grace – Motherhood & Mindfulness

Tomorrow, I will do better.

“Tomorrow is a new day with no mistakes in it… yet.”

― L.M. Montgomery, Anne of Green Gables

Growing up, my mom would speak these words to me, providing the comfort and encouragement I needed to let the heartache of that day fall away and turn towards the hope of a fresh start in the morning. Curling up on the couch and watching the Anne of Green Gables movies with my mom was a favorite past time of ours. So when my mom spoke these words over me, it wasn’t just the motherly reassurance I received, but in those moments I could literally hear Anne’s voice and feel the hope and inspiration that I felt every time I watched the movies.

Whether it was the mistakes I personally made that caused heartache, or the pain inflicted from others, the hope of morning, a clean slate, the sun rising again making all things new once more was, and still is of great comfort. I think it is safe to assume that the majority of people would gladly welcome the offer of a new day, or a second chance when they themself are to blame for the heartache of their present day.

The other day, Garrett had made a pretty poor choice out of anger and lost some technology privileges as a result. The pleading that resulted was intense. “Mom, please give me another chance! I am SOOOOOO sorry. Please, Please forgive me!”

Side note- Finding a child’s “currency” when it comes to consequences is priceless. However, our hope is to not only discipline using cause and effect but helping our kids to understand how the heart is involved as well. With developmental delays due to hearing loss and social weaknesses due to ASD and ADHD, teaching this has felt impossible at times. So when Garrett’s grief went beyond the loss of his ipad to grief over how he hurt me, I felt like we struck gold. As we cuddled at bedtime that evening, without prompting from me, He apologized again and told me that tomorrow was going to be a better day.

On a similar note, Jackson was having a particularly challenging afternoon the following day. After enough exhaustion, I got down on my knees, hands on his shoulders, guided his eyes to mine and said, “Jackson, it is OK to feel frustrated, but it is NOT ok to hit or yell at Mommy.” His reply was, “OK Mom, Tomorrow I will try again.”

I laughed at his reply and said, “Jackson, you can try again RIGHT NOW!”

Jackson is tired of hearing the word, “no.” (haha)

It seems the hope for a better tomorrow begins at a young age. The idea of second chances that come with “tomorrow” is so full of hope and promise. Maybe this is why the “New Year” brings so much excitement and anticipation for goals to be set and yesterday’s to be washed away.

There is something sacred about the first few pages of a notebook, or a brand new planner unmarked and uncreased. Something so magical about the quiet of a new day, drinking a warm cup of coffee in solitude. Could I even go as far as to say there is something sacred about a house after you just finished cleaning and everything is in it’s rightful place? When nothing is out of order, the air smells clean and/or scented and the house is quiet and empty, except for you-admiring the work your hands have done and enjoying it’s newness.

I think it is innate for us to desire the purity of newness, or something being “made new.”

In the Bible it says, “In the beginning, God created the heavens and the earth. The earth was without form and void, and darkness was over the face of the deep. And the Spirit of God was hovering over the face of the waters. And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. And God saw that the light was good. And God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.” Genesis 1:1-31

God stood back and reflected on what He made. Something new and untouched. And what was before is noted as well, “darkness,” “without form,” “void.”

When I step back to enjoy the results of a clean house, a new planner, or a new day- the peace I feel is tangible because I remember what the chaos before felt like. I know the peace is momentary. I know that the pages will be written on, or bent or torn. I know the house will be dirtied and things left out on the floor, and the day will move beyond that “just woke up- first cup of coffee moment.” But the peace, for a moment, erases the darkness or void from the “pages before.”

There are so many pages I wish could be erased. Pages where my sin is plain for all to see. Pages filled with regret, or shame. There are moments that I hope my children will never remember. Moments where I lost my patience, and reacted adding anger to the chaos instead of providing comfort that their little hearts so desperately needed.

