5 Reasons I’m Hanging Up My Super-Mom Cape in 2018

I will never forget the woman who made me aspire to be a Super-Mom. I was a young wife and a new mama with 2 kids under the age of 2. I worked full time and felt like a failure at pretty much everything. But I had hope.

There was this seasoned mama that my husband worked with and from my vantage point, she could do it all. She worked full time as a nurse while raising a family. She canned her own homemade salsa and made delicious baked goodies and was always doing something amazing for her friends and family. I never visited her home but I bet it was even clean. I wanted to be her so bad, I couldn’t see straight.

Fast forward about six years.

I was walking through Walmart one day after work pushing a cart full of groceries and lugging all FOUR of my kids with me. I was a newly single mom, still licking my wounds but holding my head up high as I strutted through the frozen food section in my high heels.

That’s when I caught a glimpse of myself.

There in the reflection of a frozen foods door, I saw the woman I had always imagined becoming. I was thin, I had on a super cute work outfit and killer heels. I had four adorable children including a precious baby girl. I was googling a recipe on my Blackberry as I shopped so I could ensure I had all the ingredients I needed. I was smart and resourceful. I looked like I had it all together even though I was falling apart. I could multi-task with the best of them. I could do it all. I had become a Super-Mom.

Fast forward nine more year.

Being a Super-Mom isn’t what it’s all cracked up to be.

Don’t get me wrong, I’ve achieved most of my Super-Mom goals. I make amazing cinnamon rolls from scratch. I can successfully can my own salsa and apple butter. I sew new Christmas stockings for my kids every year. I homeschool. I teach at our homeschool co-op. I write curriculum. I edit books from author friends. I’m a freelance writer. I have my own direct sales business. I’m on the Operations Team and Board of Directors for an international ministry. I have kids taking drum lessons and guitar lessons and ukulele lessons and going to cheer practice and soccer practice.

And let’s just talk a moment about multi-tasking. This is where it gets real.

Super Mom

I write while my youngest daughter works on her school work. I text while I’m making dinner. I organize data in spreadsheets while my husband drives. I makes sales while I’m at Disney World. I edit books while I sit with my daughter at chemo. I Facebook in the bathroom.  I answer ministry-related questions during dinner, during movie night, during date night, during cheer practice, during breakfast, while I’m shopping, while I’m reading, while I’m baking, while I’m writing and cooking and watching my daughter dance all at the same time.

It’s too much.

At what point did I decide that being a Super-Mom meant that I had to spread myself so thin?

At what point did I decide that being a Super-Mom meant that I had to multi-task myself into a frenzy?

Sure, I wanted to do it all – but why have I been trying to do it all AT THE SAME TIME?

I know the answer to that question, though… it’s time. There’s not enough time in the day to do everything I want to do so I thought doing multiple things at the same time would free up other parts of my day to do something for myself like watching TV or reading a book. But it’s just not worth it. I need and deserve a few minutes to myself whether I meet all the demands of the world or not. Relaxation isn’t a reward, it’s a basic human need.

So, here are 5 reasons I’m hanging up my Super-Mom cape in 2018:

  1. Multi-tasking seems like an effective time saver but it keeps me from being focused and present. After almost ten years of being a master multi-tasker I’m finding it increasingly difficult to concentrate on any one thing. I cannot even begin to tell you how many times my kids have asked me a question while I was in the middle of typing something and it’s literally taken me a solid 30 seconds to form verbal words in response. That’s unacceptable. Nobody’s brain should be that tied up.
  2. Constant input has become a compulsion. While I’m a huge proponent of relaxation, I find it more and more difficult to relax. I check my phone while I read. I rush a hot bath if I hear my phone beeping in my room. I can’t sit still in a car, at the table, or in the bathroom more than a minute without feeling the need to check my phone for emails, texts, or Facebook messages. I’ve developed a need for constant stimulation and an addiction to distraction.
  3. I can’t sleep. My brain is so used to running at such a high power and high speed all day that it’s impossible to shut down at night. I start dreaming before I fall asleep. I wake up exhausted. It’s become impossible to fully disengage.
  4. My kids deserve better. My husband deserves better. My customers and friends and associates all deserve better than what I’m giving them now. They deserve my best not my frazzled leftovers.
  5. This isn’t who God wants me to be. Nor is it who my husband wants me to be. Or my kids. Or my friends. I’m the one that has placed these impossible ideologies on myself. I’m the one that gets a high off of martyrizing myself on an altar of busyness.

