As I lay in bed this morning, on my back (because it is still most comfortable for me, even in my pregnant state), I reached my hands up to my face (I don’t really know why…I was only barely awake) and when I did, I felt something in my back (neck?) crack. Not like the good, something-was-out-of-place-and-now-it’s-fixed kind of crack, but something that has left me with an incredibly stiff neck and the inability to move it without significant pain.

So, despite the necessity I felt that today needed to be productive, it hasn’t been.  I’m sitting, trying to find little things I can do without moving my back and neck at all, but honestly, it’s not working out so well.  For some reason – and maybe this is true for most people – pain significantly affects my brain functioning.  Writing a meal plan for next week took me somewhere around an hour to accomplish.  Trying to think of a reasonable schedule for these next several weeks of summer was less than successful.

I find, instead, the need for distraction.  I did successfully read a few chapters in Mere Christianity, and I did successfully watch a couple episodes of “Throwdown with Bobby Flay”.  Clearly, my successes for the day aren’t much of accomplishments.  I’ve had to remind myself that it’s okay – that God doesn’t love me more if my floors are vacuumed, and that it doesn’t mean I’m failing if my days don’t look like someone else’s.

Something in me grates against this reasoning, though.  It sounds too much like an excuse for laziness (something I definitely don’t need).  But I am trying to really figure out what God’s expectations of me are, and while I know there is value in hard work, discipline, and biting the bullet to do what needs doing no matter what, I’m finding that I first need to do so with the right heart.  I need to know that God’s grace is available and necessary whether I am weak and inadequate, or on top of everything that needs doing.  I need to know that my efforts can’t and won’t make me “worth” more or less in light of eternity.  I need to acknowledge that there are failings in me that are far more significant, and deserve and require much more attention than my housework motivation issues.  And I need to be able to see that I am fearfully and wonderfully made by the hand of a gracious God, who knew that the withholding of certain gifts and talents from me was just as much for my good as the bestowing of other gifts…and He has a purpose for the person He made me to be.

So, it’s fairly certain that my house won’t be clean at the end of the day, and my odds-and-ends “sitting” tasks may not have a significant dent in them, but I will still be redeemed, and accepted, and chosen, and loved by my Lord.  I need to know that.

There are some sin issues in life that I have a hard time owning up to.  I don’t know exactly why, but there is a certain pride in me that shows up when I have to face them.  The past few days, and in church this morning, I have been faced with some of those sins – jealousy, self-centeredness, selfishness, and covetousness.

It hurts a little to even write it, I think maybe because it pulls at the roots of something that is pretty firmly established in my heart.  These things have been there…well, for as long as I can remember.  And I’ve known about them, I’ve acknowledged them to myself….but that acknowledgement usually comes with a host of excuses, and a subsequent dismissal of them as being something I don’t need to deal with.  Brilliant, huh? The reality is that they are ugly, unacceptable sins that I need to not be okay with.

However, that’s much easier said than done, I’ve learned.  Because I’m not prone to these sins for no reason.  There is, in fact, one thing that always comes up along with each of these sinful attitudes.  It is probably the biggest struggle I have had in my Christian walk, and it is such a basic thing that I don’t know why it still throws me for a loop.  It is this: there is a significant part of me that just doesn’t believe God loves me.  So when I see someone else with good things (material, spiritual, relational, etc) and I just can’t see anything good in me or in my life, it makes me more convinced that I just don’t matter to God.

I’m sure that sounds ridiculous.  Knowing God loves you is, like, Christianity 101.  And though I have moments of really believing that He loves me, my heart becomes convinced far too easily of the lie that He doesn’t.  I don’t know why this is such a stronghold in my life.  And I don’t know how to really get past it.  I just know that, somehow, I need to figure it out.

On May 13, 2000, I got married…to a man I once thought I would never even consider who had somehow become my very best friend.  Always the idealist (not to be confused with optimist), I had little notion of the challenges that married life would hold.  Mostly, I have realized over and over again just how undeserving I am of the man I married.

