Finding Faith in the Mess
Our kids need to feel, need to fail, and need to hurt. Taking this from them is one of the greatest travesties of our generation as parents. We are robbing our kids of an opportunity to grow, strengthen, build their character, empathize, believe in themselves, build the fight within their spirit, empathy for others, and so much more.
If I open my feed and see Momo one more time, I may take a hammer to my device. If you haven’t seen this terrifying puppet thing with a creepy and distorted Snap Chat filter, consider yourself lucky. It’s like a character straight out of …
I sat in my car and had a good cry. Sometimes a mama needs a good cry in her car. I hurt. I hurt for my kiddos and this world. I hurt for my boys’ friends and their mamas who I know have a good cry every now and again. Parenting is a charge I am privileged to walk out. This charge, however, can sometimes be completely overwhelming.
Before I spoke a word, You were singing over me
You have been so, so good to me
Before I took a breath, You breathed Your life in me
You have been so, so kind to me
Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God
Oh, it chases me down, fights ’til I’m found, leaves the ninety-nine
I couldn’t earn it, and I don’t deserve it, still, You give Yourself away
Oh, the overwhelming, never-ending, reckless love of God, yeah
When I was Your foe, still Your love fought for me
You have been so, so good to me
When I felt no worth, You paid it all for me
You have been so, so kind to me
Reckless love. Our kids need it. Us, parents, need it, too. Yet, we don’t always give it. Something in us evokes disdain before a reckless love. I want to change the narrative. I want to be part of a movement where instead of talking about how bad our kids are, we band together and be the village they need to become better adults then we ever were. I want to love my fellow parents (who are also trudging through the trenches) recklessly. Don’t you?
The other day I received a lengthy text. I had to reread it a few times so my brain could catch up with what my eyes were reading. It took my breath away. While I know my children aren’t perfect, I couldn’t believe what I read. It was like I knew my kid and I didn’t know this person I was reading about even though they were one-in-the-same. I was, and still am, so very grateful for that text. I was naive and needed to be made aware. My son also needed his parents to know the truth about him so we could be better parents.
Our kids, they are hurting. They are trying so very hard to fit in; to be loved. No matter how good your child is, no matter how upstanding or respectful, they have a yearning to be loved and will do extraordinary things to attain that love. Even if they are believers, they don’t have the full capacity to understand their value lies in God not others. Most are willing to sacrifice their character in order to just fit in.
Here’s what I know: our kids need our reckless love; especially when they mess up. They need to know they are loved, period. They need to be reminded (continuously) that we are proud of them just because they are our kid. They also need to know that you will fight for them: that you will battle the darkness that is this world on their behalf showing them that there is a better way.
Reckless love. They yearn for it. Be the one who gives it to them. Because if you don’t, someone or something else will.
Don’t be so quick to dismiss. Don’t be so quick to judge. Don’t be so quick to think, not my kid. I see it all over social media. I hear it when I go to coffee and overhear other moms chatting. I hear it in the stands at our kids’ games. I hear it at Target. And so do our kids. We are so quick, too quick, to talk poorly of the parents and, sadly, of the kids. Look, our kids are just that: kids. It is up to us to be the guiding force and guiding light in their lives. We lose our authority in their lives when we belittle their friends and the parents of their friends. We are no longer a safe place and quickly become just like the rest of the crowd.
It is up to us to be the guiding force and guiding light in their lives
Be the village. Be the mom who calls the other mom out of concern and love not out of judgment and fear. Be the mom who understands that even though you may not hear or see that behavior, it is occurring and your kid needs your love and guidance.
Reckless love. It is a necessity. Our kids are longing for it. And so is the parent sitting next to you. None of us deserve a reckless love. No one can earn a reckless love. Yet, when we were a foe, He still loved us. If we are privy to such a love, we must be that much more willing to give it all away.
Reckless love. They yearn for it. Be the one who gives it to them. Because if you don’t, someone or something else will.
Love & Blessings,
Meg
Being a mom is the greatest gift. It can also be the most difficult task you’ve ever faced. From joy to frustration, excitement to panic, pride to worry, motherhood brings so many emotions. I watched some mama’s send their kids off to a weekend away. …
When we first decided we were going to move to Texas twelve years ago, my husband and I hopped on a plane and flew to the Lone Star state to check it out. We’d drive the communities we were interested in and begin planning and dreaming. We came across a little sleepy town just north of Dallas. My husband loved it. This girl? Well, I was a little apprehensive. You see, coming from Southern California, I was used to having neighbors and everything at my discretion. I was worried about the traffic I would encountered trying to get to Target on the two-lane country road and that I would be lonely because I would have cows instead of people for neighbors. Little did I know that we would eventually move to that little sleepy town.
After settling down and creating roots in Texas, we decided to move again. We needed something different; something that fit our family at this stage of life. I remember we would drive around before our date nights trying to find that perfect neighborhood. We kept coming back to the one with the lake. I mean, what boy wouldn’t love a lake and dirt trails to play in? It was perfect for our family. We walked the model home a few times and while my husband bought the house for the lot, I loved two things about the house: the playroom was tucked away upstairs (Say goodbye to hearing noisy boys 24/7) and this little sitting room right off the master.
