This is How We Do It: Quiet Time

Rest is vital to our spiritual, emotional, and physical health, but It can be hard to know how to do it in this stage of life. Because of this, it is important to encourage each other in it. Toward that end, my friends Lori and Ashley are hosting a link-up today (which you can find here and here).

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All mothers know that there is not really a time that belongs solely to us. We steal moments when we can, even get out for coffee from time to time. But we are always on call. And particularly in the little years, our children need us constantly.

I love being with my kids. As a stay-at-home mom, I get to be with them almost all the time. I love reading with them, building Legos with them, hearing the funny things they say. I love talking about life and faith with them and watching them discover the world. This time is a gift. They are a gift.

But they are still almost always with me. And that is hard.

I am summoned out of bed at early-o'clock after spending half the night on the floor of my toddler's room. I make breakfast, oversee chores, and read aloud. I make smoothies and grilled cheese, and fill sippy cups with milk. I lay toddlers down for rest and teach the older ones to read and spell and add. I have some tea and try not to fall asleep.

There are no lulls in my day.

Eventually, I would like to get up early. I hope to, but in this stage, I just can't. I badly need the sleep.

So I sneak time. I hide in the bathroom in morning and read the Psalms, rock the baby at nap time and read the epistles. I highlight, re-copy, and try to meditate. I write verses on a dry-erase board to be smudged by little fingers. I whisper breath prayers and beg for help when my strength is spent and I am anxious and I want to quit.

I don't know if this enough. My soul is thirsty and I am weary.

I don't know if this is enough, but I know this: the Lord is with me.

I know that his word is living and active, and wherever I encounter it, it encourages and strengthens me. He meets me in the bathroom, the rocking chair, in my devotional time with my kids, or in a well-timed text from a friend.

I know that he hasn't hit "pause" on my spiritual growth just because I'm busy doing the work he gave me to do.

I know that he cares for me, giving me soul rest when physical rest is hard to come by.

I know that he loves me, and he never lets go of me.

And when my children need me constantly, I remember that I am His child too, and He will give me what I need.

Respite.

Have you ever been swimming or running or hiking and gotten so caught up in the activity that you didn't realize how tired you were? Often I find that in these types of activities, it's not until I come in and sit down that the exhaustion really hits.

These past few weeks have been a sprint. Daniel had a deadline (which means he was working a lot more hours than normal), our kids got the stomach flu (again), I started teaching a unit study at Ava's enrichment program, and then there's just the normal, everyday care, feeding, and educating of four kids. I was getting anxious, and my temper was growing short. I don't think I realized how desperately I needed a break.

And then my in-laws offered to take the older two kids for the week. Last Saturday, Daniel took all four kids (bless him) and met his parents in Springfield. I had a full day to myself.

I had planned to accomplish my entire to-do list that day (when will I have another day in my house without interruption?!), but I sat down to have some breakfast and read for a bit almost fell asleep in my eggs. I heeded a good friend's advice and took a long nap.

Daniel returned that night with the two little ones, and I spent the week with just them. I am feeling refreshed.

This week, I cuddled and read with my three year old. I tried (and failed) to teach my toddler to go to sleep by herself. I took some naps. I had a quiet time that didn't take place in a toddler's bedroom or in the bathroom. I defrosted our fridge and sorted through the mounds of baby clothes. I was by myself a little. I needed that.

This week felt like a week of jubilee (is that a thing?). I thought about sabbath and about the rest that Jesus gives to his weary sheep (even when sleep is still, shall we say, less than optimal). I remembered that my identity is not in my doing, but what has been done for me. This week, the Lord restored me. I am thankful.

This is How We Do It: Meal Planning and Grocery Shopping

This post is a bit of a departure for me; I don't often blog about the practical parts of what I do, mostly because I've always felt like I'm not that good at the practical parts of my "job." At least the parts that have to do with organization and planning. But my friends Lori and Ashley are hosting a link-up, and I thought it would be fun to share ideas and encourage one another.

Historically, I've been a "fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants" type when it comes to meal planning (well, actually when it came to a lot of things). My approach was a mixture of keeping staples on hand that I knew I could make a meal with and sometimes making a grocery list as I wandered the aisles of Target or Joe Caputo's. It mostly worked for us, but I found myself having to run to the grocery store a lot for missing ingredients. This was annoying, but we could do it.

But a couple of things have changed in my life.

