The Long Goodbye

I’ve always been pretty sentimental about things. My earliest memory of my sentimentality is crying outside my elementary school on the last day of fifth grade. I hate goodbyes. I hate when good things end. I don’t even really like change. So much so that I’m content to eat the same thing for lunch every day for weeks on end. I like the way things are to stay that way, for a very long time.

This is why motherhood is often so hard for me. Nothing stays the same for very long. In fact, the only constant about parenting children is that it’s constantly changing. A newborn baby quickly becomes an infant. An infant moves into toddlerhood before you have time to catch your breath from just having had an infant. Toddlerhood leads to school age. Elementary school leads to teenagers. Teenage years lead to college, which means they are gone. And now I’m already crying over something that’s at least sixteen years away.

I’ve been feeling this coming change acutely as we prepare for the arrival of our third son in just a matter of weeks. I never had a chance to really prepare for anything with the twins since they came so early, so this time around I’ve been a lot more introspective (with all the extra time to prepare). With each passing week I’m more aware of how the new normal of our life these last two years is about to give way to a whole new normal, one I’ve never done before. I’ve never had three kids. I’ve never had one baby at a time (THAT I hope is easier!). I’ve never been pregnant past 32 weeks.

But I’ve also been aware of how this life I’ve had with the twins (just us three a lot of the time) will now include one new precious person. My time will now be divided three ways, instead of two. And I can already feel the pressure of splitting my time between all of them, knowing that in a lot of ways I’m going to miss more opportunities with them than I would like simply because I’m one person limited by the constraints of time, energy, and quite frankly, only two hands.

As I’ve grown into this motherhood thing I’ve started seeing motherhood as sort of a long goodbye. While we all are on a journey of this long goodbye from the moment we take our first breath, parenting has a way of making you feel like everything is the beginning of the end in such profound ways. Motherhood is a temporary vocation. It won’t last forever. While I will always be their mom, I won’t always mother them in this way. One day, a long (but all too short) day from now, I will let them go. Everything I have taught them will not be practice any longer, it will be reality.

And I feel an ache in my soul about it all.

Most moms have had it said to them “the days are long, but the years are short.” And oh, how short they are, aren’t they? With each step we take on this long goodbye, we are reminded that each passing day is one that we won’t get back. They will never be two year olds playing in the snow for the first time again. Next year, they will be one year older, and allowing us to see the world from their eyes in a whole new way. But it will be one step closer on this long goodbye.

Understanding the reality of the long goodbye is more than just coming to terms with the ache of motherhood. It has theological undertones that find their hope in something greater than simply treasuring every moment of each passing day (though that is certainly a good and right thing). If my hope is in holding on to the moments that I know won’t last forever, then my joy will be determined by the limited nature of these days. But if my hope is in the fact that all of my days are guiding me towards a greater joy in the presence of my Savior, then I can trust that even the tears shed over fleeting moments aren’t in vain. They mean something. The answer is not holding on to my sentimentality anymore than it is in pretending like my heart isn’t experiencing the reality of living in a world that is passing away. Neither of these will bring me lasting comfort. But in the times of my greatest sadness over the temporal nature of motherhood, and this life in general, I must run not to my circumstances, but to the precious reality that one day Christ will return, make all things right, and wipe away every tear from my eyes—even the tears I shed on this long goodbye.

Motherhood, like all of life, is cursed by the fall—meaning it’s not what God intended it to be. It’s painful and it ends. So as we walk the road of this long goodbye called motherhood let us hold in tension the reality of enjoying this life, one day at a time, and longing for the perfect one to come.

What I Missed About Work

The subject of work and how our faith relates to our vocation has been a topic of much conversation in our home lately. In a lot of ways, these two articles (for TGC and Boundless) are the fruit of those conversations. Daniel has sensed God's leading to stay within his current vocation (as a lay pastor and salesman) and I have wrestled with the implications of it all.

