Motherhood Archives - Page 6 of 12

February 28, 2013 by Karin Leave a Comment

Why Don’t You Play More?

His sky blue eyes peered up at me.

Mama, why don’t you play?

I looked up from my very important I-don’t-even-remember-what.

Play what, sweetie?

He slightly shrugged while the blond wisps of hair sheltered his puzzled expression.

You know, games.

Why don’t you play more?

Deep breath. My hand took his small chin and focused on this young precious son of mine.

I don’t know.

I should play more.

Could-a, would-a, should-a.

No good reason. Endless unimportant reasons.

Oh, I know why. I don’t play more so I can gather more stuff, arrange all the stuff, clean all the stuff, organize all the stuff, and do it all again the next day.

Do you ever feel like you spend your time chasing your tail? Then at the end of the day, you are mighty proud that you caught your tail for just a second, realized that you were in an impossible position ~ holding your tail, so you let go, and started chasing it all over again.

Isn’t this the way it is with the endless chores and to-dos? The must-dos and gotta-gos.

All the while, the little ones you love to the end of time are wondering why you don’t just chill out and play.

It is definitely easier said than done. We, after all, must care for, feed, wash, clothe, clean, teach, and on and on and on.

But, maybe, just a little more time should be made to play. Just play.

It’s something that I have struggled and wrestled with for over a decade of motherhood.

It’s easy to say,

Forget the dishes and spend time with your child.

Until the dishes begin to spill out of the sink onto the floor. Never mind all the other tasks, and chores, and places to go.

But… maybe… it’s not as complicated as it seems.

There is a time for everything. Everything important.

I read a study that stated that children only need 15 minutes of devoted one-on-one time per day.

15 minutes.

That’s it.

Some things just are more important than other things.

I dread the day I have a clean house… and silent rooms.

So, today… I will play.

Forget the mess. For just one day.

Embrace the little arms, pull out the toys, add to the mess… just play.

P retend you are that little kid again. It’s one of the gifts of motherhood. To be little again.
L eave the mess alone. It will be there tomorrow. We are here today.
A ppreciate the view in front of you. It doesn’t have to be perfect to be perfectly beautiful.
Y es. You can do this for one day. It is one day. One day is a long time for a kid… remember?

Psalm 33:3

Sing to him a new song; play skillfully, and shout for joy.

January 30, 2013 by Karin 2 Comments

When You Think Praying Is Like Buying a Lottery Ticket

It was 2:45 am.

That’s never a good time for the phone to ring.

It’s an emergency.

Her panicked voiced whispered over the line.

A precious little girl. My own 3-year-old’s best friend. A brain tumor. She’s only 3.

I don’t know how many times I’ve prayed for her. Countless. Add to that the countless times my little one has prayed for her bestie.

My sweet girl doesn’t understand of course. She just knows to pray.

Please help her to feel better, God.

Her mother’s voice over the line.

We need to take her to the hospital. She has spiked a fever.

We need help with the kids.

Fevers come and go in these growing bodies, but chemo and a shunt bring fevers to a new level of fear.

One of us will be right there.

I prayed that the words sounded calm and reassuring.

My warrior, bleary-eyed and solemn, dressed quickly, grabbed flight gear for the morning, and drove off into the freezing black night.

Now, I’ve prayed for many things in my life. I’ve prayed for the important, the trivial, the self-serving, the self-sacrificing. I’ve prayed most fervently for my children, my husband, my family and friends. I’ve begged for miraculous cures that never came. I’ve prayed for another’s change of heart, only to find my heart was the one needing change. I’ve prayed wordlessly. I’ve prayed desperately. I’ve prayed tear streaming sobs, and I’ve prayed worn tearless sorrow. I’ve prayed praise and thanks and disbelief. I have prayed.

Then, a flicker in my thoughts,

Do You hear them?

How do you pick the ones You will answer?

Will this one matter?

Stunned, I wondered, what if my prayer is like buying a lottery ticket?

Will this one win?

I pray, most of the time, for His will. But what if…

What if Your will is No?

What if Your will breaks these wounded hearts… again?

What if You don’t pick this one?

Why do I doubt Your good and perfect plan?

It was 3:30 am. Only a few hours until the bustling of breakfast. I picked it up… the Word He gives us. I prayed the emergency… 911.

I prayed Psalm 91 aloud in the darkness of my bedroom, illuminated only by the light from my phone.

