There was something so beautiful in the confused look on our daughters faces when Chris said that. They just didn’t get it, it didn’t make any sense to them. Our girls are born in the era of the Obamas. When they see him they shout – “He’s butterscotch, just like us!” and to them its perfectly normal that they’d see themselves in the White House. When they see Michelle Obama, they say “Mom, she’s just like you!” and its no big deal to them that a woman of color, with ebony hue, would grace the global stage.

They don’t know it hasn’t always been this way. They don’t know they names I was called, even at their age or those that my bi-racial friends were called, or that in other times and places that my white friends were called. They don’t know the story of their dad and me. They don’t know the names we were called , the things that were said, from sheer hatred, through to the sheer ignorance. And it saddens me that one day they’ll come to me with angry tear stained faces , and I’ll know that from personal experience, they’ll know.

But not today. Today we went to the beach and walked along carefree and happy in a family where love knows all colors and celebrates them, and I willed the sun not to set on their innocence for another day.

So its with renewed gratitude I reflect upon the lives of those who lived, fought, died, so our families could peacefully walk hand in hand. And I’m thinking and praying of how the walls of separation can continue to come down, especially in the church – the most segregated place in this wonderful country that’s now our home. Tragic isn’t it? It saddens and frustrates me. We’ve got to keep growing in this. Somehow we’ve got to embrace what the reconciliation offered on the cross, means for true healing and  harmony across different races . As salt and light… surely we’re to be the example, the model for what this could be? I wonder…

Anyway, in the meantime we  have our lives now. So I’m considering how our family can best celebrate Martin Luther King Day. Because this day is truly ours; it celebrates the colors of us.

For example, the day I told my fellow teachers I was expecting my first. One of my colleagues piped up, “I knew you had gained weight.” For the record I had actually lost weight at first, and then only gained 1 lb my first trimester…thank you.

It is almost as if pregnant women have the capacity to eliminate all tact and common sense to all passersby. Like one quick glance at the belly zaps it out in an instance.

When I was 5 months pregnant and just beginning to fit into maternity clothes another unbelievable comment was made. I was standing in line at my father’s visitation…yes it happened here. A man coming through the line hugged me, gave his condolences, then proceeded to look at my baby bump and say, “Any day now, huh?” What?!?!

Well I was in too shocked and exhausted to respond with something I’d have regretted. My husband assured me that I did not look 9 months pregnant.

So if you’ve experienced similar situations, I feel your pain. They are just one of the many memories you will hang on to, and hopefully laugh about, for years to come.

God recently spoke to my feelings of being on the sidelines when I was reading the latest Heidi Baker book, Compelled by Love.  In the chapter I was reading Heidi was talking about being spiritually poor and she quoted from 2 Corinthians 6 (from the New American Standard Bible):

“…giving no cause for offense in anything, so that the ministry will not be discredited, but in everything commending ourselves as servants of God, in much endurance, in afflictions, in hardships, in distresses, in beatings, in imprisonments, in tumults, in labours, in sleeplessness, in hunger, in purity, in knowledge, in patience, in kindness, in the Holy Spirit, in genuine love, in the word of truth, in the power of God; by the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and the left, by glory and dishonour, by evil report and good report; regarded as deceivers and yet true; as unknown yet well-known, as dying yet behold, we live; as punished yet not put to death, as sorrowful yet always rejoicing, as poor yet making many rich, as having nothing yet possessing all things.”

As I read the passage, some of the words jumped out at me in a new way. Instead of thinking this passage is for those people ‘out there’ doing hard-core mission, for the first time as a mum I felt like I was included in what Paul is talking about.

Though I am not on the frontline of ministry as Paul was, I too go through ‘much endurance’ as I look after my two children at home day-in and day-out, and I too feel ‘imprisoned’ when I am not free to leave the house as and when I want to because I can’t leave the children, and I too know ‘labours’ every day as I walk up and down the stairs a hundred times a day meeting the constant demands of little children, and I too know ‘sleeplessness’ with my youngest who doesn’t eat well in the
day makes up for it in the night with night feeds…and the list goes on.

God was telling me that He sees my efforts at home as valid in the Kingdom. God made this passage speak directly to my life. He saw my hidden thoughts and spoke to encourage me. As mums stuck at home, our job of raising our children is important to God. As well as telling me that my sacrifices as a mother were noticed by God and were a valid part of the work of the Kingdom, I felt there was a second part to the message – just as Paul needed the power of God to carry out his work, so
the power of God is available to us to empower us to carry out our work too.

