Being a Warrior in My Own Home

Let’s be honest, most of my days are filled with cleaning dishes, entertaining a whiny toddler and putting things back in their places after said toddler blows through the house like a hurricane.

Seriously, toothpaste ends up in the kitchen, socks under the dining table, cooking spatulas in the shoe bucket. I’m thankful our house is a little bungalow or else it would take me hours to go from room to room replacing things.

A good day usually means I get a shower in. Actually, a good day means I get some writing in. I usually opt for the keyboard over the shampoo when given twenty quiet minutes, sorry hubby.

It all seems the exact opposite of being a warrior on a battlefield. Warriors wear armor, shout battle cries, risk their lives and gain glory each and every single day.

I am fascinated with King David’s Mighty Men in the Bible, who have crazy tales of admirable feats. There’s one story in which David says he wishes he could have a drink of water from the well in his hometown. At the time, his hometown of Bethlehem was occupied by the enemy, the Philistines. That’s no problem for three of David’s Mighty Men. They risk their lives, breach enemy lines and smuggle back a pouch of water for David’s parched throat. (2 Samuel 23:15-17)

At another time, one of David’s men, Benaiah, fights with a lion and wins. (2 Samuel 23:20)

And a third battle that fascinates me is when Eleazar stands his ground against the Philistines while his army flees. The Bible says his sword became fused to his hand. Thanks to God, Eleazar beats the Philistines almost single-handedly. (2 Samuel 23:9-10)

Glory and honor. Fighting against a dark force and beating the odds.

Minus the blood and guts, there’s something really cool about being a warrior. It’s being called to fight for something, it’s taking action against a dark enemy, it’s finding courage when there really shouldn’t be any.

So I’ve been toying with the idea that maybe I CAN be a warrior—in my own home. Maybe I’m in training. A young Jedi, I suppose. (I got you, Star Wars fans.)

I fight for my family and I fight hard. I fight to keep our basic needs met—ya know food on the table and babies in clothes, ahem CLEAN clothes, kinda thing. I also fight to keep us physically healthy—doctor appointments, medicine, cleaning to keep the germs away, although notably not my strong suit.

I also fight to keep us doing things that are mentally engaging, and restful and social—fulfilling those needs.

Now spiritually I could do more, but my husband and I pray and pray hard for our marriage, our children, our children’s spouses and futures and more. That’s definitely a battle.

There are many times I want to give up. I want to stay in bed all day and stare at the ceiling, oh that would be beautiful. But I get up. I face another day, another battle and fight sometimes valiantly and sometimes just enough to keep us alive.

But the truth is that my role as a mother at home is honorable. I may not have stories written about me in the Old Testament, thank heaven, but I am certainly a HUGE part of my son’s and my husband’s stories. I may not slay thousands or risk death by battle wounds but if I didn’t do what I do then my household would crumble.

Yes, it’s a much smaller scale but it’s really important. And while I’m changing another diaper, or putting all of my son’s books back on his shelf (again) it doesn’t feel very admirable, but it is. It’s a thousand tiny, small things done with love that lead to one big thing— impacting someone’s world.

One husband, one son at a time.

I can raise my sword to that.

Meet Emily - The Emotional Roller Coaster of Growing A Family

I feel like being a mother is a constant dichotomy. At one moment, you’re just loving every second of the day and you’re totally present and the next moment you’re ready to run out of the house screaming!

So it’s very confusing. But I've been trying to embrace all of it and not beat myself up about any of it.

I felt infancy and baby years were the hardest because I couldn’t know when I was needed or actually, that I’d be needed for everything!

In the beginning you’re sacrificing every ounce of yourself. You’re sacrificing your time, your sleep, your extra curricular activities.

You’re feeling bad about everything you’re doing. I felt bad when I went to work, I even felt bad when I blowed dried my hair! I would think, I should be with my kids.

As beautiful as it is, building your family is a very stressful, trying season. You can know that you’re in one of the most beautiful seasons of life but because you’re exhausted and stretched beyond your max, it’s hard to enjoy it.

And in order to become a mother, there was a big part of me that had to die. A part of me had to die to itself. Not in a bad way, just in a changing way.

Now my sacrifices have changed in a way that I can manage a bit more. Our kids are a little older now and I have time to do things that are important to me without feeling so bad because I know my kids are okay and they can keep themselves busy.

And I look at those sacrifices differently. Right now, every sacrifice I do willingly because I’ve realized that time is fleeting.

I see how much I want to go back and do things over. I know that with each season that passes, I’m going to wish I could go back and do it better.

