Losing my Mother: Life Lessons in the Midst of it All

One regular, mundane Sunday morning, the call came. The call I’d been dreading. The phone call that would tell me she was gone. The call that told me I’d lost my beloved mother to the other side. The call I knew would come, no matter how much I’d willed it not to. No matter how much I’d prayed it away.

My niece woke me up, tentatively. Scared to tell me my mom had lost her painful, wretchedly life-altering, and draining fight with heart disease and COPD. To tell me my mother had passed in the night. To tell me that life, as I knew it, had invariable and irrevocably changed. Mom was only 59; I'm not yet 40.

There’s nothing quite like watching your mom’s lifeless body being carried away by a funeral home staff that knew nothing about her. They knew nothing about the hell she’d been through---the years of loneliness, abuse, and sacrifice. They knew nothing about the strong, headstrong woman that raised two disabled kids on her own. They only knew that a woman had passed in the night on Memorial Day weekend. Not that they weren’t caring, they just didn’t know my mom like I did.

There’s nothing like choosing your mother’s funeral clothes, casket, and flowers, trying to make sure that they’re acceptable, appropriate, and right--that they’re remotely representative of and fitting for the soul of the strong, amazingly resilient woman that she was.

There’s nothing like seeing your mother’s body in a steel box and feeling like it’s your responsibility that she move into forever in the right way, without flaw. Not that my brother didn’t want to or try to help me, I just felt like it was my job as her only daughter. I became somewhat of a mother bear over my mom. An ever-watchful, over-protective watchdog. A perfectionist pain in the rear.

Despite all of the pain and grief I’ve been through and still have yet to go through, I’ve already learned some important lessons. These perspective-shifting tidbits are lessons I’m sure my mother would want EVERYONE to know.

Not Everyone Grieves the Same

I am an open griever---more like an “Oh-my-God-did-she-just-say that,” honest griever. I do not cut corners, nor sensor my feelings because I worry about someone taking offense. I have, and will always be, completely open, up-front, and in-your-face-honest about losing my mother. My family tends to push things down and not show feelings at all. No matter how much it kills them to do so. I’ve tried to get some to open up, but I have learned that some people just CANNOT do that. Life has dealt some people too much and they can’t process or take anymore, so just accept where they are.

Some of my family were very hesitant to come around after mom passed. It didn’t matter that mom had expressed in her will that she wanted certain things to go to certain people. It took nearly two months to get some family to set foot in my mom’s front yard.  I’m not saying anything derogatory, but merely that sometimes, for some folks...just entering a beloved person’s home is too much. Be patient. Be kind.

No one can truly understand another’s grief and loss this side of heaven. Everyone feels loss and pain differently. Grief is painful for everyone involved. Just try to love everyone where they are regardless of situation, history, and personal feelings.

Some People Need Extra Grace

Before mom had passed, a relative became somewhat of a surrogate child. This person was helpful to mom (and me, by extent) in many ways. My mother knew that this person was somewhat of a wandering soul. Somewhat of a roamer who had yet to find a home. Mom stated in her will to be kind and show love. We did that.

I'm 99.5% certain that my brother and I never treated anyone in any way that mom would be ashamed of. We were gracious. We were kind. We were understanding. When word blew in about some things that were said and things overheard, it got really hard.

I’ve decided to approach the situation with as much GRACE as possible. It’s a tricky spot that’s TBD---to be determined. I don’t really know what’s going to happen here. I’m trying to remember that everyone grieves in their own way and sometimes things are misheard or misinterpreted. Whatever the case, grace is necessary.

Grief Takes Time---Lots of It

Just because a loss happened some time ago doesn’t make it invalid. My mother died 2 and ½ months ago….it feels like forever, but it feels like yesterday. Mom’s headstone isn’t even up, but I feel like I should be moving forward. I think I only feel that way because that’s the way our society operates.

My mom was never one who sat around moping because life had dealt her a challenging hand or because someone had died. THE ONLY dream I’d had about mom happened about two weeks after she passed:

My brother, my sister-in-law, and myself were sitting in the kitchen at mom’s and I was telling her how upset I was when she died. I was saying how hard it was just to be in her house and how it was killing me to just touch her things. In the dream she gave me this appalled look. This look that said I’d lost my mind. Mom would’ve always, always, always wanted us to take care of our responsibilities first, no matter what else was going on in our lives.