But more importantly, our thinking, praying, and crying (mostly me) through all of these issues has caused me to reflect on my current vocation (as a mom, wife, and writer) and also on my previous ones. If I am truly honest about the past, I was an unfaithful worker in my twenties. I may have shown up on time, completed my work, and even gone above and beyond sometimes, but my heart wasn't in it. I had an unbiblical disconnect between my role as an image bearer and the nature of work. I thought if I wasn't doing something really valuable (like saving orphans in Africa or teaching a bible study) I wasn't really doing anything at all. I saw my work in the secular market as a means to an end, and I had little respect for people who did such work for the rest of their lives. As Daniel has moved towards his current profession, I have been forced to move along with him. And it's been really good for me. I have grown to see his work (and ultimately my own) as valuable not necessarily because he is evangelizing everyone he meets, but because he is working faithfully in his job, thus reflecting his role as an image bearer.

This has had a profound effect on how I view my current vocation as a stay-at-home mom. While there are two little people who depend on me for their constant care, it is easy to see my work as meaningless. Because there are no tangible markers for how I am doing, I can easily neglect certain responsibilities or fail to work hard because no one really is evaluating me at the end of the day. But I also can see my work as having little value, because I don't bring in the bulk of our family's income or get feedback on my work. Besides the occasional hug or kiss, the most return I get on my work in my home is a peanut butter hand print on my clean windows or syrup in my hair. But it is still work, and it still demands my faithfulness.

Understanding the value of work that is directly related to my role as an image bearer shapes the way I work. I work not just as "unto the Lord", but also as a representative of my Lord on this earth. When my kids see me work on their behalf, for the benefit of my church, or for the good of a friend in need, I hope they see a small glimpse (albeit very flawed) of the creative goodness of our God.

This is what I missed in my twenties. I thought work was all about me and my personal fulfillment. I didn't see the people in the cubicles around me as recipients of my faithful work. I just wanted out of the cubicle. I wanted to be in a place where real good was happening, not some corporate environment. And I regret that.

My prayer for my thirties, and beyond, is that I would joyfully embrace whatever work God sees fit to give me, not necessarily because it fulfills every need I have, but because work is a good gift to God's people, his image bearers. We work to reflect his glory. We work to create and cultivate like he does. We work to make much of him as the author and giver of every good thing--even the fruits of our labors.

Now if you will excuse me, I need to get to work.

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If you want to read more about how God has been shaping our understanding of work, you can read this interview Daniel did with The Gospel Coalition. It's really helpful, but I am a little biased!

Life is Not a Deadline

By nature I’m not a very disciplined person. It’s taken a lot of years for me to get a system in place that works for me. After conversion, my desire for discipline grew, but it’s still something I have to work at. So I create lists. If a task is written down in front of me I will do it. And there is something so satisfying about crossing something off a list. My most recent job was very deadline driven, so I had to learn to operate on a deadline every day when I went into the office. It was good for me and I seemed to thrive in an environment that demanded daily action on my part. In my personal life I create deadlines for myself in order to complete tasks and stay disciplined. All of these efforts are good as general rules for getting things done, but what happens if my list doesn’t get done at the end of the day? Well, let’s just say in my quest to become a disciplined person my self-imposed deadlines can often make me a slave to my own ambitions.

Discipline and executing tasks with excellence are good things. Doing things well brings God glory. Keeping my word honors him. But they aren’t ultimate. In fact, they can be downright sinful if I let them take over my life.

In this particular new season of my life I’ve been given a lot more free time than I’m used to. That kind of freaks out my non-disciplined self. The thought of waking up without a task makes me twitch. I know what I’ve done with free time before and I don’t want to become an unproductive blob. So I make lists and lists and lists. And feel guilty when I don’t complete all of the tasks I’ve given myself for the day. I mean, I used to get so much more done in the office. What’s wrong with me now? I can be a ruthless boss of myself and I was trapped in this vicious mental cycle until Daniel, in his great wisdom, told me something last week that made me stop, “you don’t have to always be productive during the day. Your job is much different now.”

