The first time I remember waking up

in the night was in the winter time

when I was about six.  Papa had sent

the tobacco crop to Louisville

to be sold, and we sat by the fire

that night, talking and wondering

what it would bring.  It was a bad time.

A year of a man's work might be worth

nothing.  And Papa got up at two o'clock.

And I woke up and heard him leaving.

He saddled his horse and rode over

to the railroad, four miles, and took

the train to Louisville, and came back

in the dark that night, without a dime.

-poem by Wendell Berry

There are real, heavy burdens people are carrying around today.  From meeting bills, the health and survival of ill children, and renewed visas for missionary families living in foreign countries, to our children's night terrors and playground bullies.  This stuff is real.  Where to go and what to do with these real, heavy burdens?  

We want to demonstrate for our children faith, trust, and hope.  They need to see us in the fire, resting, with palms turned up, breathing deeply.  Stepping out of the boat in the midst of the storm, trusting and walking toward Him.  Our dinner table prayers must go from simple, surface rote to deep and honest conversations with a God who cares.  As we grow in faith through the pain and the fear, they will learn faith as it really is.  Coming to God with all our heavy burdens, that we all might experience God's glorious exchange as He takes from us our load and gives us His easy yoke.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and heavy burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” 

(Matthew 11:28-30)

What does this mean, practically?  What does it look like in the midst of suffering and uncertainty?  How can we give him our burdens when He doesn't usually choose to take away the bankruptcy, illness, or hard reality we are suffering under?

I think that the lesson I'm learning is that in the exchange, it's not the circumstance He is trading with us -- it's the ease with which we are able to shoulder it when we are yoked with HIm.  He takes the weariness and infuses our circumstances with renewed hope that brings light to the dark.  A lift and support under the weight as we are tethered to the mightiest, most loving God.

I remember my mother sitting by my step-father's bedside as he suffered and ultimately died from Leukemia.  What she experienced during the time she carried that real, heavy load, was that God cares.  Selah.  He cares.  And she was astounded that with all the suffering throughout the world, even to it's very ends, he was caring for all His children in all creation.  And the joy she experienced because of such wondrous knowledge was what lifted her shoulders beneath the burden, her countenance behind her tears, and her heart amidst such heartbreak.

I was watching my mother as she took her heavy laden heart to Him and received HIs nearness, His good, His comfort, and the knowledge of His extravagant care.  

I love the poem above.  It paints such a picture that the children are watching, that they know our struggles and are learning from us as we sit by the fire, talking and wondering (and praying) together.

May God Bless you today, whatever real, heavy loads you may be shouldnering.  Bring it to Him.  O, bring it to Him.

It's Tuesday, or Gratituesday as I've come to know it.  Ironically Tuesday is the toughest day of the week for me to practice a Grateful Spirit because it's Laundry Day for this Mama.  

Knowing Laundry day is a challenge for me I have two things hung above my washing machine to keep me moving when I'd rather let the laundry sit in heaps.  The first is a darling sign my Mother bought for me a couple years ago that reads:  

MOTHERS OF BOYS

WORK FROM SON UP

TO SON DOWN.  

It makes me laugh, though I do beg to differ - my version would say, "This mother of boys works from Son up to Husband down."  Can I get a witness?  And the other thing that's hung at eye level in the laundry room is an old and tattered piece of paper with these words written upon it:  

Whatever you do, work at it with all your heart, as working for the Lord, not man, since you know... it is the Lord Christ you are serving.  (Colossians 3:23-24)

It's a reminder for me to serve my family as serving the Lord Himself, who gave them to me.  When I grumble as I switch out loads, I'm reminded by these words to displace my grumbling with silent prayers of thanksgiving.  "Thank you Lord, for the dirty little creative boy who splattered paint on this shirt.  Thank you that we have our washing machine here in the house to make this job easier on me.  Thank you that when it breaks down I have a husband who either fixes it or calls to have a repair man come out.  Thank you for all of these modern day appliances.  You know I wouldn't have made a very good Pioneer woman, Lord.  O thanks, God... for everything this Laundry Day!"  

When I let it, Laundry Day reminds me that I am not alone, but have a family to love and be loved by. Yes, it's true, they make messes, they continue to get hungry multiple times each day, and they rather like their clothes clean before wearing them again...  Go figure!  But they are mine, and I am there's, and it is a blessing to be a family.  

