A Bunch of Rocks

Just after we pass through the crosswalk, the sidewalk takes a hard right turn followed immediately by a hard left turn.  Then the path heads up the hill towards the school.  While the weather stays warm, we walk this path everyday.  Sometimes twice a day we walk up and down this stretch of sidewalk.

Today as we trudge along, Norah is drawn to the sea of gravel on the left-hand side.  Her class is currently studying geology and she is constantly on the look-out for interesting rocks to take to school.  To me, this desert-friendly rock-filled landscaping is blah.  Lots of rounded grayish rocks dumped on the hill to keep the weeds out.  To Norah this is a geological find!

"This one is shaped like a hot dog and it's gritty.  Could be sandstone."

"This rock has pink spots.  Maybe it's rose quartz."

"Look at the sparkles in this rock.  Do you think it's mica?"

She walks alongside the double stroller showing me each rock.  Upon closer inspection, I see that indeed the rocks are different.  They are distinct - each unique in their colors, their compositions and their shapes.

Norah stoops down and retrieves yet another rock.

"Look, Mom, this is called a wishing rock.  It's all dark except for this pinkish white line of rock.  I wonder how it got that line.  I'm going to show this one to the class."

As we approach the school, Norah adds her new rocks to her collection in her backpack.  I tease her about how much lighter her backpack will be once they move on from studying geology.  I hear her growing collection rattle around as she hefts her bag onto her shoulders.

"Bye, Mom!"

On my return trip back down the hill, I pass by the rock pile again, but this time I am trying to see this accumulation of stones and gravel differently.  Trying to see it through Norah's eyes.

There is a yellow rock.  But not just yellow ... yellow striped.  It has ochre layers running horizontally.

This rock is most definitely purple and there is a dimple on one side.  Almost like a kidney bean.

A few feet away I see a black rock with small pockets of white.  Imagine a die in reverse.

That one is blue, while its neighbor has more green in its pigment.  Not "green grass" green, but certainly not gray.

Some are rounded, others have sharp edges, while still others would make perfect skipping stones.

Scattered throughout this expanse of stones, there are larger rocks.  You might even call them boulders. These dozen goliaths stand out among the little rocks and catch my attention as well.

As I slow my steps and take the time to really see the rocks, I discover their individuality. And I am struck with their similarities to us as a collection of people.

I live in a sea of humanity, much like that little yellow-striped rock sits in a sea of stones.  From a distance both physically and emotionally, I look just like anyone else.

I'm female.
I have brownish hair.
I wear glasses.
I'm a mom.
I am roundish.
I like to sparkle.
I'm small.

What sets me apart from the rest of the crowd?  What makes me special?  Remarkable?  Noticeable?

Could I ever be a boulder?  Standing out from this assembly of souls?

I don't imagine that I will ever be a boulder like Mother Teresa or Martin Luther King, Jr., or Billy Graham, but does that lessen my significance?

With a grateful heart I rejoice that God sees me when He looks at His creation.

Permit me a little liberty with this illustration ...

"Look down at the sea of stones at your feet:

Who created all these?

He who carved out the sandy multitude one by one

and calls forth each of them by name.

Because of His great power and mighty strength,

no one of them is missing" (Isaiah 40:26)

Somehow, He is able to pick each one of us out of this knot of humanity and see us clearly and closely.  While we might feel lost in His collection, we aren't.  We are each unique, distinct and precious.

We are each His favorite.

Day 1:  Mom in the Midst

Day 2:  My Button is Lame

Day 3:  Splendidly Lavish

Day 4:  Keeping My Head Above Water

Day 5:  Time-Warp Wednesday ~ Little Me

Day 6:  Me, Myself & I

Day 7:  Food For Though ~ Bacon

Day 8:  The Aches and Pains of Service

Day 9:  I Heart You

Day 10:  Who is Me? {part 1}

Day 11:  Who is Me? {part 2}

Day 12:  Who is Me?  {part 3}

Day 13:  Handmade with Care

Day 14:  Food For Thought ~ Carmel & Apples

Day 15:  A Bunch of Rocks

Who is Me? {part 3}

For the past two days I have been sharing about how God finds us beautiful on the inside and about how He wants that beauty to shine on the outside.  Today I am excited to share about God's desire for us to follow our Passions ... and add to His beauty around us!

