I read the following blog post written by Catherine Larson on her blog “Live Expectantly.” It captured so many of my feelings as a new mom that I had to share it for the Wednesday Wisdom Well. (She also wrote a book for expectant moms entitled Waiting in Wonder that looks really good!)

This morning at four a.m. (yes, you read that correctly: FOUR!), as I was nursing Olivia due to a six-month growth spurt, I kept thinking about Larson’s line,”These are my beautiful, prayed-for, longed-for and desired interruptions.” I also was thinking about the words hanging on a cross in Livi’s room, “For this child I have prayed” (1 Samuel 1:27). No part of me wanted to be awake at that hour but I am trying to keep the perspective that this is a season and it’s also a season I longed for and thought would never come. So I am learning to accept the cranky days and early mornings along with the cuddles and smiles, and thanking God for the opportunity to be a mom. Even if this role brings many interruptions.

“It’s almost 9 pm by the time I get my three-year old to bed. I come downstairs wash a few dishes and sit down to face a blank page, praying for some words to encourage you and the fortitude for a finished thought. Finally, some quiet. Finally, some time alone. But almost as soon as I sit down, my 16 month old starts crying. His bed-time is earlier and for some reason he’s woken up.

I give him a few minutes to see if he won’t settle down and go back to sleep, but he doesn’t. And somehow creative thoughts aren’t flowing freely while I hear my baby’s cries grow more insistent. I check on him, which only upsets him more. I try to rock him and he flails. I opt to put him back in his crib and rub his tummy to see if he won’t settle down. He does and I quietly tip-toe out of the room. But as soon as the door shuts, he’s wailing again. I give him a little while to see if he won’t calm down and go to sleep on his own. But he doesn’t and because this is unusual for him and he’s just recently had an ear infection, I decide to err on the side of some Advil and a bottle. Finally, an hour after it began, he quietly puts himself back to sleep.

By now, it’s 10 pm and I’m running on fumes. The night before, my older son had a night terror. “Stay with me a little while, Mommy” turned into me sleeping on the floor by his bed until he fell back asleep. I woke up cold and stiff around 4 am and snuck back to my own bed only to have the little one wake up before 6 am, ready to go for the day.

So as I settle in to write, somewhere north of 10 pm, after a long day, and the interrupted sleep of the night before, somehow I can’t help but think about interruptions.

Interruptions are a constant part of a parent’s life. We can’t finish a conversation with a spouse, a meal, a bathroom break, a phone conversation, or a night’s sleep without someone melting down, falling, snatching a toy, crying, or needing a diaper change. We can’t even remember how to finish our sentences we’re interrupted so many times. (Here, I’m not talking about the child who is the habitual sentence-interrupter. That’s certainly something we need to work on training them not to do. But rather, I’m focusing on those everyday interruptions that are just a part of having children.)

And sooner or later, we start learning that it’s not in the goal or the plan, but in the interruption where ministry and real life are happening. It’s in the hours when we rock a fussing baby or hold a boy’s hand until the bad dreams recede. It’s in the moment where we must stop everything to discipline or when dinner gets burnt because we take a few minutes to stop and share our child’s joy in the just-finished Play-doh creation.

With each of life’s interruptions, our children are learning about what we value most. Is it them or the finished task? Is it keeping schedule or cultivating closeness? Is it our own comfort or their well-being? They are learning whether we view them as precious souls or as exasperating obstacles to our goals.

I’m not there yet. Too often I sigh or groan or lose my cool when I’m interrupted. I’m a completer, by nature, and leaving things unfinished just kills me. But little by little, God is showing me that when I view the ordinary interruptions as exasperations that I’m really just viewing my children that way. These are my beautiful, prayed-for, longed-for and desired interruptions. These are precious souls whose nurture and care is the main business of my life… my calling.

So God, give us the grace to embrace these interruptions as opportunities, to see them as the moments where we have the chance to show our children how you view them when they knock, plead, or find themselves in need. May we bear with sleep-deprivation, unfinished goals, lost thoughts and conversations, with grace and perspective. And may our children never question their value in our eyes or yours.”

The Rabbi’s Heartbeat by Brennan Manning, pgs 37-40

“God created us for union with Himself . This is the original purpose for our lives. And God is defined as love (1 John 4:16). Living in an awareness of our belovedness is the axis around which the Christian life revolves. Being the beloved is our identity, the core of our existence. It is not merely a lofty thought. It is the name by which God knows us, and the way He relates to us (Revelations 2:17).

If I must seek an identity outside of myself, then the accumulation of wealth, power, and honors allures me. Or I may find my center of gravity in interpersonal relationships. When I draw life and meaning from any other source than my belovedness, I am spiritually dead. When God gets relegated to second place behind any bauble or trinket, I have swapped the pearl of great price for painted fragments of glass.

“Who am I?” asked Thomas Merton and he responded, “I am one loved by Christ.”

Mike Yaconelli, cofounder of Youth Specialities, tells about the time when dejected and demoralized, he made a five-day retreat to a religious community for mentally and physically handicapped, under the preaching of Henri Nowen.

Yaconelli tells his story:

“Finally I accepted my brokenness…I knew I was broken. I knew I was a sinner. I knew I continually disappointed God, but I could never accept that part of me. It was part of me that embarrassed me. I continually felt the need to apologize, to run from my weakness, to deny who I was and concentrate on who I should be. I was broken, yes, but I was continually trying to never be broken again–or at least get to the place where I was very seldom broken…

At L’Arche, it became very clear to me that I had totally misunderstood the Christian faith. I came to see that it was in my brokenness, in my powerlessness, in my weakness that Jesus made me strong. It was in the acceptance of my lack of faith that God could give me faith. It was in the embracing of my brokenness that I could identify with others’ brokenness. It was my role to identify with others’ pain, not relieve it. Ministry was sharing, not dominating; understanding, not theologizing; caring, not fixing…

There is an anticipation, an electricity about God’s presence in my life that I have never experienced before. I Can only tell you that for the first time in my life I can hear Jesus whisper to me every day, “Michael, I love you. You are beloved.” And for some strange reason, that seems to be enough.”

