Dreams and Lessons

I did something this Spring I had always thought and sometimes said was not necessary. I took my middle child (and also the youngest by way of sibling care) to an early childhood education class. For one hour every Thursday morning my almost 4 year old and I played together, painted, did learning activities, and then sat in a circle and sang songs with other Mom’s and toddlers/pre-preschoolers. And then for another hour Miss E would be under teacher supervision as she snacked, played and learned, while I joined all the other parents in a semi circle under the conversation direction of a parent ed coordinator. No big deal right? Hundreds if not thousands of other parents do this nationwide weekly. But for me, it took humbling and learning to get me in the door. I consider myself a pretty common sense and smart person. Parenting was challenging, but doable. Lots of prayer, tears, a little yelling unfortunately, but overall, I was handling it. And then I had kids. ;) Kidding, but really, so often we’re experts until we actually have to do the activity. So we had 1 kid, who was smart, and a self learner, and we had play groups and friends. I didn’t see a need for ECFE. At all. Then we had two kiddos, I was still good. Then baby number 3, I was doing okay. But the older they have gotten, the more humble I hope I’ve become. And this winter, even with Levi off at Kindergarten, I found myself willing to admit I needed focused time with Miss Emelia. No brother’s competing for attention or demanding it, and Momma fully willing to get down and play. Playing is hard for me, I do better with words or games or activities. Playing dress up or store or camping? Stretching experience. 

All this to explain, I was shocked to realize how much I looked forward to the Parent Ed hour each week. I made a few new friends, and I learned a lot. I no longer have all the answers, and I’ve come to admit each family needs to do things their own way. There’s common sense yes, and new tactics and plans to try, but no family will ever look exactly the same. 

So yesterday, at our last class for the Spring, with a break for Summer, and no guarantee we’d all be in the same class again next Fall, I found myself a little teary. I was so gently reminded how God weaves all of our stories together, and I’d come to love getting to know these other Mommas. I felt like I needed more time, needed to ask more questions, learn more babies names and family stories. In the midst of our discussion yesterday, we were talking about surviving and thriving in Summer, parks to take the kids to, activities in the community to attend, etc. And then we tangeted into talking about mountain biking and camping and places farther away to visit. And I realized, I knew a lot about fun things to do like this. Even our coordinator said “you’re not from here originally, how do you know all these places?” And I was again humbled, because in and of my introverted self I wouldn’t. But I have a husband who loves to go, to do, to explore, to hike, to bike, to camp, to spend time together. He’s always reading the paper and community events and mentioning things to me. 

I married a man who loves by spending time, and that may not be my primary need filler, at least, I like to think it’s not. But when I stop to reflect, all my love languages (words, touch, etc.) take time to fill. So when I look at this man who loves to spend time with me, doing things, going to new places, I see so much love. I could sit in ECFE and sound like a local, because I’ve experienced so many things in the almost 10 years we’ve been doing this marriage together. We’ve had our share of issues, needs, hurts, and screw-ups, but I’m married to a man who comes home every evening and wants to be with his family. That’s a huge huge gift. And in the midst of this writing he ordered my coffee wrong and I wanted to get crabby, but how do you get crabby when you’re writing about how he wants to spend time with you? Dilemmas. 

We just returned from our first big family trip, to Texas and back via our rusty red van, 3100 miles and 12.5 days later. I’ll write more of this in a later post, but I can honestly say I cried leaving our friends’ home in San Antonio on our way home. Because taking this big family trip was dream of mine. Not this one in particular, but any family trip. I haven’t seen as much of our country as I’d like in my 30 years, and I definitely have a sense of adventure. But also a distaste for flying. I’ll do it, just not my ideal thing. So roadtripping across part of our country actually sounded like fun. The kids did great, and I read books! I drove some too, but mostly I looked out the window or read. And my soul was filled by dreams come true, reading theology filled books about God’s grace in everyday life and pursuing God’s calling on my life, time to just think in relative quiet, and time with dear friends and my family. So maybe it wasn’t the Texas and Ocean I didn’t want to leave, but the taste of dreaming and fulfillment. 

All this muddles together into my acknowledging that I still have some big dreams and experiences to have. They might look different from when I was 15, 20, even 25, but at 30 years old I’m learning more and more about who I am, who God created me to be, the talents and gifts He built into me, and what it might look like to just run my race for His glory, dreaming all the while. And about who I’m not, and what I need in my life, like ECFE. 

And this blog, it’s some mileage in that race. Obedience and dream filling all in one. Because I’m learning when my soul is filled by the God who designed it, it naturally overflows into others. And we need each other. No matter what lies we believe, we NEED each other. We need real and broken. I’ve had the words to a song running through my heart this month, and how true they are: 

“Truth is harder than a life, The dark seems safer than the light, And everyone has a heart that loves to hide. 

I’m a mess and so are you, We’ve built walls nobody can get through, 

Yeah, it may be hard, but the best thing we could ever do, ever do, 

Bring your brokenness, and I’ll bring mine 

‘Cause love can heal what hurt divides

And mercy’s waiting on the other side

If we’re honest 

If we’re honest…” 

I always thought I knew myself, now I’m realizing how much of a stuffer I am, how I’ve hidden even from myself. My humbling is in admitting I’m a mess, even to myself, to say I need the Mommas at ECFE, I need my husband, I need true honest friends, I need my family, I need Jesus. I want to quit hiding behind myself, quit denying gifts God has given me because they don’t look like I want. I want to run, freely run my race. It will be messy, it will be broken, but I pray it will be healing. For me, and for you. So will you join me? If we’re honest…