MollyMadonna.com

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thoughts from a mama on a monday morning.

Hello, Monday. I’m sorry to say it, but we’ve not been the best of friends as of late. It isn’t you. It’s me. I just so love the weekend and hate to see it end. Time together as a family, Summer adventures in the beautiful weather, friendships, celebrations…they all seem to quiet down and settle into the week when you arrive. Honestly, you kind of get the raw end of the deal, coming right after Sunday and all. Not your fault, but a bummer. That being said, I’m trying to make my peace with you. There’s something about the hush of Monday morning that isn’t terrible at all, especially if I put in a little extra effort to appreciate it. Today is one of those days.

Getting ready for the day, my mind raced with things I wanted to remember from the weekend, this morning, life in general. And then there was the list of “todos” and “I should really…s” and all the other jazz that comes after taking a mental hiatus for a few days while I’ve been milking the marrow out of life. You’re good for that, Monday, and I should really give you more credit. For clearing the space enough that I can think through all of these things, that is. I have a lot on my mind, and in my head, it sounds like this:

-I really wanted to go the gym this morning, but I will make my peace with a sleepy tired boy and his impromptu nap time, instead. He’s extra tired because we had such a busy and beautiful weekend, and that’s a good thing…

-Actually, maybe I’m glad to have this time to think and not be rushing around. It really was a lovely weekend. Of course, I’ll have to find a time later to make up the workout, but perhaps staying home and letting the little one get rest was the better choice. I’ll never know. I should blog. Squirrel!…

-I don’t think I draw enough of the miraculous from my days when I hurry. I’m certain I don’t. Good thing it’s Monday…pace is slower, and it gives me room to process all that is good. I just peeked through the keyhole of the nursery door in time to catch H as he nodded off, his hand, drooping away from his face, his little eyes slipping shut ever-so-peacefully. I sure do love being his mama. I could have missed this this morning. What was I thinking?…

-Ok. So I’ll finish getting ready, head downstairs. Blog. Clean up the few dishes in the sink from breakfast. Vacuum? Maybe later. Do I have emails to send? I’m sure I do, and I’m probably forgetting a few. Thank you notes? Always. Maybe I should write a couple before this nap time gets away from me…

-I’m hearing myself in my head, and I sure do say, “I should…” an awful lot. I do, and probably every other mother on the planet. Who’s with me? And why do we do this to ourselves? Aren’t we instructed to take time to rest and reflect? Will I be any good in the rest of it if I don’t? This past minute or so of thinking has been helpful. Blogging it is, then. And after that, we’ll see about the dishes…

-Oh, but yesterday was just truly so lovely. There’s nothing much better than watching my boys (big and little) interact and have fun together. We all let our hair down a little. We do what actually matters. We love better. We love well. How cool is it that H and J got in a kayak together yesterday, and we all paddled on down the lake as a family?! H’s first kayak experience, and a red letter moment for J. I love that. Not to mention those perfect clouds and the blue, blue sky behind them, the sun glistening off the water, the duck swimming by. Really? Does it get much better than that? Nope. Decidedly, nope…

-But then back to the “I shoulds.” And you know what, I think “I should” and I should take a break from each other. And there I go again. What I mean is, I think we WILL take a break from one another. There. That’s better. This week, I’m going to practice intention and direction. Purposeful acting for the sake of my family, my household, my relationships, and myself. No “I should’s,” but instead, “I will’s,” and “I am’s,” and “I choose to’s.” I think that will help…

-A girl just rode past the house on a bicycle, texting as she went. Does this constitute texting and driving? She did not look safe. She looked silly. I have become such a mom. Oh, Monday. Do you see what you do to me?

Really, I should thank you. In a way, this low key, change of plans Monday morning is exactly what I needed. Me, at my computer with a cup of tea, and you, making space for me to do so when I least expected it. It’s possible that we could be friends, and perhaps, we should. Of course by should, I mean…I’m going to give it my best shot.

to the start of the week. let’s make it a good one!

mm

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let them eat cake.

