The reality of Jesus' love for me is just as real when I'm yelling at my kids as when I'm deep in prayer. The truth of me belonging to God is just as true when I'm reading the Bible or slamming a book in rage.
All in parenting
I'm thankful that every word I speak, every dish I scrub, every diaper I change, every spill I clean that’s done out of love for my Savior is divinely transformed from a mom’s chore into a daughter’s worship. I’m thankful the menial, outwardly-worthless moments of my day have purpose and have worth.
I have a five-month-old, an eight-month-old, a two-year-old, a three-year-old, a five-year-old, and an eight-year-old. Six little kids makes for a combined six to infinity number of possible sleep interruptions, but I slept uninterrupted last night and every night for as far back as I can remember.
In an effort to kill two birds with one stone, as they say, I’ll be reviewing some of the books I read with my kids for you here on this blog, specifically books relating to adoption and foster care. I decided to start with my very favorite “made for foster kids” book: Murphy's Three Homes!
We talked about war and poverty and injustice in the way you do with a seven year old, shoving big ideas into small words, dancing with light steps around heavy ideas. Then I addressed what it all means to her.
I discovered that as I began to really share my heart, God began to really change my heart. Instead of regurgitating rehearsed words, my prayers became declarations of the beautiful truths of God’s character. And I started to believe them. Instead of being so-afraid-of-asking-for-the-wrong-thing-that-I-ultimately-asked-for-nothing, my prayers became times of just telling my God what it was I really wanted. And I started to want what He wanted even more. Instead of carefully crafting my words, my prayers became a child’s begging. And I started to trust Him as my Father.
Moms of many littles, you have your own list of in-public-alone experiences, you've felt the watching eyes, you know the cast of characters you meet. Each “people group” has its own ways, and 95% of the time the behavior of members of each group falls predictably within their demographic’s conditioned response.
What is a SAHM (stay-at-home-mom for those who don’t frequent mommy blogs or have a penchant for annoying acronyms) of four littles doing at a restaurant by herself in the middle of the day? I’ll tell you what I’m doing. I am unapologetically running out the last hour of the clock on my babysitter.