Well I am doing this thing. I am really gonna do it! 2017 is the year I am gonna make it happen! I have wanted to start a blog for several years now and have been told by many people that I should do it, but one thing always hung me up…. the name! What on Earth do I call my blog? I have racked my brain over and over trying to find the perfect name. I have even prayed to God to give me a name but I never heard that still voice whisper into my ear …”the perfect name for your blog is…….” I am sure by now, you are thinking, “So you chose “My Bacon Bits?” Well, yes, I did. Number one …every single great name I came up with was used!!! Number two…I finally just picked one and went with it and decided the name really has little importance! But I will give an explanation as to WHY I chose My Bacon Bits. Our last name is Cunningham and somewhere along the last 18 years, we started referring to ourselves as the “Slybacons.” Think about it, and you will get why! So, we call all of our little people, our bacon bits & since this blog will mostly be about raising them, it seemed fitting! I have 7 bacon bits and let me tell ya, it is ALWAYS an adventure! They range in age from 18 to 2. Chaotic is the second best word I can come up with to describe our life. The first is blessed. I wouldn’t change a thing even though most days I wonder how on Earth I am gonna keep doing this for another two decades! But we keep pluggin along. My promise to you is to keep it real. If there is one thing I can’t stand, it is the fake persona that we all try so desperately to keep. So in this blog, you will get my real raw emotions and life stories. You will get to see first hand into the lives of our crazy, loud, not at all perfect large family. But you will also see the blessings that I, wonder all the time, why I have received in such large amounts! So I hope you stick with me and maybe, try to not judge much, as I am just a Mom doin’ the best I can to raise my bacon bits into happy healthy adult bacon!
When my kids were little, every single one of them would reach an age of self awareness. Awareness that people are watching. An awareness that they may be laughed at or made fun of. They suddenly understood embarrassment. It always kind of broke my heart when that moment happened. They would be acting like their typical goofy self and then all of a sudden, it’s like the awareness hit. My Mom always refers to the moment they learn something new as “when a neuron fires and connects.” So whatever neuron is responsible for embarrassment and shame, it connected and would make my little one hide behind me and tuck their innocent little faces deep behind my legs or into my neck, or wherever was closest. They went to the safest place they knew, and at that time, it was buried into Momma. I would try so hard to bring them out and encourage them to be themselves, but that fear of what others were thinking about them was paralyzing and they just couldn’t reveal their faces.
I understand that that neuron has to connect. I understand that the fear of embarrassment sometimes makes us think before we speak or do. Just like if we didn’t have nerves and couldn’t feel pain, we would be reckless. But sometimes, I wish that it didn’t connect quite so strongly. I wish that we had the freedom to be exactly who God created us to be without the fear of feeling weird, or too silly, or dumb, or this, or that, or whatever adjective people insert when someone is different than them.
I can be an open book and I know it makes some people so uncomfortable. And to be honest with you, sometimes it makes me so uncomfortable. I am from a super small town, so I can be sitting at a ballgame and look around and realize that I am Facebook friends with over half of the people there. At that moment I think about how much I can reveal about myself and that neuron hits and I am like a child wishing I could hide into my momma’s neck again. I am instantly aware of comments family or friends make about other people’s posts or personalities and I know that I am talked about the same way by others. I am either annoying, too open, looking for attention, weird, or a number of other adjectives that would hurt. It isn’t just Facebook though. If you spend more than a few moments talking to me, I am probably going to end up telling you something that a lot would consider too personal. But, if you are struggling with something, you are going to learn that I have also struggled with it or with something else. But over half of those times, I walk away wanting to hide again. I walk away thinking “Why did I just reveal that? Why must I share everything? What are they thinking about me?”
But I know why I do it. I do it because I was created to. I was created for community. I was created to love people. I was created to need people. If I sit behind a mask and never take it off, then I lose what being vulnerable can do for the person reading a post that feels like they are the only one that struggles. I lose what it can do for me, when someone reaches out and tells me they are here for me. I lose relationships that I never would have formed because I wouldn’t take off the superficial face long enough to let them see me and my heart. I lose the moments when someone feels safe enough with me to take off their own mask, because they see that mine is off. We are here to live life together. We are here to share life together and we just can’t do that if we live inside a private little world, too scared to come out from behind momma’s neck.
