Guest Post Archives - Page 3 of 3

Pause Life for a Moment-Little Bit Quirky

July 26, 2011 By Deirdre

I love visiting Little Bit Quirky’s blog . I try to get there more than once a week, but I always read her post of Thursday. She is one of Mrs. Matlock Alphabe’s students. It was through Mrs. Matlock that I first found her site.

Little Bit Quirky writes about her life as the mom of a wonderful young lady with autism. She is a valiant supporter of her daughter and seeker of what will be the best for her.

Below she questions why I asked her to write a Pause Life for a Moment. Here are some of the reasons:

1. She is a wonderful writer. Her words flow.

2. She is a mom I would love to sit down and chat with about life. I think she would have a lot to teach me. She already makes me pause for a moment and think about what is best for JDaniel.

3. She is so real in the way she writes. I wanted you to get to read her words and get to know her.

JDaniel4’s Mom asked me to write a post about how I take small moments to keep my sanity in this crazy life we call motherhood.

My first thought was, “Write a guest post? Is she insane? Who has the time? I can barely hobble together posts for my own blog!”

The truth is, I only have one child, who is now 7 and has been going to school full-time. She has Asperger’s, so I chauffeur her around to her speech and social skills appointments after school. I had more free time than I knew what to do with!

Because of this, I took a part-time job that allowed me to work while my daughter was in school, but be with her after school to be sure she does her homework correctly, arrange play dates, and take her to her appointments.

While I love working again, I have no “me-time” anymore. None. Zilch. Nada.

Why did JDaniel4’s Mom ask me to write a post on this topic? I’m so not the person to be doing this!

Anyway, over the summer, my daughter is attending camp 4 days a week. She stays home on Tuesdays because she has her speech therapy and her social skills class scheduled for that day. It’s the one day I don’t make the 2-hour commute (round-trip) to work. I don’t even work for the most part on Tuesdays! We use this day to sleep in and live life at a slower pace. It’s nice to have a day where we don’t have to run around non-stop like crazy, headless chickens!

Another interesting thing happened. On one of these Tuesdays, my daughter had an opportunity to play with a couple of sisters she’s never met before. In order to accommodate the long play date, I had to cancel her speech therapy. The play date was loads of fun, and my daughter had much better social interaction than she would have in speech therapy.

We did go to her social skills class. Interestingly enough, the behaviorist pulled me aside after class to tell me that my daughter did an amazing job in class. She had never seen her do such high-level communication skills such as read her peers’ body language to determine if they were listening to her, then change her approach to get her peers’ attention. The behaviorist was floored!

Me? I really thought the 6-hour play date had a huge influence on my daughter’s success in her social skills class.

Sometimes, slowing life down a bit can bring great developmental leaps!

Please stop by Little Bit Quirky and read more of her wonderful words.

Pause Life for a Moment- Good Day, Regular People

July 12, 2011 By Deirdre

Today’s Pause Life for a moment blogger is the Empress. She reigns over Good Day, Regular People with a kind heart, a generous spirit, and a sense of fun. I love to stop by to read her posts. Her blog shares her insights as well as her son Baby E’s. Life can get you down at times. The Empress’ posts can brighten your day and can make you laugh, think or cry.

First, JDaniel’s mom, I want to thank you for the special gift of being invited to guest for “Pause Life For a Moment.”

This series you’ve created, just in writing on the topic, allows any guest poster and reader of these words, to pause in their day, and refocus on what is going to matter to us, our families, and our children.

I thank you, for the space you’ve given me here, to “re-focus.”

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Women are busier now then they have ever been.

The opportunities, along with the lure of social media, exercise clubs, personal hobbies, working outside of the home or inside the home, is deliciously tempting, and rewarding.

We are no longer lonely women at home, we have friends at the push of a key. Contact with others can be a short 20 minute drive away.

How easy it is to answer the call of instant access to others. Especially when you’ve found yourself feeling isolated, while home with your children.