So maybe I just need to do it better now. And by better I mean, just lightening up on myself. Letting my kids be kids. Letting me be an imperfect mom. Letting my husband be an imperfect husband. That would help a lot.

We were trying for over a year to decide if we would add to our family. It’s a super hard decision. I would be ready and he wouldn’t be. Then he would be ready and I wouldn’t be.

It was probably the most torn we’ve been in our relationship. It was hard to get on the same page because it’s such a big deal.

But we finally just came to a place of trusting God that He would help us through all the tough times of another baby. And we decided to just go for it.

Last year around this time, I got pregnant. I knew this time what to expect. Our two kids are older and I have a better perspective. My husband was excited and it started to feel right.

At 12 weeks we had a doctor’s appointment and there was no heartbeat.

It affected me more than I had anticipated. To me, this baby was already one of our family that I had been picturing for a long time. I was so sad.

I just felt we were supposed to have another baby. So I got pregnant again and this time we miscarried at 9 weeks, right before Christmas.

I used to cry about it every day.

So this year’s been very emotional, but also kind of beautiful. It’s really taught me about the blessings that are all around me.

It tested our marriage and I’m proud of us. I feel like we modeled what God wants marriage to be because we allowed each other to have our own feelings without expectations. We respected the fact that our feelings were different and that we showed them differently.

I think I took a lot for granted before this and I don’t think I ever will again.

There is beauty in pain, you know?

I feel like I’m just now picking my head up from all of that. It was grief upon grief.

But now, it feels like the sun’s shining again.

I’ve had time to accept what I thought our family should be and isn’t. And I know down the road, God will make sense of it for me.

I don’t have someone on my hip every second, I don’t have a diaper to change, I don’t have a kid waking up in the middle of the night. And 50% of me thinks this is amazing and 50% of me thinks this is wrong.

Regardless of my feelings and thoughts, I know that God is good. I have seen him work through me and my family during times of struggle and times of loss. He has built my confidence and reminded me every step of the way that He is in control and He will provide for me.

It's allowed me to let go of my expectations and desires and accept what He desires for my family......and for me.

Pity Party - Table for One

Just gonna put it out there.

I feel sorry for myself.

There.  I said it.  

Poor me.

Life has rendered its share of ups and downs lately. No one really needs guidance to deal with the up side. We can all get behind that. It’s the struggle…disappointment…heartache that we need help with.

Some things really are unfair. And it seems like when it rains, it pours.    

Sometimes, it’s dust from the past stirring up in a new day. Who hasn’t been there?

Perhaps something we thought we had worked through, needs more attention. Maybe our loved ones have been distant when we need their support.

Maybe we’re left out by a group of friends, lose a job, feel the sting of rejection, or get a serious diagnosis.

And then, some stuff is of our own choosing. Ouch. Yeah. We choose. A misery of our own making.

It’s in those times we choose to point the finger at circumstance…a safe place for blame that requires little personal responsibility. Ouch again.

We’re quick to assign our unhappiness to someone or something else, recruiting others to validate our feelings.

And a look in the mirror after a good cry aides in feeling sorry for ourselves….our puffy eyed, blotchy faced selves.

But pity is risky business.

It begins with a thought.

And then another.

Before you know it, there is a nest making its home in your mind.

It didn’t just happen. Just as a nest is assembled twig by twig, each selfish thought has made its contribution to pity.

If not properly dealt with, it gives way to a negative attitude and a hardened heart.

Please friend, don’t go there.

Things will get better…even if it’s only your perspective that changes.  

The surest way I know how to move forward is by reaching out. Talk to a trusted friend. Not one who will trash and bash with you, but someone who loves you enough to tell you the truth…

...even if it means telling you that you are wrong.

Sing, dance, pray, take a walk, get coffee, buy flowers, rearrange furniture, wear bold lipstick, try a new hair style, read a book. Do something on purpose that replaces pity with a positive.

Perhaps neglecting yourself has given way to feeling sorry for yourself. A healthy balance is just that. Healthy.

Focus on someone else. There is always, always, always someone who is going through something far more challenging who could use a kind gesture.

You’ll be amazed at what taking your eyes off of yourself will do for you. Smile, send a card, hold a door, make a casserole.

Then fill your mind and heart with good things. Someone else has traveled the road you’re on and they have a story to share. It will help you.

Words of Gold is a great place to find just that. The young, the old, and the in between sharing, encouraging one another.

We are not alone. A hand is waiting. Take hold.