Sunday, December 28, 2014

On Making Resolutions: A Life Left on Autopilot will Eventually Crash and Burn

I have a love/hate relationship with New Year's Resolutions. Statistics say that only about 45% of Americans even bother to make New Year's Resolutions. We are quite the motivated bunch, ay?

In 2014, the top ten resolutions were:

1
Lose Weight
2
Getting Organized
3
Spend Less, Save More
4
Enjoy Life to the Fullest
5
Staying Fit and Healthy
6
Learn Something Exciting
7
Quit Smoking
8
Help Others in Their Dreams
9
Fall in Love
10
Spend More Time with Family

Of those 45%, only 8% actually succeed in achieving their resolution. Clearly, the deck is stacked against me, so the "hate" side says why even bother. I'm not likely to be among the few, the proud, and the brave who actually achieve it anyways. They must be cut from a different cloth--a sturdier, more resilient cloth. Something like canvas or leather. I'm more like the cloth you find on the clearance rack--the funky, bright colored one no one else wanted that's kinda thin, uneven, and frays easily.

The number of people who never succeed and fail at their resolution every year is 24%. Much better odds there.

But the "love" side has one vital piece of data to volley back for the win:

People who explicitly make resolutions are 10 times more likely to attain their goals than people who don’t explicitly make resolutions.

Bam. Take that sturdy fabric. Everyone likes the clearance rack better, anyways.

So basically, more then half of America is screwed before they even get started this new year.

Are you among them?

I'm kinda tempted to be. Take the easy way out, or what seems like the easy way, at least. But it's like what I've learned about food over the last year or so: what's easiest isn't always what's best. What's convenient isn't always what's good for you. In fact, it's usually the opposite.

You see, setting goals is the easy part. Anybody can do that:

lose weight

Pencil + paper + two words. Done.

The hard part comes afterwards. The follow-through. The finishing. The keep on keepin' on when that's the last thing you want to do. Because you're tired and have had enough and see an easy way out. When you don't feel like working so hard anymore with all the planning and preparing and stuff. The dying to self nonsense. Sometimes you just want to do what you want to do without thinking about the consequences. 


But there are consequences. Because a life left to its own devices, on autopilot, will eventually crash and burn just like anything else. It's inevitable. Ever drive down a street in the city and see the majority of the houses boarded up, paint peeling, roofs sagging, wood rotting with the decay of neglect? Or the child who was never given boundaries or the appropriate discipline or direction while he was young, only to have his freedom locked up behind steel bars because the will could no longer be controlled? 

In order to succeed, there needs to be a plan. Goals. Boundaries and effort to live within and thrive in those boundaries. Hard work and sacrifice. Upkeep and maintenance on a house, parenting skills and love to shepherd a child, and intentional goals and a strategic plan in life. 

And not just any plan, a detailed plan. How will you lose weight? What will you do, each day, to get there? What is the number you're working towards? Write it down. And then tell a friend or two or five, because Lord knows you will need the encouragement and accountability in the valleys. You also need to be prepared to accept the accountability when it smacks you in the face and tells you to keep moving. The valleys will most certainly come, because by June only 46% of the people who made resolutions to begin with will still be working on maintaining them. And to me, that number seems kinda high...

It's not enough to write down lose weight and expect it to miraculously happen on it's own. It won't. That's how I operate most of the time, though, unfortunately. I just sort of "wing it" in life and settle for good enough. Kinda nailing it. Sorta. Because anything above and beyond mediocre requires hard work and discipline, and in my selfish nature, I don't often want to do that.

And more often then not I don't want to strive towards improvement because I miss the value and the worth there. I miss MY value and worth. I don't see it. Because if I could truly grasp my potential or who the Lord has created me to be,  I would never stop running towards that goal. I'd be unstoppable. 