The pull to go online, or build your social circle, email friends, go on twitter, text, join a cycling club, interact with others, is a very strong one.

It is for me.

How do we, as women, find the time that is necessary to do what matters in life? The important things. To devote ourselves entirely to our families is a saintly goal. One that I tried for, but found that pursuit leaving me resentful, lonely, unhappy, and with a clinical case of depression that did not make for a happy home life for anyone.

I enjoy my interaction with others outside of my family. Conversations and quick exchanges between friends can buoy my mood upward for days.

But, again, the question: how do you FIND the time for special moments for your family? Aside from the necessary of keeping house, preparing meals, grocery shopping, working?

And it isn’t only women who are online that are short on time. There are women who exercise faithfully an hour and a half at a time, daily. There are women who delight in being immersed in a good book for at least an hour of their day. There are women who find joy in their work outside of their home, or who work at home.

Where do we find the time to Pause. And really be in our lives.

I had a light bulb moment a few years ago, and it occurred by accident.

Our mornings here, in my quest for efficiency, ironically in hopes of creating a pocket of “worthwhile” time later, were spent in quick, drill like processes.

Breakfast, washed up, dressed, prayer, boom – start the day.

While my children ate, I’d clean up. So streamlined, in and out in 45 minutes.

One particular day, I noticed my oldest son just kept talking to me, coming over to stand next to me at the kitchen sink, and talking. Thank God I felt the tug in my heart to stop the activity I was involved in, and decided I needed to go sit and listen to him.

When he went back to the kitchen table, I followed him. I pulled up the chair next to him, poured myself some orange juice, and sat to look at him while he spoke. I cleared my mind of my mental to do list.

I listened to my boy.

He had plans, ideas of what he thought he might want to do as an adult. I listened, with my eyes on his face instead of the usual downcast look while I did the dishes, in the hopes of getting a jump on my day.

I watched my beautiful son’s face grow more animated, as he drank in my mental presence. I saw his smile burst big and bright, the longer I sat with him.

I felt my heart grow warm with gratitude. I felt nothing and thought of nothing, but this moment with him.

I was Pausing Life for the Moment.

I was living in it, and I was there with him.

This was a connection, this was joy: on an ordinary morning with no special pre-arranged “time for each other.”

Yes, there should still be an intention of creating moments and time for our children. But, simply put, pauses don’t have to be planned in order to happen.

We just have to recognize them.

And that has absolutely nothing to do with the amount of time in a day.

Please stop by Good Day, Regular People and let the Empress know about a time you pause your day and connected with your kids.

Pause Life for a Moment- a belle, a bean and a chicago dog

June 7, 2011 By Deirdre

Liz of a belle, a bean, and a chicago dog is an amazing blogger. She understands social media, loves to collaborate with and support other bloggers, and runs several communities and a media consulting firm. What I love best about her is the way she loves her husband and her girls. I have never seen them together in person, but the pictures she has drawn about them with her words display her love over and over again.

In the Final Moments of the Day

To say our children are only small for a moment may sound so trite but it’s oh so true. Those first couple years are filled with pounds gained, inches grown and milestones reached, and then without notice, we are left with a blossoming preschooler, often too independent for mom.

My oldest, Kate, was never a cuddler. As soon as she could sit up on her own, she wanted to be free to do and see what she pleased. My second chance at stealing those sweet snuggly moments was with Madelyn, and – colic aside – she’s come through for me with some sweet nuzzles here and there.

My favorite time of the day is bedtime. And not just because that means I can consider myself “off duty.” We have a long-standing bedtime routine in our house, and cozying up in the glider in Maddie’s room, singing songs and telling stories, is how we end our days.
Unfortunately, the countdown to age 3 is on for Maddie, which means those precious, End-of-the-Day moments are limited. It saddens me on the nights she asks to sit next to me on the glider instead of on my lap. Or when she tries to cuddle up against my chest but can’t quite get comfortable because she’s grown too tall.

I often wonder how soon our treasured bedtime routine will come to an end.

