33
Everyone wants a revolution. No one wants to do the dishes. ‘I was, and remain, a Christian who longs for revolution, for things to be made new and whole in beautiful and big ways. But what I am slowly seeing is that you can’t get to the revolution without learning to do the dishes. The kind of spiritual life and disciplines needed to sustain the Christian life are quiet, repetitive, and ordinary. I often want to skip the boring, daily stuff to get to the thrill of an edgy faith. But it’s in the dailiness of the Christian life—the making the bed, the doing the dishes, the praying for our enemies, the reading the Bible, the quiet, the small—that God’s transformation takes root and grows. - Tish Harrison Warren
I came across this quote months ago scrolling through Instagram and it made me pause. I thought to myself, yes! why does no one ever do the dishes? More specifically, why don’t the kids ever do the dishes? It was one of those days… Actually, who am I kidding… those days occur often in our home where I felt the daily drain of doing the repetitive, mundane tasks of running a household. But coming across this quote gave me pause. It was just the encouragement I needed and it helped me to move on and forward with joy. Now the question stands, how do I pass this joy on and how do I encourage the kids to have the same attitude?
Love one another with brotherly affection. Outdo one another in showing honor. Do not be slothful in zeal, be fervent in spirit, serve the Lord. Rejoice in hope, be patient in tribulation, be constant in prayer. Contribute to the needs of the saints and seek to show hospitality. Romans 12:10-12
I printed, laminated and hung this on our fridge, highlighting the words outdo and seek. I preach this to the kids, sure, but it’s more a sermon to myself. The longer I find myself in this role of authority over adolescent teens (as well as my 4-year-old), the more I realize that I have to be able to walk the talk before anything takes shape. I don’t think I’m the first to say that this is harder to say than to actually do. We are so selfish, aren’t we? We’re always thinking about ourselves. What about me? Why me? Does it not matter what I think, want, feel, need?
The last few years (2021, 2019) have been some pretty dark years…. reading back on those words of mine I can already think to myself, “Oh Dorothy…” and writing this now I get emotional because I see how faithful God has been to me. There have been a handful of my friends who have turned 33 before me… and I have often referred to this number as the Jesus year—the age he was when he was crucified. I think about what he must’ve endured in those years of life and why he had to go so young? How much more could he have done? But then he was crushed for our iniquities, he was despised and rejected by mankind, he bore my shame so that I could live (Isaiah 53, one of my favorite passages). He has gone through every single thing I’ve thought and more. So, how lucky I am to have this life… I think I’m just barely beginning to get it.
Most of us want something great of our lives. We want to leave a mark. We want to be remembered. I recall my earliest days of motherhood, I struggled with the title of just mom. I wanted more, to be doing more, to be known for more... and now as the daily demands more from me, I find myself longing for less. Oh, how fickle we are as humans… and how God knows us so much more than we know ourselves. We were always meant for less. Less busy. Less distractions. Less stuff. So that’s I’m hoping for as I approach my mid-30’s. More quiet. More simple. More time to write (fingers crossed!) and read. More time with my husband, with my friends, with the kids. More of Jesus.
32
Despite all those feelings above (and trust me, I do believe in self-care lol), that as a believer and as a Christ-follower, didn’t I ask to be used? Didn’t He lay down His life for me? Don’t I desire to be like Jesus? To hang out and to love those who aren’t perfect and daily make mistakes (hello, that’s me)? I’ve spent little time in the Word this year, but the few times I’ve been able to spend some time doing so, it is always a reminder that damn, it’s not about me.
I feel like I’m a pretty open book, but I don’t share too often online my daily struggles. Ask any of my friends though and they’ll tell you I tell it like it is and I don’t shy away from sharing how things really are when asked… I didn’t write a birthday reflection last year and I do regret it. It’s been exactly two years since I’ve written on this blog… Last year, I had nothing good to say… so I didn’t say anything at all. To be honest, maybe even six months ago, I was in a very dark place. I remember, in a moment of frustration and anger towards the kids, telling Aaron that I hated my life. He looked surprised, as if he didn’t know who he was looking at. I didn’t even know if I meant what I said… I think I did? There were good parts of it, yes, but most days I was angry and resentful. Nothing was in my control. It seemed like no one in my household cared for me at all. They took, without asking… they said things, without knowing how deeply it hurt me or affected me. There were tears cried in my loneliness and sadness that no one could comfort. It seemed like no one cared. This wasn’t what I had planned for my life. This wasn’t what I had envisioned. This isn’t the clean home I want, this isn’t the gentle and kind environment I’d want to raise my kids in, the encouraging and this is all fun and games where everyone feels loved, cared for, seen… no, this isn’t it.
