Letters To My Children

For the last several years, I've been writing letters to my children. That seems kind of odd considering that I see my children fairly regularly and talk to them quite a bit. There's soooooo much more that I want to share with them though. More stuff than how OSU messed up their last football/basketball game ... more than how Sheldon from the Big Bang Theory reminds us of someone we know, but we never can figure out who ... more than how the dogs we own have taken over our lives. We do a lot of surface talking. Don't get me wrong! I'll take it! In fact, any time I can get any of my children to talk, I'll sit and listen for hours! But it seems that I don't get the "quality" time to really sit and visit with them, to find out what's going on in their lives, to delve in to feelings (which is pretty much downright torture for my sons to have to do anyway), and to share all of the wisdom that I have bottled up inside of me. (Yes, that was meant as a joke. My children will tell you that I never hesitate to share my "wisdom".)

So, because I really and seriously don't get that opportunity, I write letters to my children. Sometimes I write letters daily. Sometimes months might go by before I write to them. Most of the letters are fairly short, although a few ramble on for what will seem like forever. Unfortunately, my letters to my children are kind of like my blog posts -- erratic and who knows what they'll be like?!? But the heart and intent are there.

Topics in the letters might be: what God is teaching me, areas in my child's life where he's struggled but I've seen growth, gifts and talents of our children, praying for them, difficulties and struggles they're currently going through and seeing God's fingerprints in the midst of them, how much I love them and all of the reasons why I do, and so on. Many times I sit and laugh as I write because I'm so dang funny and my children will be reading these letters after I'm dead and gone. Maybe they'll appreciate my humor and wisdom then? I kinda doubt it, but a mom can dream, right? But even more often, I cry as I write. Why? Because there has really been no other area in my life like being a mom. It was my greatest challenge, the area where I felt my biggest defeats, my hardest struggles ... but at the same time, it was my biggest blessing, the largest arena of learning, and I'd love to still be in the midst of it.

I remember days wondering if my child would ever "get it". Will he ever learn to pick up his clothes and put them in the clothes hamper? Will she remember to look both ways before crossing the street? Will they hear God's voice telling them which path to choose? Will they look back on their childhood days fondly and want to repeat the same things with their own children? Will they remember a mom who had time for them, who listened to them, who loved them with a crazy and pursuing love? Or will they remember the mom who was impatient, demanding, and insecure in her own skin?

Even though my children have moved out of my home and have started families or homes of their own -- even though my children have jobs and are independent of me, God's showed me that my days as a mom are never over. Though I'm not tucking them in anymore, or listening for their car to drive in the driveway at curfew, or rocking them to sleep, I'm still praying over them, loving them, and writing them letters that are full of my heart. I expect them to read them after my funeral. Of course, I have several children who don't like to read, so it would be nice if someone would read the letters to them. 

And I'm grateful to their father -- the man who made all this possible. He was the one who encouraged me to stay home when our first child was born. I'll never forget when he told me that if we needed to eat beans every day for the rest of our lives, if that was the only way we could afford for me to stay home, then we'd do it. He was the one who told me he was 100% confident that I could homeschool our children and they wouldn't turn out to be social misfits or total idiots. He was the one who taught me that we need to pick our battles with our children. Having a spotless room did not qualify as a battle worth "dying on a hill" for. He taught me to relax, to laugh, to chill, to be less critical, and to be more patient (I didn't say that I mastered those lessons, but he definitely was a great teacher).

My job isn't done. I still pray over my children. I still tell them of my love. I still teach them. But this go-around, it's in letters ...

 

Being Mommy

We had a full-sized bed that was just perfect for Wes and me. One of my most vivid memories was waking up when I was 8 months pregnant with our daughter and all three of our boys (aged 3 through 7) were in bed with us ... along with our cocker spaniel puppy. How we managed to fit all of those people, including the incredibly pregnant mommy, in to a full-sized bed was beyond me. I still remember waking up with a backache because of the incredibly awkward position that I was laying in ... AND I understood the definition of a "full"-sized bed.