If I don't give life my all, if I settle for just winging it and hoping it all works out okay, I've bought a lie. I've succumbed to the false belief that ultimately I'm not important. That my time is of no value, that I have nothing to offer this world. My friends, there could be nothing farther from the truth, but the Enemy would love for you to buy into those lies. And stay there all year among the other 55%.

Let me be the first one to tell you this year:

You are worth it. You are more then a cheap clearance rack fabric with fraying edges--you are a beautiful, strong tapestry, meticulously and artfully woven together by the designer and Creator Himself. You are valuable, and what your unique, beautiful life has to offer this hurting world is important. YOU are important. You are worth fighting for.

So fight.

Make a detailed plan. Start small. Climbing a mountain and changing the world {or your life} are achieved the same way: one step at a time. One choice at a time. One day at a time. Let's fling our inadequacies behind us and look ahead. To possibility. Let's focus on the goal and keep pushing forward. Let's do this. And I'm starting to sound like a Home Depot commercial. Hey, if a voice-over by Josh Lucas would help a sister out, just insert that here and read on.

But the times when you can't do it, when you simply can't go on another step, remember that He can. And He will always give you the strength you need to keep going. Because what He wants more then anything is for you to look more like Him each day. As long as you're seeking Him, nothing in heaven or on earth can stand in you way. 

Yes, it will be hard. Hard work is by very definition HARD. You know, just incase that slipped by you unnoticed. But it will be worth it, because you're worth it, remember? And this world desperately needs people who care enough about something to work for it even when it sucks. Especially when it sucks. Because the world and the people in it are worth fighting for, too. 

Here's to the New Year and the New You, whatever that happens to be. I'm rooting for ya. Kindly return the favor? 

xo


The unexamined life is not worth living. ~Socrates

Friday, December 19, 2014

Foto Friday, My Week in Review: December 12-18

Foto Friday is the collection of photo collages from my week. What used to be separate daily posts are now conveniently bundled together by the week. Enjoy!


December 12


December 13


December 15


December 16


December 17


December 18

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

Real Life Still Life, Vol. 3

Titled, "Oh Shid!" 
Circa December 16, 2014

Tonight the two year old somehow fell off her potty while she was sitting on it like she'd knocked back a few too many pints of apple juice or something. All we heard from the dinner table was a small crash followed by "oh shid!"

Hrm. Extra points for irony? 

Ahem.

Apparently we are NAILING this whole Advent thing over here. You?

#daddyaskedwheresheheardthat
#mommyhasapottymouth
#ilovejesusbuticussalittle
#whoops

Monday, December 15, 2014

For When You Wanted Christmas to be Perfect and It's Really Just a Mess


It had a been a busy week at our house, trying to fit birthday party planning in with the normal holiday craziness and schoolwork and life. When the days are full and I literally run from one thing to the next, I get this tightness in my chest that I can't seem to shake. The apprehension of things to come, the anxiety of fitting it all in, the worrying that it won't. It's like the busyness weighs on me and makes it hard to breathe. Hard to think. Impossible to write.


I don't do well with weeks like that. I get impatient and cranky. I hurry, rush and stress. Or at least I feel like I am all the time. And you know those days when you're so cranky you can't even stand being around your own self? Yeah.

Come Wednesday I'd had enough of myself and all the running. I wanted to breathe again and not be so frustrated with the kids all the time.


As I turned right off of our street and drove down the road to pick up the kids from school, I whispered a brief, quiet prayer to God…

I can't do this anymore. I'm sick of the hurrying and the hurting and the crankiness. I don't want to have another night like the ones we've had this week, and I know I can't do it myself. But you can. Please help me to somehow love my kids well, be slow to anger, and find joy in the mess.

We arrived at the school, and the kids ran up and piled into the van, relieved to be out of the cold. We went home and had snacks and worked on homework and I got dinner ready and on the table in record time, which never usually happens around here. My husband got home from work a little early and we all sat around the table and talked about our highs and lows.

After the table was cleared, my son sat down with my husband to do his nightly reading. I was across the room loading the dishwasher and listening to him give the characters in the story different voices and sound effects. Smiling and chuckling to myself, I put another fork and knife into the silverware basket.

