Wednesday, June 21, 2017

the one thing I don't want to do

A lot of people online are writing about Lysa TerKeurst's divorce. I posted a link to one of those posts on my Facebook page this morning, it's a beautiful post from the husband's perspective, but as I read his post I felt like maybe I should write from my own experience. Because while I don't know what it is like to experience the kind of heartbreak and betrayal that Lysa has been experiencing I do know a little something about being in a failing marriage. I do not mean this as a criticism of Lysa or her marriage, I am the last person in the world to judge another woman about her marriage.  I have been the foolish woman who tears down her house with her own two hands, and I have sat across the room from Daniel as he is telling me that he doesn't want to be married to me any more. Words spoken not out of anger  in the middle of an argument, but words of surrender to the heartache of a failing marriage. We have walked through that fire and come out on the other side, and I'd say we are stronger now than we have been in a long long time. I'd consider this  nothing less than a miracle.


As I have lived on the roller coaster of an unhappy marriage I have learned that there is a time to be quiet. When marriage is hard sometimes  the only thing you can do is bring your broken heart to God and cry out to Him and trust Him, in the middle of the wind and waves, to be the rock under your feet. Sometimes you just have to stand still and trust that God will make the walls fall down. Sometimes you have to be quiet and let God fight your battles. I think that maybe this comes more naturally for me. I am good at standing still and I am good at being quiet.


But lately I have been learning that sometimes  I need to do the one thing that I don't want to do to fight for my marriage. Sometimes I need to speak up. I am learning that I am the canary in our marriage. I am the one who makes mountains out of molehills before the molehills become mountains. I am learning that sometimes I have to fight for my marriage with my mouth. With kindness and with encouragement and with a challenge. It didn't take me long to learn that I'm not the Holy Spirit and it's not my job to take responsibility for Daniel's walk with God. It's not my job to be picky,nagging or complaining, and it's not my job to change my husband so that things are more comfortable for myself. But it is my job to fight for my marriage. It means I don't give up and I don't give up and I keep on speaking up. It means I don't expect him to agree the first time or the second time and I try not to take it personally but I keep on believing in my marriage. I keep on loving. I don't give up the hope that I will have a happy marriage one day with the man I'm married to now.

I totally suck at this. I am better at getting offended and angry or quiet and bitter. I am not good at giving a loving challenge, especially when I know it probably won't be well-received. But I've also learned what happenes when I am quiet when I should speak up. It is unloving and selfish and the one way I don't want to love my husband. I am very good at sweeping things under the rug and getting over it and letting things go. I would rather love my husband with all of the hugs and cups of coffee in the world just don't ask me to have another hard conversation where I feel not-listened to.

When my marriage hit rock-bottom I felt like God gave me this challenge - was I willing to do the one thing I don't want to do in order to fight for my marriage?  I don't know what your one thing that you don't want to do might be. This is mine.

Monday, June 5, 2017

Kid Lit Book Review: Can you Find My Robot's Arm?


There is a time in the life our young child, as they are learning to enjoy the wonderful things that we call books, when all they want is books with only a few words on each page. This can be a challenging stage and we tend to either read a lot of really boring books and/or we end up reading the same few over and over and over until we can pretty much "read" without so much as look at the page. Well, let me introduce you to a newcomer to your children's bookshelf. It is called  Can You Find My Robot's Arm? - it is by Chihiro Takeuchi and it features beautiful hand-cut paper illustrations.


The story follows a young robot who has lost his arm. The robot and it's small friend search around town -  in the garden, at the candy store,  the amusement park, the aquarium - trying to find a suitable replacement for the robot's arm. Each illustration is intricate and interesting - sure to capture the imagination of the robot-loving and detail-loving child. Each page is simple and can be read quickly. Each illustration is beautifully intricate. You can pre-order the book on Amazon - it releases July 4.


I received a digital copy of this book from NetGalley.com for the purpose of this review. Links to Amazon are affiliate links. Thank you for supporting my blog! If you want to see what I'm reading to my kids right now then be sure to follow me on Instagram! 

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Monday, May 15, 2017

Dear Mothers of Littles who Struggle to Keep Up with Housework

So, tonight I cleaned my kitchen. Maybe in your house that's an everyday thing but my big girls have been doing the dishes after dinner most nights for the last couple of years (yes, it's pretty much as wonderful as it sounds). However tonight they messed up and didn't do their chores, and since Grayson was asleep I decided I would go ahead and clean the kitchen so things wouldn't pile up.