We are looking not at some spiritual giant of the Christian trandition, but at an ordinary evangelical man who has encountered the God of ordinary people. The God who grabs scalawags and ragamuffins by the scruff of the neck and raises them up to seat them with the princes and princesses of His people. Is this miracle enough for anybody? Or has the thunder of ‘God so loved the world so much’ been so muffled by the roar of religious rhetoric that we are deaf to the word that God could have tender feelings for us?

Define yourself radically as one beloved by God. This it true self. Every other identity is an illusion.”

About two months ago when Olivia was about two months old, I read a quote that has been percolating in this new mom’s mind ever since: “A child isn’t an interruption from the important work; A child is the important work.” (I wish I knew where I read it, but “mommy brain” has clouded my mind and for the life of me, I can’t remember!)

In my heart I deeply agreed with those words. After all, I had dreamed of becoming a mom for as long as I could remember. At first, reading this wisdom brought great freedom from the guilt of not tackling the laundry or promptly returning emails. Life was different now, and my sole responsibility was to nurture my newborn instead of checking things off my to-do list. If anything else got accomplished besides nursing, changing diapers, and bouncing Olivia that day, it was icing on the cake.

But I’ll admit, even though I loved being a mom, I still struggled with adjusting to my new way of life and as I settled into my new role, that quote stirred up a slight panic in me. I didn’t realize how much I had grown accustomed to my pre-baby lifestyle. I loved having time to meet with women and chat over coffee, write for an uninterrupted block of time, read my Bible and journal my thoughts, cook dinner and entertain friends at our house, exercise when I pleased, and browse through Target at a leisurely pace. Not to mention, I looked forward to my weekly date night with Jared and enjoyed downloading about our days over dinner on the nights in between.

And then one day, we brought a sweet baby home from the hospital and our lives have never been the same. We fell deeply in love with our long-awaited bundle but we also experienced our fair share of difficult moments.

One of those challenging days was over a month ago now. It took me a while to figure out what was bothering me, but I felt very anxious. All day. I couldn’t shake the cloud that loomed over me. And of course on that particular day, Livi wanted to exercise her vocal cords. All day. It seemed everything I tried throughout that day didn’t appease her. And honestly, I was exasperated. At one point when she was screaming and I was trying to calm her down, I said to her, “I know, sweetie, it’s okay to cry. Mommy wants to cry too!”

I finally calmed her enough to rock her in the glider in her room. As my body swayed with the movement of the rocker, my mind raced with all of the things I still had to do. Cook dinner. Clean the hardwood floors. Empty the dishwasher. Finish thank you notes. Respond to emails.

Yet, instead of accomplishing anything on my list, I was sitting upstairs in a dark room holding my baby because she had finally dozed off to sleep. As I rested my head on the cushion and asked God to speak to me, I felt Him say, “Stay.” And I knew exactly what He meant. Don’t try to tiptoe to her crib, lay her down and then scurry out the door to accomplish a few things in those glorious moments of silence. Instead, I knew He wanted me to sit and hold my sweet daughter and allow God to calm me in the stillness as well.

I sat in that chair for over an hour as I held my sleeping girl and talked with God. I asked Him to enter into my frustrated thoughts and point me to truth. Slowly as I quieted my heart, He revealed some freeing insights to me.

One of the insights He showed me surprised me. I realized that I was carrying around some shame over not enjoying each and every moment of motherhood. I felt so guilty that I had prayed so fervently for a baby and then when she arrived, there were moments that I felt overwhelmed and even wondered if I was cut out to be a mom. Every time I talked with someone who exclaimed, “Aren’t you just loving every minute?” I felt a sandbag of guilt pile on top of me. Was it okay to admit that although, yes, I loved my daughter to pieces, no, I wasn’t loving every single second? In all honesty, I was shell-shocked with how much our lives had changed and I was emotionally and physically exhausted. And although I couldn’t believe I was saying it, I missed parts of my before-baby life. Sleep. Quiet. Reflection. Connectedness.

As I continued to rock Olivia, a quote came to my mind that kept popping up in conversations and in my reading: “Wherever you are be all there.” I have noticed whenever there is a theme I need to tune my ear to what God may be saying to me, and so I’ve been thinking a lot about these words.  (I wrote a few of my thoughts about being present here.) It is definitely the desire of my heart for Olivia to know that she isn’t just a distraction to what I really want to be doing; she is my primary focus and I want to be “all there” when I am mothering her.  However, if I could be honest in my brief experience of motherhood thus far, I am realizing that in order to be all there for her, I have to have some moments to recharge. I’ve struggled with the guilt I have felt for needing a break from wearing a mommy hat. Was it okay that I needed a respite? And was it okay to admit that even though I loved Olivia there were parts of being a mom that were really challenging and even discouraging?

Yes and yes, I have found that it is okay. It’s taken me a while to realize that part of my anxiety was due to the fact that I wasn’t living up to the elusive “perfect mother” image that whispered to me in my not-so-great hours, “Every other mom cherishes these moments; what is wrong with you?” Thankfully after several discussions with dear friends, I am realizing that many moms have felt this way too but they’ve been afraid to admit it. One of the most guilt-lifting realizations was that it’s not that I don’t want to be a mom. Quite the contrary, I want to be a great mom, and I am learning part of the way for me to be that is to not only take care of my daughter and husband but take some moments for myself to replenish and especially have moments with God so that when I am mothering Olivia, I can be “all there.”