But for now, I’m enjoying each evening as it comes. I’ve recently added an additional song to our routine, and may or may not frequently ask her if she wants to rock for a bit longer even though her songs and stories are done. Then I rest my head on the cushioned chair back and take in that extra time with my baby, peacefully swaying back and forth.

Please stop by a belle, a bean, and a chicago dog and tell her about your own special sleepy time moments.

I can’t wait until the end of June when I can meet her in person at the Type A Parent Conference.

Pause Life for a Moment- Mama Dweeb

May 31, 2011 By Deirdre

Mama Dweeb (Annie) is as sweet as she is wise. I met her at the Type A Conference last fall at breakfast and she was so kind to me. What a special lady! I am thrilled that she is sharing with you today.

I work hard. Always have. I graduated high school at 17 years old, got my first job and moved into college dorms one month after graduation. From then on I had at least 2-3 jobs while in college full time.

I cannot take a break.

Now I am a mother of 3 kids – 4 year-old-daughter, 2 year-old-son and 5 month old daughter. I blog full time and volunteer at my church and in my community.

I cannot take a break.

And now, with the internet I really can’t take a break. It is there, 24/7. Tasks needing accomplished, tweets, posts, comments, photos! Constant – yet enjoyable. Working is how I have defined my success my entire life. Taking a break was for the lazy. The busier I was the happier I was and, in my eyes, successful.

But with such young children, if I do not take a break more often, I will miss important things. Very important things. Just the other day, my internet broke. I was without the ability to get online (save for my email on my phone) all day.

I played with my kids. I always play with them. But with the computer off, I really played. My 4 year old and I worked on her letters and numbers literally all day long. My 2 year old and I did sword fights and the baby was just cute.

Now that the internet is back on, I am taking more breaks. I can still be successful, I just have to take more and longer breaks. I am learning how to manage my time better and spend quality time with my children while they are awake.

I still work very hard at my blog. But now, I focus on them better. Focus, like the 50mm lens of a DSLR, blurring out the peripheral. I hone in on them, their grins, their minds expanding. Amazing what I miss when I am right here.

About the Author:

Annie works full time on her Kansas Blog MamaDweeb.com. She lives in Kansas with her 3 kids and loving husband. You can find her on twitter @MamaDweeb, she loves to chat about all things parenting and life!

Pause Life for a Moment- Spilled: Because My Cup Overflows

May 24, 2011 By Deirdre

Sometimes you read a blog and feel you know its writer. Spilled: Because My Cup Overflows is one of those bloggers for me. After reading about her boys and the joy and challenges they bring I feel I know her. Her writing flows. Her pictures draw you in to take a peek into her family life. You are so going to love the guest post she wrote. I have walked in her shoes and want to choose to wear them in a new way just as she has.

I never thought of myself as an angry person.

According to all the stories my parents–and others who knew me in those days–tell me of my growing-up years, I was a calm, easy-going, eager-to-please child who never threw temper tantrums and who got along well with siblings and friends. When I lived in San Diego as a young married woman and had to learn to drive on busy, multi-lane highways (so different from the country roads surrounding my parents’ home, where the biggest traffic challenge was passing the horses and buggies of Old Order Mennonites!), I didn’t experience the road rage that is so common in southern California. Even when we lived in Israel and dealt with the frustrations of life in an intense foreign culture, my husband was the one who occasionally blew his top and vented his anger on, for example, a landlord who wasn’t doing anything about the lack of electricity in our apartment, in the middle of a scorching summer, in a very hot climate, in which our young son was suffering (albeit mildly) because of the landlord’s negligence.

I don’t intend, by these examples, to give the impression that I was perfect in this area and never got frustrated; but I do believe it’s fair to say that anger wasn’t one of my besetting sins.

But then I had children. And, as we all know, that changes everything.

