Tales From a Stay-At-Home Mom: "I'm Watching You!"

I was in the bathroom with my two daughters, and we were "doing nails".  I finished my younger daughter's toes, and then went to pick up the bottle of hot pink nail polish that my older daughter had picked out for her fingers.  Of course, she hadn't told me that she had already unscrewed the cap, so when I picked it up by the lid, the bottle went crashing to the floor and hot pink nail polish went flying (and I mean flying) all over the linoleum tile and cabinets (I'm still thanking God it missed my new white rugs.  White?  Really?? What was I thinking??).  It was the end of a very long day, and that was the last straw.  I started to lose it.  At that moment, when every curse word known to man was running through my mind and I started scolding my daughter for unscrewing the cap, my two-year-old said, "I'M WATCHING YOU!".  She said it in a sing-song voice that was reminiscent of something you would see in a Stephen King movie, but I don't think that's what stopped me dead in my tracks:  It was the fact that, in that instant, I realized that she was watching ME.  She was watching MY reaction in that situation.  In fact, she was watching every one of my reactions in every situation throughout every day.  The weight of the thought certainly took the wind out of my sails.

I still have no idea why she said it, or what she even meant by the comment.  I half want to think it was the Holy Spirit warning me through her - because not only was she watching my every move, but so was God.  My reaction to the nail polish debacle was not a graceful one, as it should have been.  My immediate thought was not to extend mercy; it was to punish.  The nail polish was only another mess in the string of messes that I clean up on any given day, and nothing was stained permanently, so I really didn't have anything to be upset about.  Just the fact that I had to clean up another mess when I had a whole laundry list of other things to do to get everyone ready for bed was what upset me.  I could make excuses all day long to justify my reaction in this situation, (or any similar situation, for that matter,) but it doesn't change the fact that I was wrong.  I reacted incorrectly, and my daughter called me out on it.  My two-year-old knew my response was not what it should have been, because I take time to try and correct her behaviour when it is out of line.  Obviously, she was returning the favor!

As mothers, we don't only teach our children their ABC's, how to have good manners, and how to tie their shoes or clean up after themselves.  We teach them - by our own actions and reactions - how to act and react to stressful, upsetting, frustrating situations.  For example, if I yell and scold and punish every time someone makes a mess or breaks something, I'm going to send the message to my kids that that's the normal way to respond to a mess or a broken item.  In that case, I would also be sending the message that the floor or broken object is more important to me than the person who made the mess or caused the breakage in the first place.  I would be placing undue significance on objects rather than my precious children, and years of that kind of behavior could certainly have a negative impact on their fragile psyches.  Now, don't get me wrong, obviously there are times when scolding or punishment might absolutely be necessary, but nail polish on the floor when it wasn't even her fault in the first place?  Ah, no.  My linoleum tile and cabinets are not worth wounding my little girl's spirit.  Join with me this week after Mother's Day in making an effort to be aware of the words you are speaking to your kids each day and the tones you are using when you speak them.  Let us be women who speak life - who speak with wisdom and have faithful instruction on our tongues (Proverbs 31:26, paraphrased).

Tales From a Stay-At-Home Mom: Why So Defensive, Mommas??

I recently had a conversation with a Working Mom that made me throw back to my days of working full-time outside the home.  I remembered trying to juggle domestic responsibilities along with the guilt of having an infant (and then toddler) in day care.   I pumped in the bathroom at work for 6 months, since that was the only room with a lock on the door.  I often went well over the speed limit to pick my daughter up on time.  I let her fall asleep on the couch so I could spend more time with her.  I beat myself up every morning when I dropped her off and she cried woefully as I left, and then I stood outside the door, waiting for her to calm down before going to work.  (Most mornings, I teared up when I got to my car.)  I crunched numbers every week, created elaborate plans, tried to figure out ways to be able to quit work.  I also envied the Stay-At-Home Moms that I knew, and wondered why it couldn't be me.   I wasn't exactly defensive about my role as a Working Mom, since I felt compelled to stay home and couldn't, but anytime anyone made a comment that was even remotely negative about my child being in day care, I suddenly turned into a lion, claws drawn, ready to pounce.

Why was I so defensive?

I prayed for almost 3 years, and then the Lord opened all the right doors.  I couldn't understand His timing, but He obviously had (and has) a plan.   As a result, I've been the Stay-At-Home Mom that I envied ever since my youngest daughter was born.  Now, my guilt centers on whether or not I'm ruining my children, since I'm the ever-present influence in their lives!  That's a blog for another day, however.  Back to my recent conversation with Working Mom:  When faced with her own question of whether she should quit work to stay at home or not, she proceeded to become rather defensive of the fact that she enjoyed working and preferred to continue doing so. 

Why was she so defensive?

