Monday floods and Friday gifts.


It’s Friday.  My mind has been abuzz all week and when I sat down this evening to write, this is not what I had in mind.

Monday was a terrible, icky kinda of a day, one that I hope is not too soon repeated.  Among other things, the hose on the dishwasher gave out and I was summoned downstairs by my son to a couple inches of warm water all over the kitchen floor…..the pine floor.  What a sight… son and I mopping the water down the stairs off of the floor while my 8.5 month pregnant daughter-in-law sopped up what was left with virtually every bathroom towel we own.  I suppose the good news was that my feet were lovely and pink and clean… Tuesday and Wednesday are a bit of a blur, honestly, and Thursday brought with it a breath of fresh air when a friend and I trekked to the big City for lunch, a movie and, of course, a trip to Costco.  The best part of our time, though, was the 2 hour drive over when we did what we women do when we get together – we talked.  We shared our struggles, our secrets, our sins, our unanswered prayers and, of course, some tears.  We didn’t fix anything, but it was just what this woman needed.

In the midst of kids, meals, laundry, groceries and the office, I spent a large part of this week silent and in my head.  I found myself rather emotional; tears were often close and prior to my Thursday away, any effort to try to convey what was going on was just too much. Much easier, at least for the moment, to stuff.  Keep myself busy, do what needs to be done without complaining, be strong yet not too strong…….definitely don’t want to be a burden to anybody.  I wanna be…….Superwoman!

Ya, but I’m most definitely not.

I was not a teenage girl who spent every Sunday morning in the nursery for the love of children.   I babysat to make some money.  I wasn’t and still am not the fun aunt who played stupid but fun games with silly string and whipping cream with my nieces and nephews.  I’m not the mom who does arts and crafts or spends afternoons in the kitchen baking cookies.  I don’t home school my kids ’cause I have a passion to spend every waking hour with them and at times I’ve wondered if I’m doing more damage than good……until I hear what goes on in the schools.  My days of being creative in the kitchen have come…..and gone, for the most part; cooking is a line on my “to do” list and just because I have a passel of children, it doesn’t mean I have “a gift”.  Being a mom is neither a ministry nor a profession.

At times I’ve had this weird, almost dream-like experience where I’m sitting around the dining room table, surrounded by all of these people, and I look around and realize that they’re my kids.

God’s gifts to me.  gift boxes

Despite my inadequacies, my fears, my frailties; despite myself, God, who knows me best, has seen fit to bless me.

With the arrival of each, he has stretched my capacity to love and the greatest gift my children – these people whose lives are so intricately woven with mine – have given me has been learning to love them unconditionally.

It’s an ongoing post-non graduate course that I’m enrolled in for the foreseeable future.



Don’t be afraid to get a little wet


I took Rhys and Tess to swimming lessons on Monday. Tess is 1 of 2 little girls in her class.  Sophie apparently has mermaid blood. Not only is she part fish, but she’s a cute little thing that has all of the answers to all of the questions her teachers ask.  Never a complaint or any sign of fear.

She’s the kind of girl many of us grew up not liking……but that’s a whole other blog post.

So Monday.  The instructors took the girls out to the dock so they could jump off. Sophie is not only jumping off and swimming back (why is she in this class??), but while Tess stood silently, hesitantly on the dock, seemingly frozen in fear, Sophie is asking if she can jump in more. Talk about humiliation…or maybe that’s just what Tess’ mom was feeling.   I found that I was, well, disappointed.

I tried to encourage from the sidelines. I clapped and said all the right things; I had my phone at the ready so I could catch Tess’ figure as it arced gracefully into the water, a look of glee on her angelic face.  After several minutes…..several very long minutes…..I put my phone down and walked a few meters away to the main dock wondering what her issue is.  My normally fearless girl never needs this much cajoling to do anything, except maybe apologize.  I wondered if I was pressuring too much.  Maybe she’d do better if I weren’t out there, phone in hand…..maybe she’s just a kid who hasn’t spent much time in the water and has some stage fright.

At this point, Tess is half way through her 4 weeks of lessons. At home, Tess is the child who knows it all, a finely honed craft she’s used on everybody in the house.  Her response to most anything anybody tells her is “I know”.  Of course you do…..  She is the child who is never wrong… least never admits to being wrong.  She is, in many ways, me.  I doubt my mother would agree, and I’m sure being the oldest of 3 girls is a heck of a lot different than being the youngest of 8, but I do not like to admit to being wrong.  Oh, I can apologize for all sorts of things…..but that’s entirely different.

After I left my perfect picture spot, the teachers finally coaxed my daughter into the water.  I don’t think she got all of her head wet, but some of her face went in. When she got out, she came to me…..”did I do good mommy?”  “You’re getting better, Tess” was my response. Best I could come up with in the midst of my disappointment.  Oh come on!  Don’t tell me you’ve never felt disappointment with something your child did, or didn’t do!!

I’ve spent zero time in the water with my youngest.  Well, there was that one time at the hotel…..ya, zero time.  I found myself thinking that perhaps she would do better, feel more comfortable if I had actually gotten in the water WITH her.  Better late than never, so, that afternoon this mama donned a bathing suit and headed to the beach and actually got IN the water.  I cajoled and encouraged; I pulled Tess around; I tried to get her to relax as she lay on her back like a star fish.  I found myself slightly frustrated when I didn’t see what I hoped would happen….my sparkly-eyed, angelic faced, know-it-all child swim, but it was a start.

