Acknowledging Difference

So I take my boys to the library near our house like once a week, and there's a playground nearby, so quite often we find ourselves at the playground. And quite often, we run into people who are intoxicated or on drugs or selling them. True story, I witnessed a drug deal at this play area, a true pass over of drugs and cash all while one of the guys watched his two little girls play with my boys.

But I digress, kind of.

The truth is, I know this stuff goes on there. I know the chances are good that we may strike up a conversation with someone who is intoxicated, and yet, we continue to show up.

Is this a good thing? or a bad thing?

The reality is, I struggle with whether I should be shielding my children from these sights, from this world that is so very different from their own, shooing them away from the things I'd rather they didn't see. And I know every single parent is going to have their own opinion on the matter.

But in all honesty, there has only been one time where I questioned my judgement and wondered if I'd made a bad call by allowing my children to engage with an intoxicated man after he become just a little aggressive. I remember thinking, maybe this was a bad idea? Maybe I should have pulled them away from him? Maybe I shouldn't bring them here at all?

But the truth is, I know that I can't shield my children forever, and ultimately that is what wins out. I want my kids to know difference, to be aware of it, to confront it and acknowledge it. I don't want them to shy away from it.

And it starts with us, their parents. 

As parents it is up to us to not let that fear of difference overtake us, if we steer clear of different or if we give into the fear of it how can we expect our kids to be any different?

It is up to us to cultivate the curiosity, to cultivate the eyes to see that every person has a story. May we stress the importance of listening and responding appropriately to that story, and to the systems that create and perpetuate that difference.

It's up to us to open their eyes to their privilege, to open their eyes to see that it's not about equality but rather equity.

It's up to us to teach our kids to not be blind or apathetic to the injustice that happens all around them, every single day.

It's up to us to teach them how to use their voice, how to use their privilege to advocate and speak on behalf of those who cannot speak for themselves or whose voices may not be as loud as ours.

It's up to us teach them about Jesus and the values He lived into during his time on earth and to encourage them to live into them.

It's up to us. No pressure right? In all honesty, it makes me excited to raise up little people who have eyes to truly SEE those they share space with in this world. 

Ultimately, my desire for all of those in my family are that our thoughts and our words are pleasing to the Lord

Psalm 19:14 - May these words of my mouth and this meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, LORD, my Rock and my Redeemer.

And all of this reminds me of one of my favorite books from last year or the year before, Wonder by RJ Palacio. 

Pruning Branches

I'm all for growth and putting myself in situations where I'll be refined. I love the idea of transformation and refinement in the hopes that I'll become a better version of myself, a version that more glorifies and honors the Lord. I'm all for chipping away and pruning the bits that don't honor and glorify Him, but let me tell you I had NO idea just how many bits needed cutting and pruning until I had kids.

See, I thought being married was the ultimate act of refinement. We fully believe that God has called us to speak truth to each other, to sharpen each other, to say the things we may not want to hear. And for that I'm thankful. I'm thankful that we believe God has called us to make each other holy, rather than happy, and for us that holiness leads to happiness.

And because of that accountability and that refinement and that desire to glorify God with our lives and with the way we treat each other, our love and appreciation for each other has deepened.

And when I do something to dishonor my husband, when I raise my voice at him, or when I'm short with him, or when I nag him about something, or when I'm just downright mean, he can call me out on that. And let me tell you, he sure doesn't shy away from doing that! Sometimes I wish he would haha!

But it wasn't an easy road for us to get to that place. See, raising my voice aka yelling is my M.O. Or it use to be? At least I'd like to think I've conquered that part of myself in my marriage (obviously still working on that in other areas of my life as you'll soon read), but I suppose I should probably ask my husband for the truth. I still have my moments where the conversation escalates, but they don't happen nearly as often as they did in our dating relationship, and sometimes it's not me that escalates it, and sometimes I even find myself saying to my husband...why are you yelling at me? This was definitely something I NEVER would have said 10 years ago but it was most definitely something he would have said to me.

And all I can say here is...Thank you Jesus for this growth and transformation that has happened in my spirit over the last 10 years. Thank you for pruning me and refining me in ways I never even thought possible. Thank you for opening my eyes to a new way of communicating in my marriage, a way that is respectful and honoring and glorifying not only to my husband, but also to You.

And that's my marriage.

And then we had kids.

And as I already shared, in the season prior to having kids, God had taken away the branches that were not bearing fruit and pruned the ones that were, so I figured he was done with me right? I figured I'd mastered the raising my voice thing, and I now find sick pleasure in keeping my cool in an argument. In my marriage.

The parenting side of me is a whole different story.

