There. I said it.

I don't like Mother's Day. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm unbelievably thankful for all of my mothers... {{The one who gave birth to me and then being amazingly selfless, chose adoption and gave me to another... The one who prayed endlessly for me to come into her life, then gave me a childhood most people only dream of having... And the one who through patience, love, and  undoubtedly lots of prayer raised my husband to be a respectful, loving, sensitive, strong, and Godly man... I am crazy-thankful for these women.}} but seriously, I don't like Mother's Day.

There's so much pressure. So many expectations (is it just me, or does everyone expect to not have to give kids baths or vacuum out the car on Mother's Day?) and often times (in my life anyway) it just doesn't work like that. Our morning wasn't ideal, by any means. It wasn't the typical breakfast-in-bed-and-handmade-cards that you think of when "Mother's Day" is near. 

But really, not liking Mother's Day has nothing to do with the fact that mine was different than "normal" or less than what I had expected. (We did go to Portland and had a wonderful afternoon with my parents and brother.) I don't like Mother's Day because I find so much more joy in every day than could ever possibly be packed into one day with a "Mother's" label on it (throw up in your mouth if you have to, but it's true for the most part).

Every time I hear my kids laughing with each other, it's more beautiful to me than a bouquet of flowers. When my husband randomly tells me he knows it's not an easy job, but he really appreciates how hard I work for our family, it's better than runny eggs and burned toast served on a platter in bed.

I realize that when I really think about it, getting woken up at 4:00am to change wet sheets, give a hug, and whisper, "it's no big deal" to one of my children doesn't make Mother's Day "less-than." It makes every single day Mother's Day because every day I am nothing but blessed to just get to be my kids' Mommy.

Waiting

I heard once that if your dreams are achievable without God's help then they aren't big enough. My dreams are not achievable without God. Not even close. So I have to wait on Him to move - and He's showing me that I'm not super great at being patient and waiting for His timing. When I pray and wait with no apparent, obvious or immediate answer I start to question myself. And Him. And I start to let fear and doubt creep into my heart instead of resting in Him and trusting that He did indeed bring us (Jeff and I - we're sort of pair, you know, "we are one" and all) to this place in our hearts and that He will see us through when it's the right time.

Man, that's a hard word, though. When. It leaves so much unknown. But it's not really unknown, it's just unknown to me. I need to be okay with that. I'm learning to be. But if there's one thing I've found out about myself lately it's that I'm not patient. Not that I haven't known that - not that I'm not reminded of that when I get my whine on every time I feel like nothing is going my way, but it's one area where I feel like God is really working on my heart (you know, in addition to the negativity - good thing He's God - it's a huge undertaking).

I do trust Him. I will wait on His direction. I will allow Him to soften my heart as I wait, even though it's painful, because even when it's painful for me HE is still worthy to be loved, worthy to be worshipped, worthy to be trusted and worthy to be waited on.

It was an early morning this morning. Jack turns three today and Natalie turns eight tomorrow so they excitedly woke up before usual. I didn't mind, really. It was fun hearing them sing "Happy Birthday" to each other in Natalie's room and anyway - I was (am) determined to have a good attitude today (see post below) and simply count my blessings and press on with my heart full of thankfulness no matter how early I had to get up...

After getting out of bed, I started on my "list." I knew that Jeff was tired (he had an extra busy, stressful, emotional week) so I thought I'd try to keep the kids quiet quieter than usual and just let him sleep in a while. I jumped right into the things I had to get done. I fed the kids and the dog. I made coffee and did the dishes. I helped the kids pick out clothes for today (because I'm anal and controlling we're leaving the house) and then helped them make their beds (because I'm anal and controlling we're having people over later today). I finished decorating the living room and dining room for the kids' birthday party tomorrow and started another load of laundry. While I am doing all of this my husband is sweetly getting some much needed rest. Or so I thought...

As I'm trying to have a good attitude and be a servant to others so that I can be more appreciative of all the blessings in my life - I get interrupted by a vibrating cell phone text message - from my husband. He is in our bedroom. He wants coffee. (Insert negative sarcastic comment about pressing my buttons and his luck in one fell swoop here.)

Thank you Lord, for another opportunity to be a servant this morning. I am thankful that I have such a hard working, and sweet husband who can take a loving kidney punch like no other. Amen.

Happy Anniversary

Dear Jeff,

Remember that one time when we were 12 and you broke up with me because I was too scared to kiss you? Yes you do. Uh, YES... YOU DO. Well, anyway, that was a long time ago. 18 years ago, to be exact. Now, exactly half of those 18 years I have had the privilege of being your wife (although, I'm pretty sure you only asked me after I assured you I'd gotten over the kissing stuff).

When I married you I had no idea (really) what kind of husband you would be (or what kind of wife I would be for that matter). We were young (only a few months past our teens!). We were in the middle of college. We were living with 6 other people. We didn't know what to expect - at all. But I didn't care. I knew that I would rather have a million unknowns with you, than have any other life without you. I remember being in premarital counseling with our pastor and him chuckling as he said, "I know you guys think you love each other now - and I don't doubt that you do - but you just wait. As time goes on you'll really come to understand what loving each other looks like." I think we're there (although I also think it's safe to say we both hope not all the way). I agree that when we got married we loved each other (duh), but really it looked very little like the way we love each other now. We have grown. We have ebbed and flowed into a fun, trusting, loving, respectful, God-centered marriage - and I am so proud of us (and thankful to Him) for that.

I am beyond thankful to have a husband who seeks the Lord. Diligently. I am thankful that you treat me lovingly, even when we are in disagreement over something. You are kind. Not just "nice," but really kind - like to your core. I appreciate that in all of the time I have known you, you have never called me a harsh name, not even once (well - at least not loud enough that I heard it) .

I honestly love being married to you. I laugh hard and I laugh often. I love that you are the spiritual leader of our family and you lead well. You are an amazing Dad to our children and I love raising our kids with you.

Over the years we have learned to laugh when we could cry, pray when we could panic, praise because we are thankful and love all the time. Thank you, babe. Thank you for growing up with me and for the promise of growing old with me. I have never, even for a second, regretted my yes.