Sunday, May 14, 2017

Ready or Not, Here It Comes!

17 Days.  That's all that remains until my firstborn's graduation. I am very proud of her and so excited to see where life will lead this girl.  It has been such a joy to raise this beautiful soul!


I remember when we first came to Africa.  Abby was in the 7th grade and college seemed so close and yet so far away.  Even at that point, we needed to think through how we would pace our Stateside visit times so that we could be sure that we could have time to get each of our graduates back to the States for university.  The thought was terrifying to me and I remember chatting with another mom who had already settled three in herself.  She told me that with each of her children, there had been a certainty at the beginning of high school that this child was THE child who was not going to be ready on time.  Each child was the child who would not be ready to live on one side of the ocean with mom and dad on the other.  Then, she said, over the course of those 4 years, it always happened.  Each child would mature in big and little ways, and by the end of their senior year she would know they were ready.  

Well, here we are, at the end of senior year and I can say with the utmost confidence she is ready.  I know it is time for her to fly.  All of those stupid Cracker Barrel plaques about giving them roots and wings are being lived out in my world right now.  The girl has roots, now it's time to let her use those wings.  She's ready.

I'm not.  I mean I am, but I'm not.  I have these moments where I can't wait to see where she'll go, how she'll impact others, and how she'll grow and mature as the years go by.  But I'm not ready to be separated from her.  God has given me the privilege of parenting this beautiful soul and she is a really great kid.  I honestly think that even if she wasn't mine, I'd think she is something special.  I enjoy spending time with her, hearing her stories, listening to her perspective, and laughing with her about all sorts of crazy things.  She brings such light into my world.  

I know that our relationship will continue.  I will always be her mom.  She will always be my Abigail Grace.  There will still be stories and laughs shared together.  It will be exciting to see her grow and branch out and there will be new things to enjoy.  I realize this isn't a funeral, it's a graduation.  But, the dailyness will be different.  The reality is that the calling we've chosen to obey will separate us for many birthdays and holidays and everydays.  That is the part that I struggle with.

Just a few weeks ago we were at the hospital where we volunteer each week and she was sitting on the floor, in the middle of a pile of children.  She was laughing and smiling as she does while we are there, and she called out to me, "Mom, Mom, look at him, isn't he so cute?" as she gestured toward a child who was completely covered in burn scars.  He was giggling and grinning as she tickled him.  And, in that moment, I couldn't breathe.  I just was overwhelmed with sorrow.  I choked out a small response of agreement and walked away as the tears just flowed and I whispered to the Lord about how I just wasn't sure I could do it.  I just was not sure that I was going to be able to board a plane and put an ocean between us.  

That moment passed and since then, others have come and gone.  I know others will come.  The reality and the grief ebbs and flows.  I know that God's grace is sufficient.  It has been.  It is.  It will be.  


 Sunrise at the dunes which was Abby's last wish list "to-do" before departing Niger.


Sunday, January 15, 2017

My "Mommy Book"


Back in the fall, a friend invited me to join she and some other ladies for a weekly Bible study together. The group I had been meeting with last year was doing something I'd done before and I decided to join this new group. The women in the group are all other cross-cultural workers who are really sweet and really precious and really YOUNG. I mean they aren't that much younger than me, I guess, but they feel young to me. All of them are either pregnant or have had a baby in the last 18 months. So the things that are filling their days are similar, but different, than my days. And when I listen to them share I have this weird blend of nostalgia and compassion for their current seasons of life. I love them all, even if they make me feel a little bit like I should be applying for my AARP membership. And even if my tongue is sometimes sore from all the times I bite it instead of saying "It goes so fast, enjoy it!" Because let's be honest, that doesn't help ANY of us, does it? And really, those 55 hour long days of the toddler years do.not.go.fast!

Anyway, we started off the school year with a Jen Wilkins study of 1 Peter, which I highly recommend. It was my first Jen Wilkins study and I loved it because 90% of the study focused on what the Bible actually had to say, rather than the author's commentary on what the Bible had to say, which I appreciated.  