Yes, I can relate to ‘much endurance, distresses, labours, sleeplessness, hunger,’ etc, but it’s good to know that because the first part of the passage resonates with me, the rest of the passage is for me too. In faith I can carry out my mission to raise my children ‘in purity, in knowledge, in patience, in kindness, in the Holy Spirit, in genuine love, in the word of truth, in the power of God; by the weapons of righteousness for the right hand and the left’.

How wonderful it is to know that just like Paul, I too can call on the power of God to fulfil the demands of my day with the children! When I am at my wits end, exhausted and frustrated, with feelings of failure, instead of admitting defeat and giving in to my impatience or anger, I now know I have as much right as Paul to call on divine help to persevere.

If you can relate to what I’m talking about then may God speak to you as He did to me – ‘My Beloved, you are not forgotten’.

Wednesday, October 4, 2006. Just a normal day. Greg and I were enjoying our little four-month-old Lydia, who we were finally in a good rhythm with. We were also becoming experts at the whole parenting thing. Now I was back on the pill, and I usually start on Wednesday mornings while on this particular one. Morning came and went, but Aunt Flo still did not come a knockin’. Thinking this was odd, I took the “baby test” from the dollar store we had left over from before.

I came out of the bathroom, looked at my husband, and a curse word passed my lips. I called the doctor’s office and asked if it is common to get a false positive when taking one of these tests…I was told to come in for a blood test, great. I went in, they took my blood and would call in the next day or so with the results.

We attempted to go about our day as normal, until the Chicago Cubs World series playoff game that evening. Here comes my husband’s favourite story to tell! We are at this game, amazing the Cubbies are doing this well. We are enjoying ourselves and love showing off our little one. Well, as the drinks were consumed by those around us, the man to my left and one directly behind me began to heckle each other’s teams. It was playful at first but quickly became rude and a bit unruly. Greg turned to the instigator and tried to calm the guy down, but he was not interested in cooperating. At this point I’ve had it, mama bear is NOT happy. I jumped to my feet, baby in arms, and got in this dude’s face. I told him how rude and idiotic he was acting and that he was only embarrassing himself. My little confrontation with him did keep him quiet the rest of the game. However, when I sat back down I began to sob uncontrollably for the rest of the game. I turned to Greg and told him between sobs of my once again ugly cry, “I better…be…pregnant.”

The next day I got a call from the doctor’s office confirming that baby #2 was on the way!

My experience were much more comical.

In Spring 2006 my husband and I felt like God was saying to put the decision to have a baby in His hands. So I stopped my pill, started prenatal vitamins, and we started “not NOT trying.” We continued with normal activities, not temperature taking or ovulation kits. We just let God take care of it.

I cried every month I found out we were not pregnant, it was dreadful. I was not worried about fertility issues. I was just SO ready to be a mom. October rolled around and I got a violent stomach flu that had been going around school. I’m talking bathroom visits every 15 minutes for hours on end. I decided I should see the doctor, but my husband suggested I take a test before heading to the appointment.

Well sure enough, I peed on a stick, the line appeared, and my hormones kicked in!

There I was in the waiting room no make-up, sick as a dog, ghastly pale, and in clothes that could double as pajamas. I could barely contain the emotion that had been building up in me since I saw the result of the pregnancy test. It is my turn to go back. As the nurse is taking my weight, temperature, etc, I lost it. I was sobbing. Now this was not some cute dainty little cry. This cry was the big ugly, can’t catch your breath, snots a runnin’ cry. The nurse asked what was wrong. I told her I might be pregnant. She asked it that was a bad thing. Whatever could have given her that idea?!?! No it wasn’t a bad thing at all, I was just a basket case.

Sure enough I was pregnant.

That’s what my Bible says young wives and mothers should be. That phrase had always some-what bothered me.  To my perfectionist tendencies, it hinted at dawn-to-dusk ironing, washing, caring for children, husband, too-many guests, having cushions all aligned, scrumptious food eaten hot from the oven, and no sleep! It also didn’t sit right with me when reading the story of Jesus with Mary and Martha.  Although Martha was not wrong in her hospitality, Jesus clearly felt that relationship with him was more important than the dishes.  (Hallelujah!)

