All is calm

We did it. Christmas 2014 is in the bag. The boys are napping, the girls are watching a Christmas movie and I am sitting at the dining room table with my cold coffee. Cold coffee is the name of the game for this mama, I don't even mind it any more. 

I am thinking about how important rest is. Last week had so many details, last minute meetings and plans to be executed. By Friday, I admit, I was a frazzled mess. We had church concerts with costumes, school concerts with costumes, class parties, work parties and family coming for the holidays. Everything was fun, I enjoyed the events, but all of the preparation took its toll. I am not a naturally organized person but I have learned to be organized because I hate crisis. Most of the time I can spin quite a few plates without dropping any, but when I get stressed the first thing to go is my ability to remember details. 

The stand out moment for me was on Wednesday. Both of our girls were sick at home with fevers. I was pleased with myself because I remembered to bring presents for the teachers (as a new school mom I didn't get to it last year, I admit it never really crossed my mind). But this year I remembered - yay me! So there I stood, outside the pre-school door, ready to tell the teachers that Alina was sick but "look! I make cookies for you!"

I was a little early, so as I was waiting I noticed the other moms coming to drop off their children with their own presents for the teachers. I also noticed that they had platters of fruit and cookies for the other kids....my mind was spinning because I started to realize that while I had remembered to bring presents I had forgotten one other little detail...it was the Christmas party for the class and I was supposed to bring juice boxes. 

While I was standing there quietly berating myself for signing up then walking away from that clipboard and immediately forgetting, another mom walked up with what could only be described as a cucumber Christmas tree. It was a Pinterest wonderland on a plate. Sliced cucumbers piled perfectly into a triangle, replete with a tomato garland. It just screamed "I took time with this, I planned, perused Pinterest, went to the store, got up early or stayed up late to make this very special little something for my kid and his friends." (Let me pause here to say that if you are a "cucumber mom" - I admire you, please keep it up. I love how you show your love for your kids. We all have our strengths, cucumber trees and crafting in general is not mine)

Forgetting juice boxes isn't that big of a deal of course. The teachers were sweet, they let me off of the hook and made me feel like they understood. But I think the whole moment served as a cruel metaphor in the mom-shame department. It was a moment of inadequacy and it hit at the precise moment when my heart was ready for a good scolding from the "here is everything that is wrong with you" coach in my mind. 

There were a few more moments over the next couple of days... add a couple of frustrating interactions with people, lack of sleep due to sick children and a meeting that went a little sideways and by Friday I was a mess. I was so tired inside and out. The soul damaging condemnation of all of the ways I was not enough during this season had taken its toll. 

I was frustrated and snapping at my family, everything felt ultimate and magnified. I can always tell when I am in a bad state like that when I see my husband and he has stopped, wide eyed and staring at me with a puzzled expression "What happened? Who is this crazy lady tearing around my house? What do I need to do to find my happy wife and mother to our children?" 

He gently said while I was running around the house, remaking beds and getting dinner ready..."You know, they are not coming to see the house they are coming to see us"

I know. I know. I know. 

I hate it when I get like that. I know I am not serving anyone. I know that I am setting a pretty crazy tone. But it is like a bad roller coaster and I can't seem to get off. It just has to play out. Beds still have to be made, mouths need food in them, presents need to be wrapped, events need planning and attending. 

Then somehow, it all works out. 

We feed everyone, we stay up until the wee hours of the morning to wrap presents and build the beautiful toys that we have been scheming about since the summer. Christmas music plays, the children sing their cute songs from school and the boys sing jingle bells in their jumbled and adorable two year old way. 

The kids get tucked into their beds, and we sing our songs. 

"What child is this who laid to rest on Mary's lap is sleeping"

"The first Noel the angels did say, was to certain poor shepherds in fields where they lay"

"Silent Night, Holy Night, all is calm, all is bright"

There in the quietness of our bedtime routine, Christmas happens.

It happens as I look in their eyes as they sing about the Christ child coming to save us from our sins. 

It happens when Alina sings "Silent night, Holy night, God is calm, God is bright" 

It happens when I read them story of the manger, the sheep, the mess, the kings and the star. 

It happens when I tell them that Jesus loved us so much that He gave us four miracles and then they list them in order...

Miracle #1 - Emma

Miracle #2 - Alina - our Christmas baby

Miracle #3 - Isaac

Miracle #4 - Samuel 

They know the story. Mommy and Daddy loved each other very much and they wanted children to share their lives with them, but they couldn't have children until Jesus did a miracle and gave them the answer to their prayers with four beautiful, loud, funny, captivating children. 

Christmas happens when I watch their daddy stay up until 2 AM finishing their dollhouse and train table just to make sure it is all just right when they wake up in the morning. 

It happened when I stood in the girls play room yesterday with grateful tears running down my face because I realized that for the first time in my selfish life I actually didn't care about gifts or anything material because I have a richer life than I could have possibly dreamed of. I was happy, grateful and reformed from my stressed out self. 

It is happening right now, as I sit here drinking my cold coffee in a quiet house with a content family. 

I am at rest. The events of last week are a blur and I really don't care anymore about the deadlines or the details. 

Next year will probably be the same. I can't imagine things slowing down before the holidays. There will still be concerts, company, big dinners and stress. I will need to pull back, remember that no one actually cares whether I am good at cucumber trees or not. What they will care about is whether they have a happy wife/mom/boss/friend/sister/daughter or not. 