So, we finished that study a few weeks before Christmas and decided to do something lighter over the holidays, especially as many of us were traveling or having guests. We thought we'd read a book together. After perusing several options, we chose Missional Motherhood, by Gloria Furman. The subtitle was, "The Everyday Ministry of Motherhood in the Grand Plan of God." It sounded good to me. I was thinking it would be a bit of a light read with some encouraging tips for mothering in a Christ-Centered way. I've read at least a dozen Christian mommy books through the years. I appreciate the tips I pick up and the encouragement I get and it had been a while since I'd read one. So, I ordered my $11 Amazon copy and prepared for my light reading. Which is NOT what I got. I got systematic theology 101, in light of motherhood. 

To be honest, I've had a love-hate relationship with the book. It is not what I signed up for- at all! I know I would not have finished it if it hadn't been a group discussion book because I wanted some feel good fluff. But, I have finished it and I am so glad I did. The last few chapters have been really rich and encouraging for me. They have helped me to see my ministry as a mother from a very Biblical perspective. Today, I read something that led me to want to share with you from where I am in life these days.

When we travel to the States, one of the most common questions we get is "Do you like where you live?" or "So, you must really like it over there or you wouldn't go back, right?" We never know how to answer those questions. If you were to google something like "least developed countries in the world" or "lowest life expectancy age" or "worst countries for women's rights" you would find our current home in the top five for all of those lists and many other lists that are equally as unfortunate. It is a hard place for anyone to live and honestly, it is not a place that is glamourous or fun in its own right. It just isn't. We don't live here because we love it. We live here because God has given us a heart for these people and we love Him. We know, that for this season of our life, it is the only place we can invest and be walking in obedience. God gives us the grace to stay and invest and persevere every single day. We get enough for that day, which is all we need.



My point in saying this is not to make myself sound like a martyr or a super hero. I can assure you no one is less qualified to wear those titles than me. So, if you're carrying around any sort of false belief that missionaries are in a different league than the average person, please drown and bury that falsehood immediately. The vast majority of us are knee-deep in sin struggles, depending on daily grace, just like you... we just don't get to eat as many Doritoes and Dr. Peppers after we lose it with our kids or use harsh words with our spouses!

The truth is, if you are a Christ follower, you've been called to do your "whatever" to the glory of God, just like I have. l am not sure what your whatever might be...showing love to a difficult neighbor, sticking in a marriage that isn't full of fun and fluff these days, parenting a child whose needs are overwhelming, working a 40 hour a week job when you really just want to be a full-time mommy (or vice versa- I have been there!), etc., etc., etc. You can rest assured that if you have breath in your lungs, God has work for you to do right where he has you. You and I can be on mission in the everydays and the ordinaries. Though our geography is different, our calling is the same. If you are a follower of Christ, then we should both be trying to make disciples and share the love of Christ in every circle of influence that God has given us for this season. Which is easier to do some days than others.

So today, as I was reading in my "mommy book," I came across these words, which I found encouraging. Words that I guess some of you might benefit from reading too. So here they are, straight from page 183 of Missional Motherhood, by Gloria Furman.

"Friends and fellow mothering women, because King Jesus is on this throne, subduing all his enemies and supplying everything we need for life and godliness as we go about the mission he gave us, we truly have no need to fear. We can instead gladly embrace weakness, sickness, lots of children, a few children, lots of needy people in our lives, unemployment, financial strain, and pain, knowing that he is up to way more and way better things than we can imagine. We can do things that we think are less fulfilling to us, such as volunteer in the church nursery, simply because that's that the church needs and because Jesus equipped us to serve him and build up his body. ... Because Jesus is coming back, and he is giving us tastes of his resurrection life now, we can serve like he served in the contexts he sends us. We can go places we can't imagine will ever make us happy, because we don't need those places to make us happy. Jesus makes us happy. There is no place we could sojourn in our Father's world where he who ways he is the resurrection and the life cannot satisfy us according to his word."