However, as we all know, having these realizations and integrating them into our reality can be the challenging part. As I look back over the last four months, finding time for me has hardly happened since Olivia was born—and not because my husband hasn’t been supportive or our parents haven’t been willing to babysit. It’s just that there’s so much to do and my rejuvenating time can easily be pushed out by piles of laundry, a full inbox, and a long list of errands. I now can totally comprehend how motherhood becomes all encompassing and before you know it, you don’t even know who you are anymore apart from being a mom. Part of this is good; my life has great purpose in caring and nurturing for a little life. But part of this, I am realizing, can be so dangerous if I am not careful to nurture who I was before becoming a mom and who I want to be as a woman.

And so I am learning, as much as mothering can be very satisfying, it is not my sole identity. I am also a writer, a teacher, a friend, a daughter, a sister, a wife, and most of all, a follower of Christ. When my identity rests here and I nurture all parts of me, I can view my new life and my new role with such greater perspective and I can also enjoy my mommy moments so much more.

Just like spring is hopefully arriving here, I’ve come to view life in seasons. It occurred to me as I’ve been processing all of these thoughts about being a mom that this little block of time with a young baby (or insert whatever stage you are in) is a season. It won’t last forever and I can understand a bit more why people who have lived through a particular season look back with a glimmer in their eye and say, “Cherish every moment.” When you look back on a season, it is a lot easier to skip over the extra hard days and just remember the sweet moments (like my college days!).

Which reminds me of a situation I experienced recently with Jared’s lovely ninety-two-year-old grandmother. While we were visiting, she kept saying over and over, “the years go by so quickly,” and “enjoy every one of these moments” and “hold her as much as you can because she’ll be too big really soon.” I didn’t seem to mind her comments as much because I am sure when you’re in that situation where you are looking at your great granddaughter, the scenes from all of your life seem to flash before you and it feels like yesterday when you were cradling your own.  I also didn’t mind because she prays for us constantly, loves us well, and her heart is so kind. Later on during our visit, Olivia became very fussy and started uncontrollably crying. I was bouncing her back and forth through the living room trying to calm her down to no avail. After a good while, Grandma Warner looked at me and with such sweet sincerity in her voice she said, “That was good for me to see and remember that there are hard moments too.” I can’t tell you how validated I felt. I have thought of that moment so many times since and have tried to take to heart her advice of holding Olivia more as well as remembering that some moments as a mom are just plain hard.

After two months of reflecting, I am realizing that yes, raising a child is very important work. But the most valuable endeavor is what Beth Moore reminded me in her teaching series on Deuteronomy when she said, “To be a successful mother in God’s eyes, love the Lord with everything you have got.” The overflow of loving and seeking God will bring the energy, joy, and perspective needed to be the mother and woman God has created me to be. Now, that’s important work.

One of my dear friends recommended the book Loving the Little Years by Rachel Jankovic. I am only half way through it but really enjoying the short chapters of insight for parents of little ones (like me!). I particularly liked the chapter entitled “Spirited Riders” about teaching a little girl about her emotions (and I think it’s relevant  for big girls too!). Here is a snipet from the chapter:

Loving the Little Years, pgs 27-30 by Rachel Jankovic

“When it comes to little girls and their emotions, A does not necessarily cause B. But when B is what needs to be disciplined, it can feel frustrating to have no clues as to what member of the alphabet actually caused it…

Say it is someone else’s birthday. Say your child wants a present too. Say they start fussing about it. Imagine that then you say, “Don’t do that. That is bad. Don’t be a fusser. Deal with it.” How did that help anyone? The child is taught that if the feeling comes over them, they have already failed. That is bad! But what am I supposed to do with it? It doesn’t just go away by itself. Little girls need help sorting out their emotions–not so they can wallow in them but so they can learn to control them.

We tell our girls that their feelings are like horses–beautiful, spirited horses. But they are the riders. We tell them that God gave them this horse when they were born, and they will ride it their whole life. God also set us on a path on the top of a mountain together and told us to follow it. We can see for a long way–there are beautiful flowers, lakes, trees, and rainbows. (We are little girls after all!) This is how we “walk in the light as He is in the light, and have fellowship with one another” (1 John 1:7).

When our emotions act up, it is like the horse trying to jump the fence and run down into a yucky place full of spiders to get lost in the dark. A good rider knows what to do when the horse tries to bolt–you pull on the reins! Turn the horse’s head! Get back on the path! We also tell our girls that God told us if we see one of them with her horse down in the mud puddle spitting at people who walk by, it is our job to haul them up, willing or unwilling, back to the path. The ways that this has helped me as a mother are pretty obvious, but I will share them anyway if you will bear with me.

First of all, the horses are not the problem. There is nothing wrong with the emotions. If we have a little rider who is woefully unprepared to control her horse, well them, we had better start with some pretty serious riding lessons. Talk to your daughters about how they might feel, and what you want to see when they do. Give them practical handhold; be a coach. Anticipate moments that might be hard, when the horse might bolt, and help them learn to anticipate it too. Take a little break to say, “Hey sweetie, we are going in this store, but we aren’t going to buy any toys today. If you start feeling like you want to fuss about it, what are we going to do?” Make a plan. Use code words. Wink. Encourage. Give lots of praise when you see her overcoming little emotional temptations. Be right there with her as she learns to recognize what is happening. Little girls can be scared out of their minds when their emotions charge off with them. They need the security of parents pulling them back.

