When a Piece of You Falls Away

I’m standing at a microphone with white lights beating on my face. Exposed and vulnerable, I scan the rows of people staring in anticipation. Piano keys signal my cue. I swallow, flash a smile, and open my mouth to sing.

No sound comes out.

Crazy bad dream, right? It’s like the one where I show up for the first day of high school and realize I forgot my class schedule, so I wander the halls in panic.

Except this wasn’t a dream. It really happened—last Sunday.

Stage fright was not the problem. I’ve been singing on my church worship team for nearly a decade, which makes me an old-timer. I know how to do this. It’s who I am.

But apparently my throat disagreed. I had a minor cold, no big deal. For three morning services, the melodies still squeaked through. When I returned for the evening service, I assumed round four would be no different. I was wrong.

Seems my vocal cords swelled up during the afternoon, rebelling against their morning exercise. I took my station in front of the 5 o’clock congregation and wham!—blindsided by laryngitis. So I glued that smile to my face and lip synced like a pro.

Thank God I didn’t have a solo.

Have you ever lost something familiar? Something you relied on, or got so used to having, you just assumed it would always be there—your health, income, a relationship, the promise of a good night’s sleep. My something right now is my voice.

It’s been a rough year for singing. I’ve been sick a lot—unusually dragged down by sore throats and coughing fits. Vocal cords don’t like coughing fits. Laryngitis stripped my pride many a Sunday.

So I have to wonder. Is God trying to get my attention? What do we do when God takes away a piece of us?

I stumbled through some options. {Hint: Only one of them works in the long-run.}

1. Fight. I tried forcing a note. Nothing. I hummed under my breath, but still nothing. Fighting only confirmed the loss.

2. Fake it. Pretend everything is fine. Yep, better than Milli Vanilli in their glory days.

3. Feel ashamed. Our poor sound man slapped earphones on his head and pushed button after button, scrambling to figure out why my microphone was malfunctioning. When I caught his eye, I made a discreet throat-slit motion across my neck and mouthed the words, “Nothing. I’m sorry.”

4. Mourn. If Sunday had been an isolated incident, I might’ve laughed. But it was the final straw on a heap of weak singing days. So I drove home in tears.

5. Pray. This is where I’m choosing to land. Because ultimately, God does not want me to rely on my voice. He wants me to rely on him.

“But he said to me, ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.’ Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong,” (2 Corinthians 12:9–10).

What is your something? Will you be brave and let it go? I don’t know where God is taking me on this chronic laryngitis ride, but I can no longer deny he is moving me. So I’m going to humble myself and trust him.

You can, too. Let’s do it together.

Milli Vanilli was a duo, after all.


If this post encouraged you, please pass it on. You might also like On Dreams, Contentment, and Spaghetti, It Hurts Because I Love You, and Life Is a Highway.

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Linking up with: The Better Mom, Playdates With God, Titus 2sdays, Domestically Divine Tuesday, Living Well Wednesdays, Grace at Home, Things I Can't Say, and Thought Provoking Thursday.

I Should (Not) Do That

I suffer from a common condition. It’s called “shoulditis”—otherwise known as I should do that disease.

Symptoms flare up under the most ordinary circumstances.

When my friend calls to say she’s taking a Zumba class, I think of how long it’s been since my Nikes hit the gym, and my own voice whispers in my head, I should do that.

When I scroll through Facebook and see a dozen photos of cutesy craft projects other moms created with their children, I’m deflated. I should do that.

When my parenting magazine plugs a recipe for brownies using hidden carrot puree, I think of the Duncan Hines box stashed in my cupboard. Carrots are way healthier. I should do that.

Vacation plans. Extreme couponing. Colon-cleansing diets. Reading lists, scrapbooks, chore charts and hand-sewn purses. Clown-face pancakes, for crying out loud. She does it! I should do it, too! 

But I can’t do everything, can I?

And that is the pain of shoulditis. It assumes I’m supposed to be someone else—or a hundred someone elses. My spirit inflames with an impossible itch to be as clever, resourceful, energetic, artsy and self-disciplined as those other women.

Reality check. They can’t do everything, either.

We all have our own things—our talents, interests, commitments, priorities. Yours aren’t better than mine, and mine aren’t better than yours. They’re just different.

Why? Because God is fantastically creative, and he gave us each a unique blend of gifts. Trying to do it all is a waste of time. It’s like saying God got it wrong. On the flip side, doing what he created us to do—that’s worship.

“Now there are varieties of gifts, but the same Spirit; and there are varieties of service, but the same Lord; and there are varieties of activities, but it is the same God who empowers them all in everyone,” (1 Corinthians 12:4–6, ESV).

So. Let’s slap some salve on that shoulditis, shall we? (Say that five times fast.)

The antidote is: I should NOT do that.

When the neighbors rent a mega bounce house for their son’s birthday party, I will tell myself, I should NOT do that. My girls have winter birthdays, anyway. We can’t fit a bounce house in the kitchen.