Then it hit me.

I haven't yelled. I haven't been frustrated by things that would normally drive me nuts. I've smiled at my kids and even found joy in the chaos that is our after-school-homework-completing-sit-down-and-keep-your-hands-to-yourself-family-dinner craziness that is our weekday life.

I stood quietly and marveled at that small miracle, gratitude filling my heart. All it took was an invitation, and God showed up and did His thing. So seamlessly that I hadn't even noticed until it was already in motion.

Isn't it funny that all around you life can be a mess, yourself included, and all it takes is an invitation, a simple surrender, to usher in the presence of a Holy God. 
Nothing, you see, is impossible with God.
And Mary said,
Yes, I see it all now:
I’m the Lord’s maid, ready to serve.
Let it be with me
just as you say.
Then the angel left her.
Luke 1:37-38 {MSG}
Jesus wasn't haphazardly born into a messy stable surrounded by stinky farm animals and dirty shepherds--He chose that very place on purpose and for His glory. Nothing about that very first Christmas, that Holy Night, would strike us as perfect. In fact, we would probably say it was far from ideal. An unplanned trip about 70 miles to Bethleham on the back of a donkey, nine months pregnant and exhausted? Finally arriving after dark to find that there is absolutely nowhere to stay, not one room?

Perfect situation? Ideal circumstances? Not so much.


The one and only perfect thing about that very first Christmas was Jesus Himself. And that's still true today. Jesus thrives in the mess. He can be glorified in the mess. All it takes is an invitation.

Friday, December 12, 2014

Foto Friday, My Week in Review: December 5-11

Foto Friday is the collection of photo collages from my week. What used to be seperate daily posts are now conveniently bundled together by the week. Enjoy!


December 5: Happy Birthday, Kiki!!
What better way to celebrate turning the big 2-9 then going to Chuck E Cheese? A shout out to my lovely sister--this party was for her but was not about her… at all. She basically had a party for the kids and called it her birthday. She has such a generous, servant heart and is a blessing. She's also the "fun" aunt, and for good reason. :) We love you, aunt Kiki, and we wish you many more wonderful birthdays!!!


December 6


December 7


December 8


December 9
Okay, so I walked past some tight sweatpants in the women's section and sort of shrugged my shoulders. Then I saw them in the boys clothing section, and I began to get worried. Then I saw a woman WEARING THEM in the cosmetics isle.

People… TIGHT SWEATPANTS?? Please tell me this isn't going to become a thing. I will not be caught dead in them.

Some things were never meant to have adjectives placed in front of them, you know? Just let the sweatpants be sweatpants, for the love… 

And besides, the tightness defeats the entire purpose of sweatpants:

Sweatpants [swet-pants]
noun, ( used with a plural verb)
1. loose-fitting pants of soft, absorbent fabric, as cotton jersey, usuallywith a drawstring at the waist and close-fitting or elastic cuffs at theankles, commonly worn during athletic activity for warmth or to induce sweating.

Furthermore, if any of you subscribe to this latest fashion faux pas, I reserve the right to point and laugh at pictures of you in about ten years when you finally realize this was a bad idea… 


December 10


December 11

Friday, December 5, 2014

Foto Friday, My Week in Review: November 28-December 4

Foto Friday is the collection of photo collages from my week. What used to be seperate daily posts are now conveniently bundled together by the week. Enjoy!

November 28
Tonight Ruby prayed: 
Thank you for God, thank you for me, 
Thank you for poop, thank you for Sophie.


November 29


November 30


December 1


December 2


December 3
The moment when your skinny jeans start to fit more like, you know, jeggings, is probably the same moment when you should start actually working out instead of, you know, just thinking about it.

#andihaventeatenanychristmascookiesyet
#justsalad
#actuallyitwasmostlycroutons
#actuallyjustonebigcroutoncoveredwithsauce
#andcheese
#okayiatepizza
#apparentlyalotofit
#didsomeonesaychristmascookies?


