard Jesus call us by name.  I am a little hard headed and I got a little lost so I can remember Jesus calling me by name twice.
The first time seems so special even when I think back to it.  I was probably in third grade.  I was at Awanas.  We were having our message and I don't remember what it was about, but I do remember the feeling.  I remember that deep faith and the urgent prayers that only a child can prayer.  There is something so easy and so beautiful about the faith of a child.  My life was in such upheaval at that time, but when I think back to that moment when Jesus was calling out to me by name I remember praying so fervently and hoping so fiercely that Jesus wouldn't think that I was too young to make this decision (because I had so many people in my life at that time telling me I was too young to make decisions).  Then I remember the sweet tears of joy leaking out of my eyes as I felt so loved and so steady in a time where that was in short supply.
One thing that I wish now is that faith was as easy now as it was when I was a child.  The second time that Jesus called me by name was many years later actually it was this past year.  Last May my family and I started going to church after being invited by some friends our ours.  My husband and I had been talking about trying to find a church home for years at least for our girls and never did.  Then we decided to go that day.  That was not the day that he called me, but we went and the people were wonderful.  Not to lie I did feel a little tug, but thats not the same.  Weeks or maybe months later I'm not certain, but sitting in those pews the preacher started preaching and there it was Jesus was calling my name and I knew I was exactly where I was supposed to be.  Again I don't really remember exactly what the message was about, but I remember that feeling.  It was similar to the first time, but so different all at the same time.  I had lost a great deal of innocence and gained much more baggage since that day so many years earlier, but that doesn't mean that I didn't feel His presence wash over me.
I have good days and bad days.  Some days I feel like I am taking one step forward and two steps back, but I am still trying to answer that call.  Now I guess I will just have to wait and see what God does with it.

No one has it all together

The first chapter that we read in my online book club this week was all about comparisons.  We have a tendency to look at other people and think that they have themselves together and we don't.  The truth is that we don't know what is going on behind closed doors or in someone else's heart.  I have a very good example of this.  I have a good friend of mine and we have been running in the same circles for years, but we were never really friends.  I always thought that she had it all together and honestly I was jealous.  I don't know if it was the jealousy or if God just led us to each other when we needed it most; but once we really became friends I realized that her life is just as crazy as mine.  Sometimes we have to reveal to others the we are "fresh out of amazing" before they will share with us.  With women and with moms in particular we compare everything.  We do it with each other and society is terrible about it.  They (society) tried to convince me that I wasn't as fit of a mother because I chose not to breast feed my children.  Moms compare themselves all the time.  Why does she look so cute?  What trick does she know so that she has time for herself?  Why does her child behave better than mine.  And heaven forbid you are an anxious mom like I am, then there are so many thoughts coming through your head about how you didn't do it that way and what did I do wrong?  Eventually as far as the mom part I began to realize as I had to advocate for my sickly children that I really did know best after all I am there mother.  When we struggle like this its okay to tell people.  If we put up these walls all the time people start to think that we might have it all together and that maybe we need to also.  That is most certainly not true.  I never have it all together and feel "fresh out of amazing" more often than not and thats okay.  If I had not been willing to push myself out of my comfort zone and reveal the struggles that I have I may have missed out on a beautiful friendship that has been such a blessing to me over the last several months.  Sometimes even hard headed people like  me listen when God starts to nudge.  Jus like I heard them say to our students in FCA last week sometimes fear can cause us to miss out on something great and Im glad I didn't.

Being a Martha

I'm reading a new book for the new year.  Fresh out of Amazing by Stacey Thacker.  I think that title pretty much sums up how I feel about the job I have been doing recently.  I am just fresh out of amazing and that seems to be what everyone expects of me.  I still have this renewed sense of peace that God has blessed with me for the past couple of weeks, but I can still feel so,e things brewing under there.  Particularly in moments like the one I had earlier today when my 1 1/2 year old would quit crying and screaming and all she's wanted for two or three days is for me to hold her (which is great for a little while), but I got to the point where I just literally threw my hands up and screamed back at her that I didn't know what she wanted from me.  I felt like I had nothing left to give.  In my book tonight I just finished chapter two about being a Martha and boy did that hit home for me.  We all read about her in the Bible and see how busy she was taking care of the house too busy to spend time with Jesus, but how often do we stop to take the time to think about how she must have been feeling?  She was so stressed and anxious about taking care of everyone in her house that she couldn't even stop to enjoy the company of Jesus the thing she needed more than anything.  Reading about Martha with this perspective made me stop and think about how often that's me.  I started taking care of people at a young age.  Starting in fourth or fifth grade I was the one in charge of keeping up with my younger sister after school and most nights if we wanted to eat I was also in charge of dinner.  My mom worker late and my older sisters had jobs and other stuff so that was my job.  I feel like I have been doing it ever since.  In life it is so easy to stress about the small stuff.  Like yesterday we had friends come over for New Year's Eve.  I spent most of the day cooking and getting ready and I was a ball of anxiety.  About an hour before people started showing up I was a complete crazy lady.  Trying to get my hubby to feed the girls.  Trying to finish cooking.  Worrying if there would be enough food.  Would anyone like my food anyway?  Was my house clean enough?  Would my children tone down their crazy in front of company?  Like I said complete crazy lady.  I think Martha felt like that.  I love to have people over and I love to take care of people.  I have been a nurturer for so long sometimes I feel like it's one of the only things that I am good at.  Of course sometimes I feel like I'm not even good at that.  It is so easy to get caught up in these moments of life that we don't make time for Jesus or serve others in the ways that He desires (not in the ways we desire).  I a man hoping that in reading this book I will learn how to tone down my crazy lady and to seek God first.  Nurturing is a beautiful thing, but just imagine how much better it could be if we chose to seek God first and not give in to the inner crazy lady.