Does it Get Easier?

When my boys were little, I hated it when moms with older kids would tell me that it doesn't get any easier. Seriously ladies, your kids are in school 7 hours a day. You have time to go to the gym, eat lunch with friends, work, go to the bathroom in piece, sleep through the night. I was in the land of middle of the night feedings, changing diapers, having to carry one baby while corralling a toddler through the parking lot at Target. It took me a few years to discover the joys of the YMCA childwatch program so I could actually get a few minutes alone, though I did have to exercise. That was how desperate I was for a few minutes to listen to my iPod and read entertainment magazines. Desperate enough to spend 30 minutes sweating on a treadmill or elliptical trainer so I could breathe for a minute. So don't tell me it doesn't get any easier. It had to get easier. My boys would eventually go to school, my lifejacket in stormy seas. And I have to say to all you moms out there who don't think it gets any easier, I respectfully disagree.

Here's the thing. I think the early years of parenting are a lot like childbirth. The second it is over, you forget the pain, the months of swollen ankles and nausea, the hormones and then the actual pain of giving birth to a nine pound baby with a huge head without any pain medications. You see that little baby in your arms, and high on the birth experience, you are ready to do it all over again. I think that is true of the baby years as well. Once my baby turned two, I felt a weight lift a bit. And now that he is almost three, I am starting to see the light at the end of the life providing stage of parenthood. I still have to provide the food, but in a pinch, Little One has proven he can get his own grown up yogurt out of the fridge, take of the lid, grab a spoon and start eating. He can get in and out of his crib (yes he is still in a crib) on his own so on Saturday mornings if his brothers are up he can go down and watch cartoons while his Dad and I pretend we can't hear them and keep sleeping. He doesn't run into the street, can find his own blankies and in a pinch wipe his own bottom. He still very much needs me, but it is less physically exhausting now. And it is less immediate now as well. He can wait patiently. He won't fall off the changing table if I look away for a second. He is going to wake up each morning. He can play with choking hazards. I don't have to be on guard at all times any more. I can take my eyes off the ball for a minute and relax.

But it doesn't get any easier they said. What I am finding is that while it is less physically exhausting, it is still a challenge. Parenting starts becoming much more of a mental challenge. There is no way to know if you are making the "right" decision. It is a much more grey world as they get older. And the really scary part is that at some point, I no longer even get to make the decision. As my boys are getting older, I have less and less control. I am having to let go more as they grow up, heading out into the world for longer parts of their day. When they were babies, I was exhausted because I was always in charge, always in control. And now I am spending a lot of time worrying about their decisions, fretting about how the world will treat them, and praying that God will love and protect them. I am losing control.

So whether or not it gets any easier depends on how much I need to be in control. Honestly at this point in time I am ready to let go of some of the control. I am tired of juggling all the balls and would love to let someone else carry the load. Where to find Mary Poppins?

So for me, the boys getting older does involve more heartache, but I know that God loves them more than me. I know that God a plan for their lives. And I know that God is in control. What great comfort.

It's Not All About Me

I have recently come to the conclusion that it really is not all about me. It is not even all about my kids, my family, my friends. The story of my life is just a part of a larger story that God is telling. I am not even a plot point in the movie God is making. He is the author, the director, definitely the producer. I am an extra. I am in the background of the scenes at times, lending to the flavor of the story, but I am not the story. It is not all about me. And I find this immensely comforting.

Maybe I should be all upset that the world does not revolve around me; that I am not the integral part of even my own life story. But I am not. I am relieved. It takes a lot of the pressure off of me to make my life meaningful, fulfilling, exciting, movie worthy. I like seeing my life as part of God's bigger story, His story of love, sacrifice and redemption.

This does not mean that I don't think I am important to God because I know that I am. I know that God loves me personally, just like I know that He loves my kids more than I ever could. I know that He has a plan for my life, a plan that grows me closer to Him, and hopefully is a part of the telling of His story. I know that he cares what job I take, who I marry, how many kids to have and even what road I take when I drive to the library. I know because I have a friend who was in a horrible car accident while driving her kids to the library to return some books. Her oldest daughter went home to Jesus and she has had to deal with the after effects of a traumatic brain injury ever since. God cares about the big details in our lives and what seem to be little details to us such as which way we take to get to the library.

I think we often think of God in human terms. How can he keep track of all of us, all our needs, our thoughts, our desires. There are a lot of people in this world, even if you only count believers, which is assuming he only cares about the believers. But we are thinking of God in our terms and we have trouble remembering to buy eggs and milk we when go into the store, but we always come out with those cookies we really like. I think God is more like Google. There are how many millions of websites out there that Google somehow in its greatness figures out what matches my needs when I do a search. God is even bigger and better than Google. He works in ways that our minds cannot comprehend. He is omnipotent, omniscient, omnipresent. He is focused on the bigger story, keeping all the actors, cameramen, grips and costume designers on task. But while doing that he is also completely intuned to my life, my experiences, my hearts desires.

God is way bigger than I could ever imagine. So why would I not take great comfort in knowing that He is in charge, telling a bigger story with our lives, than we could ever tell on our own.

Sinful Nature? Who me?

Last week my dear husband picked up my boys' favorite hamburger Happy Meals at McDonalds for dinner. These are also our favorites because our McDonalds has $1.25 Happy Meals on Tuesdays and it was Tuesday. What could be better. Happy Meals for the kids and cheap eats for us that don't involve me cooking. Win-win-win.