And if you are one of the people that lets other people’s realness make you feel uncomfortable, maybe it’s time to self check. Why are you uncomfortable with it? Why does it matter to you? Maybe it’s because you were never brave enough to leave the neck. It’s probably because you didn’t experience a whole lot of grace when you did. You may have had parents that weren’t sad, but instead thankful, when that neuron finally fired and you wouldn’t embarrass them anymore. And anytime you tried to be you, it was quickly squelched because their own fears of ‘what people will think’ had caused them to never come out from their own hiding place. You may have had friends or peers that always pointed out any weirdness and you learned to just hide who you really are because it was safer. Maybe when you learned that the world was just not a very nice place unless you acted a certain way, it was just easier to hide. And maybe you are just really private because THAT is how God made YOU! Whatever the reason, I won’t judge. But I might be a little bit sad for you, because I have learned that being vulnerable has brought me some of the best moments and deepest relationships.
I may have brief moments that I wish I could still hide behind my momma, but most times, I am SO thankful that I chose to lift my face and reveal myself. I am so thankful that my fear of not being who God made me to be is so much stronger than my fear of what people will think of me.
Today, as I am making chili for my son’s last soup supper and pre-season scrimmage, I can’t help but think about how quickly the season is going to go. I allow my mind to fill with memories of watching him play for many years, being careful to not let any tears fall into the chili. Of course the tears are because endings are hard. All those lasts are absolutely crushing to a Mom’s heart. But it isn’t just watching him play that will be missed. After having several children play in sports, you realize that with each kid, comes a different tribe. A tribe of parents and grandparents. Some, you absolutely love and look forward to chatting with after the game is over, while you are waiting for your kid to be the last one out of the shower. Some, you strategically wait to take a seat until they sit down, so you can sit at the other end of the gym. (Come on, if it’s you, you gotta know why). But you all make up your little tribe. The tribe that supports that group of kids who are trying to desperately fulfill their biggest dreams on the court or the field. The tribe that comes together and feeds them after every game. The tribe that rallies around them, celebrating their wins and hurting over their losses. You may not be very close to these people in other areas of life, but during that season, you have that common bond together. Then that season ends and the next season there are new members of your tribe, until eventually you are no longer a part of it. So, if you have a good tribe, don’t take it for granted. I have had both, and a good one is such a blessing to be a part of. And don’t be the person that everyone wants to kick out of the tribe. Be encouraging. Be kind. Be LOUD, but be positive. Because all too soon it will be over. Those bad calls won’t matter, that coach’s questionable decision will be forgotten and only the memories will remain. I don’t know about you, but I hope to be remembered as a good member of my own sideline tribe. 💜💛
I read a quote the other day that made me chuckle to myself. It said, “There are perfect parents in the world. They just don’t have kids yet.” I laughed because it is true. My husband and I were the first to have kids on both sides of our families. From time to time we would hear from our siblings, “My kids won’t do this, I won’t allow that, or my kids WILL do this.” Let’s just say we watched them each drop like flies when the parenting reality bug finally bit them. I will even be honest and say at times we enjoyed watching their demise! But as much as we hated to admit it, we also knew that we were once the same way. Parenting just has a way of humbling each of us. But it doesn’t end there. We don’t just have that first kid and then a couple of years in, realize we don’t really have all of the answers. No, we still kind of think we do. Because we again start professing to everyone (or at least to ourselves) what our TEENAGERS will and won’t do and all that we will not allow. Yikes! THAT particular bug bites a whole lot harder and stings a whole lot worse, because those darn teenagers like to publicly prove that their parents have absolutely no idea what they are doing and really have very little control. Unless you are one of the lucky ones that had the sneaky kind, that made you believe that you really did know what you were doing! Lucky you. 😉 I didn’t, and I had to be bitten yet again, to realize that I am just wandering blindly through this parent thing. You would THINK that we would learn. But oh, humans are so naive and forget things so easily. I just knew that I would be such a great parent to my adult children. I would never ever be the annoying Mother or Mother-In-Law that offers unwanted advice or lets my opinion show. I would understand that they are adults and they are more than capable of making their own decisions. I even at times wanted to write a book on how to not be an annoying parent of adult children, because I thought I was an expert in that area. Until I had adult children. IT IS SO HARD!!! Now don’t get me wrong, I have an amazing set of parents and an amazing set of in-laws, but I would be lying if I said that we were never irritated, because we felt like they still wanted to parent us. We could so easily tell when they thought we should be doing things differently and it was extremely frustrating. So I vowed to never ever EVER be that way. Bitten again. Uggg. I hate reality. I hate being humbled. I hate realizing that this parenting thing is a learning cycle