Here is the final installment of my mini-series on our identity.  Enjoy ... and be inspired!

If you were to ask my mom, she would tell you that I’ve always loved to write.  At a very young age, maybe 7 or 8, I wrote my first book.  It was about a girl and her horse and I remember I used the word “humongous” multiple times.  Later on, I was famous for my storytelling.  As kids, my siblings and I would pile into one room and I would tell silly stories until my audience drifted off to sleep.  Even now, if I have a episode with the kids to retell, I can’t just say:  “Ashley stepped in some red ants and nuts.”  I have to tell you just what happened.  For example, I recently recounted just such an adventure.  Here's a snippet ...

Sweet Le-le screamed and started tap-dancing in place.  Her little legs were flailing around.  She flapped her arms wildly, sending her jangle-y bracelets up into the air, scattering across the sidewalk.  She was terrified.  (And so was that poor little ant.)

I got back into the habit of writing when Aaron was born.  I would of send out to family and friends newsy little emails sharing our adventures with pureed peas and trips down that twisty slide at the park.  I loved chronicling my stay-at-home days (it gave them significance) and people loved hearing from me.

As you can see, I love words and I’ve always loved how you could string them together to create a story.  But, I would never have considered myself to be a writer.  That title, that identity was not something I could claim as my own.  It was too lofty, too esteemed, too highly regarded for little ol’ me.

That is until God started calling me out.  A few years ago, I had people (people besides my mom, that is) asking me what I was going to do with my writing.  I would shrug and shake my head ... just as curious as my inquirers.  Then last year, my mom suggested I start a blog.  The first thing I did when I got home was to Google, “Blog”.

It was then that I really felt like God opened a door for a passion that He has been nurturing for a long time.  Suddenly at my fingertips was a place for all these words and sentences and stories that were piling up in my head.  Within reach was a platform for sharing my heart about the worthiness, the challenges, the exasperations and the privileges of mothering.  In my hands was an opportunity to grow in a whole new way, to develop a gift that God had given me and share His grace and beauty with my readers.  

Since that first post here on, Snapshots, I have discovered that I am in fact a writer.  This doesn’t surprise my mom ... but I am daily stunned and humbled by that title.  

As I go about my day, I feel like my eyes are open to everyday experiences that actually have spiritual significance.  I have front row seats to the snapshots God points out and suddenly the ordinary aspects of my day (laundry, dishes, walking to school and bed time routines) are sacred.  I get so excited when I finally get to sit down at the computer to transfer those thoughts to the computer screen.  And no one is mores surprised than me at what comes out of my fingertips!  This writing gig is 100% God!

I fully believe each of us is hardwired with passions God has given us.  Think through your life and interests.  Maybe it’s music, art, cooking, teaching, crafting, dance, serving, sports, a church ministry, hospitality, interior design, make-up and hairstyling, sewing, gardening, crafting ... the list goes on and on.  


In order to discern what your passion is (and distinguish it from, say, an interest), I would encourage you to ask the following questions:

• What energizes you? (actually charges your batteries)
• What excites you?  (you think and talk about it a lot)
• What do you think about doing with longing?  (wishing you had more time to do it)
• What activity can you lose yourself in?  (5 o’clock already?!)
• What makes you sad or frustrated if it’s lacking?
• What gifts and abilities has God given you? (others can help here)

Once you have pinpointed your passion, it’s time to cultivate it.  And this is the most challenging aspect!  Especially as mothers of preschoolers.  The demands on our time and energy often result in our allowing our God-given passions to go dormant.  That’s perfectly natural for this season of life, but we don’t have to ignore it completely.  In fact, I don’t think it’s healthy for us to put our passions into a MOPS-induced coma!

