Surprised by Motherhood. {Yeah, me too.}

Posted on March 31, 2014 by Meredith Bernard under Motherhood, Perfectly Imperfect

I have a new soul-sister-soul-mama friend I’ve never met. Sounds odd, I suppose. She has put into words what I’ve felt in so many ways on so many days as both a motherless mother and a new mama. Her book “Surprised by Motherhood” is speaking to me. From the inside out. In a oh-so-good kind of way that has me wanting the pages to go on and on. And that says a lot for me.

As much as I like to read, I find very little time and motivation to do so. Don’t get me wrong, I have a stack of books a mile high. Toppling over bedside my reading-praying-God-chair in the living room…spilling over next to my bed and onto my bed and onto my head some nights, books that were started and never finished. Not so with this book. I devoured it. And it left me hungry for more. That’s some good eats right there.

Lisa-Jo Baker is more than likable, she’s relatable in a way that feels as if she’s reading and writing your own story, not just hers. As a daughter. As a mother. Even if your life story is completely different than hers, it is also completely the same.

The words on these pages have breathed life into my desperate soul as a mother learning to be a mother after leaving the corporate world. I knew how to be a working mom, but learning to be an ever-present mom has been challenging. Lisa-Jo’s way of describing her own experiences as a mother through several life-transitions have been comforting for this mama in transition. And we can all say amen to another sister sharing our struggles. Eh? That’s what Lisa-Jo would say. I believe it must be a saying from her native, South Africa, and I like it. I believe our northern friends do that in Canada, too…eh? I digress.

There are too many hi-lited words and paragraphs and even pages to mention. I really just wanted to hi-lite the entire book, but though that may be a bit redundant. And over zealous. But if it made any of the words sink in enough that I would go back and let them give me life again when I was ready to turn in my resignation letter as full-time mom, then it may be worth it. There’s your warning…buy this book along with a pack of hi-liters. They will both be your new best friends, along with Lisa-Jo.

I’ve always tried to keep it real here in my piece of blog land. I love the transparency I find on the other side of this computer screen and may clam up if you talk to me about my blog in real life. Maybe because it’s the realest real me and it’s a lot easier to unleash the real me here than there in front of you, face-to-face. Either way, there were a couple of chapters in this book that dug into my core. Like as a knife digs into that jar of peanut butter and comes out sweeter than when it entered. It’s still sharp, but sweet and spreadable.

I came away realizing I have my own anger issues to deal with. As Lisa-Jo said, ”Sometimes you don’t realize you have a temper until you have kids.” Ahem, yeah, that may be an understatement for me some days. And this, “There is no rage like the exhausted rage of motherhood.” Ouch. But misery is certainly better with company, so it was like a breath of fresh air to know I am not alone on those exhausted days when I lose my temper. And I lose it more than once. And then Lisa-Jo tells about becoming determined to mother deliberately and she began to write a new story about her son in her heart and in his life and God graced her and him with a peace and relationship she couldn’t have imagined in those early days. The words from that chapter of her book and life gave me a renewed hope as I fight for these children God gave me and am learning to mother intentionally. It’s a battle for their souls and mine. A war against impatience and endless bottom wiping. A fight against a hunger for your alone time and their hunger for you. And it’s a fight worth fighting and letting God help you win together.

If it’s not obvious, I’m a fan of both Lisa-Jo and these pages that I’m so glad she was brave enough to write. She says we are all brave as mothers. She is correct, isn’t she? This woman that grew up in South Africa and swore off motherhood after her mother died is now speaking to mother’s hearts all over the world about the glory and guts involved in being a mother. It’s not all good, but it’s not all bad, either. Eh? Yeah, I’ve been surprised by motherhood in a lot of ways, too. And the best is yet to come, I’m sure.