But not this year. Not in 2018.

This year I will focus on the two words that God gave me in 2017: Focus & Consistency. While I learned a great deal about them, it has only been within this last month that I’ve truly started to embrace them.

This year I will hang up my Super-Mom cape and give myself permission just to be who I am. I will give myself permission to let people down. I will give myself permission to not volunteer every time I see a need that I could fulfill. I will give myself permission to put the phone down and walk away. I will give myself permission to say No. I will give myself permission to relax.

This year I will work hard to be in the moment with those around me.

This year I will be content with my messiness and my imperfections.

This year I will do one thing at a time.

This year I will breathe.

Advertisements

Healing the Heart- Crying, Jesus, & Root Beer

Just a few hours ago I blogged about trusting the heart. After a horrific week of tragic news from various family members, I knew what I needed.

A good cry. And Jesus.

And a Root Beer.

So I asked my husband to take me for a drive down my favorite road in Central Florida. At sunset. Because that’s where I see Jesus. And because my favorite soda stop is at the end of that road. Because my husband knows the look on my face when I need to take a drive, he hopped in the car and we drove.

cloud-13

Not only was the show amazing in the sky, but God had synchronized our drive to the absolute perfect music.

cloud-4

The first song on the radio was, “Jesus Bring the Rain” by Mercy Me.

I am Yours regardless of
The dark clouds that may loom above
Because You are much greater than my pain
You who made a way for me
By suffering Your destiny
So tell me what’s a little rain
So I pray

So I started to tear up. A little.

cloud-11

So the sky kept glowing and the music kept getting more and more powerful. The next song on the radio was “Ever Be” by Aaron Shust.

You Father the orphan
Your kindness makes us whole
And You shoulder our weakness
And Your strength becomes our own
Now You’re making me like You
Clothing me in white
Bringing beauty from ashes
For You will have Your bride

Free of all her guilt and rid of all her shame
And known by her true name and it’s why I sing

Your praise will ever be on my lips, ever be on my lips

That’s when the tears started flowing.

cloud-10

cloud-6

Despite the pain. Despite the stress. Despite the hurt. Despite it all… God is good.

cloud-3

By the time we reached my soda stop, I had tears streaming down both cheeks so my sweet husband drove me through the orange groves so that my crying and my praising could continue on a few more minutes. I let it all out. The root beer could wait.

cloud-2

That’s when “Strong Enough” by Matthew West came on the radio and I took in a deep breath and felt God filling up my lungs with His peace. This messiness. This shame. This pain. It’s going to be alright. It’s ok to take a day to ponder and process and cry and talk it out. It’s ok to admit I can’t do this by myself. Thank God, I don’t have to.

I know I’m not strong enough to be
Everything that I’m supposed to be
I give up
I’m not strong enough
Hands of mercy won’t you cover me
Lord right now I’m asking you to be
Strong enough
Strong enough

That’s when He showed me that there’s healing in the brokenness. Only God can heal the heart.

cloud-1

My heart may hurt right now, but my heart will heal. His healing has already begun.

Psalms 147:3 He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds.

1 Peter 2:24 He himself bore our sins in his body on the tree, that we might die to sin and live to righteousness. By his wounds you have been healed.

 

 

Trusting the Heart

I learned a long time ago that you cannot always trust a person’s words. Sometimes even a person’s actions are not an accurate barometer of who that person truly is. You know, the real person- not just the person that people see on the surface. People make mistakes. They go through phases. They are often misled or misguided. People are people. And as the adage goes, you can’t judge a book by it’s cover.

broken-heart

But we have to judge people by something. We have to make decisions and responses and relationships with people based on some variable. For years I struggled with this. Mainly because I was not brought up in what I now would deem an emotionally secure environment. My parents did the absolute best they could but they were still reeling from their own upbringings and trying to establish security of their own. I do not fault them for not being able to provide it for me. But as a parent now, I still don’t get how they allowed it.

It honestly wasn’t until after I married my husband Bob that I recognized the variable that I could (and should) use to filter a person’s words and actions and attitudes. It’s the heart. When you’re married to a person with a traumatic brain injury, you learn that you cannot always trust a person’s words. But I began to rely on what I knew about his heart. And while sticks and stones still leave scratches and broken bones, they don’t end marriages. Not when you know and trust someone’s heart. I trust that my husband loves me. I trust that  my husband would never intentionally hurt me. I trust that my husband always has my best interest at heart. And I trust that he’ll make mistakes along the way but that it will never negate all the things that I just stated which are true.