From that day on, I took care of business as best I could, even though some days it kills me to do the basics. I have to remember that grieving takes time. I read that it can take up to three years to fully grieve losing a parent. It's completely normal to cry and be sad no matter how long it's been.

People Are Awkward Around the Grieving

I’ve found that sometimes the idea of grief and loss make some people downright uncomfortable. And really awkward. I was like this before I lost mom. Now I understand. I say all the time, “No one really understands until it’s their turn.” That’s more than true.

I’ve watched people shut down when I mention her. Others just give me this look. A look that says, “I can’t believe you’re talking about her all the time already.” My daughter told me not to make myself depressed when I’d said something about mom. What I am supposed to do? Pretend she didn’t exist? Pretend that we didn’t have 38 years of love, laughter, and fun together? Act like she’s still alive?

I get it. I do. I used to be that person. Let me tell you something though. Some people, especially me, cannot pretend death didn’t rock their lives or that their loved one never lived. They can’t. I can’t. I won’t.

Traditions Are Important

I miss my mother. Not only do I miss the mom that I spent so much time with the last year of her life, but I miss the mom who was a firecracker. The mom who was the life of the party. My mom, who lit up the room every time she sang karaoke. My mom, who spent countless and tireless hours preparing homemade dishes for Thanksgiving and Christmas dinners. The mom who drove me to Kansas City at 4 in the morning so many Wednesdays, so I didn’t lose my leg.

The mom who was scared to let me play basketball, yet cried happy, weepy tears to see me march with my high school drum and bugle corps. MY MOM...the ONLY parent who showed one year when it was 38-degrees and raining and bought ME and MY FRIENDS hot chocolate at the end of the parade. If I am half of the mother that she was, I will be amazing.

It’s become my mission to incorporate as much of my mother as I can into my life. I listen to music I haven’t heard since I was a kid much more now. I’m looking forward (yet not) to mixing her holiday things in with ours this year. We’re keeping the Halloween tradition of meeting at mom’s for dinner and then trick-or-treating through her neighborhood. Christmas and Thanksgiving are yet to be decided, but my brother and I know we want our kids to have the same wonderful experiences we did.

Grief Can be Mixed with Joy

I wish my mom was here several times every. single. day. But, at the same time, I could NEVER and would NEVER ask her to come back to the life she was forced to live at the end. A life where she was chained to an oxygen machine in her home and took too many meds just to survive. A life where a simple shower would render her breathless to the point where I didn’t know whether or not she would recover. A life that depended upon having enough oxygen tanks for the time we wanted to be out and about, just so she could live. That life wasn’t fitting for the strong, independent woman my mother was.

My mother didn’t exactly go the way she wanted, but she was so very, very close. She left this world in her home of 30+ years without outside nursing care. She passed with her ever-loyal Dachshund, Cookie, nearby. She was not too old, too weak, nor too independent to need anyone for 24-hour care. Like she said the last time we went to lunch, ”I’ll never get that old,” when she saw a woman just struggling to take a step.

No, my mom will never get old. Right now, she’s probably dancing at the feet of Jesus Christ or singing hymns to The Father alongside my grandparents and my uncle. She’ll never ever hurt again. She’ll never struggle just to breathe, or do a load of dishes, or to put the dogs in and out. Mom’s sole purpose now is a joy-filled life praising the Father and the Son. It doesn’t get much better than that.

I'm sure there's so much more I'll learn from this before it's my turn to go home, but for now, I'm grateful for these lessons.

What I've Learned From Each of my Kids.....so far.

I don't get asked why I have so many kids very often. I guess it's my resting-grouchy-face that causes people to think twice. When I do, I think of this answer comedian Jim Gaffigan when he was asked why he and his wife had so many kids:

"Well, why not? I guess the reasons against having more children always seemed uninspiring and superficial. What exactly am I missing out on? Money? A few more hours of sleep? A more peaceful meal? More hair? These are nothing compared to what I get from these five monsters who rule my life … each one of them has been a pump of light into my shriveled black heart."

Each of my kids has taught me many things about love, life, myself, and the world that I didn't know before. Here's what I've learned from each of my kids....so far. 

Eddie

I wasn't supposed to have children, so when Eddie entered the world, I knew he was a gift from God. I didn't realize that my heart could love so much when I first held him. I learned selflessness, sacrifice, and more about the love of God from this one little boy than I had in the 24 years before he came. If God loves me more than I love my kids, think of how deep that love must be. 

