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August 4, 2012 by Karin Leave a Comment

What Now?

In three years…

In 3 years he’ll be 13, mama…

My seven-year-old proclaims, eyes wide.

those will be the hardest years of your life, you know…

when we are teenagers. 

My head snaps upright, as if released from a tight spring.

what?!

I laugh, looking at those huge, innocent eyes.  Thinking…

harder than this?!  

This sleepless blur of a decade, consumed with dirty diapers, hungry stomachs, endless chatter, excessive whining, midnight whimpers, instant destruction of a clean room, lost sippy cups, found sippy cups, tragically empty sippy cups (always in the car… in traffic).

This decade of mom boot camp.  What could be harder than this?

The wide eyes searching my face… after this statement of fact… known by all mankind.

the teen years

I shudder.  Five teenagers at the same time… and one pre-teen.  My head drops.

maybe I could just bury it in the sand… 

This observation from my little one just before a conversation with another mom.

it’s heavy when they get older… this time, when they are young, is just so physical… but as they get older… it’s more emotional… heavier

Her gaze wanders to a far away place… a place where guilt and fear and motherhood meet.  A place we enter with anticipation – remembering all the stories of those who have traveled there before us.  This place known to us only by memory.  Our own memories of this teen place.  Mine ~ a time between the carefree 1970’s childhood I long to recreate (in this not 1970’s world), and the 1990’s, when I flew into this wide open world.  Flew from the nest of my own parents.

Generation X and it’s big 1980’s hair, super cool synthesizer music, members only jackets, and leggings (oh, those are back…).  I was a good kid.  At least I think I was.  Like the others, I remember… it was all about me.  My parents had a clue… kind of.

will they know?  will they remember that I have a clue?

This coming decade of nights… as sleepless as the last… this time with heavier burdens.  The physical exhaustion that begs me to sleep at night ~ this will give way ~ to the worries that won’t allow my tired eyes to close.  I sigh.

How do I prepare for this?  I have the “preparing for baby,” “preparing for toddler,” “preparing for kid” routine down.  This rhythm has become part of my breath.  The flow of child years is so familiar and sweet to me.

This is what will bring me to my knees… asking God to lead me, as I lead them.

Isn’t that where we belong?

I remember bringing him home… my first little baby boy.

what now?

We looked at each other and wondered.  What do we do now?

The answer… the same… year after year…

Give thanks.  Pray.

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.

Filed Under: Motherhood

July 26, 2012 by Karin 2 Comments

How to clean the mess…

I have been frozen.  Stuck.  Searching.

Looking for the perfect words.  The perfect time.  The perfect idea.

There it is.  There is no perfect time.  Rather, every time is the perfect time.  The perfect time to act… to act love.  The perfect time to show love.  Show love ~ love in action.

When your day is a mess, your life seems a mess, your heart… a mess… do you find that you clean your house?  I do.  When I can’t seem to control all the stuff, all the mess around me… I clean my house.

there, that’s better

Nope.  Just a clean house.  The rest… it’s still pretty messy.

sigh

This the perfect time.  The perfect time to get my hands messy.  Turn my introspective eye… out.  Turn my eyes outward, to all the mess out there.  This is the perfect time to get into the mess and help clean up His house.  It’s all in His control.  That is not my job.  My job is to get my hands into the mess and help with the mess out there.  Of course, it begins at home.  I begin with my own little ones.  Love them, teach them… show them how to love, show them patience, kindness, mercy (easier said than done… practice, practice).  Show them how to get their hands messy, too.  The messy business of love.

My military husband, walks through the door… into the arms of squealing joy… 12 squeezing arms.  I smile to myself…

Two more…

His eyes wide.

What?

The thrill of jumping into the mess.  The thrill of a heart breaking for His own… of a heart breaking to open for more of His own.  Compassion for His own.  The eyes turn outward… the uncertain hands open to the mess out there.  A hopeful offering to be hands for Him.  We will touch 2 more.  Prayer and an offering from one soul to another.

When things are a mess… I clean my house.

Things, they are a mess…

People, places, they are broken…

Peer through the fence… open eyes, open hands.  We can help clean His.  One step at a time.  He will point the way.

 

James 4:17

Anyone, then, who knows the good he ought to do and doesn’t do it, sins.

Filed Under: Compassion

July 5, 2012 by Karin Leave a Comment

man in the moon

The sky lights up with each explosion.

The lights outline the innocent faces gazing with awe at the spectacular beauty above.

We are rendered speechless for a moment… caught in this moment.  One of the moments you wish you could capture and hold.  Wishing I could bottle this very time… tight.  I would hold it ready to release when the world seems to be just a little too much.

Spontaneously, with the crescendo of each dazzling light, the little ones jump up from the blankets stretched across the dewy grass.  They just can’t contain the joy.  The joy explodes from them with every eruption from the sky.  Squealing, spinning, dancing in the night to the light given only by the candles in the sky that celebrate our country’s birth.

this is a time to remember, mama

Yes, it is, my little one.  She knows this… even her youth sees the beauty of this place, right here.

My heart swells as I hear the whispers shared in the dark.  Sisters, arm in arm, wrapped in this moment.

I love you

I love you, too

The space carved out for us right  now… in this field… under the electric night sky.  They can’t help but pour out their love to one another.  It is a moment to joyously share this love.  Nothing seems more perfect than right now.

I smile.  There is something more perfect.  This must be a glimpse of what it must  be like.  Our home.  The place we were made for.  This joy.  This love.  Just a shadow of the glory that waits for us as we try to peer through the tiny holes in the night sky… pierced by each burst of light.  Straining to see through to the other side.