that really never ends. Just last night, my daughter, who is to be married in two months was telling me something that her and her fiance decided, and I opened my mouth and not only questioned their decision but also suggested something different. EEEK! I knew better, but I still did it. She instantly got really irritated and said, Ok, I am not telling you anything else about this. Thankfully, I knew what I had done, because I had before felt that exact frustration that she was feeling. I didn’t get mad or hurt. I knew I deserved it. Because that is what adults will do when you treat them like children. They will shut you out and not tell you anything. They do not want your advice, unless they ask for it. They want your trust that they can handle life. And they don’t want Mom and Dad judging their every move. They don’t want you meddling. Not only is it hard on them, but it can be especially hard on their marriage. They just want your love and your support. So, I learned my lesson….for the day. I would like to sit here and say that I will remember it, but I am that forgetful human, that will have to figure it out over and over again. So, after my daughter and I talked, I told her I understood exactly where she was coming from and gave her permission to next time just say “Hey you are being the annoying mother right now!!!” I promised her that I would not get mad and would retract. I asked her to please be patient with me as I learned this new role. She, of course, said she would and we laughed, and all is well. I may still write that book someday, but I think it will be AFTER I actually have some experience in the area!!! 😉
It was such a simple thing. I pulled a high chair to the side. I had moved it because it was in the spot that I put a little Christmas tree covered with snowmen ornaments every year. But when I moved that high chair, it instantly triggered my heart to feel past feelings.
You see a year ago, there was no high chair there to move and hadn’t been for four years, after our last child. But unbeknowest to me, I was within a week of finding out that my daughter who had just been away at college for four months was carrying my first very unexpected grandbaby. I was also within a couple weeks of having my 16 year old son come to us holding back tears as he said that he was in so much pain that he dreaded his basketball games, which he loves more than anything. We knew something had to be wrong for him to say that, but it would take us over a month and several different tests to finally figure out that this pain came from a crack in his pelvis, which was actually better news than we feared it could be. But that month was filled with worries of what ifs and hurting so badly for him for having to miss the season he had been working towards all year long. In the midst of this, my Dad was having major heart issues that we didnt know if they could fix, Ryan’s dad was having cancer removed, and his Grandpa was dying. Throw in some job stress on top of all of that and it literally felt like the rain was most definitely pouring.
What does all of this have to do with moving a high chair to put a tree up? Well, the pouring rain all happened in December of last year. Now, I LOVE the Christmas season. Not even really Christmas Day. I love that day, but I mostly love the season before it. It truly is my most favorite time of the year. It is the time that I actually stop and spend time doing things with my kids. It is when my heart just feels the most full. The music, the decorations, the smells, and most of all just the “feeling.” I remember last year in the several times that my heart would feel so empty and stretched to the max with worry and I would be crying on Ryan’s big wonderful shoulder. I would say, “I just hate that this is robbing me of my favorite season! Why couldnt all this have just happened a month later!?” But one particular moment when I was crying out to God and saying the same things, I felt him gently say to me, “But, Karen, this is what Christmas really is about. Yes the decorations, the music, the fun activities, those are all wonderful, but it is really about a baby that came to this Earth just to die. A baby that came to offer grace and forgiveness to your daughter, who really needs it right now. A baby who gives you hope when you are filled with worries about your son. A baby that paved the way so that when it is time for your grandparents or parents to go, they will be immediately welcomed by me.” And it was in that moment, that I suddenly understood what Jesus meant when he said, “Blessed are the broken hearted.” For this is when we are closest to him. This is when we really grasp the depths of his love. This is when we realize our need for him. I spent the rest of that Christmas season more thankful for that baby whose sole purpose was to bring us hope, grace, and forgiveness than I ever had before. Those Christmas songs about him that I had listened to my whole life suddently made me stop and feel so grateful. I truly listened to their meaning now. Nativities were more than just decorations. Random acts of kindess were no longer just a tradition, but were ways to thank him. I felt like the Grinch when he realized Christmas was so so much more and here I thought I already knew that. But he never stops teaching us.
So today as I pulled that high chair aside and it triggered those memories, I said a prayer of Thanksgiving for the sweet grandbaby that sits in it as we sit around the table to eat everynight. And I also asked God to please continue to remind me of the perspective that he blessed me with last year, no matter what happens. We don’t know what tomorrow holds. It could hold heartache a thousand times worse, but I do know I have hope because of that baby that we celebrate every year. And THAT is what Christmas is really about. Everything does not have to be picture perfect for it to be the most wonderful time of the year!
