TWR: Tied Feet

September 12, 2012 by Amanda Conquers

Welcome to The Waiting Room once again, friends! In case you missed the previous posts in the series, here they are:

Today's post will again touch on motherhood, but I have a feeling it applies to other "waiting rooms" too. :)

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A few months ago, I read a post that talked about an Indian proverb: “Children tie the feet of their mother.”

It doesn’t take long for a new mother to realize the truth in this matter. Take, for example, vacuuming: I pick up the room, put away toys. While I am putting away toys, Jed is dragging out more toys. I am now faced with a daunting decision: do I stop him from pulling out more toys so I have less physical work, or do I let him play with the toys so he is contented while I clean even though it means more work for me?? (I usually just let him play.) As soon as the room is picked up, I pull out the vacuum. The kids are immediately excited (I am not sure why, but the vacuum has some kind of magical hold over them). Addy tells me that it’s her turn and she’s going to be my helper before I have even gotten the plug into the wall. Jed plops down right in front of the vacuum and starts an experiment to see how loud of a noise his hand can make on the front of the vacuum… I haven’t even started vacuuming, but I have a feeling you can already see that my figurative feet are tied, slowed down.

Often when we find ourselves in a season of waiting, it’s because our lives are tied up in something, busy. I have talked about capacity before; its definition basically boils down to your God-appointed maximum amount that you can take on. The more weight something has in your life, the less room there is for other things. You might like to do some of the things you are deeply passionate about, but perhaps you have small children that keep you from being able to do very much at all. “Children tie the feet of their mother.”

In the post I had read about children tying the feet, the writer talks about sacrifice. How, in fact, Jesus was bound. I am learning to serve my children, to sacrifice, to love them as Jesus has loved me.

But I think it’s more than learning sacrifice. I think of people who have had to live life missing one of their 5 senses, how the other senses get stronger to compensate for the missing sense. I think of how I had heard of a quadriplegic who learned to paint with his mouth and got quite good at it. Perhaps it is that in this waiting season, this too-busy-for-your-other-dreams moment, this feet-tied life with infants, you are learning to use your other muscles.

I have always stunk at organization, but with 2 littles and a desire to write, I don’t have a choice other than to learn organization. I have always been a bit socially awkward and not the best keeper-upper of friendships, but I desperately need support in this season of my life. I am learning to be friendlier and a better friend. (Tangent: Can you picture how much a mom would need other people to lean on if her feet are in fact tied?? Make time for friends dear mommy-readers!)

And here is the best part: in having our hands and feet tied, in busyness, we are forced to trust God. Like the disabled person that learns to use other muscles or other senses, we learn to trust God. We find our Strength.

When we are busy, we feel weighted down. We worry we won’t accomplish all we need to, and that it won’t be done with excellence. Deep down in this mother heart, I worry, oh how I worry, that I will fail my children, fail God, just completely and utterly suck at it all. I am finding that it’s not really a question of how much do I love my kids, or how much am I willing to lay down my life for them. I love them!I am here in this waiting season attempting to reconcile my heart to reflect what God wants me to do here and now, and only here and now, because I do love them and would do anything for them. So, "will I sacrifice?" is not the question. The question is, "How do I trust that God is with me, that God will see me through this, that I can’t do it all but He can??? That I won’t fail miserably at parenting and never see my dreams accomplished? That in Him, I am enough, and have enough?"

“For of his fullness we have all received and grace upon grace” John 1:16.

God gives us His fullness—the filler in our gaps—the strength in our weakness.

God gives us His fullness—in the busy seasons—in the seasons where you feel like you are failing miserably at everything.

When your feet are tied, you don’t have much choice but to trust Him. And His Grace… oh, His grace upon grace… how He covers us, our kids, our dreams, and gives us far more than we deserve!

He is good.

Amen.

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Maybe we can encourage each other... How are your feet tied?? How do you feel slowed down??

And as a reminder, I love comments (I love hearing from you!). I just installed a new comment manager so that I could more easily reply to you and you could encourage one another. Fingers crossed it works. If you hate it or can't figure it out, do let me know and I will change it or take some time to explain it! I love getting emails too: conqueringhousewife{at}the-cadence{dot}com.

