MollyMadonna.com

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Surrounded. (15)

Every good gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no variation or shadow due to change. James 1.17 ESV

Tonight was a gift to my heart and spirit in all of the best ways. A small group of dear-to-me women gathered in the backyard of a sweet and gracious friend in honor of this incredible life growing in my belly. We sat around a gorgeous table filled with thoughtful and delicious food, ate and had fellowship, painted and shared, laughed and prayed. There were lights strung around the patio, hydrangeas in vases, watercolors filling up the space where empty plates had been. As our amazing host prayed over dinner, the music in the background began as if on cue:

“And all my life You have been faithful, all my life you have been so, so good. With every breath that I am able, Oh, I will sing of the goodness of God…

“…I love your voice. You have led me through the fire. And in the darkest night, You were close like no other. I’ve known you as a Father. I’ve know you as a Friend. And I have lived in the goodness of God.”

I have longed to gather with friends in this way, whether over baby or just because, and there was an extra sweetness in tonight being what it was for so many reasons. To have these incredible friends pray over baby, over every detail, over things deep in my heart that aren’t always spoken–it was just the most hopeful and grace-filled thing. I don’t know how to articulate more except to say that God’s goodness continues to bring me to new places along this road, and tonight was filled with His presence and peace.

Baby, if you ever wonder how you came to be, I’ll have a lot of stories to tell you about the village that lifted you up before you were ever even growing inside of me. They lifted you up then, and they are still lifting you (us) up now, and I don’t think they’ll stop because that’s who they are and who we’re so fortunate to do life alongside. You are about to begin a life here that is filled with some of the most beautiful people I could hope to surround you. It’s all too much grace to contain and gives me so much hope for your future and the future of this world you’re joining for such a time as this. What God has done in your story and what He will do…I just can’t wait to tell you someday, and I can’t wait to find out who you are and who He has created you to be.

You are loved, you are a miracle, and you are surrounded by so much goodness it’s hard to contain it. Come when you’re ready, sweet honeybee. This unfolding is going to be one of the greatest adventures of our lives.

MM

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Peace Like a River. (18)

Before today began, I was carrying some anxious thoughts about things that had transpired over the past week…at my most recent baby appointment, in conversations about how hospitals are functioning right now…just stumbling blocks tripping me up on my way towards peace surrounding these last weeks of pregnancy and our experience when baby is born. I reached out to several friends and family asking for prayer about the specifics of today, with two follow up appointments that would directly address my concerns. I was able to walk confidently into this morning because I knew that people were praying, and that made all the difference in the world.

I’ve learned in this pregnancy that peace is not something I can take for granted, even though I know it’s offered to me generously. There are certain things that are not absolute, and just assuming peace is one of those. I think in some Christian circles, a Christ-follower not having peace can be confused with them not having faith or being faithful enough, not trusting that God can cover something fully, or not striving enough to seek and reach peace through any number of channels. While I know that peace can be achieved in any situation because of who God is and how He works, a guarantee of peace is not everyone’s journey from the start. When someone has been through trauma, they carry it with them as a piece of who they are and a part of their story. God can certainly heal that trauma and I know He does, but I think that healing process is partly that progression towards peace. It’s not necessarily instant, and it’s not a fault of someone’s not to be able to just grasp peace from the get go. God works in His timing; to second guess that for someone else just isn’t my/our place.

I say all of this, because sometimes I’ve felt like others assume I should just be able to be peaceful about something when it’s not that simple, and I think we can make this mistake with others when we’re not mindful. I don’t lack faith in God enough not to trust Him–I trust Him completely. And trusting Him completely sometimes means trusting that His peace will come, even if I don’t experience it instantly. It’s asking for prayer from others, it’s spending time in worship over and over when other efforts don’t get me there. It’s being patient and letting the growth happen that God needs to do in my heart and spirit before I can fully realize the peace He’s offering over a situation. It’s going back to Him in petition again and again.

This pregnancy has been nine months of a journey so far that has led me to my knees with God over and over again. I feel peace, and then it pulls away like the tide on the shore. It ebbs and flows with seasons and circumstances, and all for good reason in my human nature and daily life. Deep down do I have peace that God has this baby and all of the surrounding details close to His own heart? Yes, for sure. But do I have to work at maintaining that peace in moments, or when new alarms go off or questions are raised that I didn’t see coming–also yes.

