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November 19, 2013 by Karin 21 Comments

The One Word I Want To Leave With My Children

Four plus decades.  That’s what I am today.

On this birthday I will pack up a crew of six and prepare for the cross-country journey – back to the place this life’s story began.

The same house, the same streets, the same small red church that marks the turn.

We’ll load up our six pack, and my warrior and I will travel to the place it all started.

This time I am taking two small items I plan to use to capture memories in motion.  A video and a voice recorder.

My parents, they have a million stories – about war-torn youth, Nazi evil, and the ravages of cruel governments.  They have stories about siblings, and families, and grandparents.  They have stories about all the people I never knew… or have only met a handful of times.  These stories are the roots of us.  I suppose at some point in time we all want to see our roots…

I listened to them when I was just a kid, but who really pays attention then?

And, now, I hope the memories return to a fading mind.

I want to capture every word.  Wrap the words in writing and pass them on to my own little ones.

We really shouldn’t ever forget where we come from.  No matter how pretty, or heart-wrenching, the picture.

It’s our stories that bring Him glory – in the end.  Our stories are His story – from the very beginning.  Even when we don’t see.

Six pack on the beach

Their story will come… I will take the gray shades of life and etch them into black and white.  The words will never cover a life, but they will leave a map.

A map for my own to follow – tracing back… in order to move forward.  Never forgetting.

But, today… well, it’s my day.  It’s my birthday.

And sometimes the details don’t really matter all that much.  Sometimes there is just one thing you want to leave behind.

Sometimes it only takes a few words to cover a lifetime of things we wish we could do… or undo.

Sometimes it’s just one word that we want to burn into their hearts.

Sometimes the words we write… are the words we need to read.

This… this is what I want to leave with my children.

A Letter To My Children

I want to tell you it’s ok.

It’s ok if you forget. It’s ok if you don’t understand. It’s ok that you said what you said that time.

I want to tell you that I know.
I know how much you love me.
I know how frustrated you were sometimes, and that you wondered if anyone- especially mom -understood.
I know that you didn’t mean what you said that time. Or the other time, either.

I want you to see that I have felt the same way.
I have thought the same thoughts.
I have made the same mistakes.
I have wished my youth away… and then wished I could go back.

I wish I could go back.
I wish I could go back and listen to my parents all over again.
I wish I had paid better attention.
I wish I had asked more questions… and listened to the answers.

I remember some of the stories and wish I could listen to them again.
I remember the places we went.
I remember the meals Mom cooked.

I wish I could remember more.
I wish I knew where those places were.
I wish I knew the recipe for that one meal… and the other ones, too.
I wish I could sit in Mom’s lap, and listen to Dad’s stories.

I know what you are thinking.

You wish you could go back, too.
Stop.

Here is what I want you to remember.
This is what I want you to know.

I love you no matter what has happened.
I love you no matter what words and deeds you have thrown out there.
I love you even if you don’t come home enough.
I love you even when you are too busy.

I love you and it’s all ok.

This.  This is what matters.

Believe.

No matter what people say to you.
No matter what they say about you.
No matter if they call you delusional, or gullible, or foolish, or wrong.

They will, you know.
They will make you doubt.
They will make you wonder.
They will tell you that God is a fake.

They are wrong.
Know this.
I have heard His voice.
He hears mine every time I place your names in His hand.

He hears you.

Believe.

Stick with the ones who believe with you.
You need each other.

Be kind to everyone.
Even when they are not kind to you.
You represent Him.
It’s a big job.  He is a big God.

He can handle your doubt.
Your anger.
Your fear.
Your questions.
Your mistakes.  Even the ones you make again and again.
He has you in the palm of His hand.

Believe.
I do.

So, when you begin to regret, and wish, and want to go back.
Stop.
Go Forward.

Time here is brief.
Make the most of it.
We, my babies, have forever.

 

Love ~ to infinity and back,

Mom

 

John 14:1-3

Do not let your hearts be troubled.  You believe in God; believe also in me.  My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you?  And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am.

Karin signature

Filed Under: Faith, Family, Motherhood Tagged With: believe, faith, motherhood, one word for my kids

October 24, 2013 by Karin 12 Comments

When We Begin To Get Over Ourselves

31 days of Good Deeds 31 Days of Good Deeds

(click here for the series)

~ Day 19 ~

I’ve been a mother for 12 years today.
Really, though, motherhood began 9 months before that (ok, we all know it’s actually 10).  When you carry the weight of the future on your bladder for any amount of time, you know the exact amount of time.  Down to the very minute.

What I didn’t know… the weight of the future was the very thing that would begin the release of the weight of my selfishness.

Motherhood.  The vessel He uses to get us over ourselves.

We enter into this place with a million preconceived notions of how we will play this whole thing out.  We step through the door holding this perfect breath from God and we think we might have a clue.  This is where it all begins.  We have no idea.  The thoughts in our minds give way to the crashing wave of pure love.  This love washes any idea of who we think we are… away.  We come face to face with someone we want to die for – again and again.  But, first, we have to die to ourselves.  And this is the rub.

