God, Have Mercy On Me, A Sinner

A friend of mine told me the other day that she appreciated my honesty. She said it's refreshing to hear someone say that there are days I don't like my kids. She said she had never heard another mom talk in such a way. It made me sad that I'm, so far, the only person she's heard confess such feelings. But I'm glad she said it because that's kinda the point of the blog. I know there are other moms out there who share my struggles, but it's so "shameful" to struggle. We're supposed to have ourselves and our houses put together. We're supposed to appreciate our kids 24/7. And like them always. We're never supposed to get annoyed or angry or frustrated with these little blessings. Right?

I feel like I don't have an option but to be brutally honest about my shortcomings. Something inside me compels me to not hide the fact that I find motherhood difficult. I don't want to dwell on the negatives, which this blog could easily do, I just want other moms to know they are not alone. And it's okay to feel like you don't like your kids sometimes. (For instance, yesterday, when Solomon was running around, crazy, even though he's been on Ritalin for month now, & having the awesomest of tantrums several times throughout the day. Of course I didn't want to throw him out a window!) We need to learn to be gracious toward ourselves. We're only human, after all.

I don't enjoy being around women who act like they're perfect, or their husbands & children are infalible. It's my biggest pet peeve. Because I know they're lying. If they don't think they're lying, they're lying to themselves. I'd much rather be around people who recognize they're broken. They're the ones who know they need a savior: Jesus.

I love this parable Jesus tells in Luke 18:9-14:

"To some who were confident of their own righteousness and looked down on everyone else, Jesus told this parable: 'Two men went up to the temple to pray, one a Pharisee and the other a tax collector. The Pharisee stood by himself and prayed: "God, I thank you that I am not like other people—robbers, evildoers, adulterers—or even like this tax collector. I fast twice a week and give a tenth of all I get."


'But the tax collector stood at a distance. He would not even look up to heaven, but beat his breast and said, "God, have mercy on me, a sinner."


'I tell you that this man, rather than the other, went home justified before God. For all those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted.'"


I know I am a sinner. I don't need anyone else to remind me (though I may need help recognizing where I misstepped at times). So I want to be around those who are going to share in my struggle and encourage me in the midst of them; not judge me and tell me what I should or should not be doing.


Jesus hung out with the sick and broken. If that's where he is, that's where I want to be.

Welcome to Crazy Town, Population: Me

As I mentioned in my previous post, I take Abilify. Schizophrenics use this drug. I'm in the same boat as schizos. Am I surprised? Not really.

I've been on it for about a month now, but today was the last day. I had to call my doctor because I was super jittery (no coffee yet, either) and couldn't sit still. He told me to call right away if that happened. I haven't actually talked to him today, but we played phone tag and the last call I made his receptionist said he had her call in a new prescription for me. Obviously this is serious.

I'm still not feeling quite right at the moment, so forgive me if this post is nonsensical. At first, I noticed a huge improvement in that I was no longer depressed. But quickly, I became very irritable and grumpy. Yay for less sadness, boo for more grumps. I started feeling out of place with my friends and didn't want to be around them. While I feel full of energy, I'm too pissed off to do anything! I can't focus, either, even with my ADD medication. Even breathing feels annoying to me. And my poor kids, oh, how I can't handle their combination of energy and insanity while on this drug.

Hopefully whatever my new medication is will help me feel better. I'm nervous about not taking Abilify for a few days though, because I missed it once and it sent me into an abyss for 2 days. Scary.

So please pray for my sanity. And that the new meds will do the trick.

Thanks for visiting. Y'all don't come back now, ya' hear?

Good Morning, Sunshine!

I was up at 5:30 this morning -- unheard of! I am NOT a morning person. If only my days could start at 11AM. I think it's the Abilify that makes me wake up so early and prevents me from going back to sleep. (Yes, I do, in fact, take anti-psychotic drugs. Kids make me that crazy.) Since I was already awake and full of energy, I decided to go for a walk.

As I'm walking out the door, there was loud stomping, tearing down the stairs.

Solomon.

Sigh. Man, I was so close....

"Can I go with you?"

"Sure."

I swear that kid has some kind of Mom-dar built into his brain. He doesn't usually wake up until 7 - 7:30. But any morning I wake up before 6, that kid is up within 15 minutes. I literally get no time to myself.

