Tag Archives: motherhood

“Grab hold of that higher calling!”

In this blogging world there are so many great writers who have so much wisdom to share! I decided it’s time to invite some of them to share with my readers, so without further adieu my first “Friday’s Friend,” Rebecca from Mom’s Mustard Seeds.

“If you would teach your kids better, they wouldn’t do that.”

Those words hurt as they were flung across asphalt. This Mama heart was in the midst of our third year homeschooling and the day the words were spoken, was the third anniversary of my Mom’s death.

I was devastated.

And those words ‘of not doing enough’ began to take root.

Steal Your Joy

I began to believe them. As I read words from others, I saw how so many Moms live in what seems like a ‘ground hog day of motherhood’. Same failures, different days. Day after day – wake up, cry, feel pity, feel guilty, seek others, go to bed, cry- repeat. I enjoyed not being ‘alone’.

I began to realize little by little that I was not moving forward. I was not living each day for the one who created me. It hit me that I was living to overcome the words that were spoken. I was living in a ‘do’ mentality.

Don't Miss the Small Moments

I was allowing the judgement and misunderstanding of one who does not know me drive me into a pit and eat away at my peace like a vulture.

Have you ever lived in that ‘do’ mentality? You know, the one where if you just ‘do’ this or you ‘do’ that, then your children will ‘do’ what they are supposed to ‘do’ and others will see that you are ‘doing’ the right thing and you’ll be loved and accepted.

But, that mentality of doing – is not where we are supposed to live.

We, as mothers, have a higher calling.

I found that calling late one night, as I curled up in a chair,wrapped in a blanket and tears poured down my cheeks.

The words I read provided my true worth and helped me to find my joy again. It was there, that I began to hear my Father, His words and His calling. He showed me the truth that while I have my own part to play, He is the one who works in me and I have to submit to His word and will:

“For it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.” Phil 2:13 ESV

Keep Your eye on the prize

Which then took me down a path of identifying what that looks like in my life, as his child – being the wife and mother he created me to be. Not the person, mom or wife others think I should be. Their thoughts and misunderstandings only lead me down the right path when they are founded on his word. But, it’s up to me, truly to find it and bury it in my heart.

First, I am a wife. I want to be a wife of noble character. I desire to be an excellent wife. These things are not something I can truly be or do. But, I can set my eyes on the words of God – I can bury them in my heart and meditate on them. The more I do that, the more I will become the wife I was created to be – the wife I long to be…..

Wife

Download this printable here

And then, I am a mother. In the world, motherhood has become less than a blessing. It is no longer lifted up as a position to be admired, but of one who is almost less than the lowest. I can’t keep my eyes on that. I refuse to be stuck in the monotony of a life that is less than ordinary. And I definitely do not want to to grab hold of the ground hog day mentality.

Oh, it’s easy to do – in the days of diapers and toys. The days of hormonal changes and car dashes here and there. But, our perception of truth can only be attained in the words of the Father. So, I pulled open the book and again, I sought words to guide and encourage me….

Mother

Download this printable here

To be a wife and a Mom in today’s world takes courage and perseverance. This is not an ordinary life and our love begins in our homes. But, we, Moms need to join together and grow friendships that are so beautiful that others see us and see the beauty of grace and mercy that only shines from the light of Christ. We need to learn how to disagree but get along, and embrace our differences – because we are all created by the one who created the world.

Don't Miss the Small Things

While we grab on to this life, we need to embrace the small moments with our family.

Being a wife and a Mom – it’s hard, but beautiful. Grab on and don’t miss out on the little things that matter most! There will be hard days and days that run so beautifully, we will forget the bad.

Will you join me? Let’s reach out, share the truth about the good and the bad. Let’s form a bond so close that even in the midst of the muck and mire the beauty of the Savior shines so bright it opens the eyes of those walking around with their heads down. It’s time….

Rebecca remarried the love of her life and witnesses the beauty of God’s Grace and Mercy every day of her life. Her goal is to immerse her children in God’s Love, Word, Grace and Mercy so that He is the One they seek to glorify in all of their works and deeds. She is a Project Manager by trade, climbed the corporate ladder, made that big pay check. Yet, God brought her home and she has found more joy and riches in the hugs and kisses, and yes, the tears and sweat, of being home and discipling her children than she ever found in the corporate world. The days can be long, but sitting at the foot of the cross with her children is beautiful, and she prays she will help raise up a new generation of leaders, shining the Lord’s light in our dark world. She cannot wait to encourage you in your Homeschool Journey. Find Rebecca on Facebook and Twitter and on her blog, Mom’s Mustard

Remember My Chains – A Lesson From Paul

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I grew up in the seventies and eighties. My grandparents sent us to a private Christian school (which I loved, by the way.)