The battle – my thoughts, my ideas, my wishes, my dreams collide… with His.

Holding tightly to the holy moment of birth is just the beginning of letting it all go.

This is when our hearts begin to take residence – outside of our bodies.  With each baby, over and over again, we die to ourselves… and open up to Him.  Only God would begin this slow and often painful death to our selfish natures through the birth of something so breathtakingly exquisite.  New life wrapped in the sweet aroma of innocence cradled in our unsuspecting arms.  The best of us is yet to come.

Sometimes, though, he lets us begin our journey into selfless love much earlier.  Sometimes He allows to exercise these muscles of you-before-me when we are much younger.  Perhaps even as young as 11… soon to be 12.

And, sometimes He surprises this unsuspecting mama with a story of an unselfish good deed.  A good deed that mama didn’t have to prompt or prod or produce.  Sometimes He lets us know we are doing this motherhood thing a little bit right.

It's always better with two

I was away on a trip (a small miracle in itself, thanks to my gold-hearted warrior).  Dad decided to take our six pack to a carnival.  The bravery in that task is another story entirely.

The pumpkins, rides, and treats thrilled this young crew of ours.  Most of all, of course, the rides and slides were mission number one.

Tickets bought, treats ingested, it was time.  The kids rode and squealed and lived it up.

Our four-year-old discovered quickly that some thrills look better from the ground up.

It’s too scary! I don’t like it!

Our red-headed summer warrior shrieked.

Sometimes bravery is just knowing what you’re not ready for.  And saying so.

Tickets dwindled and energy faded.

With only a handful of tickets left to thrill these little ones, my warrior offered them one more ride.

The big kids, ready to tackle the most thrilling ride, grabbed their chance and took off.

Our normally brave little summer girl exclaimed,

But, I want to go on those swings. I’m too scared of that ride.

Daddy stood holding the baby, knowing the only way she would go was with a companion.  We don’t really want to go this alone, do we?  It’s always better with two.

The kids want to ride that one, sweetie.

Then, the part that bursts a mama heart.  All these years of do-this-don’t-do-that-be-nice-share-love-each-other.  All the refereeing of siblings.  All the times of it’s-not-about-you.  Then, this one time.  It takes root… and I wasn’t even there.  I can’t take credit (but, I can give plenty to my warrior).  I can’t even begin to think it had anything to do with what I told my boy to do.  He just did it.  And my heart explodes.

I’ll go with her, dad.

C’mon, little sister, I’ll take you on the swings.

Now, the swings… they go round and round, not up nor down.  Pretty lame for an 11, almost 12-year-old.

They spun in circles, she squealed with glee, and my heart melts.

We teach and train and cajole and plead.  We bark and bellow and beg.  We hold and hug and pour ourselves out… day after day.  Then, God.  He gives us a glimpse.  A momentary whisper of,

Job well done.

The pouring out… from a big brother to a little sister.  This.  

This whole new soul dying to self and giving to love.  And my heart wholly fills.

 

2 Thessalonians 3:13

And as for you, brothers, never tire of doing what is right. 

Karin signature

Filed Under: A Day in the Life, Brothers and Sisters, Family, Good Deeds, Love, Motherhood, The Good Stuff, Together Tagged With: dying to self, family, motherhood, siblings

October 24, 2012 by Karin 2 Comments

Mine are Yours (#24)

PROMISE #24 ~ RAISE THEM FOR HIM, AND THEY WILL NOT TURN FROM HIM

When did it happen?

I remember turning around to a tiny toddler grabbing onto my sweats and pulling.

Big blue eyes, plump cheeks, perfect bow-shaped lips smiling up at me…

I remember the sleepless nights (actually, those have carried on for years, by no fault of his).

I remember the small basket of brand new baby toys, new cups, only one or two strollers parked in the garage.

I remember the way he touched my face as he nursed.

I remember him running down the sidewalk, mama chasing after him with baby sister jiggling along in the stroller.

I remember his itchy skin, victim to eczema and food allergies.

I remember the giggles, the shrieks, the temper tantrums of a little baby growing into a boy body.

When did it happen?

I look over and see a boy, whose height has grown to my chin.

I see a boy whose humor makes me laugh… really laugh.

I see a boy who snuggles little siblings.

I see a boy who races with a sister grown from the bouncing baby in the stroller.

I see a boy who chases and tackles and knows more about football stats than any adult I know.

I see a boy who reads novels, writes poetry, wrestles with daddy.

I see a boy who is adored by five younger than he.

I see a boy, whose eyes look at weary parents, and begins prayers for sleepy children.

I see a boy whose arms wrap around mama every morning.

I see this baby grown to boy… this boy growing toward manhood…

and I wonder…

When did this happen?

Kissing the top of the burrowing blonde head….

I cling just a little longer…

Happy birthday to my first-born… the small soul growing older, bigger… growing towards Him.

