Where is the love?

I really feel like I've been floundering in this thing called parenthood. There just seems to be so many blatant failures lately that are mocking me, jumping up into my face and saying "see... YOU can't do it!"

Yesterday, I sneaked out to the garage under the guise of cleaning and organizing it. Sometimes it's really hard to get some quiet and alone time with 4 young kids, so if it means I have to subject myself to some hard work to be alone, I'll do it.

I prayed for a while in the dark interior, squatting on the cold cement floor as I sorted through random boxes of stuff the previous owner of our house left behind. I just really need some answers! I feel like I'm not doing great homeschooling because my firstborn is supposed to be going into grade 3, but it seems like she's at more of a grade 1-2 level in her reading and writing skills. I am frustrated with the lying and stealing we've had to deal with (are we bad parents?). I feel like my house is never clean. I also feel like I spend way more time managing my children - ie. "do this, do that"; "don't touch"; "I said 'no' "; and I want to spend more time enjoying them and loving them and connecting with them.

As cheesy as it may be, something popped into my head that probably has been done before by another parent somewhere, but here goes:

If I teach my children right from wrong, and tell them to mind their manners, and respect their elders, but have not love, I am nothing but a clanging gong or cymbal.

If I homeschool with all the best curriculum, have my children trained to do all their chores, and pick up after themselves, but have not love, I'm no better than a yowling cat at 3 am.

If I feed my children organically, plant a garden with them and dress them in designer clothes, but have not love.... I've missed the point entirely.

Later, I felt the Holy Spirit pop another idea into my head while I roamed the aisles of the library, searching for books to inspire my begrudging little reader. Why can't I celebrate my daughter for who she is, and the accomplishments as they come to her, rather than measuring each step in accordance to what she "should" be doing. If I am continually thinking that she is not doing good enough, not at the level she should be, not like my friend's kids, etc, then I am continually going to look down on her in my mind and not give her the encouragement she needs. Ideally, I should be excited with each step, and encourage her just for who she is. I want to be excited with her for reading the word "school" even though I wish she was reading the word "physiologist".

I find it ironic that God has made my firstborn in a way that I find so difficult to understand, that relating to her is a challenge... But it is all in His plan. He didn't intend for me to find parenting a breeze, He planned for me to need His help all along the way.

So I'm really finding myself on a quest to love my kids just the way they are. I don't need to do much else with them - none of that matters if they don't feel incredibly loved. I want them to grow up and look back on their childhood and have them say "Hmmm... maybe the house wasn't perfectly clean all the time... but Mom sure loved us. She was always hugging us and spending time with us!"

That's all I need for a legacy. That's all I need to pass on to the next generation.

Love.

Truth and Lies

I'm almost at a loss... it's difficult to see a young child with such a blaring fault that they can't seem to overcome. My 7 1/2 year old daughter has been lying and stealing in a big way, and it's out of control! It leaves me thinking - what am I doing wrong as a parent? How have we failed her?

There's nothing I can do but turn to the Word of God and pray.
And I'm so very thankful for the help God gives me!

I've begun to have my daughter memorize a series of verses from Psalm 51:

6 Surely you desire truth in the inner parts; you teach me wisdom in the inmost place.
7 Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.
10 Create in me a pure heart, O God, and renew a steadfast spirit within me. 11 Do not cast me from your presence or take your Holy Spirit from me. 12 Restore to me the joy of your salvation and grant me a willing spirit, to sustain me.

I took some time to explain these scriptures to my daughter, and show her how she can use it as a prayer. I guess all I can do now is trust God to do the work.

And one last little note... as a parent, I'm so glad for the help of Holy Spirit - there's been a few times the past two days where I've had to ask Him: "Did Sabrina just lie to me?" And He gives me the answer. And the wisdom to deal with the situation.

I feel the sun warming me up

I can sing again.

I think that the sunshine is beginning to peek through the clouds and I can feel God's love a little more every day.

Last week, I had to be the MC for a woman's breakfast being hosted by our church, and while I was okay "acting" cheerful and chatting with people about totally unrelated issues, I found that when they got on stage to sing a couple worship choruses, I just couldn't do it. I had to stand at the back, hiding myself away, only able to mouth a few of the words in each song. It broke my heart to sing to God, the God who is over all the earth, who watches over us all.

However, as the week progresses, I'm finding the melody in my heart again. It sneaks up on me - it's like God's word and love is written on my heart, and no matter the trials or struggles, it can't help but bloom and grow.

Psalm 139
11 If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me," 12 even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you.