While I was so looking forward to a nice, quiet walk alone, it turned out to be a lovely time walking in the rain with my little boy. We jammed to Gungor. We talked about the wind and rain. We talked about worms and ants. We talked about God and how powerful he is. We talked about the Big Bang. Sometimes his curiosity irks me due to the approximate 3,439 questions he asks on a daily basis (that's a conservative estimate), it is quite amazing how inquisitive he is. I love that he always wants to know so much. I love even more that he understands so much at the mere age of 5.

He really is the coolest kid I know.

Chief of Sinners, Father of Lies, Voice of Truth

"I knew I loved you the moment I saw you. I could see Jesus in you," an older man at church told me this past Sunday. I cried, of course. It was the sweetest things anyone had every said to me (well, second to Solomon telling me I looked like an angel right after Naomi was born).

My tears were also pouring because it felt incredibly untrue. I felt shame and guilt, because this sweet old man, if he only knew what a terrible mother I am, how downright mean I can be to those tiny blessings sometimes, he wouldn't say that. I'm certain he would be appalled and call social services on me. Or burn me at the stake. We are in quaker country, after all.

Paul wrote to Timothy, "Here is a trustworthy saying that deserves full acceptance: Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners—of whom I am the worst." (I Tim 1:15) Do you ever feel like you're the worst of sinners? I do, pretty much daily, as a mother. It sometimes seems to me that my children exist only to remind me of how fallen I truly am. They constantly show me how selfish, how mean, how angry, how impatient I am.

But it's exhausting walking in condemnation. In Shane & Shane's song, "Embracing Accusations" (honestly... I don't care for the song, but I love the lyrics), it says, "I hear [Satan] saying cursed are the ones who can't abide/He's right/Alleluia he's right!" Yes, halleluja, I can't abide by the Law! Because, as the end of the song says, "Singing the first verse so conveniently/He's forgotten the refrain/Jesus saves!"

Christ tells us that he did not come to abolish the Law, but to fulfill it (Matt 5:17). What does that mean, though? It is impossible for us, as humans, to uphold the Law. So the purpose of the Law is to show us that we need a savior. It points out all of our imperfections, our inability to "be good." Christ paid our debt of sin, though. So we can now walk in freedom, knowing that, while, yes, we will still stumble in this life, we do not have to fear death and separation from God.

I'm still not sure how or why that sweet old man sees Jesus in me, I'm not worthy of such a compliment, but I do know I am not condemned.

What's the Point?

Hi. My name is Amanda and I am a mom. I've been mothering now for nearly 6 years, with a total of 3 children. I'm not exactly sure how I got to this point, but I'm here nonetheless. (Okay, so I know how the kids got here -- and it's fun -- I just don't know how I got to such a "low" point in motherhood.) I'm terrible at this whole motherhood thing and you will soon discover just how clumsy I am.

A few years ago we were living in California, 3,000 miles away from family, while my husband was working on his PhD. (Yeah. I definitely hit the jackpot of husbands.) I was a stay-at-home-mom with 2 kids at that point and absolutely no mom friends. It was a miserable existence. I would often sit on the couch and cry while my then 2 year old would tear through our tiny apartment, destroying everything in his path.


A close friend from back home told me repeatedly, "You need to join a moms group. You will have an aneurism and die if you don't." Maybe she wasn't quite that dramatic, but, in hindsight, I'm pretty sure I would've died if I hadn't gotten involved in a moms group. So as soon as we settled into our new home in Maryland, I did just that.


I decided to join the group at our church, since, you know, those are the people I see most often. It just made sense to be in community with those I was already in a community with. I'm sure other women really needed this moms group, but it certainly seemed like God orchestrated the whole thing just for me. Our group has been together for almost 3 years and I've been leading it for about half that time.


It turns out that I was called to do this. God has given me a heart for moms. I love all things moms and motherhood: the good, the bad, the ugly... and the downright disgusting. I know what it feels like to harbor negative feelings toward the smallest people in your life who you love most. I know what a heart wrenching job it is. I know that some days are so joy-filled you feel your heart might explode. But I also know that some days you want to run away and never come back.


My hope for this blog is that others might find encouragement in my story. To know that they are not alone, even though it sure feels that way from time to time. Together, let's learn to laugh at ourselves, forgive ourselves, and to extend grace to ourselves during these rewarding, yet challenging, years.