Everyone was eagerly awaiting their treat and more importantly the toy that comes in the box. They were sitting patiently at the table when he came in and started handing out the boxes. Since all three meals are the exact same on Tuesdays there was no need to figure out what belongs to whom. At least that is what he thought. Until the tears started. The little boys were so excited to see a Bakugan ball in their respective Happy Meal boxes. Unfortunately there had been a mix up at the McDonalds drive thru and Hockey Boy somehow ended up with the "girl" box that had a little Build a Bear stuffed animal inside. Oh the tears. The injustice. The wailing. How could we do something so awful to him? My response, "Just chill out." Here switch with Little One who really is too little for a Bakugan ball. At least that is what I tell Little One because I am already annoyed with him for not being willing to use the toilet when he is perfectly capable. "If you are not wearing big boy pants then you are not big enough for the big boy toy." Makes sense to me. More tears. And the agitation starts to build in me. Seriously folks how can my dear husband not know to check the boxes before he starts handing them out? How did he let this happen? I glare at him. "Rookie Mistake" I say.

I cannot believe how annoyed I got over something that was easily fixed. Especially considering the next time I went to McDonalds, Little One was thrilled with his new stuffed animal. Oops, I had been hoping he would want to be a big boy and start using the toilet. I was totally taken over by alien invaders at that moment. I did not spew green filth or anything but I felt like my body was being taken over by mean lady. The woman who sometimes shows up and snaps for no reason. The woman who suddenly gets annoyed by Little One for asking the same question one too many times. The woman who seems so lovely most of the time and then wham, for about a week once a month, feels overwhelmed, easily agitated and sad for no reason.

Turns out it was hormones. Those little pesky whatever they are that change my body and my mood once a month... at least for now and I can only imagine how alien I will feel when the big Change happens. And this month for the very first time I came to a new realization about hormones.

Whenever people talk about our sinful nature I always feel a bit funny because as a sinner saved by grace I like to think of myself as changed and filled with the Holy Spirit. And while I know I have a sinful nature and see my own depravity quite regularly, the sinful nature thing confused me. I started thinking about the consequences of the fall of Adam and Eve and how Adam would toil the earth and Eve would experience the pain of childbirth, which I have experienced with and without drugs and it is PAINFUL! But the pain of childbirth also includes all those parts of our womanhood that make childbirth possible and that includes those pesky hormones. And I realized that my hormones are one very tangible example of my sinful nature. So I can no longer just chalk up my nastiness to hormones as an excuse. Instead it is a painful reminder of how much I need my Savior; an opportunity to rise above my sinful nature with God's help.

Of course that is easy to write sitting on this side of the month. We'll see how well I am doing in a few weeks. And don't get me started on why I am expected to toil the earth when I have to endure the pain of childbirth.

Mary or Martha?

Are you a Mary? or a Martha?

I hear this a lot in church ministry circles. Especially when someone who has been serving for a long time is starting to feel overwhelmed. It usually involves them saying something along the lines of "I just want to sit and be fed for a while." And then someone usually comes along side and references the story of Mary and Martha from Luke 10.

As Jesus and his disciples were on their way, he came to a village where a woman named Martha opened her home to him. She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord's feet listening to what he said. But Martha was distracted by all the preparations that had to be made. She came to him and asked, "Lord, don't you care that my sister has left me to do the work by myself? Tell her to help me!"

"Martha, Martha," the Lord answered, "you are worried and upset about many things, but only one thing is needed. Mary has chosen what is better, and it will not be taken away from her." Luke 10:38 - 42

The helpful person usually says, "Maybe it is time for you to be Mary for a while." Which would make complete sense if Jesus was actually in the room. Of course we should be sitting at his feet. We should be making time in our day to be in the presence of God, in His Word. I think though that we often use this story as an excuse to take a break and be fed. And while breaks are important (God rested on the 7th Day), I think we have to be careful in how we interpret this scripture.

No where in the passage does Jesus say that Mary should rest or that Martha should not be making preparations. What he says is, "Only one thing is needed." If we take Mary as a person who took time to sit and listen to the teacher, who rested and was fed, then is that the one thing that is needed? To sit and listen? I don't think so. Every time Jesus mentions what we need, he is referencing our need for a Savior, for His redemption. Mary was choosing to listen to Jesus, to be in His presence. She was getting spiritually fed by the Lord. She was spending time with her Savior, with Jesus Christ, God's son. I can imagine though when he was done teaching in her house, she got up and went back to work.

I don't think we are called to either a Mary OR a Martha. I think instead we are to learn two important lessons from this story. First we need to have our priorities straight - only one thing is needed - Jesus. And second, don't let our work, distract from this. But this story is not an excuse to live quiet lives of solitude and contemplation, allowing others to do the work of serving the church, loving our neighbors and spreading the gospel to the ends of the earth. We need to be using our gifts and talents to glorify God. We need to be participating in His work. We need to do this with our priorities in place, with our hearts turned towards God, our mind being fed by His Word.

So let's not give up on serving when we get tired. Let's find very real places of rest, Sabbath, in our lives. Let's find wise counsel, teachers and friends who can help us grow spiritually. Let's spend real time in God's word and in prayer which always feeds me and gives me strength and energy. And then let's work. Let's serve. Let's love through our actions.

I want to be a Martha, who serves the real needs of God's people because I have also spent part of my day as a Mary, sitting at the feet of Jesus.