Like what you read here? Consider subscribing to this blog's feed or subscribing by email to have my posts put nicely into your email box? Or join all the conquering housewives on facebook?

See ya on Tuesday for the next post in The Waiting Room Series!

Lots of love to you-- all the beautiful conquering housewives!

Amanda

TWR: When You Feel Especially Ugly While Waiting...

September 10, 2012 by Amanda Conquers

Hello Friends! Welcome back to The Waiting Room. I am stunned at how much God is working in my life in this area. Even though the series is pretty much written, every day I feel like God keeps talking to me, reminding me of the things I had already written down. This stuff applies to so much! Waiting is so HARD... but this search for God's perspective on waiting is changing my life.

Just in case you missed the first parts of the series, I will leave the links for you.

Today I have a post that talks a lot about motherhood and what the waiting can be for, but really it can apply to any time you find your self waiting... I just happen to be a mother so this is the experience I am able to speak from.
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I have a son that is drawn to my garbage bin and my dirty clothes hamper.

Yuck!

A few months back I was anticipating company. I had been in the kitchen loading the dishwasher, scrubbing those pots and pans. I hear a knock at the door. Company! Friends! I let them in, and, as I lead them into the living room, I spot a train of dirty laundry. First, a pair of my chonies (horror of horrors); followed by a pair of Michael’s shorts; a grubby, Addy’s-been-into-Papa’s-cherries t-shirt; and last, but certainly not least, my bra. It should be noted that of all the items in that hamper, the bra is the item I got the most embarrassed over. I may be willing to share my pants size or the number produced when I step on the scale (by the way, that’s kind of a sketchy “may be willing”), but I am definitely not willing to divulge my bra size. I have always felt a little awkward with what seem like oversized bosoms to me attached to my body.

Jed—the resident, dirty-laundry dust sprinkling fairy—pulled out my insecurity and flung it across the carpet.

I picked up every item on the floor in one fell swoop and made some joke about the situation to my friends. It was fine. But it got me thinking.

Kids drag it all out of us.

If you have a dream you are waiting on, parent or not, I can pretty much guarantee that during that waiting season someone will drag out your ugly. Maybe someone joins your team at work that just gets under your skin, maybe someone gets the promotion or the recognition you feel you deserve, maybe you catch yourself gossiping about your next door neighbor that drives a beamer, lives in a bikini, and has countless lovers. Or hey. Maybe you just have kids.

I never realized I was a yeller, until I had a four year old ask me the same question 20 times in a whiny voice that begins to sound like a cheese grater on a chalkboard after the 5^th time. I am learning patience.

I never realized that my fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants, loosely-scheduled, free-spirited ways could have such a profoundly negative effect on children (and my own sanity). I am learning organization.

I never realized the power fear had on my life till I began to imagine the unspeakable horrors that could happen to my children... the way I can just become racked with worry and find myself not wanting to just trust God with my kids. I am learning peace.

I never realized how much I needed God’s grace. I think I have to apologize almost daily for some parenting misstep. The feeling of exasperation that parenting (or a difficult person or circumstance) occasionally leads us to drags out all our ugly. Ugly I never knew I had. Ugly that forces me to fall at the feet of Jesus. Ugly that makes me cry out for help, for grace, for transformation.

And I am transforming.

Kids drag it all out of us.

But God is working on us. Preparing us. It’s not just so we can be better parents, otherwise our lives would end when our chickies leave the nest. That dream in your heart… the one that you put on hold for your family, He’s preparing you for that too. The glorious journey of parenthood—the failures and triumphs, the spills and kisses, the missteps and hallelelujah-chorus, light-bulb moments when our kids get it and we explained it just right—it’s not just for our kids, it’s for us too. God is able to use it all for their good. God is able to use it all for our good too.

Can I just submit this thought? Perhaps it is that whatever waiting room you have found yourself in is the perfect training ground for your dreams?

I guess I never thought of it like that. I thought parenting was some totally separate dream in my heart. That it really had nothing to do with all the other dreams. Wrong. Turns out I need my kids just as much as they need me.