Eddie is an amazing child and deeply loves God; he reminds me that child-like faith is a wonderful thing. Eddie has more compassion and willingness to help others than many adults I know. I've learned to try and see the world (especially people) through a child's eyes and how Christ would see them with love.

Malakai

This girl continues to surprise me. Malakai was such a happy, smiley baby, so when the wailing, I-sound-like-a-fire-engine tantrums came, it was quite the surprise. Her toddler years were trying and I learned a great deal about patience and reliance on God to survive this girl. Don't get me wrong, she's grown into quite the young lady, but man, those years were hard. FYI...sometimes we still have siren-like fits, even now. 

One thing I'm learning from Malakai is how early girls begin criticizing themselves and their bodies. She's nine and already fights poor self-image. When I was nine, I didn't even care if my hair or teeth were brushed, much less whether or not people thought I was fat or stupid. I'm learning that a HUGE part of this little girl's self-image comes from her perception of mine. I've learned to embrace who God has made me to be, accept the body I've been given, and to nurture the spirit instead of obsessing over a few pounds (well, really, it's more than a few). I'm hoping this will help her see where true beauty lies.

Riley

For those of you who don't know, Riley is one of my adopted sons. He came to me at 20 months; he was barely walking, only saying a few words, and had been seriously neglected. Riley has some issues from the neglect and is often a challenge. I learned much more about patience and forgiveness while parenting this kid. 

I've also learned that sometimes people are made in a way that is so radically different from what you expect them to be. I've learned in parenting this kid that I needed work to change to reach him. When I started praying for me to love him how he needs to be loved and for the ability to reach him on a deeper level, things started to change. Sometimes when a situation is very difficult and nothing seems to work, maybe God needs to change us. 

Silas

This kid. AGH! Si's like pent-up dynamite in a pressurized can. When he came to me he was a tiny baby who was so withdrawn he didn't even cry. Now, he's the rowdy, loud kid I used to scowl towards at the store or in restaurants that would make me criticize his parents' disciplinary skills. I've learned a great deal of humility from parenting Silas, but also a great deal of compassion for other moms with challenging children.

The main thing I've learned from this kid is to let go of perfection. Perfection is an unattainable "standard" that America's mothers project. It's not possible folks. Before my boys came, I wanted to have the perfectly clean house, the perfectly organized life with perfect holidays and perfect kids. It took a long time for me to let go of that. I felt like an inadequate mom since my house was never perfectly clean and Silas generally behaves like a heathen on meth. Then at some point I got it. 

No one is perfect!! There was only one perfect person on the planet and He was God. I've learned that we're all imperfect and that's why we need Jesus Christ. I finally understand grace because God brought me a little boy that pushes me to my limits. Every. Single. Day. 

Sophie

If you've never read about Sophie's delivery experience, please do. From the day she was born, this child has radiated joy. Pure joy.  She smiles almost all the time and everything, I mean everything, makes her happy. Sophie's taught me so much about being JOYFUL and finding joy in the little things. I was missing my joy before she came and God used a surprise baby to help me find it. 

I've also learned that God never gives up on us, mo matter how far we stray. Sometimes I don't realize how far away I've gotten until I'm so far in the pit that it's completely dark. That's how things were before Sophie was born. God gave me this bright, beautiful reminder of His everlasting love, presence, and pursuit of relationship with me. 

I'm only 11 years into the lifelong parenting journey and I'm sure that God is going to teach me so much more through these five amazing children. Hopefully, I won't be bald from pulling my hair out when my last leaves for college. 

I Have a Bitterness Problem: Surrending Discontment

Over a year ago, I went to my church's womens' retreat. I had a two-month-old, preemie baby and four other kids at home and to tell the truth, I was mostly looking forward to sleeping all night and taking an uninterrupted nap, but I also knew I desperately needed something else. I needed to find out where and how I'd lost my joy and how to get it back.

I didn't have any reasons to be unhappy. I've been married to the same great guy for almost 15 years, my parents are alive and healthy, my kids are healthy and happy for the most part, and I'd just been through one of the most amazingly spiritual experiences in my life with the coming of my sweet Sophie. (SEE this post for more on that.)

My Bitterness Problem

I have a bitterness problem. I'm not ashamed to admit it either. Sometimes when it seems like all you've done is spin your wheels for about 10 years (mind you this is the ten years you've really been trying hard to do what God wants you to) and mix it with seeing your lack of accomplishments and all the overwhelming amounts of things that need to be done every. single. day. IT"S FRUSTRATING!!! And sometimes demoralizing, depressing, and down-right exhausting.