There are pages of heartache that I wish never to read again. The ones that your brain reads on replay without your permission of past trauma or grief.

Sometimes I think we can become so overcome by our pages of late that we begin to dread the pages of tomorrow. Assuming that we know exactly what they hold, and if our assumptions are correct, it will just be a continuation of our yesterday and one that we do not want to repeat. We can go through seasons where it feels as if life is a single day of misery stuck on repeat and we fear going to bed because we know that it will begin again all too soon.

Maybe that’s why so many people stay up long into the night binge-watching shows on Netflix. We try to keep a good feeling or experience going as long as we can because for a moment, it feels like we actually have control and are not just at the mercy of our circumstances.

I find it interesting that in Matthew 6:34 He says “Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself. Each day has enough trouble of its own.” I completely agree that each day has enough trouble of it’s own, yet I am not sure I have lived one day without worrying about tomorrow. Sometimes the tomorrow I worry about is the one that is actually 24 hours away. Often though, it is the far off tomorrows that worry me the most.

I worry about the tomorrow’s for my children. Am I providing enough love and grace, yet also enough wisdom and discipline? How soon will Jackson lose his vision? Will Garrett grow up mentally and spiritually secure? Will he believe in the good in himself that we see or will he become jaded by the struggles and consequences that often result and go hand in hand with some of his ADHD/ASD behaviors? Will Gracelyn resent us or feel bitter because being the sibling of two younger brothers with extra needs can take such a toll? Will our marriage remain strong and will we remain steadfast in the midst of all of life’s challenges?

Our sweet Gracelyn, I’m thinking God lead us to her name for a reason.

Or even worries as simple as, “Lord-am I gonna make it through this day? This hour? This minute?”

As heavy-hearted as I might be at the end of a day, I cannot imagine going to sleep without the ability to talk to my Heavenly Father. In the evening I can say it all in prayer. I can praise Him because I know deep in my heart He is good no matter what. I can ask for forgiveness for all the ways I bent to my flesh that day. I can cry out for things to be different, for strength or comfort for myself or for others. And I can ask for His blessing over my tomorrow.

And when I awake, I can give thanks for a new day. For the sun rising again. For a fresh start. Even when I don’t feel it, often the act of giving thanks inspires hopes and strengthens faith. Lamentations 3:21-23 says, “But this I call to mind, and therefore I have hope: The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.” When it is hard to believe that hope is possible, I can recall on His faithfulness that I KNOW I have experienced. I can remember the daily grief after we returned from overseas, unsettled, displaced, unsure of what was to come. Each day felt like we were no closer to getting answers on the future for our family. I can reflect on that season from where I stand now, a place where so many of those unanswered prayers during that time are now answered.

Isaiah 42:16 says, “And I will lead the blind in a way that they do not know, in paths that they have not known I will guide them. I will turn the darkness before them into light, the rough places into level ground. These are the things I do, and I do not forsake them.” He has done this time and time again and we MUST practice remembrance or we we fall prey to despair and bitterness.

I remember a day when I felt like I would never be able to exercise again. Now I am in the best shape of my life.

I remember a day when I wondered if Jackson would ever speak with ease, and now he speaks full sentences.

I remember a day when I felt so hopeless in my ability to care for both Garrett and Jackson, now they both have an incredible professional care team to support us.

I remember the day when I felt like I would never overcome my fear of moving overseas, and we lived overseas for almost a year!

I remember a day when I felt like I would never sleep through the night again, now our firstborn is 10 years old and we have 3 children who sleep through the night.

I think it is important to practice remembrance. To recall the grief and the sorrow of our yesterday’s so that we can celebrate the blessing of our todays and tomorrows. This process seems natural at the start of a new year, or on our birthday. Because the newness seems more tangible. A brand new year-2022. A brand new age- 39. But imagine if we could embrace a brand new day the same way.

Because He made “Day” and “Night” ON PURPOSE.

