MollyMadonna.com

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Take Me Out to the Ballgame. (59)

It’s been a week filled with baseball here, and I can’t say as I mind. H’s team has played two games so far in their post season tournament, with one to go on Thursday. I can tell that he’s a little weary (an afternoon camp each day directly followed by baseball games each night feels a bit like a throwback to when school was still in session), but it’s still so cool to watch his team gel as the season winds down. As with anything in life, there’s much to learn when you’re 9/10/11 years old and that ball is coming at you fast over the mound. After a pitch to the helmet last week, H took one to the shoulder tonight. I’ve been so amazed at how composed he’s been when injured…it’s crazy to watch him mature so much before our eyes. I’m proud of his sportsmanship and the way he encourages and celebrates his teammates. That feels as much like a win as anything at this stage of parenting and life.

H’s team has had its fair share of victories and losses this year, and each time, they’ve weathered the roller coaster of either experience. As I reflect back on their season, I think about how life is so much like baseball and I hear my dad reminding us from an early age, “It’s not whether you win or lose; it’s how you play the game.” Isn’t that the truth? We don’t always have control over whether we win or lose. Life isn’t always fair, sometimes bad calls are made, sometimes we give it our all and the other team is genuinely stronger. Sometimes we get lucky, or we’re on our A game, or it feels like the stars have aligned in our favor. However the case may be, the attitude we take into any situation impacts our course. I probably don’t need to tell you that, but I’m reminding myself.

When I think about how this applies to my life these days, it’s obvious in a few main areas. Naturally I feel the weight of this in parenting most, when everyone’s moods are subject to change on a dime and I still need try to be steady and rational for all (even though I’ll admit I’m not always channeling rational). But how do I play the game? Do I fight with a kiddo pushing back at everything? Do I find a way to be firm and calm, but hold my ground? Do I let something go because I’m too tired to address it? All plausible, though I try to land on the second option as much as possible. These days with everyone home are great exercise in this category. Sanctification through parenting is the real deal, isn’t it?!

And then there’s pregnancy and all the hills and valleys that can come with it. Keeping my chin up on the hard days is harder fought this time around, but I also still hang my hat on loving this process and marveling at the miracle that it is every single day. I can say with assurance that as I set my mind on baby’s someday labor and delivery, my attitude and intention beforehand will chart the course in a lot of ways. Positivity and prayer and regular affirmations will be game changers, regardless of the circumstances.

I hope I’ll always attempt to play fair and give it my all in each aspect of living, though I know my best isn’t perfect and that I have bad days, too. When I think about H or any of his teammates out in the field or at bat–determination and grit in their expressions and hope ahead of them each new inning–it doesn’t take but a moment to remember why I love the sport so much or why I think it matters to learn to be a part of a team. I’m also reminded that every at bat–each new day–is a fresh opportunity to hang in there, to get the hit, to run with determination or to knock it out of the park. Of course there’s a chance we strike out here and there, but we step up to the plate with a clean slate and new possibilities every time. I hope more than anything, this season of baseball has taught perseverance and the joy of being surrounded by others. It sure is a good way to go through life–with a little breeze at your back and a team to cheer you on!

Batter up!

MM

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Out of Hiding. (61)

I’ve been thinking a bit today about what holds me back from experiencing the fullest joy that God has to offer, and I know it comes down to holding onto fear. It’s so sneaky, how this happens. I don’t mean to do it or even want to do it, but the voice in the back of my mind that whispers lies is regular enough that I sometimes forget it’s there. It’s familiar enough that lies sounds like normal thoughts, and if I’m not paying close enough attention, I miss them.

This is all of us, and so human. I don’t know anyone who never hears a lie in the back of their mind. The enemy is sneaky like that–robbing us of joy without us even noticing. How often do we let ourselves sit in the untruths that the enemy would have us believe? The thing is, this is a totally uncreative tactic. But it works, and so long as it’s effective, it’s a tool that we’ll keep encountering. This could be so discouraging, but I think it’s empowering in a way, too. When we figure out how to quiet the lies, the truth gets louder and bolder in our lives. Pushing back the darkness always makes room for more light.

So what lies do I mistake as truth sometimes these days, at least until I recognize them for what they are and shut them down? Probably the same kind of lies you hear sometimes, too. “That’s not good enough.” “You could do better/try harder/achieve more.” “If only you were _______.” “If you don’t get this right, then ________ consequence is sure to happen.” The list goes on. The sneakier lies bring God into the equation, sometimes threatening my inheritance with Him in my mind. “You’ve sinned, so _______.” “God will be so disappointed if______.” “Maybe God is punishing you because of ______.”

Yes, but NO. None of the above are true. They just aren’t. God isn’t mean, and He’s not poor. He doesn’t condemn us–He loves us as His children. His love is perfect, so He can’t condemn. He ONLY has more love for us, even if we feel it sometimes in the form of a consequence or conviction or weighty Truth, and even if that seems inconvenient. God always has His best for us. He sees us and calls us GOOD. And we can’t be enough because we could never be enough, which is why God loved us so much as to sacrifice Jesus to bridge the gap on our behalf. All of the lies we could ever tell ourselves or take on as truth can be tossed by the wayside because the enemy has ZERO authority in our lives.

Whew. I did not expect to get so passionate here tonight. But the reason I am is because I frequently experience the enemy trying to rob me or those I love of the joy that is offered to us through Christ, and I’m calling it all out on the carpet.

When I worry about the life of this baby in my belly? When fear creeps up in places I didn’t know it was lurking? NOT TODAY, Satan. I’m draging this all out of the dark because the enemy’s lies can’t hide in the light. And I’m tired of watching a weary world battle itself because of the lies we’ve been told and the lies we believe.

