HOME

Dear Micah,

I know this to be true, since I once was ten just like you.  A mama-poem for the tenth year of your life and the tenth year I’ve been a parent.

You’ll Never Be Ten Again

It’s double digits time
and soon you’ll be 12, 15, and 49.
But now you’ve got this whole next year,
grab your dreams and bring them near.

Act a play with “thee’s” and “thou’s”,
Do it well and take some bows.
Don’t stop short now, let it out
write it, draw it, give a shout.

Curl your hair and pin it high,
Call a friend, you’re never shy.
Laughing, dancing, smiling wide,
A heart that’s just too big to hide.

Take each day to know the Lord,
remain in Him, you won’t be bored.
Find some quiet, read the Word,
know it, speak it, make it heard.

Well, what are you waiting for?
Run right out that door!
Didn’t I tell you, don’t you know?
364 days left to go!

The fallout from my trip is easing but not without some harsh words and a little confusion from everyone.  Finally my muscle and heart memory have kicked in and I’m remembering that I know how to do this daily Mama life.

But the place in my heart that cracked open is still tender and I’ve been pushing at it, pondering, examining, trying to reconcile it to it’s previous state.

As I mused over Misha’s words last night, my heart finally recognized itself and what I had found in the mountains.  She writes, “It made me think about what is hidden when there isn’t enough room to be all we have in us to be.”  In her recent writings she talks of making space and space is what I had for the first time in a long time.  Wide open space that wasn’t filled before I even met the day.

As I’ve fumbled and faltered to explain some of my feelings this week to Mr. Darcy, a few friends or even to you, readers, it’s been weighted with guilt.  Will I sound like a Mama who doesn’t love her family enough?

“She’s discontent,” I hear you saying to yourself, “She just needs to accept the closely drawn lines of her current life and wait to awaken the rest of her heart until someday in the future.”

I’ve read enough books that have told me just that.  So is this new recognition, that my heart has chambers in need of more oxygen, wrong, or can it add to the life I already have?

Before my trip I had taken to apologizing to my children regularly for requiring space, afraid of hurting their feelings. They are with me all day long and I still seem to leave their mama-shaped holes still  hungry.

In the compact arena of my day to day mama life how do I find some semblance of that found space in order to be more fully woman, writer, wife, friend, and daughter of an Amazing God.

“A mama is a mama to the core, it’s bone, bone deep. But a mama is also a woman first.”
Misha Leigh

Here are a few arguments I’ve been throwing at myself, building a case to plan some regular breathing room (even if it’s not mountain sized every time).

One: Maybe as I spread out occassionally it will at the same time make room for their own journeys, maybe they’ll find they want to jump higher, sing louder.

Two: Maybe stretching my ams out into the quiet will help me see how to meet their needs more specifically and uniquely instead of just allowing my body and my service to be available.

The BIG question: Can this mama truly take deeper breaths without a call for panic from her loved ones? “She’s going to leave us!”

I’m going to leave you a little, to come back to you with more of me.

“When I stand before God at the end of my life I would hope that I would not have a single bit of talent left and I could say, ‘I used everything you gave me’. ”  Erma Bombeck

I’ve come back from the clouds and my first four days in ten years to eat, sleep, and wake at my whim(without someone asking to eat just because she heard a sound in the kitchen or wake me because he needed breakfast) and walk at my own pace through beauty(without anyone telling me they were ready to go home).

It seems I came back with a reminder of some parts of myself I’m quiet attached to, but with my mom heart rather depleted.

It should be the opposite right?  What a gift, four days in that sweet spot.

Trouble is, before I went I didn’t even know I needed it.  I was just walking forward, each day with it’s joys and trials.

The kicker is that now I’m back, that brief experience opened my eyes wide to every need I meet every moment of every day, six fold.  In the same way Adam and Eve didn’t know they were naked until they snacked on the apple, I had long forgotten there was any other way to conduct a day of life.  Now each need(both spoken and of the heart) of my children sounds like it’s arriving over a large microphone with background noise and an echo effect.

Will something so sweet now turn this mom heart sour?  Will I regret I ever went because it was better not to know?

I’m praying for truth because a pack of lies is creeping into my heart.

Here’s one good reason to keep reaching for the truth:

(As a side note, one of the places I receive encouragement in the dogs days of parenting is the work of Sally Clarkson.
She has several Mom Heart Conferences coming up, and she’s even offering a giveaway for free registrations.  I’ve got my eye on one of her conferences as my next sweet spot retreat, my thinking is that if I increase the  little trips away past once a decade there might not be so much fallout in the aftermath.  Check it out.)

I’ve just left a significant part of myself in another city while I enter the clouds.  I’m severed and  I wonder what will happen next.

Will I grow thinner, like the air in the mountains where I’m headed?  Blown about at the whim of the wind and set off balance? Will I expand to fill the space, find old parts unleashed and new limbs for the journey?

Maybe I’ll come back with more of me.

If you give a girl a life-altering problem, she might decide it’s the perfect time to redecorate her bedroom.

If she redecorates her bedroom, she might find a copy of Harry Potter: The Deathly Hallows, Book 7 under the bed.

If she finds Harry Potter: The Deathly Hallows, Book 7, she might decide she absolutely must reread the entire series.

After she rereads the entire series in 4 days, she might wander back into her partially re-organized bedroom.

When that project overwhelms her, she’ll probably search for hours through Netflix Instant Play instead.

As she scrolls through the choices, she might find an entire tv series about Extreme Bass Fishing to watch for the next week.

If she watches five episodes a night, she’ll probably need to purchase an enduring stash of chocolate.

When the chocolate and Netflix run out, she might remember she has a problem to face.

When she remembers the problem, she might also remember the kitchen could use a new paint color.

Halfway through painting the kitchen eggplant purple, she might realize the problem isn’t going away.

(Why do I always think that organizing everything outside of my heart will bring peace and order to the chaos and hurt that dwells on the inside?)