Just rifling through the 1,000 photos we’ve gathered from H’s birthday bash and I came across this one. I hadn’t noticed it til now, but I love everything about it. The babe, the cake, the babe covered in cake. His sweet little hands smooshing extra bits of sugary goodness all over his face. The hand of a little friend, reaching in for a taste:

This is what 1st birthday parties are made of. Well, this and a whole bunch of other stuff. Stuff forthcoming…

so glad i wasn’t in charge of the bath that day (thanks, mom!),

mm

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one!!!

Well, Hanker Tanker, it is finally here. Your big day arrived this morning with the sunshine and a sleepy little you peeking up at us from your crib. You are officially one, and with that, no longer creeping towards the monumental day we’ve all made it out to be. Do you feel any differently today than yesterday? I kind of hope that you feel exactly the same–simply well-loved and cozy and safe and adored.

I do hope that you felt celebrated today, even though the big event in honor of this milestone won’t be here for a few more days. Then, I’ll be so tickled to watch as you take delight in all of the kiddos running around the house, the decorations here and there, the sugary sweet cake set before you for all kinds of smashing and eating up. I know you’re not going to remember it later, but we will all be celebrating YOU. Beyond that, we’ll be honoring a most remarkable year–the way that you’ve changed all of our hearts and how it’s truly taken a village to raise you since day one. Sure, dad and I have done a lot of the heavy lifting ;), but the people who are coming (traveling, even) to see you on Saturday have all been a hugely important part of your life and who you’re becoming. We are SO grateful, we couldn’t even describe it if we tried.

Today on Facebook (is it still around as you read this, however many years later?), nearly 100 people took the time to tell your daddy and I that you are loved, and to wish you a happy birthday or to add their cheer to the day. You have only been on this earth for 12 months, HD, but you are so, so, so, so loved. I think about that and I look at today and I am just blown away. If people love you that much, and we as your parents love you even more, then how incredibly much must God love you!?! I know that today brings Him great delight, as it does me–to see you thriving and joyful and healthy and growing so beautifully before our eyes.

I want you to know that when I sat down to write to you tonight, I knew it would never be possible to articulate all that I want to say to you about this past year–especially in one blog entry. Suffice it to say that I am overwhelmed by all that you add to my world. Hopefully, if you look back on the past year of my entries to you, you’ll know a little something about just what an impact you’ve had on me. I think sometimes we underestimate the power of a young person, but I would have to be crazy to deny the ways that God has used you to change the world in one year’s time. I would grasp every moment all over again if I could.

Henry, to date you are a resilient, determined, peaceful, friendly, intuitive, sensitive, social, careful-but-adventurous, worshipful, cuddly, radiant, gentle, and inquisitive little being. You are learning at lightening speed (which is normal for your age, but still captivates me all the time:). You have a soft and good heart. You electrify a room. You are magnetic wherever we go.

And as far as other things go? Your third tooth made its appearance yesterday–the top middle left of the bunch, and just a tiny, glimmering white sliver, but it’s there. no matter that you only have two whole teeth at your disposal at mealtimes; you eat everything we give you as if you haven’t seen food in a week. (Don’t worry, you’ve never missed a meal;) You are still crawling speedily wherever you want to go, or cruising at a scary pace along all furniture, walls, doors, and the like. You aren’t quite ready to walk yet, but so close! Another few weeks, and you’ll be terribly hard to catch, I’m certain. You love to drop things and see what happens. You chase after the dog with reckless abandon (he runs away for now, but I’m sure that will change.) You almost always have a matchbox car or something with wheels in your hand. You still LOVE to read more than most other activities, which brings me joy. Your introspection is curious at this age, and I watch you closely to try and determine what’s going on as you process (no luck yet, but it’s still fun). You like your sleep, but you also embrace the day. You get excited about the words “car,” “milk,” “Kruger,” “Daddy,” “Mommy,” “hungry,” and “go,” among others. But if I’m being totally honest, “car” probably outweighs the rest 10:1. You are a boy after your daddy’s heart.

As your mama, I am so humbled to watch you as you grow, realizing on a regular basis that I am responsible for you, what you learn, how you begin to understand the world. It’s no small task, and one I do not take the least bit lightly. You are just as much a gift as you are a responsibility, and I rarely ever mind to meet your needs. You have taught me a lifetime about self-sacrifice and joyful servanthood. How can I ever thank you enough?

