To my kiddos on Mother's Day,

Nothing could've ever prepared me for the complexities of motherhood. No class, no heart-to-heart, no blog, no workshop, no book. As much as the words of others who had walked the path before me might have encouraged me (maybe, really, more like frightened me...)  they could not fully prepare my soul for the beautiful, challenging, messy time that awaited.

You think that Mama knows it all...that I am so very old...so much older than you. Can I tell you a secret, kids?

Truth is, Mama is really just a kid herself. I am relatively new to this whole motherhood gig. 9 years ago my first babe was still tucked away inside my womb, cozy and safe from the world. My tummy was her whole world. But that was only 9 years ago...I haven't been a Mama very long.

I know you kids think I have all the answers...I guess in some respects I do. I am the one, after all, who answers every. single. question. All day, every day.

But really, I'm learning as I go.

Newsflash: I have never been a Mom before. I didn't get a four year degree in motherhood and fulfill an apprenticeship before the first of you was placed into my waiting arms. There was no practice, no rehearsal, no training to prepare for what I now spend my every day doing. That's hard for you to even imagine though, at 8, 5, 3 & 1. I am all you know of motherhood.

I adore being your Mama. It is by far the absolute hardest task I have ever been entrusted with, by goodness...it is worth it. There is no greater joy than the exhausting work of loving your little lives up in The Lord. The daily feeding of your bellies and your souls is so daunting...but so incredibly beautiful.

I am learning moment by moment that a life laid down most closely resembles My Savior. So I lay mine down again and again...and fight for joy in the midst of the selflessness He asks of me.

When the four of you are grown, and sit around talking about your childhood..sharing stories, laughing and perhaps shedding a tear for the hurts...I pray that you give me grace. I hope you can see the woman who was trying to raise y'all to love The Lord, to love others...I hope you know I tried my very best. You will know better than any other people on this earth (besides your Dad) that I am a far cry from a perfect person. I get angry, I get ugly, I loose my patience, I get frustrated, I say rude things, I am a flawed woman...fighting minute by minute to choose joy in the chaos and selflessness in my self-centered desires.

 I pray that you can see me for the woman that is beneath the title of Mama...that you might love and respect even, the way I have loved you.

While I'm not perfect, hopefully you can see Jesus in me. He is my strength, He is my hope. He continually draws me back to Him...softens my easily hardened heart...helps me grow into the Mama y'all need me to be. I hope you will see, through my mistakes, through my missteps, that if Jesus loves your Mama with an unrelenting love, He surely loves you just the same.

I am trying, at the nudging and reminding of The Spirit to be an intentional Mama. To peer into the future and consider the lovely, strong, intelligent, compassionate, selfless adults y'all are going to become. As I picture these grown ups I have yet to meet, yet already know, I think about how my daily interactions are forming or destroying who you each are called to be.

I tell your Dad frequently, "Isn't it so cool that we are raising our future best friends?! I mean, it's kinda crazy, right?"

It is crazy. It is cool. I pray that it becomes reality.

By God's goodness I won't botch the whole thing.

I trust that He will fill in the gaps your Dad and I will undoubtedly leave.

I love you four more than any words could do justice. You are my greatest work, my greatest gifts. I am incredibly grateful to be your Mama, and I thank you for loving me.

Please be patient with me, I will be patient with you (it's your first time to do the kid-growing-up-thing too, after all)...as we continue to grow up together, day by day. Thankful to be journeying with you.

love,
Mama

every day good

When my brothers and I were growing up we fought often, as siblings do. Sometimes it was a wrestling match, resulting in carpet burns on elbows and knees. (Pretty sure I brought that upon myself a time or two by pressing the power button on the Nintendo, being threatened to keep holding it in until they finished their game...then letting go and running for my life.) Other times it was a water fight when our parents had left us home alone. (Picture 3 kids, squirt guns, spray bottles and cups of water...chasing each other all over the house, slamming and locking doors, slipping and sliding.) And of course, frequently, our fights were a battle of words.

As we would argue, things usually progressed to the place where we were just shouting the same things over and over again. The only thing that changed was the volume, as it increased layer by layer. The tone of our arguing was usually much uglier than the actual words we were spitting out. By the point that we had exhausted all our venom, one brother, who will remain nameless, would yell vehemently, "CONVERSATION OVER. I WIN THE CONVERSATION. I WIN!" 

And with that remark, he would storm off. 

It was maddening to be on the "losing side". With that one statement, everything I had been trying to express had just been wiped away...I had been dismissed. Even though our "conversation" had been less than polite, it was declared over without my consent...and to add a dash of insult, I had "lost", which meant none of my words had carried any weight at all.

Why is it we so desperately want to be RIGHT...all the time? It must be ingrained deep within us, this desire to win. 

As I've watched the social media world unfurl in the past year, I've noted a lot of "winning". The area I have particularly seen it rear its ugly head, is tragically, within our Christian communities. Boy, do we like to win. We like to gather our evidence, line up our points then bash/correct/condemn/talk down to anyone who happens to listen. 

We have become Jesus Lawyers. 

We gather facts, build our cases then present our information. It morphs from information sharing (or "sharing the truth" as we like to call it) to beating others up with our words. We become the prosecutor and defendant all at once. It is US against THEM...and we will most definitely WIN this conversation.

Is this what Christ called us to be? His legal defense team? 