But this is a reflection post and I do want to share where things are at this point in time, because I know it will change. Things have been hard this year too, but in a way that I can’t quite describe. At present, I now have six kids in my home ages 3-16, five of whom aren’t biologically mine, but blood-related cousins of mine… Aaron and I have taken care of the two girls for over 2 years, and the boys for over a year… I’ll paint a picture of my raw, human self a year ago yelling at the top of my lungs, cursing at them, at God, as to what the hell was I doing taking care of these kids… what the actual fuck. I did not know what I was doing. I still do not know what I am doing. But I have learned a lot along the way that has in short, made me hopeful. Somehow, somewhere I feel like I see a glimmer of light… despite the fact that just a few hours ago, I was lecturing them once again… (I really hate doing this. I hate being naggy and micro-managy. Sometimes I don’t even want to do it all. I’ve made it through the past few months picking my battles… and I have picked very few because it always leads to disappointment and frustration. A balancing act that always tips in their favor. How do parents decide when/where to leave a topic? How much grace to be shown? How and when to challenge the kids? If I don’t, does it enable them? If I do, I risk being disrespected and having it all thrown back in my face) These are questions I ask myself so many times… the truth is, I can’t control them. And the things I have asked of them and desire for them, I still need to work on it myself. A question I am always wanting to ask my kids is, “Did you help someone today?” or “What did I do for someone else today?” or “When was there a moment today, in which I thought of someone else and not myself?” How do we live outside of ourselves… to be generous, to be kind?
I’ve been a believer for as long as I can remember… I remember accepting Christ at a young age, first grade if memory serves me correctly at Summer Hummer, a week long vacation bible school down in Olympia where I grew up. And then again in 8th grade, at a conference I went with my youth group, dying to myself, making the theme verse He must become greater, I must become less… my life verse. And as I write that, I’m just realizing that it has never become truer than this past year.
When we took in the kids, so many people made the comment along the lines of, Those kids are so blessed to have you. They’re so lucky. You’re going to change their lives. And it always rubbed me the wrong way… I could see why they would say that and understood where they were coming from, but the thing is my cousins have been through so much—no kid deserves any of it. They’re not lucky to have gone what they have. I’ve realized that it is actually the kids who are changing my life. I have to remind myself daily, and it only happens when I’m able to slow my mind down, get rid of the clutter, the unimportant demands of life and spend some time thinking about the root of why I do what I do, what I’m doing and who I’m doing it for, that I can be reminded once again that this life is not about me. Despite all those feelings above (and trust me, I do believe in self-care lol), that as a believer and as a Christ-follower, didn’t I ask to be used? Didn’t He lay down His life for me? Don’t I desire to be like Jesus? To hang out and to love those who aren’t perfect and daily make mistakes (hello, that’s me)? I’ve spent little time in the Word this year, but the few times I’ve been able to spend some time doing so, it is always a reminder that damn, it’s not about me.
We have to realize that we cannot earn or win anything from God through our own efforts. We must either receive it as a gift or do without it. The greatest spiritual blessing we receive is when we come to the knowledge that we are destitute. Until we get there, our Lord is powerless. He can do nothing for us as long as we think we are sufficient in and of ourselves. We must enter into His kingdom through the door of destitution. As long as we are “rich,” particularly in the area of pride or independence, God can do nothing for us. It is only when we get hungry spiritually that we receive the Holy Spirit. - Utmost for His Highest
God, I’m desperate. I’m destitute. I cannot do this. And I don’t. "You guys are saints. I could never do what you’re doing.” The truth is NO ONE CAN. I CAN’T, YOU GUYS. I’m not a saint. This is Christ in me. You can only do it when you have to. And I have to. I want to. This is the Gospel. For to me, to live is Christ, and to die is gain…. and it is a daily dying. And when I realize this, I see the glimmer of light again. Joyful because I know I’m not perfect, but someone is making me Whole and Perfect. Joyful because God actually sees something that He can work with? Despite the times I’ve messed up? Joyful because I know He sees me. That is something to be grateful for. I see You too, God. I see what You’re doing.
Twenty-nine
How can I really describe this past year and encompass all the ups and downs in some words? It’s a little daunting but I know that I will appreciate this years down the road. A year ago, I was almost 34 weeks pregnant and here I am with a ten-month old sleeping on me as I find some time to reflect. Two days ago I managed to get her to nap on her own (hallelujah!!!) but today I want her to be close to me. My womb was her home and she still finds comfort on my body.
It is no longer just me. It is me and her. It will never be just me again (but really, it was never just me as there are always others to think about), but now I literally have no choice about the matter. If anything, I think this past year has been a tangible lesson in selflessness.