You can get your own copy of this pretty little book right here or in your favorite bookstore this week. I promise it will be worth giving up a cup or two of coffee this week if that’s what it takes to get it in your hands. The aroma will be stronger and last longer than that cup of coffee and will awaken your soul in the most beautiful way. Enjoy your reading! Come back and let me know what you think and make sure to leave a review of your own on Amazon. It’s time to take make our voice known. The brave ones.

Graciously,
Meredith

Five Minute Friday | {Mighty}

Posted on March 27, 2014 by Meredith Bernard under Daily Walk, Faith, Five Minute Friday, Perfectly Imperfect

Here we are again…another Five Minute Friday with Lisa-Jo Baker and the gang. She prompts, we write. Five minutes (give or take…give a little for me usually), real, raw words. Short. Sweet. Hopefully. 😉 Enjoy!

{mighty}

Big word, mighty is. Well, not a really big word, but it means big. Right?

Powerful. Strong. Brave. Willing. Mighty.

Well tonight I don’t feel very powerful. strong. brave. willing. or mighty.

Sometimes we have minutes, days, weeks, years that suck the life right out of us and leave us anything but mighty. Much less than mighty.

And then the thought of the Mighty One comes to mind.

The One who gave me this life. To live free.

He never meant it to be about me. My wants. My needs. My desires. My might.

He gave me this life to be about Him. His will. His love. His ways. His Might.

Jesus died in humility so that in three days His Might would be revealed and never questioned again.

When He died and rose again, His Might took over for my failings. As a person. As a parent. As a wife. As a friend.

In His Might, I can prevail. Not because I am. Because He is. The Great I Am.

No matter what gives you the thought you are un-mighty today, there is One whose Might can fill that void.

It’s not up to us to be what He wants to be for us. What He’s already proved He can do in us. If we let Him.

We have a mighty call alright. To stop the fight and give into His Might.

Your Mighty Mess,
Meredith

And if you have a mother, know a mother or “am” a mother…don’t miss Lisa-Jo’s book “Surprised by Motherhood.” I’ll never be the same for reading it. And I’ll recommend it to every woman I know. Mother or not. Get it here now. Go. Now. You’ll be sending me chocolate because you love it that much. (Vanilla Lindt preferred. Thanks!)

All she had.

Posted on February 12, 2014 by Meredith Bernard under Daily Walk, Faith, Motherhood

The smell of burnt mulling spices woke me. The first time it happened, I sat bolt upright in bed and sniffed all over the house until I found the culprit. We heat these four log walls and six log rooms of our home with a wood stove. It’s the driest form of heat imaginable, but it’s heat and it’s warm and I am thankful for it. I put a pot of water on the stove to put humidity back into the air and like to scent it with spices. But when the water evaporates it leaves charred spices to wake me up in the middle of the night. Never the middle of the day. Always the middle of the night.

As I drug my sleep walking self to re-fill the pot, I felt the pull of my writing chair. And my computer. And my dimly lit living room in the quiet and the still. And the warmth this night before snowmageddon visits our little spot of the earth.

The talk of a foot of snow is paralyzing me before it even gets here. And at the reminder before bed from my farmer man that a power outage will be certain instead of even probable, my childlike excitement left. Like the water evaporated from the stove pot, my anticipation for this snow I’ve been longing to see left my soul.

I can do without a lot…but power is not my first or even last choice. No power and two children and four cold dogs that will want to be inside all together with no Tom and Jerry or news or water is not my idea of fun.

“Did you buy more kerosene for the oil lamps?” No, I didn’t think about that from the last time we needed them. I don’t think about things until they happen. And it is needed. Right then. Not a forethought but an afterhought and then a “should have” thought. That’s how my over-crowded and scattered brain tends to work. In reaction mode, not preparation mode. That would be too normal and sane and wise for me.

I’m giving all I have and some days it isn’t even a drop in the bucket of what they need. What I need. What He needs from me. But it’s all I have. Or is it? Am I really giving all I have? Can I say I gave all I had?

