Most days, well everyday, if Im really being honest, I feel completely incapable. I cannot get everything done of which is expected of me. The dishes, the looming laundry, the beds getting made up, the floors which seem to dirty themselves. The list is ever growing. The house seems daunting. It is always dirty, there is always something that needs to be done. I sacrifice the time to homeschool, but feel guilty because the bathroom rugs didnt get shaken out. What is this life really about? Finally I came to my knees. I broke down in my bathroom, palms against the walls holding myself up as I sobbed uncontrollably. I prayed over and over again, What is the point?! I will never get it done, more will always be expected, and I will never do it right. What is the point? Quickly I grabbed a wet wipe and vigorously started cleaning the sink. I got it clean, then had to do it again to wipe off my mascura stained tears away. I had just been confronted by someone with my poor house keeping skills. Didnt they know? How could they not know? They said "With a little effort you could keep the house and cars clean." So matter of factly. So simply. Just a little effort. I turned to the shower and ripped the curtains back, got on my knees and started scrubbing the tub. Just a little effort?! I have put all of my strength into being a homemaker. To cleaning, to being a mother, to taking care of my husband. It drains all my strength from me. I have premature arthritis because of it. The tears kept coming, I was having a hard time keeping quiet so no one would know that mommy was breaking down in the bathroom, loosing her mind. I prayed again, harshly, God, Whats the point?! Why even try?! Why have you called me to do this if everyone thinks I could be doing more. No one sees all that I do. No one gives me credit for doing the things that zaps all my strength. My stomach ached. All I have wanted was even on my worst days, when nothing got done, when no one was dressed and the dishes piled in the sink, to say, "I'm proud of you". I'm so tired of having to earn other people's pride and respect, and teetering on the edge of falling over with one little thing being wrong.
"Oh, God, Daddy, why cant I do anything right? Why did you only give me two hands?"

This all happened a few days ago, and the feelings are still there, strong. But I have spent a lot of time with Jesus. Maybe the only reason why I cannot do anything right is so I will constantly need God's Grace, like oxygen. Maybe the reason why is so that in all my efforts, few and as little as they amount to, is to give God the glory.

Im sure I am not the only mother who has broken down in the bathroom, drowning in everything. That fact alone gives me hope, and reminds me that in everything I do, I do for the glory of God. And he rewards what is done in secret.

let go

I wish you longed for here and now
for what you have and for me
How can we move forward
If you are looking back,
trying to drag along the past too?
Is this really necessary
really healthy for us?
Why cant I be all you want
why do you have to
want them too?
sometimes in life you have to
let go of the memories
let the people go.
sometimes thats what you have to do
in order to grow up
in order to go forward.
it hurts me to see you try to bring them along,
it makes me feel like im not enough,
like I didnt turn out to be like you thought Id be.
I pray that you will soon see
How we cant go forward,
until you let go.