The goal is not to cripple the horse, but equip the rider. A well-controlled passionate personality is a powerful thing. That is what dangerous women are made of. But a passionate personality that is unbridled can cause a world of damage. If you see a lot of passion in your little girls, don’t be discouraged. It is just wondreful raw material…”

I am so grateful and humbled to have the opportunity to teach these things to my little girl!

Olivia is asleep in the swing, the rain is falling softly, and I am sitting on the couch ready to reflect for a few moments on what God has been teaching me the past few days while waiting for the news of my CT scan.

First of all, I was so relieved and grateful to find out everything looks “perfect.” I haven’t had much of an opportunity to exhale yet because right after the doctor left the room, I needed to feed a hungry baby and then we packed up and headed home. I am so grateful for a few moments of quiet to thank God for a clean bill of health. I remember a woman I respect mentioning a few years ago how important it is to give as much effort in thanking God for how He’s answered our prayers as we do at presenting our requests to Him. I think of that every time I leave the doctor’s office with a good report. It’s so easy to move right along to the next request on my mind instead of reveling in the way God showed up. I am so incredibly humbled and grateful for a good report and I do not take it for granted. Not one minute.

I would be remiss to not mention how challenging the days leading up to this appointment have been. The anxiety crept in so stealthily that I didn’t realize I was worried about the appointment until I was cloaked in fear. I literally had a stomachache from the panic I was feeling internally.

I was frustrated with myself over how worried I was about this scan for a couple of reasons. First, I had just had a c-section three months prior where the oncologist was able to get a good look at my body and reported all looked “pristine.” So in my mind I knew there was not much to worry about but I was having a difficult time convincing my heart of that fact. Second, I have had so many of these scans and appointments over the last three and a half years that it’s not like a routine CT scan is new for me. So why was my stomach tied in knots over this one?

Maybe it was because I had gotten out of the practice of cancer check-ups since I took a break during my pregnancy and quickly forgot how fear-inducing those appointments were. Maybe it was because I had a little girl now and every decision and outcome felt twice as serious. Maybe it was because I was tired and still trying to find my rhythm as a new mom. I couldn’t pinpoint the exact reason, but all I knew was that I had some deep fears and triggers that were bubbling to the surface and needed to be addressed.

Once I realized that I had blown this scan way out of proportion in my mind, I knew I needed to invite God into my fears and thoughts. The first thing I did was find the song that I wrote about last week and begin playing it over and over. I have found that music speaks so intimately into my heart and helps me hold onto truth that I so desperately need. I specifically resonated with the words:

“God whatever comes my way, 
I will trust you.
All my fears all my dreams, held in your hands.”

That’s how I felt; My fears of returning cancer and my dreams of raising my children were in God’s hands and I needed that song to remind me over and over again that I could trust God with those personal thoughts. When my own words were difficult to find, singing those lyrics helped me articulate what I felt in my heart.

I knew that my next line of attack against my fear needed to be reading Scripture because that’s where the true power is. I’ll be honest, my Bible reading time has taken a major hit since having a baby. Yet I knew I needed to intentionally surround myself with truth to protect myself against the many lies and what if’s that were raging around me. While nursing on Saturday, I picked up my copy of Jesus Calling and asked God to speak to me. I admit that I am still reading in November instead of in March where I should be, but nevertheless, it was exactly what I needed to hear.

I opened up my Bible app on my phone (so much easier while nursing!) and read the verse with my upcoming CT scan in mind:

“The Lord replied [to Moses], ‘My presence will go with you and I will give you rest’” (Exodus 33:14).

You know when you read something at just the right time that you know was for you? That was how I felt when I read those words. I needed the reminder that God’s presence would be with me and give my heart rest. And not just for this appointment but in this transition of becoming a mom too.

The next morning I asked God to keep speaking to me. One of my most favorite verses and one that I have held onto during so many nerve-wracking appointments in the past jumped off the page:

“You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast because he trusts in Thee” (Isaiah 26:3).

I drank up those words and allowed them to soothe my shaking soul. I repeated them to myself over and over and reminded myself to keep a steadfast mind (a concept I have studied about in the past and wrote about here).

God also spoke to me through the sermon at our church later that morning. Though I wasn’t able to totally concentrate because Jared and I were bouncing Olivia to keep her content, what I took away from the message was the importance of prayer in our daily lives and in our spiritual battle. And again, I admit, another discipline that has seriously lacked since having a baby. I knew I needed to ask for prayer from those close to me. I knew I needed others battling for truth and peace for me. I knew that the prayers of those around me truly would make a difference.

It amazed me that when I woke up this morning, the day of my appointment, I hardly felt any trepidation. I knew that was a direct result of the truth I was meditating on and the answered prayers for peace and strength. Let’s be honest, I wasn’t skipping around the halls of my house with great anticipation for my appointment, but I had a deep peace that God had prepared me for this day and He would work on my behalf.

It wasn’t a pretty process to get to that point. There was much nail-biting and stomach-rumbling, as well as many honest prayers and a few tears. I’m still trying to process why this appointment unearthed so many fears and anxieties, but one thing I know: God once again proved Himself faithful and provided so many reassurances to remind me He was walking every step with me.

As I finish this post, it is now late and the rain has turned to snow. My baby is sleeping in the room down the hall and my husband is sleeping next to me. My heart feels so full of gratitude for those two cherished answered prayers as well as today’s answered prayer of a clean bill of health. I lay my head down tonight so humbled for how faithful and kind God has been yet again to me. I can finally exhale.

