A friend of mine posted this sweet image with these encouraging words a few days ago, and on that day- a very rough-mom day- I struggled to believe it was true.
I had been far from the "best mom in the whole universe" and my daughter is beyond the age when she quickly forgets when mommy is mean or yells too much. She remembers. She hurts. She looks at me with those huge blue eyes full of sadness, disappointment, and dare I admit it, even a little fear.
It was one hour out of our day; one hour in which I couldn't handle the complaining, the questions, the attitude, and least of all myself.
I yelled.
I apologized.
We had a heart to heart.
I asked for forgiveness.
And then just minutes later, I yelled again.
I literally didn't know where to go from there. How could I have lost control of myself AGAIN? What was my daughter going to think of me? I wanted to escape. I wanted to give up. I wanted to quit. I needed to stop being a mom in that moment. And it's not because my children were being so awful. It's because I was being so awful. Clearly, I could not handle mommy-duties that day. Clearly, I was not capable of listening, and teaching, and disciplining effectively.
But there was nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nowhere to escape. These three sweet baby-faces were stuck with me as their mom that day, with no help in sight.
So I apologized again.
We had a heart to heart again.
I asked for forgiveness again.
And we went on a walk.
We moved on. I pressed forward. We tried again. I forgave myself. Because as moms, that's our only choice. There usually isn't a fire exit or an emergency escape route. There are no sick-days. And definitely no paid time-off.
That's the thing with motherhood. It isn't something you do in your spare time. It isn't a hobby. It's day in and day out, 24/7. It's when you feel like it and when you don't. It's when you feel like supermom and when you are barely holding it together.
The truth is, I am far from able on my own. But I am better with God. I am sure I am not fit for the job, but God thinks differently. Honestly, on that Tuesday afternoon, the only thing that kept me going (besides the fact that it wasn't nap-time yet), was the forgiveness and grace of God. The promise of a fresh start, not just the next day, but the very next minute, a fresh start was waiting for me. It was mine to take and rest in. So I did.
Unfortunately, that won't be the last time I fail and it probably won't be the worst case of failure when it comes to my motherhood either. But I think learning how to come back from those moments of failure is what's important. How are we going to respond? How are we going to treat our children, our spouse, ourselves the rest of the day? Will we give in to the ugliness of our hearts or rest in the love and grace of Jesus?
He is on my side. He believes in me. He thinks I CAN do this. He will equip me. He will forgive me. And He loves me. Those truths are where my hope rests.
It's no secret that I put myself out there on social media. I am pretty open and vulnerable whether we are acquaintances, lifelong friends, or you've just come across a post on Facebook. Honestly, I consider it a gift and a strength that God has given me. I never thought I would share so much of myself on social media. I realize it's not for everyone.
Yes, I started posting more for my Beachbody business, but now I feel like it's part of my ministry. Yep, that's right...I said that posting on Facebook is my MINISTRY. Scary, huh? What has the world come to? Am I out of my mind? Who do I think I am? Do I really think God can use me through FACEBOOK?!
Yes.I.do.
Someone recently asked my husband if it bothered him the way I put myself (and him and our marriage) out there. His response? "Absolutely not. I know where I stand in my marriage and with my wife. I am confident enough in our relationship that what she posts comes as no surprise to me."
Do you know what I love about Matt's response? He too knows marriage is hard. It's no secret. What I post on social media is not surprising to him. He knows our struggles because we talk about them...a LOT. He knows our pressure points because we experience them together. Anything I vaguely hint at on Facebook has already been talked out, communicated through, and worked out between Matt and I. If I am vulnerable on Facebook, how much MORE vulnerable do you think I am with my husband?
Don't get me wrong, I don't air our dirty laundry (nor do I intend to) and I rarely get in to specifics, but I have made no secret about the fact that marriage is hard. Our marriage is hard. Isn't all marriage hard?
I would love to hide behind pictures of romantic date nights and adorable family photos, but that's not the whole truth, is it? Again, I don't expect everyone to do what I do, but I feel called to make sure people understand that our marriage is not picture perfect.
