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

YES, Ma'am... you are amazing!

Do you know that you are amazing?

Yes... YOU!

and YOU...

and me...

we are all amazing!

I don't know about you, but I'm a middle-aged mom.  I've invested fifteen years into my offspring, eighteen years into my teammate.  I've done more loads of laundry than the sum total of the population of the state of Indiana... and I've probably done more dishes than that.   I've homeschooled for a decade and I changed diapers for almost that many years.  And, I've fallen into bed exhausted night after night wondering if I managed to accomplish anything in my day.

For all this time, mothering is how I've defined myself.  It's where I found my spot in this world and it fulfilled a deep need in me that I didn't even know existed.

What do I do now?

What do you do when your family needs you less and less?  

What do you do when you're no longer sure of your place because your place is fading?  What do you do when you find yourself a middle-aged mom 

whose children need her less and less?

Instead of putting myself out to pasture, I want to encourage you... and you... and me.  Though we may be middle-aged mothers with increasingly independent children, we are still amazing women.  We have been created in the image of the Creator with specific gifts and abilities personally designed for each of us.

Take a moment this weekend as your family celebrates you (and if they don't celebrate you, call me and I will!).  Look at what you've done!  You are an expert in managing, multi-tasking, event planning, transporting, training, educating, task completing, and the list goes on and on.  You had "real-life" training... you excelled... you have much to offer... you are the expert!

Join me this weekend in celebrating our accomplishments as Middle-Aged Amazing Moms (MA'AM)... YES, Ma'am... you are amazing!

I'd love a comment hearing of 

what makes you amazing...


joining with my sister
and the community at 
imperfect prose

team of two on GratiTuesday...

A week ago, we celebrated our eighteenth wedding anniversary... nothing fancy, just lunch out at an authentic taco stand.  The fact that he had returned to home the night before from eight days in Guatemala was enough for me.

I missed him while he was gone.... I missed him much!  Isn't it amazing what we don't realize we have until it's gone?  The void of him gone was much bigger than the hole in my heart that he filled all those years ago.  

Know what I missed the most, though?  I missed my teammate.  For these years, we've been a team.  Sometimes we've been amazing together... like the Chicago Bulls of the 1990s... we've been unstoppable.  During those times, women have commented to me, "I wish I had a marriage like yours."  It was good.

We've also been a team much like last year's Indianapolis Colts.  Times where one (or both) of us has abdicated our role and stepped out of the game.  It becomes quite obvious that you can't play without all the players.  Though no one said this, I wonder if people often thought, "why do they bother to stay married?"  It wasn't so good.

Years ago, my brother and sister in law wrote a marriage curriculum called "Team of Two."  At the time, they were a team of two, a family of two.  I ignorantly thought that that title had nothing to do with me because we were a team of four, almost five.  I missed the point... I think I even missed the entire target.  Their team of two was their marriage, not their family.  The two of them, regardless of how many children come later, were a team and they played the game of life together, both fulfilling their God-given roles.  Together their team was a force to reckon.

On this GratiTuesday, I'm respectfully borrowing Steve and Susy's title...  I am so grateful for my team of two!  Life is not easy and in these years of driving children to and fro and passing the baton back and forth, I often lose heart.  I'm easily overwhelmed with the details of when... where... and for how long.  Yesterday was one of those days.  A day where Chad was on call for surgery (this really means, don't count on him but he may be around...).  I've considered typing out the driving schedule I had yesterday for posterity but it really doesn't matter... it was simply a very busy day, and I thought I was the sole driver.  I forgot, for a moment, that we are a team of two.  The reminder came when the text came...

I'm off.  I will come get Eric and take him to work.

I was reminded, again, that I'm not in this parenting game alone.  I'm not in this marriage game alone.  I'm not even in the game of life alone.  I am in those things as a team member and thus, it doesn't fall on me to make sure the game happens.  Instead, we do it together, and I am grateful!

gainfully employed...

This mama's heart is happy...

after a great interview...

he's gainfully employed!

Do you suppose this

will help my grocery budget?

growth spurt...

The doctor told him, last week, that he was probably done growing.  At 6'2" and 15 years of age, he may only get one more inch of height.  

He was disappointed.

What he doesn't know, is that, really... the doctor doesn't know.  While it is true that this doctor has seen the inside (quite literally) of Eric's elbow and knows from first hand experience that there is no growth plate left... it is equally true that this doctor is making an educated guess.  Much more educated than my guess, I might add.

I tried to tell Eric this... 

I highly doubt that he believes me.  