When exactly did my struggle with anger begin? When my first child was a baby? No, I

don’t think so. I may have been extra-tired and overly-worried, but I don’t remember my frustration level being through the roof. I do know, however, that by the time my first child was a preschooler and my second a toddler, I had a problem: a daily struggle with anger.

To be honest, I didn’t even like to admit it was anger. “I’m stressed!” I would say. “I feel really frustrated!” But at the root of that, when I was transparent enough to peel off the false labels I attached to it, lay an ugly, rotten, pile of…yes…anger.

Thankfully, my anger was controlled by some heavy-duty fences, and those boundaries stayed intact: no physical violence against my children, no calling them names, no yelling and screaming and cursing. But there was one tell-tale sign that I couldn’t cover up, no matter how hard I tried to maintain a facade of being calm, cool, and collected.

There was an edge in my voice. Kids are smart, you know? It didn’t take my sons long to realize that when they heard that particular tone,Mommy was mad.

Is there anything more heart-breaking than asking your children what they see in you that you should change and hearing them say, “Your harsh words”? How many times have I apologized to a sad-hearted child–”I’m sorry I spoke harshly to you”–and heard the quiet response, “That’s OK, Mommy. I forgive you”?

In the years since I first admitted to myself that, when it came to my children, I had an anger problem, I have searched for the answer, the solution to my wrath, the antidote to the poison-before it does lasting harm to my children (of whom there are now four–all dearly-loved boys! ). I haven’t discovered a magic cure, but I have found grace for the journey. And sometimes, a light breaks forth and shines unexpectedly, providing illumination for the next step of the path to peaceful motherhood. Here is my latest insight…

One day recently, I began my morning by having this question pop into my head: Is there anything so important today that would justify me getting angry with my children? Is there any meeting or appointment so vital that it would be better for me to get that horrible edge in my voice as I rushed my children along rather than be late to it? Is there any household task so essential that it would validate my frustration if my sons interrupt or distract me from it? Is there anything–ANYTHING at all–crucial enough to be worth the cost of me getting angry?

Because there is a cost. There always is, usually paid in the downcast glances and slumped shoulders of little ones whose hearts bleed silently when Mommy speaks harshly.

When I ask myself those questions, the answer is painfully obvious. No! There is nothing that important! The cost of anger is too high; I refuse to pay it.

Because of that decision, I am better equipped to pause life for a moment as I go into my dressing room, so to speak–to shed the garments of stress and anxiety and pressure and frustration and anger, and to clothe myself with, as Paul instructs us in Colossians 4:12, “tenderhearted mercy, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience.”

Forget name brands–those are the kinds of clothes I long for! 🙂

What are you longing for?

Pause Life for a Moment- Things I Can’t Say

May 17, 2011 By Deirdre

Shell of Things I Can’t Say is wonderful and it is hard to put into words how amazing she is. I met her in real life at the Type A Mom Conference last fall and she was as friendly, a personable and real as you would think she is after reading her posts. I went to the conference hoping to learn about blogging and I did. A lot of what I learned was from Shell. She is not a blogger who is guarded about the secrets to her success. Shell shared blogging insights I really needed to hear to move forward in blogging. I will be forever thankful that she is who she is and she shares it with others.

So much of my time as a mom, I was looking forward to an event in the future:

*When my baby would sleep through the night

*When my baby could walk

*When the next baby was born

*When the NEXT baby was born

*When all my boys are out of diapers

*When we’re past the stroller stage

*When all my boys are in school

Thinking everything would get simpler and easier.

Rush, rush, rush through all the frantic moments.

But then I take a good look at my boys. My oldest, who is finishing his first year of kindergarten. My middle, who just turned five. My BABY who is turning 3 in a few weeks.

And I realize that I don’t have babies any more. My boys are getting so big.

And I want to pause life for a moment.

Pause it while they still fit in my lap.

Pause it while they still want me to tuck them in at night.

Pause it while they still want to hug me in front of their friends.

Pause it while they think I’m the most beautiful girl in the world.

Pause it while they are my little boys.

