Do I see and accept the open door?

In preparation for my life group next week I am looking at verses about intentionality and then how it plays out in my own life.  I am referring to intentionality in our relationship with God which in turn affects our intentionality with others, and for diversity and unity within the church and our community.

So if I am thinking about and practicing intentionality then I think I need to actively stay off facebook.  In the midst of all these tragedies it feels as though I am abandoning the issue, staying silent, and privileged because I can just “turn it off.”  i regularly think of the mothers of the black boys in my girls’ classes. They can turn off social media, turn off the news, but they are still black and so are their boys. What kind of fear do they have? What conversations are they having? Do they have hope?  So I want to stay engaged with this FOR them. I have a strong sense of security in the lives of my kids because they are white girls.  Tomorrow the moms of my girls’ friends could easily be burying their child.  

Of course we cant protect our kids from everything.  For quite some time I have been thankful that I have girls (although rape culture is also frightening) and that they are white. We have dodged a bullet, literally and figuratively, that my girls will not become a hashtag representing the latest death of a black boy/man.  Letting that sink in for just a brief second has brought me to tears...of relief and injustice.  And then we had a 2 and 4 year old, a brother and sister both black come into our home.  Taylor and I talked about if we needed to if we should foster, offer temporary custody, and even adoption. We also had a very sobering conversation about what it may be like raising a black boy.  We could help educate him, advocate for him, love him but that at the end of the day it wouldnt likely be enough.   There was a lot we would leave up to fate and injustice.  it did not take long for me to recognize I could protect the little girl more than her brother, and I could protect my girls even more than the sister.  

I miss those two little kids. (that is another topic for another day and also one that comes with guilt and doubt) Everyday I worry about them. I have lost a lot of sleep thinking and worrying about them. Just last night I was awoken from my sleep several times with fear and concern. I woke angry because people won’t acknowledge or can’t understand our system is broken, it is not just, and lives are being lost. Young lives.

So I post on facebook so the moms of my girls friends and the women who are not yet moms know I stand with them.  

However, facebook and other media outlets can be gross. To see one person want to seek death for another is tragic and horrifying. To see the vitirol used toward another person is sad and maddening.  It affects how I interact with my family and not always in a positive way.  It interferes with how I care for my kids.  When I see my behavior and demeanor change then I begin to rethink my time on facebook. But then simultaneously I have guilt that I can walk away.

Tonight, a little voice said “there is more than facebook for addressing these very big issues.  You have been asking for a way while you are knee deep in diapers, dishes, pooped stained clothes, and carpool.  Do you see it?”  I am co-leading/facilitating a life group at our church (with our two pastors, one black and one white) about how the Church can become diverse and unified.  Not diverse for the sake of being diverse. But diverse because that is how the Church began and how it should be (Acts 13:1).  God called all the believers to be one (John 17:20-23).  

While I taught I had a decent size platform, a room full of high school kids. With facebook my platform grew exponentially.  I prefer the classroom. It was a safer space.  I could challenge their ideas and misconceptions, not in a way that shut them down but that allowed for digging deeper and asking more questions. I could also better understand their perspective and how those ideas came to be.  It wasnt filled with hate or fear.  Well, I don’t have my classroom at Seoul Foreign, Dunham, or EBR Lab Academy. I have facebook and instagram.  But I am not sure that is my best avenue for addressing all of this,or even any of it.  I have six little girls, the life group at my church, and a MOPS group that I co-lead.  If I am honest, I am not content with only having my kids be my audience and within my sphere of influence.  I went to my pastor this summer hungry for a space  to do something to address this division in our community, especially in a season where I am mom to little ones.  

My challenge now is can I be OK with no big platform?  Will I waste these opportunities wishing for other circumstances or a different audience?  Can I be present and intentional so I see and hear what is God’s desire for my time, energy, and words and ultimately for His plan? Do I see what He has presented to me? Can I be obedient? Am I OK that my role is different from so many of my friends?  Can I accept that I am not in charge of the hearts of the masses?

Darkness, light, and motherhood

I co-lead a MOPS (moms of pre-schoolers) at my church,  the Baton Rouge Vineyard.  Last week was our first meeting and I spoke about darkness,  light, and motherhood. Here is what I shared.