“And God said, “Let there be light,” and there was light. And God saw that the light was good. And God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light Day, and the darkness he called Night. And there was evening and there was morning, the first day.” Genesis 1:1-31

The Bible is filled with verses about light. Scriptures full of how Jesus is the light and whoever believes in Him, lives in the light. Verses about how HE is the light to our path, and HIS light erases the darkness. Every new day is new light shining and removing all that was dark.

God is the God of second chances. His mercies are new every morning. He has made a way for us to be made new, to become a new creation. On this side of heaven we will sin, and He knows this, and provides us with new mercies every day. He does not want us held captive to yesterday, And HIS promise of salvation is eternal.

May we embrace this new year, this new month, this new day, heck-even this new hour, with hearts full of hope and the belief that joy can be restored. May we believe that this season of sorrow or grief will not last forever, and there is a day coming where our hearts will feel light once more. May we believe in the possibility of achieving this year, what has felt impossible. May we reach for those goals we once held so high but have since discarded out of fatigue from not reaching them yet.

May we find hope in the God that hears every cry, knows your every day, and has never left nor forsaken you.

May we find hope in tomorrow once more!

All the Feelings

As we all know, kids have so many different emotions that often shift from one to the next in a matter of minutes, if not seconds! The other day, after numerous requests, Jackson asked if the time had finally arrived for our family to go mini-golfing as promised. Upon receiving his long-awaited yes, he shouted with glee and a giant smile took over his face. But within seconds, tears started to fill his eyes unexpectedly. He said, “Mom, I’m so happy, why am I sad?”

This particular moment reminded me of when Gracelyn was a toddler and had a similar experience. At the time she was our only child and spent most of her time with me at home. So whenever Adam would get home from work, he would enter the house and make a great gesture of open arms ready to embrace her. I would bring her to the door and say with great excitement (for not only her-but myself as well) “Daddy’s home!”

To our surprise, her response was very different than we imagined. At first, she would run to the door with excitement and joy, but as soon as that initial moment passed, she would revert to a strange sadness, and then emit a sudden “No” followed by a stomp off. It took us some time to realize that she did not mean to reject Daddy, nor disappoint. She was simply overcome with emotions. ALL of the emotions in fact, and her little brain did not know how to process, prioritize nor what to do with “All the feelings.”

Jackson’s sweet celebration and relief after waiting 6 long weeks to earn the sportsmanship medal!

It’s a strange sensation to handle- feeling more than one emotion simultaneously. We are all familiar with the phrase “happy tears” to describe tears that accompany joy of some kind, but sometimes that experience of feeling both incredible joy and intense grief at the same time can feel too big for one heart to manage. However strange, or uncomfortable it may be, I know that it is not isolated to our home or family members. I have witnessed friends and family members juggle this emotional experience as well as often hear this theme of emotional dichotomy in most songs on the radio. Most recently, in this Christmas season, I have heard this experience mentioned in the lyrics for the majority of Christmas songs that are current today, as well as the traditional songs that have graced this season for decades.

“Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas” is one song that I heard the other day and couldn’t help but hear and feel ‘All the Feelings’ as it played over the car radio. More than once the song makes mention of Christmas being a time where your troubles are out of sight or miles away; that Christmas is a time where things return to the “way it was.” Families gather and experience love and joy, but those reunions bring memories of the “way things were.”

Whether these lyrics are relatable for you, I think it’s fair to say that it is hard to experience that “Merry Little Christmas” feeling without recalling in your heart and bones the grief that our “troubles” left behind. The two co-exist it seems.

Experiencing the joy of my 8 year-old still inviting me to come to school functions! Gingerbread House day!

For some, the joy of Christmas time may be easy to experience. For others, the holiday season can be a reminder of all that is lost. But for most, Christmas time brings both feelings of joyful anticipation and grief. The season has a way of amplifying what is lost while simultaneously making your heart realize and appreciate those around you more than normal. Plainly put, I think Christmas time brings a more clear lens on life that includes the very real emotional dichotomy that exists.