When my friend signs up for a half marathon. Good for her! But I should NOT do that. Stroller walks are more my pace.

When that sweet lady in the church choir raves about her make-ahead freezer meals. I should definitely NOT do that. This momma prefers to spend Sunday afternoon running through the sprinkler. I will grab my chicken patties from the supermarket and call them dinner.

So let’s all agree—you should do what you do, and I should do what I do, and together we will create a supportive, well-rounded community of women who love what they do and really can do it all—collectively.

Amen?

Now I hope you’ll pardon me, but I must sign off. It’s time to work on my photo books. I know, I know—Shutterfly isn’t your cup of tea. You just keep reading that Shakespeare or knitting your washcloths, my friends. No worries. We were made for different things.


If this post encouraged you, please pass it on. You might also like How a Wiggles Movie Changed My Life, Don’t Lie to Me, and When You Want What They Have.

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Linking up with: The Better Mom, Titus 2sdays, Domestically Divine Tuesday, Living Well Wednesdays, Grace at Home, Things I Can't Say, Thought Provoking Thursday and Faithfully Parenting Fridays.

I Love You Lots and Cows

I don’t know where she got the idea. Maybe it was because we’d just visited our friend’s dairy farm. She found the animals intimidating—larger than life. In my daughter’s world, those cattle were the biggest thing imaginable. That might be why, when her dad asked her, “How much does Daddy love you?” our two-year-old answered, “Cows.”

“Cows?” My husband laughed. “Silly, how much does Daddy love you?”

Again, she answered, “Cows.”

For days, our daughter upheld this baffling reply until finally my husband taught her an appropriate response. I walked into the family room to find them both beaming and clapping their hands.

“Say it for Mom!” my husband cheered. “How much does Daddy love you?”

“Lots!” she shouted. “Lots and cows!”

It’s been several months since we first heard this phrase, and now it’s etched in our ears and on our hearts. Our toddler declares at random, “Momma, I love you lots and cows.” She says it to her sister and to her daddy. So we reply with hugs and the same special endearment. “I love you lots and cows, too.”

I wonder—how much does God love us? If he had to describe in human-scale terms his colossal, unfathomable love, I think he’d say. . .

     I love you this sunset.

     I love you Grand Canyon.

     I love you Jupiter, Saturn, Neptune and Mars.

     My child, can’t you see? I love you Jesus.

Wow. That is big indeed.

“For God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son, that whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life,” (John 3:16).

“How much does Momma love you?” I asked my daughter yesterday.

“Lots and cows!” She smiled.

I kissed her forehead, held her cheeks in my hands and followed up with a new question. “And how much does God love you?”

“Lots and cows—and peanut butter!”

Precious girl. She gets it.


If this post encouraged you, please pass it on. You might also like Honey, Sweetheart, Sugar Pie, The Big Do-Over, Learning Is Messy, and Daddy Can Fix It.

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Linking up with: The Better Mom, Playdates With God, Titus 2sdays, Domestically Divine Tuesday, Living Well Wednesdays, Grace at Home, Faith-Filled Friday and Faithfully Parenting Fridays.

Wishing My Life Away

I’m boycotting Walmart. And Target, Shopko, Walgreens, Toys R Us, plus that aisle in the grocery store that stocks the crayons. Not forever—just until August. Why? Because last week, I went shopping for half-price sparklers and found the shelves packed with school supplies.

Back to school sales? Already? Please, let my kids have their summer! Let me have this summer—with my kids.

It’s a kindergarten thing, see. In less than two months, my firstborn starts full-day school, and I’m having heart palpitations just thinking about it. I want to hold her ransom, splashing through the sprinkler and slurping popsicles like tomorrow will never come.

I didn’t always feel this way. There was a time when I wished ahead, longed for my girls to grow, to get past a rough stage, to sleep—oh glorious sleep! I reached toward the promise of easier days, and in so doing, I missed living the day I was given.

“This is the day the LORD has made. Let us rejoice and be glad in it,” (Psalm 118:24).

Do you ever add words to that verse? Sure, Lord, I’ll rejoice and be glad—as soon as the baby is sleeping through the night.

After those teeth poke through.

When she can hold her own spoon.

Once tantrums are a thing of the past.

Then soon enough, they are. But so are five years of beautiful childhood, which I’ll never get back. I want to learn the art of living in the moment before it’s too late. Before my girls wave goodbye from a college parking lot—at their sappy mother whose heart will burst into a sobbing mess as soon as our empty minivan turns the corner.

This is the day the Lord has made—yes, even this one. So I will rejoice and be glad in it.

All of it.

The laughter and the tantrums, the stinky diapers and the bubble baths, the bickering and blanket fort camping in the playroom.

I’m done wishing my life away. Let me have my summer, store people. Your pencils and glue sticks can wait. This family is still on popsicle time.


If this post encouraged you, please pass it on. You might also like Birthday Musings From a Sappy Mom, Taste of Candy Land, Don’t Lie to Me, and On Dreams, Contentment and Spaghetti.