I love these lyrics by Steven Curtis Chapman.  I should crank it up and put it on repeat each Tuesday as I make my way through 12 loads... again.

Do Everything

You’re picking up toys on the living room floor

for the 15th time today

Matching up socks and sweeping up lost

Cheerios that got away

You put a baby on your hip and color on your lips

and head out the door

And while I may not know you I bet I know you

Wonder sometimes does it matter at all

Well let me remind you it all matters just as long as you

Do everything you do to the glory of the One who made you

Cause He made you to do

Every little thing that you do to bring a smile to His face

And tell the story of grace

With every move that you make

And every little thing you do

"Serve the Lord with gladness!"

(Psalm 100)

MORNING PERSON

poem by Vassar Miller

God, best at making in the morning, tossed

stars and planets, singing and dancing, rolled

Saturn’s rings spinning and humming, twirled the earth

so hard it coughed and spat the moon up, brilliant

bubble floating around it for good, stretched holy

hands till birds in nervous sparks flew forth from them

and beasts – lizards, big and little, apes

lions, elephants, dogs and cats cavorting,

tumbling over themselves, dizzy with joy when

God made us in the morning too, both man

and woman, leaving Adam no time for

sleep so nimbly was Eve bouncing out of

his side till as night came everything and

everybody, growing tired, declined, sat

down in one soft descended Hallelujah.

I awoke exactly fifteen minutes before the alarm was scheduled to go off this morning.  Had the alarm been set for 5:45 then the whole house would have stirred with me, so this was especially sweet.  I reached silently for the alarm to turn its control to off and felt a little body move slightly at my back.  When did he crawl in? I wondered as I picked up my phone and hit my Bible App.  

The light from the screen shone bright, too bright.  So I squinted until my eyes adjusted to the glare.  Reading through the end of Joshua, I was reminded again of all of Israel's great victories as they followed the Lord into the promised land.  How many times I've seen my own life as a journey, following God through joyful times as well as strenuous seasons that required increased faith and persistence.  

After my 15 minutes of quiet I turned the phone to off and heard a raspy little voice ask, "Can I please play angry birds now that you're done reading the Bible on your phone?"  I laughed and squeezed him tight, then turned the phone on and found his favorite game.  Just as he began to play the other two boys came into the room asking when their turns would be.  Yep, 6am on the nose... and away we went.

The last four years have been nearly impossible for me to fit a regular quiet time into my days.  I usually wake up before the alarm goes off because someone needs me, and then go to sleep when the last one is done with me.  During the dry seasons I hold tight to the scriptures hidden in my heart but this year I finally hit a place of deep hunger... and knew I needed new sustenance for my life and my soul.  But where would I fit it in on a regular basis?  

That's when a friend suggested I give God the "First Fruits of my Day."  I chuckled, though rather annoyed, sure that she hadn't been listening to how my mornings begin.  But she went on to say that when I am awakened by the needs of all those I serve, then my time has not yet been my own.  It's only once the children are fed and dressed and the big ones are off to school and the little ones are home again and settled into their play, that I might be able to deny the dishes and laundry and rest in the first few moments that are actually mine... My "first fruits"  of the day.  

And so I have been doing that.  But it's harder than it may seem.  It requires serious self-discipline to say NO to so much.  Not just the crumbs on the floor or the loads of clean laundry yet to be folded and put away, it requires self-control against anything that would steal away my time with Him.  Checking email or stopping by facebook to see what friends are up is my barometer to recognize when my "first fruits" have arrived.  

When the children are playing and a moment's peace is mine, I find that my first thought tends to be, "I wonder which of my 'friends' have reached out to me."  But as sudden as the thought comes into my head, a new one now replaces it... "there's only one relationship that deserves my first moments."  And that's when I grab my phone or my (old-school) Bible and turn to where I last left off.  