Just to drive this point home, my husband prophetically ordered this sign for me in October: 

So, this is Christmas. A time to stop, a time to reflect, a time to be grateful and slow down. A time to put down the phone, set the Ipad aside and listen. Listen when the kids giggle at each other and play with their new things for a whole fifteen minutes before war is declared. 

It is a time to remember how much I love my family. I will not complain about being busy. I feel like being busy raising a family is a privilege that I almost didn't get, so I certainly cant complain about the noise or the mess. What I really want to work on is sitting down in the middle of the mess and the noise and not trying to fix it. Just relish it, delight in it, soak it in. 

These are my own Christmas confessions. I hope that you had an easier ride through the holidays, but if you didn't, you are in good company. Let's back up, take it all in, gather a big breath and be grateful for these beautiful days. 

I pray that you would be filled with a thrill of hope, that your weary world would rejoice. Not just now, but all year. 

If this season has been a tough time for you, I pray that you would find hope, a light at the end of the tunnel, a tail wind that pushes you instead of a head wind that brings delay and frustration. I pray for joy to be your strength and peace your portion. 

Deep breath everyone. 2015 is waiting for us. 

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night. 

These Moments Are All For Me

Christmastime is here. The sun is out, the house is decorated and we have actually managed to keep decorations on the BOTTOM of the tree this year for the first time in awhile. Samuel is sitting next to me playing with his "treasure box", a music box with a Christmas scene on the top. Isaac is running circles around the house at full speed, when he passes me he says either "MOMMY! Me running!" or "Yeehaw!". Alina is at pre-school and Emma is out running errands with Shawn. This is a quiet moment in my world, so I am going to take advantage of it by writing for as long as I can before one of these little guys needs me to wind something, fix something or get something for them to eat or drink.

Boys are so different than girls. Samuel is working so hard to figure out how this music box works, so he will spin and spin, stop the wheel, wind it and start again. He even puts his chin in it to feel it spinning (good thing he doesn't have whiskers yet), and now he managed to get the winding key out of it - pause. ...and back again.

Alina turned 4 yesterday. We had our Christmas play at the church. Emma was an angel (what else?), Alina was a parrot, Isaac was a homemade sheep (courtesy of his dad's newfound glue gun skills), Samuel was the cutest little cow you have ever seen.

I kid you not, Samuel just came out of the play room wrapped in dental floss and proudly exclaiming "TA -DAA". He has unloaded an entire container of dental floss and turned it into a fashion statement. I had to follow him because he went in the bathroom and just as I suspected, was getting ready to unload another container for his floss suit. Well now, this is handy, they are flossing their teeth now as they pull each other around like puppies.

Why so calm you say? Because they are entertained entirely for at least five minutes and I promise to listen closely to make sure it doesn't make itself into a noose. Strangulation by dental floss, try explaining that to the doctor.  This is not unusual, this is my life.

I try to explain the funny things the kids do when I am with adults, but it is so hard to capture. Their faces, a perfect compilation of every family member, with wrinkles in their foreheads and funny little facial expressions. Like Isaac when he tilts his head down, furrows his brow and runs sideways through the house like a superhero. It isn't funny in the telling, but so funny when it is happening.

Or how do I sufficiently explain what Emma does at bedtime? The girls and I sing before they go to bed, and each of them get to pick the songs on alternating nights. Emma always chooses "Somewhere over the Rainbow" - she has great taste in music. So now she knows it well enough to sing along and the other night I had her sing it to me. I admit, I cried a little. Then we told her daddy to come in and listen and he cried a little too.

When they grow it is always met with a little bit of sadness and nostalgia for me. I miss their funny little phrases that get corrected by daily conversations. Alina used to say "Me need oars help", and then one day she just didn't say that anymore I don't even know when she stopped.

Isaac will push through a crowd by saying "Cuse me, coming phrew" - and Samuel, when asked why he is doing something he will say "mmmm...cuz um cuz um cuz". He used to say "What dat do" when he was asking what something was, and now he says it properly. Too bad.

Then they break into something new and I want to do cartwheels. Emma can recite 10 scripture verses with their location in the Bible from memory, and she is learning to read and write. I love the advancing, but I miss my babies.

I love the bits of independence we are all gaining. The boys don't need us to lift them out of their cribs anymore and that is very nice in the moment, but I miss those automatic snuggles that come when they are barely awake in the morning.

Pictures and video are great for helping me remember, but I can't smell their sweet skin or nuzzle their chubby little necks. For now, what I have are these moments when they do such funny things that I can't even put it into words. Those moments. Those moments are all for me.

The other things that are all for me are the piles of dental floss that has been accumulating all over the house while I wrote this, the hand prints on the front window that announces to anyone going by that this is a crazy house with lots of kids, and the dishes in the sink that we didn't have the energy to do last night. So deep breath, my nostalgia time is up.

Merry Christmas everyone. I pray that you have laughter until your sides hurt and at least one moment when everything is so beautiful that it takes your breath away.

kindergarten eve

If you are on social media you have seen many posts of happy kids in new clothes and fresh faces gathering together for a little picture on the porch before they march off to the hallowed halls of education.

I don't get tired of it. I love the pride that beams through moms and dads as they mark the passing of another year.

I would however,  love to see a picture of the mom and dad. I wonder if they look like me. Excited, a little anxious, over protective, curious, emotional....