Wow, there you go friends. We can do it. Whatever our "whatevers" are, by his grace, we can do it. He can and will equip us. I can testify to his grace upon grace to do things you never imagined yourself capable of doing.

For the record, if anyone is looking for a good read, now that I've wrestled through it, I would recommend you read Missional Motherhood. Just maybe not for your relaxing beach read!

Tuesday, October 11, 2016

Senior Madness

It is really, really hard for me to believe, but my firstborn is 25% of the way finished with her senior year.  We are a mere 8 months from graduation.  How can this be?  I try not to think about it too much as rocking in a corner is not the best way to spend my time.  I know it is the natural progression of things, but I am not looking forward to the time when I am on one side of the Atlantic and she is attending university on the other side.  For now, I've just determined to try and enjoy as  much of her senior year as I can.  

As I've shared before, there are many things about our decision to enroll the kids in school that I have struggled with.  The awesome community they've found there is not on of them.  I love that Abby has such great classmates and that they are able to share this last year of school together.  The school the kids attend helps the students work towards having a senior trip each year.  Basically, every year of high school, each class holds 2-3 fundraising type events and the money is banked until the last part of their senior year.  Whatever they make over the four years is the class budget for the trip.  

It really is a win/win situation.  Because there are so few recreational opportunities in our city/country, people typically come out in droves to support the events.  Most people are thrilled to pay for a meal they don't have to cook and the entertainment that typically accompanies the meal is highly anticipated, especially by their fellow students.  The kids learn to work together, as well as some basic budget and business principles.  Of course, the parents are also involved at some level, especially on the day of the actual event.  You can imagine, with three high schoolers this year, we have lots of opportunities to be involved!

The seniors have the most rigorous fund-raising duties and two of the events are back to back, only about 3 weeks apart.  I am really sad that I missed the big one they had in October, where they run a concession stand all weekend long for an annual softball tournament in our city.  I would have loved to have been there, but instead I have been trying to keep from losing my mind here in South Africa.  

Fortunately, I did get to be a part of the first fundraiser of the year the weekend before I left.  The seniors chose a western theme and they initiated the school's new outdoor pavilion with a giant square dance.  They served dinner and held a pie auction with 20+ pies.   Because I had taught our house helper how to make corn dogs, they hired him to make 400 corn dogs the week of the event.  Honestly, I smelled like a diner waitress all week long from living in a corn dog factory.  But, they were a hit, as were the other yummy foods that they pulled together.  It was a fun time and I am so glad I got to stick around and be a part of it!

All of the seniors, getting ready to kick of "The Barn" event.

They may have had to improvise a bit on the "hay" but the kids still loved the hayride!


Just a few of the yummy pies!

Swing your partner round and round.  Never mind that it's 90+ degrees as the sun goes down!

 Who knew that our brilliant school music teacher could double as a square dance caller?

Notice I have no pictures of my boys dancing?

My favorite senior!  Time flies when you're having fun!

Monday, October 3, 2016

I've Been Thinking...

I've had some free time on my hands this week and I've been thinking.  As I type this, I am sitting in a guest house at the bottom of Africa.  It's cold here for my little West African body, so I rest in a recliner next to the space heater that is surely keeping my toes from frostbite.   I'm not complaining because it's been many months since I've been cold and I know it's 100+ back at my house.  

This week, I am in a waiting pattern. You see, I started having these crazy swollen lymph nodes and after about 10 weeks of them, I decided I'd better visit a doctor and ask if they were anything I needed to be worried about.  The doctor confirmed that they were a bit worrisome, so after a bit of an exam and a few follow-up tests, we had no answer for the issue. Because of the very limited healthcare options available there, we had run out of diagnostic options.  So, I was sent down south where the medical care is far better in the hopes that we could get a diagnosis.  I have a test in a few days which we are hoping will give us some answers.  For now, we wait.  I wait here and my family waits back in West Africa.  