I should have told him that he would grow in other ways... 

but, maybe he already knew that.

While he may be close to finished growing physically, he's doing an amazing amount of spiritual growing lately...  just about the time that this mom thought he had settled comfortably in a stagnant pond of mediocrity.


This one... that 6'2" 15 year old I mentioned... he shot up a few spiritual inches this week.  I've been praying for years that my children would experience God in ways that they recognize Him for Who He is.  I've prayed that God would be gracious and merciful and reveal Himself to them in ways that their own individual maturity could recognize.  I've prayed that He would move in their hearts and they would know Him.


Though he has known Jesus for most of his life...

he now knows Him deeper...

he knows what it's like to feel the Spirit move within...

he's felt the Wind stir...

he's obeyed the Voice, wondering...

and he's experienced the tears of joy that bubble up...

when you know you're part of something much greater than you

...just when this mom thought he was comfortably floating along, he gave his Bible away... to a friend in need.

...a spiritual growth spurt

of a tall 15 year old

and an answer 

to this mom's prayers.

let's party!

They're leaving ... on a jet plane... and I've decided to party while they're gone (my RN husband and 12 year old daughter are traveling to Guatemala today for a week long medical missions trip.  This is their second trip and I now understand that my heart will be in a knot for 8 days). 


 It's been a few years since I've joined the Ultimate Blog Party.   So, I figure there is no better way to make time go faster than to party, right?


Thanks to Janice and Susan at 5 Minutes for Mom for hosting the Ultimate Blog Party.  Join in!  

I'm Heidi... and, honestly, sometimes this is what being a mom to 3 feels like for me.  Crazy, out of control fun... and often my peripheral vision is blurry and unclear!  I never know what's coming next.  


I am mom to 4 Es (if you count the dog).  Eric is 15, Emily is almost 13, Ellen is 8, and Ebony, our lab/chow mix is 3.  For many years I described myself as a homeschool mom.  I found my identity in the homeschool community and started to dig deep roots there... thinking I would be the quintessential homeschool mother who graduates her brilliant children with high honors. 


The greatest lesson I'm learning these days is to not get very comfortable with life.  This place... this earth... this life, it's not my home.  God has taught me this lesson by uprooting me a few times.  Last year, he uprooted Eric and he went to public school and loves it!  He's a dynamite athlete and is excelling above our expectations with his academics and with his athletic ability.


So... I redefined myself as a homeschool mom of two girls and thought I could be happy letting Eric do his thing and I would graduate my two girls.  Wrong again.  In mid August of last year, God allowed Emily to win a one-year scholarship to our local Christian academy for 7-12 grades.  She loves it there and in her own right is excelling in sports and classes above our expectations.  She's clearly where God wants her... and I'm down to one at home.


I no longer have visions of grandeur and after ten years of homeschooling, I'm learning to redefine myself.   I'm realizing that I am uniquely made by my Creator to accomplish great things for Him.  I am not defined by one aspect of my life, whether good or bad.  Instead, there is a grander scheme and I have been made for more.

 I am a homeschool mom but I am also many other things...

I am child of the King, seeking to live for Him

I am a wife, of almost 18 years, who still struggles to put her husband first

I am a mother, to three incredible individuals

I am a home maker, whose home is constantly being unmade

I am a sister, who maybe is finally figuring out that sisters are your best friends for life

I am an aunt, I have 11 nieces and nephews who I adore

I am a friend, who is blessed beyond measure

I am an elders wife, though I often fail to embrace my role in ministry

I am an author, who, now that 2 kids are in school, is pursuing a life-long dream

So... you see, that funny iPhoto picture of Ellen and I.  I think it's an accurate portrayal of myself.  I'm learning to let go... to have fun but to not get comfy.  This life... my life... it's fleeing and maybe that is why the edges are blurry and unclear.  I don't need to see what is in the edges, I just need to keep my eyes on Jesus.

with a side of light cream...

Yep... it's my second post today.  Mostly 'cuz I have a lot of random thoughts swirling above and it's Tuesday... which means it's {virtual coffee} with Amy!!  So here's a much lighter post than the last few... lighter is better!


So... let's chat over some coffee or tea on this beautiful Tuesday.  Mine's iced with maple syrup and a little milk... ran out of half and half yesterday.  What I wouldn't do for a little cream this morning.... mmmm... 