I spent many hours pondering these questions, only to recollect something that I once read (I don't remember where):  The defense mechanisms we use to protect ourselves usually provide clues to our own uncertainties or fears.  My walls went up and my claws came out when others made comments about my child being in a day care.  Why?  Because I was uncertain that that was an optimal place for her to be, and I actually feared that it was harming her in some way (even though there were absolutely no signs of that, other than the usual illnesses associated with being in a day care facility).  The Working Mom I was talking to became defensive of the fact that she enjoyed her work - perhaps because of guilt that may have been imposed on her by an individual or a media outlet in the past.  Or, perhaps she feared that her enjoyment of work outside the home was in direct conflict with her nurturing instincts, and somehow made her a "bad" mother.

We get defensive when faced with our fears and uncertainties; when we are challenged to believe what very well could be an untruth about ourselves or our lives.  These fears are not from God (who is love):  "There is no fear in love. But perfect love drives out fear, because fear has to do with punishment. The one who fears is not made perfect in love" (1 John 4:18).  What we need to remember is that we're all in this together!  It's not Working Mom versus Stay-At-Home Mom.  We're ALL moms that need to support one another in the choices we have made, and we need to help guide one another if it becomes obvious that we are choosing the wrong vocation, whatever that may be (at home or outside the home).  I am not better than you because I stay home with my kids.  You are not better than me because you work to help provide monetarily for yours.  God has different plans for each one of us, and we need to keep that in mind when our human natures drive us to place another mom under judgement for her vocation.

To continue in 1 John 4:19-21:  "We love because he first loved us.  Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen.   And he has given us this command: Anyone who loves God must also love their brother and sister."  Let us keep this in mind as we strive to encourage one another along the journeys that God has planned for us, whether working at home or outside of it!

Tales From A Stay-At-Home Mom: "Tell Me Your Sorrows..."

Whether you are a Stay-At-Home Mom, Working Mom or something in-between, you inevitably experience trials on a daily basis.  By "trials" I mean challenges, heartaches, hardships - and sometimes -sorrows.  (There are scores of mothers in Newtown, Connecticut that are experiencing untold, indescribable sorrows today following the horrendous elementary school shooting, as well as thousands across the country mourning with them.)  If you are a Christian, these trials are often magnified by Satan, the enemy of our souls, in an effort to get us to turn away from our faith in Christ.  They might be family trials (which are very prominent at this time of year), health trials, financial trials or spiritual trials.  You might not have anyone you trust to talk to about them, so you hide the pain inside, and the stress and bitterness that results might spew out of you and affect your relationships with your children or immediate family members.  Sister, you are not alone.  Not only are there thousands of other moms who feel the same way you do, but there is a person that is always walking with you, longing to hear you tell Him your story - including your sorrows.  His name is Jesus.  In The Chronicles of Narnia:  A Horse and His Boy, Jesus is portrayed as the Great Lion, Aslan.

I read Chapter Eleven of A Horse and His Boy during a particularly difficult time in my life a few years ago, and God, very literally, spoke to me through it.  Several days ago, the Lord brought the passage to my mind as I was throwing a pity party for myself regarding various trials I am currently encountering.  As I re-read the chapter, I remembered those comforting - yet stern - words He spoke to me through C.S. Lewis, and knew that I needed to share them with you as well. 

Let me give you some background on the passage:  Shasta, a young boy, is the main character.  He is riding his horse through a dark night - so dark that he could see nothing around him.  He has just recounted all of the horrible things that had happened to him over the past few months, and as a result, he is reduced to tears as he goes along through the blackness, all alone atop his horse.  After a while, he realizes that something very large is walking beside him, breathing quietly.  It is Aslan.

