A Picture of a Pitcher..

I read a blog post from Beth Moore at Living Proof Ministries this morning at about 5am, after putting my kids back to bed after the thunder woke them up. I would encourage all of you to read it- it's all about throwing our burdens onto the Lord instead of hauling them around by ourselves. Click the link below to read it.

"Throw Your Burden"- By Beth Moore


I posted a comment, which (naturally) turned into a full page. So I thought I'd share it here. It will make sense if you don't read Beth Moore's post, but I really, really encourage you to read it first. It was soooo good! I hope this comes as an encouragement to someone- it has definitely changed my perspective on a few things.

My response:

 "This was such a great read after putting my kids back to bed (again) during last night’s storms. I know there are a few things I’ve been holding too tightly to and need to throw to Jesus.

As I lied in my bed, listening to the pounding rain, I couldn’t help but imagine myself throwing my cares to the Lord, like a little girl playing catch with her Daddy. Some I threw with full force- like an all star pitcher- right into Jesus’ powerful, loving arms. Others, it seemed, were harder to throw. Perhaps because I had been so worn down by them and couldn’t find my strength, or maybe because in my heart of hearts I was still to scared to let them go.

I pictured myself much like my almost 2 yr old son, winding up for the pitch, then flinging my arm with all of my might, only to have the ball drop straight to my feet or (more often than not) completely behind me. I was met with frustration as I looked to my feet, exhausted by my efforts; or with an illusion of joy, followed by confusion as I realized I had not, in fact, thrown the ball of my burdens. I had merely flung it, letting it land in my past, only to be tripped upon during another part of my journey.

As I prayed, I heard God lovingly speaking about a pitcher. He starts out just like every other two year old, throwing the ball behind him or off into the bushes. His dad joyfully fetches the ball every time and gives his son another chance. Eventually, the boy becomes more accurate in his throws. He builds strength and skill. As he trains, he learns from his mistakes and his successes. He learns to look into his catcher’s eyes rather than at his glove. They build a relationship through the process, even coming up with non-verbal cues that, though subtle to some, communicate pages and pages of information.

I was encouraged to realize that although I feel like that little two year old most days, my Heavenly Father is FAITHFUL to fetch those foul balls, give me another chance, and encourage me along. As I toss and fling and lob the ball of my burdens at Him, He is training me- ever so gently, but with such intentionality. All I have to do is trust Him- to look into His eyes and stay on the field. If I give in to frustration and turn in my glove, I will inevitably walk around with the weight of the world on my shoulders- a weight I was never intended to carry.

Thank you for posting- I will be chewing on this for a few days:)"

The Pooper Blooper...

Potty training. Ugh. It's not something I have been looking forward to. I had heard that boys usually seem to train a little later than girls, so I happily assumed Matthew would start at around two and a half or so... not at twenty months. The problem is that we live in a rent house with brand new carpet. I really hoped he would wait until he could communicate and follow instructions better, but he's such a fast learner... a visual learner... a task master. He gets things quickly and wants to try everything his big sister does.

And so, we retrieved the "froggy potty" from the attic... bought the Pull-Ups... and all boarded the Potty Train (as my daughter used to call it).

It's gone well so far. He's used the potty twice, and only had one accident in his clothes. We had a small poo-mishap in the hallway, but Resolve did the trick. I was reminded of why I hate Pull-Ups. They're terrible when toddlers poo and then decide to take them off. Naturally, they always run off and hide to go poop. That particular day, I didn't even know it had happened until he toddled into the kitchen to throw his Pull-Up in the trash, then turned and ran. The evidence was clear. It led to a horrific "crime scene" in the hallway.

Not too bad, though, overall. Today was tough. He refused to wear the Pull-Up most of the day. I found him naked several times, and had to clean up a few "spills" this afternoon.

But then we experienced what I like to call "The Pooper Blooper." No beating around the bush here. It's going to get dirty. If you're squeemish, don't continue. If you're curious and need a good laugh, read on. Hard to believe this all really happened, but I assure you, it did- and I have the spic n' span bathroom to prove it.

Here's how it all went down: Hubs and I were in the office. He was checking his email while I put tiny Thomas the Train Engines into their plastic bin. Matthew brought his potty chair into the office, which was no big deal. He carries it around sometimes (don't worry, I disinfect it constantly). We could see the kids out of the corners of our eyes, but didn't turn to really pay attention until Courtney said, "EEWWW!!! Matthew POOPED!"

To my horror, I turned to see my son sitting beside his potty chair with poo in his hand, smeared all over his foot, and scattered around him in little clumps. Poor guy was trying to take off his Pull-Up to sit on the potty, but he didn't make it in time.

I scooped him up, holding him face out with his legs in a V, somehow pinning his poopy hand down with my thumb- and I sprinted for the bathroom. Something warm hit my toe. Poop. It had fallen from him and lodged between my big toe and my second toe. I froze in my tracks and yelled in disgust. "AH! EWWW!! It's on my toe! Grooooooossssss!!!" Hubs ran to my aid with toilet paper and wiped my toe clean (My hero!). We all rushed to into the bathroom together to tackle Mr. Pooper. Hubs flushed the toilet paper while I looked for the baby wipes. "Get me towels!" he suddenly yelled.

The toilet was overflowing.