To make matters a little worse, living in this socially digital world, I see the crafts, playdates, background pics of immaculate homes, lack of enormous laundry piles and Christmas trees in February on my friends' pages. "Comparison is the thief of joy," said Theodore Roosevelt. I think nothing is more true.

In James 3:14, it says, "But if you harbor bitter envy...there you will find disorder and every evil practice." This is where the problems lies. Once I allow the bitterness to wiggle in, I start to lose many positive character traits like patience, kindness, empathy, and yes, finding joy in the simple blessings of life. James 14:30 says "envy rots the bones," meaning it rots you from the inside out. Even more, since the bones are what holds us upright, it destroys the very foundations of what keeps us standing at all.

Let's Take a Bible Story Trip

There are two stories in the Bible that, to me, really show what bitterness looks like. The first, is the Parable of the Lost Son, Jesus told. A father had two sons, one of which asked for his inheritance early, and left to squander it away on the wiles of the world (putting it mildly). Meanwhile, the other son stayed with his father, working the fields and doing anything and everything that his father needed. After some time, the wayward son spent all his money, ended up at rock bottom, and decided to return home. When the father saw his long-gone son, he ran to him and celebrated by giving him a ring, his robe, and slaughtering a fattened calf for a coming-home party. The "good" brother became angry and asked his father why he was so kind and excited to see the wayward son and celebrated when he'd been there the entire time working his tail (my paraphrase) off and got no such recognition. I'm the son who stayed, diligently working everyday waiting for someone to notice. When no one does, the seed of bitterness wiggles in.

The other story takes place with Jesus himself. He and his disciples were traveling, like they generally were, and along the way, Martha opened her home to them. During their stay, Martha's sister Mary sat at Jesus' feet and listened to what He had to say while Martha ran around like a chicken with her head cut off making preparations. Eventually, an exasperated Martha came to Jesus and said, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself?" This me on many days....a worn-out mom faced with too much to do that becomes embittered when no one voluntarily rises to the occasion.

I came across a passage in Lamentations 3 today that describes my bitterness problem to a tee: "I've been deprived of peace; I've forgotten what prosperity (the good life, success, abundance, accomplishment, good fortune...all synonyms) is. So I say, 'My splendor is gone and all that I hope for from the Lord.' I remember my affliction and my wandering, the bitterness and the gall. I will remember them and my soul is downcast within me.  This passage is the picture of MY bitterness problem, BUT it takes a turn here: Yet, I call this to mind and I have hope: Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail. They are new every morning; great is your faithfulness. I say to myself, "The Lord is my portion, therefor I will wait for Him."

At the retreat,  I remember ONE moment where, I was just talking with God like I do, asking him to help the bitterness go away and for my heart to be joyful again. I got a special gift when I heard, "Your joy is only found in me." I wanted to smack myself on the head and say, DUH! I've heard it a million times, but what does it mean to find my JOY in the Lord?

Surrendering Discontentment

I think my first and biggest step toward becoming joyful is to surrender discontentment. It's so easy to compare my life to others and think, wouldn't it be great if we had more money? A bigger house? Someone to help cook and clean everyday? Or if I had more energy? Free time? The list could go on and on and on. I believe without a doubt that God has me where He does because this is where I'm supposed to be. Psalm 90:17 says, "May the favor of the Lord our God rest on us, establish the work of our hands, yes, the work of our hands."

Does that mean I'm always contented with it? NO. But that's only because I choose not to be. I think contentment is a decision where to stop comparing your life to others or wishing you had things you don't and instead choosing to see things differently.

So today, I'm choosing to enjoy the sunshine and warmth, instead of worry about allergies, growing grass, and a very not-manicured lawn. I'm choosing to be glad that God provides ample clothing for my family for so little money, instead of complaining about laundry. I'm choosing to be thankful we have good and healthy food to eat, instead of being frustrated at a dirty kitchen. I'm choosing to be grateful my children are healthy and growing, instead of feeling peeved because my oldest need new shoes AGAIN. I'm choosing to rejoice that my Dad made it through surgery, instead of fretting over regrets that I couldn't be right beside him.

ABOVE ALL...I'm choosing to rest in the never-ending LOVE, GRACE, and MERCY from my Savior and lay my bitterness and discontentment at His feet. To find joy in the Lord, I have to learn to rest in Him. I have to learn to be still like Psalm 46:10, " Be still and know that I am God." This is a favorite verse of mine for many reasons, but even more so when I learned that the command of be still, rapha, means to cause yourself to let go or to become weak. I have to come before God as weak and willing to let go of my old habits and mentalities to begin to find the joy that I've lost.