Dichotomies like overwhelming grief when receiving news that a loved one has terminal cancer, but then experiencing incredible gratitude for the sweetness of time spent together as a result.

Or the heartache that can overtake you when receiving an intense diagnosis for your child and then the wonder upon the wisdom and clarity that the news brings; enabling you to not only better understand your child and more accurately meet their needs, but an increase in love for them that you never thought possible.

I can imagine the majority of people experience “High highs and Low lows” during the other 11 months of the year as well, but at Christmas time- whether you are in a season of high OR low, you feel them both and they are both amplified.

Jackson with an “unexpected” sad face getting his photo taken in the mouth of a shark!

“High highs and Low lows” has become a common phrase we have used this year when others have asked how our family is doing. And to be honest, I have been tempted to view life through the lens of dread, fearing hope because I have gotten so used to the “other shoe dropping.” It can feel as if it would be easier to protect yourself from the pain and disappointment that the unexpected can bring if you forego hope and choose to live jaded, skeptical, sarcastic and cynical. It appears too risky to choose hopefulness.

Hope is kind of like a balloon that wants to fly high in the sky and float. Hope says, I don’t know what I will encounter, but right now- I feel joy and I WANT TO embrace it and move forward. Hope knows that fear is real and the unexpected might happen, but even in the face of that risk it chooses to be brave in order to embrace joy.

Fear is like the weight that keeps the balloon from flying away, keeping hope locked in the ground. Fear tells you to give up, stop trying, stop “fighting the good fight” and let sorrow win.

I had been struggling with this internal battle, feeling like I should “let my balloon fly” but wanting to keep it tethered for fear of future heartache. And then one day, in the midst of carrying the weight of it all…

The heaviness and intensity of having 2 boys with special needs,

The reality of a loved one’s suffering and limited time,

The consistent financial tension that living on a one-income ministry salary can bring,

and add to that ANYTHING ELSE UNEXPECTED that we just do not feel any margin for..

… I cried out to the Lord in surrender.

I cried out completely overcome with it all, feeling as if there was no rest in sight and completely devoid of hope.

And in His great mercy, HE answered and I saw our “High highs and Low lows from a new perspective.

One of our recent trips to visit Gramma, treasuring these visits and these views.

I had been battling the great weight of those lows that just kept piling up. I had felt angry and frustrated that as soon as I would experience a “win” of some kind, be it good news, positive feedback or especially a day with no phone calls from the school, like clockwork- something bad would happen within hours, sometimes even minutes of embracing joy.

But HE answered the prayers of my heart and reminded me that my struggle was not unseen by my God.

He gave me eyes to see and I finally saw HIM above everything else.

I saw that,

HE KEPT showing up.
For every victory that was overcast by another trial, ANOTHER VICTORY WOULD COME.
HE never stopped bringing joy.
HE never stopped providing.
He never stopped healing.
He never withheld recovery.
We were never forsaken.

The “High highs” are proof that God keeps showing up. As much as pain keeps coming, so does HE. He even tells us this in John 16:33, “In this world you will have pain, fear not- I have overcome the world.” We are reminded of this in the book of Revelation. As believers in Christ, we KNOW how this story ends. And it’s not on a low.

The magic of bubbles and sunsets and an incredible big sister who is always ready to blow the bubbles.

For the people of Israel, the birth of Jesus came after a record of lows that beats any complaint I have ever had or heard of. 400 years between the last prophet and Jesus’ birth. Often referred to as the “Silent years” – the people of Israel experienced great loss, suffering and displacement. I think the song “O Come, O come, Emmanuel”, A Christian hymn for Advent and Christmas explains it so well:

“O come, O come Emmanuel,
And ransom captive Israel,
That mourns in lonely exile here,
Until the Son of God appear.
Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel
Shall come to thee, O Israel.”