Oh, I had BIG dreams for that little room. And dreams they were. Who was I thinking that I would ever use that room given the fact that I had a 2, 3, and 6 year old at the time, let alone sit down? I loved that room. It was mine. And after sharing my body and my space with so many boys for so long, I was ready to have something all my own; even if that meant I never sat there.
Flash forward a few years and the boys were finally in school. I found myself sitting in that room a little more. I’d sit and read, do my Bible study, and take a quick snooze on the little love seat. Anything to get in that space. There was something magical when I was in there. Maybe it was a place where I could finally breath. A place that was girly and held my visions. Little did I know, this room was going to be a place where I launched a dream.
It’s funny how God starts stirring in your soul way back when and you had no idea He was even working in that moment. When we decided to build this model, that little sitting room was a sweet dream coming to life. I could see all my visions pinned to a board in the closet space. This room was a nod to opportunity for me even though I had no idea what that opportunity was.
Here I sit, five years later, in that little sitting room. Dreams have been birthed in this space. Tears shed. Passions launched into reality. I walk by my room, look inside, and sigh. God knew all along. He knew before we broke ground and put up the walls what this space would hold for me. He saw my dream before it was planted in my soul and He gave me this space to discover it.
Anytime I feel discouraged in this process, I remember the room. I remember that He saw what was to come for me before I even gave light to the idea. He spoke something in me before it was even a thought on my radar. He has great plans for me and that little room. I know because I am living it.
He has great plans for you, too. Plans you cannot envision for yourself today because it is not time for them to be revealed. Remember all those years ago I thought I would never sit in that space. The life before me during that time did not permit it. Motherhood to three babies called for my attention instead. He knew, however, and He saw what I couldn’t see. I was blinded by diapers and potty training and trips to and from preschool. I was busy and distracted in that season, all the while, God was preparing a place, that room, for me to live out a dream. He’s doing the same for you. Don’t lose hope.
“For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.” Jeremiah 29:11
Love & Blessings,
Meg
I bawled my eyes out pulling away after dropping my babies off at sleep-away camp. I couldn’t wait to get to FaceTime my oldest while he was on his missions trip. The fish died and I couldn’t resurrect him. On the first day of school. …
My childhood summers were spent in Southern California. We spent our days barefoot and outside. We didn’t come inside until we heard our moms yelling our names or the street lights came on. We explored, ran around in the street of our cul-de-sac, and road …
<FLASHBACK FRIDAY>
I am a recovering perfectionist. Weeellll, I can’t honestly say I’m recovered, but I am working on getting there. I did have to do about a bazillion things and get them all perfectly in order before I could sit down and write today. So there’s that.
I have always chased perfection. Ever since I was little, I have had a longing for everything to be in its place; including my life. My lovies had a particular place on my bed. The knick-knacks and barbies all had a home. When I got married, my husband used to mess with my throw pillows because I had to have them in a certain order. I usually can’t sit down until everything is picked up and put away. When something in my life goes wrong, I react illogically and emotionally and typically clean and organize like a mad woman. It’s my fantasy for control.
Perfection is not attainable this side of Heaven.
I was on a walk admiring the scenery around our town lake. Everything grows naturally. There are so many types of plants, bushes, and trees. The turtles sun-bathe on the logs floating in the water. It’s gorgeous. Some people would love to see the landscape a little more manicured. I like it a little wild which is in contrast to how I like my life. Neat and tidy vs. wild and unruly. I enjoy the lake disorderly and overgrown. My life? Not so much.
As I exited the trail, I thought about my boys. I thought I wanted perfection for them. But, I don’t. Perfection isn’t reality. I want them to live life, make mistakes, and experience reality. I don’t want them chasing something that they will never find. I want them to grow naturally, like the foliage around the lake. It is in that wild growth where beauty blossoms.
We desire to protect our children. We long to keep them safe and cushion them from getting hurt knowing that our hearts will shatter just as hard as theirs, if not more. But, when I look back at my journey, I see a slew of mistakes and bumps in the road that made me who I am today. My mistakes and the twists and turns of life taught me, humbled me, challenged me, made me stronger, shifted perspective, shifted directions, and taught me more than I would ever had known had I lived a sheltered life. I don’t want my boys to hurt, but I do want them to learn.
“Not that I have already obtained it or have already become perfect, but I press on so that I may lay hold of that for which also I was laid hold of by Christ Jesus.” Philippians 3:12
Perfection isn’t reality until eternity. If I convince my sons that they can live a perfect life than I am preventing them from wanting more for themselves, for their friends, for their families, for the strangers they meet. I don’t want to limit them by sheltering them from imperfection.
I look at the trail down by the lake seeing the untamed landscape and am reminded that life grows there. Life expands in all its twists and turns and knotted limbs. Sometimes, there is overgrowth that needs to be trimmed back or weeds that need pulling. But, that’s where experience happens and wisdom matures.
I want life for my kids (and myself), not perfection. I will (slowly) give them wings as they filter out this life being there to help them trim back the impassable trail and pull out the stuff that’s choking them down. I will remind them that they were meant for more: their longing is a longing for eternity where perfection will meet them at the gates. For now, however, I will teach them to embrace the longing for perfection and not to shy away from the imperfect because that’s where Jesus resides. I will show them my scars and allow them to see that mommy, too, lives an imperfect life. We will trudge along together on the path where the terrain runs wild and free learning, growing, and searching for the only One that can bring us true perfection.
Love & Blessings,
Meg