It’s that time again. It’s funny how I can almost forget that I have to receive constant cancer check-ups, but once the date is on the calendar, it stares me in the face reminding me every day until it is behind me. Tomorrow (Friday) is the day for my first scan in over a year. I had one in December of 2011 but then was pregnant so I didn’t have any scans during that time. And boy, it was nice! As you know, my oncologist here in Cincinnati was able to peek inside when I had my c-section and everything looked “pristine” according to him. However, I need to get another scan to make sure everything continues to look pristine. I hate how the fears and anxieties creep up as the date approaches. As I was sitting here praying about the appointment and asking for peace, I felt like I should include you in on this part of the journey and ask for your continued prayers. I am specifically asking for:

*a completely clear report with no issues and no indication of any cancer

*for peace during my scan and while I wait until Tuesday for my appointment with my oncologist.

Thank you for praying me through another stop on this journey!

As I was driving home last night I listened to Chris Tomlin’s new cd, Burning Lights, and especially was struck by his song “Sovereign.” I think you’ll enjoy it too. May each of us say, “God, whatever comes my way, I will trust you.”

Sovereign by Chris Tomlin

How I wish I had more time to write about what I am learning about being present in my season of life. I started writing a blog post about two weeks ago but with traveling to Chicago and daily life with Olivia, I have not made much progress on it. And now as I sit to type, I hear Olivia waking up from her way-too-short nap, so I must end this before I ever really got started!

However, my main goal in writing was to pass along this blog post written by someone I don’t know but definitely respect. You may have seen it circulating on Facebook if you peruse there but I thought it was so good that I wanted to repost. It was written on the blog “4 Little Fergusons” by a mom. She also posted a blog before that entitled “Dear Dad on the Recliner.”

“Dear Mom On the iPhone,

I see you over there on the bench, messing on your iPhone.  It feels good to relax a little while your kids have fun in the sunshine, doesn’t it?  You are doing a great job with your kids, you work hard, you teach them manners, have them do their chores.

But Momma, let me tell you what you don’t see right now…..

Your little girl is spinning round and round, making her dress twirl.  She is such a little beauty queen already, the sun shining behind her long hair.  She keeps glancing your way to see if you are watching her.

You aren’t.

Your little boy keeps shouting, “Mom, MOM watch this!”  I see you acknowledge him, barely glancing his way.

He sees that too.  His shoulders slump, but only for a moment, as he finds the next cool thing to do.

Now you are pushing your baby in the swing.  She loves it!  Cooing and smiling with every push.  You don’t see her though, do you?  Your head is bent, your eyes on your phone as you absently push her swing.

Talk to her.  Tell her about the clouds, Mommy.  The Creator who made them. Tickle her tummy when she comes near you and enjoy that baby belly laugh that leaves far too quickly.

Put your eyes back on your prize…Your kids.

Show them that they are the priority. Wherever you are, be ALL there.  I am not saying it’s not ok to check in on your phone, but it’s a time-sucker: User Beware!

Play time at the park will be over before you know it.

The childhood of your children will be gone before you know it.

They won’t always want to come to the park with you, Mommy.  They won’t always spin and twirl to make their new dress swish, they won’t always call out, “WATCH ME!”

There will come a point when they stop trying, stop calling your name, stop bothering to interrupt your phone time.

Because they know…

You’ve shown them, all these moments, that the phone is more important than they are.  They see you looking at it at while waiting to pick up brother from school, during playtime, at the dinner table, at bedtime…..

I know that’s not true, Mommy.

I know your heart says differently.

But your kids can’t hear your words, Mommy. Your actions are screaming way too loudly.

May our eyes rest upon those we love, first and foremost, and may everything else fall away in the wonderful, noisy, sticky-fingered glory of it all.”

***

One of the quotes that I keep stumbling upon is “Wherever you are, be all there” (Jim Elliot). God has been reminding me to “be all there” and be present in my daily life with Olivia. I definitely don’t get it right every day (or even every hour) but I am growing in the practice of being present in this season. Hopefully you will hear from me again soon in greater detail about these thoughts! Until then, I leave you with a simple, inspiring poem that I want to frame in my kitchen:

Let’s each choose to embrace the season God has given each of us and “be all there.”

On New Year’s Day, while Olivia napped and I recovered from the stomach flu, I took a bath and reflected on all that had transpired in 2012. As I sat there thinking and praying, I was overcome with gratitude for how far God had brought Jared and me. As 2011 closed, we felt a bit discouraged. Jared had experienced a few closed doors professionally and was trying to trust God to bring him the right job that meshed more of his gifts and his priorities. I was growing weary of the wait for a baby and wondering if we would ever move beyond our “watching and waiting” season of life.

Oh, what a difference a year makes!

When I found another pocket of time to journal, I decided to catalog the year of 2012 so that I could see more of the timeline of where and how God worked in our lives. It was so rewarding that I hope to do this every year—even the years that finding God’s fingerprints may seem a bit more difficult. Not only was it encouraging for me to look back and see God’s hand in our lives, but I also enjoyed documenting our year to review again someday.

*2012*

January~

• I started 2012 by celebrating my mom’s birthday in Orlando. While there, Jared received a call from his headhunter telling him of a job that looked like a perfect fit in of all places: Cincinnati (where I grew up and where my parents currently live).
• We took a vacation in the Bahamas where Jared spent much of the time preparing for his upcoming interviews and I spent my time praying for our future, including my deep desire for a baby.

• We spent the rest of the month praying, hoping, and waiting on what God may have for our future.

February~

• We traveled back to Cincinnati for more interviews for Jared. We waited, talked, prayed and continued our lives in Chicago until we heard more definitive answers. We’d been down this road before.
• My heart still longed for a baby and Jared and I talked frequently about how, if things worked out for his job, maybe it wasn’t the right time to be pregnant with all of the packing, moving and transitioning.
• On February 27^th, while we worked out at the gym down the street, Jared received the call offering him the job. That night we began the preparations to move quickly as Jared was asked to start in his new position three weeks later.

