One Person

One person can change the world. Look at religion and how many people have influenced others. Or now-a-days, look at sports or movie stars (society has really fallen short these last fifty years when it comes to people to look up to). Who has influenced you? Who do you look up to? When asked this question, most people answer, their Mom or Dad. Out of all the people in the world, parents are the most influential. That being said, what kind of an example are we giving our children?

Back when Hesston was around a year and a half and really began to want my attention, I caught myself looking at my phone, reading, texting, checking Facebook, scanning Pinterest, you know, checking out all the stuff going on in the world, doing everything but engaging my son. He began to climb on my lap and watch me use my phone. Then he started trying to navigate the screens like I did. Of course, this was a no-no, and I tried to teach him to keep his hands off “my phone aka my lifeline,” but kids are sponges, and they do what we teach them to do, mostly by our example (our words and actions). It was no wonder he started reaching for my phone, wanting to play with it instead of his toys. That’s what I did.

I decided to put the phone down and just count how many times I reached for it within the next ten minutes. I thought it would be once or maybe twice. Within the first minute, I had reached for my phone three times. That’s three times more than I thought I would in the whole ten minutes. Within five minutes I had reached for it so many times that I’d lost count. And why? Because my mind wasn’t focused on the task in front of me. Because all I could think about was what I was missing while I sat there and watched my son play.

It was in that thought when my mind shifted, and I began to think about everything I was missing right in front of me: a life that I’d never get back, time I could never get back, time that was much more precious and important with my son than what was going on in the world. I was missing out on my son’s life. I was missing out on his childhood. I was missing out on being an active participant…his mother. I had failed. And I knew it.

Shocked, and a little numb by my realization, I put my phone away. I started to participate. It was hard at first. I kept catching myself yawning, feeling tired or bored. I had to consciously engage my mind in his playtime, or else I found myself reaching for the phone. But I kept choosing my son and our relationship over another Pinterest post, over another Facebook feed. I chose my son’s life over everything else, and that’s when we really became a family. I’m so thankful I did, because four years later, I find myself choosing him and his little brother, over and over again.

It’s hard, even still, I’m not going to lie. Because I’m social, I’m creative, I want to be a part of something more. But I need to do all that when the time is right. And I have determined that my relationship with my children is more important that other people right now. Because I feel like the role as a mother is more important than anything else. And I am so abundantly blessed to be a mom, who gets to stay at home. Why waste it? Why waste what so many other women wish they could have? 

I refuse to waste my time. And even though playing with my kids may seem like a waste of time some days, it is the single, greatest thing I can do, because I am telling them that they’re worth my time. That they’re important. That I love them. And they need that.

In a world where everyone tells you you’re not good enough, you’re stupid, you’re slow, you’re insignificant, I want to be the person in the back of my child’s head showing and telling him he’s incredible beyond imagination. That he can do anything he sets his mind too. That he can change the world. And I feel like I am changing the world, just by being a good mom, because I feel like it all starts at home, as simple as that sounds.

Motherhood is the most important role a woman can play. Is it any wonder that Satan tries to tear motherhood to pieces? Through the media? Through women’s rights? Through sexism? Through rape and pornography? No. It’s no surprise. Because as a mother, we literally have more power and influence on the world than anyone else. We make all the difference in our children’s lives. We determine whether they succeed or fail. As such, we determine whether the world succeeds or fails. What a great responsibility.

If children don’t feel love and security, what do they feel? And what kind of an affect will that have on them later in life? What kind of collective affect is that already having on our society? Our society is in an uproar because people have forgotten who they are. They’ve never been taught. People have never been taught why they’re here. They’ve never felt true love. They feel like they don’t belong. Hence, what do they do? They scramble around life, trying to figure out the most basic answers to these questions, and usually end up getting them wrong, because there’s nobody to guide them. No loving hand to direct their path. No kind words of reassurance when they fall down or make mistakes.

So I ask, what role do we have as mothers? A very important one. Important enough that it's hard to put into words. Why are we here? What is our mission, or role in this life? Do we even know the answer to those questions? If we don’t, how can we find them? How can we help our children know who they are and why they’re here?

As parents, we are the ultimate teachers. It’s a inordinate responsibility. How we use our time is how our children will use their time. We are their example. How can we do our best to be an example to our children? How can we do more than just the minimum? Do we wake up in the morning, turn on the TV and leave it on for most of the day? Do we use the television as a babysitter? Do we use the iPad, our phones, smart watches, as the new parent, the new teacher? Do we come home from work and sit down on the sofa and tune out? Do we open our laptops, our phones, and stare at the screen instead of at our children? What are we telling our children when we do this? What are we telling each other (as a couple)? Yes, I know that there will be hard days, and sometimes turning on the TV, or giving our children a device is the best option (so we don’t yell or get upset). But is that every day? All day?

