For When This Is All There Is

Is this it? Is this all there is? Laundry, dishes, and cleaning toilets; wiping bottoms, messes, and hand-rinsing poopy underwear before tossing them into the washing machine -- day after day?

And what's more repetitive than laundry and dishes is disciplining and training hearts and minds that naturally bend toward self.

The job is never complete and the affirmation can seem non-apparent.

Yet, when I settle into this – this right here – the hard, the mundane, and the repetitive;

when I accept it as my sacrifice, it becomes my joy.

And through the hard and mundane, it's the snuggles, giggles, and kisses goodnight; playfulness, laughter, and kindness that are my sources of affirmation, as a mother.

And I delight in them.

I delight in watching  my children splash, squeal, and cannon ball right into the air pumped pool, on a hot summer day.

I delight in setting out chicken tenders and corn dogs for when they get hungry and Popsicles stashed in the cooler with ice.

I delight in creating opportunity for my children and watching them grow.

I delight in the moments I can sit back and just inhale who they are and who I see them becoming.

I receive these affirmations daily when I open my eyes to see.

And if I ever find myself wanting more of something, I've learned to look no further than what is right before me. I've learned to travel, not further, but deeper to see all there is – seeking deeper love, deeper gratitude, and deeper joy in the here and now.

Because this is it.These are the moments that matter.

Because at the heart of washing clothes, dishes and bottoms is devotion, and at the heart of discipline and training is belief.

And that is all we ever really need.

.Sharing with Finding Heaven, The Better Mom, The Wellspring,  Graceful, A Pause on the Path,  Works for me Wednesday, Women Living Well, Getting Down with Jesus, and Raising Arrows

On Serving

I am in love with summer days, as I write. This one, in particular, that we happened upon. 

We've made Thursdays all summer our day of service, which means we simply and intentionally put a kind deed in love into action. Last week, we invited our friends to help us paint sun catchers to deliver to a local nursing home next week. 

Today, the week in between that particular service project, I was hoping to come up with something by the end of the day, but really hadn't a plan in hand. 

So we hopped in our SUV on an excursion, with a picnic lunch in toe, to explore a new park, the canyon, the deserted original town of Sheridan -- anything. 

One thing led to another and we found this delightful park in the small town north of our town, with a fishing pond, a dock and walking path around the pond. 

We found a picnic table, opened our cooler and nibbled on the turkey and cheese rolls, grapes and pretzels. We then walked over to the doc, where two girls and a boy, no older than ten, were fishing as though it was an everyday occurrence. They immediately pointed out to us the numerous fish and, every now and then, a turtle poking its head out of the water. 

After one girl announced to her brother and friend that they needed to get home, we took it as our cue to head toward the path and walk the short distance around it. 

And then, as though I had scoped the scene out the day before observing this to be the perfect site, we discovered the most meaningful element of our adventure.... 

 

And we collected every bit of garbage we spotted along that pond -- and in it, that we could reach with a stick. Surprisingly, there was quite a bit Tof trash that we would have never even noticed had we not begun looking for it. 

And that wrapped up our service project for the day. 

Of course, we didn't leave that small town without stopping at the ice cream stand, savoring doubles scoops of summer delight, and finally, leaving drunk with satisfaction.

Sharing with Saule Mama, Imperfect Prose, and Katherine's Corner

What Lies Beyond the Finish Line

Is the goal just making it to the finish line or is what lies beyond what counts?

For my sister, who was well-trained but held back to run with her son, it was an exhilarating, leisure eighteen mile jog through the mountain. For me, who was under-trained, it took everything I had to finish.

This was my first race in three babies. I thought I needed a goal to push myself toward in order to get back in the game. I was all too happy plopping myself on the couch with my cup of coffee in the morning and had little to no motivation to step out of that comfort zone. So, six months ago, I signed up for the Bighorn Mountain Wild and Scenic Trail Run on a whim -- and then rebelled against the training.

My sister, Sarah

However, in the last couple of months, I had to determine if I was serious about following through or if I was going to back out. But, I'm just not one to back out. And I sensed there laid a bigger goal somewhere in this for me -- yes, bigger than finishing a 30k trail run -- a greater accomplishment I was hoping for.

So, I ran my first twenty minutes about seven weeks ago and it took everything I had mentally and physically. In six training runs, over six weeks, I worked up to running eight miles, advancing a mile or two each week. It wasn't a lot, but it was enough for me to go for it and on Saturday I ran nearly eighteen miles -- twelve plus miles through the mountain and down the canyon and five miles on the never-ending road to the finish line.

About half way through, I felt ready to be done. I was soar and tired and, at times, nauseated. But I kept going. I had to in order to finish. If I had stopped to pity my weariness, I knew it would have only gotten worse, so I pushed through it; something I had not been in the practice of doing for some time. 


And I felt that amazing feeling of pushing through the hard to cross the finish line.

But if I'm going to run this race, the truth is, I'd rather be well-trained. I'd rather be trained so that I do not become weary so quickly, so that I am strong when I am climbing the hills and resilient when dodging the stumbling stones; so that my body knows better what to expect and I know how to give it what it needs.

