So. :)
It was time for a blog change. The old baby hadn't gotten much attention since the REAL baby #3 entered our lives. If any attention at all. Somehow the whole "having a 3rd baby, buying a house, trying to just shower daily" stuff became pretty important. Now it's a year+ and I've learned to just go shower and let the children mutiny, that any "new" house is going to have regrets, and that the 3rd baby is my honey bunny who shall forever be covered in smooshy kisses.
And God, well, He's moving in my heart and life and challenging me with REAL life. Hence the blog change and title. I've been craving, aching to write for months now, and putting it off. Feeling pressure for this first blog post to just be amazing, to draw readers in, to show God's grace in huge ways. Which is very self-defeatist of the whole "Be REAL" thing. Duh Beth.
So here I am, aching, craving, striving to just be real. Why? Because I'm done with facades and social media "show your best stuff". Granted, I still post cute pictures and videos of my kids and sweaty gross running photos of my miles, but I also want to post pictures like this:
Where the rings of microwaved coffee on my cup indicate how long it took to drink on a crazy day where the laundry is still waiting to be folded because, well, laundry never ends with 5 people in a home. Sometimes I feel as though even in our picture perfect social media society we compete to be "more real". Like not only do you get a prize for and a "like" for your cute perfect kids photos, but you get the most comments and likes for the "I'm losing it and a horrible Mom" statuses too. That's not what this blog is about. It's about mistakes, triumphs, truth, GRACE.
My 3rd "baby" Joel is almost 14 months old. This kid has got his own timetable for everything. When I went into labor with him, it was on his terms, which also included passing out and an ambulance ride. He was ready and he wasn't fooling around. But he's also the most relaxed and unrushed kid. Maybe it's being the 3rd, he has to be patient. But he didn't roll over very quickly, he was in no rush to eat "big food", he didn't crawl until almost 10 months, and he's still not walking. He crawls and lightening speed and pulls up and says "So big!" with his arms, but you try to get him to take a step unassisted and he immediately sits down and looks at you like "*Psh* yeah right".
So he's discovered the garbage containers in the kitchen. He's fascinated by the lids and it took him 2.3 seconds to master them. If you come into my kitchen on any certain days where I've just given up the fight, you'll find the garbage can on the counter out of reach. Yes, he has to learn, but yes, I have to eat and breath and clean sometimes. All this to say, Joel has yet to figure out the garbage is "yucky", and what is and is not appropriate to throw away. I wear a pair of purple crocs shoes around the house sometimes, especially post run to help my calves out a bit. The other day I could only find one so I put it on and went in search of the other. Couldn't find it until I went to throw something away.
There it was, my missing shoe, and some of the recycling transferred to the garbage. The kid will throw away anything, his toys, the fridge magnets, my shoes. Joel has not matured in his understanding to know that we consider trash to be reprehensible. That it's not to be touched or messed with unless necessary. That things, his things, my things, have value. That if he puts them in the trash they could be gone forever. Now, he has a Momma and Daddy who love him and are trying to teach him these concepts, as well as to just obey when we say "No", but he's also a sinner, born in his own stubbornness and repeatedly goes back to the garbage and throws away things of value.
And there's the comparison. How often do I throw things of value away? Not literally in the trash, but emotionally, spiritually, mentally? I see a Facebook friend's photo that makes me feel "less than", so I ignore it or scroll by as soon as possible. I get hurt by a friend's words so I stop calling them or pursuing their friendship. I squander my time in trivial things like my phone or a good book or even cleaning, instead of actually looking my children in the eye and listening. I take the cross of Christ, the season of Lent and Easter than we are in for granted. I have a husband and family and friends who dearly love me, but I feel undeserving and disbelieving so I refuse to let it bury it's roots in my soul and heart. I read my Bible of God who LOVES me so much He died for me, and yet I live in legalism and try to make myself "good enough" to receive that gift. I ignore the LOVE and see the duty. I see the failings of my own blackened sinful heart and don't receive the beauty of others who see it and love me anyway. I live in "Mommy guilt" and miss the joys. I hear the 40 minutes of constant back and forth between my children so I throw away the 5 minutes of giggles because they aren't worth it. I'm praying, desperate to stop throwing the things of value away.
That means Realness. Life. Me. Lived out before you in desperation that I can for once in my life put away my fear of rejection and fear of being vulnerable long enough to be loved, to love, to give grace. To be the friend who won't set the rules, but give the grace. Real. Because without Grace and Truth, I'm nothing.
My heart's song the past few months has been a woeful melody by Tenth Avenue North, "Worn". I wake tired, short nights, wakeful children, worn out mattress, days that feel purposeless and long. Selfishness, self-pity. Wondering what my purpose is. Knowing what it should be, but my heart doesn't hear it. Wondering when it will feel "good" to be a Momma. Hearing the lies of the enemy, how I'm lacking, failing. How my lack of a bachelor's degree leaves me stuck. How I'm not really succeeding at anything. But there is Truth, and Grace. Redemption will win. The days when my prayers feel thin, when I whisper them desperately before I even open my eyes, when I beg God to just let me pour a little bit of love into these little people who need me and Jesus, those are the days, when my purpose is beyond me. When the Grace wins. When Real is what is true.
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