this mom's identity...

On Fridays over here a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind 

and just write gather to share what five minutes buys them. 

Just five minutes. 

Unscripted. Unedited. Real.

Your words. 

This shared feast.

Those are Lisa Jo's words... joining with her and her writing community at Gypsy Mama for five minute Friday.   

Today's topic: identity

GO

I wrote of this yesterday... this sense of finding my identity now that my children need me less and less.  A decade and a half of my life spent as Mama, Mommy, Mom.  A decade spent educating at home... gathering around great books, exploring together through field trips, and living life together.  I would do it all again.. over and over and over.

I wouldn't have spent this time in my life any other way.  I'm now wondering though, what do I do next?  In investing that much of my life, I also invested my identity.  I laugh because I meet people in my area now who say to me, "oh, you're that homeschool mom." To my children's friends, I am "Eric's mom" or "Emily's mom" or "Ellen's mom."  Perhaps to the neighborhood dogs, I am even "Ebony's mom."

I knew parenting wasn't for the faint of heart before I jumped in.  I did not know, though, that I would willingly invest myself to my very core into the lives of these 3 Es.  I didn't know that I would want to give up my individual identity in order to help them form theirs.  I didn't know they would become so much of who I am.

Even in the midst of a new school this year... a broken arm and a 3 hour surgery... a trip to another country... writing a novel... and another year of homeschooling my youngest, I've spent this year re-evaluating.  

Who am I?  What will I do next?  What is my purpose?  My worth?  My identity?

I don't have all the answers yet... and I may never.  However, I do know the One who knows.  And... I know that my true identity belongs in Him.  

I also know that my children will always need me.  

They have their own identities now... I don't need to give them mine.

STOP

velveteen real... 5 minute Friday

It's Friday... well, just barely... but Friday, nonetheless... thus, it is 5 minute Friday time!!


It's that time, where, to quote Lisa Jo, aka the gypsy mama, we write...


On Fridays over here a group of people who love to go all out buck wild for the fun of the written word gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes. Unscripted. Unedited. Real.


Today's topic... real...

GO


What is real?  It's a question a soft and smooth bunny once asked.  He asked the old and worn and well played with horse this question.  Perhaps the rabbit was simply making conversation... or, perhaps, he was seeking.  Seeking something that seemed unattainable.


Real.  I want it.  I seek it.  It often alludes me.  


I think I want it.  I think I want to be real... to show the real me... until I look in a mirror.  What looks back is not what I want to be seen.  Just as when I reveal the "real" me, what comes out is not what I want others to see.


Being real is a great catch phrase.  It's a great excuse.   It's not for the faint of heart.  For being real requires courage... being authentic requires strength.  Revealing the "real" me requires me to strip of the pride, self-righteousness, and arrogance that I clothe myself in to hide the naked truth... I am a mess.


What is real?  For me... for such a time as this... real is the opposite of having it all together and acting as such.  


It's much easier to pretend than to be real.  Perhaps someone should have told the Velveteen Rabbit that all those years ago.  


...but, then again, the old horse might have been on to something when he told the little bunny that though being real hurt, it was worth it because when you are real, you are loved.


STOP

clique or community... five minute Friday

It's Friday... the day when we gather at Lisa Jo's to write on one common topic for five minutes.  We write simply to write... no worries, no critiques.


I'm finding myself looking forward to Friday and to what the common theme will be.  Today our theme is...

community

GO

I think we have all been created for community.  Most of us long for it and some of us pine for it.  In the Christian women circles I've seen, it seems as if the longing for or pining for is exasperated.

For instance... how many times have you heard the word "clique" in Christian women circles?  In my world, I'm not sure I can count that high.  However, have you ever heard Christian men complain about cliques in their church, school world, and social world?  Not likely.

I'm generalizing here but there are many, many Christian women who complain about cliques.  I've noticed that they only complain when they perceive there is a community of friends and they are not included.   IKR?