Emmanuel means “God is with us.”

A mourning Israel in captivity struggled to remain steadfast in their faith.
Prayers were lifted in desperation for the Lord to save His people. Yet in some scripture and in this hymn, great sorrow is expressed and yet followed by words like “Rejoice!”
The people of Israel did not pretend when they spoke to their God. They trusted HIM with their true feelings, but continued to show him Honor and Praise and continued to offer their Faith believing that HIS promises are true. Promises they clung to like in Isaiah 9:6 , “For to us a child is born, to us a son is given, and the government will be on his shoulders. And he will be called Wonderful Counselor, Mighty God, Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.”
Promises confirmed and prayers answered in in Luke 2:11 such as,

“Today in the town of David, a Savior has been born to you; he is the Messiah, the Lord.”

Every time the story of the birth of Jesus is told, it holds a sense of mystery, wonder, peace and hope. The story involves people ranging from shepherds to Kings, from carpenters to Wise Men, from Babies to Angels. It is a story for every person. And I believe the magic of Christmas is the Christ child.

I saw a quote the other day that truly stuck with me and encouraged me to embrace the season of Advent. It said, “It has never been a mother’s job to make childhood so magical that your children don’t see their great need for Jesus too. Our children do not need a perfect holiday; they need a perfect Savior. Every unmet expectation, every holiday frustration, every tear or argument is a chance to show our children the reason we needed our hearts to be rescued.” Katie Blackburn, Risen Motherhood.

I confess, I have always celebrated the magic of Christmas in all of its ways. I am honestly not sure when I will tell my kids the truth about Santa or their Elf on the Shelf. I adore Christmas movies, and stories, and twinkling lights. But I also adore sharing with my children the idea that maybe Santa brings Gifts to everyone around the world to invite them into the celebration that is the birth of Jesus, the birth of the Savior, who is for ALL peoples.

How the Elves were found on December 22, 2021- morning after all 3 of our kids went down with the stomach bug.

In Ecclesiastes it says, “He has made everything beautiful in its time. He has also set eternity in the human heart; yet no one can fathom what God has done from beginning to end.”

I think that the reason every individual and people as a whole can feel the dichotomy of joy and grief, and can experience these emotions magnified during Christmas, is because God set eternity in the hearts of men. He left a mark in all of us. A mark that reminds us that there is something more than this world can offer. A mark that provides us with a sense of mystery and wonder when contemplating the birth of Christ. A mark that deep down tells us that we are HIS creation. And as our Creator, HE blessed us with the ability to be cognizant of Him and to feel drawn to the hope of His existence, His Sovereignty, and His Savior.

Advent, the season leading up to Christmas is a season of joyful anticipation. Advent in Latin means “Coming,” referring to the coming of our Savior. I can imagine the birth of Jesus, the arrival of our Savior was a time of joy unimaginable. But that joy came from a place of answered prayer, after great suffering and years and years of feeling abandoned. The joy and grief go hand in hand. Grief amplifies Joy, and Joy gives hope in the ability to endure grief once more, if it should come.

A common Advent scripture, Lamentations 3:22-24 says, “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; therefore I will wait for Him.”

I pray this verse could be your anthem in times of grief and your song in times of Joy. And I pray you experience the wonder, mystery and hope that is Christmas, the coming of our Savior Jesus Christ, who WILL come again, and make all things new.

Merry Christmas, Blessings, and Happy New Year!

Grace in the weeds.

The first time I heard the expression, “In the weeds” was in reference to a server at a restaurant being completely overwhelmed with orders and people. When I became a mother, I thought of this expression often and soon the idea of being “out of the weeds” was a mere illusion.

My brain now contains so many “in the weeds” memories, I cannot keep track. Like the time I was changing the dirty diaper of one squirming child, while the other figured out how to unlock the door and escape the apartment. Or, when my husband was out of town and during bedtime one child FINALLY fell asleep and immediately the other one started repeatedly yelling at the top of their lungs, “MOM! Come wipe me!”