It's been marvelous, life-giving, and challenging to be back in a consistent relationship with the One who made me.  He loves me so much more than any of my "friends" and setting Spiritual Disciplines like this helps me to love Him first, put Him first, and give Him my first fruits each day.

p.s. -- Another Mom Blogger recently wrote a post about one of her recent quiet times and what she learned there.  I really enjoyed it.  Visit her  at: Renewing Housewives   

I've heard it said, "Happiness has to do with what's HAPPENING!"  

i.e. -- I'm eating chocolate, the house is clean, all the windows are open and a breeze is wafting through the rooms and mingling with my very favorite music, and in this moment nobody has a bottom in need of wiping, therefore, I am happy.  But what to do when the house is torn apart, nap-time didn't go so well, little Johnny threw up on the carpet, and not a morsel of chocolate can be found in the pantry?  No wonder we are prone to despair... Happiness is so fleeting.

Just the other day Matt and I were talking to friends and describing a beautiful moment of family togetherness.  Matt chuckled and then confessed, "And then we loaded the boys into the car and the moment was over.  The kids were hungry, complaining, hitting, crying, and altogether miserable."  Yes, our picture-perfect, idyllic family moments come and go (oftentimes too quickly), and we long for something to sustain us — something more permanent.

That's why we need JOY.  

Joy is not dependent upon our circumstances, the health of those we love, or how physically well-rested we are; JOY comes from abiding in Him, ever thankful that He abides in us.

In Your Presence is Fullness of Joy...  (Psalm 16:11)

So how do we make a practice of abiding in His Presence?  I believe it begins with making the choice and then being self-disciplined.  It takes forethought, practice, and sacrifice, until it becomes habitual.  

For me, abiding in Him throughout the day includes time in His Word, that I might dwell on what's important to Him.  On the busiest of days, when I drop this blessed practice, and life spins into weary chaos, I am reminded again how crucial my time reading the Bible is.

Second to that is something very similar to the Army of Spy games our boys devise... as they play, running and hiding behind trees, looking out at either real or perceived enemies, they speak constantly into their imagined walkie-talkies "Roger that, commander" they whisper in all sincerity.  "I'm going in..."

In 1 Thessalonians 5, we are given a list of things the Christian should do, and sandwiched between rejoicing always and giving thanks in everything, is this simply command: pray without ceasing... for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

Are we in constant communication with our commanding officer as we serve and play with little ones?  Do we purposefully stay in touch with Him as we balance the checkbook, do the dishes, fold laundry, and then do the dishes again?  When our happenings are good and when they are strenuous and challenging, are we praying without ceasing to the One who cares and extends peace and Joy in the midst of it all?  

When we trust in His care and concern, delighting in His forgiveness and extending it to others, intentionally turning our eyes off of our challenges and onto Him, we are in His Presence... where Joy is found.

Yesterday I wrote about displacing our negative emotions and focus to mount The Joyful Experience of Gladness.  This is along those same lines.  When we are living for Happiness we are continually grasping for one thing or activity after another to make us happy... let us let go of what we are grabbing at for momentary happiness and instead take the Father's hands, extended to us.  And let's dance.  

Sally Clarkson uses this analogy in her latest book, Dancing With My Father.  If you are struggling with your desire to take hold of Joy, but it seems too elusive or far off, this book will bring it near enough to reach out and touch.  

Let us run this race, with perseverance, Ladies.  Do not give up.  Our God is not far off, He is not playing tricks and trying to make it confusing for us.  He just wants us to draw near to Him, where lasting Joy is found.

When I began this blog back in July, 2011, I had one purpose:  To honestly share with others my Mothering journey, ever pointing to Jesus as the source of my strength and love in the midst of the chaos..  My husband looked through my first couple of posts and asked, "are you sure you want people to know how hard Mothering has been for you?"  

"Yes," was my answer, " because it's equally hard for the majority of moms out there... but no body admits it.  I want to admit it to the ladies in my sphere of influence, so that together we can look to Jesus to infuse our troubled times of parenting with His Patience, Grace, and Love."   But it starts with sharing our weaknesses with one another.

And so that is what I have attempted to do these past couple of months.  

Looking back over the course of my musings I have to ask, "how am I doing?  Am I sharing honestly, ever pointing to Jesus?"  I think I have been.  At least I've tried.  But something has been missing, I'm aware.  Three little letters, comprising one big word... JOY! 

But even if I am being poured out like a drink offering on the sacrifice and service coming from your faith, I am glad and rejoice with all of you.  So you too should be glad and rejoice with me.

( Philippians 2:17-18 )

Sisters, this is the component I tend to miss out on:    Gladness and joy while serving my little men.  