The simple act of having to wait for an unknown length of time shapes our trust and our patience. I never knew how little I trusted God and how impatient I actually was till I had to offer up my dreams and wait. It’s all getting dragged out.

But, I can see it (and maybe my friends can too—this is where accountability is a beautiful thing) and I can place it all in the hands of the One who knows just how to mold and shape my life—for the present, for the future—

For eternity.

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Maybe we can encourage each other... What kind of ugly is being dragged out of you right now??

And as a reminder, I love comments (I love hearing from you!) and anonymous comments are perfectly acceptable! I also love getting emails: conqueringhousewife{at}the-cadence{dot}com.

Like what you read here? Consider subscribing to this blog's feed or subscribing by email to have my posts put nicely into your email box? Or join all the conquering housewives on facebook?

See ya on Thursday for the next post in The Waiting Room Series!

Lots of love to you-- all the beautiful conquering housewives!

Amanda

Happy to be linking up with: Mommy Moments, Motivating Monday, Titus 2 Tuesdays, Women Living Well

TWR: Waiting is... Dying?!?

September 06, 2012 by Amanda Conquers

Welcome back to The Waiting Room! In case you missed the rest of the series here are the links:

And now to jump right in: :)

Christianity is based on the simple yet complicated truth that Jesus died and rose again.

Jesus died on the cross and in 3 days He was raised up from the grave.

In order to be a follower of Christ, one must die and be raised back up.

“Unless you are born again, you cannot see the Kingdom of God” (John 3:3, NLT).

“If any of you wants to be my follower, you must turn from your selfish ways, take up your cross, and follow me” (Matt 16:24, NLT).

And if I am honest, I would prefer to not think about this one. It’s hard. Dying? Really?

Too bad for me and my comfort zone, God is talking to me about just this.

See, I have dreams. Big ones. Ones I am not quite ready to commit to print, but I will say this writer wants to see a book published and this girl who has a big heart for the church and people wants to lead a ministry. With the birth of each of my children I took a step back from leading ministry. And now with my husband in a demanding schooling program and on the brink of stepping into his dream that could land us, well, anywhere within the confines of California, I am almost completely unable to serve in any capacity. I look back on what I used to do, the job titles I used to wear... all of that stuff made me feel important. Can I admit to you, how much I miss it? How pathetically human and all about me I can be?

I am finding that I am restless and, dare I even admit, discontent. I don’t want to just sit still and love on my family. I want more.

Perhaps this makes me rotten. It’s not that I don’t love my family. I DO! I am just struggling through this season of my life that leaves me with little capacity to do much else besides wife and mother.

Perhaps you are there too? Maybe you have had to step away from dreams, or a job, or a place that made you feel important. Maybe you were someone important, or the assistant of someone important, or you put on events, or you got employee of the month at least once a year… You willingly chose to become a domestic diva and lovingly raise children of your own, feeling it your high calling and now you sit amongst spit-up, scrubbing Oxy-clean into accidents on the carpet, and providing breakfast, lunch and dinner plus 2 healthy snacks in between to a group of people that can never provide you with the affirmation and praises you desire for all that you do, well… besides that World’s Best Mother badge that comes in the Hallmark card once a year.

Perhaps, motherhood isn’t what put your dreams on hold? Perhaps it’s something else: a mundane job that you need to make ends meet, an unsupportive spouse, circumstances beyond your control like infertility or illness, or maybe it’s just straight-up not time for your dreams to be pursued.

I have been wrestling. I am fighting God. I don’t want to let go. I don’t want to leave my dreams alone. I want to hold on to what used to be. I don’t want to move forward. I am afraid. Without realizing it, I am closing my hand and throwing my fist at God, and telling Him this isn’t good enough.

I don’t want to let go of my dreams. I don’t want to die.

And here it is:

“Unless a grain of wheat falls into the earth and dies, it remains alone; but if it dies, it bears much fruit” (John 12:24, NASB).

In order to produce fruit, the wheat kernel must be stuck down deep in the earth and covered with soil in the fall, lie dormant through the winter, and in spring it will be raised back up to life. (And by the way, from one wheat seed a stalk grows that has roughly 50 kernels on it.)

