Month: August 2022

Perfect isn’t real. I’m a Parent

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Parenting sometimes is, working your tail off for a week through illness and recovery, disinfecting, cleaning, decluttering, super major effort, and ending a Monday with a house in shambles..

And waiting for the next 18 minutes on the washing machine that holds the kids uniforms hostage before you can put them in the dryer and go to sleep, in preparation for the 5:15 am alarm that’s looming. It’s life among the living I think when nothing works like you want but everything is still okay.

They won’t die from clutter and couch sleeping and I will survive on little to no sleep but we kill ourselves in process and the pursuit of perfection. Maybe perfect doesn’t have to mean what I think it means (catch the princess bride reference because all things good in life involve a good princess bride reference).

Maybe it’s okay to just be okay. Lunches packed, clothes laid out for tomorrow minus the ones waiting for the dryer, just life…just okay…

So I’m breathing in the evening and I probably won’t clean the living room tonight because 5am alarm and I don’t wanna’ but that may be okay. Just sayin’

I’m a chef making PB&J

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Well not really…but I’m a really good home cook who’s husband said he wanted to cook dinner on the grill so she waited and he got caught up

And that’s okay

And so my kids are eating PB&J

And I, though I would love to beat Bobby Flay, let it ride.

Because there’s so much more to life than sauce and technique.

And there’s more important battles to choose than dinner time

So the kids will survive and I won’t try out my latest culinary weapon

And tomorrow brings another chance at greatness…come on Bobby, I will bring you down…maybe…no comment….

But life is more than masterpiece.

Today may be the sum of mown grass and clean tile

Or smiling children and peanut butter fingers

Or mom wondering if she’s done enough.

Iced tea and vinegar scrubbed floors and Bobbly Flay smiling in the background of headphones blaring over kid noise.

This is life and my kid tells me daily I can beat you Bobby! We will never know of course, because I am me and you are you and there’s that

But regardless, I am happy with my peanut butter and jelly masses and five kid culinary accomplishments and life in the realm of dirty floors and lackluster survival.

This is me…

So bring it Bobby Flay!

Me and mundane, culinary life, clean floors and dog baths and five kid, hanging on, homemade pasta and kicking mom cuisine vs. I don’t even know what to call it.

At least my kids are happy with the me they’re stuck with as mom.

Cook on, Flay, cook on. I still win!

On falling and getting up

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If I’m going to fall, can I please fall hard and hit my head?

Can there be concussion and bruising so I don’t look like a fool?

Can I rest in the “okay-ness” of my weakness?

If I do, do I have to wait for a diagnosis?

Fallen, in need of grace?

Can’t we just be human?

Wake up sleepers

Wake up church!

In the land of the living, an anchor holds

And we get to reveal it and show it to the masses

That’s enough

Love is enough

We can kick and claw and scream at the wind

We can cry behind closed doors

But we can’t stop reaching

For real love!

THAT is the anchor

Nails and thorns and mercy on a cross

And death giving way to victory

Who are you?

Who does He say I am?

Where is victory?

Can you see it today?

If not, look again.

It’s worth fighting for!

Time…in a bottle…or not…

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Time is a funny thing.

It flies

It pauses

It groans for tomorrow

It longs for yesterday

It moves

In waves

While the world continues, as it seemingly stops for some

But it is.

Time is

And we grovel at it’s feet

And we wonder where the break pedal is

And we clasp onto what we can hold

And we long for bricks to put on top our children’s heads to stop the growth

All the while praying they will grow, healthy and strong, and prepared for tomorrow

I watch you grow and I beg for it to stop and continue while I sit like an Alanis Morissette lyric, contracting truths against each other.

And we grow and move

And live and have our being in the moment

Sweaters on backward and inside out and all

Until we feel the most of a new day

And breathe

Deep

Because today is wrapped in tomorrow and yesterday at once

And I am you and you are me together, bracing for the impact

Life is more than we see

Life is wrapped in the endless toil of a day well lived, and a tomorrow, begging for something

Whatever that may be

My tomorrow is different from yours

But it’s the same

The hand of God, making meaning, while we go

And that’s enough

At the end of the day, it’s enough

Forward motion makes for meaning

So RUN!