Yesterday I had a friend call me in tears. As I waited for her to get out what was breaking her heart, I had a thousand things go through my mind about what she was about to tell me. I, of course, was fearing the worst. Finally she says through her tears, “I don’t know how you have such good kids.” I stopped her right there and said, “Trust me, my kids are far from perfect.” I also then realized what was breaking her heart. Her very own child. I immediately was taken back to the many times my own children have broken my heart, but especially the first time that it happened. Mine was 14. As my friend poured out what her child had done, I comforted her the best I could, all the while remembering those exact same feelings I had had the moment that my perfect wall, or as Christians like to say, “hedge of protection” was cut down faster than a dying ugly bush. It will still be remembered as one of the hardest days of my life. I remember the feeling of betrayal,the loss of trust, the feelings of guilt that I had failed them, and the hopeless feeling that no matter what we do as parents, it doesn’t matter. It was a process that I also had to work through on my own, because sharing your children’s failures with others is such a vulnerable thing that many of us can’t bring ourselves to do. You fear the judgement on not only you as the parent, but mainly them. Most of us can handle judgement on ourselves, but no one wants to think of anyone judging the very people that we protect and love the most. We know that no one sees our children’s hearts and knows them like we do and so therefore all they will see is their mistakes. So we keep it in. We don’t share our broken hearts with even our families, friends, the people closest to us. At least I didn’t. Looking back now, maybe I should have, but the fear of changing their image of my child was just too strong. So I navigated through the pain with just my husband and God. Which is really ok too, because I learned more about God through those broken hearts caused by my child, than I ever did from my own.
I remember so well how dumb I felt for being so naive. I remember how I worried I would never trust them again. I remember wondering if I would ever look at them the same again. I remember thinking, “But I did everything I could to prevent this.” Can I just say LOL?!?!?!? As a Christian, we have this idea that if we do everything right, they will turn out right. This thought often times causes us to parent out of fear, which never turns out well. There is even the verse that we all cling to with our desperate hearts. “If you train up a child, the way he should go, when he is old, he will not depart from it.” So what do we do? Well of course we train them in a way that we believe will produce perfect little Christians that will rarely sin and when they do, they will immediately repent from it. We read them the Bible daily, we take them to church weekly, we memorize scripture with them, we take them on Daddy/Daughter dates and Mother/Son dates. We buy them purity rings and Bibles for every stage of life and read every book that teaches us how to be the perfect Christian parents. We make sure we have many family meals together and that we are always there for everything and etc. and etc. and etc and etc. Now don’t get me wrong – THESE ARE ALL WONDERFUL THINGS TO DO! But, they guarentee nothing. They may plant seeds, and hopefully they do, and probably they will, but if you are under the asumption that if you do everything right, they will not fall into sin, well, you are more than likely setting yourself up for heartache. Because this is why……they have their own story that God is writing and really it has very little to do with you. They have their own mistakes and failures and heartaches that they have to endure to mold them into the human beings that God wants them to be. Now this is actually when our role in their lives can be what makes or breaks them, because this is when we have the ability to SHOW them Jesus through those toughest of times. Grace will teach them so much more than all those perfect parenting things you did. Forgiveness will show them who God is much more than being able to quote scripture at them. Loving them despite their mistakes, will mold them into the man or woman you hoped for. Your actions when they are at their lowest will teach them about God far more than your quest to look and act perfect to them.
When I became a Christian, or should I say a Christian that really wanted to follow Jesus with my actions, rather than just my mouth, I didn’t even realize it, but I had developed a very very legalistic faith. And I had that legalistic faith for years, until my child really broke my heart. I hated the mistakes I had made in my own past so badly that I wanted to prove to not only me, but everyone else that I was a “real” Christian. I wanted the world to know that I really got it now. So, of course, I did everything right, I followed every rule. I became exactly who the church and the “good” Christians said I needed to be. And it was EXHAUSTING. And it wasn’t real. And I didn’t really know Jesus. I thought I did, but I didn’t. Jesus was just a list of rules and the superficial people that surrounded me seemed to see him the same way. But when my sweet child fell into sin, my eyes were opened in a way like they never had been before and it was beautiful. I now understood grace. I now understood forgiveness. I now understood a love so unconditional, that no mistake can take it away. I now understood how he watches our pain and he cries with us, even if it is self inflicted pain. I now understood him and his desperate love for us. I no longer felt chained to a list of rules. And I no longer felt like I needed to do everything right to ensure that I represented him right. And it was freeing. It was so freeing to know that he just wants my heart. Now of course out of love for him, I don’t want to break HIS heart, so I try my hardest to live according to his wants, but no longer everyone’s elses. So, had I really raised perfect kids, like my friend falsely believed I had, I don’t know that I ever would have come to know my Savior on such a personal level. I still have several more to raise, but I no longer fear the future with them like I did their older siblings. They probably will mess up….often. But I no longer feel hopeless that no matter what I do, it won’t make a difference. No, now I feel freedom in knowing that I don’t have to be perfect. I don’t have to do everything right, because I really do not have an ounce of control. But HE does and he is the one writing their story, not me. And I believe the end result will be amazing, no matter how much heartache it might take to get there. That is now my hope. I don’t hope for perfect kids that show the world I did everything right. No, I hope for kids that truly know him and not just a list of rules. I hope for hearts so broken for Jesus that he is the only one that can and will fix it.