1. We now have four kids, and it's no longer as easy to load up and run errands all the time.

2. We started homeschooling, which means I don't have as much flexibility in my day as I used to have. Because you know, they have to be learning stuff.

All that said, we needed more of an organized plan.

I am a big believer in checklists. In fact, we have checklists for lots of things around here. I'm not sure if it's seven years of sleep deprivation or ADHD, but my ability to forget things is astonishing.

For a while, I used an app called paperless for grocery shopping. It allows you to create reusable checklists. The benefit to this system was that I virtually never lost my grocery list. The downside is that I could only sort grocery lists alphabetically, which meant I was often wandering all over the store. In the end, I discovered that I'm more of a paper-and-pencil girl when it comes to planning, so a few months ago I made an excel document that has almost all the things we buy regularly, including food, household, and toiletry items, sorted by category.

Now I leave one of these in my notebook-that-holds-my-life (aka homeschool planner) all week, noting the things we are running out of. Then at the end of the week, I sit down and fill in meals for the following week, and go through my checklist, highlighting the things we need for those meals.

I don't tend to plan specifically for breakfasts, snacks, and lunches. I just have a list of things we typically eat, and how much of those things we go through each week (for instance, I know that we need 3 dozen eggs, 2 big bags of frozen fruit, 3 loaves of bread, 3 quarts of yogurt, etc. )

For me one of the benefits of doing it this way instead of on my phone is that I don't feel like I spend all my time scrolling. I am able to see at a glance almost everything I buy, and I just highlight the items I need (I color-code by store).

Then I take my trusty clipboard (yes, I know) to the store and get shopping. I tend to grocery shop on Saturdays, because we are homeschooling all week and even though our mornings are somewhat flexible, it's almost impossible for errands not to completely derail our day.

Also, as fun as this is:

Things just go faster if I'm by myself.

The half-hour of planning I do at the beginning of the week helps things run so much more smoothly throughout the week. I'm not running out of things all the time, making last minute trips to the store, or buying a lot of food I don't need. It also saves money because the less I go to Target, the less this happens:

Most importantly, it helps me love my kids better, because, let's face it, they don't love the grocery store, and time is a very limited commodity these days. I'd rather be reading to them or going to the park instead of running to the store 3 or 4 times a week because mommy is forgetful.

And that, my friends, is how we do it. :)

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If you'd like a copy of my grocery checklist, feel free to grab it here. I left it an excel file so you could edit it for your own purposes. 

Today He Has Delivered Me

Often when I am up in the night rocking my wee ones, a word comes to me. It hangs over me, stirs up anger or despair, steals my hope, and follows me into the next day:

Impossible.

In these moments, I'm tempted to shake my fist at God for how hard this is. Because these years of mothering little ones have been years of joy, but also of loneliness, exhaustion, and longing.

Over the summer, I just felt raw. I was unusually emotional, and even little setbacks felt huge. I was losing my temper with my kids and struggling with anxiety in a way I hadn't in a long time.

I found myself complaining a lot when people asked how I was. Last night was rough. I am tired. I am burnt out.

I was being honest. I was being authentic.

I was being that mopey person no one wants to be around.

So I started reading the Psalms. And they are honest about how hard life is, but they talk a lot about who God is and how He hears us and how He delivers us. And as I read, I was reminded of the hundreds of ways he has delivered me when my strength was spent and my emotions gave way.

And then I read this:

I have told the glad news of deliverance in the great congregation; behold, I have not restrained my lips, as you know, O LORD.
I have not hidden your deliverance within my heart; I have spoken of your faithfulness and your salvation; I have not concealed your steadfast love and your faithfulness from the great congregation. (Psalm 40:9-10)

I was convicted, because although life is exhausting and difficult, God is ever faithful. And that is why honesty and authenticity are beautiful. I can say, "I'm struggling, and God is holding me up." That is his power made perfect in weakness. That puts praise on my lips and the lips of the saints, because it reminds us of God's character and his faithfulness to his people.

So I will say, today he has delivered me. Tomorrow, he will again. He is my help when this task feels impossible. He is strong, He is near, and He is good.

The Places Where I Sow

I have a small garden. We are growing tomatoes and peppers and strawberries. I had dreams of a kitchen garden, but Daniel thought we should prove ourselves on a few plants first. It's good because I'm a terrible gardener. The whole thing has gone wild. I never staked our tomatoes, and now they are heavy with fruit and splayed across the whole business, overshadowing our poor berries. I forget to water. Even so, we have a few heirloom tomatoes to show for our meager efforts.

