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Dear Moms- I dare you

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Join me in The Mom Dare with my friend, Krista Gilbert over at Meaning in a Minute.

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Moms –
You are the difference-makers. Change agents. Heroes. What you do every day – the hugging, working, teaching, organizing, praying, carpooling, cleaning, playing, laughing, crying, serving, and giving – it changes the world by deeply impacting those right at your kitchen table.

We see you. We like you. We know you – because we are also you.

We are moms….and when we find some time, we also write. And we’ve gathered together as a group to bring you a dare that is just for you.

Enjoy – we think we’ll have some fun together!

Here is what you will get when you take the Mom Dare:

  • 12 days of 1 minute dares for moms of faith (even moms have one minute)!
  • A special interview with a different blogger/writer every day.
  • Free printables and ideas.
  • Encouragement for the journey of motherhood.
  • An invitation to be a part of an exclusive Facebook group for the Mom Dare where you can ask the writers questions, and receive feedback.

The dare kicks off this coming Sunday, May 8 (MOTHER’S DAY!) and will run through Thursday, May 19. I will be featured on May 17th and I’d love to hear from you on that day!

Sign up for the dare here!

 

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Maybe Our Best Gifts Shouldn’t Be On Social Media

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Listen to the audio recording of today’s post here

A couple of weekends ago, I had 3 full days to myself in my own home. I can’t remember ever having that much time to myself. It’s a real gift to the introvert. The days approaching I dared not allow myself to get excited for fear plans would fall through.

The moment my family drove away, I pulled out my spray bottles of vinegar and peroxide, my dusting cloths, brooms, and mops. And I got to work. I cleaned the house from top to bottom with no distraction knowing it would stay spotless for days. All my household duties were complete by lunch and I now had the gift of time ahead of me.

I’m a productivity lover. I fill every pocket of time with a task. Sometimes I hate that about me. I resist rest because there is always work to be done. I never sit in the evenings. After the kids go to bed, there is always work to be done. I tell myself I will sit down and rest when everything is done. The problem is that it’s never all done. So I fall into bed exhausted every night.

I had a choice to make with my free weekend. I could do what I always do. Get stuff down. Work through my long list of never ending tasks. Or I could be wild and crazy with my time. I could do nothing but rest.

I battled only briefly when I decided that God was giving me a gift and I wanted to receive the gift in full. No one likes to give a gift and feel the person they gave it to didn’t really appreciate the gift fully. They half used it because they didn’t see the real value it held.

My soul was in desperate need of a gift. The gift had been given to me. I had a choice. Resist the gift or receive it in full. Sometimes the kindest thing we can do for our own soul is to receive fully the gift of rest when it’s offered to us. 

For me to accept a gift of rest isn’t easy. To rest, I had to battle guilt. Guilt over not working through the tasks. Guilt over sleeping later than normal. Guilt over reading a book for hours when that simply felt too luxurious.

It’s not just my task list that taunts me. It’s the good things even. I could use that time to write, to work on women’s ministry. The list of ways I could serve grew long. And the guilt clung tightly.

I am well familiar with the person I become when I’m serving or working on empty. When I don’t pause for a soul refill, I become a person I don’t want to be around. Bitterness creeps in. I’m quick to judge others who aren’t serving to the same capacity I am. I become a flaw pointer, noticing everything that’s not right in the people around me. It’s ugly. And it loves to rear its head when I’m in desperate need of rest and soul filling.

I’m an all or nothing kind of person. So when I made the decision to fully accept the gift of rest, free of guilt, I went all in. God did the rest. I didn’t plan one second of that weekend and I couldn’t have had a more beautiful weekend.

The first evening I spent with my dear friend, mentor, and prayer warrior. She was steps inside the door and I was captivated by her stories. I could sit and listen for hours. In fact, that is just what I did. When I finally stood up from listening, I felt lightheaded and dizzy. How long had I been engrossed in her life’s story? When I looked at the clock, it was hours past my normal dinner. A gift. How often does food in my home revolve around clocks and hungry boys? How delightful to find myself lost in her stories, losing sense of time completely. We continued sharing stories for hours over shared salads, chocolate cake, and hot tea. Bedtime was not dictated by a menacing schedule waiting for me.

The following morning I woke leisurely, which never happens. I ordered the guilty thoughts to go back to where they came from so I could wrap my arms around the gift of this very moment. Enjoying the quiet morning watching the dawning day break through the curtains.

The rest of the day I spent on my screen porch reading. Hours upon hours of reading. Finishing one book, moving on to another. A gift I had never received before. Dinner out with a friend, back home to curl up and read for another round of hours.

By the time my family arrived back home, I felt like a new person. I had nothing to show for my weekend except a smile and a settled heart. My soul felt full again, ready to serve and give and love. I was ready to be all in again.