So many memories flood over us. Where did the time go? Heart pangs. I gather my courage and wave goodbye, trying not to think of what some mother told me, "you wave good bye at kindergarten, you blink and they are graduating."

I am super duper not ready to hear that.

It is definitely time for Emma to be in school. I think she is bored with all of us. She is anxious to learn, make new friends, gain her own independence. But then, that little stumble of insecurity, a little too much distance and she is my baby all over again.

Today was a bit of slow start, fun games, get to know you kind of stuff. I was there, all of the parents were there.  When we were talking about it last night she leaned into me with her sweet little pyjamas, her freshly washed hair and said "but you will be with me right? in case I need you?"

"Yup, I will be right there in case you need me" for now, my darling, for now.

But you will grow and you will find your feet and I will simultaneously rejoice and weep. I want you to be fierce little girl. I want you to know that you can conquer the world. You have it all. I want you to take risks, be brave, think new thoughts and change the world. Be a great friend, and notice everyone. Especially the ones on their own, searching for a friend.

I want to see your pictures moms and dads. Do you look like me? Smiling with tears running down your face? Of course I am happy for my own independence, I get a little bit of "my life", "my time" back. There is a lot to love about that, but I will never have a one, two, three, four year old Emma again. That book is closed.

My mom died 9 years ago. My life changed so dramatically in that season. I was always a "seize the day" kind of a girl but after that, I became a "take today by the throat and extract the essence out of it until the sun goes down" kind of a girl.

When people say "where did the time go?" I totally understand and agree that it passed quickly, but I can tell you exactly where the time went. It went into parks and slides and sunny days spent outside in the backyard splashing in various sizes of kiddie pools. It went into play dates with friends while we held each others babies and marvelled at their early signs of genius. The time was swallowed up with sleepless nights, doctors appointments, date days with mommy or daddy. Or the days were spent snuggling on the couch on a rainy day watching more than the recommended amount of Backyardigans, or BusyTown Mysteries.

 We have played and crafted, visited every park in our fair city and all of the surrounding areas and we have loved every minute of it (except when we didn't, but let's not focus on that)

So, while I am swallowed in nostalgia, I am not buried in regret. These have been beautiful days, but there are beautiful days yet to come and I turn my face toward them with all of the courage I can muster.

My two favourite jobs on this planet are being the wife of Shawn Harvey, and being the mom to Emma, Alina, Isaac, and Samuel Harvey. I will not spend a moment worrying that I didn't get enough out of the days behind, but I will sit and scroll through my photos and videos from the past five years with grateful tears streaming down my face.

I welcome you kindergarten and all that you represent. Bring it on.

To age with grace

I see it happening, and sometimes I feel powerless to stop it. I remember watching older people when I was young, I remember thinking "why do they seem sad, angry, irritated?". I was unbridled in my  optimism when I was young.  I am still an optimist.  I still ruffle when someone says "I am not an optimist, I am a realist".  This has always sounded like permission to be negative. But I get it, I do.

I want to say at the beginning that this post may seem a little sad, but I am not sad just contemplative.

Right now, I am in a great season. Everything I have ever asked for, I have been given. I have a great, intentional, relationship with my husband. I have four beautiful children, a gift beyond words after many years of waiting. We have a home big enough to accommodate all of us, and food on our table. I have nothing, really nothing to complain about.

And yet, I see sometimes that my sails don't fill as full as they used to. I find myself fighting to keep my thoughts in the positive column. I have wondered lately just how to get this ship of a heart into a safe harbour for healing. It is hard in a way to even admit that I need repair. Externally, I certainly have nothing to complain about. It is my heart that betrays me and keeps me spinning inside.

Life hits hard sometimes doesn't it? Grief that comes from death, loss of those you couldn't imagine living without. Grief of lost relationships you thought would last a lifetime. Betrayal from those who swore their loyalty and trust. Disappointment from unmet expectations. Rejection, actual or perceived. Misunderstanding from well meaning people who just bump up against the sensitive parts of our soul.

It is so easy to stay in survival mode, get to the next season, press through and hold it all together. I think this is the part I am good at. I can weather storms with determination and courage. I have done it, I will do it again. It is the aftermath, when by all appearances everything is better, my heart says "Rest now. Listen to me. Protect me". This is the part I am not as good at. My instinct is to power through, dismiss and talk myself out of any quietness. I can even find good reasons, Biblical reasons to ignore myself, take care of others and press through.

Here is the rub: The issues I stuff down deep spill out at their own discretion. I get irritated at inconvenience (and trust me, with four little people running around me all day my stuffed issues find lots of opportunities to find the light of day). I snap and fume over silly things. Then I feel guilty because I hate the tone I am setting in my house. I berate myself for being negative when really, why should I? My life is great.

But unresolved.

So, I see it. I see so clearly how it happens. We get older, we stuff more. We leave more and more complicated issues unresolved and those issues fly out on the freeway to unsuspecting strangers who cut us off. It spills out when we deliberately cut other people off in line ups because we cannot control our children, but we can make sure this stranger knows that they WILL treat me the way I feel I should be treated. Our world gets smaller and smaller. Our friend group gets smaller if there is one at all. It is risky to have people in our lives. They could hurt us, they could disappoint us. But we are so made for relationships that we can't help ourselves, we keep reaching, calling and opening up because we truly need each other.