    " 'Who are you'?  he said, scarcely above a whisper. 
    'One who has waited long for you to speak,' said the Large Voice.  Its voice was not loud, but very large and deep.
    'Are you - are you a giant?' asked Shasta.
   'You might call me a giant,' said the Large Voice.  'But I am not like the creatures you call giants.'
    'I can't see you at all,' said Shasta, after staring very hard.  Then (for an even more terrible idea had come into his head) he said, almost in a scream, 'You're not - not something dead, are you?  Oh, please - please do go away.  What harm have I ever done you?  Oh, I am the unluckiest person in the whole world!'
    Once more he felt the warm breath of The Thing on his hand and face.
'There,' it said, 'that is not the breath of a ghost.  Tell me your sorrows.'
    Shasta was a little reassured by the breath: so he told how he had never known his real father or mother and had been brought up sternly by the fisherman.  And then he told the story of his escape and how they were chased by lions and forced to swim for their lives; and of all their dangers in Tashbaan [a city] and about his night among the tombs and how the beasts howled at him out of the desert.  And he told about the heat and thirst of their desert journey and how they were almost at their goal when another lion chased them and wounded Aravis [Shasta's friend].  And also, how very long it was since he had had anything to eat.
    'I do not call you unfortunate,' said the Large Voice.
    'Don't you think it was bad luck to meet so many lions?' said Shasta.
    'There was only one lion,' said the Voice
    'What on earth do you mean?  I've just told you there were at least two the first night, and -'
    'There was only one:  but he was swift of foot.'
    'How do you know?'
    'I was the lion.'  And as Shasta gaped with open mouth and said nothing, the Voice continued. 'I was the lion who forced you to join with Aravis.  I was the cat who comforted you among the houses of the dead.  I was the lion who drove the jackals from you while you slept.  I was the lion who gave the Horses the new strength of fear for the last mile so that you should reach King Lune in time.  And I was the lion you do not remember who pushed the boat in which you lay, a child near death, so that it came to shore where a man sat, wakeful at midnight, to receive you.'
    'Then it was you who wounded Aravis?'
    'It was I.'
    'But what for?'
    'Child,' said the Voice, 'I am telling you your story, not hers.  I tell no one any story but his own.'
    'Who are you?' asked Shasta.
    'Myself,' said the voice, very deep and low so that the earth shook:  and again, 'Myself,' loud and clear and gay: and then the third time 'Myself,' whispered so softly you could hardly hear it, and yet it seemed to come from all around you as if the leaves rustled with it."

Every time I read this passage, I hear the Lord saying quietly, Daughter, tell me your sorrows.  When I know He's there and He cares about me and what is happening in my life, I then feel confident in pouring my heart out to him - negativity, bitterness, whining and all.  He then says, I do not call you unfortunate.  I orchestrated every bit of it - not only that, but I was walking with you every step of the way - even when the darkness was so thick around you that you could barely see your own hand in front of your face. What you thought was happening to your detriment, I was working out for your good.  When you knew you were in danger, I was protecting you from even worse things than those.  When you were hurting and alone, I sent someone to comfort you. I provide strength; I point you in the direction you should go - and yes, sometimes, I must wound you or someone you love.  You might never understand why, but I do.  Who am I?  I AM THAT I AM.  Your Father, Savior, Healer - the One Who Sees.  The Just and Merciful and Mighty God.  I AM LOVE.  And I love you with an everlasting love, even when your circumstances tell you I don't.

Dear Sister, you are never truly alone if God is your Father and Christ is your Savior.  God never lets a single one of your tears fall to the ground unnoticed.  He knew you before you were born; He knows how many hairs are on your head; He knows your heart and He offers to carry your burdens and sorrows.  I encourage you to hand them over today - set your heart free so that He can fill it with His love and comfort.

"Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance.  Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything." - James 1:2-4 (NIV)

Tales From a Stay-At-Home Mom: Not LOST - Just Frustrated.

You know you have a major problem when you're still mad about the season finale of a show that ended almost two years ago.  That's me with LOST - it was my all-time favorite TV series - until the final episode, that is.  I spent a very, very long time watching this well-written, well-casted show, only to find out that the whole, beautifully confusing mess was not in fact a well-crafted tale with a creative and Earth-shattering ending, but a "dream" of sorts in which the characters had to try to work their way out of a purgatory-type place.  They were DEAD the whole time, and because of that one fact, the entire story line no longer mattered.  It wasn't REAL; nothing that happened mattered; the writers sold out in favor of viewer satisfaction.  They did what they deemed necessary to tie up loose ends and resolve conflicts for loyal viewers, but what ended up happening was that they tried a little too hard, losing the very essence of the show in the process (characters and viewers alike were LOST the whole time - until the last episode, that is).  Perhaps some were satisfied -but not me.  I would have been much happier to have seen a real ending that didn't negate the entire lives of the characters; I would have welcomed some frustration and only half the answers; I would have preferred to hold onto the mystery and all that the characters worked for, and still be LOST in the end.

Unfortunately, I can relate my LOST frustrations to life as a Christian.  Some days, (well, most days,) I just want answers, whatever the cost.  Why won't my daughter just sleep?  Why won't my other daughter just listen?  Why did he say those things to me?  How did such-and-such happen?  Why are you letting such-and-such happen?  Since I can't see my whole story and God can, I sometimes wonder why He doesn't just give me a spoiler, a trailer - something that will help me get through tough times.  Instead, He asks me to trust Him to write a better story than the writers of LOST.  My life DOES matter - in fact, God sent His Son to die for me so that I might have life - life in abundance.  If I know from this TV show experience that I would prefer mystery and half the answers (or none at all) as opposed to a bunch of forced answers that attempt to "satisfy" me unsuccessfully, then you would think that I'd be content with remaining in the dark about the story of my own life.  Of course, that's not the case.