And, of course, there were other memories of being a mommy of little ones. Like the time two of our boys woke us up because one of them had wet the bed, gone to get in bed with his brother, and then wet his bed ... so they were looking for dry territory. THAT was the night that I was awakened by someone wetting our bed (and my back!).

I remember doing several loads of laundry a day (obviously!) ... watching Sesame Street or Barney and singing along to all of the songs that were sung ...drawing with chalk on the front porch to welcome Daddy home ... walking through the house, scouring the floors for little items that babies could choke on ... putting rubber bands on all of the cabinet doors to keep them closed ... occasionally being able to take a shower or bath all by myself and thinking it was heaven ... having ALL of the children actually asleep at the same time for a nap and gratefully taking a nap myself ... putting a blanket on the floor, turning off the TV, and just watching our little ones play ... taking a blanket outside for the baby and me to lie on while the older kids played in the sunshine ...

Those were wonderful times. But I also remember feeling isolated, feeling like I had no one to really talk to (unless you counted little ones who just wanted to talk about Teen Age Mutant Turtles or Bert and Ernie). When Wes would get home, I'd literally follow him around the house, begging to hear every moment of his day and wanting to talk to him about mine. I even have one memory of lying on the floor outside of the bathroom, talking to him while he was in there. He finally asked if he could just have a little bit of time when he got home without his wife trying to talk to him through the bathroom door. 

I felt isolated, but I wasn't alone. I had an incredible support system -- a husband who loved me, parents who were always available, and girlfriends who were raising lots of little ones just like I was. I was blessed. I was fortunate.

Maybe that's why God has given me such a heart for young moms who didn't have the support system that I did. Moms who are doing this on their own. Moms who are being mom, dad, and grandparent all in one. Moms who are young and are still learning and growing on their own. When THEY talk about isolation, they know what they're talking about. My heart is for them to NOT be alone, to have people walking alongside them in love, for them to love the incredible job of being a mommy. So, I've found a ministry where I can do that exact thing. I'm excited to be able to share this journey with them.

Being a mommy IS a job full of "incredibles" -- incredible amount of work, incredible amount of joy, incredible amount of energy, incredible amount of rewards. There's no other job like it in the world.

Kid Talk

This is a picture of our four children (20 years ago!) Aren't they adorable? Weren't they the cutest things? We had a lot of fun with them while they were growing up. For years, I kept a journal of different things our kids said, or how they pronounced certain words. Educators would have told me I was wrong, but there were just some things they mispronounced that I thought were so darn cute, I didn't correct them. I'm not going to embarrass any of my children (I'll save that for another post) and tell you who said what. We're just going to savor the moment of their thinking  and their mispronounciations ...

* Kiddo was sitting in the back seat of our car on a hot summer day. "Mom! Turn on the air 'tioner! I'm defecating back here!"

* Child's weeping reaction to singing "Away In A Manger" (in particular: the part where we sing "...no room for a bed") "Jesus could have had my bed!"

* Our little one asked why Jesus had to die to pay for our sins. He wanted to know why Jesus couldn't just write a check.

* One of our children wanted to know why the Easter Dummy didn't come to our house.

* Another child would tell us he needed a Kleenix to wipe the "snore" from his nose.

* One of our kids would complain of "nitches" in his bottom, but he'd want you to scratch it because he didn't want his "pingers" to get "tinky".

* One child wore a "baby soup" (bathing suit) ... all of them said "horkie" (horsie) ... another would "scare" (stare) at things s/he wasn't supposed to be "scaring" at ... another used "tulip paper" to wipe after using the restroom ... and when one was sick, he had the "kazoo" while his brother had the "flute".