Then there was that one time that our middle son came down with the stomach bug, followed by my husband two hours later, then, myself and then the other two children until all 5 of us were fighting over the 1 bathroom.

We all have our own “in the weeds” experiences, don’t we? Lately, our family’s experiences have had more to do with physical and emotional capacity for one another; Or rather, lack thereof.

When life hits you from multiple angles simultaneously, it can feel so much like you are “in the weeds” that in fact, you are drowning under them. Emotionally it becomes difficult to support one another when you are all treading water. The past couple years our family has experienced so much transition, loss, and change that supporting one another while we are all weary has often felt impossible. And to make it even more interesting, the 5 of us have had totally different experiences from one another! Take these pictures for example, all 5 of us physically in the same place, yet emotionally experiencing completely different things. It can feel divisive when one of you is feeling joy or excitement and the other… not so much.

When we told the kids we were moving back to Florida, Gracelyn had actual tears of joy while Garrett had tears of sadness. And BOTH of their reactions were right, justifiable and OK. Similar to our first couple months in NY after leaving India, I was experiencing joyful family reunion while my husband was processing the end of a dream.

Personal preferences, past experiences and even genetic makeup can create for these differences in experiences from person to person. But however explainable, it still doesn’t make it easy. However, it does help to recognize when you, yourself are in the weeds. It helps to identify it-because when you do, you can share that with your loved ones, and this gives them the ability to offer you grace.

11 years into marriage and we are definitely still working on our communication skills. But this one- this “grace in the weeds” practice has been priceless.

Here is the part where I lift up my hubby.

He was ready to move overseas in our first year of marriage. 9 years later we went. How did he wait this long? Grace.

He knew I was in the weeds. In the weeds of motherhood. In the weeds of moving to another state while 8 months pregnant. In the weeds of identifying and managing my anxiety. In the weeds of life! How did he know I was in the weeds? Besides the obvious. I told him. I told him I was struggling. I apologized for ways I projected my frustrations on others. I asked for grace while I leaned into the Lord and asked HIM to carry my burdens, change my heart and give me the strength to do the things I needed to do.

It is hard to ask for grace, if you don’t believe you need it. And if you don’t believe you need it, you might be missing out on the ways that you can grow as a person. This might not be the case with everyone, but it was for our family.

I am sure that in our last couple months in India, I was not at my best. Little did I know that I had been taking a placebo instead of actual anxiety medication, but even so, my head was not where it needed to be for my family, for the people I love. But, my husband gave me grace, upon grace, upon grace. He was able to do so because he has seen me at my best and my worst and because he constantly checks in with me and asks me how I am doing. And I tell him my truths because I trust him with them.

When we returned from overseas, I was able to extend the same grace to him as he took time to process unchartered waters. Because I too have a mental log of him at his best and his worst. I too ask him how he is, and he trusts me with his truths.

Walking through the weeds with someone can be painful. Long-suffering may be reality. Mental logs of your loved ones at their best and worst can be helpful forms of measuring tape and asking questions and being honest are crucial. But grace….true grace comes from Jesus.

The truth is- we love our people. We love our loved ones, and when it comes down to it we would probably jump in front of a bus for them.

But when our loved ones get ornery, cranky, selfish or unkind, it can be hard……so very hard. Don’t pretend like you don’t know…. you do. Those moments when your person is behaving in a way that hurts, and you want to set them straight. And sometimes you do. And other times, you stop and take a breath, and realize that their behavior is just the pain talking. The pain inside that no one else can see. So instead of setting them straight, you give them space and love them anyway.

A few verses keep circling in my head as I write this blog.