The time that I was growing up was known for two things that I remember clearly. I say clearly because I’m sure there are many more things that I can’t remember! You know they say that with each child, you lose some brain cells. Seven times whatever … well you can do the math. It ain’t pretty.

In any case those two things that I remember are these:

I remember the excess of the 80’s – the Christmas tree was overflowing with gifts and everyone was trying to “one up” everyone else. Cars, houses, clothes. I don’t think it was because of my private school education, either. The same little competitions were happening on my cul-de-sac.

The eighties however came with some baggage from the seventies. And honestly, I think that “baggage” had been there for decades before. I can’t compare them of course but the baggage I’m referring to is this: we had a hard time saying what was “really” going on.

My grandparents, whom I loved dearly, we very tight-lipped about anything that seemed amiss in our perfect private-school family. And I don’t think it’s because they were afraid. I think it’s because of a misguided sense of care for us. Well, and fear. Okay, and pride. That too.

It’s funny how we think that by not sharing our weaknesses and struggles that others will somehow be encouraged by our example.

I was reading Colossians 4 in a quiet nook of my bedroom today. (Okay let’s be honest: it’s only truly quiet here at 6:30 a.m., so if you ever hear me say my house is quiet, assume it’s early in the morning.) Anyway, my heart was heavy. I struggled to read the Bible without being distracted or jumping ahead to make my list for the day.

In fact, I was pretty distracted until I read the very.last.verse of Colossians 4. Here’s what it says:

^”I, Paul, write this greeting in my own hand. Remember my chains.”

I was struck by the image of this man in chains for the sake of the gospel. But I was more struck by the fact that he was not trying to impress anyone with his “tough it out” attitude. And this was an apostle! He was a super-star for Christ, someone that was looked up to and admired by many.

I went back to the beginning of the chapter and discovered that Paul asked for help again and again. He told the truth. He didn’t put on a “brave” face and he didn’t try to keep his struggles a secret.

v. 3 – “pray for us, that God may open a door for our message”
v. 7 – “Tychicus will tell you all the news about me.”
v. 9 – “They will tell you everything that is happening here.”
v. 12 -“He (Epaphras) is always standing in prayer for you.”
v. 16 – Paul gives instruction to tell about his circumstances in Laodicea
v. 18 – “Remember my chains.”

Remember my chains. In other words, don’t forget me. I need your prayers.

It reminds me of the time I was struggling with a newborn who never slept. One night, I asked my dear friend to just please remember me at 2 a.m., 3:30 a.m. etc. I really thought that I might die from sleep deprivation if no one prayed for me!

When I look at Paul, it’s clear: prayer was essential to his life. Here was a guy that was truly suffering. And he didn’t care who knew it. Why? Because he knew that he needed to be undergirded. He knew he needed the prayers of his other brothers and sisters. I think it’s interesting that Paul didn’t seem to care what other people thought of his suffering.

That’s usually what hangs me up.

Paul knew there was power in prayer. So he asked for it. He told the truth. In so doing, he opened the door to what could have been wide-spread criticism.

I think he did so because he had his eyes on the bigger picture. He was trying to follow God. And he knew he needed prayer more than he needed to guard his pride.

The next time you have a chance to talk with a friend and you sense an opportunity to be real, take it. We need each other, busy moms.

Are you in pain? Is your marriage in need of prayer? Are you struggling with a strong-willed child? Wondering if you’re really cut out of this motherhood thing?

Then you’re in good company. Keep it real. Let’s pray for each other. The road is a long one. I say we travel it together and carry one-another’s burdens.

“Therefore encourage one another and build each other up…” I Thessalonians 5:11

He Knows My Name

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I looked in the mirror the other day and laughed along with God.

No joke.

I laughed.

Why? Because I have seven kids, that’s why. And I think it makes God smile.

Why? Because it’s me, that’s why.

Me.

The woman who has to buy silk plants because I have a startling ability to kill both plants and small animals. (I boiled my fish to death in their aquarium when I was 14. True story.)