March~

• I began the month by touring over twenty homes in Cincinnati with my mom looking for the right neighborhood and house for us to live.
• I returned home to attend a baby shower for one of my best friends and asked God to tenderly care for my vulnerable heart as I so wanted a baby of my own.
• The next morning, March 11^th, I got up the nerve to take a pregnancy test, hoping beyond hope that my late period was not just due to the stress of moving. To my surprise and delight, I saw a “+” and woke Jared up with the news. While we were thrilled, we also tried to cautiously guard our expectations. We didn’t want to get too ahead of ourselves.
• I called a friend of mine, a fertility doctor, to ask for a recommendation for an OB office in Cincinnati and he encouraged me to get an ultrasound right away in case of a tubal pregnancy due to my abdominal surgeries.
• A day later, I layed on the table at Northwestern Hospital, in a similar room to where I received one of my first ultrasounds confirming my cancer diagnosis, and prayed with great hope that this tiny baby inside of me was healthy. The technician told me that it was too early to see much but she confirmed it did look like I was pregnant and all appeared okay.
• We drove to Cincinnati the next day with a packed car and moved into my old bedroom at my parents’ home. Jared started his first day of work just a few days later.
• The next week, Jared and I sat in our friend’s office gazing at the tiny embryo with a strong heartbeat on the screen. I have hardly ever been so relieved. Hope began to take root in my heart.
• With such confirmation, we shared the exciting news of our baby with both sets of parents. Each of their reactions was priceless to us and evenings we’ll never forget.
• We ended the month by placing an offer on a house that we loved and after a little negotiating, it was accepted. However, due to the seller’s wishes, we found out we weren’t able to move in for two more months!

April~

• At the beginning of the month, we shared our news with the rest of our immediate family. They had each been praying for us for quite some time and it was so fun to celebrate all God had done.

• I began to feel officially pregnant with pounding headaches and nausea, but I was just happy to be seeing signs of what I’d longed for.
• My mom and I packed the last of Jared’s and my belongings from our Chicago house and handed the keys over to our tenants to begin our new adventure.

• At the end of the month, I flew to Orlando to speak at a women’s conference with one of my dearest friends. Being a part of the conference was such a confirmation to me of my passions and I enjoyed every minute, especially appreciating that I didn’t feel any nausea for the few days I was there.

May~

• I joyfully cried at the thought of experiencing my first Mother’s Day with a baby growing inside of me. I’d waited for this day for a long time.

• I spent much of the month lying on the couch eating goldfish crackers and ginger ale (totally not a part of my normal healthy diet!) to curb the nausea.
• The last day of the month we closed on our house and the workers began tearing out tile and installing hardwood floors in the first floor of our new home.

June~

• A couple of weeks later, the project was finished and we finally moved into our new house! Jared and I enjoyed settling into our house and finding our new groove after living out of suitcases for over two months.
• We visited a church we liked and decided to begin attending there regularly. It felt really good to settle in our new stomping grounds.

July~

• On July 2^nd, I had my 20-week ultrasound and we were so thrilled to discover our baby was healthy and a GIRL! I experienced God’s kindness to me on a whole new level as I reveled in my excitement of a dream come true.

• A week and a half later, sitting outside of Whit’s Frozen Custard, we told both sets of parents that our little girl’s name would be Olivia Marie.
• I had the wonderful opportunity to help lead the Youth Writing Camp at Miami University again and felt confirmed that teaching writing to young students was among my passions as well.
• Now that I knew my baby was a girl, I began working with more of a vision for her room. I so enjoyed finding bargains at garage sales with my mom and decorating the room.
• Jared and I also made more of a concerted effort to connect in our marriage now that we had settled into our life in Cincinnati. With so much transition and excitement, we realized the need for greater communication and intentional time together and so reinstated our weekly date night.

August~

• Jared and I took our last vacation without children and traveled back to California. We walked through the town of Carmel, read in the sun, put together a puzzle and dreamed of our little girl. We also visited Pebble Beach with Jared’s parents and the guys celebrated his dad’s birthday with a round of golf.

September~

• I felt so incredibly loved by such dear friends and family members who hosted baby showers for me. I will never forget feeling supported by so many friends from all stages of my life.
• I began working again with the Ohio Writing Project and loved thinking more about writing and teaching.
• Jared and I grew in anticipation to meet our Olivia and finished the last projects on our list, including maternity photos.

October~

• I attended my ten-year college reunion with my housemates from my senior year. It was especially meaningful to reflect together on how much God had worked in each of our lives—marriage, children, jobs, sickness, moves, heartache, joy—in the ten years since living together.

• I worked through my fears about labor and surrendered my birth plan to God, even though I still hoped I could give birth naturally.

November~

• As I awoke each morning, I was sure that day would be the day that Olivia would arrive. I spent much of November waiting and waiting and waiting for her to give me a sign she was ready to come. Thankfully I also had many date nights with Jared as we waited.
• November 14^th, Olivia’s original due date, came and went and so did my hopes of having a natural childbirth. After many discussions with the doctors, we scheduled a c-section.
• On November 21^st, exactly at noon, I met my baby girl for the first time. I will never forget that moment for as long as I live! It was not a coincidence that we celebrated Thanksgiving in the hospital as we were so thankful for our greatest blessing of 2012.

• We brought Olivia home from the hospital and all at once our lives and sleep habits changed forever!

December~

• There were several times during the first week when I was nursing Livi that tears fell from my eyes as the reality that my daughter was home, healthy, and ours felt too good to be true.There were days I had wondered if I would ever have this opportunity.
• At a week old, Olivia had her first photo shoot!

• The next couple of weeks proved to be a bit more challenging as Jared and I tried to figure out the reason for Olivia’s fussiness. We carried her around the house, bounced her on the exercise ball, held her in the football hold and anything possible to soothe her.