You will not fear the terror of night, nor the arrow that flies by day… (Psalm 91:5)

I read the Psalm again and again, with each reading allowing the words to sink deeper and speak louder to my shivering soul. I prayed it for our precious little friend, I prayed it for my warrior, I prayed it for my children… I prayed and prayed. Then, the words…

“Because he loves me,” says the Lord, “I will rescue him; I will protect him, for he acknowledges my name. He will call upon me, and I will answer him; I will be with him in trouble, I will deliver him and honor him. With long life will I satisfy him and show him my salvation.” (Psalm 91:14-16)

I prayed it out loud and His words shot through my dense human shield.

He hears. He answers. The answer may live here or in eternal heaven… but He answers.

He answers because. I. Love. Him.

It’s not about every prayer becoming the winning pick.

It’s not a luck of the draw.

It’s not anything we can buy.

He picks me. He picks you.

He picks us because He loves us.

I win. We win. Every time.

He met me right there on that dark, bitter cold night. He soothed my fears and He answered.

The fever is due to a virus. It’s not oncology related.

Her weary daddy answered the next morning.

We are going home in a little while.

It’s going to be another one of those days.

Another day of answered prayer. This one pleasing our human wishes. This one allowing our hearts rest and calm.

I don’t know when the next one will be needed. We keep on praying. Praying for His will. Praying for His strength. Praying for His peace that transcends all understanding.

We pray.

He answers.

It’s not a lottery ticket.

It’s a gift that pays out for all eternity.

He already paid the price.

Job 36: 5,7

“God is mighty, but does not despise men; he is mighty, and firm in his purpose. He does not keep the wicked alive but gives the afflicted their rights. He does not take his eyes off the righteous; he enthrones them with kings and exalts them forever.

Karin signature

January 18, 2013 by Karin 2 Comments

What Are You Worth?

I am worth a load of something today.

Productive, productive, productive.

I’m a (recovering) people pleaser. I don’t particularly love that about myself.

Today, I pleased a whole mess of people. Most of them are under the age of 11. Nonetheless, they were pleased.

School work taught, play-time allowed ~ plenty of play-time, pies baked, floors swept, carpets vacuumed, laundry folded, lightbulbs changed, bottles filled ~ and re-filled, diapers changed, breakfast cooked, grilled cheese grilled, hotdogs broiled, dinner prepared, kitchen cleaned, children bathed… Mary Poppins ain’t got nothin’ on me today.

Productive super mom. (no such thing)

I am worth innumerable gifts, diamonds, vacations… you name it. I am worth it… today.

What about last November? I was flat on my back after surgery for a week, followed by pain for a month.

What about February two years ago? Again, flat on my back for two weeks with the flu and the most horrific ear infection… while pregnant.

What about all the other times I didn’t or couldn’t prove my worth?

People pleasing. A tough and foolish undertaking.

I spent much of my life, and honestly still do, trying to please people. We please our friends, our kids, our spouses, our parents, our bosses, our co-workers… please, please, please. PLEASE STOP!

So, my self-worth is defined by what I do for others. What about when I can do nothing?

Does that make me worthless?

Or maybe just a little bit less valuable?

All this doing, doing, doing.

You know what my kids like?

My little ones like it when I am just with them (and giving them popcorn and drinks…).

My girlfriends like it when we just hang out. My warrior just wants to spend some time… with me.

Sure, there are plenty of things, things, things to be done. The things never stop. Never. But, we will.

So, how do you define your worth?

Our worth has nothing to do with what we do, or whom we do it for.

Our worth doesn’t even come from what we do for God. He doesn’t need us to do for Him.

Our worth is one thing. Our worth is defined by only one… only One.

Not what we do, not who we are… but,

Whose we are.

We are His.

What am I worth? What are you worth?

Price paid.

Priceless.

Luke 12: 6-7

Are not five sparrows sold for two pennies? Yet not one of them is forgotten by God. Indeed, the very hairs of your head are all numbered. Don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows.

Karin signature

January 10, 2013 by Karin 6 Comments

One Good New Year Goal

It’s only 9 days into the new year.

The momentum of a turning calendar page rushes us into the new.

New goals, new ideas, new resolutions. Yes, new me.

This fire set and titled “I’m-finally-gonna-get-it-right.”

Only 9 days into the new year… and the fire is doused with reality.

All the lofty goals for time management, clutter reduction, quality kid time, dedicated husband moments… all the goals set in motion on day 1… have popped and fizzled. An ember remains.

Where did the fire go?

I was determined.

What happened?

Hanging on to the frayed ends of a the New-Year-Goal rope… it slips from the hand. Fingers left burning with the memory of the plan.

Is that it?

The big fail?

One bad day, bad moment… and that’s it?

We were running late. This is not necessarily unusual for mama and a sixpack. We were running late.

Then, the sight before me zoomed perspective.

Same old banter, same old breakfast, same old hurry up… hurry up… hurry up.

The ember, this ember of goals planned and unaccomplished… the ember ~ sparked.