I'm gonna be honest, the waiting stinks.  I am tempted to feel sorry for myself and the fact that saying yes to my call to Africa means that I am navigating a scary time like this without my husband and family by my side.  But, I am trying hard to take captive every thought instead and think on things to be grateful for.  Things like good healthcare, the fact that I work for an extraordinary organization through whom I get to live a really cool life, children who love me and long to be with me, a husband who has been so kind and whose sweet daily e-mails I will treasure for years to come.  I am thankful for the spring weather and flowers I am experiencing.  Not to mention, after eating out only 5 times in the last 6 months, I have now eaten out 5 times in the last week.  Hooray for no cooking!  Most of all I am thankful that no matter what comes through that biopsy needle on Weds., I know that my future is secure and nothing, nothing, absolutely nothing is a surprise to my Lord.  I am thankful for the hope I have in Christ!

During all of the waiting, I have been indulging in lots of chick flicks, which I haven't done in years.  Meg Ryan, Julia Roberts, Sandra Bullock, and their friends have been keeping me company each evening.  One of my girlfriends back in Niger was kind enough to pack me up a case full of DVDs and I have laughed and cried through lots of romantic comedies over the last week.  But, as much as I have enjoyed many of them, they have me wondering, why do they all end at the wedding?  A few go so far as to show the "One Year Later" scene where the happy couple is shown in a cozy scene with the bride sporting a baby bump or holding a baby or the like.  But nothing beyond that.  

Well Sandra and Julia, I'm here to tell you...I'm 40 something now and I'm searching for a story that's a bit different.  Where are the romantic comedies about the couples who were wed 20 years ago and are knee deep in parenting and college applications and trying to keep the "spark" alive while driving their SUVs?  That's the story I want to see.  The one where the bump on their waistline is not from a baby on the horizon, but is leftover from the babies that are about to graduate from high school.  I want to see the romantic comedy where the magical date looks like actually getting to have a complete conversation that doesn't involve work or children and instead it focuses on remembering why they  chose one another all those years ago.   Or how about a story where a "tropical getaway" involves recruiting grandparents, leaving meals in the freezer, two weeks of coordinating carpool solutions, and more than likely a meltdown in the swimsuit department before boarding the plane.  What about the stories where romance involves cellulite and wrinkles and reading glasses and the fact that sometimes the best kind of love is the one that's endured a whole lotta mess and yet still chooses to be committed and electric after all that time?   Where are those stories?  

Because, I've been thinking, that's the one I wanna see.





Monday, August 29, 2016

Easier?

People often ask us what is the hardest thing about living where we live.  Honestly, it varies day by day and season by season.  Sometimes it feels like such an overwhelming privilege that it's hard to answer at all.  Other days, we could give a list longer than Santa's on December 23rd.  There are a few that are always hard...missing our American family and friends is usually at the top.   Sometimes though, there are other things that just feel too difficult to endure.

Saturday morning, I had one of those moments.  I needed to do some grocery shopping and I was trying to bring in enough for two weeks worth of meals and lunchbox goodies.  For me, that usually means at least two stores, often three.  Now, you have to understand that our biggest grocery store is not much bigger than a Sheetz or 7-11.  I have one store where I prefer to buy my beef and cheese, another where I tend to buy "snacks," one that I prefer to use for dairy, and another where I get chicken and most of my pantry type items.  Some of those things overlap, depending on where I go, but I tend to go to one or two of them where I stock up on the kinds of things I buy there and then rotate where I go every couple of weeks.

It's generally not a fun experience for many reasons.  For one thing, the availability of goods varies greatly and no sooner do I think I have meals planned out than something that is often available goes missing completely and can't be found anywhere in town.  Or, on the flip side, something brand new or rare appears on the scene and there is this tension on how many to buy or how far to exceed the budget because you don't know when you'll see it again.

