Today over at A Mother on the Road Less Traveled, I disclose a less-than-flattering side of motherhood. Just a few days before Mother’s Day, I’ve been thinking about what kind of mother I have become … this year.
I thought it better to do this BEFORE Mother’s Day, before the brunch mimosa clouds my brain. As Mother’s Day approaches, it’s hard not to give in to the expectation of flowers and candy and breakfasts in bed, and to agree with the general population that I deserve this kind of adulation.
The truth is, there is a lot of room for improvement. As you will see if you read the other blog post.
The good news is … there is still time. Every day is a fresh chance to love a little more selflessly, forgive a little more deliberately, and to ponder the very real (albeit painful) connection between who we are … and what we choose.
So this year, for Mother’s Day, I’d like to skip the white roses and dark chocolate (lovely as those things are). Instead I’d like to stock up on empathy, gentleness, and kindness. God knows my kids need them even more than I do. And while my DH can’t make a last-minute run to Walmart to stock up on these particular commodities, I’m hoping that my prayer will reach the right ears.
What do YOU want for Mother’s Day this year?
Do you ever feel invisible at church? Have you ever gone to a church event and felt lonely? Do you watch people chatting around the room as your kids attack the donut table, and crave some kind of personal connection? I’ve felt this way, especially after moving to a new home or church. Not knowing how my kids will […]
via Lonely at Church? — A Mother on the Road Less Traveled
Today over at “A Mother on the Road Less Traveled,” I share the story of how I decided to become a foster parent, a tale that I can trace back to middle school.
If you have ever been a foster parent, what prompted you to consider doing this? I’d love to hear your story!
Originally I posted this at “A Mother on the Road Less Traveled.” But since we are in the middle of #40Day Challenge: Mother Teresa Edition, I decided to move this tribute here.
Because of the pictures I post most often on my blog, it would be reasonable to assume that we have only one child: my incandescent fifteen-year-old who never met a camera lens she doesn’t like.
But today we celebrate the birthday of another child who, though allergic to getting his picture taken (ahem), is also my pride and joy.
He turns seventeen today. Yes, on Ash Wednesday. Father says he can still have birthday cake – though he can offer it up if he wants to. (Which he probably would, so long as I give him the same weight in frozen blueberries.) We have one more year together until he finishes high school and officially launches himself into adulthood. Christopher, in honor of your birthday today I want you to know 17 reasons I’m so grateful God brought you into our lives.
- You’re my “homeboy.” Unlike Sarah, who can’t wait to launch herself into the big, wide world, you are happiest here (well, here with your girlfriend). And though you spend most of your waking hours in the toxic zone of your room, because it is your birthday I won’t go there!
- You are funny. Your classmates and teachers, your friends, and your family all delight in your wicked, playful, Christopher-ish sense of humor. Yes, you sometimes use it to get out of trouble (who wouldn’t?). But you are one funny guy.
- Your smile. The sight of that roguish grin makes me all warm inside. Like sunshine on a cloudy day. You long for braces … and you will get them. But I love your smile just the way it is.
- Your art. You love your colored pencils, and have killed whole trees in your drive to capture the perfect animae character. You have an artist’s soul.
- You are kind and loyal. Two of the qualities I most admire about your dad, you have in spades as well. Despite all the changes in your life, you hold your friends fast.
- You love fiercely. It takes my breath away — and frankly makes me a little scared for you — to see how you give yourself to your friends without holding anything back. I pray that they will always return the favor.
- You believe, no matter what. When your schoolmates challenge and tease you, you don’t back down. You know what you believe, and stick to it in good times and bad.
- You can see your future, and know what you want. That house in Michigan, a good job, and a family. In an age when marriage is a shaky institution, you aspire to be a good husband and father. That makes me prouder than I can say.
- Your compassion. Even when your sister annoys the snot out of you, at the first tear you are visibly moved to reach out to her.
- Your eyes. They dance when you are happy, they cloud over when life gets hard. Those clear blue orbs really are a window to your soul.
- You are easy to make happy. A large bowl of ice cream (with blueberries, if possible) with your girlfriend and an animae cartoon … Or an afternoon with Jacob on his farm. These are the things that light you up.
- You try. When you mess up, you do your best to fix it. Over and over again, you start over and keep trying. That’s a hard skill … and you have it.
- You take to heart my advice. You don’t always look like you are listening … but I see you taking up the challenge.
- Your balancing act. Part boy, part man … all heart.
- Your quest for goodness. You sometimes mess up (we all do). But I have no doubt that, in your heart, you want to be a good person and make the right choices.
- You trust people. Despite all the difficult hand life has tossed your way, you keep reaching out.
- You call me mom. You are the only boy in the world with that particular challenge. Because of you, my heart lives outside my body — and I have the privilege of helping you achieve your dreams. I’m so proud to call you my son.
Happy Birthday, Christopher!