Tonight, after two helpful appointments today and some clarifications about details that grew to be relative bullies in my head, I am sitting here feeling so much hope and positive anticipation for what is ahead. I know that might still come and go in these last days and weeks, but for today, I want to remember what this feels like and to put a stake in the ground where the Spirit showed up and God offered great measures of peace to my heart. There are miles to go, but everything feels closer and more real as I settle in tonight. The fact that this baby is coming is more tangible by the day, which might seem obvious to some but has really been a process for me.

I’m going to keep praying over all of the details, and yet, I’m choosing to let go of anything I’m able to surrender–to the safest place I know of for the things of this world to settle. For today, peace feels like it is flowing over my heart and mind and body like a river, and it is well with my soul. When harder times come, it is still well because of Jesus, but the sweetness of the river of peace is a gift I will not take for granted, nor hope to forget any time soon.

MM

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Let’s Be Noticers. (28)

This morning we came downstairs and E gasped as I opened the blinds to our slider door: “Mom!! There’s a bald eagle!!!” and sure enough, one had just flown past our deck. We watched as it circled back around before flying over the water and away between houses. The timing was pretty perfect and the eagle was amazing; we couldn’t have contrived that moment on our own. But the fact that E saw it and celebrated it so excitedly was a gift in and of itself. It felt like a very good start to the day as we all hurried on to breakfast and off to take her to camp.

H has been away all week at overnight camp, so when I dropped E off today, I hadn’t seen H since Monday morning. I’ve been intentional all week about not being a shadow parent, but I’ll admit that I hoped I might catch at glimpse of him at least once during our twice daily drop-offs and pick-ups. As I walked back to the car after saying goodbye to E, I noticed H’s group sitting up on a balcony having breakfast, and I made the conscious decision not to call out to him or try to get his attention. “We pick him up in the morning,” I thought to myself. Then I sat in the car for a few minutes sending a quick email off to him instead. Just before I started to drive away, he came back out to the balcony alone, eating what was probably the last few bites of this morning’s cereal. Since he was by himself, I opted to shout a quick, “HD!” out the car window, and he turned around to offer me a big smile, a wave and an air kiss. My heart! I quickly waved and blew a kiss back, the window back up in a matter of seconds so as not to embarrass him, when he gestured to me to open it up again. “Where’s C?!” he asked. It was so sweet and sensitive of him to even think of it. And of all days this week, our littlest buddy was at home with dad, so I told H quickly, shouted a “Love you!” and headed off. It was a 20 second exchange, tops. But it was just what I didn’t know my heart needed, and if I hadn’t felt the nudge to stay just a few minutes longer, we both would have missed it.

From there I headed to my 36(!) week appointment and my first non-stress test. It was such grace to have everything check out as it should. Listening to baby’s heartbeat for 20 minutes on the monitor was an unexpected way to connect with our babe that I enjoyed so much–another gift among gifts stacking up, all before mid-morning. I came home to find a little bench sitting by the window just inside the front door. C came running, and I asked him what the bench was doing at the window. “I was watching and waiting for you to come home!” he said sweetly. A little while later upon his request, C and I spontaneously snuggled up on the couch to watch videos of owls “to learn facts about them.” All the while he cuddled his newest favorite lovey–a beanie baby owl of mine from years ago that I found in the basement while digging out baby items yesterday. For the rest of the day, he shared owl facts with everyone. What a joy! Just the kinds of things mama dreams are made of, right? And especially when feeling oh-so-pregnant and relishing in every good and beautiful thing or distraction or moment. So many graces.

This afternoon after the last day of day camp pickup for E, we stopped at our favorite blueberry farm for a quick picking session to snag some berries for the weekend. While E and I picked together, I mentioned that I could stay there all day, out in the quiet calm of the field. A few minutes later, E said to me, “It’s so peaceful out here. So quiet. And listen! Now the birds are singing for us and there are so many blueberries!…” She is a girl after my own heart. It was a perfect moment. We’d found a shady spot to pick out of the sun and were filling our bucket with July’s goodness, one handful at a time, together. I have the sweetest memories of picking berries with a very round belly twice before, and doing it again just feels like exactly where I’m supposed to be at this time of year. It’s a little slice of heaven every time.

