Four Cold Water Bottles

It's Friday morning. Lyla is at a friend's house. I'm supposed to be cleaning my house with these precious, quiet hours but instead I'm sitting here at my kitchen table watching the giant, dead bush separating our yard from our neighbors' get cut down. It was on their property and they wanted to take it out. I don't love change. And I didn't love that bush. But it gave us a certain amount of privacy that felt good. It separated us from them. So I am freaking out a little on the inside, but I can't help but notice how much brighter our backyard is now... 

I've got this song on repeat this morning. I can't believe I didn't know about it before. It's hitting me right in the soul as I watch this bush come down. My heart hurts for people in our city. There are drugs. There's domestic violence. There is poverty. There is pain. There is brokenness. And these are the people I see at the grocery store. These are the people Eric works with at the clinic. These are the families of the babies he's delivered. These are our neighbors and we feel deeply for them. But we also struggle with burnout. It can be frustrating and hard to serve. It gets draining. It often seems pointless and we don't always see positive change. 

We sometimes think we need to do a lot... That we need to help this person beat their addiction or get this baby into a safer home situation. We want the man on the street corner to be able to find work or the woman in a bad relationship to get out. We feel this huge burden for our neighbors and a deep desire to help but it can get overwhelming and paralyzing. 

Maybe it's actually easier to love people than we think... Maybe it starts with four cold water bottles for the guys cutting down the dead bush out back. Or letting someone go first in line at the grocery store. Maybe it's waving at the man around the corner who sits outside his house in his wheelchair watching his dogs. Or teaching the next generation how to love our neighbors and each and every person they see, regardless of our differences...

There is a lot of hurt in our world. There's a lot of hurt in this country. There is a lot of hurt in Muncie, Indiana. There's even a lot of hurt in our little neighborhood. But there's actually a lot we can do about it. We just need to open our eyes to the wounds and let a little light in. 

I'm still sitting here at my kitchen table, but now there are tears streaming down my face as I see the four guys sitting in the shade taking a breather with said water bottles. I'm praying that God keeps showing us simple ways we can love. We can't always fix the deep wounds... We often don't even know what they are... But we can offer rest. A moment of peace. A cool drink of water. 

The dead bush is gone. There's no longer a mess of branches and leaves and twigs to separate us from our neighbors. A barrier has literally been broken down. What. A. Gift. What a beautiful opportunity to get to know them... To share and to love. There's already more light out back and I have a feeling it's just going to get brighter. 

The Day After Yesterday...

Yesterday was crazy busy. Eric was getting off of a night shift, Lyla and I got ready for and went to church together, we had plans with friends for lunch and then hosted small group at our house in the afternoon. It was a lot of stuff in a short period of time, which I don't mind so much once in a while, but it was a lot for my poor two-year-old. I fell asleep last night feeling bad about some poor parenting and woke up feeling even worse. I've been thinking a lot about why it was so hard and, while I'm trying not to give in to mom-guilt, I'm hoping to learn a few things and make things better next time we have a busy day. 

It was a day full of new people and new things. Overwhelming. No nap. Exhausted. Meals all wonky. Hungry. Meltdowns that I tried to brush off as no big deal... Little girl clinging to me when I was trying to set out snacks for small group... A goat-bit finger and excessive dog licking that probably frightened her a good deal... All things that I responded poorly to. And why? Because I was embarrassed. Because I was fearful of being judged. 

This is probably a direct result of judging other parents too harshly. We all do it, and with social media, we've got even more targets and ammo at our fingertips. This parent is being too clingy or that parent is too hands-off.... There's no winning for anyone. That sweet-spot in parenting is impossible to hit all the time... That place where you won't be judged for being too hands-on and or too hands-off. Managing to strike the perfect balance so your kids won't need years of therapy to undo all that you did. We are so hard on each other as parents and it only serves to bring us down and take away from our kids. I get so caught up in trying to be the best parent so that no one can say anything bad about the way I do things... Making sure I don't give in to the fussing and whining... Not responding to owies too dramatically and not babying too much... Nurturing as much as possible while allowing for independence... I'm so scared of the opinions of others that I end up not thinking about things from her perspective. Sure, those parenting goals are important and useful, but by worrying about the opinions of others, I can miss perfect opportunities to comfort and calm and nurture and build her up. 

Yesterday was rough. And I worried that my poor parenting had done irreversible damage (dramatic, much?!?) But today was a fresh start... Another chance to do things right. So, that's what we did. We had a pj morning and did whatever Lyla wanted to do. We had a 'yes' day, inspired by another friend who recently shared that she did the same. Rather than saying a million 'no's and correcting every single little thing, I said 'yes' as much as I could, and I tried hard to let the little things go. My heart is full, and my girl has sweet new memories with her mama. Win win. 

So, what did our 'yes' morning look like??

This. 

Yes to writing/mailing letters and coloring outside. Yes to the annoying straw ice cream cup.

Yes to jumping in puddles. In PJs. Over. And over. And over. And yes to piggy-back rides running around the yard.. Dirt? Mud? Wet? Looking like a fool? Letting it go. 

Yes to "visit daddy at work". Still in PJs and mama not close to looking presentable? Letting it go.

Yes to blowing bubbles. "All by myself." 

Bubbles dumped on mama? Letting it go.

Yes to a lunch of "crackers and cheese", with Minnie, in a big-girl chair, while wearing fancy shoes. 