Fleshly desires constantly war against spiritual wisdom.  I know that God would never be able to build our characters if we didn't walk through the journey of our lives blindly, in a sense, trusting Him to be our guide; leaning on Him for direction instead of trying to do it on our own; keeping our eyes on the promise of Heaven.  I'm also well aware of the fact that He has given us quite a few answers in His Word.  As for me individually, God will tell me the story I've been longing to hear when I see Him face to face.  The whole story - frustrations, mysteries, joys, disappointments and all - the answers to the whys and hows I ask every day.  However, when I think about standing there before my holy, majestic God, I don't think I will want or need any answers at all.

Tales From a Stay-At-Home Mom: "You Can't Always Get What You Want..."

"But if you try sometimes, you just might find, you get what you need..."  There's actually some wisdom in that old Rolling Stones song.  Obviously, we are better off sometimes with what we need rather than with what we want, but that doesn't mean we're not very disillusioned in the process (which is a repeated theme in the song).  Ending up with what you need instead of what you want doesn't exactly make a person happy.  In fact, it's frustrating - and in some instances - infuriating.  That's why this is one of my favorite lines in the song: "And I went down to the demonstration/to get my fair share of abuse/Singing 'We're gonna vent our frustration/if we don't we're gonna blow a 50-amp fuse'".  I can relate.  When I don't get what I want, I want to vent my frustration or blow some body's ears out trying.  The problem I encounter at that point is that it's God's ears that I'm usually trying to blow out, and that never ends well for me.


God has never answered any of my "why" questions.  Ever.  Probably for good reason (not that the Creator of the Universe ever needs a reason).  That doesn't make it any easier for me to swallow, however, because when I don't get what I want, my first round of ear-splitting whining usually begins with "WHY NOT?  Why me?  Why does SHE get such and such and I don't?"  The voice in my head that God hears must sound worse than my four-year-old sounds to me on her most whiny of days.  So not only am I acting ungrateful at that point, but I quickly reveal my covetousness and the horrid sense of entitlement that I harbor in my heart.  Who in the world do I think I am to act that way?  To say those things to a loving God who sent His Son to suffer and die for MY sins?  Nine times out of ten, I don't stop there, though, even when I know I'm in deep and see humbling repentance on the horizon.  Just like a rebellious child, I plant my feet, cross my arms and turn my face away from the only one who can make my frustration dissipate.  "I do not understand what I do.  For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do....I know that nothing good lives in me, that is, in my sinful nature.  For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out...What a wretched [wo]man I am!  Who will rescue me from this body of death?  Thanks be to God - through Jesus Christ our Lord!" (Romans 7:15, 18, 24-25).

It's hard to repeatedly ask God for something and repeatedly see the opposite of that prayer occur.  If we could see the future, we'd all probably whine a lot less when we receive what we need as opposed to what our hearts desire.  The most difficult thing for me to get over is the sense of hurt that I feel when I "think" I'm asking for bread but getting stones instead.  The conclusion that I have to arrive at is that God knows my motives for asking what I ask, and my motives are most likely not as innocent as I would like to believe they are.  I am a sinful being with sinful desires that I often justify as needs.  So my motives might be one reason that I can't always get what I want.  Another reason is that God sees the tapestry of my life in finished form, while I only see the ragged ends of the yarn poking out the back in crazy patterns that don't make sense to me.  God always, always knows what is best, no matter what it looks like from my lowly, human perspective.  Remembering these things always brings the shepherd King, David, to mind, who certainly did not always get what he wanted. His words echo in my heart: "O LORD, you have searched me and you know me.  You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar.  You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways.  Before a word is on my tongue, you know it completely, O LORD...All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be...Search me, O God, and know my heart; test me and know my anxious thoughts.  See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting."  (Psalm 139:1-4, 16, 23-24).

The Broken Branch

Walking through an apple orchard in the fall is a singular experience - not at all the same as traipsing through a grape vineyard or English garden (although those have their own individual beauty).  The air is crisp and quiet; the leaves crunch under foot; the apples stud the trees like juicy rubies - you want to pick them, yet at the same time, you also want to stand beneath and stare at their majesty for a while.  A sense of abundance and life pervades an orchard.

Several years ago, after a particularly difficult time in my life, all of these thoughts were crossing my mind as I made my way through a family apple orchard.  The orchard hadn't been well taken care of that year, so I was trudging through knee-high grass, picking rather haphazardly.   I happened to look up to see that a very large branch of one of the apple trees had been broken - either by lightening or wind.  Surprisingly, the end of the broken branch was still flowering and actually had good-sized apples on it.  In that moment, God said to my heart, "See, I can bear fruit even in brokenness."