In order for my dreams to come to pass, I need to let go of them, place them in the Hands of the One who is able to handle them, and wait for Him to raise them back up.

It’s time for my dreams to die.

It’s time to let go of them, place them in God’s hands, and allow Him to do what He will with them. I have an inkling as indicated in the word of God that these dreams will come back to me, but I also know that I have to be okay if they don’t. I have to die.

Wait.

Wait for the next season of my life and watch God raise those dreams to life.

I am dying so that I may be raised up again.

“Listen carefully: Unless a grain of wheat is buried in the ground, dead to the world, it is never any more than a grain of wheat. But if it is buried, it sprouts and reproduces itself many times over. In the same way, anyone who holds on to life just as it is destroys that life. But if you let it go, reckless in your love, you'll have it forever, real and eternal” (John 12:24, MESS emphasis added).

Letting go. Totally not easy. But I am thinking of the handsome man and the 2 little ones that I want to love recklessly.

I want to love them recklessly.

Recklessly abandon the dreams that are most dear to me so that I can do what is purposed for me to do in this season of my life. Love. Recklessly.

And God. Yeah, I want to love Him recklessly too. Give all to him. [Learn to]Trust Him.

The same Him who “is able to do exceeding abundantly above all that we ask or think” (Eph 3:20 AKJV).

Yeah, that Him.

So here begins the journey. The waiting. The winter to the wheat kernel. The waiting room to the doctor’s visit. But this time is so much more than just raising children (or insert whatever it is that you are doing in this season of your life). It’s so much more than just waiting or pausing. It’s not about biding your time or just getting through it. (And oh, friends, please let’s discover the purpose of this season lest we “just get through it” and look back one day and realized we missed it.) Remember, Tuesday’s post? Waiting is Becoming! We can bury our dream in God. We can! And as only He is able, He will raise it back up to life.

I'd love to hear from you, what has you feeling like you are waiting?

And as a reminder, I love comments (I love hearing from you!) and anonymous comments are perfectly acceptable! I also love getting emails: conqueringhousewife{at}the-cadence{dot}com.

Like what you read here? Consider subscribing to this blog's feed? Or join all the conquering housewives on facebook?

See you back here on Tuesday! We will start looking at the purposes of waiting.

Amanda

linking up with: Titus 2 Tuesdays, Ann at A Holy Experience, Women Living Well

The Waiting Room: You're NOT Waiting...

September 04, 2012 by Amanda Conquers

Welcome to the first day of The Waiting Room Series! (I'm just a little excited... okay, a lot excited) If you missed the introduction, do check it out.

TWR A Call to Live Fully (When You Feel Like You Are Waiting)

Perhaps this isn’t the best way to dive into a series, but sometimes it helps to know you are not the only one, to know that this is the way it’s supposed to be, before you find the plan behind it all. So here it is.

We were made to wait.

Modern day success stories are full of waiting.

The President of the United States must be at least 35 years old to serve. The youngest we have ever had is JFK, and he was 43 at his first Inauguration.
Nelson Mandela spent 27 in prison before being released and becoming the first democratically elected black president in South Africa.
Dana Vollmer, 2012 Olympic gold medalist and world record setter in the butterfly, failed to make the team in 2008. She had to wait 4 years to try again, this time able to win gold.

{There are many, many more; this is just what I had time to research ;)}

The Bible is full of waiting.

Abraham waited for a son—his promise from God for a lineage as vast as the stars, till he was old and it was no longer humanly impossible for him to have a child.
Jacob waited for the woman he loved—for 14 years while working hard for a deceitful future father-in-law.
Joseph waited for his dreams to take place—while being sold into slavery, working as a servant and later a prisoner.
The Israelites waited for a redeemer to lead them out of the bonds of slavery in Egypt.
The Israelites waited 80 years in the wilderness before getting to their Promised Land.
Caleb waited over 40 years to receive his promise—he waited with grumblers and complainers when he was one of two who actually got it right, who actually trusted God.
Hannah waited for a child—while being mocked for her barrenness.
David waited around 20 years to be King over all Israel.
Jesus waited till he was 30 to begin his ministry.

By the way, these are just a few examples. Just about every person in the Bible had to wait for something.