When I was younger and my whole life was spreading out in front of me, I had so many ambitions. Ambition is not bad of course. I actually encourage it. It is important, vital I think, to reach for something bigger than any person could ever accomplish. Now, I think I would also tell my young, ambitious self if I would listen, that dreams are so important, goals are so important, destiny and reaching for it is one of the best things in life. I would also tell myself that life itself will try to rob you of every one of those dreams and work overtime to make sure that when you get there you won't enjoy them because your heart will be worn out. Life will try to take life.

But we must not let it. We must not. We need to keep our hearts resolved and clear. We must continue to risk and to reach. We need to give of ourselves and expect nothing in return. We need to reconcile when we can, forgive always, wage war until we find true joy again. Focus on what matters most, let go of the rest and most importantly, we must fight to keep our world from shrinking.

My husband and I are directors for a mentoring program at our church. One of the questions we ask the students at the beginning of their year is "what do you look like free?" I would ask myself a similar question - "What do you look like the day you will die?" This is what I want to be:

I want to be large hearted. I want to be generous, kind, thoughtful. I want people to know that when they are with me that they are truly cared about and loved. I want to be surrounded by those whom I love the most, knowing that we have fought the onslaught of sadness and negativity and stabbed our faith right through the heart of it. I want to raise giants, my own children and anyone whom I have the privilege of leading. I want them to know how to run their race like those who know that there is a prize for those who overcome. I want my house to be filled with laughter, not just the kids, but MINE. I want to be known for walking in peace. Most of all I want my faith in Jesus to truly represent itself in my life in a way that He would be pleased with me.

I am grateful for summers, for a time to rest. I find that these times can be a little challenging as well.  Kind of like a big garage full of stuff that needs to be organized and de-cluttered. My heart and soul need to declutter from the past nine months (or more). I am believing that I will be stronger and more hopeful in September for the time I am spending purging this stuff now.

I pray that your heart and your own unresolved issues find the light of day this summer and that you will be able to find time to tie up loose ends, find peace and joy for the days to come.

I am back - I will be resuming my blog here at blogspot

In case you are following, I decided to move back here to blogspot. The other website wasn't working out for me. If you are reading this, thanks for sticking by me.

Beautiful Inconvenience

I am sitting in a clean house.

Well, I am sitting in a clean upstairs of the house. I am  ignoring the 6 loads of laundry and dirty bathroom calling my name downstairs. So, I am sitting in a mostly clean house thanks to my in-laws who took the two girls on a little trip to Northern BC for the weekend. The boys, the second half of the mess machine have been outside with their dad all morning so I could clean. Then Dad snuck them into the basement to put them down for their naps, so my upstairs may be clean for another two glorious hours. I laugh at myself to think howhappy I am for these two hours of cleanliness and order. 

You think I am crazy? Me too. Who cares if the house is clean? Memories are being made. True, true, yes, this is true. Some of those memories are super fun and cute, some of them include children eating garbage, me walking around with something unmentionable stuck between my toes, and carpets that we paid good money for becoming the victim of a little game we call "mash our food into the floor". We are rich with memories around here.

My good friend just had a baby boy. I got to go and visit them at her house the other day. I walked in to see baby sleeping sweetly on mommy's lap. My friend, a third time mom looked up and smiled the smile of a new mommy. "I don't remember this hurting so much" she said looking down at her new little treasure, "I am an emotional mess" she continued "I forgot this part, I just remembered the smell of a newborn and the amazing feeling of a new baby nuzzling into my neck". I smiled at her and thought, "I feel that way about every stage of parenting".

I look back and remember those sweet first smiles, and kisses. I remember the first times the kids held my hand because they wanted to. First words, first bites (of food and of the other children), first times they said "I looooovfe you mahhhhmmy". My goodness it has been incredible. I look back at pictures and videos and think "That was amazing, these kids are growing so fast.

Then I zoom back to now. These days are endless sometimes. I just get started on one thing and I need to go referee a war that has broken out over a toy that nobody wanted 5 seconds ago, now they ALL want it. Someone needs a diaper change, all day these little creatures need to eat and stay hydrated. We get dressed, we spill, we change, more laundry. I get the kitchen clean and turn around 10 minutes later and the sink is full of colourful plates, cups, and bowls again. We have a brand new dining room table that is already covered with fork dents. We painted all of the walls recently, which is a big job for two busy parents, now these freshly painted walls are also freshly decorated with sticky handprints.

When we go out, grandmas and grandpas smile at us, watch us while we interact with our children and sometimes even make their way over to talk to us. "I miss my babies" some will say. "It goes so fast", "Enjoy it while you have it, before you know it, it will be over"

I usually smile and agree. I don't think I really understood what they were saying when it first started happening. These days feel so long, and sometimes they would catch me in a crazy moment when a toddler was having a full scale meltdown over not getting new nail polish. That moment doesn't go by so fast.  But when I look back, I think I may be beginning to understand why they say it. 

Emma, our first baby, will be five next month. Her kindergarten uniform is hanging in the closet, she starts in September. I can't see her baby face or her chubby knees anymore. She has grown into her long legs and beautiful little girl face now. I have to watch videos to remember her funny, scratchy voice and her sweet baby giggle. 

Alina, my 3.5 year old says things like "I in a sticky situation" as she hides under a laundry basket,  and is known to run through the house at random times saying "SUPER ALINA! I am off to save the world!" and you know? I think she just might.