Evangelist Aiden

Recently a muslim family filled with young boys moved in the apartment next to us. These people have driven me crazy from day one. They apparently have no clue how to use their "inside voices", and I have thought that some may have hearing problems based on how loud they play their music and tv. They have made night time miserable, because they are so noisy it makes it very hard for me and Joe to sleep, since our room is connected to their living room. I have harbored very ill thought towards this family in my heart, wishing that they would leave as fast as they moved in. No one in the family speaks English except for the mother and father, who speak very little. Today was a nice day (Praise God!) so me, Aiden and Madeline spend practically all day outside. When the boys (about 4 or 5 all together) came zooming by on their bicycles, Aiden proceeded to stop them and ask them to play with him. I stood at the kitchen sink keeping an eye on the situation. After a few short seconds, it was very apparent to me that these children did not know any English, but it didnt bother Aiden at all, because he just kept babbling on and on, explaining his swing set, and how fast he can go on his bike. After a while, I brought Aiden inside and gave him a New Testament to give to the boys. Aiden did not like this idea at first, but I shared with him that we needed to share the love of Jesus with these boys, because they probably didnt know that Jesus loved them. Aiden looked at me with innocent surprise, how could anyone not know that Jesus loves them?! After that it was Aidens mission to get this Bible into these boys hands. He waited patiently for the boys to ride back by on their bikes while I silently watched from inside. Aiden saw me peeping at him and motioned a thumbs up at me. He apparently thought that his mom was so wonderful as to think to give these children a Bible, but what he didnt know is that he, at only 4 years old, just taught his mom a valuable lesson. As I had stood their earlier listening to Aiden interact with these young muslim children I was so convicted of my ill content towards them. These are lost children, and instead of opening my neighborly (and christian!) heart, I was wishing they would go away. Shame on me!
Soon I heard one boy ride back by and Aiden stopped him by yelling quite loudly "Jesus loves you!". The boy stopped his bike and Aiden thrust the small green New Testament in his hands. The child had no idea what to do with it so he looked it over and tried to give it back to Aiden. Aiden pushed it back into the boys chest and exclaimed "No, you keep it! Jesus loves you!". After some convincing the boy finally rode off with the Bible in tow. Not shortly afterwards, all the boys came back, and Aiden gathered them around the best he could, stood up on one of the back porch stairs and sang "Jesus loves me" to the boys, and their father who had joined them. How brave my small little four year old was! Oh, to have the courage to stand and sing the gospel like a child! Finally the New Testament ended up in the father's back pocket after being passed around the group. I pray that it will be opened and read from soon.
After all was said and done, I pulled Aiden into my arms and told him I was so proud and happy that he shared the love of Jesus with that family. And so sincerely and innocently, his little blue eyes looked into mine and he said, "Mommy, is God happy?"

Yes baby, yes He sure is.

Contentment

In my Bible Study at church, we are studying Jerry Bridges "The Practice of Godliness", and this weeks chapters focused on Contentment and Thankfullness. I guess I should say that I have really struggled with both these issues. My husband has been working alot (praise God for work!) but I feel like an exhausted single parent. I have been struggleing to balance the house, the children, and trying to live life as normally as possible. I feel like Im doing everything with one arm missing. On top of that, when I go to my Mommy and Me workout class I am confronted with everything I dont have. Everywhere I look, I see moms who (I feel like) have it all. The awesome double seat strollers, the latest sippy cups, the matching diaper bags and purses, the cool snack holders that let the kids get the snacks, but the snacks dont fall out. They all have the latest organic healthy snack foods for their kids, while mine are still eating the stale triscuits that we got for free from our apartments food line. I have to fight the urge to be embarassed of my childrens clothes when I take them to church, because they are not clothes from The Childrens Place, Gymboree, or Babies-R-Us. As for me, I am clad in worn used clothing from my mom or various (generous!) friends. The Mall? Whats that? Instead of adorable little ballet type shoes that are in style now, my feet are sporting worn out used-to-be-white tennis shoes my mom gave me. I often harbor the thought that I am the only 22 year old mom in the world actually looks like a mom of 40. Oh, do I hear violins playing a song just for me? I could probably spend my whole blog complaining about all the things I can point out thats wrong with my life. So as you can see, contentment and thankfullness are a real struggling point in my life. But as I look back over my life, I see it all very differently. I see where me and my son used to be. I see how God literally spared me from death numerous times. I see how God brought to me and my son a loving, Godly husband and father. I see how he took us from having literally no food, to a pantry full of it. I see how God took me out of the pits of hell, to the knowledge of getting to spend eternity with Him. He grabbed me out of deaths hands, and placed me at His table. And oh, how I do not deserve any of that!!! So, in light of all of that, suddenly the appeal of the latest sippy cup looses its luster. And, thankyou God for giving me the wonderful women in my small group who let me know generously that I am not alone in the place that I am at.