Time is moving fast enough. I don’t need to wish away their childhoods, just to get to the “easy” stuff.

Something tells me it’s not going to be easy, anyway.

So, I’d like to pause life for a moment and enjoy my babies. I just won’t call them that where they can hear.

Please stop by Things I Can’t Say and let Shell know how much you have enjoyed this post.

Pausing Life for a Moment- Tammy’s Two Cents

May 10, 2011 By Deirdre

I met Tammy of Tammy’s Two Cents through Pretty Pink Momma. One day Pretty Pink Momma asked her readers to stop by and visit her friend Tammy’s blog. After visiting it that Friday, I found myself making nearly daily visits.. She writes product reviews, host giveaways, and share about her family life. I love reading about her children and the wonderful times her family has exploring the Salvation Army store. If there is a deal to be found there on a Friday night, they will find it.

Beyond reading her blog, I look forward to her e-mails. She writes me several times a week about comments I have left on her blog or she has left on mine. I would honestly have to say she is one of my closest blogging friends.

The post she wrote is open and very honest about a struggle in her life. I hope you will not only read her words appreciating that fact, but will leave her a comment on her blog letting her know how her words have affected you.

When I think about the word “Pause” I am reminded of my favorite possession as a teenager…my cassette tape recorder (yea, I’m old). I loved listening to my music. If my sister, mom or dad came in my room, I would quickly hit the pause button so I wouldn’t miss any part of my favorite songs.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we could pause that recorder anywhere we want in life? Maybe even fast forward through a bad relationship or rewind a favorite moment in life like a wedding or a birth? My pause button was activated a few years ago and I wish with all my being I could have turned that pause off.
Through sobs and tears, I heard the doctor say “You are suffering from Depression and Anxiety.” Talk about my pause button being pushed! I didn’t quite understand why the doctor was saying this because I had come in to see her about not being able to bounce back from the flu. I walked into the doctor’s office that afternoon totally unaware that I was suffering from anything other than flu. I knew I couldn’t eat, was extremely emotional (cried almost every morning) lost my interest in shopping, didn’t want to leave home and so much more.

She sent me in for an ultrasound and a few blood tests but said I had all the signs of depression.

Depression was not on my play list. I had so much going for me at the time…a wonderful family, was the class coordinator for my daughter’s class, active in Bible Study, so to have my pause button suddenly pushed, I had a hard time with it. Looking back it was a pause that I guess I needed. I have always put others first in my life, trying to make everyone comfortable and happy. I forgot about myself, I forgot to put myself first…I am the one I needed to take care of. As women we are born nurturers, why do we forget to nurture ourselves? I have come a long way in the last two years. The depression is not gone but it is not prominent in my life. I am now able to manage it without medication because I know the signs. Every once in awhile the anxiety will creep back in to my daily life, it reminds me that I am still in the process of learning on how to not let “everything” get to me. Letting everything get to me is my trigger.

I have learned that I need to push my pause button frequently…to take the time for me! I now make sure I get out of the house, have lunch with the girls, nights out with my best friend, date night…the list goes on! Learn from my pause in life and take the time for YOU!!

Pause Life for a Moment-Two Bears Farm and Three Cubs

March 22, 2011 By Deirdre

Two Bears Farm and Three Cubs and I quite literally met over lunch. Really! We meet over a Muffin Tin lunch! I came across Two Bears Farm and Three Cubs on a Muffin Tin Monday link up. She is a regular there as am I. We started visiting each others blogs and commenting. I love to read her comments on my posts, but it is her posts leave me in awe. She posts recipes, muffin tin meals, amazing creative writing posts, posts on writing marathons and the joys of parenting three small boys. Her posts have depth and detail that will leave a reader hanging on to the very last word.