Before they left on their trip, I told them that I would miss them and they hugged me tight and said "We will be ok mommy, don't miss us too much". And while I confess the slower pace is nice, I miss their little voices around here.

Our boys are two now. They talk to us in beautiful, choppy sentences, with mixed up words. When they learn to speak clearly I will be forevermore unemployed in the "translate what in the world my child is saying" department. 

I will never have newborns again. I will never feel what my friend is feeling right now with her new little man on her lap. I miss it already. I see now that no one will ever love me or want me as much as these four little people love and want me right now. 

Even still, these days are undeniably hard. My life is not my own. I don't decide how long I sleep, where I go or how long it will take for me to get there. Nevermind that it takes us an hour to go anywhere.  My house is LOUD ALL THE TIME. The kids have little ride-on cars that they use like Nascar racers so I have bruises on my heels from getting rammed into at full speed. I have never needed so much patience and willingness to set aside what I want and need for the sake of someone else as much as I do now. 

I wouldn't trade it for the world.

The days are crazy and frustrating sometimes, but the hard is swallowed up in the beauty of the responsibility of knowing it is mine to shape these incredible little souls. I love to hear them thank a stranger without being prompted, to watch them play and navigate conflict with their little friends, or to spontaneously hug one of their siblings (even if it ends in a stranglehold). To me, it is one of the most precious sights I will see this side of heaven.

Remind us, dear friends, whose children are grown. These days seem long, but they fly. Remind us how important they are. We need you.

Ok, reflection time done. I have laundry to do. Thanks for stopping by.  

Keri Harvey's guide to surviving these crazy days

I don't usually give out advice on being a mom. I don't ever really feel like a sage parent with wisdom flowing through my veins...yeah. I never feel like that. It makes me a bit uncomfortable to even wade into it, because we moms are not fierce about anything the way we are fierce about our children. Naturally, we all have strong opinions about how to raise our kids. I like to have any conversations like that in person.

What I do want to talk about is how to take care of of our mom hearts. This, I feel a little more qualified to do. I have been in the heart - tending business for my entire adult life.

With this in mind I want to spend a few minutes talking about the things that help me as I live this wonderful but exasperating journey with 4 children under the age of 4. They are, in fact all within 2.5 years of each other.

This is crazy making material. I can honestly say, I have been looking in the mirror lately and wondering..."what happened to you?" More about that later.

Here is a convicting challenge:

Proverbs 4:23 

Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life. 

Yikes. Above all else?

Even more than making sure my husbands needs are met, my children are safe and my house is clean?

This is a challenge I do not succeed at on a regular basis, especially lately.

I want to share some of the simple things that I do that help my heart stay clear, and keep my mind focused on what matters most. Before I do that, I want to explain why this is on my mind today.

I will warn you that I am going to be very honest, not to gain sympathy or even words of encouragement, but to the end that it might help someone else know that they are not alone, and that we can all do this together.

Last night, when Shawn and I were going to bed, I confessed to him some very hurtful things that were going through my mind lately. These thoughts, so cruel, so demeaning, that they were threatening my selfhood, my dignity, even my future success.

I told him that I feel ugly. I told him that I wonder sometimes if the kids will be embarrassed of me when they get older because I am an "old mom". I have been wondering if I am hindering future opportunities that could come my way because I am having a hard time getting  handle on diet and exercise as part of my daily regimen. I hate to even confess this, but I have wondered if Shawn is embarrassed of me because of these two things.

It all started when I posted a picture on Facebook. I love the message of this picture: my four beautiful children surrounding me in the morning. I said "I wish I could show my infertile, 5 years ago self, this picture" that this would be a reminder not to worry about anything.

Such a great sentiment...the problem? I have a huge double chin, and a muffin top. Every time I looked at the picture, that was all I could see.

I told Shawn this, embarrassed, since I really do know better than to dwell on this garbage and I know how to take thoughts captive. I knew better, but I think I was too tired to fight, so I just let those thoughts run rampant in my sleep deprived mind. I watched as he winced and sighed with the compassion of one who sees me so differently. By his presence, he reminded me that I can't earn these titles: Mom, wife, speaker, leader. These titles are given by situation and maintained by my love for God and those that fall within the realm of this influence.

All of this is to say, I haven't been guarding my heart. Robbers have come and ransacked my confidence, stolen my joy, and brought back my old enemy insecurity.

And I let it happen.

In the busy-ness of running after the kids and keeping my home, I have not been guarding my heart.

There is clutter, and garbage all over the place. The truth is, those liars need to go.

How?

First I needed to ask for help through confession. It was so good to tell Shawn what was going on inside my brain. It was hard to say it out loud, embarrassing even. I told him so he can pray, and hold up a mirror of truth to me. Yes, we could work to put more emphasis on nutrition and exercise, but this does not make me a failure as a wife and a mom. In short, he was able to clear the cobwebs out of my brain and kindly remind me what is most important. Had I not confessed, I may not have been able to get my brain free from its cluttered self.

It was important to empty out the bad stuff, but just as important I need to work on keeping my heard protected, so let's talk about that.

Like I said at the beginning, I am not really big on calling this advice, so let's call these lifelines.

These are my lifelines that help me get through my days,  the guards that I have put into place that will keep the clutter out of my heart. Yours may be different, but if you haven't already, I would encourage you to think about how you can guard your own heart.