In my defense, the thermostat broke while I was at school. But still. I think I have PTSD from that episode.

God knew all about my anti-nurturing qualities and still, He saw fit to entrust me with seven precious lives.

Seven.

S E V E N beautiful pairs of baby feet. Made just for me and my husband by the God of the universe.

I think God is smiling at me right this minute, thinking about my dead fish and my silk plants—and those seven precious people who call me … MOM.

You see, God knows me. I’ve learned He knows me better than I know myself.

He knows my name.

I like to picture Him saying it … I listen for it.

And I hear Him—in the stillness that comes with the morning light. I hear Him. “Heidi.”

Just.Like.That. Gentle. Patient.

Like a father should be.

Like any good father, He knew I was terrified of motherhood. Terrified that I was destined to repeat a generational sin in my family. Terrified that I was not equipped to take care of a baby. Terrified that I would mess it up. And even more terrified to admit it.

My Father knew my fears as a young mother-to-be.

And He still knows them. {He’s good like that.}

Sometimes, Father lets me wrestle with a question. Sometimes, He sends an answer.

Rarely early. Never late.

I think He knows when I need an answer and when I can wait a while longer.

In September of 1991, I had a question that couldn’t wait. I needed an answer.

Life hung in the balance.

New life.

He knows my name. He knows my name.

I was a woman who was about to give birth. My fear of failing bubbled to the surface. My spirit struggled under the weight of an uncertain future.

Could I do this? Really?
Would I be an angry mother?
Could I overcome my fear?

Just a few days before our precious first-born entered this world, I broke down. Tears rolled down my face and dropped quietly onto my burgeoning belly. It was time to face my fear.

He knows my name.

As I sat in the living room of a dear woman of God, I confided in her. I unpacked my fears. I told my story.

And God sent me His answer through this precious friend.

Rarely early. Never late.

“I can’t do it!” I wailed. “I don’t know how! I don’t know how not to be angry.”

It was all I had ever known, really. Anger.

He knows my name.

“Heidi, ” Nola said, “Why are you crying? God has made you new. You are a new creation! You are redeemed! Called by name. Loved. Set apart. You are not bound by your past. You.Are.New.”

He knows my name.

In that moment, I was set free. Free to be the woman God made me to be. Free to be the mother I wanted to be.

That was nearly twenty-two years ago.

Do I still battle with my fears? Yes.

Do I struggle? Fall? Fail?

Yes.

But here’s the thing: I’m learning what it means to be truly free.

Free to be imperfect. Free to ask for help.

Free to mess things up. To ask for grace —grace to be the woman God sees when He looks at me.

He knows my name.

He knows your name too, precious mom. He knows your fears—He’s seen your failures.

And He loves you.

You can trust Him with your fears and your failures. Lean hard into His arms. He can hold you up.

He knows your name. Can you hear Him saying it?

Look up. Listen.

He knows your name.

Behind Every Great Kid …

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You’re doing great, mom! Keep lovin’ your kids.

Short, precious, irreplaceable {The Teen Years}

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“You just WAIT until they are old enough to be really rebellious!”

These were some of the first words I heard from well-meaning folks twenty-two years ago, as I held my bright-eyed, strong-willed little girl in my arms.

I’ll admit: I wasn’t looking forward to those dreaded years, but comments like that didn’t help. I figured I had a few years to come up with a “plan of attack” though. And, thankfully, the first twelve years provided plenty of learning opportunities for my sweet husband and me. Mostly, they were opportunities to learn the best ways to love our kids.

Years ago, the Lord impressed a verse on my heart as I was sitting on our couch reading to our pre-teens. We were reading the story of George Mueller, who had served the Lord with a passion that ultimately brought many to Christ. I wondered what my teens would choose to do with their lives…and then, I saw this verse in an entirely new light:

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope and a future.” ~Jeremiah 29:11

I had been reading this verse all my life but at that moment I saw it in a new light: God had a plan for EACH of my children. It wasn’t just for me—that promise was for them, too. It overshadowed the moments of angst we were having, and those all-too-common struggles for right relationship. I really saw each of my children as truly precious to the Lord. It made me very aware of my part in God’s plan, too, because as their mother, I was a big part of what God was doing in their lives at that point. As a mom, I am God’s divine choice to help Him as He prepares our children for the plans He has already made for them. My job was to nurture and guide them into God’s plan—to help them find their purpose.