Obviously, I’ve had moments when I’ve had to remind myself that I married a fallible, prone-to-some-weakness human being, but my “moments” are much more likely to be of the how-could-he-possibly-love-me-still-after-seeing-me-like-that?!?!? variety.  Moments I never really thought possible, because I was completely ignorant to the selfishness and sin that resided (and still reside) in my heart.  Marriage has held a mirror up to the worst parts of me and driven me to the cross and brought me to a deeper understanding of grace than I think I could have ever had on my own.

And I’ve said it before, but I am constantly amazed at the love my husband shows me…enduring, forgiving, gracious, patient, extravagant love.  God has used him as a tangible example to me of Christ’s love for the church…of sacrificial love, of laying down one’s life for another.  I can’t adequately express what my husband means to me, how much I love him, or how humbled I am to this day that he sees something in me worth loving.  He is the best.  And I am so thankful for him.

Let me start off by saying that I’m not really a “natural” at the homeschooling thing.  It is tough for me.  I’ve never loved learning (gasp!)…at least not in the ways I was mostly taught (public school, college, forced learning about other things that I just truly needed to know about but had no good resources for information).  I HATE school projects / activities of almost any kind.  I have a really hard time seeing the “educational” value in something if there isn’t actual, tangible value also there.  So, most projects for children are nothing short of really annoying for me.  Add to all that the fact that I am incredibly lazy, and indecisive, and analytical, and lacking in self-confidence…and you have someone who is just not “cut-out” for homeschooling.

Thankfully, I have really bright kids (totally not bragging here, they just really are), so I skate by with minimal effort.  Seriously.  Like, Caedmon taught himself math this year, and I only know that to be true because I occasionally correct a big pile of worksheets he’s finished and realize, “wow, he actually understands this stuff”.  And Bethany has a fantastic memory (when she is paying enough attention to actually hear what’s being said).  I am extremely grateful for God’s mercy in my weaknesses in this particular area of life.

Even so, when this time of year comes around (aka – curriculum decision time), I panic a little bit.  I have spent many hours researching options for the next school year, and you know what I have figured out?  That I am pretty clueless as to what I want to do.  It’s not even that I just have a couple great options that I hate to have to narrow down – it’s that I can’t even decide what approach I want to take.

A part of me loves textbooks and worksheets and tests – go ahead, call me weird, but I love the structure, the clarity, the consistency of such things and I always have.  Even when I was in school, I would rather sit down and take a test for the whole class time than venture outside to find bugs and examine plants, or spend the time listening to someone read me a story.  And though it’s not a popular opinion, I do see value in this type of education.

However, while I don’t think my kids are horribly averse to some of this type of learning, they are also kids who spend their play-time outside looking under rocks for worms, and catching dragonflies, and watching over unhatched bird-eggs, and just generally wanting to explore their surroundings (things I don’t recall ever wanting to do).  I feel like I would be doing them a disservice to try to make them fit the mold of what I’m comfortable with.  But, can I just say again that I really don’t like educational “activities”…especially when it means that I have to organize and ask questions and, well, honestly…think?

So, I am stuck on what to teach, how to teach, how much to teach next year.  I know a lot of people benefit from discussion with other homeschooling moms, but I don’t.  Firstly, I am just not like most of the other moms I know when it comes to this stuff…so how they perceive a particular curriculum is often not how I would.  And secondly, I am an experiential learner.  Something can sound like the most wonderful thing in the world to me, but it may end up being one of the worst things when I try putting it into practice.  Or something that sounds boring or difficult may end up being exactly what I needed.  And I just don’t know until I try it for myself.

I’m trying – really, really trying – to not feel discouraged or incompetent or hopeless when I hear about other moms “perfect” curriculum plans for next year (’cause, somehow, they do always seem perfect).  I’m trying to persuade myself that it’s okay for me to be different, for my kids to be different, and even for me to mess it all up every once in a while.  I’ll have a 3rd grader, a 1st grader and a kindergartner next year, and if you asked me what I remember learning in those grades, I would probably say “nothing”.  So, I’ve concluded that whether the direction I go is perfect or a big disaster, it will likely not ruin my kids’ education in the long run.

At least, that’s what I’m gonna tell myself.

I love the Lord.

I love my Savior.

More than words can say, I love Him.

I may not walk around with a huge smile on my face all the time, but my heart is ever grateful for the sacrifice that I still find unfathomable.