Secondly, food is expensive here.  Even with eating a lot less meat and dairy, we spend about twice as much on groceries here as we do in the States.  That is partly our fault because we haven't switched to the beans and starch type diet that most Nigeriens eat and we chose to buy imported items like apples, cheese, and butter.  There is a constant tension between the budget and the bellies of 5 kids, 4 of whom are teens or nearly teens.  I really miss things like weekly specials and coupons, because that was a big part of how we managed our budget in the States.  Those options are non-existent here. We are blessed with a fair and steady income and we make it work, but it takes a good bit of vigilance and self-disipline (as in, "I know there are Doritos on that shelf today, but they are $4 for a small bag...walk away!")

Another reason it can be tough is simply that the realities of this culture are very, ummm, real on grocery shopping day.  Yesterday, that was what pushed my buttons.  You see, anytime I go to the grocery, I encounter beggars.  Really, any time I leave my house, I encounter beggars, but they seem to bother me most on grocery shopping day.  I think it's because I know that the money I spend for the groceries that I load into my car while walking past their outstretched hands would likely feed their families for 2-3 months or more.

There is a constant tension between the fact that my family needs to eat and the reality that these people are hungry...genuinely hungry, sometimes on the brink of starvation.  They often have disabilities that make finding a job impossible, especially in a country where there aren't nearly enough jobs for the healthy people.  They weren't born in a country where their inability to see or hear or walk allows them to receive benefits that will insure survival.  They depend on the alms they receive from their neighbors, who have been taught that they can move along the path to paradise by throwing a few coins in the begging bowls.

My Bible talks about things like having mercy and giving a cup of water in Jesus name and a host of other vignettes about compassion and generosity and I desperately want to show the love of Christ.  Yet, I feel like I am walking along a sea shore filled with sand dollars, throwing them back one at a time, just like the little story you see on the flea market posters.

Every day, I have to make multiple decisions about how to deal with each person who calls out to me, begging for a coin or two. Sometimes it's okay and other times, it is just so draining.  Too often, I am so envious of my friends who live in America who are heading to Target or Starbucks or to grandma's house, oblivious to the gaunt faces that I encounter everywhere I go.  I get angry that I feel guilty for buying a bag of pretzels or a box of milk as a treat for my children instead of settling for the cheaper popcorn kernels and powdered milk.

Most often, when asked for money, I smile, give a kind word, and put my hands together as if I am going to pray, which is the symbol used here to communicate, "God Bless You, but I'm not going to give you money."  Sometimes, something stirs in my heart and I give a coin or two.  Other times, especially if they are children, I give them a piece of fruit or maybe a small pack of cookies or nuts.  I really just try to be sensitive to the Holy Spirit as I go about my errands.

Yesterday, I was headed to my last stop, which was a produce stand next to a small grocery store that I had just exited.  A blind man with two small boys, maybe 4 and 6 years, approached me and walked alongside me.  His glazed eyes stared off into the distance as he chanted some standard Arabic greetings.  His little boys just stared at me and waited for me to purchase my items, likely hoping that I would give them my coins after the transaction.  I gathered all of my produce and decided to add some oranges and bananas to give to them.  However, the man that was helping me got delayed and it took a long time to get everything weighed and bagged and purchased.

By the time I was finished, they had given up and walked away and I had this urgency that I needed to give this fruit to them.  The rains had come during the night and the street was flooded, so I didn't relish the idea of chasing them down.  Instead, I decided to follow them in my car, but by the time I was loaded up and pulling away they were out of sight.  I was running late, heading to a birthday party, and yet I knew that I HAD to hand off the fruit.  For some reason, I was feeling nearly frantic so I passed the road where I would normally turn off to head home in an effort to find them.  Finally I spotted them up ahead, so I pulled over, rolled down my window, and handed the older boy the bag of fruit.  He smiled and thanked me, and I pulled away.

