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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.

*photos in post by Iazetti Photos

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