I may not do the best job of publicly noting everything that goes well throughout a day, but He always receives at least whispered thanks the moment I recognize a blessing, no matter how small.

I may seem to have a lot of struggles and frustrations, but I always bring them to Him first, and always with the knowledge that He alone is my hope and defense, my strength and my peace.

I may fail countless times and in countless ways as a mom and wife and friend, but I try again because I trust that His grace covers me and my many failings, and that one day, He will complete the good work He has begun in me.

I may not be adept at offering words of encouragement, but I pray…for my husband and kids and family, for our pastors and church leaders, for struggling friends, and for whomever God may place on my heart…and I believe His word when it says that the effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much.

I may not look like the typical swooning Christian, but my heart is His.  Completely.

I like this song.

I tend to feel the need to explain myself, even if it’s just for my peace of mind…I hate to be misunderstood.  So, here is my explanation for my bluntness, honesty, and sometimes lack of “redemptive” tone in my writing.  It may seem a bit muddled, since it is something that I think has a lot of underlying motivations for me, but I’ll do my best to be clear.

First, I feel a distinct lack of honesty when reading most blogs and interacting with most people.  No, I don’t think everyone needs to share every last detail of how they struggle.  But, I do think that if somebody makes a point of sharing about God’s work of redemption in their lives, it is necessary to share what they are redeemed from, to some extent, and to remind those who are taking note that it is still a work in progress.  Honestly, if the struggles get glossed over and bad situations always presented in the best possible light, that just makes me think that, somehow, God’s redemption is working in that person’s life in a way I have never seen in my own.  From what I’ve been told, in theory, everyone has bad days, everyone has moments and behaviors that don’t get prettier with time, other than in the sense that, by God’s grace, that sin is covered and remembered no more.  So why does everything have to have a positive spin to it, even above and beyond just the remembrance that we are sinners saved by grace?  And why is it so terrible to let someone see that we have moments and days when our falterings are in the realm of our faith, too?  My salvation isn’t lost, and if someone cares enough to read what’s being written, or listen to what’s being said more than in just the snapshot of one conversation or one blog post, they can see that it’s just that I have struggles…struggles that I daily lift to the Lord and seek His help in overcoming.  And I think that’s something that is extremely important to see in someone who is trying to speak about redemption.

Secondly, I grew up with very little positive examples of how to successfully live life.  I know that sounds a bit overarching, but it is really true.  I was never shown in any capacity how to raise godly children, or keep a home, or be a submissive and loving wife,  or maintain a strong relationship with the Lord.  Nor have I had anyone in my life since becoming an adult who has taken time to “pour into” me their wisdom in these matters.  So, my recourse is to observe and set my personal standards by what I see and hear.  I know, it’s not ideal, but it is how I function…and given my limited options, I don’t think it is all that unreasonable.  However, this approach proves kind of hard when the only thing anyone lets others see is perfection.  If nobody ever says that they had an argument with their husband, or lost it with their kids, or failed to get the vacuuming done this week (or last week, or the week before…), my standards for myself get set set impossibly high, and I see myself failing at every turn.  Even if I can see that those expectations of myself are too high, I can’t lower them because I don’t have an acceptable lower threshold.  And you know what?  In the rare instance that someone does share a glimpse into the imperfectness of their lives, especially when it is easy to otherwise see God’s grace at work, they don’t appear to be less of an example of redemption and purpose, but more.

And it gives me hope that God can still use me in spite of me.

Despite my best attempts to be honest, I find that I often fall into the trap of painting life with a rose-colored tint.  This may seem laughable to some (that what I write is a rosier picture than reality) but it’s true.  So, here is a dose of untinted reality.

I went to bed around 10:30 last night.  I did not get out of bed until 7:45 this morning…and I’m still exhausted.  Elijah screamed for a while in the middle of the night.  I did not get up to check on him.  I was too tired.  I was fairly certain that he was having teething pain, since he has a couple molars pushing their way in.  So, I tried to speak some soothing words to him in my half-awake state, and let him cry himself back to sleep.  As usual, I slept poorly due to sciatic nerve pain, and arms and hands that routinely “fell asleep” during the night, and a sore throat that came out of nowhere.

