My friend Emily (aka DesignHER Momma) posted something on her blog that really intrigued me with a video about motherhood.  It’s not your typical “what to expect once the baby’s here” kind of thing.  They went and asked moms what they would tell themselves if they could go back before their first baby was born.

Here are the answers from a few moms:

And so I’m going back and having a little chat with that young, tired and lonely mama
and telling her a few things that I’ve learned along the way.

• Get dressed every day(or at least every other day).  You will feel better.  I promise.
• When you need a break, take it.
  Even if that means putting the baby in a safe place and walking outside for a few minutes.
• When you need it, ask for help.  There is always someone who can help you.
• It may take a while for you to fall in love with your child…but it will happen.
• It’s perfectly normal to feel like this.
• It’s ok to use anti-depressants if you need them.
• If you don’t remember every milestone, that’s ok.
  But take time to close your eyes and memorize the sounds, the smells.
  You’ll forget that faster than you think you will.
• Write, take pictures, journal, do whatever it takes to keep the memories…
  but don’t get so wrapped up in writing and picture-taking and journaling that you miss the moment.

I’m still working on some of those.  Aren’t you?

What would you have told yourself?
What would you tell new moms?

I would like to note that this video was made by Nummies, a company that makes nursing bras.
I was not, however, contacted by Nummies.  I just really liked the video and wanted to share it.

Lately I have been struggling with Christianity.  Not the Christ part so much as the “Christian” part.  Just this past week I saw two friends post similar things on Facebook, both referring to the fact that they hope that people don’t judge them and their faith based on the actions of other people who also claim to be Christian.

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A few weeks ago at church I choked up as we sang the words to “They Will Know That We Are Christians By Our Love“.

“We will work with each other, we will work side-by-side,
And we’ll guard each man’s dignity and save each man’s pride.
And they’ll know we are Christians by our love.”

Oh, how I want to sing that with conviction.
Oh, how I want Christians to be known by our love.
Oh, how I want to be known by the love that I share.

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I saw a tee shirt recently that read, “Lord, Save me from your followers”* and it cut me.
It cut deeply.
Mostly because it hit close to home.
And because I know the sentiment all too well.

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Then I read this by Amber at The Run-a-Muck.  And I came back and read it again later.  And then I came back and read it again.  Four times I clicked over there and read her words, felt her words, surrounded myself with what she was saying.  And I was reminded that the holy spirit didn’t stop inspiring words once the bible was written.

Amber so often bears her soul, vividly and honestly sharing with others what she has learned, what she is feeling, what God is doing in her life.   She tells her story about being a guest at a mosque, something so different from her norm…yet similar in so many ways.  As they are called to prayer, she says, “I had to breathe funny not to cry, not to feel overwhelming pain and honor and shame all at once.”

And that?  That is where I am.  That is who I am.  I want so badly, so very, very badly to love my faith with reckless abandon…but I can’t.  I am held back, reserved because of overwhelming pain and shame.  I don’t want to be ashamed.  I am not ashamed of my beliefs.  I am not ashamed of what it really means to be a Christian.  I am ashamed of what being a Christian has come to mean to so many outside the walls of the churches.

But mostly?  I am ashamed of myself.  I yearn for change within the Christian church.  I long for unity with other religions and beliefs.  And yet?  Like a middle schooler who watches another girl get picked on and does nothing to stop it…I watch.  And I grumble under my breath.  And I say that I don’t want to cause a stir.  And while waiting and watching, I stand idly by and see person after person driven away from the church(and by the church I mean as a whole, not my own personal church), and I say, “It sure is a pity that other people have run them off.  I’m glad I’m not like them.”

But I am.
By saying nothing, I am.

Christ stood up for others.
Christ consistently strove for unity and peace.
Christ celebrated differences while bringing people together.
(Just look at the disciples…what a motley crew they were!)

We’re not all the same, but that’s supposed to be the beauty of Christianity.
By definition, we’re supposed to love the differences because we are supposed to be like Christ,
who loved no matter what.