Probably one of the best things, although I really shouldn't put it down, was when one of our sons was teaching his younger brother, our 3-year-old, a Bible verse. They were working on I John 5:17 -- "all wrong doing is sin." The older brother was trying to explain to the younger brother what sin was, and he said, "Sin is when you say a bad word." Recently, they had heard the s-word while they had been at a house of a neighbor boy and had been instructed that it was not a word that we should say.  So, the older brother told the younger brother, "Sin would be saying the s-word." Ahhh! That was a good explanation, right? The younger brother very definitely understood that. Later in the evening, the boys were very excited to share what they had learned. The older brother instructed the younger boy to tell us his Bible verse ... and this is what he proudly said: "I John 5:17 -- All wrong doing is s@#%."

I am extremely proud to tell you that all of my children (who are now in their 20's) no longer need Kleenixes to wipe the snore from their noses ... they don't scare at people anymore ... they don't wear baby soups (that I know of) ... and they don't swear while reciting Bible verses. Sigh. I certainly miss those days.

The good news? I have a granddaughter who loves to watch "woovies" (movies). She asked after hearing talk of a storm: "This sounds serious. Is there a tomato coming?" And, she told me that she loves to ride "alligators" (elevators). The fun and blessings continue!

Prayers for My Children

For my precious children and grandchildren, I pray ...

that you're never too comfortable. With comfort comes the feeling of being fine just where we are and not needing anything else.

that you might recognize the lies of the world and realize that you were created for much more than this.

that you'll never be truly content unless you're walking with the Lord.

that no matter what you've done or where you've been, you'll be able to forgive yourself as Jesus forgives you ... and that you'll see yourself as He sees you -- precious, worthy, and absolutely His.

that God's incredible gift of grace will be abundantly clear to you as you rock your sleeping babies ... or as you wake each morning, knowing that every day is a new beginning.

that you'll always recognize your need for Christ. Being needy isn't a bad thing. When we recognize our need and walk with Him, then we become stronger and are more able to withstand more of what the world throws at us.

that you won't neglect to see the danger signs that are placed before you. And then, once you see those signs, you'll do the right thing ... and run!

that you'll hear God's voice at all times -- especially in those times when He's the last One you want to be hearing from.

that you'll be sweetly broken by the depth of Jesus' love for you ... and that it will overflow from you to those around you.

that you'll recognize the blessings you've been given by family members who have walked with the Lord and prayed for you all of your life ... and that you'll do the same for your children and grandchildren.

that you might feel the security of knowing that God loves you, He has a plan for your life, and He is in absolute control. He's never caught off guard and always cares what's going on where you're concerned. Even when things seem bleak and you feel alone, may you rest in His presence, sure that He is Who He says He is.

that you'll always be confident of my love for you ... but even more than that, that you'll be certain of God's  love for you.

I love you.

Mommy Radar

For some reason, God gave me "Mommy Radar". For those of you not cursed blessed enough to have this strange ability, let me explain it to you. Much like Doppler Radar (anyone in Oklahoma is familiar with that term) can see and predict a violent storm within a weather pattern, Mommy Radar can see what's going on in the lives of her children. The radar isn't particularly detailed in that I know all the in's and out's of a situation, but it's there enough for me to know something wrong is going on. Some people may call it intuition. Others have been known to hint that there are spells and voodoo involved (those are only my children who have hinted that -- they're a little bitter). But I call it Mommy Radar, and it simply is a family-coined term for the Holy Spirit revealing something (always something neither me nor my children want me to see) about one of my children.

The Radar usually starts with a sense of unease that something is not as it should be. That unease not only doesn't go away, but it just continues to get stronger as time goes by. Within 24 to 48 hours, something will happen (e.g. someone will say something or I'll piece together different events) and I'll have a general idea of what's going on. Yes, it sounds pretty sketchy, but the amazing thing is that in 100% of the cases where Mommy Radar has gone off, it's always right. It might be a little late (like after the event), but it's never failed. They can't run. They can't hide. They can't wear aluminum hats made of foil to keep their brain waves to themselves. My kids hate it, and honestly, I'm not too crazy about it myself, simply because of the pain that often accompanies revelation.