Why I Grapple with Gay Marriage...The BIGGER Point

<<<DISCLAIMER>>>

Before you read this, know that I am a Christian. I believe the Bible as truth, spoken by God to the men that wrote it. I don't for a second believe that throughout history Biblical truths were lost in translation and morphed into something that reflects cultural norms. So, what I'm saying is, if you're going to judge me because of my religious beliefs, more power to you. I'm writing this because I have a bigger point to get across which I'll get to towards the end of this post and if you can't get to the end because you disagree with my PERSONAL beliefs, then by all means, please stop reading NOW and save us both the drama. I don't want drama, this is just a post about me wrestling things around in my head. Again...if you start some drama by suggesting that I'm intolerant, ignorant, or other stereotypical adjective, please don't read this post.

Biblical Translations and Truth

The earliest copies of the Jewish Bible, or Tanakh, are the Aleppo Codex and Leningrad Codex written in Hebrew over 3000 years ago. The Dead Sea Scrolls discovered in 1947, represent another early copy of the Jewish Bible and are believed to be between 2000-2100 years old. The original text of the scrolls was written in Hebrew, Aramiac, and Greek and encompasses most of the Old Testament and is an accurate translation from the Tanakh. The next historical hard copy of the Bible is the Septuagint, translated from Hebrew to Greek between 300-200 BC because many Jews were beginning to lose Hebrew as their common language. This transcript includes all 39 copies of the original Old Testament.

My point is: current translations of the Word are accurate translations of the earliest copies of the Bible. Anyone doubting Biblical translation can trace verses and books back to these early copies. There are so many ancient copies of the Bible that all reflect the original text that's make it hard to dispute that current translations were changed. The idea that the Bible has changed over time is true only in that it's now available in many languages and versions, so all peoples of Earth can read it, yet untrue in that it's been altered from the original text to accommodate today's "intolerant" attitude.

Biblical Views on Homosexuality

Most everyone knows the story of Sodom and Gomorrah in the Old Testament as this is the main story Christians use to reference homosexuality. To sum it up, God saw the sin of Sodom as "so grievous" (Genesis 18:20) and decided He should destroy the city. The only direct reference that I found to homosexuality is where the men of Sodom try to get at the angels sent by God to save Lot's family. The men said to Lot, "Where are the men who came to you tonight? Bring them out to us, so we can have sex with them." (Genesis 19:5). I would bet there was much more going on in Sodom and Gomorrah than just homosexual relations, this is just the one point that God chose to bring out in the story. I know this story well, as it's the one my mom used to spout at me when she would come across a gay person.

I decided when the Supreme Court made their ruling that I would do my own Biblical research because I needed to get my own perspective. Instead of starting with the law of the Old Testament, I wanted to start in the New Testament, written AFTER the death of Christ covered all law with grace. Romans chapter 1 delved into the wrath of God against mankind. In a nutshell, because of humankind's godlessness and worship of idols, God "gave them over in the sinful desires of their hearts to sexual impurity," (Romans 1:24). The text goes on to talk about women lying with women and men with men, but also covers a multitude of sin including: gossip, slander, arrogance, ruthlessness, heartlessness, disobedience, and faithlessness. Okay....this seems to cover many sins, not just homosexuality.

Christ on Homosexuality

I wanted to know what  Jesus said about homosexuality because the common belief is that He never spoke on it. In fact, Christ did speak on it, but because of translation, it's not as direct as most people would like.

The Word

"In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God," (John 1:1). The Word is a Biblical name for Jesus, meaning that Christ was there at the creation of the Earth, and was part of the triune God from the get-go. This equates to the fact that Jesus was there when the words of the Old Testament were written, at the time of Sodom and Gomorrah, and since He is God, he condemned it as well. This seems like a far stretch for people who don't see Christ as God or as being present at the creation of the universe. I do believe he was there, so this isn't as hard for me.

Greek Translation

For a more, to-the-point statement, look to Matthew. In Chapter 15, Jesus is being questioned by the Pharisees (high-level Jewish priests) and teachers about the disciples not washing their hands before they eat which was a tradition of their elders. Jesus calls out these men stating that they use scripture for their own benefit and only pull out the parts they want (many do this even now). Jesus went on to say that what goes into a man's mouth cannot make him unclean, but rather the things that come out of a man's mouth come from the heart which in itself is sinful. My Bible states, "For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false testimony, slander."