God gave us these passions with three purposes:  to bring Him glory, to benefit others and to fill us with joy as we share the beauty He has imparted to us in our own unique way.  If we neglect our passions, those things don’t happen.  And personally, I don’t want to miss out on the satisfaction, joy and fullness that comes with writing!

So ... what does this look like in my life today?

• I have to be intentional about carving out time to write.  (nap time and some evenings)
• I have to be realistic.  (not my first priority ... it will get bumped)
• I have to be willing to sacrifice a bit.  (giving up other pleasures to capture available moments)
• I have to be creative. (any opportunity to write, jotting down thoughts for later times)
• I have to be patient.  (not my season to devote hours to writing ... but someday)
• I have to be focused.  (the purpose of this passion is to join God in sharing His beauty)

I want to leave you with a song of encouragement.  This is by one of my favorite, passionate musicians.  Sara Groves is an inspiration to me.  She is a songwriter, a story-teller, a transparent lover of Jesus and a mom.  Her songs have ministered to me in powerful ways throughout this journey of redeeming my Person, revamping my Package and releasing my Passion.

Add To The Beauty

by Sara Groves & Matt Bronlewee

We come with beautiful secrets
We come with purposes written on our hearts, written on our souls
We come to every new morning
With possibilities only we can hold, that only we can hold

Redemption comes in strange place, small spaces
Calling out the best of who we are

And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story
I want to shine with the light
That's burning up inside

It comes in small inspirations
It brings redemption to life and work
To our lives and our work

It comes in loving community

It comes in helping a soul find it's worth

Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces
Calling out the best of who we are

And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story
I want to shine with the light
That's burning up inside

This is grace, an invitation to be beautiful
This is grace, an invitation

Redemption comes in strange places, small spaces
Calling out our best

And I want to add to the beauty
To tell a better story
I want to shine with the light
That's burning up inside

Now it's your turn ... how are you going to add to the beauty?

___________________________________

Day 1:  Mom in the Midst

Day 2:  My Button is Lame

Day 3:  Splendidly Lavish

Day 4:  Keeping My Head Above Water

Day 5:  Time-Warp Wednesday ~ Little Me

Day 6:  Me, Myself & I

Day 7:  Food For Though ~ Bacon

Day 8:  The Aches and Pains of Service

Day 9:  I Heart You

Day 10:  Who is Me? {part 1}

Day 11:  Who is Me? {part 2}

Day 12:  Who is Me? {part 3}

Who is Me? {part 2}

Yesterday I shared with you about the joy of discovering that God sees us as beautiful and graceful.  Today it's time to see how that inner beauty eeks out for the rest of world to see it!

Here's what I shared at our MOPS group ...

I fully believe that I would never have been able to move on to the next aspect of finding me if I hadn’t first discovered the beauty within.  God first had to redeem me as a person before He could release me to revamp my outward Package.

As I began to soak up this new internal identity, I experienced an overwhelming sense of freedom.  It was glorious!  Those standards that I had set for myself were slowly eroding away (along with my own self-judgements) and I found myself liking me a lot more.  And as I began to like who I was on the inside, I discovered that I wanted to reflect that inner beauty on the outside.

The challenge, however, was the fact that at the same time, I was a mom to three preschoolers and that meant that my fashion needs were low on the to-do list.  Really low.  Lower than the need to wash bathrooms or bathe my little people.  Yes, that low.  Add the fact that I was still wrestling with my own personal value and worth and you can be assured that I contented myself with pony-tail hair-do’s and any number of fashion-don’ts.

I continued to hide my graceful and beautiful person in a rather unattractive package.  My wardrobe consisted of over-sized tops and jeans from the 90’s ... the ones with the waist so high that it almost made a bra optional.  I resisted any clothing or accessories that called attention to me (good attention for being fashion conscious, that is) and I settled for being a bit invisible.