Upon getting up this morning, I took a long shower (maybe 45 minutes?) and tried to ignore the random screams that came from my kids that had nothing better to do.  Well, actually, they were supposed to be making beds, getting clothes out for the day and reading, but obedience usually doesn’t happen unless I check in on them every 15 seconds.

When I was done showering, I had one child take a shower, and once dressed, I proceeded to yell at another child for not having their bed made.  No love or grace was demonstrated…I was just furious that this child had ignored very clear instructions, again.  I bathed Elijah, then discovered crayon in his mouth when I brushed his teeth.  I cleaned it out, scolding him all the while.  I read my Bible (with obviously a great attitude).  Caedmon made breakfast for the kids.  I made my bed and made breakfast for Tim and me (milk has been bothering me, so we didn’t do cereal like the kids).  It was now 9:30.

I read a devotional to the kids and asked a few brief questions.  I played with the trainset with Nathanael and Elijah for a few minutes while Bethany worked on phonics and Caedmon showered.  I checked my email and a few things online.  I half-heartedly tried teaching Nathanael his numbers 11-20.  Elijah ate another crayon.  I got angry with Bethany for disobeying me.  Caedmon loudly practiced piano.  And I had worship music playing in the background but didn’t really listen at all.

I sent Bethany upstairs to take a shower, after explaining the same math problem to her 5 times.  Then I decided to write here, because my day – my life – has me feeling like a big failure again.  It is almost noon and I have gotten next to nothing accomplished today.  And I kind of wish it was just about me being lazy.  But it isn’t.  My body aches.  I am exhausted.  I am still not entirely over a cold that I have had for almost 4 weeks.  I spent one day this week with an upset stomach, another day day with a horrible headache and today I have a sore throat.  I hate to make excuses.

And I wonder if everyone else feels like this all the time and just bites the bullet and does what needs doing anyway, or if there’s something wrong with me that I never feel good.  In either case, I feel like I’m clearly not good enough and I become envious of every other mother / wife / homemaker out there who functions well on a few hours sleep, who gets up early, who has productive mornings, who deals patiently and lovingly with their children, who can force herself to get things done even when she’s sick.

How am I supposed to be okay with myself when I see those examples?  I am not someone who gets challenged and convicted by seeing someone doing something better than me…I just feel condemned and hopeless.  I don’t know how God can see me as someone worth His time, and since I often feel like He’s ignoring me anyway, it becomes really difficult to convince myself that I am.  I know this is not encouraging or uplifting in any way.  But it is honest.  And I think sometimes people need to see honesty, even when it’s not pretty.

For most of my adult life, I have sort of subconsciously felt that I have an agreement with God.  I [we] would be faithful in giving, hold loosely to our material possessions, value family and faith above wealth always, seek Him diligently in financial matters….and in return, He would make sure that we would have smooth sailing in all money matters.

See, I grew up with absolutely no sense of material/financial security.  We relied on food pantries, WIC, bottle collecting for enough money to buy a loaf of bread, etc., to make sure we had enough food to eat.  There were always bills piling up, we rarely had new clothes, we sometimes missed school field trips because the couple dollars it cost to go was more than we could “afford”.  Thankfully, we never went without something to eat, we always had a roof over our heads and clothes on our backs.  But nothing ever felt like a guarantee.  There was a lot of fear and there was a determination that my kids would never have any of those fears.

As I entered adult life, I’m sure I was somewhat naive.  I believed that if I was faithful in giving back to God that money would always be there when I thought it should be there.  And, at first, it kind of was.  I guess because, in actuality, my faith was probably pretty small.  God wasn’t about to give my tiny faith-for-provision muscle a huge mountain to move right off the bat.  So, I guess I figured our “agreement” was intact.

Over the years, there were “small” tests that progressively got bigger, and over-the-top examples of provision that eventually gave way to provision that was simply “enough”.  Stretches of questioning and worrying and trying to figure out where God was and what He could possibly be doing grew longer.  Resulting provision, though in many ways smaller, was nonetheless, much more explicit.  It became more obvious that God wanted us to see that it was Him, not us, that knew best.  And He wanted us to acknowledge that He really was the one providing all we needed.