 

The display comes to a spectacular end.  The cheers are followed by a hushed gathering of blankets and children.  Smiles glow in the night light.  The light, I notice, is coming from the moon.

Stunning.

God displays His candle

The moon glows an orange I have only seen a few times in my life.

Mama, I’ve never seen the moon look like that!

I’ve never seen it look orange.  Oh, look!  You can see the man.  His face in the moon!

I have not seen the face on the moon clearly in my life.  Ever.  I really couldn’t make out the face I had heard about so many times.  Until now.  There it is.  Watching us.  I see it clearly tonight.  I have a thought.  I don’t have the thought alone.  We gather into the car… all eight of us.  (This is never a small feat).  We watch the moon.  The fireworks fizzling in the distance.

Mom, you know what the moon is making me think of?

Hm?  I smile to myself… knowing the thought I share with my child.

It’s making me think of God’s face watching us.

My son shares my thought.

He is watching us, you know.  He is always there.  Watching us.   

Unlike the glow of the face on the moon… He is only a breath away.  He is in our every moment.  Bottled inside.  Tight.  He’s holding us tight.  Watching our every move.  Knowing our every thought.  The moon just a flicker of His glorious light.

My youngest son, trying on his new word…

this night isn’t the best night ever…

it’s the epic – est…

It is that, my sweet little one.  It is Epic.

 

Revelation 21:23

The city does not need the sun or the moon to shine on it, for the glory of God gives it light, and the Lamb is its lamp.

Filed Under: Faith

July 4, 2012 by Karin Leave a Comment

God Bless America

Happy Birthday America!

Happy birthday from a military wife, daughter, and sister.  A woman and a mom who knows what it feels like to sacrifice for this most beautiful nation… while I watch my little ones just begin to understand sacrifice for a greater purpose.  Thanks to God for the gift of this great land and for the people He has put here to defend and protect her.

IT IS THE SOLDIER

It is the Soldier, not the minister
Who has given us freedom of religion.

It is the Soldier, not the reporter
Who has given us freedom of the press.

It is the Soldier, not the poet
Who has given us freedom of speech.

It is the Soldier, not the campus organizer
Who has given us freedom to protest.

It is the Soldier, not the lawyer
Who has given us the right to a fair trial.

It is the Soldier, not the politician
Who has given us the right to vote.

It is the Soldier who salutes the flag,
Who serves beneath the flag,
And whose coffin is draped by the flag,
Who allows the protester to burn the flag.

©Copyright 1970, 2005 by Charles M. Province

Let us all remember how we got here, who fights for us, and why our America was born.

God Bless America

Joshua 1:9

Have I not commanded you?  Be strong and courageous.  Do not be terrified; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go.” 

Filed Under: Military

July 3, 2012 by Karin Leave a Comment

Love first

Love first.

It seems to be a simple concept.  It is direct instruction to us.  Love God.  Love your neighbor.

Then why are there times that this loving thing comes with great difficulty?  We can feel the love.  I mean act the love.  Then there are those times, the times when we don’t feel the love quite as much… the times that the anger, the hurt, the fear of baring our vulnerable souls get in the way.  I don’t want to be in the way of His love.  How do I get out of the way of myself to love with His heart?

I’ve heard it said

I love you… I just don’t like you very much right now

I know I’ve been there a time or two ~ or ten.  Those times when I am at my wit’s end… done with chores, done with responsibilities, done with complaining, done with all the needing…

These are the times to wrap myself in love in order to wrap them in love.  This is when acting love is an act from God.

It’s easy to love when you’re feeling all warm and fuzzy… the chores are done without a whimper (does not happen, well sometimes on Christmas… or mother’s day), the schoolwork is done without a complaint (again, not so much), the children are holding hands while running through a field of flowers (ok, maybe on a beach… at the direction of a photographer).  It’s easy to overflow with love… when all is going well.  Acting love when it’s not so pretty… this is the tough one.  The most important one.  The one they’ll remember.  The love they’ll carry with them… and pass on.  It’s easy to love my children, my husband, my family, my friends… what about the ones that aren’t quite as loveable ~ through my eyes?  How do I teach my little flock to love the unloveable?

A heart for love during the most unloveable of times… I need His eyes.

Love when it’s not easy.

I want to love as I am loved.  I want to see others as Christ sees us.  

This is the tough love… the love that matters most.  This is the love that can only be done with the overflow of what He gives us.

I’ve let the thought of love tumble through my mind like a marble searching for the clearest path through the maze.

It is quite startling what you can see in another soul’s eyes when you ask God for a glimpse of how He sees.  Startling how the heart stirs at the glimpse.  The only way I know how to truly love my neighbor… my neighborhood of flawed human souls is to ask Him to fill me with it… and then get out of the way.  Just get out of His way.  This, a life long exercise.

The only way I know how to love so it matters is to see the eyes with His eyes.

Love first

As He loved me first

Before I ever knew Him.

To walk this walk, without tripping over myself, this is my prayer for today.  Get out of the way.  Yield to His way.  Love first.

 

1 John 4:19

We love because he first loved us.

 

 

 

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Meet Karin

Hi! My name is Karin Madden. Writer. Warrior wife. Mom of six pack. Homeschooler. German-blooded southerner. Welcome to the place where I explore what it means to grow stronger - spirit, soul, and body. I write to inspire and encourage - to remind you we are not alone. By being bold with grace and speaking truth in love, we can become who we are meant to be. I'm glad you are here.

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