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Linking up with: The Better Mom, Titus 2sdays, Domestically Divine Tuesday, Living Well Wednesdays, Things I Can't Say, Grace at Home, Proverbs 31 Thursdays, and Faithfully Parenting Fridays.

How Big Is God?

I don’t get out much.

As a stay-at-home, work-from-home mom, my comfort zone is a 1,500-square foot ranch. The same painted walls, the same piles of dishes, and the same precious faces make up the scenery of my days.

My minivan travels to the grocery store, school, church, and occasionally a friend’s driveway for a play date. Adventure for me these days is a stroll through the outlet mall.

I’m okay with that. In this season of life, I like to focus inward—on my family, my faith, my casserole recipe book. I don’t suffer from wanderlust because there’s enough to juggle in my six-room home.

My world is small. So sometimes I forget that my God is big—really, really big.

“The LORD merely spoke, and the heavens were created. He breathed the word, and all the stars were born. He assigned the sea its boundaries and locked the oceans in vast reservoirs. Let the whole world fear the LORD, and let everyone stand in awe of him. For when he spoke, the world began! It appeared at his command,” (Psalm 33:6–9).

If God can create billions of stars with his breath, why do I doubt if he can handle my prayers? It’s easy to read ancient Bible stories like they’re fiction—tall tales, even. But these things actually happened. Just because we live in an era when miraculous signs aren’t commonplace doesn’t mean the same God who delivered them years ago isn’t still in charge. And still capable of blowing stars into the sky, healing a blind man, walking on water, or parting a raging sea.

Whether I’m asking God to relieve a migraine or to save a soul I love, I realized I’ve been timid—almost skeptical—in my requests both large and small, praying as though I didn’t really believe God was going to come through. Maybe it’s because I forgot he can.

He can.

Have you forgotten, too? Our God is huge and powerful and altogether capable of doing immeasurably more than all we could ask or imagine (Ephesians 3:20). What if we woke up every day expecting God to do great things?

You could argue we’d be disappointed. Just because God can doesn’t mean he will—at least not on our timetable. But if there’s one thing I know for certain about God, it’s that he is good. Our big God sees around every corner, knows every outcome, and therefore is a far better judge than I am about what prayers should be answered with a “yes.” The first step is to believe he is able.

My daughter sings a song in Sunday school that sums this up. She knows it as an obvious, foundational fact. I should, too.

My God is so big, so strong and so mighty, there’s nothing my God cannot do!


If this post encouraged you, please pass it on. You might also like Life Is a Highway, Whatever the New Year Brings, and God Doesn’t Ration Candy Bars.

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Linked up with: The Better Mom, Titus 2sdays, Domestically Divine Tuesday, Living Well Wednesdays, Grace at Home and Faithfully Parenting Fridays.

And now for some Liebster awards!

It’s time to pay it forward. Last week, I was thrilled to be honored with another Liebster award from Susan at A Vintage Farmwife. Liebster means "beloved" or "favorite" in German. The award is meant to acknowledge and promote the work of new bloggers (less than 200 followers). Winners are asked to pass along the award to five other bloggers to keep the happiness growing. A few months ago, my blogger friend Erica at Let Why Lead gave me my first Liebster, and I still owe a few payouts from that. So, here are eight up and coming blogs that have caught my eye in recent months—and I hope they’ll pique your interest, too.

Melissa at Joy in Every Season chronicles her family life in such beautiful pictures and down-to-earth, inviting words, I feel like I’m an old friend stopping by for a visit with every post.

Katie at Life With the Little Rs is a mom like many of us, blogging through the ups and downs of parenting yet always managing to land up. From her posts, I get the sense that Katie is committed to living out her values, and I admire that.

Remember life before kids? Carly of The Deckers gives us a taste of the pre-kid married life, always with a bit of humor, and she reminds me how we are all in this boat of Christian sisterhood together, whether married or single, with children or not, young and old alike. Good stuff. Check it out.

I found Kathy from Miss Grace Filled Life through one of my favorite link-ups, Grace at Home. She shared a recipe for how to make homemade southern sweet tea. Yum. I am a southern belle trapped in Wisconsin.

Bonnie at Bonn Bonn Boutique—I found Bonnie through Mentorsaurus, an exciting new social media site for connecting mentors with mentees. I’m a grammar buff, so this funny graphic spoke to me.

Becky at Just The Other Day—I like the concept behind her blog, which is “recalling the past to inspire the future.” Our daughters are the same age, so it’s always fun to read about parallel mommy adventures. And her name is Becky, which makes her cool to start with. Ha.

Sarah at Bloggling Brooks keeps an online praise journal. Isn’t that a great idea? I used to keep a notebook of answered prayers. Sarah’s blog makes me think I ought to pick up my praise pen again.

And finally, Kim at Too Darn Happy is one of my new favorites. I’m not sure if her blog qualifies as less than 200 followers, but she shares some good storytelling and encouragement for families, so I hope you’ll check her out.

Now these bloggers are invited to pass along the Liebster to five more up and coming blogs!