The following day I asked hubby to take the kids to their lessons.  I don’t understand what happened, but half way through the lesson Tess decided she could stick not just her face in the water, but her head.  She could float on her back and and she could doggy paddle with mermaid-Sophie.  Everyone came home full of great reports of Tess’ improvement and that afternoon, when I took the blonde and her brother swimming, we had great fun!  She showed me all of her tricks and looked at me with that precocious smile of hers.  When I hugged her, we laughed….and I was thrilled.

I don’t know if Tess learned anything from all of this; well, aside from swimming, but Tess’ mom did.  I was reminded that I can’t be an encouragement to Tess….or anyone for that matter…..if I’m not willing to “get a little wet”.  How can I teach my daughter by example if I am not willing to be one?

This morning it was my turn to take them to swimming lessons, so I put my bathing suit on.


I’m almost embarrassed to say it, but my youngest three began swimming lessons last week….they’re 9, 7 and 5.  And yes, it’s their first time taking swimming lessons….  Every summer for the past several I’d think “really need to get those kids some swimming lessons” and every summer it wouldn’t happen.

When I told them that I’d signed ’em up, Declan, the 9 year old, was not happy.  Probably an understatement   He was unhappy; SO completely unimpressed….and anybody that knows the boy will understand.  I didn’t get the same reaction from Rhys and Tess, but Dec?  It was constantly on his mind; he would not say that he didn’t want to learn, he was just afraid.

I explained to him that it was normal to feel nervous before starting something new and I used a couple of his siblings as examples to encourage him.  I asked him if he thought Meagan was nervous that first time she got into a glider, or the first time she flew a Cessna on her own.  Do you think Cam was a little jittery when at 12 he donned a set of pads for the first time and stepped out onto the football field, Dec?   Certainly didn’t know what he was doing…. or that first College game he actually got to play in?  Yikes, talk about pressure.

Declan admitted to me a couple days after starting that he felt nauseous before each lesson…but despite the queezy tummy, despite the fact that he had to get his face wet and be in a group with strangers and take instruction from someone he doesn’t know, he didn’t ask if he could quit and I wouldn’t have let him anyway.  He continued to go and to listen and to do what what asked of him and now he’s jumping off the dock and “swimming” out to the raft.  He faced his fear and won and his mama is proud of him.  Rhys is also doing very well and Tess?  Well, she is another story.  A strong-willed little girl with the appearance of an angel who doesn’t like to take instruction and certainly isn’t going to get her face wet.


Such a head game!  Despite the fact that fears are, for the most part, irrational, our fears have such a capacity to hold us captive, keep us from learning, growing, changing.  Though having a gang of children gives me a great vantage point for such observations, I don’t have to look beyond myself to see the signs of fear….though I’d like to say that I’ve put those puppies to bed, I have not.  There have been times when the fear of what tomorrow may hold has met up with anxiety about today (particularly when the bank account drains precariously close to the edge) and I’ve found myself in the grip of complete and absolute irrational fear.  What helps me the most in those times are

  • family.  They are God’s gift to me and an example of his faithfulness, despite my own brokeness
  • good friends.  Not acquaintances…..the ones who despite knowing me….all of it… me anyway.  Those who have my back.
  • a past.  We all have them, but sometimes they have us.  Looking backward is a fairly pointless exercise UNLESS it`s to look and see all that God has done; to recall his mercy and faithfulness.  All the times he’s shown up in the nth hour and I realize…again…that all my fear and anxiety were for naught.  Other than make me just a little bit crazier.

One of my “go to” scriptures in those times?  Matthew 6:  25-34 (ESV)

25 “Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?26 Look at the birds of the air: they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? 27 And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life?[g] 28 And why are you anxious about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin, 29 yet I tell you, even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. 30 But if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is alive and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will he not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?31 Therefore do not be anxious, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ 32 For the Gentiles seek after all these things, and your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. 33 But seek first the kingdom of God and his righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.

34 “Therefore do not be anxious about tomorrow, for tomorrow will be anxious for itself. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble.


In high school English class, the teacher would on some days say “USSW”.  What that meant was “Un-Structured Silent Writing” and It was just that.  No talking, no topic, no rules, didn’t have to turn it in, pen in hand, paper on desk, writing for 50 minutes…..about whatever popped in or through our wee minds.

I loved it.  

I would write about everything…..a habit I wished I’d have continued beyond my high school english class.  This morning as I sat here trying to figure out what my “tagline” for my new blog would be, I had no idea what to say, and so I have no tagline.  And as I continued on to the part where it indicated I would create my first post, I had no idea what to write… I thought of USSW.

Over the years, I’ve read some really great blogs.   I tend to gravitate toward the very personal and honest sharing of experiences and expression.  When I read them I can understand not only what they’re saying, but what they must be feeling, ’cause I’m feeling it.  These people seem real…..for all I know.  I mean, I don’t know them personally, I’m just reading what they write….right?  Ok, that was weird.

I grew up “in” church, which means I know all of the Sunday School songs, have sang in a church choir or two and yet I’ve spent a fairly significant part of my adult life wondering  who God is….I think that’s why I’ve so many kids ’cause they’ve taught me something about who he is and, more particularly, how he loves.  He’s very different from who I thought he was.

I’ve learned, ever so slowly, that it’s so much easier to say I believe in God and his love (did I mention knowing ALL those Sunday school songs), than to walk that out daily and show that love to others.  That’s flippin’ hard.

I’ve learned that the longer I’ve known him, the more I realize I have yet to learn about him.  He’s flippin’ huge.

And I’ve learned that being right or righteous (there is none righteous…..not even one) isn’t worth the loss of a good relationship; they are rare indeed.

Just a test

It’s fairly safe to say I’ve not a foggy clue what I’m doing here except that all the cool kids were using WordPress, so over I came.  If nothing else, It’ll make it easier to post comments on their blogs!

One moment, please.