Yes, you read that right.  Maple syrup in my coffee.  I think it's my new love.  I wouldn't have tried it though, if I hadn't given up coffee creamer.  I had a serious love affair with coffee creamer... after weeks and weeks of migraines and severe headaches, though, I started to take inventory of what I was consuming.  Over the past 10 years, I have slowly {read at at snail's pace... obviously, since this has been in the works for a decade, huh?} changed my eating habits.  So, anymore, there really isn't much that isn't good for me... except coffee creamer.  So, on a whim Saturday, I poured my java down the drain, gave away the remainder of my coffee creamer, and poured myself a new cup with maple syrup... OH YEAH!  I'm in love again... I may need to find something a little less expensive though....


Speaking of maple syrup, we didn't tap our trees this year because they started to bud early.  Amazingly, we were all kind of bummed, until my friend, Angie, called and said they had more sap than they knew what to do with and would I like some?  Yes ma'am!  So, Ellen and I trekked sap home and in the end got over a gallon of syrup!!

Maple syrup and my screen door, those are the things that make me think spring.  Sunday my screen door came back!  LOVE!!  Isn't he a great guy?   The really funny thing... see that hair?  About an hour after I took this picture, it was all gone.  He's back to a shaved head... another sign of warmer weather.


'k... just have to say... I don't like DST!!  Why is it we have to go back to being dark when I take Emme to school?  I just want to come home and crawl right back under the covers... yesterday, I did! ; )


Speaking of kids, the mancub goes back to the doctor today.  The boy's a little concerned.  He cannot extend his arm... not because of pain, because it won't go there.  So, we'll see what the one with more knowledge than us has to say.  So far, though, it hasn't slowed him down much.  He was playing back yard football yesterday... just catch and release but for him, it's better than nothing.


I really wish we were sitting across from one another today.  I'm having a hard time getting motivated to do anything.  Mostly I want to find a hands-on book {as opposed to ebook}, a blanket and head outside!  Since we haven't started school in these parts yet... it was a beautiful morning delay... maybe we'll take school outside the walls of this house.


So... what would you tell me if we were really playing hooky from school over coffee?  What's going on in your neck of the woods?


Join in!

when answered prayer takes time...

Time is such an elusive concept.  Try as you might,  you cannot nail jello to a tree, nor can you hold on to time.  It oozes in and out and around your fingers, runs down your arms as you try desperately to hold on to it.  And, all that is left is the sticky residue.  

Why is it that I know this about jello, and, 

yet, I fail to remember this about time?  

The greatest question is this... why, when I pray, do I expect the Creator of time, who is indeed timeless, to be bound by this elusive concept I call time?  


He created it when He separated the day from the night.  He owns it.... He owns my time as He is the only One who knows my days.  This my heart knows and recognizes...  

...the part my heart struggles with... 

His time and my time are not the same time.

Yesterday, I sat and watched and listened.  My man, the one who stole my heart 20 years ago or so, stood with a microphone, his Bible and the elements of communion on the table in front of Him.  He read of us, mere mortals, partaking of Christ's body.  He prayed that we would hunger for Him... desire more.  He stood there as a leader of our church, one of five elders who lead the sheep.  


He stood and read and prayed and my heart finally remembered.  My heart that suffers daily from amnesia, had forgotten the time I spent praying for a spiritual leader in our home.  My forgetful heart had forgotten the time on my knees with tears on my face praying that God would intervene... that He would raise up a leader within the walls of the house I call home.  I prayed that their daddy, those who were probably ages 7, 5 and 1, would lead them.


Yesterday, I looked and saw my girl who will soon be thirteen.... I saw her 15 year old older brother... and the 8 year old not-so-little-one.  Time has gone by while my heart has forgotten my prayer.  While the days between those prayers and now have been filled with ball practice, birthdays and family vacations, God was at work.  I couldn't see and I didn't know... the work that was done in the deep and private place of a soul that loves Jesus.

...all that time went by and I thought God had forgotten. 

 I forget, He never does.  

He who created time and created me... He who created my man and the three we call ours... He knew what this mere mortal thought she recognized years ago...


... He knew that NOW is the time for leadership in my home.  Now is the time to take a man cub and make him a man.  Now is the time to model for the one more woman than girl what a godly man looks like.  Now is the time... because time ticks by second by second and soon they will be the man or the woman looking for the godly man.  

Each evening, I sit and watch and listen as the leader of this home takes us through the Old Testament.  He who is faithful, even when I am not, gathers us around God's Word as we read and we pray together.  Sometimes I am tired... sometimes the kids are tired... sometimes we come with less than joyful hearts and yet he never waivers, he just reads and he prays... and we follow him.

