God of the Zeros

A few days ago, I was traveling somewhere with a new friend.  We had just been in the home of someone with various religious artifacts, and I asked:  "Are you Catholic?"

"No," she replied, nonchalantly.  "I'm more of a zero."

When I lived in Atlanta, I more or less expected the "zero" attitude, though few people admitted it quite so readily.  In small town Georgia, it caught me a little (okay - a lot) by surprise.

I wasn't sure exactly what to say, so I prattled on quickly. In hindsight, I wish I had said something. 

Specifically, I wish I had said, "Yes, I've been there too."

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For All Moms Who Miss "Feeling Pretty"

Oh, my sweet, tired friend . . .

I saw you just the other day in the mall, averting your eyes when you walked past the mirror.

I liked your photo on Facebook . . . the one where you used your precious newborn baby as a prop to cover all but a sliver of your face.

I heard you laugh but felt you wince in the elevator when your toddler poked your belly and giggled:  "Squishy!"

I saw your sad eyes in the supermarket checkout line when you saw that it was a 22-year-old who claimed the title of Best Actress and you suddenly realized that you may have passed your cultural prime.

I heard your sleepless heart late at night when it whispered . . . 

Have I already spent the best part of me?

And I cried a little, because I’ve been there too.

Oh, my dear friend . . . can we be in this together for a minute?

I’m tempted to write something cliché, but I know you:  you are smart and savvy and much too tired to tolerate the platitudes.  So hang tight with me, because I’m going deep:

. . . . For the rest of this post, visit my new site at www.homespunheartsongs.com.  :)  And don't forget to sign up for email updates over there!  

Calling All Would-Be Friends

Making friends as an adult has been tricky for me.  I’m not a planner.  I’m easily exhausted in social situations.  I work too much.  My house is too messy.  I need to spend one-on-one time with my kids.  I need to make quality time for my husband.  I need more sleep!  I’m not good at making finger foods.  I can’t multitask over children and conversation.  I don’t have anything to wear!

                Does your list look anything like this? Managing the logistics of friendships with the reality of daily life can be tricky.  (Really, who needs another thing to do?)  However, I’ve found that logistics aren’t the real obstacle to friendships in my life:  I am.

When you get right down to it, all of those insecurities disguised as logistics say the same thing:  I’ll be ready for friendship when _________________.  Or, stated differently, I’m not really ready for friendship right now.

                Does my last sentence make you as angry as it makes me feel to write it?  Of course I’m ready for friendship.  I’m desperate for friendship!  It’s just that . . .

Good friends plan fun parties and bring energy into the room.

Good friends are selfless stay at home moms who have somehow managed to prioritize their families and friends over jobs, finances, and ambition.

Good friends have clean houses, don’t rotate pajama pants as casual wear, and provide Pinterest worthy party foods for their guests.

And really, it’s just that . . .

If you put me under a microscope with all of my junk and my issues and my demands and my stuff, you’d see . . .

I’m not really worthy of friends right now. 

But I will be one day. 

When I finally quit my job. 

When my kids are older and my house is cleaner. 

When I’ve worked through my issues in therapy and have recovered from ___________ (you fill in the blank).

               If this is you (and trust me, it’s me) . . . call me!  I need to visit your messy house.  I need to know you cannot find a single. pair. of. jeans. that. fit.   I need to see you struggle to string together sentences over your three year old and to hear your frustration (and sometimes relief) over dropping said three year old off at daycare.  I need to know what it’s like for you if you stay at home with your kids and struggle with feelings of inadequacy (of course you do!) just like I do when I go to work. 

                Do you hear me?  I need you!

Why?  Because when you take the risk to expose yourself to me, you help me see myself through God’s eyes.  When you share your messy house, your burnt cookies, and your dirty bathroom with me, you remind me that we are all created perfectly imperfect.  When we connect over something, you are like a mirror to my soul, showing me that some part of me is lovable.  So very, very lovable.  Right where I am.  Just as I am. 

So, let’s make a pact.  You share your vulnerability and your humor and your stories and your tears with me, and I’ll let you visit my fraternity-esque bathroom, see my unwashed hair, and hold my child with spaghetti on his shirt.

Let’s trade mess for mess.  Something makes me believe we’ll both leave feeling a little more loved, a little more worthy, a little more like the daughters of a King who did not hesitate to embrace the dirty, the sick, the issue-laden, and the needy.

Like I said, I need you.  And you need me too.

Heart Psalm

Dear Heavenly Father,

Sometimes, you don't seem so real to me.

Sometimes.

Sometimes, life sits like a rock in my belly.

Sometimes.