Instead of dreading the teen years, I now look forward to them. Why? Because that when weary moms and dads get to see the first signs of buds that appear on the branches we have been tending to so carefully. It’s those final few years that we have our children under our care and supervision. The teen years provide opportunities for late-night conversations about the real stuff that life is made of.

The world says that when we have teens we should gradually give them more and more freedom: 13 yr olds are now being left to parent themselves, and 16 year-olds are often making life-altering decisions will little guidance from their parents.

But how different God’s view is of parenting! Consider what David had to say in Psalm 127:4:

Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one’s youth.

God says that our children are like arrows in the hands of a warrior! This is a great image for us to remember as we get ready to launch our arrows out into the world: rather than giving more and more freedom and imparting less instruction, we should be giving more instruction! Before an archer gets ready to launch his arrows, he carefully draws the bow and arrow into himself, carefully determining trajectory and keeping his eyes on the target.

Am I suggesting that we don’t give our teens a measure of freedom? No. Our job is to prepare them for adulthood. They will need freedom in order to grow and test their first flight wings. But let’s be careful not to launch them too soon or carelessly. Let’s keep our eyes on preparing them for that specific task to which God is calling them—and be open to the idea that it will not always be what we had hoped it would be. Remember, God is the Master planner! We are simply caretakers for a few years of great opportunity and influence in the lives of our children.

The teen years go by fast. But contrary to the world’s thinking, they are not a time for less parenting. They are a time of great opportunity— a time for greater wisdom and involvement. The teen years are not an instant maturity of child to adult, but a gradual deepening of a friendship between child and parent. It’s an opportunity to use careful wisdom when disciplining and to ask for forgiveness when it’s required.

Don’t miss these precious years. Don’t dread them. Take advantage of them.

Wondering how? Here are a few simple goals to consider:

Make your home the place where your teens want to bring their friends.
We’ve found that making our home “the place” has required some flexibility over the years … 🙂 but that flexibility has resulted in wonderful memories of pizza parties, game nights, movie nights and even wonderful interactions around a big pot of taco soup. Make sure your teens know that you welcome their friends into your house. Not only does it give you great insight into the character of their friends, it allows you a greater platform to speak into their lives.
Be willing to stay up late.
I don’t know why, but teens become night owls. So we became night owls too. Sometimes, against our will! But those late-night conversations are a huge part of the important stuff. Prop your eyelids open … it’s worth it!
Learn to apologize.
Your teens will respect you and learn from your example if you can admit it when you are wrong. After all, we ask forgiveness for our entire lifetime!
Be the parents.
You’re an archer. You’re preparing your kids for a battle—and this requires both nurture and discipline. Our kids were not created to be boomerangs! They’re not supposed to come back… right? 🙂 They were created as arrows. You don’t get a second chance. One launch. A few short years. Don’t grow weary in investing in your teens.

The harvest is coming. Sow wisely and lovingly. And ENJOY these precious years!

We Hope—We Wait

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“Good things come to those who wait.”

Boy, I heard this a lot as a child, this philosophy of waiting. It was preached from the pulpit, at school and yes, at home. It’s funny how you turn into your parents, pastors and teachers … eventually.

When I was young, I was always in a hurry to grow up. I remember thinking, “if only I could drive…” or “if only so-and-so would ask me out” … and then, I married the most wonderful man—and the “if onlys” began again. “If only we had more money”, “If only the kids would obey!”

Time is a teacher. At long last, I am discovering something about my if only attitude. In Romans, Paul was having a similar angst. Except he had the right perspective.

“But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.” Romans 8:25

In the quiet (read: before the kids awake), I let these words soak deep into my spirit. And a four little words speak to my spirit. “We hope—We Wait.”

Look closely. They come before and after “for what we do not have.”

We live in a world that is desperate for hope. Entire {successful} presidential campaigns have been built on the word “Hope.” It is a powerful word. It holds a promise that is unique to the one who hears it.

What are we hoping—and waiting for? Some weighty things come to mind—

Raising children is really an exercise in hope. Each day requires renewed patience and discipline as I wait to see the beginnings of buds appear on the branches of those little saplings I have planted oh-so-carefully with my husband. The promise of fruit that will appear —the hope—that if I plant with the harvest in mind, and if I nurture these little souls—and if—I can ask forgiveness … there.will.be.fruit.

We hope—for what we do not yet have.