December 4
Tonight was Toby's preschool Christmas concert, and he was so cute! He was scared and wanted me to be up there with him, which I couldn't do, of course. So I drew a heart on his hand on the side of the room where we would be sitting so he could find me, and find me he did! Big smiles and waves.

Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Real Life Still Life, Vol. 2


The current state of my kitchen. 

Then I found this online: 


And all I can say is that I must be "happy happy happy!!"


Here's to another Tuesday, y'all, and may the dishes ever be in your favor.

Monday, December 1, 2014

This Christmas Will Only Come Once in a Lifetime


I was talking to a friend recently who had received a rather tragic diagnosis about a year ago. It was just a few weeks before Christmas, and life as she knew it had been turned upside down. The tablecloth pulled out from under her, and she was left shaken but still standing. I remember looking at her from across the room at our Christmas Eve open house, with her oxygen in tow but otherwise looking completely normal and healthy, and coming to the realization that this may be her last Christmas.

Has she thought about that? I wondered to myself, pondering in my own heart the gravity and sadness of such a prospect.

The Lord's hand has been upon her this past year, and things have come full circle. She now has a clean bill of health and the hope of many, many more Christmas' to come. To Him be the glory.

Although we're trimming the same tree and hanging the same stockings by the chimney with care, it's a very different Christmas this year. For some, the cancer is gone. For others, the heartbreaking news that the cancer is back. 

I was watching my youngest daughter walk around the house tonight in just her diaper, and I realized that this would be the last Christmas that she would be in those diapers. Come this time next year, and Lord willing long before that, we will officially be a diaper-free household for the first time in eight years.


This will be the last Christmas that the light will reflect off her squishy baby cheeks as she hangs up ornaments on the bottom two feet of the tree, saying, decoratin', momma? Me, helping! and proudly patting her chest. This will be the last year she will walk down the stairs in her fuzzy pink snowman jammies, eyes aglow with the magic of Christmas morning. 

This will be the last Christmas that she insists on shaking her "booty" after sitting on the potty and mispronounces six as "chicken" when counting to ten. The last Christmas that her blond hair ties back in a spiky ponytail just right. 


This may be the last Christmas that my oldest still believes in Santa or that my daughter cries herself to sleep when it's time for the Elf to fly back to the North Pole for good.

This will be the last Christmas that my kids will ever be 8, 6, 4 and 2. 

Knowing it may be the last Christmas, would that change how you lived it? Experienced it? 


Because it is. 

It's the last one of its kind. 

This Christmas will only come once in a lifetime. Next year, things will be a little different. Maybe a lot different. They will be a little older, maybe a little wiser. 

Take notice this year, momma. Make sure you see this season for the rare opportunity that it is. Watch their little faces. Study their little fingers as they open their presents. Don't miss the wonder in their eyes or the magic in their soft whispers. Experience all the joys and memories this month offers and treasure all the precious moments with the littles that you love and hide them in your heart.

This Christmas is one-of-a-kind, much like the snowflakes we hope to see falling outside on that chilly and holy morn. Savor every last drop this month before it melts away, momma. You'll never regret it.

Sunday, November 30, 2014

Exciting Changes in the Air... Stay Tuned!!


This month amongst the holiday festivities, birthday parties and Christmas shopping, I'll be working on rolling out a completely new look for the blog on a custom site.

Eeeep!!!

One day this month, before the New Year creeps up and blasts it's horns in your ear and showers you with confetti and celebrations of new beginnings, I'll introduce you to the next chapter in my blogging life. 

So until then… Stay tuned. 


P.S. I have no idea what I'm doing, but I have built in tech-support in my husband, so hopefully it will all come together as I imagine, at least for the most part. {fingers crossed}

Friday, November 28, 2014

Foto Friday, My Week in Review: November 21-27

Foto Friday is the collection of photo collages from my week. What used to be seperate daily posts are now conveniently bundled together by the week. This one is full of traditions, celebrations and love. Enjoy!