Sometimes, fear overrides faith and the future looks blah.

Sometimes.

But that is no way to live.

My heart wasn't created for fear, or for rocks, or for fiction.

So I will come to your gates with Thanksgiving.

Even when I can't see you, I will praise your name.

God of the universe, who loved me enough to allow me to taste your burden

To see how love feels when swallowed whole.

Father God, I praise your name,

God, I praise your name.  

Yummy!

One day, after a nice summer swim, Frog realized that he was very hungry.  He hurried to his house and made a plate full of his favorite:  grilled cheese sandwiches.  With his mouth watering, he took his plate and a glass of pink lemonade outside for a lovely afternoon picnic on a rock by the river.

Just as he was getting ready to take his first bite, Moose sauntered by.  Catching a whiff of the delicious smelling grilled cheese sandwiches, he turned around, looked at Frog with his plate piled high, and said, "Mmmmmm.  Can I have a bite?"

Frog looked from Moose to his sandwiches and back again.  Finally, he tore off the most itsy bitsy teensie weensie teeniniest piece of sandwich that he could manage and placed it on the rock.  

"Here you go!" said Frog.

Moose looked at the crumb, looked back at Frog, and said, "It's okay.  You can keep it."  He then wandered on his way.

Frog shrugged and brought his sandwich up to his mouth, but just then Goat cantered up.

"What a de-e-e-licious smell!" exclaimed Goat.  "Can I have some?"

Frog shrugged and said, "Sure, help yourself."  He pointed to the crumb that Moose left on the rock.

Goat quickly licked up the crumb.  When he saw that Frog wasn't going to offer any more, he trudged away with his head hung low.

This time, Frog quickly crammed a piece of the sandwich in his mouth, but before he could chew it up very well, Alligator crawled up.

"Yuuuummmmmy!" said Alligator.  "My favorite!  Can I have a bite?"

Frog's mouth was too full to speak, so he just pulled off another tiny crumb . . . this one even smaller than the last, and held it out for Alligator.

Alligator looked at the crumb in Frog's hand, licked his lips and . . . 

CHOMP.

Rumor has it that there is still a mostly-full plate of grilled cheese sandwiches sitting on a rock by the river. You can help yourself. 

THE END.

Three Little Monkeys

Guest post courtesy of Theo Lu, master storyteller and husband extraordinaire.  

Once there were three little monkeys:  John, Don, and Ron.  They were great friends, but they liked to out do each other.  John was the leader, and he always went first.  Don always went second, and Ron always went last.  If John ate one banana, then Don would eat two bananas, and Ron would eat three bananas. And so it went between John, Don and Ron.

One day as they were frolicking through the jungle, they came upon a sleeping tiger.  John said, "Watch this!" Very quietly, he crept up behind the tiger and brushed his hand against the tiger's tail.  Then he slipped away without waking the tiger.

Don said, "That's nothing!  Watch this!"  Very quietly, he crept up behind the tiger and he gently grabbed the tail.  Quickly and quietly, he crept away without waking the tiger up.

Ron said, "You think that was something?  Watch this!"  Quickly and quietly, he crept up behind the tiger, grabbed the tiger's tail, and shook it around.  The tiger woke up.

And so, now there were two little monkeys:  John and Don.  They were great friends, but they were always trying to out do each other.  John liked to go first.  If he ate a mango, Don would say, "That's nothing!" and eat two mangoes.  And so it went between John and Don.

One day, as John and Don were swinging through the jungle, they came upon a river in a canyon.  John said to Don, "Watch this!"  He swung over to a narrow part of the canyon, grabbed a vine, and swung once and then twice.  The third time, he let go and flew over the canyon, landing safely on the other side.

Don said, "That's nothing!  Watch this!"  He went to the widest part of the canyon.  He grabbed a vine and swung once and then twice.  The third time, he let go and flew over the canyon, landing safely on the other side . . . almost.

And so, now there was one little monkey.  His name was John.  And he was a very careful little monkey.

The End.

Tucked In

Most of the time these days, I go to bed before my husband.  I can fall asleep with all the lights on, underneath a pile of clothes on my bed, with books and cell phone arrayed around me.  This doesn't bother me at all and never has.

Sometimes I sleep right through my husband coming to bed, and sometimes I wake up.  But the best times are the times that I waver between dreams and wakefulness . . . because those are the times I get to spy a little on his unwatched heart.

He will pick up my cell phone and books and put them on the bedside table.  He (sometimes) will move the clothes, depending on my particular arrangement. Then he will pull a blanket up to my chin and kiss me goodnight.

And I get to go back to sleep, all tucked in with love.