So before I go, I just want to ask you to do a couple things. Don’t assume everyone has perfect children and that you are alone. Assume instead, that they just don’t feel comfortable sharing their heartaches and mistakes. If they do share them with you, DO NOT judge the child or their parenting, even secretly. Trust me, it is only a matter of time before your own kid messes up, and if they don’t, you either (A) never found out about it or (B) Got lucky …… but it is probably A!!! So, love these kids and love their parents. It isn’t easy and we need to have each other’s backs!
Nine months ago I found myself in a position that, truthfully, no parent ever really wants to find themselves in. It was the same position I had put my parents into just 19 short years earlier, which I think made me not want to be in this position, all the more. I had spent 19 years trying to do everything right, so that my daughter would not make the same mistakes that I had made. I laugh at that thought now. To think that we as parents really have any control at all, literally makes me laugh out loud now. Even God, who COULD control, but chooses not to, has billions of children who are a complete mess! Why do we actually think that we as imperfect human beings can produce perfection? Yes, we can do things that make a difference, but it in the end, their life is their story for God to write and we really do not have any control of where his pen will take them.
So that pen that he allowed to write my story with an unwed pregnancy in, he also allowed to write the same story for my sweet Lexi. Now let me be clear, God never chooses us to sin, but after we do, oh man, he can write a beautiful story with it, as long as we allow him to.
Which brings me to why I choose to celebrate her pregnancy with no shame. I post about it on Facebook. I have taken beautiful pregnancy pictures of her. I helped her make the sweetest little nursery for her baby. I was buying baby outfits the minute I found out I was going to be blessed with a grand-daughter. We threw a huge gender reveal party at our house. I helped my Sister-In-Law throw the most amazing baby shower for her.
Now, I know without a doubt, that there are people who have watched our celebration and have had the thoughts go through their heads that I am “glorifying sin”. That I am making unwed pregnancy look appealing. Why do I know this? Because I have done it before. EVEN after being in that position myself. WHY? Why do we as human beings, especially Christians, find ourselves so often in that judgement seat that is not for us to sit in? Why do we so easily forget our own weaknesses that led us to a beautiful testimony? I believe we mean well. We are told over and over how much God hates sin and that we should NEVER ever condone it or justify it. I don’t disagree with this one bit, but the sin is over. The sin has already been thrown as far as the east is from the west! So, what good would it do for me to show reservation in my excitement for this baby? SHE is not the sin! SHE is the picture of God’s AMAZING grace! If I withheld my excitement all in the name of not glorifying sin, all I would cause is hurt and resentment in my sweet daughter, who chose to give her daughter life, despite how hard she knew it would be.
I learned not long ago, that this was a fear of my Moms after finding out that I was pregnant. She had confided in a close friend that she didn’t know if she should show excitement for the baby because she didn’t want to seem like she was condoning my sin. The dear friend gave her the best advice when she told her that you absolutely HAVE to be excited about this baby. Both of my parents took that advice and gave me such a gift. Pure excitement with zero shame. I didn’t need their shame. I had become an expert at shaming myself! I am now even more thankful for their example, as it gave me the freedom to offer the same grace when I found myself in their shoes.
No, it isn’t easy. Facebook posts do not show the fears, the worries, or the many many tears. It is hard watching your child’s dreams and plans come to a halt. It is hard watching tears slip down her face as her friends do the things she used to love doing. It is hard watching her worry about the changes in her young body. It is hard watching her not want to go out in public because she is embarrassed of herself. It is hard listening to the shame she puts upon herself, especially after someone makes a dumb comment. It is hard trying to figure out how you are going to make it all work in a way that is best for your child, your grandchild, and YOU. There are consequences that come with it, no doubt about it. But it is also beautiful being a part of the story that God is writing. Watching your child fall in love with her child is one of the best things you can experience as a parent. Watching her lean on Jesus, when there is no one else to lean on, makes you know it is all gonna be ok. And not just ok, but wonderful, because you have this new person to love for the rest of your life.