This garden, it is enough. I think it is only really alive because the kids enjoy watering it (and each other, coincidentally). If it were solely under my care, it would probably be dead already because the only things I feed in this house are the things that ask to be fed. Loudly.

I can't do many things well right now. My world has shrunk down to my own little house and my own little people. It's hard for me, because I dream big. I want to start ministries and learn to counsel and walk with the hurting and host a community group. I want to fill every need I see. I often forget that I am a limited person in a very demanding stage of life.

Truth is, I haven't the capacity to start a ministry, host a community group, or (sadly) even be part of one. I can, however, do the things I'm passionate about in smaller, deeper ways. I can faithfully and sacrificially love my kids. I can open my door for a friend or a neighbor. I can share a cup of tea in the midst of Legos and broken crayons and cries of "Mama!" I can send texts of encouragement to friends and arrow prayers to Jesus. I can rejoice with good friends around a table while our kids run wild in the backyard. All of this is ministry. And all of it happens in and around what God has me doing in my own home.

What I'm finding is that often the most important things I do appear to be the smallest. And ministry often looks like faithfulness in my own little garden.

So I try to love my littles and my neighbors, and I trust that God will bring a harvest in the small places where I sow.

Dear Tired Mama,

These little years can be brutal. Wonderfully, amazingly, joyfully brutal. And you're in the middle of them.

Maybe people keep telling this is just a season. But from where you sit, it seems like a very long one. You're exhausted, so exhausted, from rocking sleepless babes or teething toddlers, and laying your own desires down every single day.

I'm with you.

Your kids are blessings. And when you finally go to bed at night, you think about how beautiful and funny and affectionate and creative and busy they are. You remember the beauty of the little souls in your care. And then they rouse you from your sleep and you stumble around the house and through the next day and you try to serve them and you try to remember, but it’s easy to get overwhelmed and frustrated. It’s easy to feel like the work you do amounts to nothing.

But Mama, let me tell you: what you are doing is important. Your children are eternal souls. God has entrusted them to you. Your work may seem small and insignificant. And in the world’s calculus, the wiping of noses and bottoms, the soothing of frightened wee ones, the speaking of truth into their young hearts, might be. But remember: though your work may be small in breadth, it is deep, and it is not insignificant. Your kids need you, and nothing is more significant to them than you loving them, teaching them, and showing them grace.

And there is grace for you too. The toil of mothering will pull the sin latent in your heart to the surface. It’s an ugly, painful process. Trust that God knew about that sin before it spilled out into your interactions with your kids and husband. Trust that if you are His child, the cross of Christ is enough to cover your failings as a mother. Trust that He loves you and He is allowing these weary days to bring that sin to the surface so that, over a lifetime, he can finish the work he started in you.

And He is at work. Even when your screaming infant won’t let you attend a church service. Even when quiet times are hard to come by. Even when you had no idea you could be so tired and still be alive. He’s with you, and He’s for you. He will use this difficulty to draw you to himself. He is relentless, and he is working it for your ultimate good.

So don't give up. Ask for strength when yours is spent. He has promised a harvest for your sowing if you endure. And don’t waste the difficulty. Let it have its full effect. Let it push you into his presence. Let it drive you to the throne of grace, where you will find help in your time of need. Let it sanctify you, and draw you into His grace.

Don’t give up, Mama. Don’t give up.

Love,

Another Tired Mama

Train Wrecks and Triumphs

Yesterday was a total train wreck.

Yesterday we did our devotions through tears of frustration.

Yesterday Ava announced halfway to the doctor's office that she hadn't had time to put on her shoes.

She went sock-footed in twenty-degree weather.

Yesterday the kids bent the blinds, fought over the magna doodle, and generally acted like circus monkeys while I tried to talk to the pediatrician. Even though we had a talk before she came in.

Only one injury, thankfully.

Yesterday they had the word 'destroy' etched in their brains.

Yesterday I wanted to quit. I lost my cool. I was annoyed by everything.

Yesterday I apologized.

Today was better.

Today we went to library story time. We got books about art and diggers and (you guessed it) princesses.

What would we do without princesses?

Today we made fairy hats and dinner. We read about Edgar Degas and Rosa Parks and Mr. Putter and Tabby writing a book.

Today, even though the house is in shambles, this task feels sort of possible.

Today the Lord granted me the grace to laugh at the days to come. In that nervous sort of way.

Today I was reminded that God doesn't love me more than he did yesterday, when I was angry and hopeless and depressed. And he won't love me any less tomorrow if I am again.