What if, instead of complaining about cliques, we started working towards community?  What if instead of complaining about the cliques in our worlds, we, instead, developed community of like-minded friends who meet together, encourage one another and develop deep roots?  What if instead of complaining, we act?

Not all of us will fit in the same community.  I think thirty years ago, someone should have said "THAT'S OKAY!!"  It's okay that we don't fit in with a particular community... it's even okay that they don't want us...  

because....

you can start your own community!!!  (not quite rocket science but close...)  Seriously, ladies, let's all stop blaming our insecurities on this perceived clique or that one and instead start investing in community with one another.  

Find like-minded women and invest in a community.... trust me, it's way better than complaining about the community that you perceive is an exclusive clique. 

STOP

...forgive me... obviously this is brewing deep within... and has been for a very long time.  


Once upon a time, the young, teenage me complained to my mom that all the "cool kids" were doing their own thing after youth group.  I was appalled that I had not been invited and immediately assumed I was purposely excluded.  With hardly an acknowledgement of my perceived predicament, my mother wisely said, "so start your own cool kids group and do your own cool things.  Cool is only a perception of yours.  Overcome it!"


Ladies... I venture to say that your perceived cliques and your own perceived exclusion is just that... your perception.  And, if I'm wrong, why would you want to be with those people anyway?


...I'm done now...

five minute Friday... goodbye

Linking up with the writing community at gypsy mama again for five minute Friday... that time when we write just to write...  we write on one common theme for five minutes without worry of syntax, grammar, verb tense, spelling, punctuation, and the like.  Care to join in?


Today's topic?  ... goodbye.  


GO


A timely topic, to be sure.  In approximately 16.5 hours, I drop them off, kiss them goodbye, and drive away.  They will get on a bus and drive 3 hours the other way... to the airport... to fly to Guatemala.


I woke up this morning with my heart in a knot, again.  This time I recognize the angst for what it is.  Last year, when they left, I couldn't articulate how I felt deep inside.  I didn't know the words for the thrill that my man and my girl were going to serve others and the deep loneliness without them.  


Someday I will go and there will be no goodbye.  I think sooner than later, we will all go... five of us getting on a bus in the middle of the night to spend 20 hours traveling.  We will do this as a family.  


Until then, though, tonight I will kiss my man and my girl goodbye and send them on... on to serve and I will remain and pray...


... and count the days until they return eight days later.


STOP

gift... 5 minute Friday

...joining in with Lisa Jo and her 5 Minute Friday community, again... that place in the bloggy world where we write for five minutes flat on a one-word common topic.  We write because we are writers, not because we want to impress one another.  We write without correction, and then we read each other's thoughts... and I'm always impressed.   


Care to join in?  Today's word... gift.


GO


I write a lot about gifts.  I keep a list of my grace gifts, I blog about gifts... I even wrote a novel about gifts.  I love gifts.  


I'm learning, though, that I'm a bit of a gift snob.  I like the good gifts... no, actually LOVE the good gifts.  I pick and choose... I don't LOVE, in fact, I don't even LIKE the not so good gifts.   I whine and complain about those.  


They are gifts though... the gifts of heartache and shame that cause me to run to the Throne of Grace... the gifts of pain and discomfort that cause me to rely not on my strength, but on His... the gifts of disappointment and discouragement that remind me this world is not my home.


I started a list of gifts a few years ago.  For a long time, the list only consisted of the "good gifts" that I found in each new day.  Gifts such as... a beautiful sunrise, a flower from my girl, a word of thanks from the man-cub, a note on my bathroom mirror from the woman-child.  All good gifts, and my heart was thankful.


Somewhere over that time... He has taken my heart on a life field trip to see the good in all of it... to see that He is the Redeemer and He can take an achy heart and cause it to praise Him... to understand that it is He that makes beauty from ashes, and makes all things new.


I love gifts and listing gifts.  I love, even more, that my Savior isn't finished with me yet.  He's teaching me new things... He's teaching me to count it all on my list of gifts because He is my Redeemer.