So yes, I WILL celebrate my daughter’s pregnancy whether she is married or not. And maybe rather than condoning sin or glorifying unwed pregnancy, we are celebrating life and those who choose it in a world where it is so easy to not. I know this little girl will be one of our biggest blessings and I refuse to spend the time that God is knitting her in her Momma’s womb treating her as a scarlet letter, rather than the absolute miracle that she is!!! She was due on Monday and we are VERY anxioulsy awaiting her arrival!!!!
This morning I was listening to Pandora and one of my all time favorite songs came on. It is called, “Jesus Friend of Sinners” by Casting Crowns. Oh I love the lyrics in this song. I wish every follower of Jesus would live it. It got me to thinking about a recent conversation and event I had with my daughter. She is 19 years old and she is now almost 6 months pregnant. This pregnancy was not planned, as she is not married. I could write several blog posts about the early days of her pregnancy, and I probably will someday, but after listening to this song, this one particular day (person) stood out to me.
I had taken her to a pregnancy help center in the city closest to us. My purpose for this trip was that I was hoping she would be able to receive an ultrasound, so she could see that little life-filled heart beating, and could be filled with the joy that choosing life brings. Little did I know, it would give her so much more than just that! She had been doing ok, but of course there were things she was struggling with. And honestly, I was struggling. She was filled with regret and shame and the worry of what will people think of her. I was filled with worry about how we would make this work. I was constantly wondering what I could have done differently, so that she wouldn’t be walking this same path that I had walked 19 years earlier.
But, God uses sinners to do his best work. He always has. You don’t have to look very far in the Bible to find very imperfect people that are used in mighty ways. I don’t remember her name, but I sure do remember that sweet REAL sinner that worked in that pregnancy help center. She will never know the impact that she made on us that day. God was using her in a mighty way.
Before Lex could have the sonogram, she was brought into this room where the counselor talks to you. There is NO judgement. There is only love and forgiveness. There is only encouragement. I imagine that if there was a room that Jesus was in, it would feel just like this. Not only did she explain to Lexi that God CHOSE her to be the Momma of this new life, she also shared her own experiences with sin. She explained that after 20 years of marriage, even though she was a Christian, that she had been unfaithful to her husband and that while she has to live with those consequences, it made her realize we are imperfect human beings and we need our Savior over and over again. That he doesn’t stop loving us. He doesn’t give up on us. He takes those sins upon himself. She talked of how thankful she was for that in her life. As I sat there, with tears flowing down my cheeks (and also Lexi’s) I felt so extremely grateful and indebted to this dear woman and her willingness to share her mistakes with my scared little girl. And in that moment, I was truly ok with my own mistakes in my life and I was truly ok with Lexi’s. Because if that is what it takes to produce that kind of faith, realness, and true compassion to others, then it is ok. I will gladly let God use me in that way.
When we left the center, Lexi shared with me how different that woman was than most other Christians she had known. She said she has rarely known anyone, other than me and a couple of family members, that is real like that and so willing to share their worst mistakes. That is seems like all they want to do is judge everyone for theirs. She admitted that because of that, she had always had trouble not seeing God that same way. And it made me wonder, how many people do we turn away because we wear our perfect masks and refuse to be vulnerable? How many people do we turn away because we are SO quick to only share the “Don’t Do This or That” list but not willing to love them despite their inadequacies. Or because we refuse to see that their sin is just DIFFERENT than ours. As a line in that song says, “No One knows what we’re for, Only what we’re against, when we judge the wounded.”
That day, my wounded daughter saw Jesus through a broken woman with a tainted past. She had went to church her whole life, yet it took a trip to a pregnancy help center full of broken volunteers for her to experience that real and unconditional love.
This woman went down a broken path, but with her humility and her love, she is building a bridge for anyone else that took the same wrong path and that bridge will give so many the ability to find Jesus.
If you have never heard the song, take the time and listen to it here. Jesus, Friend Of Sinners It is convicting, but it is so good. And I believe that it might just make you also want to be a friend of sinners.