My kids have always hated the dreaded conversation that Mommy Radar brings about.

Me: We need to talk. (Yes, those are the words that can make any of my four children sweat profusely, become nauseous, and experience insanely fast heart rates.)

Kid: Uhm, what about? (At this point, his/her mind is racing wildly over anything s/he's done lately that could bring this conversation about. His/her eyes start seeking out the nearest exit to the room.)

Me: [Deep sigh] My Mommy Radar is going crazy. (By that, Mom means that she's unable to sleep and has calluses on her knees from constant prayer.)

Kid: [Rolling of the eyes] Seriously, Mom. This has got to stop. I'm {insert age here] now! (Meaning: I'm old enough to do what I want and I shouldn't have to answer to you or anyone else.)

Me: Believe me when I say I would be only too happy if it would stop!! But I can't help it. God just keeps revealing things to me! (At this point, Mom's eyes are beginning to get a little teary and her voice is getting shaky.)

Kid: [Slumping the shoulders, wiping brow wearily] Fine. When did you find out? (There's no argument that everything is hunky-dory. Both Mom and Kid know the truth. Kid knows the details ... Mom knows the generalities. Discussion follows.)

It is at this point that my kiddo and I will have a serious discussion about what God has revealed to me. I'd love to say that all of these discussions have had "happily ever after" endings, but I'd be a big fat liar if I did. I'd also love to say that in each situation, my child repented of {take your pick: wrong choice, sin, dangerous life pattern, etc.}, hugged me enthusiastically, thanked me profusely, and our relationship was stronger and better than ever before ... but, in the extremely slim chance that any of my children read my blog, I need to set a good example of always telling the truth. Sometimes, everything WAS positive and immediate changes came about. Other times weren't quite as "rewarding", but my child definitely heard the truth according to Scripture ... and it was his choice as to what he was going to do with it.

I haven't totally understood why God chooses to do this Mommy Radar stuff with our family, but here are some theories. There have been times that I needed to be my child's self-control and discipline when he was having a hard time exercising his own. I've had to be the brick wall to hedge my child in to protect him from the world ... and had to be the "bad guy" to protect him from himself. I've had to show my child he was believing a lie, justifying wrong behavior, or going down a dangerous road. And, as they've gotten older, I've had to confront as one Christian adult to another.

There has never been a time when Mommy Radar has gone off that I thought it was wonderful. It's always been painful. But I learned a long time ago that I need to be obedient when God's Spirit says something to me. He doesn't reveal just for revelation's sake ... a salvation (of sorts) is always involved. Honestly, if I could see that my child was driving a car and ignoring the "Bridge Out" signs and continuing merrily on his way, I wouldn't hesitate to stop him as much as I was able simply because I could see the road ahead and knew that he was in danger. In fact, Scripture tells us to step in and to "save a lamb from slaughter" when we see a Christian brother heading down a wrong way. Mommy Radar does the same thing. And God has chosen me to torture (Sorry! That's how our kids have seen it) serve our children in this way.

Blessing or curse. I guess it just depends on how you look at it. As for me, I see God's extreme love for my children through it all ... and that makes it a blessing (definitely in disguise sometimes), but a blessing nevertheless. My prayer? That every one of my children will be given this strange ability as well. No, not for revenge or pay-back on my part (although that's a little odd it even occurred to me), but so that they, too, can come up alongside their children (my wonderful grandchildren!!) in a time when they desperately need to hear the Truth.

"I have no great joy than this, to hear of my children walking in the Truth."

3 John 4

Parenting Debate

I was in on a discussion today about parenting. In the room was a mom of a baby and a preschooler ... a dad of an older elementary student, a middle schooler, and a highschooler ... and me -- an old, tired woman with four adult children. There was a semi-debate on which stage of life was hardest. Hmmmmm. Let's see. Where do we begin?