Paul here is talking to the church in Philippi, his Spiritual children... but the message is much the same for us and our children.   ...Even if  I am all poured out, like a spent cup of water, (refreshing others around me) I am glad and express JOY with those I am serving. So that they too can have JOY and express it to me!

When our home lacks joy, there's only one place to look:  The mirror.  I am the mother, the blessed servant of our family, the heart of our home.  And if i cannot find and express the joy or pouring myself out for them each day, then joy will cease flowing in our midst. 

I do not like doing laundry, it's true.  And the never ending dishes and meals and correction leaves me all spilled out at times.... but still I must find the reason to rejoice with my family and with you all. That they, and you too, might be glad and rejoice with me.

But how do we find the JOY when we've spilled out until we're dry, bone-dry?  I think the secret comes from displacing emotions.  I recently read a blog post at GraceFullMama.com where she quoted this wonderful gem:

Today, when stress mounts, I pray to dismount it with gratitude. I can only feel one feeling at a time, and I choose to give thanks at all times. Fight feeling with feeling!”- Ann Voskamp

So what can I displace to make room for Joy?  

I think it comes down to self-love.  When we are weary we are aware of our own self; poured out and dry.  But if I can turn my eyes outward, upon the ones who are soaking wet and sloshing through the service and sacrifice of my love, I can rejoice that they are not parched but are growing in the faith.  And because I dismount self-love and my weary self-focus, then I can fully mount up upon the joy of knowing they have received the outpouring of my love.  And in turn, they will share their joy with me.

It is my hope that I will grow to be a mother (and a writer) who displaces grumbling with thanksgiving, self-love with others-centered love, weariness with the refreshing that can only come from Him.  It is my prayer today that as I "rejoice with all of you, that you too should be glad and rejoice with me."

How about you? Comment below if you desire to be glad in your mothering.  Let's encourage one another in this together.  Joy is contagious.  Joy is the answer.  Let's dismount all that stands in our way, throw off the sins that so easily entangle us, and mount up upon His wings and be glad.

In his book, Sacred Marriage: What If God Designed Marriage to Make Us Holy More Than To Make Us Happy, author Gary Thomas likens marriage to a laboratory for Holiness.  I whole-heartedly agree.  

You may recall that I began reading through The Respect Dare by Nina Roesner a few weeks ago, and have to confess that I'm only on day 7.  My confession isn't that I've been lazy, but that I have been actively busying myself with the business of respecting my husband.  And it's been a full time job here in the laboratory of our marriage.  I had purposed to take my daily challenges one at a time, making sure I truly understood them before moving on to the next one... and there have been a few dares in the first week that I've really camped out on and exercised.  

The two biggest challenges for me thus far have been, first, how my home making and mothering is a way for me to esteem my husband - If the house is a wreck when he gets home and I'm constantly crying over the boys' behavior when he walks in the door, he won't feel he's entering a safe and welcoming place after his own long day.  The real conviction came in my quiet time thinking more about this idea.  Matt never leaves our home or comes home complaining about his responsibilities at work, and I trust him as our provider largely because of that.  Does Matt's heart trust in me as a homemaker and mother as I grumble grumble grumble?  

Secondly, I have needed some extra days to stop expecting him to notice all the stuff I'm doing before moving on to day 8!  Sounds simple enough, right?  But the extra special dinners, organized junk drawer (where he always gets lost looking for a pen or stamps), clean clothes all folded and put away by the time he got home (rather than heaped upon our bed), stopping what I wanted to do in lieu of sitting with him on the couch to watch yet another episode of "the office."  Little things, but they were little expressions of my love and respect for him, and I had to stop waiting for his praise and applause.  Once again I have to come back to my original reason for doing this dare... it's my job.  And I'm not in charge of his job, to love me well, only my job.

When the book The Love Dare came out, one of Matt's friends bought him a copy and challenged him to do the dare. (Insert pregnant pause here...) It sat on his bedside table untouched for months.

Based on the film "Fireproof", The Love Dare is also a 40 day challenge, intended to help married people better express love towards one another in small and large ways each day. Now since I knew what it was all about, it was hard to not feel bitter as it sat collecting dust.  Eventually I realized I was harboring hurt feelings and made the decision to stop waiting for Matt to pick up the book, and instead picked it up myself. I took it with me everywhere I went. As with my recent dare I didn't confine myself to one dare a day, but one dare at a time, until I understood how to make the challenge a life-style choice in our marriage...