*SOMEBODY* had flushed a ton of TP down the toilet before we'd gone in there, so when Hubs flushed, water ran everywhere! The towel cabinet was empty, since we'd been swimming, so I put Matthew down and told him, "Don't move!" as water flooded the bathroom floor.

He held onto the cabinet with his clean hand, and held his poop-covered left foot up in the air, with a tiny piece of toilet paper stuck to his heel. The poor little naked boy looked up at me with those big blue eyes like an orphan being left out in the cold. I could read his face: "What? You're just going to leave me here like this???" I took a deep breath, swallowed my guilt, and ran to the dryer to fetch towels anyway.

After handing the towels to Hubs, I scooped Matthew back up and began wiping him down with wipes. Once he was somewhat clean, I put him down again and ran to the kitchen to get the Clorox Wipes so that I could start disinfecting as soon as possible. Hubs started the bath water.

Upon returning to the bathroom, I heard my husband's voice: "No, Buddy!" He plunked Matthew into the bath and informed me that our male child had, after all of this, decided to pee in the floor as he watched the tub filling with water. (I don't blame him- you know how it is.)

Poor Matthew looked stunned as I washed him (and washed him, and washed him) over the next 15 minutes or so. Thankfully, we got everything cleaned, disinfected and unclogged. I spent 20 minutes washing the tub, counters and floor once it was all over. Thankfully, the rest of the night went off without a hitch.

After his bath, I wrapped Matthew in a clean towel and handed him to his dad. I couldn't help but laugh to myself. Really? Had all of that just happened? Potty training is tough. It's frustrating, embarrassing, challenging and downright disgusting. But it's so worth it. I am reminded of this every time my four year old comes out of the bathroom, having pottied, flushed, and washed her hands without my help. Ahhhhhh. That gives me hope.

And so, I board the Potty Train once again for another day of great adventures. Who knows what tomorrow will bring?

Serving our families...

I went to a Ladies' Brunch at Christ Fellowship this morning featuring Judie Byrd. She is the host of "Judie Byrd's Kitchen", the founder of The Culinary School of Ft. Worth, and food editor of Ft. Worth, Texas Magazine. You can find her website here. She's an amazing woman, full of life and beaming with love for Jesus. She shared some great recipes, made biscuits right in front of us, and encouraged us as the managers of our homes to do everything we do for God, knowing that He is really the only One who will ever truly know and appreciate how much we stay-at-home moms do during our days.

She admonished us to step it up and stop just surviving through the days, but embrace the calling God has placed on us as caretakers to the precious families He has entrusted to us. She also reminded us that it's not our job to become a Martha Stewart clone, but to become the best of ourselves. It will look different for all of us- it doesn't make it wrong or right, because we're all wired differently- and that's a beautiful thing.

Judie gave us  a great Bible verse to think about as we go throughout our days: 1 Corinthians 15:58. It says, "Therefore, my dear brothers, stand firm. Let nothing move you. Always give yourselves fully to the work of the Lord, because you know that your labor in the Lord is not in vain."

I was thinking about that. What if I'm laboring all day for my husband? Trying to please him, to gain "points" per se with a clean house, home-cooked meal and happy children? My labor would be in vain. There is nothing wrong with cooking, cleaning or keeping the kids happy, but where is my heart in it all? Hubs can't reward me on the other side of eternity.

What if I'm laboring for my children? Trying to make home a fun place to be, somehow hoping that one day they'll brag to their friends that they had the greatest mom in the world, and working with all my strength to bring them happiness instead of disappointment? My labor would be in vain. My children aren't capable of bringing me glory in heaven.

What if I'm laboring to impress my parents? my inlaws? my *ah-hem!* blog readers? It's all in vain. When I stand before God on Judgement Day, and He asks what I've done with the life He gave me, He won't ask my parents, or my children, or my husband what kind of woman I was at home, or how I fulfilled the calling He gave me... He'll ask Jesus. And I want the eternal rewards that Jesus can give so much more than the temporary bliss of seeing all of the peole who click "LIKE" when I post my blog to Facebook.

And so I am reminded again today that all of the laundry, the toilet cleaning, the cooking and other chores that seem to depress me throughout the week are simply ways to serve and bless my family while obeying God. Even if no one ever steps up with a "thank you" (although I'm so glad that my hubs is great at saying Thanks when he notices the work I've done), I will bring God glory, pleasure and joy as I walk in obedience with a happy heart, doing what He's called me to do- to "bloom where I'm planted" (or so I've heard it put). So I'm on a mission to be more purposeful (note: purposeful does not mean perfect!) in taking care of my home- not just making it clean, but making it a great place to be, because when I worship God, the fragrance of His presence fills my home. And what better way to worship God than to obey Him with a cheerful and thankful heart?

So.... I had a little fun today as I thought of the different hats I wear as a stay-at-home wife & mom. There are so many more, but these are the few I could fit into my backyard, haha! Check out the pic below, You'll see Cooking Mom, Grocery Mom (although my re-usable "go-green" grocery bag is hidden), Cleaning Mom, Laundry mom, Dr. Mom, Teacher Mom, and Fun Mom. Thought for the week: How can you glorify God as you go about your day to day responsibilities?


By the way, have I ever mentioned how much I heart Photoshop?