It is one of my core values to live in wonder with our children, and when God makes a way for that desire of my heart to be filled, it’s just one of the best feelings ever as a mom. Part of my intention to live in wonder is to make a big deal out of little things that really matter because they point to God’s creation–a butterfly landing in a bush in the front garden, a family of baby killdeer running around in the sand, the smoothest rock on a rocky beach, the way the cucumbers grow from their flowers and the zinnias have gotten so tall. Together, we’ve cultivated a habit of noticing and sharing in the things worth noting together, and it’s probably one of the aspects of my motherhood I feel most confident about. Every time one of the kids points out a unique bug (or in C’s case the other day, a dragonfly exoskeleton), a small animal, a perfect flower or someone’s pretty dress, we celebrate the beautiful in the ordinary, and it makes the days resonate with gratitude in ways I’m afraid we’d miss otherwise.

I always want to be someone who celebrates beauty when I see it. I want our kids to know that it matters to notice the good, everywhere we can find it. I can’t wait to open up a whole new book of wonder as we bring home a tiny babe once more and everyone can watch first hand as he or she joins our family, grows and discovers. Our kiddos are going to be the best teachers to this little one, and it’s because they’ve embraced the art of noticing. It’s a joy to be out in the world together, where we all see things with different eyes and find wonder in different directions at the same time. Sometimes the noticing is what gets us through, and it feels like God offers little nudges of His goodness all of the time so that it’s there if we’re willing to seek and grasp it. I’m so thankful there were so many lovely things to pay attention to today. Outside of them, the day was quite ordinary–or it could have been.

So grateful for these days with our babies. My heart overflows when I think about the goodness of it all.

MM

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What’s Right in Front of Me. (35)

There are so many days right now where I feel an extra nudge to be present, and today was no exception. I felt those whispers all day long. I’m so grateful for this. It’s a kindness from God to be reminded to savor the simple, routine things, and this time in our lives is one I really want to be able to see clearly when I look back. That’s not to say that every day is easy or without its share of hiccups, but I just think all of the time about how this life we’re living now could be the sweetest version of life we experience, and if that’s the case (or really, even if it isn’t), I want to appreciate it for all it’s worth. I don’t want to miss it.

Watching E and C at swim lessons today, the number of times I laughed at their antics or comments was plentiful. And the joy I found in watching them attempt and overcome new hurdles was such a good feeling–their pride in themselves just made my heart swell a bit. It’s so special to see them coming into their own in things, and especially to watch them face insecurities or challenges head on. Watching them interact with their swim teacher and each other gives me such a lightheartedness…they are genuinely having fun and learning together at the same time. It’s a sweet part of this summer that’s been meaningful to me.

Then, sitting with other moms while H enjoyed spending time with his friends at a party today was really lovely. I was thinking back to last summer, after a shortened year of school, and just how hard it was not to know other families from his class or to connect him to friends. Things were so different in the world a year ago, and I don’t think any of us knew exactly how to feel or be as humans desiring more interaction with others. What a gift today, to see other moms, but also to watch all of our boys enjoy each other’s company and just have fun together–it’s a sweet group of kids that I’m so thankful he has the privilege to journey alongside.

E also had a party today, and it was a similar grace in the day to see friends of ours and to send her off to enjoy time with other girls. We’re not very surrounded by families with girls her age, so to watch her connect with a friend she’s known for a few years now and to have the chance to celebrate and create together–it’s the stuff of a mama’s dreams. And to have her sweet friend run up to hug me and to feel a sense of being reunited…it’s all just such grace.

As I sent a message to a dear friend tonight, I included some photos from our time together with our kids earlier this week. Those pictures, where C is laying on a picnic blanket with his closest friend as they laugh unstoppably together, and where four of our kiddos are playing picnic with play food for a good bit of our visit–I can’t honestly even describe the layers of goodness in those images. A few hours in their backyard (or anywhere together!) has been a hopeful vision for us as mamas over this past year. These friends are like family to all of us, and we’ve longed for days when we could let the kids run around and play together again. Last May, when things with Covid felt scary and confusing and new, the world got scarier and harder for our friends as their eldest (C’s dearest) was diagnosed with Leukemia. This past year has been so filled with new challenges for all of them, and especially in the midst of all else going on. The number of times we’ve talked with our kiddos about “someday when we can all play together again” is too many to count, and suddenly, we’ve lived that moment we’ve hoped and prayed for for so long. While we know things will shift again come fall and seasons where the weather turns colder and germs abound, this week, in the fresh air and sunshine, God made a way. And He reminds us to savor it–every last bit of it, and to recognize these answered prayers right before our eyes. It’s all so rich with undeserved grace.

