Tag Archive for: love

You’re a Good Mom If…

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For years I have heard mothers labeled as “good moms” and “bad moms”. As a middle class white Christian woman, most of the people I know are labeled by society as “good moms” (which is a whole other issue of discussion). However after working years in foster care, I have also gotten to know the ones that many call “bad moms”. And oh it breaks my heart. It breaks my heart that there’s this division between who is a good mom and who is not. A “good mom” is really one step away from a “bad mom” if we take away her resources. Could any of us really do it if we had a colicky baby in a one room apartment with no partner or family to support us, barely any money for food, and an addiction that has gripped us for years? And yet some of us have all the resources and struggle still.

Motherhood is NOT easy.

I want to scratch “good mom” and “bad mom” from our vocabularies. Because it produces shame, plants guilt, fosters hopelessness. I think many of us wonder if we are truly a good mom, regardless of how the world labels us. We wonder if we’re giving our little one everything they need, supporting their development, creating a healthy bond. But there are so many colors and shades of those colors when it comes to motherhood. We all do it differently. And that is more than okay-it is a gift.

You’re a good mom if you breastfeed or bottle feed, or whether you get milk from a donor whose producing like a farm cow. You’re a good mom if you vaccinate or don’t vaccinate-because both can be scary and the choices can feel hard. You’re a good mom if your baby sleeps on you all day or if they have a beautifully designed sleep schedule. You’re a good mom if your hair looks nice every day or if it’s in a greasy messy bun. You’re a good mom if your house is a mess or if it’s clean and organized. You’re a good mom if you lost all that baby weight upfront or if it’s hanging on for dear life. You’re a good mom if you struggle with a mental illness or if your seratonin functions like a champ. You’re a good mom if your kids have never had a Dorito or if it’s Dino nuggets for dinner every night. You’re a good mom if your little people get baths every night or once a week (if you’re lucky). You’re a good mom if your kids go to private school, public school, or are homeschooled. You’re a good mom if you’ve lived in the same house they’re whole lives or moved around a bunch. You’re a good mom if you back delicious treats for your kids or if you use your oven as storage. You’re a good mom if you’re up in the morning with a pep in you’re step or if you need 75 cups of coffee not to yell everything that comes out if your mouth. You’re a good mom on the days you have patience and the days you do not. You’re a good mom if your kid ends up in rehab, or if they struggle through a mental illness, or if they defy everything you’ve ever taught them. You’re a good mom if you love your kids and are doing your best-whatever that looks like for you. And sometimes that means dumping the kids on someone else for a few hours and crying under the comforter. Sometimes it means taking 3 buses to get to a one hour visit with your kids, trying not to cry as you wonder how you lost them. Sometimes our best is barely breathing. And sometimes we’ve got to pull up our bootstraps and do the things anyway. But we’re all different. Motherhood looks different for all of us. And at the end of the day all of our kids will need therapy anyway.

Resting In The Arms That Won’t Let Go.

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I opened my computer today to finish an article for Deliberate Magazine, and I couldn’t. I sat for an hour with my fingers on the keys, willing myself to remember how to string words together, yet I couldn’t remember how.

That’s always how I know that my heart needs to write about something else.

My heart is heavy today.

I have always been pretty good at tricking myself into thinking that I am in control of my life.

And then every once and a while, life hits me like a ton of bricks and I realize, once again, that I am not.

The heaviness that reminds me I am not in control, has become so beautiful to me.

I know it sounds odd. Heaviness is painful, not beautiful. But for me, the heaviness leaves me no choice, but to surrender. I cannot hold it on my own, and so I no longer am able to pretend that I am in control. I can exhale into the truth that I cannot do it on my own.

I prefer it this way really.

I don’t want to run through life on adrenaline, caffeine, and pride. I want to sink into the arms of my Savior. I want to release all that life hands me to Him.

So as I sit here, saddened by the pain of a suffering loved one. I am clinging to Jesus in a way that I have not for many months. And I am so thankful for the heaviness that reminds me of His presence, His goodness, His love for me.

Maybe one of these days, It won’t take so much heaviness for me to rest in the arms of my Savior. But regardless, I know He won’t let go.

 

 

 

Saying No To The Typical New Years Resolutions.

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I love the new year as much as the next gal.

I love the mentality of a fresh start, setting goals, moving forward.

But I always seem to put a lot of pressure on my new year’s self. Like it’s the job of new year me to pick up the slack on the last year. Okay self, you kind of sucked this past year, so in this new year you need to do all of this stuff, ok? 

Oh my gosh it makes me tired just thinking about all that pressure.