Then look at yesterday and today and smile

Knowing tomorrow is breath

And we’re all running

In the Morning …Running with what you’ve got

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So, my mornings are always morning before morning should be allowed

I’m not a morning person…working on this…

But in anticipation of tomorrow, I plan.

I pack lunchboxes and clean and lie clean clothes on racks and hooks, and find shoes lost by minions (small people I’m charged to raise)

But, unfortunately, sometimes I dread the day ahead.

I’m not proud of it.

And I think if His mercies new every morning and the blessing of parenthood and employment and a life well lived.

But in reality, I go to bed knowing my alarm will sound the horror bell of having to wake up when I want to sleep.

Still, there’s a blessing when the coffee and the day kick in.

When sunlight brings possibilities that I haven’t imagined.

So I ride before the sun and do it again and again.

This life doesn’t have to be brilliant or awesome in the light of day but it has to continue to bring meaning.

So today leads to tomorrow and every moment, even the mundane, leads to greatness.

Will I be remembered for the lunches I pack and the jokes I wrote in sharpie on ziplock? Probably not. But will I be remembered for my perseverance and strength? I hope so.

Wake up tomorrow and do it again.

Just go!

One foot in front of the next, in excellence. It’s all anyone can ask and it’s more than enough.

Two cents from the routine.

Two cents to manufacture a million. Just RUN!

Glorious

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What makes glorious life?

When pen and plight, too numb, collide

What beauty permeates stone?

Till I, in He, resound alone.

We talk, so often of death and pain

Yet forget the living

And here I stand with arms, waiting for direction, aiming for the target I cannot see

Or maybe I can…

Or maybe I am hesitant to step, without seeing where my feet will land

Either way, pen in hand, write my story.

I’ll go

Who am I?

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If I were a mere mortal in the land of the living

You know that place where truth and grace collide

And the maker of heaven called me beautiful in spite of my ugly

And I set out to show the world the immensity of glory

And the rug beneath me failed to hold the weight

And the ground shook at the sound of Your voice

And I am me and you are infinite

What can I offer?

A prayer to the God who sees

A song to the voice of the mute

I am a disabled veteran in the land of the living

No claim to fame just a life sacrificed at the altar of service

And in my case, badly offered

Bruised and unworthy

But still showing up

Still fighting

Still ready to stand and say it’s all worth it

Bring it on world, I’m here standing on weak knees, ready for tomorrow

Warrior with broken feet…standing on hope.

Wake me up!

Confessions of a Narcissist’s Wife

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I will never be myself again.

I will apologize for every statement.

Okay get it. I will walk on eggshells while the earth shatters.

I will stand alone beneath the weight of injustice.

I will take responsibility.

Nothing is anything apart from you so I will hide

And tomorrow might be better or not

And today is a drop in the bucket of eternity.

Because I can’t long for you anymore while you throw me under the bus.

But that’s life in the land of the living and the sun will rise and I will forgive and we will call it growth.

That’s just movement in the stagnant waters while the void calls for justice.

I will apologize.

I will find my own fault in your weakness.

I will stand alone.

I will bear the weight of the world while you cower.

Tomorrow, bring your anchor.

Time in a Bottle

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If we can’t find time and bottle it neatly, can we walk into tomorrow knowing it mattered?

If today is a blip, is tomorrow a wonder?

What if the world stops now?

Am I enough?

I am who He says I am.

Maybe if we lived each day with intention…

Maybe that’s a pipe dream.

What is a “pipe dream”

Legit, what is the entomology of that phrase.

I’m too lazy to look tonight. And I just used “Legit” as an actual word.

Maybe tomorrow…

Says the girl at the end of the world looking out into the void.

Jesus, help me focus on today!