I love the way John Ortberg puts it: “Biblically, waiting is not just something we have to do until we get what we want. Waiting is part of the process of becoming what God wants us to be.” Waiting isn’t for torture. Waiting isn’t God’s cruel way of dangling that one thing you want most in front of you and saying “Neener! Neener! You can’t have it.” Waiting isn’t a giant pause button that gets hit over your life. Waiting is for becoming—becoming the woman God wants you to be. Waiting is a tool for refinement in the Master’s hand.

David was anointed king over Israel as a young boy, and no doubt, as he stood surrounded by his older brothers looking at him, perhaps even a bit jealous of him, David wondered at the mystery of it all and a dream was born in his heart. King of Israel. But David didn’t put on a crown and begin ruling that day—he was anointed King. God made his plans known. And David spent 20 years becoming the King of Israel. As he learned to trust God, as he learned to fight, as he married a princess, as he obtained faithful subjects and mighty men of valor… David spent 20 years in the thick of trials (many of those years spent running for his life). David wasn’t waiting to be King. David was becoming King.

You are becoming too.

I love the simple line Ann Voskamp says in her book, One Thousand Gifts, “We see God in rear view mirrors.” It’s hard to see how God is working to make the way out ahead of us. It’s hard to see the way God can use and is using everything. But it’s so easy to look back and see all the ways God was faithful, the way He prepared us for where we are today, the way he put certain people in our path, the way He opened the right doors and closed the wrong ones and how grateful we can be for it.

It’s easy to look at other’s lives, their successes, the way they are where we want to be, and see how they became—see how God faithfully molded and shaped them. We see God in rearview mirrors. But I say, you too are becoming. God is working it out in you. Or do you not know how precious you are to Him? How much He loves you? How He sees the masterpiece in all your flaws? You may want to compare; stop. You may want to be fully arrived; stop. The Master is at work—the artist at the sculpture, the chrysalis for the butterfly…

You aren’t waiting. You are becoming.

I would love to know, what are you “waiting” on? What are the dreams in your heart that you are believing for? I would love to pray with you. {We would love to pray with you… I have a feeling many of the conquering housewives would love to pray with you as we encourage each other through our season of “becoming”} If you would like to be anonymous, I gladly accept anonymous comments... (just be sure to not include a URL if you post anonymously, blogger marks it as spam).

If you like this post, consider subscribing to my feed via feedburner, GFC or email? Don't want to subscribe, that's okay! The Waiting Room posts will be up every Tuesday and Thursday for the month of September. Do you know someone that may need to hear the words spoken here?? Consider sharing this post? My blogging/writing friends, you are welcome to use the buttons in the right column. :)

Looking forward to learning how to ~~wait~~ BECOME with you, friends!

xo
Amanda

The Waiting Room: An Announcement and A Call to Live Fully (When You Feel Like You Are Waiting)

August 28, 2012 by Amanda Conquers

I have been struggling.

See, I love being a mom. It’s been a dream of mine dating back to dollies and tea parties. And more than a dream, I love those two children that came with the dream so much more than the fulfillment of the dream. I love their big personalities, their small hands, their mispronunciations (like how my daughter calls granola bars “tuna bars”) their “rub-it-in-and-keep-it-forever” slobber kisses, reading stories, mischievous grins, holding their eyes in my gaze and the way they are so happy to look back into my eyes, “Stacks on mom and dad!”… I love my kids!

But sometimes I live tired. Between the disciplining, the diaper changes, the spills in the carpet, the packing up 2 small children and the diaper bag and carrying it to the car, the housekeeping, the cooking, the grocery shopping, the relentless whiney questions, the ignored instructions, and the way I feel I will never be able to shower or pee by myself again… this woman feels like her life has come to a grinding halt. There might be dreams in my heart beyond being a parent, but with only 24 hours in a day and small children that take up most of those hours, it’s just simply not time to pursue those dreams.

I’m waiting.