I have been mulling over ideas about our first meeting and the idea of darkness, light, and motherhood since July.  I have story after story of darkness in my motherhood experience.  Then the flood came and my home remained dry.  I started second guessing if I was qualified to talk about darkness.  Several times I thought I would just pass the buck onto someone else.  However, I wasn’t able to follow through with that.  

So here I am...I am a mother to 6 girls ages 6, 5, 3, and 2 year old triplets.  That piece of information alone usually results in comments or conversations like:

*I shouldn’t complain to you

*I thought I had it hard

I am from Ohio, all my family lives 15-18 hours away.  My husband’s family is also hours away.  Again I hear:

*I shouldn’t complain

*I thought i had it hard

I have had traumatic births, peaceful ones, births at home and in a hospital.  I had babies that took to the breast like a fish takes to water and then I had babies that cried when I brought them close to my breast.  My kids goes days without seeing their dad because of his hours but then the next week he is at all their school functions in the middle of the day.  Chances are in this small glimpse of my motherhood you have 1) been able to identify with one or more of my experiences 2) had a reaction of “I shouldn’t complain, I couldn’t handle that” 3) thought that is nothing.  All we know are our own experiences and our own reality.  We all have our own “darkness” in motherhood.  We all have things in our lives that we struggle with that others wouldn’t bat an eye at and the same is true in reverse.  It is not about who has more darkness.  We all have darkness.  Don’t have guilt that your darkness is different.  Name it.  Call it out.  Even own it.

Maybe I am being a bit ambigious.  Here are some things that may be darkness in your motherhood

*inability to breastfeed

*traumatic birth

*a spouse who won’t help

*no spouse

*no home

*exhaustion

*quick temper

*endless hours on the TV

*you don’t play with your kids “enough”

*depression

*anger

*no friends

*sickness

*no attachment to your kids

*quick tongue

Whatever your darkness is name it.  If light never shines in a dark place it always stays dark.  Calling attention to something allows just the tiniest bit of light in.  The smallest bit of light can bring the smallest bit of hope, an out, some reprieve.  Sometimes all we need is a morsel to get out of bed or to take the next step.

So I have a little story to share, given the events of this summer it seems insignificant.  And the darkness didn’t remain too long.  Yet I have to remind myself all I know are my own experiences.

    When the triplets were just a few months old I had one of many countless breakdowns.  I left the house sobbing, I had no idea where I would go, what I would do, or when I would return home.  I just stormed out of the house, ignored my older kids’ pleas not to go and told my husband “I am leaving.”    The babies wouldn’t nurse, I didn’t want to pump, and I didn’t want to give them formula.  I was too exhausted to feed them.  I was mad that they wouldn’t do what I wanted.  I was mad I couldn’t do what I wanted.  I found myself in the parking lot of a bank crying and screaming.  Eventually I returned home because I realized I couldn’t not feed my babies.  I told my husband: “ I need to power pump.  That means I need 30-40 minutes with no interruptions.”  I found snacks, took several minutes to find a show I wanted to watch and I hooked those bad boys up to the pump.  I cried while I pumped.  I cursed.  I was mad.  No one bothered me.  I did it again the next day.  And I was alone then too.  Then I realized this thing I despised so much, but not enough to give up because I was probably crazy, could actually bring me a little reprieve… a few minutes alone, with snacks, and TV.  Pumping was like my darkness.  Eventually it became a mix of dark and light because I got a 20 minute break away from all 6 of my kids!  I still hated it most of the time.  But it offered a little break.

This darkness had an end.  But not all darknesses will.  Some will be harder to penetrate.  I am not talking about a quick or easy fix.  However I really do believe that if we are willing to name our darkness it allows us and God to slowly allow some light in.

What’s light?

*a piece of chocolate after a hard day

*glass of wine

*someone paying your bill

*your starbucks order paid for

*a 20 minute break away from the kids while you pump

*a friend who will listen

*quiet time

*a nap

*counseling session

*time to play life with your kid

*someone else doing the dishes

*a job

*remission

*being debt free

So, we all have darkness.  Don’t compare.  Name it.  Be willing to  bring and even allow a bit of light into your darkness.