Filling vs. Draining my tank - This thought came to us from a book called "Leading on Empty" by Wayne Cordeiro. The concept is pretty simple: figure out what fills your tank (energy and driving force that keeps you going forward with joy and enthusiasm) and what drains your tank.

I have to say this has been a bit of a challenge for me to figure out, especially in this season. Many of the things that fill my tank involve alone time (did I mention that I have four small children?), or spending money on things like shopping, coffee, pampering (did I mention that I have four small children?). It is simply not possible for me to go and get a pedicure when I know my children need new shoes.  That is just not going to happen.

So, I needed to find new things that fill my tank. Here are a couple of them in no particular order:

Instant Coffee - ie: Keurig. Kind of kidding here, but we got one of these for Christmas and I sure love it! Before, I could spend an hour trying to get other things done just so I could make a pot of coffee in a clean sink. Now, I can have coffee first, no matter what the kitchen looks like. Life is just better with a cup of coffee in hand.

Podcasts - I find that I really don't get a lot of good, quiet prayer time in. I admire those of you who do, I just haven't found a rhythm with that. If I podcast messages from people like Brian Houston from Hillsong, or Focus on the Family parenting segments, I get my mind on higher things. I get to think about bigger concepts than diapers and dinner. I do this while I am getting ready in the morning. It takes me about 20 minutes, and I listen while I am fixing my hair etc... I really can't explain how much this has meant to me over the last year.

A clean house - Ok, don't roll your eyes at me. I don't have any critical thoughts if someone is a little looser on cleaning, or doesn't really even care about it. I don't clean to impress others, I clean because I really like it when I can have a clean house. I am not a great organizer, I just like a clean floor, fresh sheets and a shiny bathtub. The whole house isn't clean very often, so when it is, for the two nano-seconds before the children tear through it, I just love it. Knowing this, Shawn has started taking the kids for a couple of hours on our day off so I can clean the whole house, by myself, in silence. Seriously...total bliss for me. If I can sit for a few minutes in a quiet, clean house and read before they get home it is a total jackpot day for me.

Drives to no where in particular - Sometimes, on crazy days, when dinner is over and all that is left is bath time and winding down to bedtime, I will go out and wander around Target for 30 minutes or drive up to the mountains. Just quiet, empty brain time helps so much. Then I come home and help get the kids to be with my good mom brain on instead of crazy mom brain.

Time with my husband - Life is just better when we remember that we were a team before we became the brute squad.

The Mom community -  I was dropping Emma off at pre-school the other morning, and as I was walking back to the car, I made eye contact with two of my other mom friends. We all sighed at each other and told how our mornings were. Emma and I had a battle over combing her hair (I admit in my weaker moments I threaten to shave her head). I barely touch her head and she starts screaming, running away from me, asking for Alina to come and hold her back (this one is strange to me - but an indicator that Emma believes that her happiness is dependent on everyone else rallying around to support her). I was discouraged, mad at myself for my own impatience, and frustrated with the demands of my 4 year old. Would you believe that the other two moms had the EXACT same issue that morning. Misery loves company I guess, because I felt so encouraged that I wasn't alone in this crazy little issue.

I could seriously go on and on about the times when I really needed a word of encouragement, or some kind of hope that it is going to be all right, and another mom shows up in a simple way at just the right time. They probably don't even know they are doing it most of the time. But I sure appreciate watching how other moms handle things, how they love their kids, and how they navigate tough situations.

I told one of my mom friends that Tuesdays are hard days for me and do you know what she did? She showed up the next Tuesday with "Treats for tough Tuesdays". Her kids actually made cookies for us, and she brought soup and buns. I could have wept. Such kindness on a hard day.

Laughing - I mean like, deep belly, snorting, wetting my pants kind of laughing. I need to find ways to laugh a little every day.

As for the things that drain:

Turn all of those things on their head, add a few crazy days when the kids are out of control, and then throw a picture of me on Facebook that makes me feel old and huge and well... you get the idea.

Today, my tank is full. It was a snow day, I got time with the family and my husband this weekend, Shawn ran errands with the girls while the boys were napping, so my house is kind of clean (I can actually see the kitchen sink, and my feet aren't sticking to the floors), I listened to some great teachings, and I slept pretty well last night.

Most of all I admitted my struggles to my husband and I prayed. My brain is clear for the first time in awhile.

My chin is still doubled, my tummy is still muffin topped, my oldest still freaked out when I brushed her hair, but I was a little more ready for it because I reinforced the guards around my heart.

Guarding my heart determined the course of my day, and each guarded day determines the course of my life.

Ok, back to reality, my family needs some dinner.

Grace to all who read this and are running hectic, busy families. May your tank be full, may your coffee flow in abundance, and may none of your children wake up in any state of sickness that includes vomit. Amen.

Valentines Day, romance and clogged tubs...

My friends, the Shinness' have two daughters and two sons. When the daughters became old enough to think about getting married (so, let's say like, two and half) they started saying with sweet pining "I want to marry someone just like daddy when I grow up", to which their witty mother said "Oh girls, daddy wasn't daddy when I married him".

Funny. And true.

It makes me laugh and it makes me think.

Valentines Day is coming which seems to stir up a lot of emotion and energy about romance and all things "happily ever after".  I loved Valentines Day when I was a kid, but as I got older and it started to become more the "singles awareness day" holiday, it quickly became a day to dread, especially after I hit 30 and was still waiting for Mr. Wonderful.

