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A Seat at the Table. (63)

“When you arrive, there will be a place for you here.”

Isn’t that something we all crave? To know that we belong, that others have made room for us, that we’re welcome?

I joined a gathering of women last night at church, and that’s exactly what it felt like to walk into the room…there was a place for each one of us. A space where everyone was welcome, and when the room filled to overflowing, more chairs brought out in a hurry to make sure all in attendance could find a seat. This didn’t require a red carpet or lavish decoration. It didn’t call for fancy tables of desserts or servers bringing appetizers around on tiny napkins. All it took was an invitation, some intentionality and a few smiling faces at the door.

Just like the invitation we receive before communion, “Come, for all things are ready,” a table had been prepared and there was a place around it for everyone.

Invitation and welcome feel rarer and rarer these days, when the trajectory of things should be the opposite. In a world where tolerance and acceptance are preached loudly from every rooftop and corner, true invitation feels somehow out of date. The world is begging for recognition, for justice, for equality, but things feel more divisive than ever. We can’t ask to be included and wholly set apart at the same time. It’s confusing, and I don’t think it works.

What I know actually works is when we set down pride, pretense, superiority, labels and we pick up Jesus. Not a watered down version of Jesus the way that works most easily for us, but real, honest, justice-seeking, table-turning, prayerful, boundary-setting, truth-proclaiming, rest-seeking, grace-offering Jesus. And the only way to do that is to put aside agendas and expectations, and to walk into a room open to what God might do–both in us and through others. Last night was an example of this, and it was just about the most refreshing thing I could imagine.

Never mind that it’s been more than a year since we gathered in the same way, without masks covering our faces, without fear standing in the way of hugs, handshakes, conversations shared at close range. That was a huge and beautiful part about this gathering, for sure. But it was so much more than that. It was college-aged women learning from near-centenarians and grandmotherly types gleaning truth from women half their age. It was laughter and tears with brand new faces and friends reunited after so, so long. It was God being invited into a space and generations worshipping Him together and stories being told that linger long after everyone’s headed home. This? This is what’s possible when we extend an invitation with intention and no pretense. And this is what the Body really looks like in a broken world in desperate need of acceptance, belonging and Truth.

When I think about the world our baby is coming into, I could fear so many things. There’s enough heartache and evil to scare anyone away from ever wanting to become a parent at all. But God. And invitation. And the hope and expectation that God will move as He does and make room as He does, and that this child’s life will be filled with purpose, “For such a time as this.”

Oh, little one. I want you to always, always know that when you arrive, there will be a place for you here. You already have a seat at our table. We are making space for you in physical ways, yes, but God is making a place for you in every other sense, too. I believe it with every fiber of who I am, and I trust Him in all that He says He will do. That’s how I know. I know that I know that I know there is a place being prepared for you in a way that I can’t achieve with the perfect nursery or the most beautiful bassinet. This place of yours is being laid forth by the Creator of the Universe, and as the days draw nearer to your arrival, I sense the quickening of His preparations for you.

We all need a place at the table. We all need to belong. And you, Honeybee, you belong in every sense of the word. Your life is already making a difference here. I can’t wait for you to discover exactly how.

May we all experience the love and acceptance we so crave as we seek to find room for ourselves at the table.

MM

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Today in Headlines. (65)

For whatever reason, I kept hearing our life in newspaper format as the day went by today. If we were interesting enough to make the paper, I think the front page headlines tomorrow morning would read something like this:

“Wonderful Wednesday Postponed: Family Plans to Resume Original Schedule Next Week”

“Local Family Maxes Out Library Card in Record Haul”

“Tonight’s Menu Shifted to Friday as Local Pizza Establishment Pinch Hits for Dinner”

“Baby Jogger City Mini Deemed Safe and Effective for Use with Children Five and Under”

“Pom Pom and Paper Plate Crafts Entertain Youngsters for Hours”

“Screen Time Limits Removed Until Center for Sane Parents Determines New Guidelines”

“Health Forecast Predicts Overcast Skies for One More Day, Sunnier Outlook Expected Friday”

“Expectant Mom of Three Grateful for Cooler Temps and Gearing Up for 90º Days Ahead”

“Despite All Efforts, Dishes Still Piling Up in Sink Daily”

“Full Pantry Doesn’t Meet Expectations of Students in Grades Two through Five”

“100 Days Posts Getting Trickier for Local Mom: Headlines from Here on Out”

Kidding. Kind of. 35 posts in…1/3 of the way, and my creativity is waning at times. But as I explained to E the other day, to not document these days hardly seems fair after doing so for all of our other babies. And besides, I do so love having a record of these seasons (regardless of whether every day brings a legit blog post or I defer to haikus or headlines to bridge the gap and allow me an earlier bedtime). Both documentation and sleep are important at this stage.

If we did have a newspaper, I think we’d have to call it something really creative to gain readership. I’ll work on that. 😉

Signing off for tonight,

MM

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Cozy at home. (66)

After a good bit of this past year spent at home, it’s funny how there are days now when time at home is all I crave. I knew that I’d miss the season of always being home, but just like when you don’t anticipate that it’ll be the last time your baby sleeps in a crib or the last time you change a toddler diaper, that season ended more quickly than I thought it might. When something good is suddenly over, it’s hard not to miss it.