I don't understand why this area of refinement in my marriage hasn't seeped into every aspect of my life. Why is it okay for me to raise my voice at my littles but it's not okay for me to raise my voice at my husband? Is it because when I raise my voice at my husband, he calls me out on it? And when I raise my voice with my littles, or when I'm short with them, or when I'm just downright mean, they don't call me out on it. Sometimes I wish they would, as it would probably force me to get my act together quicker, but because they don't, I have to take the time to notice their body language and their emotional response to my tone and my attitude. And that's hard.

And some days I feel like I've spent the entire day refereeing and raising my voice. And although my kids most certainly aren't angels, I can choose how I respond to their actions. I can remain calm or I can raise my voice. And let's just say me yelling at them does not help the situation one bit, in fact it most likely makes it worse, especially when Jack just laughs in my face or heaven forbid yells back. And the remorse I feel after doing so is hard. And that remorse digs a little deeper into my soul when Jack says to his dada that mama wasn't being very nice. There's so much truth in that little boys words. I really wasn't being very nice.

And in those moments when I raise my voice, dishonoring my children and dishonoring God, I catch a glimpse of my former self, the one I've tried so hard NOT to be. And I don't like what I see. I don't want to be her anymore.

And in those moments when I choose to remain calm, I feel like such a warrior, having gone to battle with my old ways, my old self, and I catch a glimpse of my new self. And I like what I see. I want to be her. And in these moments I see the growth, I see the cutting of the branches and the pruning of others. 

Each day I pray for God to take away every branch in me that does not bear fruit and to prune the branches so that the ones that do bear fruit can be even more fruitful (John 15:2). 

I hope and pray that this cutting away and pruning will continue, and that somehow by the grace of God I will bear fruit. 
  
I hope and pray that God will be honored and glorified through me, through the words I speak to my littles and through the way those words are spoken to them. 

And I hope and pray that He will continue to open my eyes to a different way of communicating in my parenting, a way that is respectful and honoring and glorifying not only to my children, but also to Him.

I long to raise up little people that will honor and glorify God with their lives and with their words, and when I dishonor Him (and them) with the way I speak and with the way I treat my littles, what kind of example am I setting?
 

Moments like this.

We had a few rainy days last week, and most rainy days I will forget, but this rainy day will live on in my heart forever. We (Jack and I) had such a beautiful day...minus the fact that I had only slept like six hours the night before. I just couldn't put my book down, my fault, and then Jack woke up around 6:30, not fun, but such is life right?

On this rainy morning, my son asked me to dance with him for the first time. He grabbed my hand and said.."Mama, dance!" How could I possibly refuse this little person? So we turned the music on, busted out the instruments and gave it all we had. And dance we did, in fact I danced my heart out and he loved every moment of it. My dancing moves are nothing to imitate, but he was stomping right there with me. And he laughed, and laughed and laughed...and before I knew it we were both just laughing and the room was filled with so much joy. And my heart was so incredibly full as I watched him twirl around the room shaking his little maraca and pounding his feet to the rhythm. I wanted to stop time.

This moment was so beautiful and magical, and I felt so honored to be able to share it with him. I was so overwhelmed with thankfulness and I just couldn't bring myself to hold back the tears. I threw my arms up to the Lord and let the tears of joy stream down my face. I just closed my eyes, hoping that somehow I could bottle up this emotion and this gratitude and thankfulness to the Lord and this joy to bust out on another rainy day.

The thing is...being a mom is hard. It's tiring, exhausting, and you never feel as though you are good enough. You second guess yourself, each decision, each choice. I mean I've never done this before. I have no idea what I'm doing, but it's the moments like this that get me through the hard days. I love being a mom. I love these sweet, sweet moments that will forever be etched in my heart and in my mind.

I love the joy this sweet boy brings to my life. I mean I knew joy before him...my husband and I were happily married and laughter filled our home, but I wish you could see our home now. This little person fills us with so much joy and reminds us what it really means to be childlike. I thank you child for that childlike joy you bring to our lives...you wanted to dance, so we danced, you wanted to jump in puddles, so I put my rain boots on so we could do it together.

Thank you Jesus for these moments. Thank you Jesus for these 21 months with our son. Thank you Jesus for life, for health, for moments like this.

See, a friend of a friend suffered a tremendous loss recently. She gave birth to a beautiful baby boy a few weeks early, only to have to say goodbye to him 5 hours after his arrival. The grief, the pain I feel for her is simply indescribable. My body aches for her...for the loss of a dream, for the loss of her child...for the loss of moments like this. What a tremendous loss. And the sad thing is, I know she's not alone...there are so many others that have lost their children whatever the cause may be.