In 13 years, I’ve never had a break quite like that. I didn’t post on social media how much I was relishing in my rest. There were several moments I found myself so grateful for the rest and felt that urge to shout it from the rooftops, which typically equates to posting on Instagram or Facebook.

I refrained. I don’t know exactly why. Maybe it was that I wanted to keep my gift a secret for a time. I wasn’t ready to give up the intimacy of the moment or to invite others into the privacy of that time. Maybe if the world came in, the rest would escape.

Maybe it was that I realized that in 13 years I’d never had a moment like that, and to share those moments would only breed discontentment and jealousy to a mom who is hanging by a thread. How often have I been hanging by that very thread only to scroll through social media and see pictures that made me want to question my own life?

Maybe a part of me thought posting those moments was such a far stretch from my real life that I couldn’t bring myself to put them out there.

I’m not exactly sure. But there is something that felt so right about holding those moments close to my heart that weekend. Sharing them with only the real live people I interacted with. Cherishing the full gift for those brief moments, afraid if I shared them, they’d slip away. They wouldn’t be a sweet gift just for me anymore.

As we head into Mother’s Day weekend, may we hold our moments close to our hearts. May we cherish the intimacy of the gifts we receive rather than share them with the world. May we remember that in our excitement over our moments, sometimes we create deep pain and discontentment in another women who isn’t currently showered with love. Or a woman who has never had an opened womb or a completed adoption. Or a mother who is working through healing relationships with her children.

Maybe the kindest gift to our soul this Mother’s Day is to fully receive the gifts we receive….and to keep it a little secret. Not inviting the world into those secret places. There’s something to treasure about the little sacred moments and gifts in a see-all, share-all world. And there is something to behold knowing that we didn’t unintentionally hurt a women who is in need of a gift but didn’t receive one.

 

So How Was Your Mother’s Day?

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I’m always embarrassed when I enter the checkout line at Trader Joe’s. It’s a small store with small buggies, and I roll in with a cart overflowing. My grocery items made known I was indeed a mother, so the checkout girl scanned item after never-ending item and asked, “So how is your Mother’s Day so far?”

I’m sure she was expecting a complaint. After all, I was at the grocery store, not exactly a massage or pedicure. She asked with hesitation, holding her breath anticipating my response.

“You know, my children are alive, they are breathing, I have three boys. I couldn’t have a better Mother’s Day.” The young man bagging my groceries paused, glanced up, and continued stuffing bags. “It’s neat you look at it like that.”

I wanted to say more to this young man, but I knew if I opened my mouth, he might get more than he bargained for. Like a 38-year-old woman crying over realizing she is ungratefully blessed most days.

Mother’s Day. If I had spent much time on Facebook, I may have been tempted to feel cheated out of “my” day. Selfish, right? I would be lying if I didn’t admit there were a few moments I felt that twinge of jealousy that another mother was being pampered while my day felt just like every other day.

That is when the Holy Spirit spoke louder.

Another day of this. This life of laundry, groceries, church, baseball games, arguing, laughing, crying, tasting, feeling, moving. Life. Happy Mother’s Day! That’s the moment I understood. The celebration is in the ordinary.

I didn’t need to be showered with gifts, pampered with affection, or catered to. I had this day, this life, these children. This is my gift.

I thought back over the morning. Beautiful graces all morning long. A sweet note tucked in my purse from one son, another son clearing away piles from the stairs – without being asked, a husband writing me precious words and jumping to do all he could to show me he appreciates what I do.

So I battled in my mind, which is where the fight for peace happens. I stilled the shouts of the world, and listened for the voice of the Holy Spirit.

Surrounded by blessings almost missed. Like any other day, I’m always tempted to miss the biggest blessings right in front of my eyes. A smile, a hug, a kiss, a breath.

When I took my eyes off of myself and placed them on God, my eyes were opened to the blessings in an ordinary day called Mother’s Day.

Steve apologized several times for what he felt was a “not-so-great” Mother’s Day. I couldn’t disagree with him more. It was the best Mother’s Day of my life. Simply because it was an ordinary day. The gift of one more day to do this thing called mothering.

And just like God, He waited until the end of the evening, after speaking into my heart, really getting into those deep places and moving me, to give me another Mother’s Day gift. A simple moment with my son.

Steve was upstairs reading to Andrew. Zachary was listening to Narnia I’m sure, Jacob was outside, and I cleaned the kitchen. The house was a complete wreck. The screen door opened, and Jacob peeked his head inside, “Hey, mom, can you come pitch to me.”

I glanced at the dishes in the dishwasher, the ones in the sink, the food needing to be wrapped, baseball clothes strewn all over the place. Grass clippings making trails through the kitchen.

“Sure.”

“Really?”

The mess isn’t going anywhere, but he is. He is growing up. I never know when the last time I’ll hear the words “Mom, will you pitch to me?” might come. So when the invitation arrives, I will accept.