But, it’s no good being a new creation on the inside, while still presenting to the rest of the world the image of someone who doubts her self-worth.  This is where Brett comes in.  I remember the first piece of bling that he bought me.  I’m wearing it today.  When I opened the box, the first thought that popped into my head was, “Wow ... that is too big and too sparkly.  I could never wear that?”  I felt undeserving of that necklace, but that gift was bought because I am worth it.

Since that moment (and with a lot of encouragement from Brett) I have begun to allow the inward beauty that God sees to show up more and more on the outside.  And strangely enough, this has had a cyclical effect.  As I take care of myself and present myself as someone graceful and beautiful, I feel better about me and I act more graceful and beautiful.  And I can say with all honesty that Stacy and Clinton from What Not to Wear are fantastic resources for tips on revamping our packaging!

Of course, this is going to look different for each of us.  For some of us, we might find that a little bit of sparkle goes a long way.  For others of us, we might discover the more bling the better!  Truly, our outward presentation doesn’t matter much except that it is a reflection of how we value ourselves.  And when we acknowledge that we are worth clothes that fit us well, worth a hair style that is flattering, worth jewelry that compliments our features and even worth a little makeup to lesson the effects of nighttime nursing, I think we might find that each of us are incredibly beautiful packages!

Come back tomorrow for the final installment of "Who is Me?" ... as we join God in adding to the beauty around us!

___________________________________

Day 1:  Mom in the Midst

Day 2:  My Button is Lame

Day 3:  Splendidly Lavish

Day 4:  Keeping My Head Above Water

Day 5:  Time-Warp Wednesday ~ Little Me

Day 6:  Me, Myself & I

Day 7:  Food For Though ~ Bacon

Day 8:  The Aches and Pains of Service

Day 9:  I Heart You

Day 10:  Who is Me? {part 1}

Day 11:  Who is Me? {part 2}

Who is Me? {part 1}

I was recently invited to speak at our MOPS meeting about our identities as moms.  As you can imagine, the message that evolved wasn't just limited to mothers of preschoolers, but was relevant to a vast audience.  My talk still focused on moms, but I think that we can all acknowledge that we've wondered ...

Who am I?

Who am I on the inside?
Who am I on the outside?
What do I have to give to those around me?

Within this 31 Day series, Mom in the Midst, I want to share with you a mini-series of sorts ...

Who is Me?

My daughter has a favorite game that she loves to play.  It’s a bit of a spin off of “Guess Who?” in that you are trying to ask just the right questions in order to determine your own identity.  It’s called, “Guess What I Am”, but in Ashley’s sweet little 4 year old talk, this game quickly became known as “Who Is Me?”  And as you can see in this picture, Ashley is Nemo.

I thought it would be funny to play a little “Who is Me?” this morning.

In any given day, I fill each and every one of these roles:  teacher, chef, nurse, maid, taxi driver and cheerleader ... but that isn't actually who I am.  My identity goes a little deeper than my ability to cook perfect mac-n-cheese or count to 100.


I want to share a little bit with you about how I have begun to answer that question, “Who Is Me?” by taking a peek at my journey of discovering who God says I am.

First, I want to talk about me as a Person.

If we were to go back in time a few years, you would find me a very different person.  I would have described myself as uptight, controlling, needy and ultra-sensitive.  Not the most complimenting of adjectives.  I had a death grip on my life and without necessarily meaning to, I had a tendency to plan my days to death.  I had my identity wrapped up in a nice little box, too.  This need for control was not a good thing, but I was too frightened to let go.  What if releasing my grip resulted in something messy or (heaven forbid!) unplanned?

Eventually, as you moms know, there comes a time when you realize that you can’t control everything.  Your precious little bundle is not a robot to be programmed but a person to be nurtured and it became painfully obvious to me that I needed to let go of this illusion of perfection and control.  Gratefully God was present as I relaxed my grasping hands.

