Beauty on the Backroads

Stories of grace for life's unexpected turns

children

God ruined my life

It’s been no secret that lately I’ve been struggling with being a mom to my kids … feeling overwhelmed, underqualified, impatient, tired and exasperated. Then I had a wake-up call and my attitude has changed. The past week has been one of the best weeks with my kids (minus the tantrums my 2-year-old threw over the weekend at bedtime). This change of heart and mind was confirmed by the sermon I heard on Sunday.

I will admit that I cannot remember much about what our pastor said, but one phrase stuck out. I can’t remember the context, either. (Sorry, Pastor Dave. Saturday night was a rough one with Izzy.) But I recall hearing something about God invading our lives, and something in my mind clicked with that concept.

I remember exactly how God took over my life, when I let Him, but He began invading it long before then. He was wooing me from a young age, through my uncle, my grandparents and friends. I just didn’t get it until I was 19. Actually, I’m not sure I totally “get it” now, but I know one thing: I’m not the same as I was then.

God ruined my life. At least, the life I was living. I was depressed, insecure, desperate for love, on the verge of jumping into a sexually loose lifestyle and ignorant of who I was or  what I wanted out of life.

God changed all of that. He gave me joy, security, unfailing love, purity, acceptance, purpose and hope. He ruined the path I was on, and I am forever grateful.

In a similar way, my children have ruined my life. They, too, invaded my life and took over. In a whole new way, my life is not my own. They’ve ruined me for selfishness, laziness, monotony, greed, and independence. Without them in my life, I could do what I wanted, when I wanted, anytime I wanted. I could spend all the money I had on myself and be my own person. Those things are attractive, sometimes, and please don’t think I’m in any way condemning or judging you if you don’t have children. I just know myself and how I would be as a person if God hadn’t given me children.

Sometimes I’m frustrated that my schedule revolves around theirs, that I have to share whatever I’m eating or drinking with my daughter if I’m consuming it while she’s awake, that I can’t even go to the bathroom without her opening the door or calling out, “Mommy, where are you?” And, at times, I’m a little jealous that I have to buy the kids new clothes every few months while my tired wardrobe decays further in my closet. (Except for the new pieces I got for my birthday; thanks Mom and Grandma!)

I may not have known what I was in for when my husband and I decided to have children (at least the first one!) but I knew sacrifice would be involved. The same is true of my faith. In both cases, I can’t stay the same person I was or even do a lot of the things I used to do. Most of the time, that’s a good thing.

I like this song “Miracle” by Audio Adrenaline. The chorus says:

“You took my dreams
And stole my schemes
And turned my life upside down
You took my heart
Stole every part
And made it a miracle”

I wouldn’t trade this miraculous life for what it was before, but when I entertain the thought of going back, I have to remember that this was no hostile takeover of my life. With God and with my kids, I surrendered the ground I was holding and welcomed the invasion.

A week’s worth of thoughts

I’ve had a lot running through my mind this week and little time to write out my thoughts. So, lucky you, if you’re reading this, you get to take a peek at a week in the life of my brain. Try not to be afraid.

— I haven’t had as much sleep this week as I would like. Early in the week, Isabelle decided to assert her 2-year-old independence and boldly declare, “No, I not go to sleep” at bed time. This, followed by an hour or more of screaming, “I want my mommy” and throwing herself around her room, passing out in various areas of her room. One night, she fell asleep in the middle of the floor. Tonight confirmed one of my fears about this … she passed out in front of the door to her room, so I woke her up (by nudging the door into her head) when I went in to put Corban to sleep. The experts, doctors, I guess, say one reason for this sort of behavior is because they don’t want to miss out on what’s going on. Isabelle played that card tonight, conning me into letting her take a book and a Bible to bed with her, then desperately asking for anything she could think of to delay bedtime. As her mother, I disapprove of her antics, knowing that sleep is what’s best for her. But if I’m honest with myself, I’m guilty of the same. God repeatedly tells me to rest, and I repeatedly tell him, “But, the dishes aren’t done.” Or, “I need this time on Facebook to relax after a long day.” Or, “I deserve to stay up late and have ‘me’ time after being with the kids all day.” Rest, He says. And I know He knows what is best.

— Isabelle broke a glass in the kitchen this week. She didn’t do it on purpose. I think she was reaching for a dirty dish that she wanted to wash when it crashed to the floor. I rushed her out of the room while I picked up and swept the pieces I could see. I knew I needed to do a better job than that, but I just didn’t feel like it then. I was alone in the house with the kids and I didn’t want to have to play keep away from the kitchen with Isabelle while I tried to sweep and mop the whole floor. I paid for that decision all week. Four times, I stepped on a small piece of glass and had to dig it out with tweezers, wash the wound and affix a band-aid to the bottom of my foot. A few extra minutes when the breakage occurred could have saved me later, as could have a decision to wear shoes in the kitchen until I did. Reminds me of two things: that every decision has a consequence, good or bad and small wounds can cause big hurt.

— I’m having an increasing desire to “do life together” with people, and I’m not confident of being able to fulfill that desire where we’re at. Or maybe I just need to take more initiative. I said earlier this week that I was missing a sense of belonging. I know as a Christian I don’t belong here on earth, but I have to live here till I’m called home, and while I’m here, I want to know I’m part of something. I feel that on Sundays, most of the time. But the rest of the week, not so much. I’m not sure what the answer is, but I was grateful today to be able to hang out with a friend and her daughters. It was unplanned and unscheduled, but it was fun to connect, even though we were just “being.”

— My husband and I accepted a challenge this week, thanks to One Extraordinary Marriage, http://www.oneextraordinarymarriage.com. It’s totally out of my comfort zone, but I’m learning that I’ll do anything to strengthen my marriage. We’ve only been married three years, and while I know there is a cord holding us together (Ecclesiastes 4:12), sometimes that cord feels more like a kite string than a rope. I’m excited to see what’s changed after a week.

— I’ve been struggling with disappointment over things I thought should have happened but haven’t. I believe that God is in control and will not fail us, but acting on that belief isn’t always easy. I need to tear up my agenda for our lives and submit to His leading. Ugh. I can hardly even type that without throwing an internal tantrum.

I could probably go on, but my Swiss cheese mommy brain needs a break and can only think, “Oh, the laundry’s done,” and “It’s time for a snack!” And maybe I’ll listen to my Father for once and turn in early for some much-needed rest.