Last night at about 10:00 my 13 year old daughter comes to me with an outfit on and asks me if she looks alright for a music festival the next day. I could tell by her body language that I had to tread lightly with my answer. Truthfully, the outfit needed work. The poor little thing got her Mother’s (my) fashion sense and putting an outfit together causes her a large amount of stress. But, even I knew (ok I think) that wearing black pants, black undershirt and a black cardigan (is that what they are called??) was too much black unless you are going to a Goth festival. I gently said, “Let’s keep looking!” With a sad sigh, she says, “Oh I just hate dressing up because I have no idea what looks good!!!” But, after digging through my closet, her closet, and her big sister’s closet, we finally found something that she felt comfortable in and it looked dressy enough for the event! Woo-hoo! Problem solved without a meltdown. I call that a win when dealing with a 13 year old girl!!!! Then she says, “Hey, I kind of want my hair curled in the morning, could you do it for me?’” My first thought was….You are leaving at 6:45. I don’t want to get up at 6:00 to curl your hair when you should be able to curl it yourself! (She has hair down to her waist and so thick she has to wear two ponytail holders to keep it up, so this is a job!!!) So, I said, “Honey you could do it, you know. It isn’t that hard!” With utter fear in her eyes, she shakes her head, (but still half smiling at least) and says, “Do you EVEN know me?!?!” Then says, “Oh, don’t worry about it, it’s really ok. I can just wear it in a ponytail!” To give you a little background on this girl. She always just wears it in a ponytail. She does not wear an ounce of makeup and has never even shown a slight desire to do so. She is simple and of course, in her Mother’s eyes…Simply Beautiful. Most 13 (almost 14) year olds can’t leave the house without make-up and they spend many hours in front of a mirror. I did. Her sister before her did. But not Kierstyn. She is completely fine being simple. It is one of my favorite things about her. So thankfully at that moment, I realized that she just wanted to be a little fancier on this particular day. So I stopped myself. I stopped my own selfish and irritated feelings that so easily creep up. I realized that if my sweet girl needed help curling her hair, then it was a privilege to be able to help her, no matter how early I would have to get up. I told her I would be glad to do it. She gave me the biggest hug and said, “Thank you for everything tonight.” Boy does that feel good! Then this morning, as I curled that long thick head of hair, I actually found myself thankful that she still needs me. I have a 19 year old that graduated last year and so I am well aware that the time is short. I wish I could say that I always react this way but it would be a lie. So often, I forget to be compassionate. So often I lecture them about getting things done ahead of time so we aren’t scrambling to find outfits the night before. So often I tell them that I am tired or don’t have the time or etc. etc etc. These times always end in many tears and a Mom that can’t sleep at night because she is laying in bed feeling so much guilt. But when we offer patience and grace, it is simply amazing what can be accomplished. She looked beautiful this morning. Her hair was gorgeous and she walked out with a confidence that I know came from having someone help her rather than criticise her for not being good enough and I was able to start my day without that dreaded Mom guilt!!! Oh, if only I could remember this every time!!
It has been 6 weeks since I dropped my oldest off at College. Talk about an event that will make you reflective. As every single one of us Mommas know, the time literally flies by. You feel like one minute you are bringing them home for the very first time and the next minute, you are moving them out. I struggled. I struggled a lot. To the point, that I didn’t know if I was normal and even had to ask on Facebook if other Moms were losing it like I was. The general consensus was, yes. It is just hard. It just is. Graduation was definitely emotional for me, but it was also exciting and I really got into planning the perfect party for her, so it was also kind of fun. I knew in my heart though, that the hard part was three (way too quick) months ahead of me. Oh, how I dreaded that day that her Daddy and I drove her to college. Oh, how I dreaded that first night laying in bed counting all of my chicks and knowing one was no longer in my safe and secure nest. Oh, how I dreaded the family meals that she would no longer be sitting at. But alas, it was happening, whether I wanted it to or not. If my mind tried to wander to thinking about it, I immediately shut it down. I wanted to wish it away. But I couldn’t. Life was changing whether my Momma heart was ready for it or not. My family was going to be different now, whether I was ready for it or not. For the two weeks before, my eyes were constantly tearing up at just about anything, but I was not prepared for the downpour that would be coming my way soon. We spent the entire day before she had to leave, together. Talking, reminiscing, and a whole lot of crying. It was such a wonderful day. But then the dreaded morning came and in those early morning hours, before I woke her up for the last time in her bedroom, I literally sobbed as I took my shower. I had to get myself together though and so I did. Well, I did the best I could anyway. I went in to wake her up one last time and laid down beside her in her bed. I tried to muffle my soft cries and hide that her Momma was losing it, but she knew, cause she knows her Momma too well, and we had been crying many tears together for the past two weeks as we talked about this dreaded day. But time waits for no one. Her car was packed, my suburban was packed, the gas tanks were full and it was time to leave. She tearfully kissed her little siblings goodbye as they slept and we drove away knowing that she was taking the final drive from her childhood. We arrived at a very busy college campus and got right to unloading, unpacking, getting some forgotten supplies at Walmart, and getting her room put together before it was time for the parents to say goodbyes. Upon walking into her room, the first thing we went to do was get her bed raised and wouldn’t you know it, the stupid thing broke and we had to wait for a maintenance man to fix it.