November 21
Today was Eva's 2nd birthday. She is such a sweetheart. We went to Target this morning, and she requested something from Starbucks. I really wasn't going to stop there today, but I couldn't say no to her on her birthday… What can I say, she twisted my arm. We had a fun day together! 

The kids were biting at the bit for her to open her presents, which we were going to save for her party tomorrow, so they picked one for her to open tonight. It was an American Girl-type doll named Eva, which my mom had gotten for her some time ago. She loved it, and Ruby is quite excited to play dollies with her now and share clothes and accessories. 


November 22: Eva's 2nd Birthday Party!
Party Day! The theme was a combination of babies and Frozen--her two favorite things. Baby fish, baby donuts, baby oranges, yummy breakfast and "candy" {pink gum balls}. I asked her repeatedly what she wanted for her birthday, and her answer was always "candy." 

She squealed when she opened up the baby presents, and she was oh-so-blessed by everyone today. Thanks guys!!

P.S. We did something a little different for this birthday party, and I'll share the details about all that after the holidays. :)


November 23
Christmas is in the air, and it materialized as a tree in the living room today. I love watching the excitement in the kid's eyes, especially the baby, who was thrilled to participate this year and hang up some ornaments.


November 24
The kids have been doing "pickle training" since we got the tree up yesterday. One of our Christmas traditions is that we put the pickle ornament in the December 24th cubby in the advent box. Before I go to bed on Christmas Eve, I hide it somewhere in the tree for them to find in the morning. Santa leaves a small prize for the winner along with the presents.

Ruby has disproportionately won over the years {she credits her glasses for that because "they make everything look HUGE" and thus easier to find}, and the boys are determined to have a better shot this time. They started "pickle training" and conducted pickle drills all morning to practice for the big day, taking turns hiding and finding. So funny. Ruby still found it most of the time…

If that's a tradition you'd like to start, too, we got our pickle at Target. The kids love it. Our original one broke, and this one may too by the end of the month. It's well-loved.


November 25
I've loved having the kiddos home this week. It's been a sweet time of rest and a chance to spend some quality moments together. I'll be sad when they go back to school next week…


November 26: Pie Day!
We always spend the day before Thanksgiving baking a few choice pies that we have for breakfast on Thanksgiving Day. Eat all the good stuff first, right? I was reminiscing about two years ago when our pie-making plans got stopped short and we made an impromptu visit to the hospital instead to meet our beautiful baby girl.

The more years go by, the more excitement there is about traditions, and the more little hands there are to help prepare them. In my heart, I have a peace about being "done" with babies, but a part of me knows that another one would blend seamlessly into our family like all the others have before them. That we would look at them in the years to come and wonder what life was like before them and think about how we couldn't have lived without them.

Love is funny like that. In our finite understanding, we underestimate it's capacity for inclusion. For bending, molding, and stretching to accommodate lives. There are never too many to love, because love  has the infinite ability to expand if we allow it. So there will always be a part of my mother heart that will wonder, what if there was another? Because I know I would love them, too.


November 27: Thanksgiving
Enter his gates with thanksgiving and his courts with praise; give thanks to him and praise his name.
Psalm 100:4

Monday, November 24, 2014

Gratitude: Learning How to Embrace the Now


The other night the bedtime routine was particularly hurried and stressful, mostly on my part. The sounds of laughter and fighting echoed down the stairs, and I was frustrated before I even walked up there because they weren't following instructions.

I grabbed the last of the things they had forgotten and huffed up the steps, reminding them loudly that they were supposed to be brushing their teeth and wondering why in the world I must always be standing over them to get them to listen at night.


Teeth did get brushed, forts deconstructed and beds remade, blankets and drinks collected, and there were quick hugs and kisses all around as I finally tucked them into bed. Relieved, I changed into sweats and headed back downstairs, where my husband would continue to remind them to be quiet and go to sleep.