This has been an emotionally trying week. A week of spiritual assaults on so many different fronts that I’ve lost track. I’m even battling in my sleep. Literally and figuratively. Then today even more bad news came followed by a wave of tragedy and the heaviest of all the things weighing on me was this: I don’t think the people in my life (in my family) have learned how to read a person’s heart. Either that or their loyalties are seriously misplaced. I don’t know. But it has devastating consequences.

I wouldn’t know how to go about telling someone how to do this. How to read someone’s heart and know whether or not their heart is a safe place. A good place. Maybe it’s not something that everyone can do but it’s something I now realize I’ve done my entire life.  For as long as I can remember, there have been people in my life who I viewed as “good” and then there were people who I viewed as …uncomfortable to be around. Now I view them as “bad” but in my innocence, I  never imagined that anyone in my family could be inherently “bad”. Bad people commit murders and robberies and rot in jail. My family was not bad. They just made me feel uncomfortable. Or sad. Or scared.

For years I was prodded (ok, required) to accept various forms of abuse because, well,…family is family. As an adult I was told… pushed…ok, required to accept hurtful words, toxic behaviors, and sinful lifestyles because… well, family is family.

Friends, I am here to tell you that a common last name or shared strand of DNA does NOT make family a safe place.

poisonous-people

Earlier this week, my husband and I were shook to the core to learn that our 3 year old nephew had been found dead. A long, messy story. But the adults in his life had failed him. Adults whose hearts I did not trust. Adults I was told to trust anyway because, well… family is family. “That’s just the way this family is” has been said far too many times. And now a precious child is dead. Why? Because… well, family is family.

Late last night, my grandmother passed a way. A woman dearly beloved by many. A pillar in her church and in her family. Yet a person who  rejected me at birth and hurt me badly. But I was never protected from it, defended when it occurred, or given grace when I walked away from it. I was expected to take it because, well… family is family. And “that’s just the way this family is.” Don’t get me wrong- I have some very fond memories of her. She had many wonderful qualities. But how do you decide if a person is good or bad based on their words or actions? Make a list? Weigh the good and bad words and deeds against each other? I don’t know. So I look at a person’s heart.

Then today I received even worse news regarding another family member who had sexually molested some younger family members. Again, someone I was encouraged to love and accept (because, well… family is family) but always feared.

No one can judge another man’s heart but God. Yet, He gives us common sense and guidance (when we ask for it) to discern the ways of man. No, we cannot always trust man’s words. No, we cannot always trust a man’s actions, though they tend to tell us more about a person than his words. But you can trust that a man’s heart is who he is. That doesn’t mean you have to shun him if his heart is not good. It doesn’t mean that you should deny his existence or badger him and belittle him. It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t forgive them because you absolutely should. Every time.  But we wise. Be on guard. Be prepared to defend and protect others from him. Don’t let your obedience in extending forgiveness overshadow the need to protect those who could still be hurt. Including yourself.

Most of my life I have been criticized, yelled at, ostracized, or at the very least, misunderstood for being wary of people whose hearts have troubled me. For keeping my children away from relatives whose hearts I did not trust to be good. To be safe. Today my heart grieves for the loss of a young child who could have been saved. I grieve not only for the relationship with my  grandmother that I “should have” had but also for the lack of action that any adult in my life had dared to take to stop the toxicity that had taken over the family. I sob for the young cousins who were violated in the most unimaginable of ways by the most unimaginable of people. Family is not always a safe place.

But I’ve never doubted the love of my Heavenly Father. I’ve always felt the safety of His wings around me. I can look back now and see what He spared me from. I can see what He spared my children from and I pray that He will bring healing and strength to my family members are that anguishing so much today.

I have no moral to this story. I have no shining nugget of wisdom to leave you with. I have no grand revelation to share. I just don’t want others to walk this same path if they can keep from it. Family absolutely SHOULD be a safe place. A sacred place. Where people grow and learn and thrive. But please, never allow your child to be in danger – emotionally, physically, or spiritually because… well, family is family.

I leave you only with a call to action:

Protect your children from abuse.

Protect your children from neglect.

Protect your children.

Just protect your children.

And be a safe place.