Was it difficult to get up every two hours and nurse a baby, go through constant diaper changing, all while trying to love and nurture the older child, cook, clean, go to the grocery store, and be an attentive wife? Boy, do I remember those days! I figured up the other day that I was pregnant and/or nursing for a total of 108 months (that's 8 1/2 years, folks!!). I think I spent most of my time sleep-deprived, babbling about Bert and Ernie, stepping on GI Joes, and wiping noses and/or bottoms. And, at the time, I thought it was the hardest stage of parenting simply because of the physical exhaustion that accompanied it. Having adult conversations or going out to eat without cutting someone's meat was a treat! But absolutely NOTHING can compare to holding a sleeping baby, or checking on your precious toddler as she's sleeping, or listening to a preschooler say his prayers to Jesus. It was worth it ...

Then, our children entered the grade school/middle school/high school years. We were every bit as busy, just in different areas. Now we were deep into trying to figure out fair rules for our family (curfew, movies, dating, driving, friends), driving all over the state for athletic events, and surgeries and doctor's appointments (unfortunately, that went along with sports for our family!! During this time, it seemed like most of my time was spent behind the wheel of a car, going from one activity or another. And, a lot more emotions came in to play. I discovered that teenage boys desperately want to be independent and don't want "mommy". It was during this time that our children began pulling tightly on the apron strings, trying to see how much those strings would stretch.Yet, there were times when we'd all be sitting around in the living room, laughing and sharing a family inside joke ... or a teen would sit on our bed at midnight just to talk and share what was going on in his life ... and it was soooo worth it.

Our kids grew up and became young adults. We're not as busy as we were, but we're defininitely older (waaaaaaay older, as a matter of fact). Our young adult children have lived with us and lived in their own places; they've made incredibly smart decisions and unfortunately stupid ones. Mistakes made at this age can't be fixed with a kiss and a band-aid, and we as parents know that and have worried about it. When our kids are living here, we find that we still wake up during the night -- no, not for night feedings, but to check and make sure they've gotten home safely. I think my children turned in to vampires as they got older -- they just didn't seem to require sleep and liked being up all night long, and for parents who can't sleep until everyone's home safely ... oh well!! This stage has been emotionally exhausting, but it's all been worth it when we've seen them become parents ... or they've made an incredibly difficult decision that has shown maturity and wisdom ... or we get a random phone call just to visit.

Each stage of parenting has been difficult ... for different reasons.  But those stages of parenting have all been as incredible as well. Would we do it over again? Yes!! Why? Any parent would know the answer to that question: because it's just been worth it -- every second, every minute, every hour.

Our Path

When my husband and I got married, we were put on a path. We were young and in love so we didn't particularly care WHAT path it was or WHERE it was going ... we were together, and that was enough.



We're older now ... hopefully wiser ... and the path has been an interesting one -- one that I'm very grateful for. I've been grateful for my incredible husband and the One Who has walked with us every step of the way.



Then we had children. And boy, did those children add twists and turns to our path! Twists, turns, ups, down, sharp corners, dizzying speeds, highs, and lows ... but again, we've all been together and that's been good.



We've grown older with our children (maybe BECAUSE of our children!), but we've learned so much more than we could have learned on our own. We've learned how to bend and not break ... how to work together as a couple ... how to love and forgive ... how to look past the moment and in to what God's doing in the future. It's been good.



And then God outdid Himself! He not only added a grandbaby to our family ... He added color to our path. Suddenly, all of the twists and turns, the sharp corners, the highs and the lows were in vivid, breathtaking colors. What beauty He added!! What joy He has multiplied!



Having a grandbaby has taught us to slow down and enjoy the simple things -- like lady bugs ... or bubble baths ... or fireworks. We've seen that God intends for us to experience great joys in this life, to relish the small moments, to take joy in the every day instances.



And God just continues to add to this path that we're on. Coming from a person who likes to be in total control and to know everything that's going on, the path has sometimes been rough. Yet, it's been a path that has led to our learning and growth, our being stretched, our being blessed. Can't wait to see what else He has in store!