I recently read Titus 2:5 in a new light.

The King James version talks of young wives and mothers being ‘keepers of the home’.  The Greek uses the word oikourous which means ‘to guard or watch over’.  The virtuous woman of Proverbs 31 ‘watches over the affairs of her household’, with the words ‘watches over’ coming from the word tsaphah used for a ‘watchman’ in Hebrew, meaning ‘to lean forward, to peer into the distance, to observe, to keep watch.’

So it’s not all about doing then!  I suddenly understood at a much deeper level what my calling is as a mother and a wife at home.  It is to guard and watch over my home:  to be a watchwoman.  God has given me the responsibility to watch, to observe, to hold things up to him in prayer, to be aware of the influences on my family and to preempt and warn of potential dangers approaching.  When my two-year old is unsettled, it is my responsibility to watch which things are influencing him, to pray for him, to prepare him for or protect him from oncoming dangers.  When the dialogue between my husband and I is becoming more and more tense, it is my responsibility to be aware of the outside strains and pressures and spiritual warfare and bring them to the Lord in prayer.

He also asks me to be patient – to wait and watch, resting in him and trusting in Him.  Trusting that over time the seeds that have been planted in the lives of my children, husband and whoever else is currently living with us, will bear fruit.

• Where has God called you to be a watchwoman at the moment?
• What are the tasks and qualities of a watchman? How do they apply to where you are called to keep watch? (Jeremiah 6:16; Isaiah 52:8, 1 Samuel 14:16, Matthew 24:43)

I commented to my neighbour who saw some of this, “Wouldn’t it be great if we had perfect children?”  Her wonderful response was that it would be rather boring!  “A kind of boring I could live with,” I thought!!

But then I considered how it is with God and us.  It would have been so easy for Him to create us as beings who were totally submissive and obedient – almost like robots – and I thought that actually I was glad to have free will.  However, if on occasions my kids annoy me, how often must I be utterly maddening to God?

Lately it’s been fascinating to watch another of my sons who seems to have suddenly grown up a lot.  I’ve been amazed at his confidence, his humour and his general maturity in a variety of different situations.  I’ve been even more proud when other people have given me positive feedback!  Of course, I raise my eyes in desperation when a minute later he’s mean to his brothers or is very immature in other ways.  What happened to my little boy?!  But it’s good to know that all those years of loving guidance and discipline are (sometimes) beginning to pay off.

I wonder how often God watches me with a warm and proud heart?  Over the years how much progress have I made as He has nurtured me?  Do I still get angry in the way I used to when someone rubs me up the wrong way?  Am I as self-centred as I was?  Do I talk more easily and freely and from a well of greater depth about my faith and friendship with God?

A good, strong, positive relationship is one of the most important and meaningful things that we can offer to our kids and, as they mature, they can offer back to us.  Of course, God doesn’t sin in how He relates to us, so that puts the responsibility of cultivating a good relationship with Him squarely on us (hopefully with the help of some close people around us).

I sometimes talk to God (or the kids) as I go about my day to day life: when driving in the car, clearing up the kitchen or when out for a walk.  I’d like to do it more!  However, I also need to make sure I don’t miss out on that ‘special time’ reading with the Lord or just talking to Him in a more intense way.  It can be hard both to have those ongoing snatched moments with the Lord and to pursue those quality times of ‘digging in deeper’.    Isn’t it wonderful when your kids sit on your knee or beside you, snuggle up and you talk or read stories together?  Isn’t it incredible when someone you love says ‘I love you!’?

Ponder

As you look back on the last 12 months, how would you say you have matured spiritually?  Where specifically do you think God is lovingly challenging you to mature right now?

Looking back at it now, I feel bad that I ridiculed Scarlett in order to save face in front of the others mums. In my head I was thinking that the incident surely showed them that I was a ‘bad mum’ because I hadn’t nurtured water-confidence in my child!  My impatient and embarrassed response revealed that, through Scarlett, I wanted their acceptance and approval when that’s exactly what I should have given to Scarlett when she needed it most at her time of vulnerability.  I felt my failure as a mum and I made Scarlett bear the brunt of it.  Surely if I was a ‘good mum’ I’d have spent more time teaching Scarlett water skills?  But even if that is so (and it’s ok with me if it is – we can’t all be good at everything), the incident made me really think about my acceptance of my child.  Am I only going to show her love when she makes me proud by impressing other people?  That’s a road I really don’t want to go down!

