One Day...

This is what my bathroom currently looks like.  To be honest, this is not a rarity.  One day this will not be.

One day I will not spend precious minutes of my morning looking for my mascara...only to find it in the makeup bag of one of my daughters.

One day I will get ready to leave the house for the day and every last light will not be on.

One day I will no longer have to enter into bedrooms to find my missing pieces of silverware, plates, cups, and bowls.

One day I will not have to horde my socks for fear of losing them to someone else.

One day all of my shoes will remain in my closet, unless I choose to wear them, and all of my hoodies will remain in my possession.

One day my entryway will not look like a drop zone of shoes, backpacks, coats, random school papers, various books, and sometimes old lunch bags.

One day I will fall asleep and no longer be woken up by the sound of someone taking a bath or a shower during the late hours of the night.

Sometimes those days sound dreamy.  But lately I've been reminded of just how fast time flies.  And before those "dreamy" days become my escape, I realize the other side of what that time will look like...

One day it will just be Vaughn and I sitting around the dinner table sharing our "highs" and "lows" of the day.

One day I'll walk in the door and there will no longer be voices that call out, "Mommy!"

One day I will no longer hear laughter coming up through the vents.

One day I'll lose my "in" on all that is trending and up to date.

One day when it's cleaning day, I'll be down to 2 pairs of hands instead of 6. (say it's not so!)

One day I'm guessing my house will feel oddly empty and quiet.

I remember longing for the day when all my girls might sleep through the night.  Now, there is an ache in my heart as I realize how close we are to only tucking three girls into bed at night instead of four.

Thinking about such things reminds me of seasons.  For every season, there are things that I love and things that I don't.  Some seasons for me are easier than others.  Winter is not my favorite season.  It's cold and the days are short.  It's cold.

But my second oldest was born in the winter.  And some of our family's favorite memories are made as we travel "home" each Christmas during the winter.  Without winter, would spring feel nearly as glorious?

I'm learning to embrace whatever season I'm in.  I'm trying not to rush past it, to hope for something different, or to simply miss out on the present.  I don't want to live wishing for what has been or fear what is to come.  I don't want to be consumed by regrets or be distracted by always wanting more.

I want to embrace contentment and trust.  I want to make sure we always have margin in our lives to soak in the present.  I want to value the ordinary, the everyday, the normal, because that's where we're living most of our days.

Giving thanks helps me do just that.

As I take the time to recognize the Father's hand at work in my life, as I give thanks for all He has done and is doing, my cup overflows.

Ann Voskam writes that giving thanks is "an invitation to slow time down with weight of full attention."

My prayer is that as my heart gives thanks, as I give my full attention to what is happening around me, time might slow, my eyes might see, my heart might feel, and I might be transformed through simply being present.

To My Girls -- I am so thankful for each of you...thankful beyond words.  Thanks for putting up with my crazy when I lose sight of the big picture and I lose my mind for just a second as I recover my "things".  I know there are days when you catch me just staring at you...I'm trying to soak you up.  I don't want to forget these days, or the days that have passed or the days to come.  I want to enjoy the moment, while hoping for the future.  I already have so many treasured memories, and I love nothing more than to sit around the table and listen to you girls talk about "remember when....".  My hope is that we will continue to make memories as we embrace the everyday.  And I know full well that each season will be a gift.

Making Mistakes

Awhile ago I read this blog post written by Lori Harris.  I connected with it on multiple levels.  A couple of weeks later, I was living my own version of the post as I stood face to face screaming profanities at Brien, who would not get out of my house. (I shared about Brien in a previous post)*


Before anyone gets too stirred up by this, it's important for me to explain that my safety was not at risk and that Brien is someone we consider a friend.  Yes, I also understand why it would be difficult to understand why I would be screaming such things to a friend.  Would anyone believe me if I said I started out that day with a heart longing to love well...that ten minutes before all hell broke loose I sat at our table and actually prayed with Brien?  I have a hard time believing it myself...but it's all true.

Maybe I should back up...

Two months ago, a dear friend of mine lent me the book Kisses for Katie.  The book stirred things so deep in my soul it scared me.  There were a number of overarching themes in the book that truly captured my heart.  For several days I walked around in a fog feeling undone by all that I was processing and feeling.  During those days, the Father was speaking to me. One of the things He asked me to do was to love those that He placed in front of me.  Brien was included in this.  I immediately began praying for my heart where Brien was concerned.  I still so desperately needed Jesus to give me more of His heart for this man

And so, the day came when I was given the chance to walk in obedience.  It was a difficult day for Brien, and I felt led to go pick him up and feed him lunch.  We talked at length during the car ride to my house about his struggles and frustrations.  I tried to encourage him, while still speaking truth to him.  When you're dealing with mental illness, all of these conversations border on the line of cray-cray in ways I can't even explain.  But I could feel something different happening in my heart and I was able to keep my calm and stay true to loving Brien at that given time.