I don’t want motherhood—being a mom—to be my identity. It is not. But there’s no denying that it is now a part of me. I don’t want this reflection to just be about being a mom, because I’m not just a mom. I apologize to myself, to my fellow mom peers, to Libby and to my husband for having ever uttered the words, “Oh, I’m just a stay-at-home mom.” A past friend from college called me out on that when I unexpectedly ran into her at a wedding this past fall. It’s not just a just. It is so much more.
I read in some book awhile ago (maybe it was Jesus Feminist?) that motherhood is a ministry and I have had to remind myself of this over and over again. It is one of my highest callings, along with being a faithful wife and partner. These roles are not something to check off the life to-do list once you’ve received them. The work goes beyond saying “I do” and going through the pain of labor and delivery. When we found out we were pregnant, I told Aaron that I wasn’t even really scared of birth. What scared me even more was that I would have to raise a good and kind human. For at least 18 years. Doesn’t that labor seem more … well, laborious?
I’ve had to remind myself that being a mom is a ministry when I’ve been told in the past year that I should be ‘serving’. I should be using the gifts that God has given me to serve others. I should be in church. I should be tithing. I should be doing A, B, C… I’m not writing this to defend myself against these statements… because at the end of the day, my relationship with Jesus is that. Mine and His. But that’s how it is. That’s where I am. This is how I can use my gifts right now. This is what I’m called to right now.
And being selfless manifests itself in other ways as well. I can’t spend as much of myself on other relationships anymore. Anyone who knows me well enough will know that I’ve had friendships in multiple circles back in college and in years past. A friend guessed that I was an E in the Myers-Briggs test and was surprised to find out that it’s quite the opposite. I do know a lot of people and I do enjoy spending time with different types of people… but now more than ever, it’s about the quality of my friendships.
I know that entering parenthood put us in a different phase of life. Those not here yet may or may not assume we’re busy with baby/etc. But the thing is, parenthood can be lonely. Motherhood can be lonely. Especially when I can fit pretty easily into the husband-goes-to-work and I’m-at-home-with-baby scenario. Which, by the way, I’m totally cool with. (Seriously, I am so lucky that financially we can afford for me to be home with Libby.) So when I say I have had to learn to be selfless, I mean that I have had to not put as much stock in my friendships these days than I’ve done in the past. It’s not that I don’t want to, because truly I do, but that’s how life is right now.
I’ve also learned this past year how capable I am—how being selfless can make you capable of other things you didn’t know you were capable of. Like, how funny is it that I fight tooth-and-nail sometimes to put Libby to bed, but the moments before I put her down to leave for the night, I am already missing her?… how my body wants to put her down because my back aches but my heart wants to keep holding her forever? I am capable of that type of love? I am capable of that type of selflessness? Will I, do I? commit myself to this for the rest of my baby’s life?
I didn’t know I had this in me. And I know motherhood… parenthood… is just a small picture of how God loves us.
This reflection is not about being a mom… In some ways, I feel like I’m starting over as I enter this new year of life. I am deconstructing the things I’ve been taught in my faith and in my life… and what I want to keep and what I don’t. I’m back in square one in my relationship with God. I see it (that is, life) with fresh eyes… I see it from the eyes of being a parent, now—and how God views me as His child and in this way, I am still learning. And that… yep, that’s humbling.
*photos in this post by Alejandra Maria
Merry Christmas!
Aaron preached last weekend at RVC for our mini-advent series at church last weekend. It's just a short 15 minute sermon, but a great reminder that Jesus came as a humble baby boy, to lead us as our Shepherd, to save us from our sins.
Merry Christmas, friends and family. May you be reminded of Jesus' love, grace and compassion. May we all follow suit with kindness.
“For thus says the Lord God: Behold, I, I myself will search for my sheep and will seek them out. As a shepherd seeks out his flock when he is among his sheep that have been scattered, so will I seek out my sheep, and I will rescue them from all places where they have been scattered on a day of clouds and thick darkness. And I will bring them out from the peoples and gather them from the countries, and will bring them into their own land. And I will feed them on the mountains of Israel, by the ravines, and in all the inhabited places of the country. I will feed them with good pasture, and on the mountain heights of Israel shall be their grazing land. There they shall lie down in good grazing land, and on rich pasture they shall feed on the mountains of Israel. I myself will be the shepherd of my sheep, and I myself will make them lie down, declares the Lord God. I will seek the lost, and I will bring back the strayed, and I will bind up the injured, and I will strengthen the weak, and the fat and the strong I will destroy. I will feed them in justice.”