I know this is probably an exaggeration, but it can turn into that. Just like it did with me, when I started counting how many times I reached for my phone within five minutes. And it started as an innocent gesture when Hesston was an infant. I would read as he nursed. Read as he slept in my arms. Read as he took a nap. And then it bloomed into needing to have it in front of my face all the time, without me even realizing it.

It is good to do these checks. It is good to take inventory of our lives. I love my phone and technology, so I’m not saying throw it away. I’m saying, use it in moderation. Because we, as moms, are determining not only the future of our children, but also the future of the world. Sure, they have their choices, but we’re the example. If they’ve seen us be on our phones/computers/watching TV, what choice do you think they’re going to make when they get home from college? When they get home from work? And think of all that extra time that they could be creating or doing something amazing. Doing something bigger than themselves. Changing the world.

Media is an escape. What are we trying to escape from? Are our lives really that boring, that mundane, that we can’t create our own adventure within them?

It’s also inspiration. Are we so inspired that we just need to keep getting more? More ideas, more words, more images? Is it the creativity inside us that’s crying to get out?

Use that creativity with your children. Teach them to foster and nurture their own. Have them write a story from their imagination, you’ll probably be surprised with what they have inside their head.

Have them sing a song that they make up-we call this “jamming out”.

Have them dance to one of their favorite tunes.

Have them draw a picture of the people they love.

Go outside and explore the world.

Build that block tower.

Race those play cars.

Play dress up.

Then when the day is done, and the littles are off dreaming of all the adventures you shared, create your own worlds on paper, or share someone else’s.

These young years may be hard, but they’re short. Too soon, you’ll have a whole day to yourself. Too soon you won’t have kids to pick up from school, practice, a friend’s house. Too soon, you’ll look back and ask yourself what you did in all those years. Did you waste it by being lost in other people’s lives? Or did you grab your life’s reins and take off? What memories are you going to hold onto when you’re older? What experiences will get you through the hard times? Create them now, so you can enjoy them both now and later. And the ones you create will last a lifetime and beyond. Isn’t that incentive enough?

Bare Minimum

Why do we only do the bare minimum? The essential? Why don’t we do more than just what is required of us? And why do we sometimes not even do that? Why is there a minimum? Do we naturally set lower expectations than what we’re capable of?

We have minimum wage. Minimum work requirements. Minimum hiring requirements. Minimum speed (that one doesn’t usually seem to be a problem, since most of us like to go fast). But you get my drift. We contribute the minimum and feel like we’ve done a job well-done. When in reality, we’ve done just enough.

My question is why?

Why do we let ourselves fall short? Why do we allow our lives, our potential to be wasted? Are we really that far from deity that we can’t remember why we’re here? What we are capable of? What our potential is? Are we just too lazy? Or are we too busy?

As I look back on my day, I see all the things I’ve gotten done. All the items I’ve checked off my to do list. But there are at least double the items I didn’t have on my list, and still got done. It’s only on my lazy days that I do the minimum, which I hate to admit, does come more often than I’d like. But why do I need to set a to do list in the first place? Can’t I just see what needs to be done, and then do it? Or am I so distracted that I can’t even see those things?

As I was getting up to take care of my sick infant, I thought about this phenomenon that we’ve limited ourselves to just doing the bare minimum when it comes to doing something that we either don’t really want to be doing, don’t enjoy, or feel like we have to do because it is required, either to survive, or to maintain a status of something we want.

For example, my husband and I have been married for 10 years. In those 10 years, we have established different parameters that we need to make ourselves and each other happy. For example: my husband likes it when I welcome him with a smile and hug when he gets home from work each day. Simple. Easy. And I like it when he is employed and supports our family. Simple. Easy. So you see, we have these base ideas, or requirements that seem like common sense, but can sometimes set the bar too low.

Now, my husband is amazing, and literally only requires sleep, some words of affirmation, and physical touch. And as for me, I feel like he does such a great job with providing for us, that he doesn’t need to do more. But because both of us love each other so much and want our relationship to not only survive, but to thrive, we go above and beyond what is required. Like, my husband doesn’t expect me to do dishes every day, but I do. My husband doesn’t expect a clean house, but I do (this is how I show him I love him-even though he really could care less…hmmm…makes me want to see how messy things could get. Just kidding). Ted comes home happy, ready to scoop up our boys in his arms and play. Everyone loves when daddy gets home, because daddy’s fresh. Daddy’s happy. He has energy. Usually by that time of day, mom has run around and played so much her tank is on empty, and there’s lots of clean up before the end of the day. But back to my point, why do we contribute more than just what is required to our relationship? Answer: because we want to it work, and we want it to thrive. So, why don’t we apply that same principle to the rest of our lives? And what if we did? Do you? And if you do, what kind of success do you see? How can we be more than just what is required of us? The bare minimum?