Fast forward about an hour and a half, after feeding Brien and asking him if I could pray with him (to which he agreed, an act of God in and of itself.) and it was time to go.  It was here, my dear friends, that the train began to come off the rails.  And by coming off the rails, I mean not only derailing, but promptly driving full speed ahead into a brick wall and therefore ending in a fiery explosion of destruction.

To say Brien was having a hard time leaving my house would be like saying it's a little chilly at the top of Mt. Everest.  To say I was starting to lose my cool would be like saying...well, you get the picture, and it wasn't a pretty one.

Without going into details, the situation got heated and for a small window of time I think I lost my mind.  I did have the where with all to call someone to come assist me in getting Brien to leave.  However, even that proved to be far more intense and upsetting than any of us could have foreseen.

By the time Brien was gone, I was an emotional mess.  The adrenaline that had been pumping through my body was draining, and I wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and go to sleep.  The weight of what just happened fell heavy on my heart.  The tears that flowed were tears of anger, frustration, confusion, sadness, and disappointment.  So many thoughts, so many feelings.

The most logical place for me to go after something like this, is to question my heart.  What could I have done differently?  How could I have loved Brien better?  How much of the Father's work did I undo with my actions and words?  Usually at this point in time it would be about me.

However, as I laid in bed that night and another wave of tears hit me, I realized that my heart was breaking.  I couldn't shake the image of Brien, alone, having to deal with the fall out of the day all by himself.  I felt his loneliness, I wondered if he was cold, I knew he was hurting.  And for the first time I began to pray for Brien out of longing instead of discipline.  God was doing something.

Two days later, my phone rang.

It was Brien.

Nothing could have prepared me for the words that were spoken.  "I'm sorry...I lost it...I know I won't be allowed to come to dinner this week...I'm sorry."

Friends, this was monumental for Brien.  Apologizing is one of the hardest things for him to do.  And yet the spirit in which he was speaking to me on the phone was different than anything I had ever experienced from him.

After sharing words of forgiveness and encouragement, after communicating that we were going to keep walking this road together, I hung up.  Vaughn was sitting next to me during the call.  As the tears began to flow again (I'm telling you, it seems to be a constant some days), Vaughn asked me what I was feeling.

My response was, "How can I be so angry with someone and so dang proud of them within such a short amount of time?"  My heart was full.  Brien's phone call was testimony to nothing short of a miracle.  A miracle that was worth recognizing.  Knowing the situation, we knew the miracle could be short lived, and it was, but it was miraculous none the less.  Baby steps...

I love these words written by Lori Harris,

"This afternoon, as I ponder how you’ll receive this post, I feel led to encourage you towards more love and good deeds. Make mistakes in trying to love your neighbors. Risk the hurt heart or the anger or the fear. Risk being made a fool. Risk having to explain to your children why so and so said such and such."

I have failed over and over in my attempts to love Brien well.  I have begged God to give me more of His heart for the outcast, the overlooked, the hurting.  I never dreamed that on one of my worst days, in the midst of what seemed to be a huge set back, through all the mess that went down in my house, God would choose to further his work in me and in Brien, redeeming what felt lost, reminding me that He is bigger than our failures.

Since this time, we've already experienced a number of setbacks with our friend.  But we've also seen some things that spark in me hope and wonder as to what God is doing. 

This way of Jesus is messy, I've said it before. 

I can't help but believe, though, that the mess does not undo the Father.  I'm fairly certain He is not surprised by it.  As a matter of fact, I think he's probably used to it.  Some days I wonder if He isn't simply waiting for us to quit trying to tiptoe through it...if He's longing for us to simply dive in head first, risking the crazy that may ensue, maybe even getting a little beat up in the process, but running hard nonetheless towards those things that are of Him.

If we wait until we know we'll get it right, I'm convinced we'll miss out on some of the most valuable, most transformational parts of the journey. 

I don't like to miss out.

To My Girls -- I know you've witnessed numerous events that look similar to the one mentioned above.  You are no stranger to the mess.  I can only hope that as we embrace the mess together, you will see the value of taking risks in loving well and deeply.  My prayer is that you will not fear making mistakes, but understand that without them we cannot learn.  May you find such hope and security in the Father's unconditional love for you, that you are freed to run crazy hard after the way of Jesus.


*I have been granted permission by Brien to blog about our times together.