This turning point came about four years ago.  During my own private time with God, I was wrestling with this fear and anxiety about not meeting the high standards that I had set for myself.  Not standards anyone else set for me, mind you.  These were expectations that I had of me.  During one particular afternoon, I remember I was sitting in my chair in the sun and I had just finished a section of a Bible study I was working on when I came across the word, “Charis”.  This word lit up for me.  It was like a neon sign blinking on Broadway!  And as I sat there, I knew that God was speaking to me.  

Charis is the Greek word for “grace”, but it’s actually packed with significance.  Here is the extended definition:

• Bestows pleasure, delight, favorable regard
• Beauty and gracefulness
• Friendly disposition out of which proceeds graciousness, loving-kindness, compassion and good will.
• Free and Spontaneous
• God’s pleasure and joy

That knocked my out of my chair!  Those are not any words that I would have used to describe myself, but I feel very strongly that this was who God saw when He looked at me.  

There was not an instantaneous change in my life after this day.  But with these words burned into my mind and my heart, I slowly saw myself embracing this new identity.  And as I accepted the truth that God loves me and sees me as precious and as a pleasure and a joy, my life began to reflect that.  I am still in the throws of allowing God to transform my life (it is a definite wrestling match at times) but He is faithful to keep wooing me.  It’s astonishing to me the frequency with which this word pops up in my life ... a gentle reminder from God.

I would strongly encourage you to look to God’s word to discover again your identity in Him.  And then savor that.  Soak it up like a sponge and let Him work in you.  The Bible is full of verses that describe who you are to God.  Here are a few that I would share with you:

1 John 3:1  See what great love the Father has lavished on us, that we should be called children of God!  And that is what we are!

Colossians 2:9-10  You have been given fullness in Christ.

Psalm 139:13  For You created me in my inmost being; You knit me together in my mother's womb.  I praise You because I am fearfully and wonderfully made.

Ephesians 2:10  For we are God's workmanship, created in Christ Jesus to do good works, which God prepared in advance for us to do.

2 Corinthians 5:17  Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation:  The old has gone, the new has come.

1 John 5:4  For everyone born of God overcomes the world.  This is the victory that has overcome the world, even our faith.

2 Timothy 1:7  For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline.

I fully believe that I would never have been able to move on to the next aspect of finding me if I hadn’t first discovered the beauty within.  God first had to redeem me as a person before He could release me to revamp my outward Package.


But more on that tomorrow ...
___________________________________

Day 1:  Mom in the Midst

Day 2:  My Button is Lame

Day 3:  Splendidly Lavish

Day 4:  Keeping My Head Above Water

Day 5:  Time-Warp Wednesday ~ Little Me

Day 6:  Me, Myself & I

Day 7:  Food For Though ~ Bacon

Day 8:  The Aches and Pains of Service

Day 9:  I Heart You

Day 10:  Who is Me? {part 1}

Polynesia

The other day I was in the basement waiting to put my little Ashley down for her nap.  As I sat there, I surveyed the disaster zone ... toys strewn haphazardly around the floor, doll legs hanging out of the dress-up bin, a half-built race track dangling from the bookshelf, PlayMobile people scattered across the carpet like a long line of refugees looking for asylum and the play kitchen devoid of all food paraphernalia because it's in a heap on the floor.  Sigh ... and a mental note to do some serious purging down there! 


Ashley was taking an inordinately long time to join me downstairs, so I took advantage of a few minutes to tidy several bins.  Underneath a purple, feather-fringed cape I found a blow-up beach ball globe.  I knew the kids had been looking for this (and they never would have thought to look there!) so I set it beside me to take back upstairs.


Still waiting for Ashley ... doo-dee-doo ... 


I glanced over at the globe on the futon beside me and the bold letters "Polynesia" caught my eye.  It stretched across a large portion of the Pacific Ocean and dotted here and there among the letters were little islands.  According to this globe, those islands didn't have names, they just belonged to "Polynesia" and that struck me as puzzling.