This is where the goal is born. Not in dreams of perfect organization, perfect scheduling, perfect dates, perfect moments. The goal lives right here in the mess of it all. The goal to stop. Breathe. Enjoy. Live.

I. Did. Not. Yell. Now, I’m sure there are those who never raise a voice in the madness of a morning kitchen (or claim not to). For many of us, the words repeated in the hustle of a household… and repeated… and repeated, these words take on a life and drain every drop of goodness. These words take on a volume of their own, hastily followed by scowls, furrowed brows (we know these mama-lines etched between the eyes)… and finally, tears. The yelling begets… more yelling. Frustrating. Pointless. Crushing.

Today. Today was different. I did not yell. I knew the softening of my demeanor would calm the masses… and make us late.

So what?

So, we would be late.

Would this matter in 10 minutes? 10 hours? 10 years?

Nope.

Would my mama fury bring peace, teach love, enable joy?

Not so much.

What if the yelling stopped? What if the moment was just plain… lived?

We were late. The kids laughed. My heart rate slowed.

The joy was born.

The dear tutor looked up from the young faces peering into hers. Her eyes smiled at mine.

Oh, we are so happy to see you all are not sick. We’re glad you made it.

I grinned, trying to keep the disruption to a minimum.

I’m sorry we’re late. I decided not to yell today.

Wisdom-soaked eyes glistened at me from this mama soul with children’s children.

Good choice.

There it is.

The goal.

Yes, the organization, time-management, quality-togetherness goals are good. They are good, valid, honorable goals. There is one that trumps any of these giant leaps. One goal.

Soak it in. Let it be. Live it now. Stop yelling (yes, I know, much self-grace required).

Stop yelling.

Let the goals begin.

Proverbs 14:29

A patient man has great understanding, but a quick-tempered man displays folly.

November 11, 2012 by Karin 2 Comments

The Seventh Day

Sometimes a break is good.

I’ve heard it said… when you don’t know what to do… do nothing.

Of course, nothing is relative. The nothing I’m talking about is the pounding of keys. The spilling of words onto screen.

The laundry in my mind, a jumbled pile of whites, darks, colors.

A time to stop. And sort.

so on the seventh day He rested.

Not because He needed it, but to show us how to do it. Modeling for us, the determined workaholic, task-a-holic, chore-a-holic children of His. Demonstrating growth ~ through stillness.

Babies. They go through some of their most intense periods of growth… while they are sleeping. Growing, wears them completely out. And, they sleep. Smart little things.

We, sage grown-ups, on the other hand, plow through our exhaustion. Determined to get. it. done. Whatever it is. Knowing full well, that it is never really done anyway. Define insanity. Over and over and over again, we press on through weariness, burning eyes, blurred emotions, discombobulated thoughts. We press on… growing more and more wasted in our own skin. And, nothing changes. Clarity does not arrive at our doorstep. Peace does not show up. At the end of our endless tasks… the rest does not appear. Only more tasks. Insane.

He showed us how to put. it. down.

Rest.

A conscious decision to cease movement and tasks. It does not come naturally to us. Today’s people. There are endless distractions. We can easily fill in our own blanks with thing after thing after thing.

Then, one day, eyes open… and out of the cartoonish blur of fists, feet, frantic motion… flies a worn soul. Exhausted.

This is not His plan for us.

He knew we would need it. Not sometimes. But, every week.

so on the seventh day He rested.

He knew we would need this time to recharge, sort thoughts, soothe the soul. Just plain sleep.

Strangely, I find this practice of rest… requires practice.

Baby steps.

Learning how to rest. Baby steps… cues for this mama of 6.

R inger off. (on ALL devices. Just 1 hour. Then, build up time from there. To 1 day.)

E ngage with the kids. The spouse. The family. The friends. Just BE. In each other’s company.

S leep. Whenever the chance arrises and the eyes long for it. (even if a cat nap is all that can be achieved)

T ake a deep breath. Hold it. Breathe out. Repeat. Look around. All you see now is all that is real. Right now.

Now, I am off to rest… as He demonstrated and prescribed.

I pray rest for you. Rest.

Genesis 2:2

By the seventh day God had finished the work he had been doing; so on the seventh day he rested from all his work. And God blessed the seventh day and made it holy, because on it he rested from all the work of creating that he had done.

« Previous Page
1
…
4
5
6
7
8
…
12
Next Page »

Why Don’t You Play More?

When You Think Praying Is Like Buying a Lottery Ticket

What Are You Worth?

One Good New Year Goal

The Seventh Day

Meet Karin

Search the Sunrise

What I Write

Sunrise Archives

Pinning at Sunrise

Recent Sunrise Posts

Sunrise on Facebook