I gladly slumped down onto the couch, ready to relax and enjoy the quiet house. But when I pulled out my phone to check the Newsfeed, I read a story that put life into perspective in a flash. A story about grandchildren dying in a house fire. They were 8 and 4.

Two of my children are {almost} 8 and 4. 

Suddenly, the things that had irritated me so greatly this evening seemed trivial. Guilt flooded in like a tsunami and almost knocked me off my feet. I wanted to run back up those same stairs and hug them tight, stroking their hair and telling them I love them so much. And I was sorry. So sorry for being crabby.

Because what if a house fire claimed the lives of my children this very night?

That's not something you can prepare for, nor would you ever want to. But it happens, and with tragedies like that, you never see it coming. It can be the most ordinary day in the history of your life, and with the next tick of the second hand everything could change. That quick.

You can't control what life will throw at you tomorrow, but what you can do is live well today. Keep short accounts with the ones you love. Play on the floor with your children. Put your phone down and look at the life around you. Snuggle with your kids. Hold your husband's hand. Learn how to embrace the now, the present, so you don't spend the future wishing you could turn back the clock.

We can get lost in the emotion of a situation and it can blind us to the things, or the people, that are truly important. No matter how rough the ordeal or the argument or the trial, at the end of the day, the people you treasure are still here.

They're still here.

There's room for grace and second chances, time to say I'm sorry. An opportunity to find beauty in the mundane and joy in the mess. To embrace the crazy that can be our life sometimes. To forgive and move on.

Because when you truly live in the now and soak it all in, smell the smells and touch the people, you won't have to go searching for gratitude. It will find you in a million ways.

Don't waste those small but fleeting opportunities this season, my friends. Push through the awkward, wade through the pain, and make it right while you still have the time. Because at the end of the day, no matter what has transpired, they're still here. Don't waste those moments, those precious gifts of people that the Lord has placed in your life.

Live well and love well this holiday season, in His strength.

Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!

Friday, November 21, 2014

Foto Friday, My Week in Review: November 14-20

Foto Friday is the collection of photo collages from my week. What used to be seperate daily posts are now conveniently bundled together by the week. Enjoy!


November 14


We woke up to a LOT more snow! The kids were begging to go out and play ASAP. And it Just. Kept. Coming.


November 15




November 17




November 18



November 19




November 20 


Tuesday, November 18, 2014

Motherhood is Like a Seesaw: How to Balance Out Your Heavy Load Without Losing Your Mind



Do you ever feel like you have a love/hate relationship with motherhood?

I love spending time with my children, but what I wouldn't give to have a few moments {dare I say hours?} by myself, even just to go to the bathroom in peace.

I'm so thrilled to finally go on a date with my husband and get out of the house, yet I find myself talking about and missing the children while we are gone.

I look forward to them becoming independent and doing things for themselves, yet when they finally do, I have an pang of sadness because they don't "need me" anymore.

I love that the house is "lived in"--that the toys are played with and the clothes are worn and dishes are used and floors are dirty--but I often get overwhelmed and frustrated with the upkeep for a family of six.

I get excited about all the great things that they are learning and doing and discovering about the world, but I get frustrated and hung up on the few things I have to remind them of and repeat over and over and over…

I wanted them, I prayed for them, I've cared for them, and I wouldn't trade them for the world, but oh there are some days when I really wish I could just give them back.

I enjoy the parts that I love and feel guilty about the parts that I hate. I feel guilty even saying there are parts that I hate, even though I know it's normal and valid.

It's a paradox, really. How can one love and hate the same thing so passionately, sometimes even the same day? How can one enjoy something so deeply and yet the next day want to run away?

The way I see it, motherhood is like a seesaw. Some days are good, others bad. Sometimes you do really well with controlling your temper, other days you scream and yell and scream some more, just for good measure. Some weeks you're really consistent with discipline and the homework routine and chores, other weeks get the best of you and you start to wonder who the parent is around here. Some days require many, many apologies, others are filled with joy. Back and forth, up and down.