Of Mice and Men

I read John Steinbeck's "Of Mice and Men" a few weeks ago. It only took me one day to read, but I have to say, when I was finished reading it I had a knot in the pit of my stomach. Now I am not against good literature at all by any means. I thoroughly enjoyed "Grapes of Wrath" and other classic novels. But the whole thought that was centered around Of Mice and Men was disturbing. You may not agree with me, and thats ok, because this is MY blog. nah nah nah nah naaaah nah. I shared my opinion with my best friend, Kristen (who is an english major..so you probably can already guess her response). She promptly said (and im paraphrasing here) "Megan, you cant write turn of the century books that want to change the course of history by being nice." And yes, she is right. Do I like fluffy, mamsey-pansey stories that lift my heart right out of my chest? Maybe. Should I be looked down on because of that? Possibly. But in case no one was paying attention, I did not say that I didnt like Of Mice and Men. All I said was that it disturbed me. As I think it should disturb any normal human, in my opinion. But it was a great book, though I would not hold it in such high regards as Grapes of Wrath. John Steinbecks use of dynamic detail is not very present in Of Mice and Men, therefore I do have to hold it in slightly lesser standing. But the thing is, its very real. This is a story that you can see really happening in our nations history. Just two men, trying to make it through the "hard times". We have no clue where they came from or how they really ended up together, but what an outlook on our relationships today. Oh, to be a writer like John Steinbeck! I can be honest, I will never make it that far I'm sure. All I can write is what I can write, and thats all there is to it. But I do reccomend Of Mice and Men to anyone who wants to get a look into what a world looks like without Christ in it.

Our Fish

While at Petco one day my son fell in love with some goldfish. Since they were only 13 cents I had the lady get out two for us-one for my son and the other for my daughter. My son's fish is gold and black, and sports a perfect Hitler mustache right across his upper lip. Since my husband is a painter, I named one fish Sherwin, and the other Williams- Much to my husbands horror, as he is a strict Porter Paints man. Anyways, Sherwin and Williams are very stupid goldfish. Big surprise. I noticed this the first time I fed them. I put the flakes in, but they didnt budge. They refused to come to the top of the water to get the food, though they were obviously hungry. Instead, they waited for the flakes to get water-logged and then sink down to the bottom of the bowl. Now I gag everytime I feed them, because the bottom of the bowl is filled with fish poopy and who knows what else and the food gets mixed in with all that-AND THE FISH EAT IT! How gross!!!! If only theyd go to the top of the bowl! I myself have never eaten fish food, but I imagine it tastes a lot better crispy than soggy and mixed with fish droppings. But as I sit and think about these fish I wonder how many times I act like them in my life. How many times have I missed what God has given me because I refuse to venture to the top of my bowl? How many times have I eaten poop-laden leftovers when I could have eaten straight from the Master's hand?
Now instead of grumbling about how stupid and gross these fish are everytime I feed them, I am instead humbled as God reminds me that sometimes these fish and I arents that different after all. Even though I have never actually eaten poopy fish food.

Here I am

The first time I heard about blogging I snorted and smirked "What else are they going to come up with?". So, Ladies and Gentlemen, I sit in front of my computer screen very humbled, writing my very first blog. I have to admit the very thing I scoffed is now luring me in, but I still hold to my very strong opinion that "blog" is a stupid word. I hate it even more than I hate the word "municipal", but not as much as I hate the phrase "slicker than snot". With that being said, lets start with proper intros. I am Megan, and last august my husband, children and I moved to Louisville, KY so my husband can finish his undergraduate at Boyce College and then move on to the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary after that. I say that all while puffing out my chest and stroking my all wise white beard. Actually, Joe-my hubby- is only able to take two classes a semester, so by the time he is done with school I probably will have a beard. I guess I take some of the blame for that though. Im kinda fond of eating. Therefore said hubby has to make a living. I make a living by homeschooling my oldest, keeping the youngest out of the trash, and occasionally checking in on our now hybernating turtle. Who knew my life could be so busy! Oh, I forgot to mention that I am also the dish-washer, counter-wiper, floor-sweeper, laundry-folder, hynie-wiper, diaper-changer, bed-maker, puke-cleaner, koolaid-maker, and every other -ener and -uper you can name. Instead of a revolver in my holster I carry a bottle of long-range shooting Lysol. Im a cowboy babaay. Saving my household from unwanted varmit germs and pesky dust bunnies. So, as I conclude ny first..-yuck-..BLOG.., I invite you to enjoy the all-time thrilling wild ride of my life filled with suspence, action, and good ole slap-yur-knee comedy. I know bow and exit stage right.