And if I'm going to be motivated in the training, rather than rebelling against it, I have to be willing to see beyond that finish line. I have to see a greater goal and outcome for the bigger picture.

I have to recognize that this race is all a part of a process and that this one challenge will make me stronger if I simply don't give up.


And the better trained I am when it doesn't seem to count, the better able I'll be to overcome the challenges that do seem to count. 

Running through the canyon

Because it all counts, how we live this life. And our perception of the hurdles depends on our training for the prize.

The better trained we are, the smaller the challenges will appear. 

The five mile stretch to the end after the mountain

This morning, I was crazy enough to put on my running shoes and hit the pavement for a short twenty-minute run, partly to work out the soar muscles in my quads, but more so, because I had an itch -- an itch to keep going.

And that, my friends, was the greater goal for me and bigger accomplishment.

Because what I really want, more than crossing that finish line, is what lies beyond it.


Counting with Ann gifts of gratitude:


mountain top beauty
pushing through the hard
a support network to run with
hearing, "there's mommy!" as I entered the park to the finish line
soar quads to remind me of this accomplishment
the desire to keep going
daughter's ballet recital
family who pull together for one or two people
watching my husband run in from his 50k

Sharing with A Holy Experience, Finding Heaven, The Better Mom, The Wellspring,  Graceful, A Pause on the Path,  Works for me Wednesday, Women Living Well, Getting Down with Jesus, and Raising Arrows

Five Minute Friday :: Path

I'm linking up with Lisa-Jo for Five Minute Friday with with writing prompt:

Path...

Go

Are we to choose the wide or the narrow path on this journey in life -- this race, where Paul tells us to press on toward the goal in Christ Jesus? I look around me and so often wonder. In efforts to give this race, or maybe ourselves, a good reputation it seems we're choosing the widest, smoothest path possible in order for everyone to fit in. But as easy and enticing as that path may look, I dare to choose a different path.

In just a little over twenty-four hours, I'll be motoring up the mountain to arrive at the starting point of a 30k mountain trail run. This is my first year running the race and I hear the path is fairly narrow, wild, rugged and scenic. Although their are hundreds of people running this race, I hear it feels spacious. I hear when one passes another runner, the passer sometimes offers an encouraging word to the passe. I hear the hardest part of the race is the last five miles of hot, flat, dirt road to the finish line, after the runner accomplishes the mountain. Ironically, that road is the widest, flattest path of the entire race and something tells me that having a big group of runners surrounding me in that last stretch isn't what will matter to me. I'll be focused on that finish line. And knowing my husband is trudging through that mountain, and those family members waiting and cheering for us will be what matters most. They will be the people I most want to see as I cross the finish line.

This path -- this narrow, rugged path -- is the one I choose in life. Although more difficult, I choose it -- running in freedom -- over the wide and crowded path.

This is my race. The one I've trained for, know my strengths and limitations in, and know my goal to press toward. I won't be looking for the 100 mile runners, nor comparing myself. I'll remain focused and run my race -- encouraging others along the way.

And what inspires me most about running this mountain trail run tomorrow is this: the narrow, wild, rugged and scenic -- all adjectives pointing through the narrow gate to our Creator.

Stop

"Don't look for shortcuts to God. The market is flooded with surefire, easygoing formulas for a successful life that can be practiced in your spare time. Don't fall for that stuff, even though crowds of people do. The way to life—to God!—is vigorous and requires total attention." Matthew 7:13-14 MSG

“Enter through the narrow gate. For wide is the gate and broad is the road that leads to destruction, and many enter through it. But small is the gate and narrow the road that leads to life, and only a few find it." Matthew 7:13-14 NIV

Also sharing with Beholding Glory

What They Really Want More than Anything

Drew wanders up the stairs, first one up this morning, and asks for his morning dose of chocolate milk. I tell him I'll get it for him in just a minute, as I am waking the others to get ready for church.

I wake each child up and the youngest one is raspy with a runny nose, so I decide to keep her and Drew home with me and send the older two to church with their dad.

I head back to the kitchen, open the refrigerator to retrieve milk and chocolate syrup, and discover no milk. It's then that I remember I didn't make it to the store yesterday and we drank the last of the milk last night.

But I spot two caprisuns and I think they will like that, so I offer them to Drew and Madeline. Madeline is happy, however, Drew is not.

"I want chocolate milk!" Drew cries.

"I'm sorry, Drew. We used the last of the milk last night. But I'll buy some more today so you can have some later."

"I want chocolate milk!" He persists throwing himself prostrate on the floor pounding his fists.

"I'm sorry, Drew. We'll buy more later."

Knowing there is no reasoning with him, I simply set the caprisun down and walk away to give him some time to work it out on his own.

Tantrums are never easy to contend with, but as I walk down the hall, I remember the statement I read in Raising Great Kids a few years ago. The statement that encourages parents to empathize with their child's struggle because this stage of life is hard on them, as they are expected to transition from completely self-centered to thinking outside of themselves.