And that's what I love about my marriage. I love that it's not perfect and more importantly, that Matt and I both realize it. I love that if we were to list the specific struggles we have in our marriage, our lists would look very similar. Our problems are not a mystery to us. When we are getting off course, losing track of each other, bickering, we take the time to find the root. We search each other's hearts and ask "What's really going on here?"
Are those conversations fun? No. Are they always done in a calm, patient, loving manner? No. Do we always find the answers right away? No. Does that mean that specific problem is solved forever? No. But the result of those many conversations throughout the weeks, months, and years is that we always get back on track, on course before it's too late.
So when I post a vulnerable post about the sensitive topic of my marriage, don't doubt for one second that Matt doesn't know EXACTLY what I'm talking about. He knows. We've already been there. We've already done that.
So why post about that stuff at all? I have to. Like I said, I actually do feel called to. I think talking about the difficult parts of marriage might make you feel normal. I think it might inspire someone else. Maybe it will challenge you. I need you to know that we don't have it all together, but we are TRYING. With God's help, infinite grace, and perfect example of sacrificial love, Matt and I will continue to strive toward a selfless, beautiful marriage...the kind of marriage Christ desires for us...the kind of marriage that our children will want to exemplify in their own relationships.
So that's us...far from perfect, but always communicating, always working, never giving up.
On day one of my "Eat Pray Hustle" study by Havilah Cunnington, the question was...
"Do you believe God could use you to reach your world?"
One week ago, I journaled my response...
"I do believe God can use me to reach my world, but I don't think about it enough. I don't consider it often. Most days, it's hard to survive what's right in front of me, let alone think about my impact on the world."
Can anyone else relate to that? The reality of it makes me laugh. I am currently sitting at my kitchen table in yesterday's makeup, sending messages, blogging, all while a huge glob of oatmeal has been on my floor for the past three hours, thanks to this morning's breakfast.
Impact the world? Me? Can anyone else relate? : )
I can't even prioritize cleaning up oatmeal, let alone fit in to my schedule, "change the world today".
BUT as I reviewed the study from this past week, I am realizing that impacting our world has much less to do with some grand plan, than some heroic action, than some life-changing decision.
Impacting our world happens in the little moments. It happens while I'm cleaning up oatmeal, checking in on a friend, cuddling a fussy toddler, making breakfast for my husband (because that doesn't happen very often anymore), or retrieving yet again just "ONE MORE" cup of water before my 4 year old will finally go to sleep.
Just yesterday at church, Pastor Matt Roden said something exactly in line with what I've been learning all week. "Resting in God is not one more thing TO DO, but it's the WAY YOU DO everything you have to do." I believe that's how we best impact the world. We sit at the feet of Jesus WHILE doing everything we have to. We live life slowly, eager to listen to the voice of God, even in the midst of errands and cooking and breaking up toddler fist-fights (does that only happen at my house?).
Doesn't it sound easy? ;) It's not. I'm quite sure of that. As a matter of fact, I think it's a discipline. It takes practice to consistently live in the presence of the Holy Spirit. It takes commitment and sacrifice to choose rest and stillness over the distractions of life.
We can all impact the world, one step at a time, one kind word at a time, one small decision to the next.
I know it's impossible to record every sweet moment and commit to memory every silly face, but I am compelled to try harder. I need to write down what I can, share their stories, and one day re-live the beautiful minutes of these exhausting, frustrating, and very long days with three little ones.
Sienna...
My stunning, sparkling, spunky little lady...enough words are hard to come by when it comes to describing her.
She is nurturing. As if she doesn't have her hands and heart full enough with her two younger brothers, she constantly has "babies" (stuffed animals and dolls) she is tending to. She also never ceases to love on the real-life babies of my friends.
She is an amazing big sister. I keep thinking she will start preferring one twin over the other, or developing a stronger bonder with either Price or Maddox, but truly, she adores them both. She gives affection, love, and plenty of bossy instructions equally. I can tell she will always be their biggest fan (besides Matt and I, of course), and they in turn worship the ground she walks on.