"Do not judge, or you too will be judged. For in the same way you judge others, you will be judged, and with the same measure you use, it will be measured to you."

Matthew 7:1-2

The Word of God is radical enough, it is alive and like a double edged sword. The Word of God is the sword...it alone can pierce and then make new the hearts of man. The Word of God does not need a Jesus Lawyer to defend it or to prosecute those who don't believe. 

What if...instead of being Jesus Lawyers, we were simply Jesus Lovers? 

What if...we become so enamored with our Savior that the only thing that pours out of us is love?

What if...we cared more about loving Jesus, and living like him?

As I reflect on the magnificent gift that was given us, as Christ laid down His very life for us...poor, wretched sinners...I can't help but think that what He wants from us in return is to be Jesus Lovers.

He loved us enough to sacrifice himself on our behalf...He takes our sins, our burdens and carries them.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 

For my yoke is easy and my burden is light."

Matthew 11:28-30

Today is Good Friday. When we live as Jesus Lovers, every day is a good day indeed.

"For me, to live is Christ and to die is gain."

Philippians 1:21

There's where we win...we lose ourselves, our need to defend, to be proven right...and we gain the peace and love of Christ. Yes please, Lord.

Uncovering

As 2013 drew to a close, and a new year started, I read a book that messed me up. In that good way.

"Uncover the art you were born to make. 

There's a reason I chose the word uncover. It's because our image-bearing identity is already true. But we often cover it up with discouragement. doubt, practicality, or excuses.

Instead of setting off on a journey to find your art, consider staying right where you are to uncover your art. Like the tree with roots crawling deep into the ground, God has already done the work of putting his art within you. I believe he's asking us to do the work of uncovering what is already true and trusting him to release it for his glory and the benefit of others."

-Emily P. Freeman, A Million Little Ways

"You want to know the meaning of life? This is your highest calling: You are called into the dynamic co-creation of the cosmos. This breath is your canvas and your brush. These are the raw materials for your art, for the life you are making. Nothing is off limits. Your backyard, your piano, your paintbrush, your conversation, Rwanda, New Orleans, Iraq, your marriage, your soul. You're making a living with every step you take."

-Jon Foreman (taken from A Million Little Ways)

I wrestled with those words...and I realized that I have been ignoring mine.

My life is pretty well wrapped up in the ongoings of our family. Sure, I take care to go on dates with my husband, to get together with friends and have "me" time every once in a while...but am I fully living out who I was created to be? Or am I just really good at wearing all the hats, balancing all the roles that I am super blessed to be in...without ever thinking twice about what God might want me to uncover.



Freeman suggests looking back into our childhood as a way to reconnect with the art we were created to make. So I did. I thought back through the years that held my most physically awkward times (oh my...that's putting it so very lightly), but also years that I was growing into me. I was exploring who I would become by fully embracing the way God had created me.

Little me was really cute. 

Words were so very important to me. I read every book I could get my hands on...Babysitters Club to my school library's Encyclopedia Brittanica (Nerd alert: I coveted those books. Every mail-order commercial made me swoon.). The genre did not matter, but having the words in front of me to journey through did. Even as an early reader, I savored each and every moment spent with a book.

Yes, I rocked bangs, glasses, braces AND the biggest jean "shorts" you've ever seen. (circa 1994)

Another key part to my look back into the younger me was remembering my journals. I am thankful to still have a few of those gems...and boy, do they reveal the heart and mind of little Carly. (slightly terrifying and hugely hilarious).  Daily happenings, special celebrations, the ups and downs of being a kid (and the torture of having two older brothers)...all captured on paper in my loopy, semi-cursive handwriting. For as much as I cherish thinking back on my childhood memories, reading through my old journals brings fresh perspective to those times. It's as if my memories are black and white, but reading my words brings them into color.

As the years went on, somewhere along the way I got distracted and stopped tuning in to my connection with words. In my growing up, I got busy...in my busyness I let go of the things that really make me, me. The me that God created me to be uses words to express myself. The me that God created me to be takes the time necessary to put my thoughts out before me, either typed or hand written. The me that God created me to be feels more like myself when I don't have a million ideas and thoughts jumbled up in my noggin'...because I've spent the time to purge them so I can have a clear head.

In the mix of wife life and motherhood I have been so caught up in everyone else that I squeezed out bits and pieces of myself that just couldn't fit in anymore. Little details that just had to go, because there was no where else for them to be...but gone. The habit of creativity was lost. Layer on a couple of decades, then four children and top it off with homeschooling (read as: never, ever having a moment to myself) ...and the me that needs to write got buried somewhere deep beneath.

I am incredibly thankful for my children, supportive and loving husband and the opportunity to home school. It is a choice I gladly make each day. I know that a life laid down most closely resembles Jesus, therefore I do not begrudge putting my family's needs before my own. However, after reading and wrestling with Freeman's book, I have begun to realize that I shouldn't wait till the kids are grown up and gone to unleash my creativity...that I need to find time to pursue it on a regular basis. Through tapping into my creative spirit, I am being fully who God created me to be...and that me, she is sure to be a better wife and mother.

So this is me, bravely stepping out into who God made me to be. It took a few months to accept the fact that this is indeed how I am created...and I am ready to fully embrace it. 

What is your creative calling? What creative art might be uncovered in your life, if you dared to look?