The italicized phrase above doesn't indicate homosexuality, right? You have to look back at to some of the ancient texts and culture to get the real meaning. During the time when Christ spoke these words, he knew the culture surrounding him and chose his words carefully. The italicized phrase is translated from the word porneus, a word used over the doors of Roman brothels where all manner of sexual practices happened including premarital sex, bestiality, pedophilia, and homosexuality. Christ did not use this term without knowing its meaning in the culture around him.

THE BIGGER POINT

I know some gay couples and some bisexual couples. They are fabulous people who work very hard to make this world a better place. They are more like Christ (being loving, kind, helping the weak, poor, and orphans) than some Christians I know. Therein lies my grappling point. While I believe homosexuality to be Biblically wrong, I also don't think that Christ ever intended people like this from Westboro Baptist to protest in his name.

This type of behavior is just awful and exactly what gives the Christian church a bad name.

My bigger point is: Christians shouldn't pass judgement on others. I'll be the first to say I've done it. I do it. I'm very, very guilty of this particular sin. Westboro Baptist folks: Your hate and judgement is also a sin!! The problem with society as a whole is we tend to compartmentalize and give weight to sin. God doesn't do this. This, I suppose, is why in the story of Sodom and Gomorrah, God chose to include many different sins, not just homosexuality. God hates the little white lies we tell as much as he hates murder, rape, incest, and child abuse. We, as a society, give weight to sin, not God. All sin is equal in his eyes and should be in ours. I try to  be kind, giving, loving, like Christ with everyone. Do I succeed? Not always. Definitely not always.
I am human and filled with a sinful heart, just like those that Christ spoke of in Matthew 15.

Do I think gay couples should be able to get married? Sure. Before the right-wingers fly off the handle, let me explain. I read a story about two men who had been together for decades. Because they weren't married, one partner's sister took control of her brother's bank accounts, his health decisions, and ultimately evicted one partner from her brother's (their) home because the current laws allowed her to. HORRIBLE. She shouldn't have been allowed to override the powers of attorney and other legal documents this couple had in place just because they were gay. Gay couples deserve the same legal protection that heterosexual couples do. All people deserve protection and basic human rights, not just heterosexual folks.

There lies my conundrum. While I struggle with Biblical truth, I also believe it's God's job to judge sin, not mine. It's my job to love EVERYONE and treat EVERYONE with kindness and respect, regardless of sexual orientation, race, creed, etc. Christ loved sinners....THANK GOD! He hung out with them often. In many New Testament stories, he taught about seeking out the lost and greeting them with open arms, not picketing with hate speech. This is where a lot of us Christians go wrong and give our Savior a bad name. Ultimately, we will all stand before God and face the judgement for our sins. I just hope when I do, He sees a life full of love for the lost, the poor, the broken, and even....(insert gasp here) homosexuals.

On a side note and perhaps in another post: the immediate pigeon-holing and labeling that comes as a result of believing in the Bible and trying to follow its principals is just as intolerant and "hate-filled". I'm sure, despite my disclaimer at the top, someone will have something snarky or hateful to say which is the same behavior the Westboro Baptist people tend to show, but in reverse. Interesting how it's fine to treat Christians terribly and immediately label us as hatemongers and bigots, but not okay for Christians to speak out on anything that we believe in, huh?

photo credit: <a href="http://www.flickr.com/photos/chada/4313995935/">chada</a> via <a href="http://photopin.com">photopin</a> <a href="http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-nd/2.0/">cc</a>

Things You Shouldn't Say to a Mom with More Than Two or Three Kids....

I have five kids. Yes, it's a lot of work. Yes, I'm busy. Lately I've grown a bit tired of the stares when we take them all to Wal-Mart like the monkeys escaped from the zoo. When you have more than three kids, you hear these things ALL THE TIME!! Little remarks meant to be funny or inspiring are really just something we hear a lot. I mean a lot!

1. Do you know what causes that? 

Really? Of course I know what causes babies...I've had three. We all went to junior high and high school where we were subjected to corny, albeit informative, reproductive films. Those of us who had anatomy and physiology in college got another in depth look into what causes babies. So, YES!!!! We know what causes it! 