So, Little Man-er, this is really it. The start of your second year and a landmark anniversary of the very best day of our lives. I love you an indescribable amount. The Lord bless you and keep you, Henry David. The Lord lift his countenance upon you. The Lord make his face to shine upon you and give you peace, precious one. Happy, Happy Birthday!

all the love in the world,

your mama

 

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pure (perfect) michigan.

I had to remind myself all day that it was March 21st. This weather has been unbelievable, and I’m fairly certain we’ll all be pinching ourselves again tomorrow when the temps reach 80 degrees effortlessly. How is it possible that we ventured out the beach tonight wearing summer clothes and worrying nothing about coats or blankets at sunset? Even after the punchy, pink globe dipped down below the horizon, we were hardly chilly in shorts and sandals. I don’t understand our good fortune, but I am embracing this amazing foretaste of Summer while it lasts. As we know, I’m not the biggest fan of the winter months, and this has been the most perfect “Molly” Winter in Michigan that I can remember. It’s the first day of Spring, and there was nary an umbrella or rain coat (or snow pile!) in sight.

Not only did we enjoy the sand between our toes and a gorgeous artistic display in the sky, but we ran into dear friends and laughed /played/snapped photos until the beach was all but dark. It was the perfect cap on the day–God’s handwriting all over every bit!

Today was absolutely, 100% pure Michigan. It was fancy and sunny and warm-breezey and I LOVED it!

A few (ok, my favorite) snapshots from the evening:

Nothing could make me happier: Henry discovering the delight of sand, the sun settling down over the lake, and running into people we love on an impromptu beach night. DELIGHTFUL!

blissfully sandy,

mm

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and my burden, light.

This is not the first time I’ve come to the blog at the end of the day and found this verse on my mind: “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” Mt. 11:28-30

After two emotionally challenging days, I need to be reminded. Not just for my own sake, though. There is comfort in knowing that this verse applies for anyone who will embrace it–dear friends, family, and strangers alike.

Come to me. A perfectly simple invitation. Come. Bring yourself. Bring the junk from your day, the mess you’ve made or the mess you’re in. Bring the hurts and the triumphs, the hard stuff, the stuff you can’t handle on your own. Just come.

All you who are weary and burdened. This is an all inclusive gig. No one gets left out here. Are you exhausted of something? Are you weary from the everyday, the routine, the rhythm? Or maybe the non-ordinary, super hard stuff? Can’t get something or someone off your mind or heart? Feel a bent towards righting an injustice or helping a complete stranger? Then this means you.

And I will give you rest. “I will,” Christ promises. Perhaps not eight hours of solid sleep or a king-sized bed, but real, valuable rest. Your spirit will be refreshed. You won’t run out of steam and have to give up. His grace will be sufficient for you. You heart will be well again. You will always have what you need, when you need it.

Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart. Christ will be careful with you. Pursuing Him and leaning on Him will make anything easier–if you’ll let it. He will teach you how to focus on what he has shown you, training you to become more and more like Himself in the process.

And you will find rest for your souls. No, really. This is so important it’s stated twice. No one gets to be the energizer bunny without sufficient rest. When you lean into God, He gives you strength for the next step. And then the next. And the next. You don’t have to know how things will turn out in the end, because God already has you covered. He has written and is writing your story as you sit at your computer/read your phone this very minute.

For my yoke is easy and my burden is light. Pursuing me, following my promptings, resting in my promises for your life, and opening up your hand to me to release your troubles into my care–these are all ways to experience my peace. Ask me for what you need. Share your heartache. Pray over and over again. Praise me in advance for what you’re trusting I will do. Go confidently in the direction I lead you. Leave your burdens with me, at the cross.

I am so thankful tonight for these promises from God, and for friends and family who become the Body of Christ around us when we need to be loved, reassured, prayed for, hugged tightly and encouraged in just the right moment. Things don’t always feel ok, or fair, or comprehensible. And we don’t get to have all of the answers, as much as we may want them. But we do know this: when we are weary or burdened and we ask for help, God will give us rest.

may it be so,

mm