She is bossy. Yeah, I said it. I believe wholeheartedly, this "bossiness" is a strong indication of leadership and influence, but sometimes, she is just plain bossy. Of course she bosses her brothers around, but she definitely tries to have her way with Matt and I also. For example, when I play with her (usually I am helping her watch her babies), I can never seem to do or say the right thing. One time I wasn't allowed to speak or hold the baby for the duration of the time we were "playing" together. And she wonders why "playing babies" is not my favorite activity.
She is observant and sensitive and helpful. It's like she KNOWS when I've been pushed too far for the day, and she decides to be as sweet and helpful as possible. There was this one instance a few week ago that I haven't been able to stop thinking about. I was holding an inconsolable Maddox, who knocked a bowl full of nuts out of my hand and all over our laps. Sienna swooped in, and said, "Mom, I'll clean this up." Naturally, I still started picking up an assortment of cashews and almonds, but she stopped me and said, "Mommy, you don't have to help. I will do it." I remember feeling overwhelmed by her kindness, sensitivity, and awareness.
She is smart. Honestly, she's not one of those four year olds who is already reading and doing multiplication tables, but she is smart in other ways. She remembers everything. She is very aware of others' feelings. She creates and finds solutions to problems. This sounds so pompous or even silly, but I feel like she has already gained a sense of wisdom in her four short years.
She is capable. She can dress herself, clean her room, make her bed, and brush her teeth. Now obviously, she doesn't always attend to these responsibilities willingly or happily, but she can and does do them. I can rely on her to play and entertain her brothers. Honestly, if for some awful reason, she was left to care for the boys alone for a few hours, I feel certain she would be absolutely fine.
Sienna loves to talk and sing. She loves to have your undivided attention for as long as you'll allow it. She loves her brothers. She is affectionate, verbally and physically. She loves going to church. She loves animals...dogs, frogs, squirrels, cats, fish, tigers, penguins, lizards, you name it. She loves watching TV and movies. She loves her grandparents (Papa, Nonna, Papa, and Granny) and her Aunt Nina and Uncle Brent. She loves sweets and snacks. She loves playing with friends and meeting new people. She loves gum.
Sienna is a delight. I think I have been using this word to describe my first born ever since she came in to the world, but it remains true. Her mix of sweetness and humor and spice never cease to make for an entertaining day.
You know it's been a long time since you have blogged when it takes you three times to find the correct URL. Oops.
August 31st was my last post. Over five whole months have gone by. In some ways I can't believe it's been that long, and then when I saw the actual date...it all made sense.
You see, the second week in September I found out I was pregnant with my 4th baby, and life's been a whirlwind ever since then. My plate suddenly filled up, my priorities shifted, and where I spent my time was now of the utmost importance. Blogging clearly didn't make the must-do list the last few months : )
But now I am ready (I think).
The thing is, I have a love/hate relationship with blogging. I am filled with ideas, thoughts I want to express, dreams I want to share, and struggles I want to relate. It's IN me. I enjoy expressing myself in writing, I don't mind getting vulnerable and raw. But somehow sitting down and actually doing the writing is what holds me up.
A motto I've recently adopted says, "Done is better than perfect." I am quite sure this needs to directly relate to my blogging habit (or lack thereof). In the past, the pursuit of the perfect words or topics or grammar or eye-catching images have paralyzed me. They have turned writing, this thing I love, in to a burden.
So I've decided to start again. I'm ready to commit to sharing my life (whether you want to hear it or not). But I will not set lofty expectations, I will not let this be a burden...not this time.
There are two pictures hanging in my house. One hangs in my room, my then one-year old daughter, Sienna, expressing pure delight and joy. The other hangs in my living room and it is a photograph taken of "The Steps" in the piazza of Cortona, Italy.
The second photograph is special for a few reasons. One, it was a wedding gift. Two, the photographer and gift-giver is Al Hurley. My history with the Hurley family began the day I was born, they played a huge role in my life, and they are forever friends.
The third reason is the location. The steps of Cortona, Italy, are where I fell in love.
When I was fifteen years old, my beloved Uncle Albert and Aunt Susan invited me to go to Italy with their family for three weeks. Their excuse for inviting me? So I could help watch the kids, of course. The real reason? They wanted to give me the gift of an unforgettable experience.