Yesterday, my heart realized that answering prayer sometimes takes this elusive thought called time because God's time and my time are not the same... at all.


Joining in with the gratitude community at Ann's... counting the daily gifts of grace given by Grace on this Multitude Monday.  


~*~


... for a quick trip to Mama and Papa's
... for snippets of conversation on the way
... for a few moments each day with each of my 3 before the jello runs down the tree


... for rest
... for prayer
... for recognizing a spiritual battle for what it is


... for time with friends, new and old
... for the privilege to pray for loved ones
... for a mental-health day for the girl


... for a loose splint and less swelling
... for a PE teacher who understands
... for healing


... for times when He moves me from my comfort zone
... for words that came while fingers typed an email
... for prayer coverage


... for the recognition that the leader I prayed for is my life teammate
... for answered prayer, even when I don't realize it
... for the time between that makes us all more in His image

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

heart grit...

Writing and practicing today with the community at gypsymama.  We write for five minutes on one common theme.  No worries about misspellings, grammar or incomplete thoughts.  Just writing for writing's sake.   Today's theme?  

GRIT

Grit...
go


Grit... sometimes it's the grime on my counter or the mud on my floor.  Other times it's the ring around my bathtub or the stuck on toothpaste in the sink.  Unless I get the broom, the rag, or the sponge, those things seem to grow and multiply until the house is a wreck.  


But what about the grit in my heart and the grime in my soul?  The stuff that sneaks in and takes up residence... the bad attitude, anger, disappointment, envy, jealousy, self-righteousness, etc.  Much like my own home, if I don't clean it out, it seems to grow.  


Lately, it seems as if mothering and motherhood has shown me the grit in my heart.  In the eye roll, the sass, the deep sigh, I hear my children echoing their mother's attitude.  It stinks in my own heart.  It stinks, even more, when I hear it in theirs.


Time to clean out the grit.
stop


... care to join in?

the {heart} of an athlete

I'm not an athlete.  I wasn't born with an athlete's heart.  The kind of heart that deeply desires to be on a team... to compete... to fight through pain.  I wasn't born that way, instead I bore one... a boy with the heart of an athlete.

I'm convinced, now more than ever, that you are either born with the heart of an athlete or you are not.  I think it is intrinsic... not learned.  

I've watched the "greats"... Michael Jordan, Pete Rose, Bret Favre... these who were the best-of-the-best in their day seemingly not know what to do with themselves when their bodies were no longer able to compete at a high level of competition.  I've watched them try come-backs and fail.   I've seen the aged veterans resent the young upstarts.   I've judged them harshly.   I judged that which I did not understand.

I've watched and judged these, and others, not understanding that within them beats the heart of an athlete.  An athlete's heart continues to thump long after their body gives up.

I've seen this one {the one running in the black sweat pants} run and push himself to be faster, better... for the sake of the team.  It's not that he likes to run, because he really hates it.  Instead, he runs because he loves the competition.  I've seen him cheer on his teammates because he loves being on the team.   I've seen him play through pain because it's better than standing on the sidelines.

I don't always understand the heart of this one that I bore fifteen years ago.  I pray often for it, though.  I pray that he will use this athletic heart that God has given Him to give all glory to God.  I pray that his heart will choose good and not evil.  I pray that his heart will always follow God's will.  And, I pray, mostly, that he will allow God to use this time to mold and shape him into a man after God's own heart.

...because right now the heart of my athlete is very restless. 

uncomfortable...

Lord, we have become too comfortable,

Sitting across my living room last night, he prayed this.  Of all those gathered in my home, I've known him the longest.  I first met him 1983, years before I met the one I call my man.  I've known his wife almost as long.  Through the friendship of our sons we've become reacquainted.  

make us uncomfortable

He prayed this and my heart screamed NO!  NO MORE!!  A miscommunication with the facility that our church of 160 rents week after week and a bigger miscommunication with my man and I and I am welcoming sixty-six people into our home five minutes after I dash out ahead of them to do some sort of preparation.  How do you prepare for ten crock-pots and five salads?  Where do you put twelve desserts and eight casseroles?  Even more... where do you put 66 people?

so that we rely on You

...oh... yeah.... So that I rely on You.  Your power is made perfect in my weakness.  Your love shines through a dirty floor and a stack of towels on the bathroom counter.  Your grace offers nursing moms a closed door and an unmade bed for some privacy.  Your kindness says "Welcome!  Come in!"   Your goodness says, "Please, help yourselves."