Yet, somehow, when we moved to NY, I thought that “phase” of life was over.  I thought we had finally satisfied God that we were trusting Him.  But, it seems that since we’ve been here, God has been intent on helping me see just how small my faith for provision actually is…by making it seem like we are losing on every side.  We felt His leading to buy a house that cost more than we wanted to spend, and has ended up having more problems with it than we even remotely anticipated.  We bought a camper when we thought we were going to build a house…though we could have backed-out once we realized plans were changing, we kept our word to buy it, knowing we didn’t need it but hoping God would honor our integrity.  It turns out the camper had a leak…a significant leak…that will cost us more money to fix, and we will still not even be able to sell it for nearly what we paid for it.  Our income, which from all appearances should be more than sufficient, is proving less than needed to cover expenses.  And now, the company Tim is working for is shutting down for 2 weeks this summer…which means 2 weeks of no pay to add more stress to our struggle to see God’s provision.

Honestly, my faith is pretty small right now.  For the first time ever, finances have become a source of contention between Tim and me.  He has, in general, very different ideas of how to resolve financial issues than I have…and I have a really hard time just leaving the decision making to him.  I mean, he hears my opinions, but the truth is, there are just some areas where we don’t see eye to eye and I’m struggling to have faith that God is ultimately the provider and He is the one I need to trust in.

It’s not that I want to paint a bleak picture.  The truth is, we aren’t in any immediate need.  We have money in the bank and aside from our mortgage, we have no debt of any kind.  But, despite our best efforts, we are losing ground.  And unlike other times when we have faced questions of provision, we are living in a place where income opportunities run pretty slim.  There is no fall-back.  God must provide or we will be sunk in time.  I realize now that, in the past, there has always been a “safety-net” for my faith….a belief that there was enough opportunity and we had enough intelligence and skills that, somehow, we would always have enough.  Here, I don’t have that belief.  God is calling us to put all of our faith in Him…without any external logic, without any tangible guarantees.

And honestly?  I don’t like it at all.  I don’t like not knowing what’s next.  I don’t like admitting that it’s not in my hands.  I don’t like that God feels like this is the trial we need most in life right now.  But I don’t seem to get a choice in this, other than how I respond.  So, I will do my best to cling to my remembrance of God’s past provision.  I will do my best to profess God’s promises for us.  I will do my best to find some joy in looking forward to seeing just how God will take care of us.  I will do my best, though I am sure it will not be good enough sometimes.  But, then, I guess that’s probably why this trial is necessary…to make my best better, to make my faith stronger,and  to help me see that God’s good enough is always better than my best, anyway.

I don’t often take note of the good things in life.  I’ve said this before.  Most areas of my life are subject to some measure of me thinking change would be better.  And honestly, even my perception of my husband doesn’t escape this harsh idealism.  I have moments of thinking there is “better”…wanting him to change, knowing there are some qualities he will just never have.  Despite the fact that I know I am horribly flawed and deserve far, far less than the amazing man I have in my husband, I still find myself dissatisfied at times with anything less than perfection from him…which is, obviously, an impossibility.

Occasionally, though, I have a moment of clarity and really recognize: I am so blessed by my husband.  In some ways, it’s easiest for me to understand when I (for purposes of explanation) consider him as a part of myself…a leg, for instance.  There are many things I can say in critique of my legs, but I would never want to live without one.  For that matter, I would never want to live with a different one…I would be off-balance, I would look funny, my ability to perform any number of tasks would be hindered because different wouldn’t fit.  My husband fits me, in so many ways.  But I am also humbled by how he blesses me (in a way I’m sure my limbs couldn’t ever really bless me).  So, here’s a list….more for my benefit than anything else, of just some of the ways my husband holds me up and makes me more and better than I could ever be on my own, or even with a “perfect” person.

:: he lets me stop him in the middle of anything to have him hold me for a moment (or more)

:: he prepares garden beds for me

:: he tells me I’m beautiful

:: he likes vacuuming

:: he kills spiders for me

:: he dries and puts away dishes

:: he does the majority of child wrangling at church

:: he rubs my back

:: he tells me that I don’t sing terribly

:: he doesn’t cringe at my honesty

:: he makes phone calls I don’t want to make

:: he prays for me

:: he values my opinions

:: I can be me, and know that he doesn’t want me to be anything else

:: he talks to me, about everything and anything

:: he is trustworthy

:: he loves me

And I love him.