As I wiped down the counters I found a note from a friend. I had stashed it there specifically so that a) it wouldn't get lost or destroyed and b) so that I could read it again one day when I'd needed the encouragement. So with a dish rag in one hand and a kitchen towel over my shoulder I sat down at the kitchen table and read that note again. My friend reminded me of who she sees when she looks at me - not someone who is a mess, or a disaster or boring or whatever, but someone who is a gift. And some other really nice things that helped me remember who I am.

I put the card in a more semi-permanant place where it should be safe from the fingers of my 18 month old but where I'll find it again and as I got back to wiping counters I felt the Holy Spirit remind me of the words Jesus said to Martha"she has chosen the good part, which shall not be taken away from her." 

It made me pause.

what I REALLY wore

I shared this picture on my Instagram the other day - it's one of my all time favorite pictures from when Eli was a baby because it is just so honest. This is exactly what my room looked like and pretty much what I looked like most days back then. Honestly it is still what I look like most days - except for that shirt is too small for me now so one of my big girls wears it and it looks so much better on her than it ever did on me.

I don't think it is any surprise to anyone who knows me at all but I am one of "those moms" who struggle with housework. I had a messy room as a kid (I hated it when my mom made me clean because I could never find anything!) and I struggled with a messy house for the approximately five seconds between when we got married and I got pregnant. I struggled under the mountain of laundry and the kitchen sink full of dishes and a bunch of little kids. I'd momentarily "get my act together" and luxuriate in the bliss of clean surfaces but that never lasted.

I just can't wash dishes while my baby cries and I don't care if there is laundry to be folded if my kiddo needs a cuddle, and since we are being honest here - I would way rather read a book than vacuum. I am also super lazy about dusting, I would just way rather do other things that help me calm down after an emotionally overwhelming day. Yes, this drives my neat freak very tidy husband totally nuts.

During these fifteen years of struggling with the housework I have struggled even more with feeling guilty about it. Over the years I've taken small steps away from the burden of shame and I have let go of the the jealousy of comparison. I have more or less stopped judging what is hard for me against what brings other women joy, bust still. It's a temptation to feel like I'm less of a good mom because I'm a horrific housewife.

I'm not saying that y'all all stop caring about your housework or become more like me, not even for a minute but, over the years I have chosen to snuggle babies and sit and read with little kiddos. I've sat and talked with teenagers. I've taken a nap  (because I'm just not the same person as when I've had enough sleep). I've read books and stayed up too late writing. I've chosen to go have coffee with a friend, and chosen to just go take a bath and think. Over these fifteen years I have become the result of all of those little choices and maybe not all of those choices were always the "best" ones but a lot of them were really good ones for me and I am thankful for what that has done to the inside of me.

So what I am saying is that we all keep taking another step away from the "shoulds" and the "oughts" and the lies of shame - it isn't helping anyway. You're not able to do everything all of the time. Some balls are going to drop - so take a second and make sure they are the right ones.

So Dear Mother of Littles who Struggles to Keep Up with the Housework - I'm cheering for you. On the flip side of this weakness there is a strength. Ask God to open your eyes to it. Ask the Holy Spirit to help you see your days the way Jesus sees them. I bet he loves the way you listen and the way you play. The way you teach and the way you take your time when you could have rushed. He loves every minute you spent tickling that baby and every moment you spent looking at the random bug your kid is interested in because He loves to see you love so well. I don't think God looks at some Heavenly chore chart that is lacking in gold stars for the day, not even a little. He sees the hours spent rocking crying babies and He notices how gently we bathe them after the massive diaper blow-out.

This is the stuff of Heaven here on earth.



Saturday, May 13, 2017

#DearMotherofLittles

My second-oldest had her eighth-grade formal last night. I'm remembering her older sister's formal just last year and I'm feeling every shade of nostalgic today. My girls have just grown so fast this year. And so I've been thinking about that sweet young mama who was me not all that long ago, and I have been trying to think about what she needed to hear...  