Yes to cuddling in mamas bed while watching Veggies after nap. Shorter-than-usual nap? Letting it go. 

Things are looking up, my friends. I might even be able to sleep better tonight than last... With fewer worries that one rough  parenting day had ruined my little one... This whole parenting gig is hard. And it's near impossible when we are consumed with self-doubt and fear of judgement. We are all just doing the best we can and, when those inevitable poor-parenting days do happen, we can rest assured that tomorrow is a new day... That there is grace to cover every oops or "I wish I had"... That everyone else is in the same boat. Here's a virtual high-five. Keep up the good work, people! 

Sarah

You're Growing Up

Lyla,

It's getting harder and harder to keep up with you. You are going places, girl. Your mind is working and your feet are running.. All. The. Time. You have your own thoughts and ideas and opinions and I have heard "No thanks mom" more times than I can count. You like to tell me "no", which we need to keep working on, but at least you're polite about it. 

This week we've been using lots of extra bandaids (Sorry to get you mid-bite there... I was just so proud of your good bandaiding-job!) It seems like lately you just keep getting all scraped up. Your fingers and toes, your knees and elbows... They have all seen better days. Now, whenever you need (or want) a bandaid, you have to put it on "all by myself". So, I give it to you, still in the wrapper, and you peel it away and stick it on, often somewhat successfully (although somehow you managed to get this one stuck in your hair...) 

It's another sign that you're growing up. Just like the light-up shoes we just had to buy you in a size 7... You're not a toddler anymore and you're definitely not a baby. You're a little kid. And I love it. I love all the new things we get to do together now that you're older. I love all of your new words and phrases and personality traits that are revealing themselves more and more each day. I love that you can play on the playground (mostly) on your own. I love that you can and want to help with all of the things all of the time. You are a lot of fun! But it is hard not to mourn the other side to you growing up... 

Adulthood... Big-people problems... Every few months, certain situations come up that cause your mama a good deal of stress. I start thinking, "But I'm just a kid. I shouldn't have to deal with this." And then I am reminded that I am your mama, officially in my late 20's and definitely not a kid anymore. There's this other side of growing up... The side that knows too much... The side that is increasingly tempted to fear and worry about the big things... Stuff that little ones are, appropriately, shielded from. As you grow and learn and can do more things, I'm mourning the sweet ignorance and innocence that part of me wishes you could hold onto forever... 

But I know that as you learn more about this world that you live in, you will want to help. You will want to do big things. Over the next 20 years, your eyes will be opened to the hurts and pains and injustices in the world and, I pray, your heart will be a little bit broken by it all. Because that is the only way to live... Eager to do your part to make things a little bit better.

So, sweet Lyla, keep growing and changing. Keep learning and exploring and wanting to do things "all by myself". Enjoy still being little and ignorant of most of the issues in this hurting world. And, for now, I'll be praying hard for that feeling-heart you inherited from your mama... That it will be tender enough to hurt for the pain of others and strong enough to do something about it. And that you will know that you do not have to carry these big-kid-burdens on your own. Your mama is still trying to learn this... God gave us feeling hearts for a reason and He will help us with the load that is too heavy to carry on our own. Keep spreading little bits of joy and love wherever you go. You may still be little, but you can do big things. You make your daddy and mama so very proud. 

All the nose-kisses,

Mama

Big Enough

"Everyone is big enough, big enough to do something."

This Daniel Tiger song has been sung over and over and over in our house lately. The first time we heard her sing it, we were working on painting the family room and kitchen. She came over to me and grabbed the end of the paintbrush I was using and, while painting the wall with me, sang "everyone is big enough, big enough to do something". And a little part of me freaked out because it was the first time I had seen her actually connect a lesson she learned in her show to a real-life situation. She's growing! Since then, she has wanted to help with everything she possibly can and often sings her little tune, almost as a way of cheering herself on. "Go Lyla!" "You can help!" "You're big enough!" 

She wants to help with the sweeping and mopping and dusting and hammering and yard work and cooking. The other day she and I made breakfast for Daddy and it was the best start to our day. Rather than telling her no or putting her in front of the TV so I could get things done myself, I included her. I said yes. I confirmed in her little head and heart that she was big enough. There are countless times we have to say no. Situations where we would be irresponsible to let her help... But there are numerous times that we can say yes. We just need to set aside our time-table and somewhat-obsessive tendencies. We have to let go of the fact that things might turn out a little different than if we were to do them ourselves. 

It's impossible not to see huge similarities between this whole parenting gig and my relationship with God. It is becoming more and more clear to me how God gently parents us and guides us as we grow and learn. This new "helping" stage with our girl is no exception... God doesn't NEED my help to take care of His world anymore than I NEED Lyla's help to take care of my house. He could certainly do it on His own... But he says "yes". He says "you're big enough to do something". He gives us the opportunity to be a part of caring for the people and the Earth that He created. And, sure, sometimes we goof up... We make a bigger mess than was there when we started... He might even think to Himself how much easier it would be to just fix things on His own. But instead He invites us to help... To use our gifts and passions to bless the world. What a gift to know that we are enough. That God can use even us messy toddlers to make the world better. 

So, next time Lyla asks to help and I am tempted to say no, I'll think twice and remember my God who, in His grace, says "yes" to me. I'll find an extra paintbrush or duster or wooden spoon and let her go for it. Because we are all big enough to help... Two-year-olds included.