And tomorrow, come train wreck or triumph, his mercies will be new, and I will need them.

Shepherding Minds and Hearts

In just about every education class I took, I was required to write a philosophy of education. I don't even remember what was in my philosophy of education, but at best, it was naive.
 

I found that being in the classroom helped to develop my philosophy more than any education class ever did. Maybe that's backwards, but there are things you can't quite appreciate when you live in the realm of the theoretical.
 

The same has been true of homeschooling. There have been plenty of hard things about starting right now, having three younger children chief among them. One of the blessings, though, is that kindergarten really requires very little. This has given me time and space to figure out what I actually believe about education. As a result, I think we have worked our way into a philosophy of education, or at least a dream of what learning could be.

Here is what we are coming to believe:

Learning should breed fascination. Children are wired to wonder. It seems to me we often hammer this out of them in a more formal setting. Sit there! Do this worksheet! Tell me the answer! Take this test! I want them to learn the fundamentals, but I also I want them to learn to appreciate beauty, to pursue what fascinates them, to wonder at the world God has made and the people he put in it. It seems to me that a good education finds a way to lay the necessary foundation and to allow a child to do what a child does best: wonder, investigate, ask, and dream.

Learning ought to be enjoyable. Not everything that everything we do has to be fun. Math facts will be learned. Words will be sounded out. Sentences will be diagrammed. They probably won't like all of it. Even so, I want there to be plenty of fun built into our schooling. Some of the most rewarding moments this year have involved an activity based on a book we read together. We made a quilted pillow from family fabric scraps when we studied The Rag Coat. We went to the Caterpillar museum in Peoria and played with the excavator simulator when we read Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel. There is an igloo going up in my backyard because we just read The Very Last First Time. We won't always be able to do so many activities, but it's been an enjoyable and learning-filled way to start our homeschooling journey. I hope we continue to enjoy our learning along the way.

A love of learning is very closely connected to a love of reading. My kids have learned so much this year just by reading good books. We've learned about topics ranging from robots to butterflies, from rocks to Arctic migration, from tide pools to the Statue of Liberty. Ava's been particularly interested in learning about people in history, and we've gotten great biographies of people like Pocahontas, Harriet Tubman, Abraham Lincoln, the Wright Brothers, and Nellie Bly. We are all of us learning to be intrigued.

They ought to be building a foundation now that helps them to learn to think critically. There will be a lot of memorization at this point in their academic careers, and to be honest, they like it. They are good at it. In addition to that, though, I want to begin training them to think critically and solve problems.

Learning involves taking risks. Risks are a central part of the learning process. I don't want my kids to be afraid of them. If they are afraid to attempt something because they might fail, they will stunt their growth. I know; I did it. I want to create an environment where risk is ok. There's not a lot riding on whether or not they sound out a word incorrectly or write their sixes backwards. We gently correct errors as they happen and we move on. I assess them every day, in every activity we do. I respond to their needs and encourage them as they need it. I don't have to test them, and it's such a relief for school not to be about that.

Book learning shouldn't be all they do. Imaginative play, Legos, playing with your baby sister, and helping around the house are all important. Homeschooling isn't only about academics; it's about shepherding my kids when they are learning to read and when they're fighting with each other and when they are trying to give up because I've asked them to do something hard. All of it's important. It's about who they are becoming.

I think all of this most closely aligns me with a literature-based (specifically a Charlotte Mason) approach. Reading an explanation of the method, I found myself thinking: this is us. The focus on reading, the time in nature, appreciation for art and music--it's what I want for our kids. I think they'll enjoy it.

I'm thinking of using Ambleside Online for curriculum next year. We've been using Five in a Row, which we have enjoyed immensely, but it is unit-study based, which makes learning a bit more scattershot than I would like it to be long term. Ambleside seems to be a solid curriculum, and as an added bonus, it's free (other than buying the books/paying the library fines). We will adapt it; I still want to use Singapore Math and perhaps add a history or science curriculum. We will probably still use our own bible study materials. But I'm excited to have found something that fits so well with who we are as a family and as learners (and yes, I count myself as one of the learners!).

And this is who we are: we care about rigor, but more than that, we care about the child. We want them to be creative and playful and interested in God's world. We want them to have a beautiful education, one that will let them be children and fill them with the love of learning. Most of all, we want to shepherd well their minds and their hearts.

Jesus in the Nitty Gritty

I think parenthood, and perhaps motherhood in particular, will make an introvert of anyone.