This baby God’s growing in me? He or she will have the exact number of days in their life that God has decided. I have zero control over that. So do I need to worry about it? No. Do I anyway? Yes. Can I ask God to take this worrying thought from me and relieve me of the burden of it? Absolutely.

Troubles we encounter with our kids. Do I need to worry about how they’ll turn out or if we’re making mistakes daily as parents or whether they’ll all be OK as adults in this mixed up world? No. Do I anyway? Naturally. Does God see my children and love them even more than I do? 100%. So can I depend on Him to have their best interest at heart? You bet.

Family dynamics. Are they sometimes more complicated than I’d like? Yes. Does this always mean I’ve done something wrong or need to carry the burden of other people’s choices or words or actions? Nope. Can I give this area of my life to God and watch Him work in my heart and the hearts of others? No doubt.

Marriage. Finances. Faith questions. Mental health. Physical health. The future. Does any one of us have all of this figured out? Definitely not. Does the enemy love to prowl around these issues and whisper lies that would drag us down or hold us back or reduce the freedom we’re meant to live in with Christ? Of course he does. Is God bigger, more powerful, all knowing, completely capable and loving beyond our wildest hopes or imaginations? All day, every day. And is He going to stop being who He says He is anytime soon? Never.

I don’t know about you, but I’ve kind of had it with the voice in my head that lies. I don’t tolerate lying in our home, so why would I tolerate it in my mind? Yes it’s a battle–a hard fought battle for all of us and an even harder fought battle for some. But we have the tools at our fingertips if we want them…prayer, the Word, worship, community, accountability. And if any of these is lacking, we can ask God for His help as we look to find it. He is a God who hears and a Father who answers. I’m so eager for more and more of His voice, and for less and less of anything else. Fear is a liar, and I’m hungry for deeper and greater and even more resilient joy.

Can we be the type of people who live lives of love in such a way that we drown out fear? The type of believers who live out joy because it’s in the fiber of our being? The army waging war against an enemy who is weak, because we’re confident in what is true and because we serve a God who is so much more? I sure hope we can. God, where I am today, in my sphere of influence, please let it be so.

MM

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Distractions and Brotherly Love. (62)

I sat down to write nearly an hour ago, but distractions abound in the house on a Saturday night, when siblings are attempting a sleepover and any manner of mice, spiders or splinters might pose a threat to those sleeping on the floor. (Just to clarify, the floor is carpeted, not wood.) Then there’s the slippery slope of compelling Instagram stories, replete with pictures of cute babies and every advertisement possibly targeted at an expectant mama in her third trimester…all gain my attention so much more easily than they would at a more alert and purposed time of day. But here we are, documenting day 38(?) in this 100 day countdown, and the truth of the matter is, I’m a little extra physically spent today and my mind is wandering to so many places.

We mostly stayed home today, which was lovely even on the heels of a homebound week. E and I ventured to the farmer’s market this morning, followed by a visit to one of our favorite shops downtown. I enjoyed using part of a birthday gift to purchase a few new plants for the baby’s room and E enjoyed carrying her rainbow-y bouquet of flowers and a bag of macarons through the market. The intermittent sprinkle of rain and the cloudy, cool morning made for the perfect day to casually wander for a bit before heading home to the boys (and the Matchbox cars and Legos and IKEA furniture building party that evolved into the afternoon). We’re making progress on various things here at home in prep for baby, and all things are one step at a time. The boys’ new room has two of everything, naturally, so J is exercising extreme patience in building two desks, two nightstands, two beds, etc. to get ready for the boys’ transition down the hall. In a good deal of discomfort today, my contribution was presence and moral support (plus being a human incubator, which is worth far more, I suppose). It’s so fun to see things coming together and I’m excited for the boys’ new space. I think it’ll be a great refresh for everyone, and besides, it’ll mean the crib goes up again soon. When we put it away the last time, I wondered whether it was reasonable to keep it here, taking up space. You can bet I’m so thankful that we kept it, and all the more thankful that it’s coming back out of storage once more.

Rainy Saturdays are good for inside projects, and I’m grateful that we could tackle a few today. When these summer weekends hit, it feels hard to balance inside and outside time, so I kind of like it when the weather tells us what to do. Tonight was family movie night and snack-y dinner, and it’s a tradition we all love well. Easy food prep for me, lots of options for everyone’s plates and a low key time of entertainment for our whole crew. A favorite aspect of movie night for me is the moment when C finishes his dinner and comes to find a spot with me on the couch. I love how we’ve figured out a way to curl him just so in my lap around the baby, or to make a nest for him right close so that we’re not missing out on the chance for a snuggle despite of my ever-growing belly. When he’s near, there are always a handful of sweet moments where he feels baby move, gives extra hugs or talks to baby quietly. I can sense his endearment to this little one growing, and I know that he’ll be a doting and protective big brother just as soon as he’s able. He told me tonight that he wished he could just hug the baby forever. That’s so good for a mama’s heart, even if the comment or moment is fleeting.

All in all, today was a good day and this weekend is a much needed weekend. We’re all in recovery mode from a long week, and having low key time together is highly valued and restorative. A few fresh plants and flowers in the house perk things up even more, and the sun coming out after the rain today was a lovely shift in the day. I can feel things slowing down for me a little, even as I want to be able to speed myself up in ways. This exercise of learning stillness continues in my daily walk, and I’m grateful that God pursues me in it in ways I can’t ignore. He is faithful to see us through to where He wants us to go.

I’m re-learning what it is to juggle a few new additions to my plate lately, and baby will be along before we know it, so it’s good that my pace is a forced slowness with a lot of intentionality required. Another pruning season for me, to be sure.

Distracted or otherwise, I’m still here, coming along.

MM

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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