Today I’ve abandoned my standard mom gear of black yoga pants and an LL Bean quarter zip sports fleece for well-worn barn jeans and my well-loved paddock boots. It’s been a while. Like everyone else with young children in the home (three in my case), it’s not often I get out for a solo moment. My husband is gamely watching the boys this morning so I can get out to lunge Zip. He’s my project horse, a handsome sorrel quarterhorse that was given to me just before I got pregnant with the twins. The lady who owned him before was timid, and he turned out to be too much for her. I was working him regularly and making solid progress, but then I got pregnant with the twins and didn’t want to take any risks working a green horse. It was a worthy sacrifice, like so many others that I made for my boys.

It’s been three months since I last worked Zip. I need to be working him at least twice a week, but it just seems impossible with cloth diapers to wash, meals to cook, phonics to teach and playgrounds to climb. Since it’s been so long, Zip is suspicious when I enter the pasture. I love the freedom I feel as I walk across the just-beginning-to-green March grass in my boots. Even using a calm voice, the same voice I use when rocking a sick boy in the middle of the night, Zip is wary. I use some grain in a rubber tub to catch him – he just can’t resist.

I snap Zip’s halter into the crossties and brush his unruly mane, gently picking out a few cockleburs and he starts to relax and enjoy himself a little. The scent of his dusty, long, winter fur is candy to my nose. I’ve ridden horses my whole life, and breathing them in regenerates my soul.

It would be unwise of me to just hop on a horse as green as Zip after a three month hiatus, so instead I’ll be working him on the lunge line. This is a long 15 to 20 foot rope that attaches to the horse’s bridle and allows him to work around you in circles as he goes through his paces. I use special equipment that helps Zip to learn how to balance himself, and set the side reins at their loosest setting. The side reins help Zip to learn how to carry his head properly, but since it’s been so long I don’t want them to seem too constrictive to him.

The crushed gray stone is soft under our feet as we enter the riding arena. I carefully pull the red metal gate shut behind me, and check all the setting on Zip’s tack for an appropriate fit. Zip is anxious. He’s calling to our other horses, crying to them from across the fields and arena. In the distance, they answer back. Zip snorts and the whites of his eyes show. The second I give him the cue to work he takes off.

He’s refused any chance of a warm-up, and instead breaks away into a rough canter. He starts off on the wrong lead, and I admire his spontaneous flying change – a sign of his innate flexibility. He’s leaning hard on the line, pulling the rope in my hand. He’s fighting the side reins, tossing his head and snorting and bucking on occasion, his tail sticking up in the air in excitement. I find myself thankful that I’m not on his back while he acts this crazy. I have plenty of time to think as I watch his internal struggle. He doesn’t want to give up his freedom. He doesn’t want to settle down into his work. I can empathize. As a mom, I have so many days when I don’t want to do another load of laundry, to cook another meal, to pick up the 5 million toys scattered throughout the house again. I want to fight the chains that bind, to run and flee my obligations. I mentally fight the little hand pulling on my sleeve, making demands; there’s always something else that needs to be done in the endless job of motherhood. Zip is struggling to hold on to his spirit, just as I struggled to hold on to the memory of dining out, unfettered careers, and solo shopping trips.

And just like that, I see it. Zip starts to slow his breathing. His tail drops. The rapid staccato of hooves slows and softens. I see the gentle arch in his neck, the arch a symbol of the acceptance of the side reins. His ears, once back in anger, now angle forward, eager and listening. He stretches his neck and then I see the sign I’ve been looking for. Zip begins to mouth the air. He works his lips and gums gently. It’s a sign that he is ready to work. He has come into his own. He has accepted his job and his place with happiness but without completely losing his spirit, and he has realized that this is what he was bred for, that this is who he needs to be, right here and right now. And I think that this too is like motherhood. This is the moment the baby falls asleep in your arms, the sweet smell of graham cracker face in a hug, the quiet contentment of tucking my boys into bed for the night. The moments that I wouldn’t trade for the world, the satisfaction of a job well done, the knowing that each brick laid in our family is building character and strength and teaching my boys to be socially conscious in our world. There is no job, no career more important than this.