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Dear Mother of Littles,
I remember what it was like as a mother of littles - in the quiet, when the day had been long and hard and I hadn't quite been the person I had hoped I would be, motherhood felt unbearably heavy. It felt a lot like drowning and a little bit like being buried alive. Sometimes I'd look around me and wonder why I struggled so much.  I felt like I should be able to do all of this (and with a smile on my face!) but the reality of most days was that I felt more like crying. I was trying so desperately to be a good mom for my kids but I felt like I must be doing something wrong for this to be so hard.

I remember feeling so lonely even though I barely got a minute alone. I remember feeling utterly exhausted emotionally and at the same time bored out of my mind.  I felt trapped at the same time as I felt like there was no place I'd rather be. I felt like I was doing both the most important and the most meaningless work. I was scared to death that my kids would grow up, turn to point an accusing finger at me, and list all of the ways I had failed them as they were growing up.

Dear Mother of Littles this season is so hard. It is just really really really really really (shall I keep going?) really really hard. It is so hard to have little people crying, screeching and whining at you all day long. Those moments when everyone is happy and things are running smoothly are just too few and far between. It is so hard to deal with the pressure of the sleep training and the potty training and the everything-else-training every waking moment (and a lot of the moments when you should be sleeping). It is so hard when sleep deprivation stretches out beyond days or weeks into years. And why on earth does it have to be so hard just to do something as simple as empty the dishwasher?! It is so very hard when it feels like no one else in our little home really understands how brutally hard theses days usually are. But sweet mama, please hear this, because it took me altogether too long to learn this for myself. It doesn't feel this hard because you are weak or because you're doing it wrong,  it feels this hard because This Is Hard. 




We all struggled through this season. Some of us coped with the struggle by writing or photography or craft projects or going places with our kids. Some of us coped by trying to keep our houses clean, some of us coped by giving up on housework completely. Some of us coped by exercising a lot, some of us gave up on exercise completely for awhile. Please don't judge your inside by somebody else's outside or your weakness against another mother's strength.

Eventually your little one is going to be able to do the most amazing things. They are going to grow up and be able to make you a sandwich and help you remember where you left your shoes. They are going to sleep all night in their own bed, every night. They will help you with that mountain of laundry you can never quite conquer. And eventually you are going to set aside those Dora the Explorer DVDs (or Paw Patrol or whatever it is the little kids are watching on Netflix these days) and the two of you are going to go see that movie that just came out that is based on the book you both read and it is going to be amazing. 

Dear Mother of Littles - you are going to be okay. You are going survive this season and head into the next one better and stronger for it. I know there are moments when you wonder if you have what it takes to get through this. You do. This is a season of intense sowing but right around the corner you'll finally start reaping the first little bit of a harvest and it is going to be so satisfying. Keep your eyes open for it. Don't miss it. He is eventually going to walk right along beside you without fighting you every step of the way, and she is going to show so much compassion for a sibling or a friend that it is going to melt your heart. You are going to watch her do something you thought was maybe too hard for her and you are going to witness his intelligence and curiosity. Eventually, she is going to sit up in the front seat and talk about the way she sees the world and it is going to blow your mind what a smart, kind person is growing up next to you. 

Right now you can only barely imagine what incredible young people these little kids are going to become. I know you might have an idea in your head - but take that, multiply it times ten and maybe you are in the same neighborhood of how awesome your kids are becoming.  They are going to be real people, with their own quirks and irritating behavior and weaknesses and struggles. They are going to drive you crazy sometimes, and sometimes the parenting issues you are going to face with them are going to knock the wind out of you for a minute. But not every day, and definitely not in the rapid-fire way that it is when you are home with little ones.

Dear Mother of Littles - what you are doing now matters. The way you hug her when she falls, the way you encourage him to try again, the way that you walk around in the world and talk to your friends. The way that you encourage, challenge, and correct your sweet littles matters. Eventually you're going to visit your child at school or bump into other older kids at the park and you're going to see what it does to a child to not have a parent who is nurturing, and you're going to realize all over again that what you are doing now matters a lot. It might not feel like it in the moments - all of these hours of nursing and bottles and diapers and walking around with spit-up on your shirt, or peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and legos - they usually feel like nothing in the moment. These ordinary moments seem like the spare change that falls into the couch and isn't missed, the pennies that we pass in the parking lot and don't bother to stop and pick up. Our days are full of these penny moments - but these penny moments add up to something really valuable. Eventually our kids meet the world with an ocean full of penny moments, and they are rich with compassion and curiosity; the ability to show respect and exercise self-control. 