I'm really not sure where I fall on the introvert-extrovert continuum. I'm not so introverted as my husband, who might not realize he was stranded alone on a desert island if he had a stack of books. Neither am I as extroverted as my daughter, whose ability to work a room is rivaled only by politicians and con-men.

What I do know is at the end of the day, I am worn out by the constant grasping of my little ones. I am exhausted by what one of my favorite writers, Tony Woodlief, has called "the imposing physicality of a child."

Don't get me wrong: I love a good snuggle. I love the gentle weight of a wee babe sleeping on my chest. I love when I get my children up from their naps and hug me tightly about the neck. I even love when one of them climbs into bed with me in the middle of the night. But me versus all four of them all day sometimes feels like a blitz without an offensive line.

A typical day finds them tackling, grasping, and demanding. Even the relative peace of story time quickly descends into a wrestling match as they each clamber for their own spot in my lap. My days are wrought with physicality and need.

It's exhausting to be needed. It drives me into myself. I retreat when I should engage. I get selfish with my time, and impatient with their neediness. I feel overwhelmed and anxious.

Scripture tells me that Jesus understands my fleshly struggles. Hebrews 4:15-16 assures me that "we do not have a high priest who is unable to sympathize with our weaknesses, but one who in every respect has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Let us then with confidence draw near to the throne of grace, that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need." So Jesus gets it. He's been here.

Still I'm tempted to ask: what does Jesus know of being a mother?

But the more I think on it, the more I see that he knows what it is to be imposed upon. Looking at his ministry, I can understand why he needed to get away to pray. Remember the woman who reached out to touch the hem of his garment? The men that cut a hole in the roof to get their paralyzed friend to Jesus? The crowds that pushed in on him, demanding healing and food? He knows what it is to pour himself out, even unto death.

Still, Jesus had compassion on the people. They were like sheep without a shepherd. He didn't respond sinfully. He didn't get annoyed or anxious. He loved them. So I should do that, right?

To be sure, I should try to be a more patient and less anxious. I should love my kids sacrificially. But it struck me the other day: this verse doesn't say he's my example. He is, but it doesn't say that. It says he's my priest. A priest makes atonement for the people so they can come into God's presence. Because he was tempted in every way I am, yet was without sin, I can come to him and find mercy. His obedience when faced with temptation and his sacrifice on the cross bought me access to the throne of grace. It covers my impatience, my passiveness, my anxiousness. And it gives me confidence to ask for help. He promises meet me in my struggles to love my kids well and empower my obedience. He has walked among us needy souls. He knows.

Really, when it comes down to it, I am just a needy child lifting my arms to my Savior. He doesn't rebuke my neediness, but instead invites it. I can come, confident I will receive mercy for my failures and help when I ask. This is the gospel for the nitty gritty everyday.

He is My Enough

Today, the graham cracker crumbs have won. There are Legos scattered around the kitchen, tiny land mines waiting for unsuspecting feet. A load of laundry sits in the dryer for the third day, waiting to be folded and put away. The kids are happily sorting crayons into muffin tins by color, and I am feeling overwhelmed.

I expect things to be going better. I think that's my problem. I would like to get up early, have my quiet time, take a shower, do some housework. I would like to have a routine for the kids and myself that has us learning and crafting and not wearing pjs at noon. I would like to eat lunch.

Instead, I'm exhausted. I sleep like a vagrant--in the bed of a teething toddler, in the guest room with the baby, in my own bed, whispering soothing dreams and prayers over a frightened child. In the morning, I wake to sweet footsteps headed for my bed. I stumble through the day, feed them when they're hungry, read them stories, try to show them how very much I love them. I try not to lose my patience with their questions and demands. And every day I am reminded that my efforts will never be enough.

This is motherhood. It's different than I expected. It is beautiful and joyful and very, very hard. I'm a finite and sinful mom struggling with a task that's too big for me. I am not enough. I was never meant to be. But I know the One who is, and He fills in my not enough and makes it overflow. It brings him glory to do so.

I need to be reminded to rest in grace, and my kids need to grow up knowing that I'm not the one who holds it all together. Looking back, I want them to know that I loved Jesus and I loved them and that I offered up the broken pieces of my efforts and my life to the One who made it enough. So perhaps it is better for me to be confronted with my inadequacy each day. Perhaps it's better that I spend my days battling graham cracker crumbs and never-ending piles of laundry and my own selfish heart. It is better that I know that He is my enough.