So this morning, when my 21 month old son grabbed my hand and said mama ...dance, I was overwhelmed with gratitude. Who am I to deserve these 21 months with this sweet, sweet boy? Who am I to deserve this joy? How blessed am I to have a little boy wake me up at 6:30 by shouting mama from his crib? How blessed am I to hold this little person's hand...to change his diaper...to feed him...to raise him...to have him call me mama.

I don't deserve any of this...and yet I'm living it. What an absolute privilege it is.

Thank you Jesus! May I continue to see each day as a gift...may Your Spirit lead me ...and may I continue to call upon Your name always, in the joyful times and in the darkest days. And may our love for each other and our love for You bring honor and glory to Your name.

And so I leave you with this. This is the song that set me over the edge when Jack and I were dancing. So when we sang this song at church today, I lost it all over again.

The Chorus.

Spirit lead me where my trust is without borders. 
Let me walk upon the waters. 
Wherever You would call me.
Take me deeper than my feet could ever wander. 
And my faith will be made stronger.
In the presence of my Savior. 

I will call upon Your name
Keep my eyes above the waves.
My soul will rest in Your embrace
I am Yours and You are mine. 

A Second Time.

All photos courtesy of Lightworks360.

There's something extra special about doing this (being pregnant) a second time.

Now I know what to expect and I embark on this pregnancy/parenting journey wholeheartedly.

I am not blind to the realities and the trials.

But I know the joy.



Oh do I know the joy.

I know the reality of sleepless nights.

I am all too familiar with the postpartum body.

I know nights and days in a hospital.

I know what pain and recovery from a c-section actually looks like.

I know the desire to feel needed and the reluctance and resentment that also comes with that need.

I know the laughter that comes from blow outs and spit ups.

I know the endless laundry.

I can now see how a baby can tear a marriage apart and separate two lives that were once one.

I have a new understanding for the word partnership and I can now see the true value and beauty in that sincere and genuine partnership.



I now know the many ways a baby not only transforms you, but refines you.

I know the silly things that can be said to your spouse in the middle of the night.

I know the silly fights that happen in the middle of the night and even during the day.

All in the name of utter exhaustion.

And yet we do it all over again because the joy and the love is simply indescribable.

You just can't even begin to put it into words.

And seeing the world through a little person's eyes is simply magical.



And I love that magic.





I know that we have absolutely no idea what exactly awaits us, thus we have no idea as to what we are really getting ourselves into.

I know that it is going to be hard, really hard.

I know that we have a toddler that is in the beginning stages of tantrums and testing boundaries and adding a newborn baby to that sounds...interesting.



But I also know that God has blessed me abundantly with a husband whom I love and cherish and admire and respect. And I feel so incredibly honored to be his partner with this whole parenting gig.

I know that our faith in God is so much stronger and our love for each other so much deeper.

And I know that as long as we continue to grasp onto Him with our hands clasped together. He will grant us the patience, the wisdom, the grace, and the humility to encounter all of our trials with bold and courageous spirits.

And for that I am eternally grateful.

Xoxo,

Malia

Transition to Motherhood.

This post has been sitting in my drafts since October of last year, figured it was high time I finished it up. Here goes...

The transition to motherhood has come easier to me than the transition to being a wife.  People say they don't want to have kids because they are too selfish, and my response to that is then why did you get married??  That transition was a bit more difficult for me than having a baby.

The reality is, I am a selfish being...and when I got married, my husband rocked my world, and continues to do so in so many delightful ways, but I was knocked off my pedestal that I had put myself on, and my eyes were opened to just how self seeking I truly was.  It's easy to ignore it or just sweep it under the rug like you sweep under the dirt in your life because you can.  You aren't confronted with these parts of yourself EVERY SINGLE DAY because you don't have to be.  When you live alone, there isn't anyone asking anything of you within the realm of your home.  There isn't anyone asking you to pick up after yourself, or to squeeze the toothpaste a certain way, or to fold their underwear a certain way, or to load the dishwasher a certain way (none of these apply to us actually). When you get married your selfishness is staring you in the face, and your expectations are staring you in the face, and your need for control is staring you in the face.

And I must say ...for me...the selfishness component hasn't even played a part in being a parent.  This is a role Peter and I have simply embraced because we must.  Jack needs us to survive, and there isn't anything selfish about that. It's simply a fact. Yes, I can get a little worked up when he wakes up at 3 in the morning hungry because I just want to sleep...and yes, I get a little worked up when I'm sick and I just want to lay in bed all day rather than take care of and love on my child.