Some of us choose to have bunches of kids and some of us never dreamed we'd have as many as we do. I was one of the latter...I wanted to be a career mom who made tons of money and paid someone else to raise my babies. God had something else in mind. I figured out eight years ago that I love being a mom and was lead to fostering which resulted in kids three and four. My sweet Pretty Little was a surprise. 

Needless to say....please don't ask us that. We've heard it a hundred times over and it's old. Instead ask us about our day and treat us like adults instead of uneducated reproductive machines. 

2. You must have your hands full.

Of course I have my hands full!! I've got five kids under the age of 10...my hands were full six years ago when I had two kids. You cannot imagine the sheer energy it requires to keep up with laundry, dishes, cleaning, appointments, parenting, and discipline that goes into caring for a child...times 5. I feel like the plate spinner that's constantly running from plate to plate trying to keep them all spinning without allowing any to fall and break. Only I have about 25 plates going at any given time. 

For example, in the winter I wash, fold, and put away approximately 98 socks every week. That's only if winter is mild and doesn't require more than one pair of socks to keep my toes warm. Needless to say, I love summer for that reason alone. 

Instead of marveling at all we do, ask us if we need help! I, for one, would be unbelievable grateful if someone asked to help me fold my laundry or watch the baby an afternoon so I could take a long, uninterrupted nap. 

3. You're such a SUPERMOM!

It's a nice compliment, it really is. I like to hear this one because it's nice to know that some people think I've got it all together, but in reality, I'm not even close. Not even remotely close. It can appear that way on the outside because we made it to church on time with all the kids dressed, fed, and alive, but really they desperately need baths, we had five different meltdowns while getting ready, and they fought all the way there. 

In reality, most moms with kids (any number, even one) feel like we're failing at times. Me, I feel that way often. On any given morning, there are piles of laundry in the hall to be done, a pile on the couch to fold, and some waiting to be put away. My house is so rarely clean (I mean clean like the laundry is done, bathrooms clean, and floor mopped...deep clean? What's that?) that I have to celebrate on Facebook. This doesn't cover when I totally lose my patience and have an exorcist moment with the full head-spin and lightning bolts from my eyes. 

Thanks for the compliment, but in reality, I'd like for someone to ask how they can help or just give me a big, bear hug and some simple encouragement. 

4. Don't call me a crazy kid lady

A dear friend that I truly love cracked this one off. I don't collect kids like single, elderly women collect cats. I don't need to have people around me. In fact, I love to be alone. I always have. It's quiet, the work I do stays done, and there's no one wiping snot or some other unknown substance on my clothes when I'm by my self and if there is...at least I know what said substance is. 

I know this person meant this to be a funny joke meant in love, but it actually hurt. I never dreamed I would have this many children. We were DONE after two, but God knew that two little boys would need me and my husband, and now they're ours. Then, we had our little surprise who's God's gift in so many ways. 

Please, please if you have a snarky remark you think is funny, think it over before you say it. You may not mean it to be hurtful, but it might be. 

5. I don't have the patience for that. 

I hear this one a lot. A LOT! I mean, who has the patience for five kids unless you're Jesus. Really? I'm not a patient person. Years of retail management have led to me expecting things to be done right away and to my standards, which with five kids, are unreasonably high. 

I lose it. OFTEN. Sometimes I lose it so bad, I feel terrible for days afterward. Luckily,my kids and husband know enough of God's grace and love to forgive me during my less-than-desirable moments. I'm a human being. I get mad, upset, and downright furious sometimes. I'm neurotic about cleanliness--which isn't good when you have five kids! 

We don't have the patience for it either. Ask us how you can pray for our family instead. 

6. How do You do It?

I get this one almost every day. My answer, "lots and lots of prayer." AND lots and lots of coffee and an extra dose of Vitamin B. I've yet to master setting apart a time to pray in my busy days. I have a running conversation with the Lord all day every day. I talk to him in the car, while I'm folding laundry, rocking the baby, or doing dishes. Even while I'm scrubbing toilets. Most of the time, my running narrative is a nearly constant conversation with God. I couldn't survive otherwise. 

I don't do it well most days. Some days just keeping the kids alive and the house from being so gross we get bugs is the best I can do, but the little moments like Sophie's belly laughs, Silas' three-year-old bear hugs, and Eddie, my oldest, winning The Golden Rule award make it worth it. Like I'm doing something right. 