Quietly, I tell Zip he’s done. He stops, and waits for me to approach him. I pat his neck and tell him what a good boy he’s been and he nuzzles me with affection. He slimes my shirt with drooly grass lips and I laugh. We walk back towards the barn, side by side, a mutual respect and understanding between the two of us. Horse and mother, spirit and family, we are one. Next time, I think, we’ll ride.

If you love this post and I know you do, please stop by her blog and tell her.

Pause Life for a Moment: Ostriches Look Funny

March 15, 2011 By Deirdre

There are times when you come across a blog and you think that this blogger has read your mind. Not only have they read your mind but, they have written down what you have been thinking about better than you could have expressed it yourself in writing. Ostriches Look Funny is that kind of blog for me. I love her writing style, her photo choices, and her love for God.

The posts on Ostriches Look Funny are funny challenge me to a better mom, make me laugh and or cry, and lead me to pray all at the same time.

Below you will find Ostriches Look Funny’s take on the phrase Pause Life for Moment. If you like it and I know you will, please stop by her blog and read some of the other wonderful posts she has created.

It was a day when the sun and the wind get together to blow kisses on your arms and everything feels perfect and looks green. I herd my children down a dirt path, away from church and bible study, away from the bathroom that my pregnant body suddenly needs, and I march forward with a secret goal to get home and eat a peanut butter sandwich before one o’ clock.

I pause and glance behind my shoulder, and my ducklings are not following me. They both had stopped, squatted down like children do, staring intently at foxtails and nondescript wildflowers.

“Look! MOM! Look! Look at this purple flower! Can I take this stick to the car?” my three-year-old queries.
My bladder grumbles and I sigh and say, “No! I don’t have time for this.”

And as soon as the words leave my mouth, my heart asks the question, “If you don’t have time for THIS, what do you have time FOR?”
If I don’t have time for stopping to look at the green and whispery foxtails, if I don’t have time for examining minuscule purple wildflowers, if I don’t have time to watch my little boy’s golden baby curls wave in the breeze, what am I here for?

Time is a gift, and no one is guaranteed a particular amount.

It is a gift, given for a brief period and then, vapor-like, it runs out. My sons are growing by inches and miles, my wrinkles are multiplying in the night. Right now I am in a beautiful season, my children are small and Spring has made everything pink and green. But, they haven’t found a cure for cancer or car accidents. People die, and children suffer, and waves wash over entire cities. I don’t know what will happen tomorrow. I am only guaranteed this breath, this beat, this miraculous moment.

What is my moment for then?

The answer is different each time I ask. There is a time for everything; a time to cry and a time to laugh, a time to look at wildflowers in the sun, and a time to rush home to use the bathroom…but I don’t have time to be impatient with my children. I don’t t have time to be selfish, or quarrelsome, or bitter, or faithless. The great gift is not for such things, such things waste a life.

It’s hard for me to live in the moment when my house is a bomb, which it usually is. I feel tinges of guilt when I start a project only to lay it down for twenty minutes to address a paper airplane emergency. There have been days where the dishwasher has remained halfway unloaded for four hours straight (I think maybe my son has Dishwasher Radar, and if he sees me walking towards it he goes into Mommy Emergency Hug and Kisses Me Mode…but that’s just a conspiracy theory) and it makes me a little crazy. The point is, in order for me to savor each minute, some things aren’t finished when I want them to be.

I can look at my house and spiral into a depression over the lint and dust and crumbs that have taken over while I was on a walk with my kids…or I can remember that it is good to rest from my works. Following Jesus is about freedom, even freedom from housework. As crazy as it makes me, I give my half washed dishes to God and ask him to sort out my time for me.

“There remains, then, a Sabbath-rest for the people of God, for anyone who enters God’s rest also rests from their works, just as God did from His.” – Hebrews 4:9-10
I pause my life by changing my perspective, by savoring the moment, by noticing the foxtails and the baby curls. I pause my life by remembering the Lord is the one who makes me holy; not my broom, and not my mop, and not my schedule. So, rest friends. God will take care of you.