I'm not alone. There is a light that shines and pierces the darkness. I can lift my voice up to the God who sees all; who knows all; who understands my heart.

This is just how I feel...

My heart is so soft now I think I could almost describe it as squishy. Ha ha... and maybe a little bit broken, too.
I have a heightened awareness of how precious my kids are. I find myself almost wanting to wake them up at night; I'll be overcome by a panic attack, feeling like I didn't love them enough while they were awake.
I just want to get on with my life, but I also feel horrible and don't want to ever forget about my sweety that will never walk on this side of life. I'm trying to picture heaven and wonder what life is like for my baby there.
Right now, the positive thing that I can be thankful for is how much more I love my kids and husband. I'm thankful for a heart that is sensitive to life around me and that I find it so much more precious now.
Yet I'm finding life a lot more exhausting right now. I don't want to keep thinking or writing about anything else right now because it hurts too much.

It will be okay (but God is waiting to hear from me)

I haven’t talked to God about this yet. I prayed so much during the entire situation; I was confessing the Word, standing on my rights as a believer in Christ.
When I was in the hospital, in the middle of the night, I had gone to the bathroom and ended up passing out and falling down, hitting my face on the floor. I called out to God. Nothing felt real.
I sang to myself over and over in bed, caressing my lower abdomen with my hands, singing a children’s memory verse song that my kids listen to: “You knit me together in my mother’s womb…I praise you, I praise you… You knit me together in my mother’s womb. Because I am fearfully and wonderfully made… I praise you, I praise you… Because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.”
Over and over I sang. It was all I could do. I just had to believe that God was taking care of my baby.
Do I feel let down? I don’t really know. I guess I just feel like something was wrong with the baby, and it couldn’t survive in this world.
Part of me feels so sad though, and guilty… like I didn’t want the baby enough. Like maybe I didn’t try hard enough or get serious enough as soon as the bleeding started.
Yet I knew the facts. I knew that if a miscarriage is going to happen (in the first trimester) that there is nothing ANYONE can do. I know in my head that this really isn’t my fault. There is just a sadness in me though that wonders “why?” and wishes there was more I could do.
I don’t know when I’ll be able to talk to God. I don’t want to get angry at Him, but I still wonder why this happened. Why does an innocent, very much wanted and anticipated baby have to die? Especially when there are hundreds of thousands (maybe more) babies who aren’t wanted and are aborted every year. I wanted this baby! I would have loved it! I’ve got kids who would have adored it, cared for it, welcomed it into the family with happy hearts and open arms!
I think God is waiting for me. And He certainly is big enough to handle my outbursts, fear, and pain – even accusations. I sense that He is there, waiting to comfort me. But I know He is patient. He understands that I don’t feel ready. I’m scared to face this, and face the feelings inside of me. I’ll talk to Him soon though. I know that despite the agony and uncertainty and fears that I have; I know that I will ultimately be okay.

Saying Goodbye

(After a weekend of bleeding, yesterday in the hospital, I found out that I had lost my baby. I was nine weeks pregnant. I'm trying to sort out my feelings a little.)

Sadness...
I'm saying good-bye to someone I never knew.

I'm not ready to ask God "why?"

My heart is comforted by the little warm bodies that come and visit me in bed as I rest and recover. I'm so thankful for my healthy, perfect children.

I've been crying off and on all day.

Jesus, could you give my baby one kiss from Mommy? Please hold my baby close for a while and I will one day be there to hug and hold my little one.

Bring it on!

A battle wages. The war between good intentions and slothful habits.
My excuses pile up like dirty laundry all over the bathroom floor. Regret is like a bad taste in my mouth.

The second hand on the clock ticks unmercifully... and doesn't stop. If only I could slow down time!

There is an infusion like gentle rain that pours down and quenches my thirsty soul.

There is hope for the next minute, for success, for joy, for contentment.

My heart bows down as I scrub the syrup off the kitchen floor. First humility, then combat.

I find that there are two sides to my personal reformation. There is submission and resistance. James 4:7 says : Submit yourselves therefore to God, Resist the devil and he will flee.

I must fill my heart with repentance and submission; asking God for a pure heart that I may see Him involved on my behalf. Yet, I must also take up arms against that which opposes my joy, my fulfillment, my very existence. I feel an aggression coming upon me - an anger and defiance. I hear the roar of the lion of the tribe of Judah!

Look out: I'm not going to let down on this battle. I will not give in, I will not give up. If God is for me, who can be against me? WHOM SHALL I FEAR?
(insert victorious 'ROAR' here!)