Last month, I spent an hour in a waiting room at my son’s pediatrician’s office—an hour of feeling my calm resolve deplete as I pulled Addy off the magazine table, followed Jed around the waiting room, took Addy to the bathroom, worried over the germs my kids might be touching, tried to keep them both happy and occupied… When the nurse at long last called our name, the “Hallelujah” chorus rang through my mind. We survived the wait! Then, she took Jed’s temperature, checked his measurements, and placed us in a room to wait for the doctor for another 45 minutes—a room with a swivel chair, an expensive computer, zero toys, and no Disney movie. Our wait was not over; it may have even gotten worse. I still needed my already-depleted calm resolve as I continued to wait with 2 active, small kids.

In this life, at some point or another, you will feel like you are waiting.

And, let’s face it, you probably struggle with not liking the wait too.

There are all sorts of things that can make you feel like you are waiting: a desperate and seemingly hopeless search for Mr. Right, attending a schooling program so you can get a good job, a super slow do-they-really-want-to-fill-that-position?! hiring process, a frustrating home-buying experience, a month-to-month stare at a pee-stick wishing a plus sign would appear, a financial “drought,” an illness, recovery from an illness, a deep period of grief and loss, or “life just happening” unexpectedly. And that doesn’t include the little “waits,” you know, the waiting in long lines, waiting in doctor’s offices, waiting in dmv’s, waiting for test results, waiting for a reply… We do a whole lot of waiting in this life.

I look back to my life before kids and all that I was able to accomplish. I look at the titles I wore, the verbal appreciation, the way I worked hard and had something to show for it. As much as I love being a mom, I miss all that stuff. I feel unappreciated. I feel frustrated with the way that I clean while my kids make a different mess. The messes never stop. And I think I accomplish nothing. I have been struggling.

But I am also a relentless question asker (and I wonder where my daughter gets it from?!) I have been asking God how to live here and now. FULLY live here and now. How to not JUST survive. Because I have a feeling that even though I feel like I am waiting for my life to begin again, I am living life. I don’t want to miss it. I don’t want to live it poorly. I don’t want to squander the years of my children’s small preciousness because I am discontent, because I feel like I am waiting. For my sake, their sake, for my husband’s sake, I need God’s help!

Fortunately, God’s been talking to me. I’ve been writing it down.

See, God wants to do BIG things in our lives and hearts when we are living in those seasons where we feel like we are waiting.

Waiting is so FULL of purpose.

I want to know what the purpose of NOW is. I want to fulfill my purpose, my “for such a time as this.” And I want to be content with it. Joy FULL when it feels like my dreams are paused because, really, I AM living right now, and I can be living FULL of Joy.

It feels a little crazy to be admitting all of this. But I know I am not the only one.

I hear the struggle when I talk to my friends that have young children. I hear the struggle when I talk to someone heading into a major surgery that means a long recovery. I hear the struggle when a woman has spent over a year trying to get pregnant and a lifetime wanting to bring life into this world.

How do I trust God when I don’t see my dreams happening?

How?

How!

We are going there for the entire month of September. God has been speaking to me, answering these questions and I feel compelled to share it with you. This is an ongoing conversation. I have not fully arrived, and while I would normally say one should not attempt to share from where they are still struggling, I just feel this stirring that I can’t shake. It’s too important for me, for you, to learn how to trust God here and now with everything. Who wants to squander the one life they have to live? Miss the purposes they were created for? I feel weighed down with a message that I have to share. And because I have not arrived, perhaps we can help each other get there??

If this pricks at you, even a little bit, consider coming back every Tuesday and Thursday for the month of September. I have seven nuggets to share with you, plus, I even have a guest post (my first ever guest post! From someone I think you will adore and whose words will encourage you!) I [most likely] will be putting all other posts on hold for the month of September. If you just like my recipes and projects or my gift counting pictures, don’t worry, they should resume after September.

Could I also challenge you to join me (US!—all the conquering housewives) on facebook? (<---a place I love to conversate.) I need you, we need you, and, perhaps, you need us. Let’s encourage each other together!

Let’s learn how to FULLY live!

Let’s ENJOY the waiting room we might feel we are in! (Maybe even change our perspective??)

Let’s get that “Insight and Encouragement for the Seasons of Waiting”

Looking forward to learning with you!