I pitched, we laughed. I’m not good, and I’m scared of the ball. He’s ok with that. We sat on the driveway. An ordinary moment. The chatting began. He told story after story. I asked no questions. Just listened and laughed. No nagging, no prodding, no arguing. An absolute treasure of a gift.

He heard another brother approaching, and I saw the disappointment in his eyes as he realized our private time was coming to an end. No earth shattering conversations. Just ordinary.

The day was exactly the day the Lord had made.

Because the day was simple, I was able to receive the gift the Lord had for me in those simple moments that I will hold onto forever. Moments that might not have happened. An understanding that wouldn’t have come.

When I take my eyes off me, I see Him, and I see the gifts that parade in the dailies of my life.

My mother’s day was an ordinary day, which made it the best Mother’s Day possible.

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A Mother’s Day Giveaway

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It’s been a long time since we’ve had a giveaway.  In honor of Mother’s Day, I will be giving away a $25 gift card for Sweetland Soaps.  My sister’s company.  Yes, I’m biased.  But.  The stuff really is spectacular!  Totally handcrafted using goats milk from their own farm.  Check them out! (for giveaway details see the end of this post)

When we were little, Mother’s Day was always a day for us to make mom breakfast in bed.  364 days of the year she was up before the rest of us.  1 day of the year she magically stayed in bed, allowing us the perfect opportunity to surprise her.  Eggs scrambled a little too hard. Toast cold and a little on the burnt side.  Glass of orange juice sticky from little hands doing the pouring.  All arranged on a tray, maybe a little flower on the side, handmade cards telling her she was the best mom in the world.

To a child a mom is their world.  She is the one.  The only.  The everything.  The one who listens.  The one who wipes.  The one who fixes.  The one who calls.  The one who laughs.  The one who plays.  The one who is always there.

She is the one who walks into the room when they are sound asleep.  And prays and pleads with God on their behalf.  She is the one who behind the scenes is praising God for every aspect of their lives and boldly asking for more.  More of His goodness sewn into their hearts.  And yes, she even asks God to use them as mighty warriors for His kingdom, knowing full well what this may bring.

She is the one who stays up later than the rest.  Making that costume into the wee hours.  Washing that special shirt that must be worn the following day.  Cleaning up the messes that are evidence of life lived fully.  Making that home one that is warm and inviting, fresh for the next morning’s awakening.  Putting her special touch on life.  Little lunch notes, a special light she leaves on, a special candle she burns, a special place she sits.  She is the one up before the rest.  Meeting with God so she can be the mom they need.  Preparing lunches.  Preparing lesson plans.  Preparing their hearts.  Paving the way for a blessed day.

She is the administrator.  The scheduler.  The balancer of it all.  Whether she works or stays home or does a little of both doesn’t matter.  Because her heart is with her little ones and she does it all for them.

She is the one who pours out her heart so completely into those little ones for so many years that she can hardly envision a life that looks any different.  And she is the one whose heart will be ripped open wide when she realizes she is no longer their everything.

Lord willing, the Lord will be their everything.  They will look to Him to be their healer, their fixer, the lover of their soul.  They will have been loved so well by that mama that they won’t need her to be their everything.

Her role will change but the memories will remain.   Her legacy will live.  The pouring out of love.  It hurts.  The pouring out of self.  It’s hard.  But that is exactly how God needs it to be.  When that mama’s heart breaks, He will heal it.  When that mama is lonely, He will comfort.  When that mama needs someone to nurture, He will bring her the hurting and the needy.  When she needs to put her special touch on life, He will bring Her the ones who need a special touch in their lives.

To the mamas whose babies are grown, you will always be a mama.  Even when you don’t need to mama to your babies, God needs you to mama to His people.  Keep pouring out for Him.  And be thankful for how He has used your life to impact your children.

To the mamas in the trenches, this season….well, that is all it is.  It’s a season.  It will pass.  So grasp every single second.  Sniff their sweet cheeks every chance you get.  Hold them when they are too big to hold.  Pray your heart out for everything you can imagine.

And to the ones who desperately want to be a mama, and you wait.  And your heart physically aches as you long to use the mama in your heart.  That mama heart that God gave you.  As you cry out to God asking for this blessing.  Use that heart right now.  Right where you are.  Use that mama heart to love and nurture the ones God is putting in your path for this season.  A mom is more than a position in the family.  It’s a heart.  A heart that loves.  And there may just be someone who needs some of the heart that only you can give.

Happy Mother’s Day a little bit early.

*********Mother’s Day Giveaway**************

To enter: (one or all of the below.  Each earns 1 chance to win)

  1. Like Barefoot Walks on Facebook
  2. Leave a comment-Anything you want to share about Mother’s Day, your mom, your kids, favorite memory.  You get the picture.
  3. Share any post on Facebook, Twitter, or Pinterest.  Please be sure to comment with what you shared and where.

Entries must be in by Monday, May 6th 11:59 pm.  Winner announced here on Tuesday, May 7th.