A quick glance in my rearview showed them digging into the bag to see what it was.  And for some reason, I just started sobbing.  Sobbing because it wasn't enough.  It wasn't enough for them.  It wasn't enough for all of the other hungry people.  It wasn't enough of a sacrifice and yet no amount of sacrifice would begin to make a dent in the overwhelming poverty in my city or even in my little corner of my city.  I sobbed because it is so hard to reconcile my life with the life of these people or my faith with this kind of suffering.  And yet, I know that even beyond the hunger, even beyond the horrible medical care and education systems, these people face a terrible poverty of the soul and no matter what I do, it will never.ever.be enough for all of them.

Facing that every day can be really, really exhausting my friends.  If you've ever wondered why missionaries get to come home for 6 month "vacations" every few years, this is one reason you can add to the list.  What does one do with this kind of reality?  How does one process it and live with it every single day?  I have only one coping mechanism.  For me it comes from the words I find in John 15.  He is the vine.  I am the branches.  I try to abide in him and I trust that HE, not me, will bear much fruit.  I have to trust him.  That's it.  That is all I can do.  Beg him for the strength and the wisdom and the courage to face today and to lead me as to how to respond to the needs I see.  Then tomorrow, we'll face it again, together.

Often, I wonder if it will ever get any easier.  Sometimes I think that would be nice.  Other times the thought terrifies me.  Oh Lord, may I never, ever, not be bothered by this kind of human need and suffering.  May it always make my chest tight and may the tears always be near to the soul.


Sunday, August 28, 2016

Back to School Fun

I have this friend here in Niamey who is always full of fun ideas and energy.   She never meets a stranger and has this ease with the culture here that I admire.  This year our families are carpooling together for school, which is great for both of us.  She does one way and I do the other and it helps both of our schedules.

The week before school started, she suggested that we take the kids out for some back to school photos.  She scouted out the location, which was right outside the city, in the middle of a field.  She picked it partly because they were constructing a new school just down from it and there was a pile of desks outside that she thought would make a good prop for our photos.

When we arrived, in her normal fashion, she just stopped the car and boldly asked if the gentlemen working on the school would mind if we used some desks and then she paid them a little bit to carry them over to the field, which they were happy to do.  In fact, they even offered to sell them to her!  We became quite the spectacle and had a small crowd by the time all of the photos were taken.

We laughed and laughed getting the pictures, partly because we felt like animals in the zoo, and partly because it was just a hoot to be sitting next to a hut, in borrowed desks, in the middle of a field taking photos.  

Her photos are much better than mine, as she is quite the photographer, but I can't remember to take a USB and get them from her.  So, these are just a few of the ones that I took.
 Here is the whole crew!
It is hard for me to believe this guy is a 3rd grader!

 Seniors!
 Never were there such devoted sisters.  Unless there is one cookie left on the counter.  Then it's every man for himself!
 This boy...eating constantly.  My friend brought an apple as a prop and before we could blink, Isaac had eaten it!
 Hey, hey we're the Monkees.
 or maybe the Von Trapp children?
 These random cows didn't mind our presence.
 CD cover
 This was their "No Abby, don't go!" pose.  I cannot believe that we only  have this school year left before she spreads her wings and heads to university.
This girl.  She is such a joy in our family.  They all are though!

Friday, June 10, 2016

Ramblings


I am a planner.  I LOVE to plan.  If my world is crazy and I feel like I can’t take it anymore, I get out my extra fine point sharpies and make a list.  Or I open my Pages application and start a chart of some sort, nailing something down in my world.  If I have to go too long without planning something out, I go a bit crazy.  Give me a birthday party, a holiday event, a trip to a new city, a curriculum map, or something to pace out.  I love it.

Because of this, I have this habit.  Every weekend, generally on Sunday afternoons, I sit down and write out my to-do list for the week.  I know that for some people, that might be a chore, but for me, it is actually a very Sabbath-y habit.  It settles the swirl of upcoming things in my mind and helps me to feel like I can breathe a little deeper.  It allows me a chance to think through how I can prioritize for the week and what I need to just say no to.  