I tried to keep myself together as I went and asked the RA how long it would take. No one seemed to be able to give me an answer, which just contributed more to my distressed state of mind. As dumb as this sounds, I NEEDED to make that bed for her. I NEEDED to see her room completed before I could leave that stupid place that was taking my child!!!! But all I could do was hope and pray that the maintenance man understood this huge Momma need and would get there quickly. Much to my distress, we had to leave it as it was to go to the final meeting and then we were “supposed” to say our goodbyes. But, little did I know that during that meeting, my sweet wonderful husband went and pleaded with them to get the bed up for me. When we walked into the room, the most wonderful sight my eyes had ever seen, layed before me. A bed ready to be made!! The three of us made it together. 
My mind the entire time was thinking about the first baby bed I made for her (the one she never actually slept in because she slept with me every single night), the toddler bed that I begged her to try, the full size bed that her and her brother slept in together for an hour before they showed up in our bed, the bunk bed that she fell out of and broke her arm, the teenage bed that I could never get her out of in the mornings. And now this bed, two and a half hours away from my bed, was made, and was the final thing that had to happen before I could leave. All day long, she was so nervous. She kept saying, “Please just take me home” … “I can’t do this” … “Don’t leave me”…”I don’t want to go to college” etc, etc, etc. Now, she was mostly teasing, but she was also genuinely nervous about all that was ahead of her. So, when I said, “Well honey, I guess it’s time for us to leave,” she looked at me with the same fear in her eyes that she looked at me with when I dropped her off at Kindergarten for the first time and said with a tremble in her voice, “Wait, you are leaving now?!” “Yeah, honey, we better.” I knew I had to, even though every fiber of me wanted to stay. I had to let her step out into the big ole world and I had to let my helicopter wings fly away. We gave our tearful hugs and I tried my hardest to hold it together until I made it out of the doors and then I absolutely lost it once I made it to the vehicle. 
The next week was tough. Tougher than I even expected. I don’t know how to explain it but I felt almost like she was a stranger, which is probably what was the hardest. I didn’t know how much or how often I should call, text, etc. I didn’t want to seem like the needy Mom and annoy her. I didn’t want to put pressure on her to call me or text me back immediately or to tell me every detail that was going on in her life. (even though I wanted to know them). This was just such new territory for me and it was tough. I wanted to know she was doing wonderful, but I also wanted to know that she missed us, but not so much that she was miserable, of course. Now, I can tell you that all of those feelings left very quickly and now our relationship is even better than it ever was. I have come to a realization that the final loss of childhood innocence happens on that day that they leave. That day is the day that they learn that they really can fly on their own, as do we, and it changes things. Your relationship is one of those things. But I can tell you that it is a wonderful change because I finally get to just be her friend. Now, this doesn’t mean my job as a parent is over. She will still ask for advice, and when I am asked, I will give it. I will still worry uncontrollably about her but I finally get to release the pressure of knowing that every decision I make, could affect her. And I now know that I am her Momma, no matter how far away I am. That does not mean I won’t annoy her every now and then or that there will be times that I will call and be able to tell she is in the middle of her Netflix show and is trying to be nice but really doesn’t want to be talking to me. But I am the one she will call when she doesn’t know how to fill out a form, or when she is stressed about a class or just needs to hear our voices. She often calls me when she is walking to her classes and those 2-minute conversations are some of my favorite parts of the day. She has come home a couple of weekends already and I just love those days that my family is as it is supposed to be. I still cry when she drives away and I still check my location app to see where she is every 30 minutes and I breathe a sigh of relief when she arrives at the dorms. But I now know that I will be ok and that while the new normal, isn’t necessarily something I want, it is the way it is supposed to be. I once read a quote that said, “A Mother’s Job is to teach her children not to need her anymore. The hardest part of that job, is accepting success.” I now understand that more than ever.
Tots, Teens, & In Betweens 