Saturday, April 16, 2016


(I've finished writing the post below, and part of me wants to just keep it as a draft for my own reading purposes in the future. Publishing it might come off as braggy, and I never want people to mistake my transparency for pride. But the first paragraph is here, and it's raw and authentic. Obviously, we don't have it all together. We fumble through most days, grateful for grace and bedtime. So I'm posting this, praying that it encourages another weary mom out there to take heart and continue putting in the hard work. Grace to you!)
There are seasons in motherhood that feel impossible. These seasons hands you days where you cry, wanna pull your hair out, and call dad on the phone and hand it to the kid. There are these days where you wonder if anything you say or do is making a difference and you kneel in the bathroom and pray--really pray and listen to the Holy Spirit for guidance on what to say and do to get through to this offspring of yours.

And then there are days like today that can happen inside those refining seasons. A day where you feel slightly redeemed as a mom, like something you're busting your knuckles for for has actually "stuck."

First of all, this is our third season playing soccer. Drew really enjoys the high intensity and constant movement of the sport. It's also WAY less boring than baseball to watch, so win-win. (And it's played in the spring and fall, so less sweating--this is my kind of spectator sport, friends.) This morning, the coach placed Drew as a forward and I thought, "Oh no. That's the position he struggles with the most." And then he KILLED IT. I saw more focus and follow through this morning than I've seen in three seasons. Then, to top it off, he scored his first goal! PROUD mama moment. Like, he kicked the goal and me and both grandmas were crying tiny happy tears. Yeah, we are that family.

But then we went out to eat tonight at a mom-and-pop restaurant, and when we were about half way through the meal a man in his late 70s gave Drew some money and asked him to put it in the tip jar for the singer on stage. Drew gets shy and has a problem speaking to people he doesn't know. I encouraged him to say thank you and yes sir, but the man didn't hear him because Drew barely looked his way and mumbled the words. I encouraged him to finish his bite of food, walk to the man's table and make eye contact while he spoke. I was afraid he would fight me. Complain and whine. But he mustered up all the strength in his little body and walked to that man's table with his head up and said, "Thank you, sir. I'm going to put this in the jar for you." And I watched him be brave and conquer his fear, even though it was written all over his 7 year old face. And the man smiled at him, told us what a beautiful family we have, and said, "I see Jesus in you, son." MELT. ME. My heart swelled at soccer with his goal and persistence, but I was slayed when he stood up and spoke like a man, not allowing his fear to take him captive. He seemed to grow up a bit, right there in that moment. God gave me a glimpse of the man he is to become, and reminded me to keep on keeping on, especially in the difficult, refining seasons.

So tonight, in a season that leaves me in a mess at times, I'm thanking God for the victories in all forms that he allowed today. It was big for Drew, but it was just as big for his mom.

Resting in His grace,

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