• At her one month doctor’s appointment, Olivia was diagnosed with acid reflux and prescribed medicine. Though I didn’t want to have to put medicine inside her little body, the relief and happiness it brought to Olivia was worth it. She smiled for the first time shortly after.

• Olivia celebrated her first Christmas with both of our families and played with her cousins for the first time.

As I wrote out the events of 2012, I noticed some repetition and themes from the year. After much waiting, it was a full year of change with a new job for Jared, a move to a different city and the birth of a baby. In a lot of ways, in 2012 we experienced a harvest of many of our prayers and dreams from the previous years. It seemed only fitting that Olivia would be born the day before Thanksgiving because it marked a year of gratefulness to all that God had done and how He had so tenderly provided for us. If there is anything I take away from this time of reflection, it’s that God has been so incredibly faithful to me, and I feel so very humbled that in 2012 we were able to see so many examples of His faithfulness. He taught us once again that His timing truly is perfect and though the wait may seem long and arduous at times, He always has a purpose and always brings ultimate good.

As I embrace 2013, my eyes are open to the big and small ways He will show more of Himself to me. I pray yours are too!

“The Lord has done great things for us, and we are filled with joy.” Psalm 126:3

For Christmas my sister-in-law gave me a relatable book for my season of life: The Mommy Diaries: Finding Yourself in the Daily Adventure. I actually had time last evening to sit down and read a few chapters and I resonated with much of what was written in the short excerpts about motherhood. I especially enjoyed the story below because I could see how easily I could lose myself in the daily grind of motherhood. Her words were inspiring to me as I begin this adventure. I pray they’ll encourage you as well no matter where you are on the journey of motherhood.

The Mommy Diaries: Finding Yourself in the Daily Adventure edited by Tally Flint

“The High Chair Day” by Jane Rubietta, pgs 13-17

“…Once babies are born, priorities shift. No longer are we our first concern. And this is a good, growing, turning point. Our helpless infants become our raison d’être, our reason for being. And while we are helping them grow emotionally, physically, and spiritually, it is so easy to neglect the same growth frontiers in our own lives. The result may not be pretty…

I’d lost myself in the parenting equation. In those rules of good mothers, no one told me that my identity as a woman needed attention, just like my kids…If who I am is what I do, well, I spent a lot of time changing diapers, shoveling food off the floor and feeding neighborhood children…I knew I wanted to grow in my role as a mother. I hadn’t realized that if I want to grow in my roles, I first needed to grow in my soul. That morning my inventory revealed seriously bare emotional cupboards. No one fed into my life; no wise women mentored me. My reading consisted of board books and occasionally a fast-food Scripture, but no serious depth reading that nurtured my soul or emotional needs.

I  said yes to everything that came along. Yes to the person wanting to offer a party-plan home show. Yes to the leader-less committee at church. Yes to the substitute Sunday school teaching. Yes to the undones my husband couldn’t finish. Yes to the neighbors, yes to anyone, everyone–because good women said yes. But I never said yes to myself.

This partially explained my hunger that morning for silence, my spurting anger over one more request for help. My rage was over my lost self. We react out of our wounds. In the stillness, I acknowledged the wounds behind the anger. I needed help working through some ancient pain, so I sought a support group. Each Thursday for a few hours was my own, and if Rich wasn’t free to be with the children, then I swapped time with a neighbor. I created boundaries to protect this fragile person developing within me, just as I would protect my own children. I never said yes to anyone else on Thursday night because healing was my first emotional priority.

And with equal vigilance I guarded time each morning for my soul. If a boundary protects the unique identity God has given each one of us, then we are the only people who can do that for ourselves. Kids, husband, neighbors, church–these people will not protect that special identity.

That day began an internal listening process. Parts of me were dying, withering away like muscles long ignored. Gifts I neglected, hopes I discarded, interests I set aside that brought life and rounded out my soul. To listen better, I started journaling for emotional, spiritual and artistic health, taking notes on my soul, on my parenting mess-ups, on my disastrous attempts at wholeness. I practiced noticing sunsets and describing them, and I read everything possible out loud to the children. Journaling taught me to notice my needs, to practice honesty, to work through emotional radioactivity.

Children’s voices, sweet and strident as they are, drown out those internal longings. Who else are we besides mothers? What hopes and gifts nestle inside, buried treasure waiting for discovery. Creating space to listen helps us to develop those gifts and hopes.

As a woman who put great stock in doing for others and ignoring herself, I needed enormous practice in becoming–being the woman I was called to be, before a husband and children took up residence in my heart.”

I’ve been looking forward to writing again. Ever since Olivia was born there has not been much time for me to sit and reflect, much less organize my thoughts into words to form a blog entry. I am learning to embrace my new normal and though I love my new role as a mom, I’ll admit that it’s been difficult to give up my writing and reading time (okay, and sleep too!). Now that the holidays are over and Jared and I are finding our groove as parents a tad more, I couldn’t wait to to pound away on the keyboard and work through some of the lessons God has been teaching me in this new season of life.

Along with beginning to write again, I also had another signal last week that life was beginning to settle down since Olivia’s arrival: I had time to get a haircut! Before being a new mom, if anyone would have mentioned that this was an exciting event in their week, I would have dubbed them as quite lame. But let me tell you, an hour away to complete a task just for me seemed glorious.

So last week my mom offered to babysit Olivia while I enjoyed my appointment. Since the salon is right next to Target, we decided I would just bring Livi to the salon and my mom would walk through Target with her. (Who couldn’t kill an hour in Target?) It was supposed to work beautifully because my appointment was after I’d fed Olivia and she hadn’t slept in a while, so after a car ride there, I was sure she’d be cashed out for the entire Target shopping trip.

