This morning I woke up feeling extremely depressed. One of those days where I just want to go back to bed, pull the covers over my head, and try again another day. But my girl needs me to feed her breakfast, the bread needs to be made, and the house needs cleaned. So I can’t do that.

I pulled myself out of bed, got dressed, cause I knew that was the only way I was going to feel motivated to get my work done. . . Motivated, wait, no, no motivation whatsoever. I need determination today. Getting dressed helps feed my determination for some reason.  Got my bread all mixed up and rising, started my laundry, and  then started to clean. I was trying to decide what to listen while I cleaned, it’s usually an audiobook or music. Because I was feeling depressed I chose music, it usually helps me focus on better things. I picked an album I haven’t listened to yet, no idea what was on it. It helped, if nothing else it made me grin cause my girl can’t sit still when music comes on, she HAS to dance. (no joke, we go out to eat and she can hardly sit still long enough to eat cause there’s always music playing, SHE. MUST. DANCE.) Continued to clean and after a bit these words poured out of the speakers, “God, you don’t need me but somehow you want me, oh, how you love me and somehow it frees me to take my hands off of my life and the way it should be. God, you don’t need me, but somehow you want me, oh how you love me, and somehow that frees me to open my hands up and to give you control.” The tears ran down my cheeks and I couldn’t make them stop for quite some time.

He wants me. Not because He needs me. He just wants me.  I didn’t realize how much I needed to hear that. Something in my heart was starving to be wanted, not for what I can give someone but just because I am me. He just wants me. That knowledge did free me to open my hands up and give Him control. I didn’t know I was struggling with control again. I didn’t know my fists were clenched tightly and fiercely. A lot of things have happened the last couple weeks that have shown me just how NOT in control I am. It terrifies me to not be able to keep everything/everyone safe and happy. Those fears and control issues sorta melt away when I remember that He loves me. He wants me. Like really loves me. And really really wants me.

I’ll be honest, I feel weird sharing this post today. That’s what happens when I wait too long between posts. But I WILL push the publish button because maybe someone out there is also having a rough day and just needs to be reminded that they are wanted and deeply loved. If you are that person, please listen to the song: Control by Tenth Avenue North



Reality Check

I am the mother of an incredibly independent child. She rarely needs help with things. She will just move them if they are in her way, clean them if they are dirty, fly around the stores in a mad rush, hmmming over the things she thinks she might need. I forget that she’s just a toddler, just 2 almost 3, because usually she’s 2 going on 16.

This week has been a bit over the top in the whining department. (Probably for both mother human and daughter human) Mornings are nightmares, and it usually goes down hill from there, by the time Clint comes home in the evening I am ready to hand him the child and run for the hills. I have been ready to pull my hair out or break into uncontrollable sobs all week. The stress level at the little house on the green has been way up there. It hasn’t exactly been pretty either.

Last night, we came home from the ball field, she was having one of her melt down whining parties. I threw her in the bath tub and went out to water my parched flowers. She was under the supervision of her daddy and I was under the supervision of my Creator. (ahem) He showed me some vital things I was forgetting.

1, My child needs me even if she’s Little Miss Independent. She needs me to sit with her and snuggle on the couch. She needs stories read to her and my undivided attention. She needs kisses and hugs. She needs me to play with her. I haven’t been doing a good job of that. She acts so grown up, I expect her to not need me or even want me to hang out with her. But she’s two. She needs me.

2, I need her. I need to snuggle with her. I need to hear her giggle. I need to stop what I am doing and watch her dance in the kitchen. I need to dance with her occasionally even though it makes me feel like a dork. Sometimes, in all honesty,  I need her more than she needs me.

3, My two most important jobs are —> pursuing my relationship with Christ, and loving the two people I live with well. If I reach the end of the day and those are the only two things I got done, that’s ok. In fact, that’s perfect. Gourmet suppers and spotless houses, shoot, even getting dressed, none of those matter in the end. Loving well, that matters throughout all eternity.

4, Someday I will look back at this time and wish I could live it again. I will miss this stage. So it’s time to stop throwing a fit and be grateful for everything, even the whining.

5, These are not just MY days, they’re her days too. I need to focus on doing something fun/profitable for HER not the loads of work {I} need to get done.

So I came in, bathed my child, who once again had a major meltdown. Breathed deep, asked her if she wanted to put her jammies on and drink some milk. (ultimate comfort for my emotional 2 year old girl) Told her I was sorry she was so sad. She sniffed a bit and excitedly ran out to get her milk. We snuggled on the couch with stuffed animals for a while. It was amazing how much different she acted. . . or maybe it was just my perspective shifting. Instead of a whining toddler, I could see a little soul that needed some love. I am not sure what really changed in that moment her or me. I do know this –> I am so grateful for a God who gives me reality checks. I cannot imagine trying to do life, especially motherhood, without His hand guiding me.