STOP

5 minute Friday...ache...

On Friday's, we gather at the gypsy mama to write.  We write for five minutes flat on one shared topic.  


We write because we love words, love stringing them together, and love to read each other's words.  We don't worry about grammar and such things as spelling or punctuation.  We just have fun.  


Today's topic... ache.  Care to join in?

ache

GO


I see him look down at the floor, the chair, his sleeve... anywhere but in the eyes that probe.  


"If God were to come to you in a dream, like He did to Solomon, what would you ask for?"


He asked each one of our children this question.  He, who is their daddy, looked at each one and said, "What would you ask of God?"


The biggest one... the one that is rapidly approaching 6'2" quietly replied, "discernment."


The Mom in me scoffed internally.  I thought it was a cop-out answer.  One where the 15 year old forgot to do his homework and so he replied with the first thing that came to his mind.  Maybe it was... maybe it wasn't.  Either way, it was his answer.


"Why?" I asked, gently.  Another life lesson in learning to be more of a spiritual responder and less of an emotional reactor.  When the word left my lips, even I was surprised at the gentle tone and friendly inflection.  Wow!  Apparently, an old dog can learn new tricks and even more apparent to me, God is changing me.


"I would like to know more of the direction of my life," was the quiet reply.  


...in that quiet moment, the ache settled deep in my sarcastic heart.  The ache that might just be inherent to every single mother out there... the ache that reminds me that I cannot fix everything for this boy I love the most.   


It is the ache that reminds me to be on my knees before the Throne... for the rest of his life.


STOP

reckless trust...

Joining in, again,

with the 5 minute Friday

community 

at Gypsy Mama

the goal?

write for 5 minutes

without stopping

on one topic...

no correcting...

no cut and pasting...

no revisions...

the topic?

TRUST

GO

Do I trust Him or me?  To I sell out to "playing it safe" or do I wholeheartedly jump in with reckless trust?

The irony?  It's in the reckless trust that I'm safest.

Moses.  The man God chose to free the Israelites.  The man God chose to use in mighty, mighty ways.  The man God chose to get under Pharoah's skin.  

This Moses.  He spent 40 years in a dead-end job.  He worked for his father-in-law shepherding his sheep.  Poor guy!  Oh yeah, it was his own fault.  He killed an Egyptian and ran away.  

This Moses was hiding in a sheep field working a dead-end job keeping his in-laws happy when God suddenly came down right in front of his face... in a desert bush that burned without burning up.  

Moses!

The thing that strikes me the most, lately, is that God commanded Moses to throw down his staff.  His staff... the one thing that identified who he was.  It was his weapon against prowlers, his tool to guide his sheep, and his identity to those who saw him.  After 40 years, it probably became a very real part of who Moses was. 

"What's that in your hand?"  God asked.  

"A staff."  I wonder what Moses was thinking.  It's probably not polite to say "Duh, God!"

"Throw it down!"

Ummm... ok... but really?  It's just a staff.  A piece of wood.  But... it's MY staff... my piece of wood... my identity.  

I wonder how many times God tells me to let go of something and I don't.  I want to be a Moses... I want to trust Him and let go of the very things that identify who I am.

Why?

Because that staff turned into a snake!!  Yep.  Moses' God, my God... maybe your God.. He does stuff like that.  Moses' identity turned into God's identity.  God used it to change history.  No longer just a shepherd's staff... this staff turned snake turned staff again became God's tool, not Moses'.  A mighty, Mighty tool, too!

STOP

** a little disclaimer... I just learned that I'm lousy at exercises like this... I never realized that I use my "delete" aka "backspace" button like a regular button on my keyboard.  Without stopping to think, I reach up and backspace and correct myself all the time! Ooops... so there are still probably big errors because I haven't proofed this... I fail miserably at the no correction thing.

also... I loose track of time when I write.  This was 8 minutes.  

.... much to learn!