We wait for it—patiently

… when we’ve said “no” for the trillionth time
… when we are challenged repeatedly
… when the gentle correction seems to not be working
… when the toddler just will.not.stop. whining
… when the math lessons are wearisome
… when I am weary from the oh-so-daily reminders:

“your school books don’t go there”
“yes, it’s your turn to unload the dishwasher”
“please treat your sister with kindness”
“stop arguing with each other…please …. now … STOP!”

Many moms fall into bed each night exhausted and discouraged—for little change is seen in the day-to-day challenges of raising children.

Real change is incremental. It is a decision of the heart.

So we wait—with hope—for what do we do not yet see.

And we don’t give up. And we love with a fierceness that burns brightly on long winter days.

And—we keep waiting—because we believe the promise.

Good things come to those who wait. And just like Rome wasn’t built in a day, so fruit trees don’t mature overnight.

One day, I am learning, the effort begins to bear fruit. Children grow up. They get married … and… I’m also discovering that eventually, they make ecstatic grandmothers out of tired mamas.

There will be fruit. Plant with the harvest in mind.

Be encouraged,
heidi

Just Like Her Mommy

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Sometimes, we learn more from our children than we can possibly teach them.

I think that’s God’s way. He gives us children in part, I think, to show us how He sees us. Yes, we teach them, but really, we’re the ones being taught.

The older I get the more I am realizing how utterly dependent I am on God. When I was younger, I didn’t grasp the gravity of my need for Him.

Our littlest Darling is two. I wonder if God sees me as I see Darling. Sometimes, I grasp the enormity of the lessons I’m learning. Sometimes, I don’t. When I have the occasion to understand the situation I am in, I often look wide-eyed at God for help—in the same way Darling looks at me.

“Mommy, I’m stuck.” or “It burned, Mommy.” “Help, please.” “I’m sorry.” “But I’m not tired!”

Sometimes, there are no words. Just tears of regret for the suffering that follows a wrong decision or words that were carelessly spoken.

Truly, my two-year-old daughter is just like her mommy.

Just like her, I’m in constant need of God’s tender mercies. I’m fragile. Broken, really. The cracks show up when the light hits them just right … these jagged lines that life has left run their course along my soul and occasionally they expose soft spots I had forgotten about. They serve as an indelible reminder of my humanness.

If I look too long at the jagged lines, I can feel myself begin to sink. Thoughts that are not from Him creep in. I wonder how I can be the mother that I need to be. I question how I can adequately serve this amazing man who loves me. I wonder how I can juggle the friendships that I’ve been blessed with. I wonder if I’m a good friend at all.

And then, I remember Darling.

She is growing. Each day, she remembers a lesson (or at the very least, part of a lesson) from the day before—just like her mommy.

Some places are sticky. It’s easy to get stuck. Don’t go back there.

Some things burn. Try, try not to touch things that burn flesh or spirit. No matter how shiny or tempting they are.

The trail in the back woods is not for Darling. She can’t navigate it safely … at least not yet. Following an old, overgrown trail that I have been told not to travel down is unwise. (It’s better to close the entrance to trail.)

Saying “I’m sorry” is freeing.

Rest is necessary. Like Darling, I need to learn how to rest without fear that I’ll miss something while my spirit and flesh are being renewed.

We are so much like the children that God entrusts into our care.

Learning.

Trying again.

Falling … and getting back up.

In need of forgiveness.

In need of rest.

And those broken places? They’re part of the daily reminder that God is in the business of healing.

Healing from the past.
—Emotionally, physically, spiritually.

Help for the present
—Provision, wisdom for parenting, strength for the journey

Hope for the future

Yes, we’re a lot alike, this toddler and me.

Just like her mommy, Darling is learning how to trust, forgive, dust herself off, get back in the game, avoid the sticky places, apologize when necessary and rest without struggling.

Today as I watch our toddler … well … “toddling,” I smile. Because I know that God is watching me—His hands are open wide, His eyes dance with enthusiasm at every new lesson I learn, knowing that I desire to be, well, just like my Daddy.

That makes the journey worth taking.

Heidi St. John

Speaking the Truth in Love

Tag Archives: motherhood

“Grab hold of that higher calling!”

Remember My Chains – A Lesson From Paul

He Knows My Name

Behind Every Great Kid …

Short, precious, irreplaceable {The Teen Years}

We Hope—We Wait

Just Like Her Mommy