In July of 1999, Uncle Albert, Aunt Susan, 77 year-old Great-Uncle Henry, 7 year-old Olivia, 3 year-old Albert Joseph, and I embarked on an Italian adventure. As you can imagine, with such a wide variety of ages and people, the trip was far from perfect, but it remains one of the most extraordinary experiences of my life.
You see, we didn't get to Italy, and then spend 2 nights in 12 cities. We arrived in Cortona at the most charming, exquisite, rustic, Tuscan farmhouse you could possibly imagine. We unpacked, we settled in, and we made it our home for the next three weeks.
Our first meal was prepared by a radiant Italian woman. I was tasting flavors and eating dishes I never knew existed before. Nearly every night, we ate beneath a grape-vine entwined trellis on a stone table that had been in that exact spot for who knows how long. It was culture shock of the best variety.
Almost everyday I walked in to the town of Cortona, feeling as independent as I've ever felt. I would sit on the steps in the center of the piazza watching the people of this small town, listening to their unfamiliar chatter, and basking in the wonder of it all.
We would take day trips to places with beautiful names like Monticello, Montepulciano, Parma, and Siena (yes, that's where "Sienna"s name comes from), but always coming back to our Cortona.
As I write this so many images are flooding my mind, but I am struggling to find the words. My simple writing can not do my memories justice.
On one of our last evenings, Uncle Albert and I took the now-familiar path in to town. We sat on the on the steps of the piazza, had a glass of wine (even me), and talked and laughed and watched and learned.
At the end of three weeks, I was devastated to leave. Cortona felt like home. I felt the town had adopted me as one of their own. As the car pulled away from the stone walls, I cried, but I vowed to come back.
I had fallen in love. I fell in love with Italy. I fell in love with Italian food. I fell in love with gelato. I fell in love with Cortona. I fell in love with lavender. I fell in love with piazzas, and I fell in love with those steps...the steps that made me less ignorant, less naive, and more curious, more passionate.
I've been back twice, gratefully, but I hunger for more. Every once in a while, I have this overwhelming desire to just pick up and go...this feeling that I NEED to go...this urge to be there in my special place on the steps of the piazza...this overwhelming rush to slow down and experience life, culture, adventure, life-changing food...to stop and smell the lavender.
Until then...Ciao, Bella.
In January, Matt and I had our first meeting with our architect to start planning and designing our dream home. We are in love with our piece of property, so our hope is that in 2016, we will be able to knock down our current house and rebuild.
Doesn't it sound like fun?
But eight months later we have gone around in circles until we ended back at square one. The problem isn't that we don't know what we want, the problem is that we EACH know EXACTLY what we want...and our visions are worlds apart.
I would be blissfully happy in a craftsman style bungalow complete with tons of charm, character, and quaintness.
Matt, on the other hand, would be on cloud 9 if I would only assent to the ultra-modern, stainless steel bachelor pad that he wants.
What does a marriage of those two visions look like? Beats me. And our poor, sweet, patient architect...I feel like we've sent her on a wild goose chase trying to capture each of our idyllic images for our dream house.
Two days ago, I couldn't even sleep because my mind wouldn't stop turning. I felt discouraged and hopeless. I didn't see how we would ever find a style of house we both could truly love.
And that's the thing, the truth is, I don't want Matt to just say, "Fine, do whatever you want, Dara." I REALLY don't. My greatest desire is that we find a perfect compromise. But I don't want either of us to feel like we are settling. There's a difference.
After being emotional and distraught for two days over this, I finally came to my senses (I'm just sorry it took so long). This is not a problem. Yes, it's a large investment. Yes, it's our forever house. Yes, we should be thoughtful and attentive. But this is not a problem.
Last night it was so clear how blessed I am to have a "problem" like this. Matt and I have the opportunity to plan, design, customize, and hopefully actually build the house of our dreams! How could I have lost sight of that? How could I have let the natural frustrations of this process overwhelm the spirit of humility and gratitude I SHOULD have?
I am excited to move forward and determined to handle the "problems" this project dishes out with grace and gratitude. I will not neglect to remember that it's far better for me to store up treasure in heaven instead of here on earth.