Branded to mama’s heart…

 

PROMISE #24 ~ Raise them for Him and when they grow they will not turn from Him.

 

Proverbs 22:6

Train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.

 

Filed Under: Brothers and Sisters, Faith, Family, God's Promises, Motherhood Tagged With: birthdays, faith, God's promises, motherhood, raising them for Him

October 18, 2012 by Karin 2 Comments

Forgiveness… follow suit (#18)

PROMISE #18 ~ FORGIVENESS

Truckload full.  Tummies hungry.  Tired eyes.

Late afternoon… nearing the end of a busy day.  Just the beginning of the 5 o’clock somewhere moments.

Mom, can we stop and get a treat?

Pleeeease!

Frustration in this mama soul rears its head.  An attempt at taming this tongue.

No, we need to get home.

Baby needs to get to bed and your little sister doesn’t feel good.

Determination… full force… from this generally agreeable, gentle-spirited, gem of a girl.

Persistence.

Pleeeease Mom!

My tongue losing its restraints… loosening the reigns… allowing a sword’s slice.

No!

And on and on and on… the battle ensues.

Fellow passengers grumbling, weary, wanting the ride to end.

Now, I know the root of the battle is hunger, weariness… the need for rest.

Truck load… unloads.

Piling into the house of kids, bags, books, banter.

This worn child scurries to her room.  Tears free-flowing in solitude.

Mama feeds bellies, calms the boisterous… now, off to discipline.

Mom, I’m so sorry I acted that way.

I nod, repeating the words right back to her.  Wild tongue reigned in again.

You know, we all do that sometimes.  

You are forgiven.

I am sorry, too.

Thinking the deal is sealed, mama squeezing love into this young soul… and off to carry on with mama tasks.

Not so much.  Not done.

Mama, I’m really sorry…

Red-eyed and puffy she comes to me again.

I am just so sorry for acting that way.  I know better.

I wrap arms around in attempt to press out the remorse… allowing room for the new.  Filling the hole with love.  With learning.

Mama, please help me forgive myself.

There it is.  Right there.  The thing that holds us back too many times.  The thing that keeps us from filling our gaping wounds with His love, His forgiveness, His redemption.

We just can’t… won’t… forgive ourselves.

We hang on, with ragged heart, ripe wounds, plain old refusal.  Refusal to give it to Him… and even more… refusal to accept His forgiveness.  All this… by refusing to forgive ourselves.

You know what, my sweetie?

 I forgive you.

More importantly… God forgives you.

Every time you ask for it.  Every.  Time.

Giving a regretful heart to the Healer.  Not the easiest thing to do… not without revisiting it again and again.

An encouraging hug for my little one’s soul…

If God forgives you… for everything…

and He wants you to be more like Him…

shouldn’t we follow His example?

Follow suit with Him.  Clear the river flow of Holy water… to run freely once again.

The child eyes… new again.

 

PROMISE #18 ~ God forgives us.

 

Acts 10:43

All the prophets testify about him that everyone who believes in him receives forgiveness of sins through his name.

Filed Under: Faith, Family, Forgiveness, God's Promises, Grace, Motherhood Tagged With: faith, forgiving yourself, God's promises, motherhood

September 4, 2012 by Karin 2 Comments

When you feel like you have royally screwed up

I looked at my warrior, over dirty dinner plates, whining children, and the mess of the day…

it’s one of those days when I feel like I’ve royally screwed up

He smiles the understanding only the other half of this parent pair could smile…

yep

The day outlined with the best of intentions… the planning of a birthday party, the gathering of school supplies, the minutiae of motherhood.  Wham!

the best intentions come crashing down

Grumbling off to the errands… four tethered along.

what, they can’t be apart from mama for one second?

I have stuff to do.  I can’t think straight while I’m lassoing kids

A (mild) mama temper tantrum.  I’m smoldering on the inside… wounding with my glares.  The older they get… the more they get the glares.

the expectation is what ruins the reality

I mention this to my oldest girl ~ she, nodding understanding, with a sheepish grin.

I’m sorry I was grumpy

She smiles…

I’m sorry I whined

Ah, but that wasn’t the end of  it all.  The day slid along, with more whining, crying, discontent.  Just one of those days when there is at least one someone… who has nothing good to say.  Sigh.

The end of this day.  What did we get right?  Well, maybe not much today… but the confirmation comes at night… at prayer time.  (prayer time ~ I suppose that is one thing we did get right).  The confirmation, not through words… not through perfectly met expectations…

The confirmation comes from my oldest… during prayer time… my oldest son, almost eleven… curls up in my lap… just to love his mom.

I suppose I haven’t royally messed up… I suppose we are doing ok

Keeping the focus on the right One

Coming back for a fresh start…

Ending the day with His plans, not mine.

To begin again, with Him, tomorrow…

Matthew 6:33-34

But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well.  Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about itself.  Each day has enough trouble of its own.

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Filed Under: Love, Motherhood, Patience Tagged With: love, motherhood, Patience

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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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