But the reality is - it's easier for me to serve my child than it is for me to serve my husband. See, Peter doesn't NEED me to survive. He doesn't need me to feed him, change his diaper, bathe him wash his clothes. Quite frankly, he is fully capable of doing all of those things himself. And I'm so very thankful for that!!!  However, Jack's needs can seem more urgent than my husband's needs. As I said, Peter doesn't need me to survive.

Jack's a helpless little babe and Peter is an extremely capable adult. Thus, I'm much more quick to respond to Jack's cries for the boob or the bottle than I am to Peter's request for a glass of water.

But the reality is...I'm Peter's wife first, Jack's mom second. And it's so easy to lose sight of that isn't it? I mean as I said...Peter doesn't need me to survive.  However, what I've realized over this last year, is that marriage and parenting isn't about just surviving, it's about thriving. But how can you move from merely surviving to thriving? And what does thriving actually look like?

I truly can't count how many times I have praised God this past year for the partner He chose for me. And Peter may not need me to survive, but I believe God has brought us together so that we may thrive as we partner in parenting and life in general. God has given us the strength and the endurance to get through each day as we stand beside each other. And as we have adjusted to our new roles as mom and dad...we have slowly moved away from the survival mode. Things are becoming normal, and we have even begun to learn how we can thrive within these new roles. It's all about balance. It's all about a partnership. It's all about caring for the other person.

So tell me...how can you move from merely surviving to thriving? And what does thriving actually look like in your own life?

xoxo,

Malia

It's time to tell the Truth about Motherhood.

A friend posted a link to this article on her Facebook page awhile ago, and I read it of course. But little did I know my husband would be reading it too.  He came home that night wanting to talk about it over dinner.

And before I dive into our conversation, I want to encourage you to read the article in its entirety, but I will at least give you a little glimpse of some of my favorite words.

"The thing is, moms are tired.  They're also confused a lot of the time.  And they feel lost, like the days before GPS when we used to print out directions from Map Quest - like actually print them out on paper - and then just as you were glancing down at the paper the exit flew by you.  That kind of lost....

And moms, they wake up after having spent a night being woken up and they walk out into all that loudness and confused lost chaos.  They do it with eyes still squinting at the light, scrabbling for contact lenses or glasses and a cup of hot tea with plenty of sugar.  There were days they used to sleep in.  They can't remember those days anymore.  Their bodies are programmed to wake up at o'toddler dark thirty even when they're on vacation."

(Now isn't that the truth...I keep thinking, aren't we on vacation? (wrote this in Ireland) Shouldn't we be able to sleep as long as we want...the answer is no.  Gone are the days when I can wake up when I want to.)

And she continues...

"I want so badly for someone to tell her the truth about the exhaustion and how hard nursing can be and that everyone who looks so put together at church - there are none of us immune from the meltdowns and feelings of inadequacy.  I want so badly for someone to take her aside and ask how she's really doing.  For someone, anyone, to mentor her and admit their own hard days.  To be willing to go first.  To tell her how frustrated they were at the thought of even beginning the tedious process of trying to leave the house.  I want someone to ruthlessly admit to her that they don't have it all together.  That's where you come in."

And the truth is...I want to be that mom.  That mom that is honest and real.  That mom that admits how hard it truly is.  That mom that admits that sometimes she doesn't want to be pawed at, that sometimes she doesn't want to be needed by this little being, that sometimes she just wants to wake up when she wants to wake up.

I want to be a mom that encourages other moms, that invites real conversations and real support and encouragement.

And this is what I told the husband that night.

But first he asked the question..."Would you say that the transition to motherhood has been really hard on you?"

And this was my response..."You read that article on Natalie's wall didn't you?"

His reply, "Yeah, and while reading it I just kept thinking...Malia isn't struggling with any of this."

And I said, "Well, this is our reality now, no point getting down on myself...but yeah it's hard.  The sheer exhaustion, trying to balance it all, feeling as though I'm not satisfying anyone or doing anything well - that's hard."

The husband, "No one talks about the dads...how hard it is on the dads.  They are looking after the mom and the baby.  And that's hard."

I love that man and his response got me thinking.  He's right - no one talks about the dads, the conversations are always centered around the moms.  It's time to tell the truth about fatherhood, how hard it is on them.  Then again, maybe Peter's situation is unique. I ask alot of that man.  He isn't exempt from anything, well maybe the night time wakings (yes, Jack still wakes up at night) considering he doesn't have the tools to soothe him.

Anyhow, just something to consider, and maybe if Peter's willing, I'll ask him to share a little more on the blog.

So much love,

Malia