His rage, defiance, or whining may be hard on you. But your child is in lots of pain himself - that's why he is protesting. Your child has to give up an entire way of looking at life. ~ Dr. Henry Cloud & Dr. John Townsend

I wonder how I can help him, when my explanations and solutions only instigate retaliation, yet I know leaving him alone in his three-and-a-half year old distress is not the answer either.

I'm wandering aimlessly through the next room as I recall what we've done with every other tantrum we've encountered over the years.

And I contemplate how I can give him what he might want even more than that chocolate milk.

Then I walk back over to him.

Still crying into the carpet, fists pounding, I squat next to him.

"Drew, can I hold you?"

"I want chocolate milk!" he bellows into the carpet.

(I wait a couple of seconds)

"Drew, are you ready for me to hold you?"

"I want chocolate milk!"

(I wait a couple of more seconds)

"Drew, mommy is going to pick you up now."

I lift him up and bring him in close to me.

He lets me.

Yet, he's still crying on my shoulder, "I want chocolate milk!"

I walk him over to the couch and sit with him nestled into me.

He then pulls back, looks over to the table I had set the caprisun on and cries, "I want a caprisun."

"Okay," I thankfully comply.

I set him aside and stand up to retrieve the caprisun, punch the straw into the pouch and hand it to him.

"I want you to sit with me," he whimpers.

And I do, as he slurps his caprisun down and tosses the pouch aside.

And I continue to, as he watches an episode of the Backyardigans with his little sister, who leans into the other side of me.

And everything is okay again, because more than the things our children throw fits over, as much they may seem to push us away over these matters, we are what they really want more than anything.


They don't want our reasons, excuses, or explanations.

They don't care that much about the thing they can't have, really.

They want us at the very core of their distress - our time, love and affection.

They want our acceptance, approval and affirmation.

And this, with proper, intuitive timing, could be the solution to just about any distress in a child's life.


Continuing to count gifts of gratitude with Ann today:


two lovable bodies on either side of me, pressed in
a visit from my dad
family water fights
oysters with friends
friends loving on my children
undeserved blessings
unexpected blessings
having everything I could possibly want right here in front of me
and going deeper to see more of all that is before me

Sharing with A Holy Experience, Finding Heaven, The Better Mom, The Wellspring,  Graceful, A Pause on the Path,  Works for me Wednesday, Women Living Well, and Raising Arrows

On Finding Joy in the Mess

We strolled through the scent of fresh fallen rain at the pace of my first born, whose tip of his Dennis the Menace cowlick came just to my waist, my second born tucked into the backpack on my back.

As we meandered around some side streets, we found ourselves on a dirt road with little pot holes along the side brimmed with fresh rain. Our slow walk turned into a stop-and-go as my toddler discovered the first puddle, stomped and splashed a while, then found the second puddle, and the third.

Enveloped in patience, I delighted in his playfulness a while, as I admired my own easiness, then gently coaxed him along.

By that third puddle, that ease was challenged when he exclaimed, "Mommy! Do you want to splash with me?!"

"N...," was headed for my tongue and out of my mouth as I heard a gentle voice within say, "Why not?"

Scrambling for reasons, I looked down at my feet and, like a lens zooming in on the obvious, I saw bare feet in summer flip flops.

"Why not!" I exclaimed. And we splashed together in messy joy, puddle to puddle, all the way home.

Isn't that how the Holy Spirit works? Whether we are fully enveloped by the fruits of the Spirit or we barely hear that whisper of direction and council, when our natural inclination may be the very opposite; how ever the Spirit pours into our lives, our response to Him just takes us to a whole new level of living – more patience, deeper joy, love with abandon, etc. – and we have the ability to pour directly into another person's life because of it. This is profound!

This is a Gift…

Because sometimes we don't want to jump in the puddles. We want to stay neat and clean and not be bothered. We'll walk along side someone as long as it doesn't get too messy. And we'll even pat ourselves on the back in our limited generosity because we, too often, allow our emotions to be our guide.

But love, which God is, through the power of the Holy Spirit, leads us a different way, a selfless way. And when we accept whatever that may look like, at whatever the cost, we find deeper meaning and purpose in these moments that add up to our life…

Because by His leading, we'll always find joy in the mess.

So let us not forget the Gift as we walk this broken road full of pot holes and muddy puddles.

And let's not just play it safe and dodge the obstacles of life.

But may we jump in where the Spirit leads! May we allow Him to guide and council us into the messes we were purposed to bring love, deliverance and joy through.

And you also were included in Christ when you heard the message of truth, the gospel of your salvation. When you believed, you were marked in him with a seal, the promised Holy Spirit...Ephesians 1:13 (NIV)

But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, forbearance, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control. Against such things there is no law. Galatians 5:22-23 (NIV)

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Sharing with A Holy Experience, Finding Heaven, The Better Mom, The Wellspring,  A Pause on the Path,  and Raising Arrows