I know that these days feel long, hard, and sometimes suffocating. I know that sometimes each season feels like an entire lifetime. I know that sometimes it is infuriating, the way that just as you were finally settling into a rhythm your baby grows and changes, and your routine has to grow with it. I remember how hard it was during those first few years after they started school and how it felt like maybe now nothing in my life was ever going to change again ever. And I know that mothers with older kids, like me, sometimes say annoying things about how much we miss the baby years or how fast these years fly by. Sometimes we complain about how hard the teen years are and try to compare our struggle to yours. Ugh, just to all of it, ugh. But when I stop to remember what it felt like for me, as a mother of littles, all I just want to say is - you are doing the thing the that matters most. Your imperfect mothering is enough and you are doing a good job. I don't think you can even know right now, from the place where you sit on the floor with your kids, what an amazing thing it is that you are doing. And I love you for that.


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Dear Mother of Not-So-Littles,

My friend Jessica recently re-posted a link to this post where she asks the moms of the not-so-littles to remember what words mamas of littles really need to hear (and what is less helpful). She is deep in the trenches of motherhood, in the struggle of the static-hold-hard of the elementary school years - the day after day after day of lunch boxes to pack, car lines to wait in, and homework - wash, rinse, repeat. She does not want to hear that the teen years are even harder. It's just not helpful.

I had another conversation recently, with my friend Bethany, that went along the same lines. She has two kids under three, her days are long and hard and she confessed that when other moms say things like like "you'll miss this one day" and "these years fly by" or "cherish every moment!" that she doesn't feel any better. It's just not helpful.

So I am starting a hashtag on Instagram where I'll be writing encouraging notes to those who are just beginning their journey of motherhood and I'm calling it #DearMotherofLittles. I'm also offering this hashtag to you - what did your younger self need to hear? Tag your note #DearMotherofLittles. Now that you have made it around the bend, would you pause for a moment to glance back and leave a love note for those who are on their way? Use the hashtag #DearMotherofLittles and feel free to join in wherever you show up on social media.

Monday, April 24, 2017

Kid Lit Book Review: Super Narwhal


Some kids learn to read quickly and they jump into the deep end of reading and dive down just as deep and as fast as they can, devouring longer and longer books. Other kids are more reluctant readers. Reading is harder for them, they learn slower and are more hesitant to read for long stretches of time. I have struggled with my reluctant readers until they discovered the beautiful thing that is the graphic novel for young readers. With a few words on each page and engaging illustrations graphic novels turned my reluctant readers into enthusiastic readers, eager to find their next favorite book. The difficulty with this genre can be finding titles that are appropriate and finding titles with anything even close to educational content.

Super Narwhal and Jelly Jolt: A Narwhal and Jelly Book by Ben Clanton is a terrific addition to this genre. The illustrations and content are engaging, imaginative and in places even educational. It's a great book to gift your young reader. It is divided into four short "chapters" where best friends Narwhal and Jelly imagine that they are super heroes and also make up a story about a super hero waffle and his strawberry sidekick. You can pre-order it on Amazon now - it releases May 2
If you can't wait till then try looking for Narwahl: Unicorn of the Sea (A Narwhal and Jelly book) which is also super-cute and mildly educational. You can view a couple of pages on the Narwhal and Jelly website and download some super cute activity pages you can also check out his Instagrams.

I received a digital copy of this book from NetGalley.com for the purpose of this review. Links to Amazon are affiliate links. Thank you for supporting my blog! If you want to see what I'm reading to my kids right now then be sure to follow me on Instagram! 

Thursday, April 20, 2017

what if my miracle is you?

It is beautifully foggy this morning. However this morning the boys woke up the baby thirty precious minutes early. This morning one of the girls are the very last bar that I was going to give the baby for breakfast. This morning I have basically done nothing but sit at my computer and cry.

A post shared by faith raider (@faithraider) on

I have felt, for awhile really in a vague feeling at the back of my head, that I couldn't properly write my "brave" book until I got my "confessions" book finished and seeing as I am starting notes on a "delight" book I need to clear the decks so that I can continue to write properly. I'd been trying to get "brave" written, basically trying to merge my 31 days of brave  part 1 and part 2 but as I have been writing all about being brave with our stories I have been realizing that I am not being brave with my own.