So, in honour of my single friends (or married if you are interested), I have some thoughts about romance and finding the right one. I got married when I was 33, so I might have had a few hours to think about this topic. This may lean a bit heavy toward a woman's heart, since I am one of those.

1. I don't really believe there is ONE right one, until you marry them and then they are the right one, even if it feels like the wrong one. Post-altar is the wrong time to decide whether or not you made a mistake. God didn't give us free-will to take it away when it comes to this crucial decision. What if your ONE didn't think you were the ONE? What if the ONE, went and married someone else? This is all very confusing. My main point is here: don't go to every event thinking "Maybe I will meet the ONE". You may have met already, and you just don't see each other in that way yet. Or maybe it is not time yet. Either way, you could end up missing a lot of great memories looking for something that isn't there.

2. One thing I could never understand was when people would say "as soon as you are not looking, he will appear" or "as soon as you really surrender this issue, he will come".  Oh man! The hours I spent squeezing my eyes till I thought they would bleed trying to convince myself I didn't want to get married... what a waste of time.  OF COURSE I WANT TO GET MARRIED! Most of the promises for a woman's heart are tied up in relationship.  In my world marriage is important in the steps to a family. I wanted a husband to run through life with, and children to give my life to. What part of this should I deny? I think a more helpful statement (which could be what they meant) is to say: "As with everything in the kingdom, there is timing. Our timing vs. God's timing. Anything worth having is worth waiting for. In the meantime, become the best lover of God and his people that you can be. Be content, pour your heart out to the Lord and give your heart and your timeline to Him. Build His kingdom and He will build yours".

3. I think most people look for a formula that will assure them the most painless way possible to the altar.  This makes sense to me. Who wants to get hurt? Who wants to invest any time, energy and emotion into something that isn't going to work in the end? No one. This is where it gets hard. Sometimes relationships start and go like gangbusters and end up following a pattern that can seem desirable, even predictable. Let's say a couple starts dating in the summer, they get engaged by spring and they are married the following summer. There may be a few rough patches along the way, but overall it goes smoothly and they look as happy as any two people can be. This looks great! So, when another relationship starts, and it doesn't go that way, it can look wrong or maybe somehow the plan didn't work. Or, let's say, two very honourable people start a relationship and for whatever reason, it doesn't work out. It hurts, tears will fall, hearts will break, but This is not failure. It is painful yes, but in time, both parties will probably come to realize that they both need to be with someone who is CRAZY about them. When a heart is hurting, this is not the time to tell them that. But ended relationships can very well be an opening for a successful and beautiful relationship in the future.

This may seem too obvious to say... but not every relationship goes to marriage. Not fun, but better to know before you get into it.

4. When you are looking for a spouse, what you need is a foundation of respect. Cute is great, beautiful...sure. Chemistry plays a part and friendship is important. Nothing replaces respect. Nothing. The best foundation for any relationship is respect. Looks come and go. Nice cars, abilities that make the heart swoon (like singing or being an eloquent speaker, wealth, etc...) are a bonus. But NOTHING compares with respecting the person you are sharing your life with. If you see flaws in character:  dishonesty, a hot temper, wandering eyes, rude behaviour,  loose with private information, or a lack of common sense, I would say slow down, maybe even back out. Those things don't just go away. They can change in time, but if a relationship proceeds with the knowledge that these things exist, there is not any real incentive to change is there?

5. Work on you. Instead of focusing on what you can't have, think about what you can do. Get healthy, learn how to budget, volunteer, learn how to govern your emotions, grow deep in your faith, build meaningful, lifelong friends, find a deep belly laugh. I truly think the wrong thing to do is to sit on your proverbial thumbs, looking pretty, waiting for someone to ask you to dance. I suppose this one is typically for the girls, but let me echo Audrey Hepburn who said "Happy girls are the prettiest". Happy people make great marriage partners. People with purpose tend to be happy, you see the pattern here.

6. You will never hear me talking poorly about my husband. I think it is a wise choice.  However, it kind of gives the impression that things are never hard. Maybe it looks like we just dance on daisies and never have to figure out why the garbage isn't being taken out. This one is challenging. If a girl in a new relationship expects her boyfriend to treat them the way that Shawn treats me now, it will probably not turn out well. Shawn wouldn't have even passed that test. When we were dating, it was all so new for both of us. It was awkward and sloppy and did I mention...awkward?

I was fearful on the best of days, terrified of rejection and so insecure. He was learning to carry my heart and he admitted many times feeling clumsy in it. We did argue, we had to figure each other out. We had long conversations looking for clarity and insight into each others souls. But we respected each other, we saw each other. We saw the potential in each other and as each month unfolded our respect grew. This was the soil that our relationship flourished in. I am happy to say that we have only grown in that since then.

Having said all of that, I want to say that marriage was the venue that Shawn found his strength. He has changed so much as he has carried the burden of being a husband and a father. To expect that any young man who has not deeply known a woman within the marriage commitment and then had a chance to be a father, could keep up with that is totally unrealistic. We have survived challenges from within and from without: getting to know each other under the shadow of my mom having cancer, infertility, four kids in 2.5 years...shall I go on? This changes us. Women handle things differently than men. I heard a quote recently that went something like this: "A woman simply is, but a man must become" (Stephen Mansfields - Book of Manly Men pg. 34).