On one side there are four little rocks {my children}, and on the other side there's me. Now, if the seesaw is a favorite childhood pastime of yours, you can clearly see what is about to happen. The deck is stacked against me. I'll promptly fly up into the air, legs outstretched in panic, wincing upon impact as my butt smacks the board and I jolt to a stop, stranded at the top and holding on for dear life. And they are all down at the bottom, laughing at me.

Some days are just like that, right?

For a seesaw to work properly, the load {children} must be balanced out by just the right amount of effort {mother/father} needed to raise the load. And children are quite the load to raise sometimes, aren't they? Parenting takes so much more effort then I ever could've imagined, and sometimes I find myself stuck at the top all alone, just wanting to throw my hands up in the air and say to heck with it. 


That's why we all need a support system in our lives as mothers {and fathers and parents and anyone raising children}. We need a good fulcrum--something that supports or sustains us, a point of rest, a prop, something to hold us up. A point on which the seesaw that is motherhood turns and pivots, allowing it to function as it was meant to. Without it, it's just a board on the ground.

Do you have one? A fulcrum that is. A support. A point of rest. A prop? Something to help hold you up when you can't do it anymore on your own?

Every mother needs one, but she's probably the last person in the world who would ask for one. Sometimes we moms like to think that we can do it all on our own. Sometimes we feel like we should be able to. Other times, we know we really need help, we just don't know who to ask or we feel like we're imposing. And sometimes well-meaning observers don't think to ask, because they don't realize how hard life can be with little kids.

When the babies are little, they require constant care, all of our energy, and much of our sleep, leaving a new momma exhausted. The baby is physically light at this point, so the fulcrum needs to be closest to the momma. It's her that needs the most help while she cares for her baby. Simple things, like dinner, groceries, a nap, maybe a night out with adult conversation to rejuvenate her recovering pregnancy-brain.

But as the child grows and more children arrive, the load begins to get heavier. The fulcrum must start to move towards the children if the load is to be balanced out. More effort is needed to raise them--more intentionality, more consistency, more sacrifice, more love and grace. Bigger children bring bigger problems, and the village is the fulcrum that helps parents raise the child. 

We desperately need the village these days, but the solidarity and togetherness of this archetypal "village" seems to have become a thing of the past. The village has become divided, more like a town with arch-rival football teams, and there is an air of competitiveness. It's no longer just "us," but "us and them." It's about who has the nicest lawn on the street, the biggest house. Whose kid is the smartest and most developmentally advanced and whose is the all-star athlete. Whose kid is in the National Honor Society, and whose kid beat up the kid in National Honor Society.

A true village will not grow in the soil of comparison and jealousy, where we're more concerned about one-upping each another then we are about people. Little people. A village grows when we sow seeds of grace, compassion, truth, love, service, and authenticity. 

Would you plant some of those seeds with me today? When the neighborhood kids are in and out of your house with their muddy feet, will you take care of them as you would your own? Would you reach out to another mom in your life and let her know she's not alone? Would you take any opportunity you can get to speak truth and love into the life of a child, even if they're not yours? Would you extend grace to the family that doesn't have it all together, offering help instead of condemnation?

Because if we work together to raise this heavy load, we will grow stronger along the way. Just like a new momma's muscles grow and adapt to carrying around the tiny infant all day, we will learn how to balance each other out and where it's best to put the fulcrum along the way so that the seesaw continues to work properly. We will grow stronger together, and so will the village.

It all comes down to the fulcrum, our support system. If you're in desperate need of one, ask for help, my friend. There's no shame in that. It does take a village, after all. If you're in a good spot right now, offer to be the fulcrum. It takes a village, and you can be that for someone. The village doesn't have to be a thing of the past--it can start with you today.


Feel free to SHARE this with the other mommas in your life!

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