I, like so many, yearn for tradition and a sense of belonging.
And frequently in my desire to find that belonging,
I alienate anyone and anything different from me, from my beliefs.

But I’m supposed to love no matter what.

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I am not a perfect Christian.
I am not perfect in anyway.
But I strive, oh how I strive, to block out the noise…
To clear my mind…
To ask myself:
Am I doing what I should be?
What do I need to change?
How can I show love-true, unblemished, Godly love-to others?
I can’t do it on my own,
I know that much is true.

***

Oh God and Creator,
I want to be more.
I want to show more of your love.
I want to be more of your love.
I want to share more of your love.
I want to be more.
Help me to be more…
(even when I don’t want to)
(especially when I don’t want to).

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*I later found out that there is also a book by this title.  I haven’t read it.

We have friends who are leaving tomorrow to go overseas and be missionaries.
They are our age, and we share memories and friends from med school and residency.
They have five small children-the oldest is 8, the youngest is barely 3 months.
They have been planning this for months, years.
And tomorrow?
Tomorrow they will fly with 2 adults,
5 kids,
18 checked bags,
7 carry-on bags,
7 backpacks
and two strollers.

And you know what my thoughts are?
There’s no way I’d be able to handle that.

Their thoughts though?
Directly from an email I got today:

“We want our children to remember tomorrow fondly forever,
another milestone of God’s faithfulness to our family.
So please pray for JOY, pray for us to rest well,
pray for a smooth journey through customs with baggage and children.”

So if you could spare a few moments, could you please send out a prayer or two for this wonderful family.

And if prayers aren’t your thing…they also accept good vibes and positive energy.

I expected to cry when I took you to school the first day…but I didn’t.

I expected to tear up the second day when I dropped you off simply because you cried on Monday…but I didn’t.

I did not expect to have a catch in my throat when I pulled away from you this morning at the drop off line.

I did not expect to see you smiling and wildly waving goodbye, blowing one last kiss.

I did not expect to look in my sideview mirror and see you looking so grown up and so tiny all at once.

Objects in this mirror are closer than they appear.

Oh, how true.

Time?  Do me a favor and please slow down.

My big kids are at school and my littlest is babbling quietly in his bed.  Ahhh…the joys of school!

But I have to admit that as I sat down at my computer, I was overwhelmed with the desire to look at our pictures from this summer.  I have said before that July was probably my least inspired month of photography.  It was hot and I didn’t feel good.  But I’m glad that I kept on clicking, but I did get a few pictures that I really, really love.  But one of the things that I didn’t capture was our picnic.

Remember yesterday when I said some of my favorite pictures were the mental ones?  Yeah…I realized that I should write some of those down.  I want to remember it all, but I know I won’t.  So now…I share with you my mental picture of our picnic:

The kids begged all summer for a picnic, but it was just SO BLASTED HOT that I couldn’t make myself sit outside.  So I pulled out one of my winter tricks: we spread out a blanket in the living room and had an indoor picnic while basking in the sunshine coming through the windows.  After our wraps and chips, we watched the clouds through the big arching window and nibbled on strawberry Milano cookies and drank pink lemonade.  Life is sweet!

(And just because all that led me to another mental picture, you get a bonus “picture”.)

Not long after that day, we went to the beach.  On our way to the villa, we stopped to grab a few groceries.  I let each kid pick out their own snack.  Lydia went in search of “the cookies in the paper bag”.   She didn’t even care what kind.  Carter took 10 minutes to choose from the huge Pepperidge Farm selection they had and settled on the basic sugar cookie.

Sometimes I get annoyed with him because he can take forever to make a decision.  But that night we weren’t in a rush and I let him take his time.  Watching him glance back and forth from this package to that, watching the wheels turn in his head…I want to remember that.  Forever.

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Pepperidge Farms sent me free strawberry Milano cookies, which were delightful.  They filled my tummy, but not my brain.  The opinions you see above are completely my own unbiased opinions.