Amanda

Might I humbly ask you to invite your friends if you feel so compelled? A facebook share? A tweet? Or maybe even grab a button?

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Linking Up Here:

For when you feel defeated...

August 27, 2012 by Amanda Conquers

If I am to be brutally honest, I struggle with complacency.

Maybe we all do?

I think of snowglobes—the way you can stir them up and they are beautiful, but there’s something in them that wants to “settle down.” While it’s being shaken the glitter and the snow go all directions, and the minute you set that globe down, the glitter and the snow begin to fall, settle down, return to order.

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Who wants to live all stirred up?

Who wants to live in a snow storm?

Friends, I have been “stirred up.” Unforseeable little life storms, one after another. I feel shaken, raw. But in it, I realize just how settled down I was. Complacent. In my parenting, in my marriage, in my life. I was just okay, and just okay being just okay.

And now,

Now, it’s time to fight.

Fight for my marriage. Fight for my kids. Fight for myself.

Fight that stinking enemy that comes to kill, steal and destroy.

I think of the fight movies from the 80’s—the ones where the hero encounters a bully/bad guy of some kind, realizes he needs to learn to fight, and then cheesy fight music get’s cued while the hero goes into training.

Someone needs to cue my cheesy fight music. I’ve got to learn to fight.

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And really, everything in this life of any real value, will have to be fought for. You want your marriage to last—you gotta fight for it. You want your kids to know God and how to live for Him—you gotta fight for it. You want to live your life for God—yep, you gotta fight for it. Maybe you don’t like what I am telling you. But remember that whole Armor of God thing from Sunday School (Ephesians 6 ring a bell?)?? Yeah, that’s in the Bible for a reason. ;)

When you feel defeated. When you feel like things are falling apart. When life feels out of control.

It’s time to fight.

Don't be complacent. Put on your metaphorical 80's sweat band and your big girl panties too and Fight!

Alright, so here is me getting my Mr. Miyagi on and giving you a list of ways to fight.

Know who/what you are fighting. “For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in heavenly places” ((Ephesians 6:12) Don’t fight your kids when they are rotten… fight FOR them. Fight the enemy that wants them. Don’t fight your husband when he makes a butthead move… fight FOR him. Don’t beat yourself up when you make mistakes. Realize you are battling your humanity and the enemy that wants you. (This isn’t me saying, however, to excuse bad behavior; “The Devil made me do it.”)
Cry Out.If you read the Old Testament of the Bible, you will find a whole lot of the phrase “cry out.” And immediately following that phrase you will find God showing up. I don’t know why it works, but I do know that God hears our cries. And when we match our desperation for Him with the loudness of our cry, He shows up. This past weekend I fought for peace and my son as I drove to the hospital after my son managed to locate and open a bottle of Nyquil. I cried out. God showed up. And while my son hadn't drank enough to be a problem, I also didn't lose my peace waiting to find out. I fought for both out loud: "God I need you right now!"
Bible. Pray. Repeat. Yep. I hate to give a simple pat answer, but this is the “wax on, wax off” move of spiritual warfare. Try reading in Ephesians if you don’t know where to start. If you don’t know how to pray—try this: Find a quiet spot (or put on some music if you have some mind-wandering tendencies). Have a pen and paper handy for any random thoughts that may pop up in your head (like grocery list item, appointment, need-to-do). Talk to God. No really. All that’s in your heart. Give Him a chance to speak. Be quiet. Try journaling too.
Do what you least feel like doing.

When life gets hard, do you tend to hide? Crawl out from under that rock, and ask for help. Find some friends and hang out with them. Even consider being vulnerable (just make sure you’ve chosen the right friends for this).
When life gets hard to you tend to run? Sit still, quiet yourself, pray. It may take a while for you to “chill out” but sit quiet until you do. Don’t go anywhere until you’ve heard from God.
When life gets hard do you tend to pick fights? Realize you are not fighting anyone (see point 1). Don't talk. Be quiet. Grab the people who you are the most angry with and pray with them, for them, ask them to pray for you.