I wrote a series called "Confessions of a Road Kill Christian" back a couple of years ago and now I'm trying to turn them into a proper book. So here I sit, trying. I went back and read the first few posts I wrote back then. They hit me in my gut. I know that I need to write this now, because the truths I learned back then I am needing to re-learn right now. Shredding the "should", refusing to live in shame, rejecting the lie that I have to get myself together before I can come to God. These are all lessons I am continually re-learning. So here I sit typing through the tears.


Wednesday, April 19, 2017

a post about writing

My life coach pretty much threw down the gauntlet. We were talking yesterday about my writing and I was complaining about my writing - it is at the very core of who I am, but it is at the fringes of what I actually do every day. I was hoping she would give me some kind of a magical cure for my conundrum and I don't know, maybe in a way she did - but what she said was "maybe, in this season, you don't really WANT to write." These words have lit a fire within me to prove her wrong.

I struggle struggle struggle to make myself do the things that I think are the most important. In some ways I'm not much of a fighter, I'm actually kind of a pushover and I give into resistance pretty easily. So setting boundaries on writing time (not just the very last few minutes of the day, or whatever the rest of my family doesn't need - like these ones) is murder for me. Laying down the "no" to whatever it is in order to say "yes" to writing is just. so. hard for me.

As I was brushing my teeth I had a mini-epiphany and it was long enough that I felt like I needed to write it down somewhere - thus the blog post. So here you go. Here are my top reasons why I'm not writing that are all in my head:

the lie of scarcity
I feel like I have about five minutes of quality time in which to write - whatever I write during those five minutes had better be "the right thing". Um, no. Exhibit A - Elizabeth Gilbert. She'd written a few things here and there about this and that before she published her unexpectedly, wildly successful book of memoir called "eat pray love" and now she has a very popular book on creativity called "Big Magic". She has written things in between these two big hits that have ranged everywhere from mildly successful to total flops. That wasn't wasted time. It's true that I'll make less progress if I work on a bunch of different projects all at once - but I don't need to put all of my eggs in the basket of this project I'm currently working on. It'll be accepted or it won't be. All I can do is write it and keep writing it. Then I'll move onto writing the next thing. One of these things might be published, or not. One of these things might sell nicely, or it won't. If I keep on waiting for "the one" that is going to land a movie contract or become a best-seller or whatever, I'll be frozen in fear. If I keep on waiting for that moment when I can sigh and say "yes, I'm not a total failure as a writer." I might need to grown that internally instead of longing for it externally. I have lost the exact words I want for this. I thin we know what this feels like - we desperately want someone to come along behind us and say "yes." to us. I'm kind of terrified that it I don't pick the right project to work on then I won't get that "yes" from the world that I want. So I'm trying to remind myself that over the course of my lifetime there is plenty of time to write, to write books that don't get published or that don't sell much. It's okay.

the lie of importance
This is a sister to the lie of scarcity - and this is the idea that whatever I write needs to be important. It needs to matter. Yeah, so I think I have got this out of my system at least most of the way. I used to be so hung up on everything I considered as a possible writing project had to be a Big Important Work of art or spirituality. Recently though I have read books that weren't Big or Important they were just middling works but they were helpful. Or I've read novels that were pure cotton candy for my brain and they were delightful. It's okay to be small and simple. Sometimes that's what is needed.

the lie of shame
I have been shaming myself about my lack of writing and I don't think I had even realized it - I was playing the loop about "how can you call yourself a writer when the only writing you do is a few words on Instagram. That's not what a real writer does. You are a fraud." and usually this is followed up with "You're going to fail. You'll never be good enough. You can't hack it." Or something like that. But my eyes are opening to how destructive a force this is. Shame is not our friend. Shame weighs us down. I was never once motivated to do something good by shame. Gentleness looks at a disaster of a day and "counts the wins" (as one of my favorite authors likes to say). Gentleness puts on the tea kettle and tucks me into bed and says "tomorrow you can try again". I can not say it enough how hard the last year and a half of homeschooling Josiah plus all of Grayson's medical drama. Writing has kind of fallen to the wayside. But other things deep inside of me have been growing. I get to a peek of them every once in awhile. Those deep things are the important things, and they'll get their day in the sun sooner or later.

I think that's all of the things I wanted to share tonight. It's super late so I'm going to bed. If you have something you'd like to share about this please send me a message via social media or leave a comment! This whole writing thing is hard. We could all use all of the encouragement we can get.