It was a profound moment, a sort of sweet release that living my life as a keeper of my home is not one constant deadline waiting to be met. There must be balance as I strive towards productivity and excellence. Now I firmly believe that being a keeper of my home means doing it with excellence and using the full force of my God-given skill set to make my home a haven for my husband and for ministry. But it’s a different sort of work. It isn’t always a list with countless tasks waiting to be checked off. Sometimes it’s visiting a friend in need or driving around with my husband while he makes cold-calls for his job. Sure it’s cooking, cleaning, managing our calendars, and all sorts of domestic tasks. But it’s also so much more than that. It’s about time and availability, especially taking time to stop and help my husband in whatever way he needs. For us, in this season, it’s the little things like reading and proofing letters to his potential accounts, helping him think through our church plant, and eating lunch with him.

There will come a day where the season isn’t so carefree, and that’s okay. Until then, I want to enjoy these moments and soak them in, knowing that they won't be here forever. But this struggle to find balance will always be about my heart and my constant battle with the to-do list.

We Have Moved!

Well, sort of. Last Saturday, we finished packing up and began the eight hour trek from Louisville to Little Rock. Sunday morning we signed our lease and moved into our new apartment, only to turn back around and fly back to Louisville on Monday night. Sound crazy? It gets better.

Being the genius that I am, I forgot the key for where we were supposed to stay in Louisville, so by the time our plane landed we were homeless. For two nights we moved from place to place until the key finally came yesterday (overnighted from a dear friend). So for three nights we get to stay in the same place. I never knew that would be such a sweet blessing. But right now, it's the little things that count.

While all of this chaos was going down I would periodically cry thinking that this is not how I wanted to spend my husband's graduation week. I wanted it to be happy. I wanted it to be joyous. I wanted to make memories and remember memories. I didn't want to be frustrated, tired, and moody. But I was.

And then it hit me. This is exactly what we both pray for regularly. We want to be humbled because we know that God opposes the proud, but gives grace to the humble (James 4:6, 1 Peter 5:5). Instead of embracing the grace of the humbling, I was stiffening my back and responding in pride. I wasn't grateful for God's mercy to humble me and make me more like him. I was angry that I didn't look perfect to everybody around me. I didn't want to have to ask for help, even though we needed a lot of it.

Moving is hard. But all big changes are really. This is our first big change together, coming off a year of busyness and heartache. It hasn't been easy. In fact, at times it's been excruciating. But as I read this morning in Isaiah 45:3, God gives treasures in the darkness so we know that he is God and there is no other. These times of sorrow, hardship, and even our own humbling, are reminders that God is God and we are not. And even though the circumstances are trying, he is giving us treasures in the darkness and providing abundant grace to us as we are humbled.

Preserving My Time

Today has been a lazy day. And boy do I like it! About a month or two ago a dear friend encouraged me to examine my schedule and cut things out that took me away from my husband and my home. As she wisely observed, I had begun to fill my evenings, and even my Saturday's, with a lot of other things that had very little to do with my husband. I had assumed that since he was studying I could just do whatever I wanted. He didn't need me around, right? Well, what happened was these other "things" became overwhelming. Suddenly, I wasn't just away from home too much, but I was exhausted and moody when I was home. Not good.

My friend encouraged me to learn to appreciate my time at home. She encouraged me to do little things to help my husband as he studied and worked: make him cookies, clean the house, grocery shop in the evening so we have weekends together, just be there. My home should be a resting place for my husband and it's not very restful if I am devoting my time to everything but that pursuit!

So I started trying to preserve my time. And it was not easy! I am a chronic over-committer. I get myself way too involved in things and then realize that I don't have time when it is too late. Right now, I am winding down my commitments and hoping that the next few months can be a better use of my time for my husband.

Today was a first. I had nothing on the calendar! We slept in, ate breakfast together (Daniel cooked!), I read for a good, long time in my pajamas, cleaned the kitchen, and am now about to make dinner. We had a nice walk planned, but the rain ruined it. It just felt so nice to not have to go anywhere or do anything.

That's where I'm at right now in my sanctification. I wish I was further, but I am so thankful for my friend's encouragement. I am also so thankful that God is not finished with me yet. He will continue to shape me and mold me into the wife that he wants me to be. Until the day I see his face, I will keep plugging along, praying that each year brings me closer into his likeness.