Married men and fathers have become something amazing. These men know how to lean in when their woman is hurting, they know how to pick up the slack when she just can't, they work all day and still come home to play on the floor with the kids until dinnertime, they know their family and they know how to save the day, one day at a time. Those single guys around you have all of that inside of them. In the right setting, with the right mixture of humility and courage, they have every chance to be like those other great men that you admire.

Romance is fun and giddy in a new relationship. Lots of fun butterflies and did I mention, awkward? In marriage, the romance gets better and deeper all the time, even if it doesn't come dressed up with roses and chocolates in hand.

So, courage dear hearts. Hang on to your hope - hang on to your heart and your convictions. One day you could be spending your Valentines Day like we did a couple of years ago...me, flat out on the couch, pregnant with twins, and Shawn downstairs in the basement suite cleaning a huge hair clog out of the renters tub. All that to say...Valentines Day is fun, but it is mostly a red and white, expensive holiday that you probably care about way more when you are single. Don't let it rip you up.

Redeemer

It feels a little embarrassing to admit that I sang "My Redeemer Lives" in all sorts of versions for years without even knowing what I was singing.

Redemption is one of those Christian words that can be a little hard to understand. To sing "My Redeemer lives" never quite makes sense, until He is your redeemer, redeeming you.  It seems like redemption is something that comes in layers, over time, like a beautiful romance in a deep and lasting relationship.

Let me explain what I mean...

I fell in love at Christmas once. It all seemed too perfect, great memories, marriage in the air, sweet promises being spoken. By February, all the momentum came to a heartbreaking halt. Past mistakes, secrets too deep for words, two broken hearts left to mend in their own ways, away from each other.  Christmas was just not the same for a few years. My heart just couldn't rally to enjoy it.

But then Shawn. Our story is long and fun to tell, but I will save it for another day. The important fact for this moment is that Shawn arrived (when else?) at Christmas. My Redeemer rushed in at the point of hurt and loss and turned a hard season into a beautiful season. Only He can do this.

My mom, Sandra Elaine Buchanan, passed away at the end of June, 9 years ago now. One year later, almost to the day, God gave us a new little life, Abigail Elaine, my sisters daughter. She is joy, she is clever, and she carries so much of the same heart that my mom had. Only a divine Redeemer can do something like that. So perfect, so intricate, so timely.

This is an excerpt from a blog entry in May of 2011:

"5 years ago tomorrow - 2 days before Mothers Day - 2 years into our infertility issues - our first adoption fell through. We were devastated. We hoped and prayed for this baby (a beautiful little boy), and for reasons that were beyond what we could see at the time, it just was not meant to be. We left that hospital so aware of our barrenness, so broken and desperate.

Tomorrow, May 11th, 5 years later we are having two little boys. The EXACT date of our heartbreak, God has redeemed and made new.

I used to dread Mother's Day. Well meaning people would make sure I got a rose that they give to moms at our church..."you are a spiritual mom". Don't get me wrong...that is no small thing, I cherish that title. But to have my own baby, to cuddle and raise and watch from infancy on - that is what I wanted. That is what we begged God for.

This year, I will be a new mom of 4. FOUR children! Not bad for a lady who thought she may never have one.

And He, in the way that only He can, has pulled out the stops for us. Emma will be 3 in August, Alina turned one in December, and these little men will join us tomorrow. 4 babies in less than 3 years." 

How does it happen? That I could be 6 weeks before my due date, I just happen to be able to keep myself from going into labor as I submitted to two weeks of bed rest, and I check into a hospital to have two baby boys come out of me ON THE EXACT DAY that one baby didn't come home with us.

I could say more, tell more stories of provision, perfect timing, and the way that God came through at just the right time. I could tell you the lessons that I have learned from the hardest seasons of my life. There are too many, but let me tell you those seasons have defined me, refined me and made me who I am today. Every hard thing is a gold mine waiting to give me treasure.

When Job, the famous sufferer said "I know that my Redeemer lives", I believe he meant it. He knew what it was to have his fortunes restored to him. I believe he knew what it was to have suffered the loss of all things only to find that he had gained more than he ever lost.

He does give beauty for ashes. In His time.

If all you see is ash, there is a Redeemer who can make it beautiful.

To redeem means to exchange something for another something. I redeem a coupon to get a discount on something at the store. I turn in something technically worthless to receive something with worth.

Isn't this what happens?

I give my pain, my disappointment, discouragement and grief and in turn I get healing, hope and incredible memories to replace the old ones that brought me all that pain over all those years.

Incredible.
Beautiful.
Miraculous.

I am humbled, and repentant because I didn't trust well sometimes. Most of all I am so grateful. So, so grateful.

Now, I know what I mean when I say "I know that my Redeemer lives".

I am telling myself and anyone who will listen:

"Your grief is not the end, your pain is not the end, your heartache is not the end. Hold on! He is going to make this beautiful. He is going to make it better than you could ever possibly imagine.  He is running to exchange this very hard thing and turn it into something beautiful."

This is not just a nice thought, this is my life.

I have a Redeemer, and I know He lives. He lives in all of the ashes that He has made beautiful for me. He lives in all of the lessons I have learned from the challenges I have faced. He lives in the giggles of my kids, and in the kindness of my husband.

I know. I know, I know. My Redeemer lives.