“As the Scriptures say, ‘No one is righteous— not even one.'” Romans 3:10

“Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My power is perfected in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly in my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest on me. That is why, for the sake of Christ, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Corinthians 12

“But He gives more grace. Therefore it says, ‘God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble.'” James 4:6

There are many reasons that I love Jesus. Today, one of the main reasons is this, without HIM, I would not have seen my sin. Without HIM, I would not have redemption. Without Him, I would not be able to receive grace, nor offer it.

No one is perfect, but it can be hard to see your sin, when you are a pretty good person. You can look to the left and look to the right all day, and see yourself as doing a pretty good job. Until the day you do something, behave a certain way, or even feel a certain way that you never thought you would, let alone could. The day you realize you are a sinner, is the day you are truly capable of love.

When you can see your own faults, you can ask for help, and ask for grace. And when you have had to ask for grace or forgiveness yourself, then when it is YOUR time to offer it to someone else, you have a mental log of what it felt like to receive forgiveness or grace when you did not deserve it. Then, you too can offer it as well.

Grace in the weeds.

I love my people.

We are all sinners.

I can’t imagine a life without forgiveness.

I started writing this blog because our family just moved after living 8+ months in my parents house. My parents are amazing. Their generosity and hospitality and Pete the Cat mentality are incredible. But everytime I spoke with someone about our current circumstances, they asked me how my husband was doing. Because, let’s be real- any spouse living in their in-laws house for an extended period of time deserves grace right?

Well, my hubby did it for a very long time. He had his ups and downs, but I am so grateful for him. He loves my parents, me and our children so well. He knows when we are a healthy family unit, and when we need help for our family unit to thrive.

I love you Adam.

Thank you.

Mother’s Day.

It was the weekend before Mother’s Day in 2018. We went to Cocoa beach and had an incredible day. But as the day was ending and we were rinsing off the sand, the day took a turn.

To this day I can see what happened clearly, and at the same time, not clearly at all. The three kids were sitting at barstools overlooking the beach. They were passing snacks and being yelled at for trying to sit on the ledge. That is when Jackson fell off the pier. It was a fall close to 15 feet. He landed on his back on the sand. I can still feel the moment when his foot slipped out of my grip.

Fast forward to Mother’s Day one week later, I found myself sobbing in lobby of our church. I couldn’t stay through the entire service because I kept recalling the previous weekends scare. I was grieving over the events of Jackson’s fall. My heart squeezed as I recalled running down the pier ramp and onto the sand. I scooped him up into my arms, and we rushed him to the hospital. I cried that Mother’s Day because my mama’s heart hurt at the reality that one weekend earlier, my grip was not strong enough to hold him. By the grace of God, Jackson was not only OK, but completely uninjured.

I praise the Lord for his mercy that day. Even so, the painful memory still endures. And unfortunately, before Jackson’s fall, I was not a stranger to these feelings of pain and shame. I remember as clear as day when Gracelyn was 1 year old and 1 day, and I gave her peanut butter and jelly for the first time. I was so excited to share such a treasured treat and I looked forward to many PB&J days to come. That is, until the reality of her peanut allergy appeared.

I can remember her small one-year old body being strapped to an adult sized bed in the ambulance with EMT’s struggling to get an IV in her while I sang the only song I could think of to try to distract her, the “Happy Birthday” song. Hours later, following epipen and 2 steroid injections, she was recovered and we journeyed home with the trauma behind us and instructions for a new life ahead.

Sweet and strong Gracelyn, today, May 2020.

And I will never forget the day that Garrett’s school called us in, lead us down a hallway and had us stand outside a door to watch our son destroy a classroom. The beginnings of Sensory Processing Disorder, anxiety and ADHD could explain the long story, but the short of it is, a scared little boy was unable to process the big world around him and desperately needed physical touch to ground him. A hug, a squeeze, something. But the public schools have their hands tied and unless a child has a 504 or an IEP, the child is left to wrestle through their wiring and the world’s expectations of them. Once they let us in the room, I held him as tight as I could while Adam began deep pressure. As a result our son returned to us and broke free from the frantic that held him captive.