So next time you see a tired, haggard mom toting three, four, five, or more kids....instead of staring at us like we stole all the chimps from the zoo...smile and ask her what you can do to help. Or just tell her she's doing all right. Or just move along. We're not a zoo exhibit, we're just regular people who happen to have a large family. 

Today and Every Day

I felt led to start this blog after the experiences I had during my pregnancy with my baby, Sophie. For those of you who don't know, Sophie is the last of five children that call me mom. I've got three kids that are God's biological blessings and two kids that came from God through fostering.

Long before Sophie's birth and even before her pregnancy, I was wandering further and further away from God. I'd gotten lazy with all of the kids being in school, so I spent too much time sleeping instead of being a good steward, a good mother, and a good wife. I think the enemy has used my love of sleeping as a tool to lure me away from Bible studies, church, and other groups like MOPS, where I am encouraged in my walk. I stopped listening to Christian music for the most part and was lured away, once again, by secular music. It's an easy road to start down and before you know it, you haven't listen to a praise CD since the last VBS---a year ago. The lack of church, Bible study, prayer and Godly friends brought me to a place of bitterness and unhappiness. Top that off with four kids and rough pregnancy and you've got: One. Hot. Mess.

That was me in November of last year--pregnant, tired, and miserable. Then it got worse, but better. I'll explain. I'd gone to the doctor for my 34 week check up. I thought my blood pressure was high because my ankles were cankles and they'd never been that huge. My BP was 170/92. WOW! They sent me to labor and delivery and I was admitted later that day. I knew Sophie would be okay if she was born at this time, but I was scared for both of us. I was scared to lose her and scared for my other children and my husband to lose us both. The doctor ran more tests and determined I had severe preeclampsia and needed to deliver for the safety of us both.

The induction was S-L-O-W. Bodies aren't ready for delivery that early and don't care for it either. They pumped me full of magnesium in hopes to bring my BP down to a less-dangerous level and pitocin to get labor going. Finally after 24 hours of contractions, my water broke on its own. I was in horrible pain and asked the nurses to have the anesthesiologist to give me more "juju" in my epidural. The doctor checked my dilation and I'd gone from a 0 to a 6 in a half hour. More intense, excruciating pain. Now we're at a 9 and the nurses are holding my legs together because she's ready to come out.

I was pretty much delirious at this point from the pain and the Fentanyl I received while waiting for more juju.  I can remember being calm, so calm. Not from drugs. Not from breathing exercises. It was ONLY from the presence of Christ. I tell you He was in the room. No, I didn't see him, but I know, without a smidgen of doubt, HE was in that room. Since labor had progressed as fast as lightning streaking across the Missouri sky, I was pushing just minutes later. Andrew was on my left and Jesus was at my right. Never before in my life have I felt the clear presence of Christ, but I knew he was there, beside me as I delivered. I cried out, "Jesus,  I need you," before my last push because I didn't have the strength for pushing or more pain at that point.

Sophie came out perfect...wide awake, alert, and quiet. It scared me. I thought there was something wrong since she didn't cry. At 5 lb 3 oz, she was what her daddy dubbed a "little, bitty baby." They whisked her away to the NICU soon after and I didn't see her again for about 12 hours. When a wonderful, kind NICU nurse named Mindy brought her to see me the next day, I knew that this little, tiny, perfect baby had brought me back home.

Later that night when I could finally get out of bed. I showered and went to see her. This tiny, helpless baby lay beneath UV lights and heaters with wires and tubes attached to her. It was awful, terrifying, and scary, yet I knew she was and would be just fine. I picked her up and she started to fuss. I put her inside my shirt, so we were skin-to-skin and I sang "How Great is Our God." Sophie immediately quit crying and went right to sleep. The nurse said that's the most peaceful she'd been all day.

She never needed a breathing tube or IV feeding. She surpassed all of the doctors' expectations. I say, "she rocked the NICU so hard they kicked her out," at four weeks before they expected. Now, at nearly six months, Sophie weighs nearly 20 lbs, rolls over, sleeps through the night, and eats baby food. You can't tell she was early at all--except for she's a little small.

This entire experience brought me back to the Christian "walk" where Jesus is at my side, gently nudging me in the right direction. With my eyes on the cross, I'm moving closer to Him, rather than farther away. Every time I look at my precious baby girl I know, without a doubt, that part of the reason she's here is to remind me where I belong. I know He has great plans for her and I pray for an impactful, Godly life for her, but for today (and every day), she's my smiling, giggling, chubbalicious reminder of Christ's eternal forgiveness and pursuit of me.