There was a woman once who gave the least of anyone, but gave more than everyone. And Jesus credited it to her as Righteousness. Holiness. She gave all. she. had. And in the worlds eyes it was NOTHING. USELESS. But in the eyes of the One she gave it to, it was worth more than all of the others gifts put together.

And there was another woman that did this unabashedly crazy thing one time long ago. She had a jar of the most expensive oil and she poured it all out. To the last drop. She poured it out in front of everyone, over the head of her Master and they called her crazy. And he called her “wonderfully significant” and promised that her story would be told for generations to come. Forever etched in the Word for all who ever read it and tell it to read and be told.

Who in their right mind would waste their most expensive treasure in such a way? I’ll tell you who.

A woman fully immersed in her own depravity and fully covered by Grace and she knew it. And she knew the One that covered her and would soon be covered with the blood that made that Grace possible was for a moment covered with all she had to offer. The best she had to offer.

He doesn’t want part of us, he wants all of us. He doesn’t need a piece of us, He needs all of us.

Your all and my all are different. They may look very different to the world, but God knows. He sees. He is the Provider, after all. He knows what we have to give and He knows the heart by which we give through.

I can’t give anything I don’t own. I can’t give money I don’t have. Time I won’t make. Treasure I don’t possess. I get that. We can only give from what we have. And it’s different for everyone.

He knows when we are holding back and He knows why. He knows the worry and the fear. And He covers us with Grace regardless. But oh how He must delight when He sees one give. her. all. How the angels must dance and sing when a daughter is giving her all to her King and blessing Him through it.

And what I have to give is in direct proportion to what is in me. You can’t get water from a pot on a stove that has all evaporated. We must take in if we will have anything left to take out. We have to fill up to pour out.

And when we give it all we have He is always faithful and just to fill us back up if we come back to Him for more. Yes, I know that. I’ve lived it. Living it now.

When we give all we have to Him, people notice. They judge. They mock.

Fear drives contempt.

They recognize a difference and the prey on it. They may even desire to give themselves, but they don’t know how. They can’t give what they don’t have.

As a mom in the trenches of dirty diapers and toddler bottoms needing wiping. every. single. hour. Dishes overflowing and no energy to wash them, let alone dry and put them away. Clothes mildewing in wash you forgot about yesterday and three more loads needing to wash today. Dried up marshmallows, gummy wrappers and hidden puddles of sticky Icee on your floors. Yes, that’s my reality. ever. single. day.

What do I have to give? It’s not much some days. It’s not expensive oil. It’s not even always monetary. It’s my heart. My trust. Mine and your dependence on our Life source to give us the strength to make it one more day. One more hour. One more second. In the trenches.

And the sweet reward is peace. In the midst of the battle, even in the trench, there is peace.

Jesus just wants me. You. Us. Our devotion. Our attention, when He can get it. Our love.

And in return we find the strength to wipe another bottom. Play another round of tea time with our little girl. Read the same book in the same day for the 30th time with the same amount of inflection as the first to our little boy. Wash that next load of clothes. Make another lunch for our man. Come up with yet another hamburger meal for our family’s supper. Advise your friend on matters you don’t feel qualified, but so glad she does and that she comes to you for help.

The woman who laid her soul on the temple table not knowing where tomorrow’s grocery money would come from. The woman who poured her most precious possession all over her Master and felt no shame or regret. Because it was all she had and in this Man was all. she. had.

Lord, that we would have the same love for You. That we would give you all we have out of a heart that could not think of doing anything less. Even when all we have is little. Little is much when it comes to giving God all we have. And we may never know what our little is doing this side of Heaven. But God knows and is able to do so much more than we could ever imagine.

Take heart. God knows and sees and loves your heart of sacrifice. He wants all we have and he will give us what we need to keep giving it all we have. For Him. For our families. For one another. I’m with you Sister and so is He.

Graciously,
Meredith