I am the weaker vessel.  I did not say any of that.  In hindsight I only wish I had.  I wish I were Jesus gracious.  I wish I were Jesus kind and Jesus good.  I spout such platitudes... "this house belongs to Him, I want to use it for Him" and "all that I have is Yours" until He uses them.  Then I stomp the feet of my heart and clench its fists and allow "that's not what I meant" to seep in and start to poison my heart.  

I'm glad the other Chad prayed those words last night... words of insight, words of truth, words of grace.  The words that cooled my hot heart.  

When the last walked out the door and all that was left was a big bag of trash, I sat in the silence and listened.  I could still hear the laughter and the joy that these friends of ours brought.  

I'm sure I would have enjoyed that laughter and joy more, though, if I had listened when I was surrounded by those I love.

My list of grace gifts continues...

... for the right surgeon at the right time to put Eric's elbow back together

... for a great week with my son

... for no more pain

... for a return to school

... for surprisingly little school work to make up

... for lessons learned in communicating with the school

... for two emails this weekend as school officials strive to work with us

... for a heart that has cooled off 

... for the times God closes my mouth just as He closed the mouths of the lions with Daniel

... for the relationship my man has with Eric's surgeon

... for friends celebrating Sabbath with us

... for their wisdom in all things triathlon

... for laughter

... for great stories

... for life

... for a church that my children love

... for heart felt corporate prayer

... for honest prayer requests

... for friends

... for my man's hospitality

... for a slow morning

... for healing for my mom

... for fun phone conversations

... for family that stays connected over the miles

... for life lessons I still learn at 42

... for these and so much more, I am grateful.  

Care to join the gratitude community at Ann's and join in counting gifts to 1000 and more?

this mother's heart...

Having a child is 

deciding to forever 

watch your heart walk around

outside of your body.

~unknown~

Valentine's Day... the day of hearts, flowers, chocolate, and cupid.  The day decked out in pink, red, white with streamers and balloons.  A day set apart to celebrate love.  A day that will reap billions of dollars in consumer spending.

Yesterday I watched my heart be wheeled away by those in scrubs, hats and face masks.  I waited and I wondered.  I prayed and I pondered...  

Does he know how much I love him?

Did I say it enough?

Will they take good care of my boy?

Is he even my boy?

No... he's HIS...

Does He know I can hardly breathe?

Does He know how much I love him?

Do I trust enough?

This morning, I read this from a friend on facebook...

say it today

don't imply it

and I think... how often do I imply?  How many Valentine's Days have I gone out and spent $10 or $15 dollars to imply that I love the four I love the most?  How many times for anniversaries, birthdays, Christmas have I done the same thing?  

I KNOW my heart.  I KNOW I have done this.  When did implication take over communication? 

Today... this mother's heart looks different.  Perhaps it was because I realized that billions will be spent today.  Some will say I LOVE YOU... others will imply it with flowers, chocolate, hearts, valentines.  

...or maybe it was because yesterday my heart went missing for three hours and when I could finally see him, touch him, kiss him... I realized...  I haven't said it enough, because there is never enough.

Today... I want to say it in words and deeds.  I want to love on all four of them.  Tonight there will be a homemade meal... not fancy but tasty.  There will be no cards to open or gifts to unwrap... not because I think those things are wrong but because I have used them wrongly in the past.  

I don't want any implications this Valentine's Day.  I simply want to say it from my heart to theirs. 

when I have it backward...

Yesterday's JOY DARE... 

three hard eucharisteos

...why is this so hard for me?  

why do I easily say thank You for the hard things...

... the low checking account balance that leaves me trusting 

... the broken bone and that it is only one 

... the phone call to the surgeon, who was in California, because my man, the OR nurse, trusts him with our son

Why is it these things that I find to be the hard eucharisteo?  Why do I stumble saying thank You for these...

... the ones whose comments make my head spin

... the relatively easy conversations with the school this morning to get the mancub out of school for a few days

... my man's knowledge and expertise that this mother's heart fails to trust

I've wondered if I live life backward?  Why is the hard easier than the simple?  Why does my tongue stumble over thank You...

... for miscommunication that ends in abiding love

... for a mancub with heart full of adventure

... for the intent of the heart rather than the words of the mouth

The longer I live... the less I know.  Today, I seem to know very little... except that I live the hard eucharisteo backward.  

It's easy for me to say thank You for things I deem out of my control.  It's much harder to say thank You in an effort to control the attitude of my heart. 


join me in joining in the gratitude community at Ann's on this Multitude Monday?