Fighting isn't all that fun. But you know what is awesome in it? When you realize you aren't supposed to actually fight your husband, but fight the enemy with him; when you realize you aren't supposed to actually fight your kids, but fight the enemy with them; when you realize you aren't supposed to actually beat yourself up, but fight the enemy that is plaguing you, trying to tell you how much you suck at life... when you grab the hands of the one's you love most, even in the midst of the greatest snow storm... love huddles you close. Inseparable bonds are formed in storms. Love conquers all.

And these three things prevail: faith, hope, and love. And the greatest of these is love.

Have any ways to fight to add to the list?

I may have time to share a favorite recipe later today. We shall see.

But I shall see you all tomorrow for my big announcement :)

xo
Amanda

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I'm Not Sorry

August 20, 2012 by Amanda Conquers

There’s a phrase I find myself saying far too much: “I’m sorry.”

Now this is a very handy phrase if you think about it. When you do something wrong or on accident, there it is, remorse and sympathy all rolled into one phrase: “I’m sorry.”

I find myself saying it when I do stuff right though.

“I’m sorry the house is such a mess” (when it’s a mess because I chose to take the kids to the park instead of cleaning so they could get the fresh air they needed).

“I’m so sorry; I just can’t do that right now” (when I have to say no to a service opportunity that will take up time that needs to be spent with my family… the family who has a dad who is rarely home, a mom who is really tired and 2 kids who are really young and active).

“I’m sorry I’m late” (when I am running late because I have 2 kids to corral. And while I definitely need to work on starting to get out the door earlier, I cannot help all the unseen dilemmas that might plague my departure—lost keys, temper tantrums, or diaper disasters).

Truth be told, those sorries are just me living under the weight of expectations. Simply put: I just really want people to like me. I don’t want them to think I am an unhelpful and unpunctual slob.

The crazy part of this is that I am fairly certain [most] people don’t notice such things or place expectations on me. So why do I always feel compelled to say sorry?? Could it be that I have my own set of expectations for myself? Could it be that there is a struggle inside of me—of fear? I am afraid I am not enough.

When I enter my messy abode, see the dishes, turn down someone’s request for help in the nursery at church, walk by the laundry pile that’s been there for 3 days, walk in late to a room full of people who managed to make it on time, I feel the weight—that “you aren’t good enough and you’ll never get it right.”

But, I need to not live under that weight. I need to not be sorry. Not because sorry isn’t a good thing. Sometimes it is a really good thing. But this girl needs to give herself permission to live free from my own expectations--permission to not "have it all together." I need to not think so little of myself—I am not an unhelpful, unpunctual slob.

I need to be free to choose the better thing—the thing that builds up those most precious to me rather than please the ones whose opinions might judge me. Everyone has only 24 hours each day—24 hours to devote to whatever one chooses. My 2 littles need a whole lot of those hours. They are little. They will only be little once.

Someone once told me, “your no is just as spiritual as your yes… and sometimes even morespiritual.” No can be freeing. No lives outside of people’s opinions and expectations. No says you know what you are supposed to do and what you are not supposed to do. (And, of course, like many things there are the instances that one can overuse No, but I think you get the point.)

Sometimes one needs to say No to cleaning the house… and yes to playing with the kids.

Sometimes one needs to say No to service opportunities… and yes to family time.

Sometimes one needs to say No to rushing out the door in a mad frenzy… and yes to peace.

And sometimes one needs to not apologize for any of it. (Okay, so I am not actually advocating rudeness. Say "I'm sorry" if appropriate. Just don't apologize to yourself for keeping the best things first. No need to shout "No! And I'm not sorry about it either!" at the poor nursery volunteer. I wish there was a phrase in the English language that conveyed sympathy and love, while at the same time also indicating personal freedom from expectations.)

Amanda, you are doing an awesome job. You love on your kids. You keep the most important things first. In Him, You are enough. He will be your Strength if you cry out for help. You were chosen for Addy and Jed. You were chosen for Michael, and every day since 2005 Michael chooses you. You are enough! There will be dishes, there will be messes, you will get to them. Step out from under the weight of your own dang expectations, Amanda. Love your kids and your husband. And know, YOU ARE ENOUGH! {So stop apologizing like you aren’t enough}

This is my pep talk to myself. I thought perhaps someone else could benefit from it too.

Amanda

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