Sometimes I wish I couldn’t recall these memories so clearly. I wish I couldn’t feel the pain and fear so intensely. Instead I long to meditate on the moments of thanksgiving and relief that follow. The moments when I rejoice because my children are still alive and safe in my arms. But anxiety will do that to you. Your brain gets stuck. And without intentional mindfulness, prayer and keeping your eyes on the Lord, the creator and sustainer of your faith, it is easy to fall prey to the pain and forget the victories.

I guess, in that way, we are not so different from the Israelites. They witnessed protection through the plagues on Egypt. They witnessed being delivered. Yet, when they were in the desert, out of fear, they questioned ever leaving.

My children are only 8, 6 and 4 and I know there is more to come. I know that I am still young in motherhood. But I know that I am not alone in these experiences either. There are so many mothers out there with so many stories to tell. And by what I can gather, none of us are immune to the fears and insecurities that motherhood brings.

I look back on the past 8 years of motherhood with so many emotions. I pray with my entire being that I am doing right by them. I ask for the grace of Jesus to cover all my mistakes along the way. I beg him to finish the work He has begun in me so that I may fulfill all that is asked of me.

The Lord has blessed me with 3 children, 2 with very dominant personality types (and husband too!) I however, am wired the opposite. I have always struggled to find my voice in every setting of my life. Be it out of fear of confrontation, desire to keep the peace or just plain insecurity, I can honestly say it took me about 34 years to find my voice. And it was a messy road. Full of mistakes. Irony of it all, the Lord used motherhood to help me with that.

Today I can proudly say, I am the mother of an incredible, passionate, and dedicated daughter who will make an amazing actress one day. She is an expert at “not breaking character” when she becomes one. She is also the elder sibling of two boys with extra needs. We already have seen the impact of this on her life and so desire to stay vigilant in our awareness of her needs.

I am also the mother of a brilliant, witty, fire cracker boy who without a doubt is going to change the world- as long as I can keep him alive!! He may be wired with extra challenges, and he “extra” pushes my buttons, but we long to help him have access to all that he needs, to be all that God has planned for him. In these early years it is very challenging to discern when it is SPD, ADHD, ODD, anxiety, versus when it is just 6 year old boy. But God has placed us with the honor and challenge of identifying the difference, because there is a difference. Recognizing it and responding appropriately can change the course of his life.

And I am the mother of a precious 4 year old boy who has captured my heart and turned my world upside down. This boy was a God-given surprise that turned this scheduled, instruction following mama into a co-sleeping, wrap me around your finger type in the blink of an eye. And I think that was God’s plan because the way Jackson was designed does not fit into a type. Jackson has Usher’s Syndrome. His hearing loss, speech delay and future vision loss requires my ability to be flexible, innovative and full of grace.

I often wrestle with the temptation to ask God why he has chosen me for this family. I often feel so inadequate, weak, and discouraged. I struggle with the exhaustion from feeling like I am giving my all, my best, and not making a difference. Do you?

But I have to battle the temptation. For the sake of my children. And trust, that the Lord gave me these little ones for a reason. And that He does not expect me to be perfect. In fact, He knows I cannot. And, He knows that He can. For “He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” 2 Corinthians 12:9

And in His great mercy, he plants people in my life along the way, to demonstrate love, faith, courage and wisdom. He places others in our life to guide us and help us, like puzzle pieces working together to finish a masterpiece. I mean, it takes a village, right?

These truths enabled me to move our family of 5 overseas. And these truths allowed me to move us back.

And I will preach this to myself daily, if need be. Because God is worthy to be trusted. He is worthy to be praised. If He is worthy to take our sin upon the cross, sacrificing his life for us, then He is worthy to carry us through the life we live now. He is the one most worthy of our humility. Only then can HE extend His grace, so that we might taste the life He has set before us.