Uh huh. You guessed it. Not so much. I learned yet again that I can plan really well but a baby can have a mind of her own.  By the time I arrived in the Target parking lot, my girl was wide-eyed and fussy. Not what I planned but thankfully my mom has plenty of experience in soothing fussy babies (my twin brother and I gave her a run for her money!). I apologized to my mom that I was leaving her with an unhappy baby, but she didn’t seem to mind and in fact viewed it as a challenge. (Bless grandparents!)

While getting my hair shampooed, I kept wondering if Olivia had calmed down. I know, I was supposed to be enjoying my uninterrupted time of pampering but it was hard to take my “mom hat” off, especially when I feared she may be using her vocal cords in the store next door.  When my hair stylist told me she’d be right back, I couldn’t help myself and called my mom to check on Olivia. My mom answered the phone saying, “Well, Melt-down Mellie just fell asleep.” Uh oh. She told me about how Livi cried and screamed in the stroller down the aisles of Target until my mom picked her up, cuddled her in her fuzzy blanket and calmed her to sleep.  Thankfully my mom knew what she needed because my sweet little girl has a bit of a difficult time winding down once she’s worked herself up. I wonder where she gets that?!

As the hair stylist cut my hair, my mind drifted to all that I was learning in my new role. One of the most difficult parts for me to adjust to as a new mom is learning to roll with the punches and embrace the unknowns that come with a newborn. Will she sleep in the car so I can run my errand or will she meltdown about being in her car seat? Will she wake up starving or will she be content for a few minutes? Will she blow out her diaper while we are out on the day I forgot to pack an extra outfit? Maybe some moms easily go with the flow, but that’s not one of my strengths. I like to have things planned out and scheduled and yet I am quickly learning that having a baby doesn’t always work that way. Instead, I am learning (by trial and error) to embrace the uncontrollable variables that come with parenting a child. If she melts down right when I arrive at Target, so be it. If she doesn’t nap when I planned, oh well. If only it was as easy to adapt this new mindset as it was to write it! Yet I am learning parenting is a day by day process of learning and growing not only in my role but in getting to know my sweet daughter.

Luckily for me, I got an opportunity to solidify these lessons just a little while later. After my haircut, I met my mom back at Target and we browsed for a few minutes although I knew the clock was ticking when Olivia would want to eat.

One thing I have learned about Livi is that she has a bit of intensity in her personality. (Who knew you could see so much of yourself in a child so young?!) She often has some strong opinions and makes sure to let us know. Because of this, I am learning to anticipate her opinions before they become full-out meltdowns. Thus, I knew I needed to feed her before heading home so that she would more compliantly sit in her car seat (which is not one of her favorite things).

After she had eaten and was smiling, my mom and I buckled Olivia back in her seat and I headed home. I drove for about five minutes before I heard Olivia break into cries. She normally settles right down in the car but this time, there was no settling. She started crying so hard that she couldn’t catch her breath. Since she was behind me and I was driving, I started to internally panic when several seconds went by with no sound. I pulled over at a gas station, opened her door, shhhh-ed in her ear and inserted her pacifier to try to calm her down. Big, fat crocodile tears ran down her red cheeks. She whimpered and sucked on the paci, so I started to drive again. Not three minutes further, she started screaming again. I knew it was because her pacifier had fallen out of her mouth (she is a little paci-challenged!) and she was not going to soothe without it. Again, she was screaming so hard that there were several seconds of silence in between cries. I couldn’t handle it and stopped again to replace the paci and calm my little girl. Finally, we were about four minutes from home when I stopped at a really long red light. I nervously tapped my foot on the car mat because I knew we were on borrowed time if the car stayed idle any longer. Sure enough, blood-curdling screams. One more time I stopped the car, ran around to insert the paci and calm my very upset child. At this point, she really was past the point of comfort and the only way I was going to stop the crying was to pull her out of her seat. Since it was 20-something degrees, I wasn’t about to do that, especially since we were so close to arriving home. I shut her door and started driving, tears forming in the corners of my eyes. I felt really helpless as Olivia screamed in the backseat and there was nothing I could do. All I could think to do was pray.

“Lord, I know this is only the very first lesson in a lifelong journey of learning that You are truly the only One who can comfort her. Would You do that right now because I cannot?”

The circumstances didn’t really change; Livi still was crying pretty hard though the volume diminished a touch. But I felt a little calmer knowing that a) if she screamed as hard as she could, she would still breathe and b) God would give me what I needed in my overwhelmed moments as a new mom.

Once the evening wound down and Olivia was fast asleep, I tried to think about what I could learn from my dramatic day with a newborn. I thought back to what I was pondering when getting my haircut, and realized that God was giving me opportunities to not only loosen my grip on life but trust Him to take care of me, my schedule, and most importantly, my daughter. I guess there’s no other way to learn these lessons than experiencing them firsthand…and then writing about and chuckling about all of the rookie mistakes later.

I hope to begin finding some time during Olivia’s naps to write a little more frequently. It’s so refreshing to process what God is doing in my life, even in these harried early days of being a mom. I hope as this new year begins that you are able to find some uninterrupted time for reflection as well.

***

I had written this blog post yesterday and was planning to post it later on today. This morning I had to run out to get more diapers for Olivia. With a little fear and trepidation, I decided to apply the lessons I wrote above and run the errand even if the trip was a bit overwhelming. Of course, right as I arrived at Target, she melted down. (So much so that a sweet lady came up to me and said, “I promise, it does get better!”) But I realized as I got in the car to head home that though she did exactly what I hoped she wouldn’t, we survived! And I know that’s much of what new motherhood is all about right now!

All smiles once we’re home, which makes all of the meltdowns totally worth it.