About then Ashley finally dawdled downstairs and snuggled into her bed.  I tucked her in and then tucked the beach ball under my arm and headed upstairs for my own quiet time.  But that word "P-o-l-y-n-e-s-i-a" stretched across all that water and all those islands and all those people was still kind of pestering me.


Here's what Merriam-Webster has to say about it:


Polynesia |ˌpäləˈnē zh ə|a region of the central Pacific Ocean that lies east of Micronesia and Melanesia and contains the easternmost of the three large groups of Pacific islands, including Hawaii, the Marquesas Islands, Samoa, the Cook Islands, and French Polynesia


That's a lot of territory for just one little word.  I would imagine that there are a lot of people on those islands that have a lot more to say about themselves.  I imagine that they have individual names, unique cultures, distinct traditions and their own remarkable identities.  And they would probably appreciate being recognized for their individuality and their uniqueness.  Instead of being glomped all together.


And maybe that's why that globe struck me like it did.  Because ... I know that I'm not much different in that respect.  I don't much appreciate when I am assigned to a broad, generalized category like:  Mom, Christian or Woman.  I am a unique individual and I like it that way.


I have carved out my identity as a mom and while I can relate to other moms, I'm not just like all the other moms.  We each have our own tricks of the trade and our own challenges and our own perspectives about the "rights and wrongs" of parenting.  Each of us faces the challenges of discovering what works for our family:  spanking or time out; homeschool or public school or private school; mac-n-cheese or whole grain noodles with red sauce; sleep with mom or sleep with stuffy; The Wiggles or Veggie Tales; and breastfeeding or bottles ... just to name a few!  I love to lend encouragement and, when asked, advice.  And I appreciate hearing from other moms and gaining insight into how they handle challenges and celebrate milestones.  But I get to choose what my Mommy-Identity looks like and it looks different than those around me.


I have also embraced my identity as a Christian ... but I know that my spiritual life looks different than other Christians around me.  This is one area of labeling that really bothers me because it's such a personal aspect of life.  I will make many choices for myself that are not spelled out word for word in the Bible.  And it's important for me to not pass judgement on others because they choose not to do things different than me.  


I also don't like to be clumped together with other Christians when they speak their minds ... especially when they shouldn't have.  When I hear about a church leader making a brash statement that wouldn't have come out of Jesus' mouth, I cringe.   I don't want to be associated with that sort of yuck, and yet so often that un-Jesus-like comment gets attributed to the group as a whole and it makes me want to come up with a different name just for me & Jesus! :)  In truth, that is just the way it is (what with us none of us being perfect) and my responsibility is to live my life in such a way that is above reproach and try to be a better reflection of who Jesus really is and what He would really say and do.


I have also accepted my identity as a woman ... and not a size 2 woman, but me.  I am so tired of feeling like I need to measure up by being several sizes smaller.  Nothing puts me in a sour mood quicker than going clothes shopping and finding myself grumbling about the emaciated mannequins wearing, as Liz Lemon would say, "A Vietnamese, size 2" and then being less than thrilled when I see the same top on a normal-sized person.  That would be me.  I'd be the normal-sized person. :)  Those letters (S, M, L) and numbers (10, 12, 14, 16) are not my identity ... they are sizes arbitrarily assigned to a pair of pants!


Whew ... sorry about that.  I got a little worked up there! :)  That just really irks me.  


ahem ... where was I?


Oh yes ... I am a woman.  And I am uniquely made.  I have my own interests, my own sense of humor, my own passions, my own anxieties, my own quirks ... just the way God made me.  And I don't want to feel like I should apologize for those differences or try to be like anyone else.  I am not cookie-cutter made.  And I'm not a nameless person in a sea of people.  I'm me.


I understand that on a little plastic beach ball globe, you can't list Pukapuka, Funafuti or Manihiki ... or all the other hundreds of islands found there ... but I can try to look past that little label to see the life-sized people living there with their own quirks and personalities!