This evening before coming home from birthday party pick up, we stopped at Menards for a few things. Through most of the store and out into the parking lot and all the way to the car, E and C each held my hands, one on either side. As we wandered through the parking lot, I thought to myself, “Soon this is all going to change,” and the bittersweetness of that moment will stick with me for a long time. Right now I have hands for both of them, but someone will have to graduate soon as I use at least one hand to push a stroller or carry a carseat. Of course, I’ll still hold hands as much as they’ll let me, but my two hands will be a little less free to embrace these babies of ours, just as we’ve all been for the past (nearly) five years. I am so ready for this growth for us in ways, and I am probably mourning other things at the same time. If nothing else, the past few years have taught me a lot about holding joy and grief together, and while I won’t suggest that the new stage we’re entering brings grief with it, there is still loss while there’s great gain. The dichotomy of holding both at the same time stretches us in our humanity, I think. And I feel like it gives me a glimpse into God’s heart, as I imagine He is always navigating through all of our lives with ample doses of grief and joy.

I woke up this morning thinking about gratitude and wanting to be grateful, and here at the end of the day, I can see that God honored that intention in ways I couldn’t have planned. These days of waiting are hard, but what’s growing out of them is far better than wishing time away and trying to rush through to the next thing. The next thing will come, or at least we pray it will come as we hope. And meanwhile, the things right here in front of me are goodness and kindness and mercy that humble me and pause restlessness in my heart. The good life is the life we’re afforded today. Tomorrow isn’t a promise, and I never want to take it for granted. I pray that God will give me the nudging and direction I need to continue to appreciate and value what’s right before me every day.

MM

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Celebrating Freedom. (47)

It’s the Fourth of July and fireworks have been going off outside for the better part of two hours now. I love fireworks, and I also always think about how many veterans might be struggling tonight after serving and fighting for the freedom the rest of us are celebrating. It’s a strange and hard thing, the way freedom here cost so much at its inception and how it continues to cost more and more today.

I love seeing everyone’s patriotism on a day like today–so much red, white and blue in pictures everywhere, picnics and parties with family and friends and every possible and celebratory dessert creation you can imagine. The way we honor this holiday as a nation feels fully American and really wholesome, which is probably my favorite part about it. Somehow we do feel a bit more united on the 4th, whether or not the headlines tell a different story tomorrow or the next day or the next.

We’ve all be through such a tumultuous year and a half, and from so many different angles. Political unrest, politics in general, pandemic fears and realities, isolation, trauma for reasons not even related to a global pandemic but rather on top of it, relational challenges, racial tensions, job insecurities, remote learning and working and all the things, major needs for adaptation, completely new territory on a global scale…all of this taking its emotional, mental, physical, spiritual toll on every one of us, no matter how uniquely. To celebrate Independence Day today looks so much like it did before last year’s more subdued, more isolated version, but it feels different to me. It feels weightier. The price tag on freedom has changed, and so have we.

I don’t really want to get super philosophical here or anything wild at 11pm on a holiday, but I do just feel like sharing that this year’s 4th stirs up new things in me. I am amazed at how normal things feel (dare I say, are?) and yet how much I want to acknowledge the treacherous path we’ve all been on to get here. I think a lot of our freedoms were challenged this past year+, and I still think they’re being challenged today. My personal quest for understanding and truth have ebbed and flowed in the midst of it all–sometimes my personality has driven me to pursue information to a fault, and more often than not (and especially as time has gone on), I’ve needed to hang my hat on what my belief in Christ leads me to recognize as Truth alone. I’ve needed to block out the droning on of information and noise from every side, instead pressing in to the ONE place I can really count on to be life-giving and hopeful and truly freeing.

Freedom looks different to me this holiday because I think we’re all a little more seasoned; perhaps a little more skeptical or frustrated or curious about what’s true and what’s been true and whatever comes next. I’m still so grateful to live where we live and to belong to a nation that has pursued freedom creatively and innovatively for as long as it’s been a nation. And like many (or most?), I’m still grappling with the cost of freedom and wondering about the future of freedom, which seems to change more readily these days than any of us might like to admit. It’s good to be here, planted and hopeful for the future, and it’s also good to come to the end of this celebratory day acknowledging where our true freedom originates. I can picnic, set off fireworks and dress in red, white and blue to authentically represent my patriotism, and at the same time, I’m leaning hard on God for His guidance for the future of our nation and His protections over the freedoms we’ve come to know and enjoy simply by living here.

Here’s to true freedom–the kind that can never be take away, and to our day to day freedoms that have been hard fought and hard earned. May we never take them for granted!

MM