Every year, listing the things I need to do better, do differently. It’s not very encouraging. In fact, I often feel burnt out before I’ve even begun. My expectations set so high, come crumbling down at the first ounce of failure. And then comes the shame. Well, Lizz, you’ve done it again. Another year of failure, missing the mark.

I won’t do it another year.

So this year I wonder how different it would be if maybe we partnered with ourselves a little bit more. Gave ourselves a little bit of a loving pep-talk instead of a strict diet, or an out-of-our-control achievement, or expecting things from ourselves that we are not ready to give.

I am going into the new year with baby steps, not leaps and bounds.

I am going to partner with myself on this life journey instead of expecting myself to move mountains just because the date changes.

Our resolutions don’t have to be a list of things screaming “You’re going to do better this year!”. 

Instead they can be gentle encouragements to ourselves. Set structure, sure. Join the gym, get a new water bottle, carve out an hour every day to work out. But give yourself a few set days off as well.

My old resolution voice might be saying to me this year, “seriously, you have to publish a book! Get a better job. You need to be doing devotions more. You definitely have to be in more plays. Run another half marathon. Blog every day, no matter what, no breaks EVER. Do better! Be better! Love better! Create more! It’s not enough, it’s never enough, Lizz. YOU MUST BE BETTER!

 Oh Good Lord, no more!

This year my new year’s resolution is to pursue my own physical, emotional, and spiritual health by listening closely to my own needs. I will chase after my love of creating no matter where that takes me, letting go of lofty expectations, and stepping into the fear. I will continue to love, learn, and humble myself in all of my relationships. I will give myself grace, and speak kindly into my fears and moments that feel like failures. I will take it all moment by moment. I will work toward trusting myself to know what’s best, remembering that the Holy Spirit is with me and flows through me. Above all else, I will love myself and give myself grace for all of life’s hard moments.

Happiest of New Year’s to all of you, my faithful readers and friends. It is a privilege to share life with you. I pray that as we move into what next year has for us,  we will all be so very gentle with ourselves.

 

 

The Gift Of Giving.

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if you’re anything like me you experience those twinges of guilt around the holiday season. We know that there are people all around us in need, and we’re stressed about getting all the cookies baked in time, and finding the perfect presents for everyone on our list. My mantra for this season is “moderation, moderation, moderation. Everything in moderation”.

Actually, that’s my mantra for all of life. I am an extreme thinker, and so I often get stuck in the all or nothing mentality. But moderation is key to so many things in life, and Christmas is no different. We don’t need to drive ourselves crazy trying to figure out how to do Christmas right. How many gifts we should buy, how many gifts we can receive without feeling guilty we have too much, how many cookies to eat a day, whether we’ve given enough to the needy this year. There is no quota to reach.

Take a deep breath.

I want to tell you a story of the greatest gift that I ever received.

I was a little girl, maybe 7 or 8 years old, when I saw a pair of clogs in the Stride Right store at the mall. We were there buying sneakers for my brother, and I put those clogs on and walked around and around the store wearing them. They were a mini version of a pair of wool clogs my mom used to wear all the time, so that might have been part of my draw to them. But whatever it was I had to have them.

I left the store that day in a cloud of disappointment. I so badly wanted those clogs, but Christmas had passed, and my birthday was not for another few months. They would be gone by that time. And so life went on, and I forgot about the clogs for a while.

The morning of my birthday came. I ripped open every package with excitement and joy, littering the floor with paper. And then in came my brother, a package in his hands. He handed it to me gently and as I lifted the lid, there were the clogs from so many months ago! The ones I had hoped for and waited for. And even though I was still young, I knew how much my brother had sacrificed for those clogs, the allowances he saved, the things he didn’t buy for himself.

I will never forget the kind of love that sacrifices to buy a pair of clogs for his little sister. Never in a million years.

While Christmas can sometimes be an overwhelming time of money spent and pointless gifts, we can reclaim it. Gift giving doesn’t have to be guilt-driven, or last minute, or even expensive. It has the potential to be such an act of love, and a blessing to those around us.

So don’t get caught up in that twinge of guilt over what Christmas is becoming or how you’re not doing it as well as you could be. But reclaim it in little ways. Give modest gifts to the ones you love, ask for a little bit less for yourself this year (I’m working on it..), give generously of your time and money to those in need.

And in case you were wondering about an opportunity to give to those in need this very moment, I have something for you. Firstly read this post by Glennon Doyle Melton and as you scroll down, through your tears, you will see a link to The Compassion Collective. This is a movement to save the lives of people just like us, who are refugees right now. This is a call to action, a chance to love deeply and bravely. You will be surprised by what your gift could provide a family right now.