Hopeless

As I was watching the new Moana Disney movie with my 4 year old yesterday, I found myself crying. I cried at when the grandma died. When she came back as a stingray to guide her granddaughter, and then as a spirit to help her granddaughter achieve her purpose in life. It was quite the emotional day for me, and no, I don’t have to be pregnant to cry during Disney movies, I just love them. But as I was watching the movie, I kept thinking to myself:

-Wouldn’t that be nice to have that kind of inspiration?

-Wouldn’t that be nice to have that kind of help when life knocks you down?

-Wouldn’t that be nice to have someone there for you when you needed someone the most?

It was kind of depressing…thinking that nobody is there when I need them. So, I started to think of my life, and who has been there to pick me up, to help me through the hard times, to tell me that everything is going to be okay when I feel like it isn’t. Thankfully, I am surrounded by people who love and support me, most especially my husband. But there have been times when I had to go through a trial alone, without the help of friends of family. I had to fight my own demons. It was hard, lonely, but it was also a testimony of how strong I was on the inside. Under all the mush and gush, there really is a backbone.

Then, I realized I was never completely alone. Even though I felt alone, there was always someone waiting, just waiting for me to ask for help. And that person is Jesus Christ. I don’t have to fight demons by myself. That even though people around me can’t help sometimes, there’s always One who can. And that brought a deep peace and comfort to my soul. For, no matter what I’m going through, I know that someone has already went through the same pain, the same trial, the same temptation, and came out on the other side alive. Not only alive, but much better because of it. That knowledge gives me hope. Hope that no matter what trial I might face, I can and will be able to make it through. Someone’s always by my side, even if I can’t see Him. Our Heavenly Father loves us so much, He sent His Only Begotten Son, from His own side, to live and suffer through the atonement, so we can always have someone by our side.

The harder the trial, the closer we get to Christ, because we learn the pain He went through. We feel the aching, the longing, the loneliness. Then we feel the love, compassion, peace, and wholeness, as we remember Christ, and allow Him into our lives. John 3:16, For God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life. What an amazing blessing and promise. A promise that brings bright hope into a life of despair. What helps you through trials? What brings you peace?

It's Almost Here!

One of my stories is being featured in this inspiring book. Can't wait for next month!

http://www.100momsonejourney.com/

Choose an animal. Write about it.

The road is as black as the hair on my leg; hot, uncrossable. I place my right paw next to the heated yellow line, feel the burn through my skin, pull back. How am I supposed to get my family across this road without getting splattered onto the boiling pavement?

My babies jump behind me, their white lined tails high in the air. Their ebony eyes wide, the matching hair on their backs risen. The growl coming from the zooming engines scare them, make them almost impossible to contain. Not only does the sound send chills through the air, the smoky, choking and acidic smell, causes our muscles to tighten, our minds to jumble.

I listen to the growls, try to discern a break in their rhythmic churning. The ground vibrates under my feet as another one passes. The rush of wind slaps me in the face, sending me back into the huddled group of my babies. They squeal and scatter.

I motion for them to come back together, signal to move forward, onto the road. They follow with blind faith.

A loud blare booms through the valley. The sound frightens my babies, but I keep running forward, hoping they are as close behind. I can’t glance back and check, I must keep my eyes on the spot just ahead. If I don’t, the straight line I intended to make will become a zigzag, and more time on the road, means more time for death.  

A screech of rubber across asphalt. Wind rushing over, then pulling up and under, lifting my body with the power of its momentum. Peddles kick up and hit me in the side, causing instant pain. I command my body to keep moving, to keep going. If I keep going, so will my babies.

A shadow passes overhead, then sunlight returns. My eyes try to shift from the sudden change, but they’ve become blurry. I take a deep breath of air, smelling for grass to guide my way. But it’s overpowered by the smell of burned rubber and exhaust.

My babies bump into me, their tiny bleats of fear pushing me into action. I spur my muscles forward. After an agonizing, long second, my feet hit the soft grasses on the other side. My babies’ feet follow. I try to count their padding, but its drowned out by the pounding of my heart.

I quickly check them, make sure they’ve made it across. They have. We’ve made it, by some stroke of luck.

Taking the fastest path along the tree line, I direct my feet toward our destination: life giving water.

Can you guess which animal I am?