May
12
2012Joining up with Julia again to tell you about one thing that is really helping me with my Mama-ing (and my walk with Jesus). Ironically, it’s a concept that Julia mentioned to me that the girls in my small group have participated in twice now. First, a trailer.
Ahem… well this isn’t exactly how Fight Club goes. But it sure is hysterical 🙂
Fight Club for us is a time where we seriously confront sin and point our hearts to the gospel. Usually one person is the focus, but it’s not unusual for more than one person to leave convicted and repentant of sin.
The Rules of Fight Club
- What happens at Fight Club stays at fight club. (confidentially is protection for us to humbly and openly share our hearts!)
- Everyone is here after the each other’s hearts: if it’s your turn to share then please share your heart and sin in all it’s messy glory.
- We can only ask questions- no stories or advice unless it’s specifically asked for
- Other than questions we can only speak the gospel- to encourage and admonish
- If we’re meeting on a certain subject or for a certain person’s concern, then we can each give a short 1-2 minute testimony (Here’s where I was, here’s where God gripped my heart and showed me my sin, here’s where He’s brought me now).
So why do we call it fight club? Because if you don’t leave Fight Club wanting to punch someone in the face over them pointing out your sin… well, then it either wasn’t your turn in the hot seat or you weren’t truly being humble.
It’s messy. It’s gory. It’s loving. It turns us around. Fight Club is like dumping someone in a washing machine and holding them under until God reveals where He’s working to make that stain clean. I love Fight Club and I love how God’s using it to change the ladies in my small group.
(And I totally still want to punch K in the face over saying that it’s not my job to point out D’s sin. Thanks… I needed that :-p)
May
10
2012Sometimes I’m totally missing the whole point of this toddler activity of the week thing: to slow down and spend quality time with the girls so we make memories.
Last week, (with a fair bit of accountability from a friend) I did just that. I just spent close to 30 minutes (or more than some days) solely focused on the girls (and Sedryn too!).
We cuddled watching a movie. We snuggled together in my bed and read books that I’m totally sick of reading for almost an hour. We found a toad while watering the garden and buried a bowl of water for it to drink from. I was chased by lawn mowers and screaming girls. We hid under a sheet tent from the clothesline and played “Going on a bear hunt” and “Peek a boo.” I built towers taller than me and let them fall on the girls.
We just played.
And it was beautiful.
May
08
2012I am a strong-willed kid.
Independent.
Stiff-necked.
Obstinate, even.
I have been tiresome.
I probably still am tiresome.
I go my own way and you watch silent: tear-stricken. Like that first day of kindergarten.
Back then, perhaps, I didn’t understand your grief. I was doing things myself. I was doing them well. Perhaps I was overzealous in seeking praise. I thought it should please you to see me grow.
Oh, but now I have children of my own. And that same driven fierce independence that I used on you, I use on them. I teach Sedryn to roll both ways because I weary of flipping him back over. I teach Bronwyn, patiently and repeatedly, to come when I call. I teach Aeralind to keep her self-control, to ask without whining, and to accept no’s with grace. And soon they learn.
I understand now your grief (if only a little since we are made of different stuff). How one moment I am needed to solve things, needed to teach, needed to sooth and the next moment they’ve nailed it and moved on. And, while I’m so encouraged to see them master things, well, it’s one less thing I get the privilege of teaching them.
And if I look briefly they’ve grown up and left my lessons.
Oh, but if I sit and study them, they’re like lizards. Their spirits all scaled-over like a dragons. Multifaceted. Some scales theirs alone: their personality, their gifts, their natural-bent. Other scales this messy conglomerate of things I’ve done and failed to do mixed with all those things above. Yet, still there are scales that come straight from my lessons. From things that I have done (by the grace of God). Like the one on Bronwyn that lights up with I talk about reigning in a horse. Or the one on Sedryn that glows when I kiss one cheek and he waits, mouth open in anticipation, for the other cheek smooch. Or the one on Aeralind that gleams when she puts one her shoes. Or the one on me that drops the car seat and her diaper bag to reach down and snuggle a hurt child (because we both know that’s not my natural-bent).
Mom, you’ve shaped me. A scale here and there. The ones around my heart. The ones on my obstinate head. Thank you.
I’m sorry for not saying so sooner.
I’m independent, stiff-necked, and obstinate, you know? It takes a bit to process things and even more to find the words and time to say them right.
Love you.
May
07
2012He peers around his Momma’s shoulder and whispers shyly: “There’s a baby in Mommy’s tummy!”
It’s mere seconds before I crush all three of them in a hug. I’m overjoyed.
I can’t believe the miracle that God is growing in the quiet places inside this dear friend.
And best of all, this is the second announcement I’ve enjoyed this week.
Two new lives welling up. Two immeasurable blessings.
I don’t know about you, but I struggle with my own blessings.
Let’s be honest: Only one of our children was planned (whichever child kicked the other twin out of her egg).
Each day I sin against them. They sin against me. They sin against each other.
At 4:30 that same day, we all wrestle over a dumb doll stroller. My first reaction is to sell the stroller on Craigslist; Can’t they see I’m busy making dinner for them, busy serving them, and, by golly, can’t they just let me have a moment to get this done?!
I’m lucky this time. The sin stays in the heart. The tongue is quiet. Because of that Mommy with a baby in her tummy and how she walks with me. Because of that book
I sit down and debrief them. “Did you break fellowship with your sister over a stroller?” “Is your sister more important than the stroller?” “How do you think we should play with the stroller together?”
I wonder: Am I teaching them this life lesson on relationships and negotiations or are they teaching me? Is dinner more important or is our relationship more important?
These blessings, they’re not here to make us happy. No, they’re here to grow us into stronger joy. And joy, it’s wrought through suffering, through growing pains, through labor.
New little blessings, I can’t wait to meet you. I can’t wait to see how God uses you to grow your mommas.
# 3261-3277 of the little blessings He gives each week
- How Derek went looking for a grey onesie on his lunch break for my photo series
- How Bronwyn walks around in 1 dress up heel and one Mary Jane and no panties in her swim top
- How Bronwyn hung out with the older boys as if she belonged with them
- How Aerie and Sullivan played with playdough and cleaned it all up
- Really getting to know Chelsea
- Bronwyn standing in the yard hosing off all the big kids
- laughing over the futility of cleaning up toys
- The toad in the garden
- How somehow the girls managed to tell Sullivan about the toad and the cat! The girls really can tell stories and communicate with others!
- No poop accidents today
- My girls convincing Adyson to romp in the backyard naked with hem (and even to use the potty later for a marshmallow)
- Laughing with Joni
- Heart chat with Mandy in the parking lot
- Tossing the girls in the swimming pool
- Hanging out with SG during our outside worship service
- Hearing those shy little words announcing a secret
- Talking hearts with Julia
- Growth