Actually, at the end of each month, I write a list of goals/things that I hope or need to accomplish in the coming month in a little composition book that my mom sent over at some point.  I typically jot a little number next to them, indicating which week they would best be accomplished, based on what they are and what my demands for the coming month are.   Then, each Sunday, I open up that little 99 cent composition book and look at what is slated for the upcoming week.  I add the events of the week ahead, and divide them up by days.  

The thing is, I know that the whole planning/goal setting industry has exploded in the last decade, since I was a young mom.  Now you can find all sorts of planners and list pads for every area of your life, at every price point imaginable.  I see on Facebook that some of you go to fancy, sold-out conferences for these sorts of things and I’m not gonna lie, I might get a little bit jealous.  Though, part of me thinks that I’m dangerous enough with the little basic system I’ve developed for myself and that it’s probably a good thing that I wasn’t armed with all of that gear back when I had 4 young’uns, age 5 and under.  The Lord knows our limits, doesn’t He?

Some of you just read those four paragraphs and pictured yourself in prison, right?  Why in the world would someone micro-manage their life like that.  I can assure you that when I have a conversation with a friend who doesn't have a plan for XYZ that is coming up in 6 days, I feel the same kind of walls closing in.  I am so glad that God made us such diverse creatures.  I am also glad that I have learned to appreciate diversity in other women more and more as I have entered my  40s.  

Generally, my little weekly system works pretty well,  even when written on plain old college ruled-loose leaf paper that was left behind by some retiring missionaries.  I honestly believe that, for me, I get way more accomplished with that little bit of time invested in planning, than I would without it.  I also think that I am ultimately less stressed, because I can clearly see what I need to do and what can wait.

But, there is one thing that keeps getting put at the bottom of the list.  Every week, and I mean EVERY week, I put “Blog” on the list.  Why do I put it there?  Because I love to do it.  After list-making, it’s one of my favorite ways to decompress.  Yet, week after week, it goes undone.  It doesn’t really stress me out, because I don’t “need” to blog.  It just makes me a bit sad that I am not better about attending to the things I enjoy.  

I look back to the times when I was blogging regularly and wonder how I did it.  Then I remember, "Oh yeah, I had a dishwasher, naptimes instead of taxi duty, a mom who took the kids one morning a week, fast food restaurants, convenience grocery options, produce that didn't have to be bleached before eating, and steady electricity, internet, and water...just to name a few things!  So, it is understandable that I just don't have as much "me" time.  And yet, I still need to have some things that keep my feeling like a human being with a soul that delights in things which I find beautiful,  and not just a workhorse. 

That’s a hard concept for me.  I am not good about caring for my own self.  I am quick to meet the needs of others, and, when I take the time to, I often feel so guilty.  Why is that?  I know I’m a better wife and mom when I create some space for the things I love and yet I rarely do it.  It seems the “me” things are  always the thing that can wait.  It’s something I am working on.  Something I am trying to find a better rhythm with.  At the rate I’m going, I’ll have it figured out by the time our nest is empty and it’s just the two of us again.

Speaking of which, one of the things I would have blogged about if I was better about making time for it, is the fact that my college sweetheart and I celebrated 21 years of wedded bliss a few weeks ago.  Since we married at the tender age of 21, that means we have now been married for 1/2 of our lives!  I’m not gonna lie, there have been some hard times walking this road together.  There have been a few seasons where the single life had a whole lotta luster for me.  But, in the end, with lots of prayer and re-focusing, and just good-old fashioned commitment, we always get to the point where we find the other one to be “our favorite” again.  God led me well when it came to choosing a spouse and I am so, so thankful.  

Here’s a little picture of us, headed out to dinner on our anniversary.  Moms of young children, be assured, there will come a day when your little ones will be able to take post-worth photos.  However, I can’t guarantee that by the time that happens the wrinkles won’t be coming on fast!  Embrace them, they are likely hard-earned!