As a mother I feel I should unconditionally accept my child. In reality, however, in the heat of the moment, I was embarrassed by her poor performance in the water and so I was sad to discover my acceptance was actually based on her performance and it wasn’t so unconditional after all!  I know it was only a minor incident but it did make me resolve to never place my need for approval from others over my child’s need for approval from me.  That means, some time in the future I am going to have to put aside my insecurities and vanities and maybe feel the disapproval or disappointment of others in order to encourage my struggling child.  Am I willing to make that sacrifice?

The incident also made me think about my perception of God.  My reaction in the pool was a bad one, therefore it wasn’t a response that God would have.  It opened my eyes to realise that maybe I feel that God is ashamed of me when I don’t ‘measure up’, but actually I think God has used the experience to reveal to me a little more of His compassion and unconditional love for me, and therefore the unconditional love I need to have for others in spite of their weaknesses too.

This passage comes to mind:

“Which of you, if his son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him! So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.”

Matthew 7: 9-12.

The part of modeling I am feeling the most challenge in currently is how do I take care of myself.  This has also led to examining what was modeled to me in my lifetime, which may be another entry on another day.  But how do we take care of ourselves???  What does healthy selfish look like?  I am still coming to terms with how those two words can even coexist in the same sentence.

Whether you are a “mother” or not, you are mothering someone.  Someone, somewhere is watching how you live and looking up to you for answers.  So how do you model to others that you are taking care of yourself?  Do you consciously make an effort to take care of yourself physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually?  Do you plan activities, or a lack of activities, into your schedule to be sure you are taken care of, or do you come last on your list every time?

I have caught myself many a time taking the backseat to everyone else.  Then I realized I wasn’t so happy in a few areas of my life.  Yet I chose, yes I CHOSE, to play the role of martyr rather than seek out help for myself.  Finally, once I got sick of that role, I chose to take care of myself.  I planned time with girlfriends.  I scheduled family walks and trips to the zoo.  I talked with a counselor.  I found ways to be creative, since that’s what gives ME life.  And I found ways to help other people, while helping myself.  I love to organize.  So I found a friend who didn’t have time to sort through things for a yard sale (boot sale) and helped out.

I also stopped putting up with things I had put up with before.  My two toddlers no longer got what they wanted when they whined.  Suddenly mommy went deaf, or so they thought, and could only hear BIG words.  I stopped being the person in control of everything, and gave control away, where I didn’t need it.

There are other ways we all take care of ourselves.  I would love to see and hear feedback from others out there as to how you do that.  I know I could use some new ideas and I know God’s given a lot of us different creativity on how to take care of ourselves.  So please leave your comments, long or short.  And please contribute, whether you are a mom or not, female or not.

How do you take care of yourself???  What does healthy selfish look like for you?

I don’t always find my particular personality fits very well with being a wife and mother in this current ‘small child’ phase of my life. I am quite an extreme extrovert – or at least that’s what it feels like when I’m spending most of my days with small people and most (at the moment) of my evenings with a husband at business meetings or working on the computer. I am a strongly relational person, with ‘quality time’ being the way I give and receive love. Quality time in the day is difficult to attain when every adult conversation is interspersed with child directed encouragement, instruction or discipline. In the evening I would love to revert to life before children – popping round to friends’ houses at a moments notice, nipping out for a quick drink or deciding that the cinema would be the best choice for that day. As I write this I am not in my usual Saturday morning coffee shop, but sitting in again as hubby ‘networks’ and the children sleep. Most friends also have children and can’t do the spontaneous thing, so I am left to my own devices. Depending on my choice I can feel miserable or contented, ill at ease or peaceful.

If I focus on all the reasons why I should envy others for their lives in their life stages, I miss out on all sorts of things – the fact that I have a husband; the fact that I have kids; the fact that all too soon they will be grown and gone. I may find it cloying when they run to me and only me when they are upset, but I will miss it so much more when they choose not to. I have had and still have strong friendships – they take second place to my husband and family now as they should, but they are still there. I have so much. My choice – for tonight at least – is to be thankful.