Today, 7 days into this new dare, I wanted to share with you that I'm thankful.  I'm thankful for my husband.  I'm thankful for my home full of the stuff I get to pick up all day.  I'm thankful for the children I get to love on and train up.  I'm thankful for The Respect Dare.  And, I'm even thankful for the hard in our marriage - the laboratory where Holiness is produced.

If you haven't bought a copy of this book yet, do it now.  What a powerful challenge.  I dare you!

To My Mother

a poem by Wendell Berry

I was your rebellious son,

do you remember?  Sometimes 

I wonder if you do remember,

so complete has your forgiveness been.

So complete has your forgiveness been

I wonder sometimes if it did not 

precede my wrong, and I erred,

safe found, within your love,

prepared ahead of me, the way home,

or my bed at night, so that almost

I should forgive you, who perhaps

foresaw the worst that I might do,

and forgave before I could act,

causing me to smile now, looking back,

to see how paltry was my worst,

compared to your forgiveness of it

already given.  And this, then, 

is the vision of that Heaven of which 

we have heard, where those who love

each other have forgiven each other,

where, for that, the leaves are green,

the light a music in the air,

and all is unentangled,

and all is undismayed

Has there ever been a more splendid ode to a Mother's forgiveness than the poetic lines above?  I don't think so.  And yet, I would love for my mothering-life to reflect such grace, spilled out new every morning.  Yes, a true picture of Heaven.  And why shouldn't it be a picture of Heaven?  The forgiveness we earthly parents extend to our children is but a blurry reflection of the forgiveness we have first received from our Heavenly Father.

So, why do we often times find ourselves shackled again and again by feelings of anger that smack of unforgiveness as Moms?  

I've had some of you ask me recently, "are you able to laugh at the rough and tumble, often times violent or just plain bizarre, antics of your boys?"   In cases like Brody's very public fit last week when I wouldn't take him home early from his first day of Kindergarten, you bet I can laugh.  But there are many times I can't and I don't.

I know other moms who can and do, and I envy their quick chuckles and twinkling eyes.  They see their children as children just being children, and don't  take their fits or quirks personally.  When I watch them I cry, "that's the mother I long to be!" from inside my grim-faced shell.  So what's the difference between the laughing and the scowling mothers?  

There's a fountain that seems to well up from the ladies who open their mouths wide in laughter; a natural source that their "multitude" just can't seem to stop up with their childishness.  It comes from somewhere deep and true and unchanging.  And it's called JOY.

A joyful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones.

(Proverbs 17:22)

The times I am most slow to laugh and quick to feel anger are when I am tired.  Bone weary.  When the longest of days have been made longer by constant complaints and whines for more; when everything I set upon the table illicit a "yucky" response; When I am all spent from a day's worth of giving only to tuck the boys into bed with cries of injustice ringing from all three rooms, I do not find myself in a laughing mood.  But the true heartbreak for me is not my grumpy, weary heart... but how slow I am to forgive when the laughter ceases.

Weary days are crushing days, and I long for a good dose of joyful heart!  But again I ask, where can it be found when I am all wrung out?  God's Word promises us this:

In His Presence is fulness of Joy!

(Psalm 16:11)

Joy can be found in God's Presence.  I know this to be true:  When I abide in His Presence and He literally abides in me, there is fruit that springs forth from my life.  The fruit includes Joy!  JOY!  Joy is born and expressed in my life when I draw near to the God who loves and forgives me fresh each day. And the more I live joyfully, the easier I find it to forgive the childishness of my children.  Because a joyful heart has been my medicine.  

Crushed bones have a hard time walking in forgiveness, but healthy bones, that rest in their own forgiveness, are able to forgive.

I want to be a laughing Mother to my sons; a forgiving Mother to my boys; a Mother whose forgiveness is so great, it seems more like a safety net, in which my children can fall, "safe found" within my love.  And when the day coms for them to write a note to me, their mother, as the poet did to his mother above, it would be my delight if they added a line about the sound of my laughter, the twinkle in my eye, and the joy in our home.

If you keep my commandments, you will abide in My love,

just as I have kept My Father's commandments and abide in His love.

These things I have spoken to you, that my joy may remain in you,

and that your joy may be full.  (John 15:10-11)