The grass is always greener though, right? This week we’ve had a few days so far of needing to stay home, and now I’m itching to get out to places like the library, the park, and anywhere that means we’re getting sunshine. We took a walk around the block today and it was beautiful–the temperature was perfect. But one cruise around our neighborhood and back to the house was what we had the capacity for, and as soon as we were home I wanted more. Am I crazy to feel this way? Some days this parenting gig feels like we’re just doing our best to bide the time until the next thing, and then the next. I never want to wish away time or days, but there are just certain spaces where the hours tick by so slowly, and everyone is feeling the weight or boredom or monotony of the day. When the kids are young, it feels a bit like mom is supposed to fix that.

The tricks up my sleeve for indoor activities are limited these days…read alouds, puzzles, art projects, board games, Legos, pretend play with a sibling. If we’re inside at home, I just want to tackle things on my to do list and have a hard time seeing the same kind of fun in what the kids want to do. Fun to this pragmatic mama is having bedrooms picked up, laundry done and the kitchen clean. The kids love that that’s my take on life. Ha! And I’m trying not to default to being a bore this summer, but I’m not sure I’m off to a great start.

The excitement around here today peaked around 9am when a new couch was delivered for the living room. The delivery guys had it in the house, unwrapped, legs on and the couch in its place in no more than 5 minutes. The kids thought this was pretty amazing, and then everyone took turns trying it out and snuggling up to read on it for just about the rest of the day. I’m grateful for a diversion like that on a day when at least 2/3 of our crew is looking for something to do.

I’m truly glad we’re a cozy-at-home kind of family who generally likes being together and in the same space. I’m also glad that these summer days of not having much flexibility to head out on adventures won’t be every day–hopefully only some here and there. I’m keenly aware that there are things we’d all like to do before I’m walking around in that “late third-trimester” kind of way and counting down days instead of whole weeks to baby. Then, I’ll probably be very happy to sit tight on the couch and the kids will be itching to get up and go, just as I was today. If these next few weeks or months find a happy medium, with a rhythm of rest and adventure, I know we’ll all be glad and better for it. I do so love having all of the kiddos home in one place together, even if it means some boredom challenges along the way.

Here’s to summer days that find balance and keep us all moving forward at a pace we can embrace,

MM

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So You Had a Bad Day. (68)

Some days we wake up and things just don’t start out as hoped, right? Maybe the alarm goes off and we hit snooze one too many times, maybe we’re just slow moving that morning and get a little behind, maybe we never remembered to set the alarm at all. Or it could be that the kids are already awake and needing a little bit of everything, that the schedule ahead is long and daunting, or that someone was sick in the night and no one got much sleep. However the case may be, it’s hard to begin on a bad note, and that’s fair. Especially on days when we’re looking forward to something, a bad start or a rough night has a way of turning the tables that just doesn’t feel very good.

I always hate to let a bad start run the whole day, but sometimes it’s hard to right the ship in a hurry. The kids and I have made a practice of “starting over” when a day gets off on the wrong foot. As much as I hate to admit it, if it’s me who’s in a tizzy, it’s really hard to ask everyone if we can start again–but it’s worth it. Starting over usually requires some apologies and forgiveness. Great muscles for us to exercise, and hard ones to use when the whole gang is already cranky. Bless our kids, they’re as forgiving as we all should be (almost always). In a matter of moments we’re beginning again, and somehow that feels like permission to shake off our grumbling, move past our offense(s) and even laugh with each other. It usually takes away the sting of things for all involved.

Other bad days are hard to remedy for reasons beyond our control; no starting over will mend them in the moment. When I’m in the midst of a day I can’t right, I’m not always in a space to feel glass-half-full or to see where things will go on the other side. I’m sure this is natural, but still hard. So what’s best? For me, here’s a dozen avenues that often help:

  1. Playing worship music. I might not be in the mood, but this takes little investment on my part. Just having it on, the words of familiar songs creep in to my heart and mind. Either they end up encouraging me, they help me to feel understood because their lyrics are lamenting in nature, or my mood lifts because I can’t help but sing (or maybe cry, depending on the circumstance?) along with them. When I’m not in a space to go to God in clear-thinking prayer, the act of worship nudges me forward until I can get there.
  2. Connecting with a friend or a compassionate soul in my life. Sometimes this means I send a text message asking for prayer. Sometimes it’s recording a Polo message for a friend to listen to later. Often, it’s a phone call so that I can safely set the weight of my worries down with a heart that’s willing to listen. I never want to put my burdens on someone else, but the people closest to us don’t usually find our burdens to be burdensome. The peace of knowing someone else will pray or that they understand my heart is often enough to get me over the hurdle.
  3. Finding a place to be alone. This is easier said than done and doesn’t happen often, but my family knows that if I’ve retreated to my office, I’m probably in need of a little space–and they generally respect that. Sometimes I pick up a book or shed tears that need to fall. Other times, I just sit in the quiet. It’s in those moments that I’m better able to ask God for help, which always changes the game for the hours that follow.
  4. Snuggling my kiddos. This is certainly not always the answer, but a hug or just sitting with another person for a while can do us all a bit of good. The physical presence of someone else can be just the thing when there aren’t words or actions that can otherwise mend an ache. As our family gets older, I feel like we all resort to this in times of pain or sadness, and it’s comforting and good.
  5. Buying fresh flowers. This is a game changer for me. If I have the time, I drive to my favorite flower shop and spend ten minutes in the cooler picking out blooms that speak to my personality/mood. There’s always something new there that can lift me out of a haze or funk, plus the benefit of having the bouquet around for the next days or weeks is so tangible.
  6. Getting my hands in dirt. Planting, pruning, watering, repotting or sometimes even weeding is replenishing for my soul. Making something more beautiful is always a good avenue to lift my spirits. I get a little teasing sometimes for the number of plants in our home, but they all have a different way of reminding or encouraging me of something. So good.
  7. Fixing or ordering food that nourishes or feels comforting. Sometimes that’s a pot of soup. In the summertime, it’s probably a smoothie or salad. I defer to go-to things that I don’t have to think twice about to make, and often, to recipes that have long been prepared for me by family over the years. I don’t love to bake, but occasionally, making a treat to share with the rest of the household is a pick-me-up, too.
  8. Journaling. My habit of doing this has faltered over the years, but when I put pen to paper and dump my thoughts, I almost always feel better. Going back to read what I’ve written helps me to process, or to put my finger on the thing that most needs attention or healing.
  9. Praying. This one can be hard if I’m in a rough place, but it can also be the most comforting thing. In times of stress, my prayers might be crazy long or super short. Still, giving things over to God and trying my best to offer gratitude is always lifting. Even just knowing that I uttered a request for help to the One who can help me most is sometimes the lightness that I need to set a hard thing down for a moment. Being reminded of my smallness in light of His power and compassion never has a bad impact, either.
  10. Getting outside. Sunshine and fresh air are almost always helpful. While I don’t often feel as motivated to get out when it’s chilly or raining, even a few minutes can change my tune if I just step outdoors. Barefoot when possible for grounding benefits, and certainly if the kids are having a hard time, too. “Everybody out,” is a policy that has served us well again and again.
  11. Watching a tried and true show that I know will make me laugh, or picking up a book that will allow me to bury my thoughts in someone else’s story. Every once in a while I just need to stop ruminating on my own reality and be distracted by someone else’s. I don’t ever want this to become an escapist-type habit, but there’s a reason we all appreciate a good comedy or storyline.
  12. Heading to bed early. This is a foolproof way to end a bad day, right? Sometimes you just have to call it and start again in the morning. The extra sleep never hurts, and some distance from the challenges of the day is not a bad remedy either.

I don’t doubt that we all have ways of moving ourselves forward when the going gets rough, and maybe many overlap as human coping mechanisms for us all. It’s just really good to know what ours are, isn’t it? And to understand why or when they help, too? Then when we can’t see the forest through the trees, we have some handholds that light the way for a bit until the bigger picture comes into view again.

If you’ve had a bad day, I hope tomorrow will be brighter. Today has been a bit of a rough one here, and I’m looking forward to starting again in the morning. XO,

MM

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Thirty Weeks and Learning to Count. (71/70)

Today’s the day–thirty weeks and three quarters of the way through growing this babe and I can hardly believe it! This is a milestone I’ve had on my heart and mind for a very long time. The reassurance each day that our little one has had 24 hours more to grow and develop feels so significant. One step closer.

On the heels of a very full week, this day felt as much like a recuperation day as we could make it. It was sweet to watch my belly roll back and forth and bump at every turn as I sat outside watching J and the kids play in the water this afternoon. It was fun taking H out for dinner before his baseball game tonight, just mom and dad and our oldest celebrating the end of a school year with Friday night fare and ice cream. It was beautiful to sit with E and watercolor earlier in the day, just because. And it was cozy to have our littlest snuggle up to me this morning and throughout the day, always making sure to pay attention to the baby when he did. There are a lot of moving parts in our household as a family of 5.75, but sometimes the slow, “evolve on their own” pace of days bring out the best in us. While J and I both had meetings throughout the morning, our crew weathered the “musts” and made our way to the beginning of the weekend with great joy. To be entering into a few days without a set agenda is just so right and timely for our household. This time of year really is my favorite.

Outside of celebrating thirty weeks and rejoicing in all things summer, there’s not much else to report tonight. Just one other minor detail, I guess, and that’s that I can’t seem to count (or at least, I couldn’t when I calculated 100 days here at the beginning). Turns out that today is actually 70 days from my due date (!), which means we’re even a tad closer to the finish line than I thought. Instead of tacking on an extra day of this exercise, I’ve decided to mark the thirty week point with a victory lap and count today as a combo entry. So, little one, when you read this someday, know that I’m fully vested in recording this time for you, but…tonight, your mama is very excited about rolling two days worth of love for you together into one. Ten more weeks, give or take. We can do all things with God leading the way, kiddo!

MM