Finding Art & Beauty

It wasn't so long ago that I discovered I had the potential to be an artist. Certainly not in the realm of Shakespeare or Monet or Michelangelo, or even modern artists like Spielberg or Webber. I can't string together a bunch of letters and words and make them into poetry, or take clay to sculpt a human form. I'm nowhere near brushing strokes onto blank canvas and invoking emotion from their color, or bringing something out in people they didn't realize they had. I do know, however, that I have something that they also possessed: desire and heart, passion and potential. I'm just not sure what to do with it.

But isn't that what art is? Taking something ordinary and turning it into something extraordinary? Is it possible to do that with a life? Can you begin with an average mom of 4 kids, a bad credit score and no college degree and spin it into something amazing? Can you have a broken dishwasher, unanswered emails, a cheap bottle of wine and make it beautiful?

Which begs the question: what does beautiful look like? Is it a big house, a handsome husband, a career and a financial portfolio? Is it possible that there is beauty and creativity in the average? Those moments in which you take a deep breath and heave a heavy sigh of contentment - are those beautiful? I believe they are - or rather, they have the potential to be. I believe also that as children of The Creator, we're obligated to find it. He didn't call us to live average lives, but rather to have abundant lives. I know it's difficult when we're stuck in the middle of piled-up bills, stacked-up laundry and heaped-up baggage to fine the uniqueness that God created us with, but it's there. After all, He put it there for His glory.

I'm on a quest the find the beauty in the mundane and the creativity in the average. I'll let you know what I come across.

But First...

Luke 9:57-62
There have been many times in the last several years that I’ve put God off. Not intentionally, of course (yeah, right!). I’ve labeled it “discernment” or “waiting for God to move me.” I’ve put Him off for very good reasons: “But first I need to raise my kids…”, “But first I want to see Kris accept you as Savior…”, “But first I need to finish, or do, or see (insert task here)…” The fact is, though, that I was attempting to convince myself and God that I could just stay in my little bubble of life and not rely on His timing. I was so selfish to believe that nobody needed me outside my family, and I continually used them as an excuse to stay stuck. There’s not anything wrong with putting our families first; I believe God honors our time as wives and moms. I was serving them exclusively, however, all in the name of comfort and complacency.

Recently God has been changing my heart and quietly whispering in my ear. He’s placed people around me, shown me His Word and has been bringing my husband closer to Himself. All of these things have helped me find that He’s placed within me a real passion outside of my family. Much to my surprise, I’ve found that my heart aches for young women, whether they’re labeled at-risk or affluent. I want them to know the complete and unconditional love that their heavenly Father has for them, regardless of what their earthly fathers may look like. I desperately want to instill in them a sense of self-worth and pride so that they make life choices that reflect the confidence they have in the hope that only Jesus gives.

In this story in Luke, a man comes up to Jesus while He’s walking along the road on His way to Jerusalem. I can only assume he’s heard of this guy, Jesus before, because he comes up and says (something like), “Sure, Jesus, I’ll follow you. Sounds like fun!” The first thing Jesus does is challenge him. He and the other guys he was with immediately start to back peddle. I imagine they’re thinking, “Hey, wait a minute. This isn’t what I bargained for. On second, thought I think I’ll….ah…..oh, yeah, I’ve got some family stuff first.” After hearing their excuses, Jesus ends the conversation with, “No procrastination. No backward looks. You can’t put God’s kingdom off till tomorrow. Seize the day.” (The Message)

God doesn’t want our excuses. He already knows we’re busy with life. He’s the one that gifted us with family, careers, social lives and responsibilities – all the things we, in turn, use as excuses to put off His divine purpose for our lives. It’s challenging to give up our own hopes and dreams and follow God leading us. The fact is that He has designed each of us uniquely so that we can serve Him first.

Are you listening to what God is saying to you?
What has He given you a heart for that you aren’t pursuing?
What are you using as an excuse to stay comfortable?

Let me know. I'd love to hear your story.

Me According to Colin

Below is one of my Mother's Day presents from Colin. The words in italics are his:

My mom's name is Joy. She is 20 years old and weighs 30 pounds. Her hair is black and her eyes are blue. She cooks macaroni and cheese the best and she loves to eat broccoli. I think her favorite color is pink. She doesn't like to clean the backyard very much. She likes to watch movies on tv. My mom spends a lot of time at her job. I'll bet my mom would like to have earrings. I hope she knows how much I love her! Love, Colin

Don'tcha just LOVE kids!

Well, It's Official!

I put in my resignation Tuesday morning. Overall it was well-received by both my administrator and my supervisor. Neither one of them were overly excited about it, however, they both totally understand my desire to be with the kids. So, that's the news - June 12 will be my last day at work. Then I'll be a "normal mommy" according to Colin!

My Life's Greatest Calling

I've been struggling a lot lately with managing working full-time and mommying full-time. When I came back to work almost exactly three years ago, I really thought I could juggle both home and job. I thought that as the kids got older, they'd become more self-sufficient and I'd have more time with Kris and less guilt about leaving them. It turns out that for the most part, the opposite is true. Surprisingly, they still need me - just in different ways. I find my lunch breaks taken up with pick-ups and drop-offs and I've had to take several hours of sick time for appointments, school activities and special time with the kids. Many afternoons I play the part of mediator over the phone after school. A job which, quite frankly, I can't stand. It breaks my heart to tell my kids that I don't have time to solve their problems, manipulate them into doing their homework, or threaten to take away priveleges. It's so very frustrating to parent them in the afternoons from 20 minutes away, only to get home and still have to manage their lives. Don't get me wrong, I am blessed with an incredible husband, who also is also an awesome daddy, but let's face it: Mommying is something only I can do.

I dream of the day when I can get up early, spend time with Jesus, work out for 30 minutes (cardio & strength), fix my kids a well-balanced breakfast and send them off to school on time, with a nutritious home made lunch in hand, after sitting down at the table with them as we pray over our day.

Our reality right now, however is this: dragging myself out of bed 20 minutes late, multi-tasking through signing permission slips, showering, praying & counting out change for their lunch, while screaming at them to get their lazy tooshies out of bed, followed by me threatening to ground them until the Second Coming - and all of that takes place before we leave the house 10 minutes late!

I'm convinced at this point in my life that mediocrity reigns supreme. I've gotten so far as being able to do most things in both parts of my life adequately for maybe 30 or so consecutive hours. After that, the balls drop and splatter (to make yet another mess) at my feet. I'm tired of not measuring up, of feeling left out, of not quite making things right. I know that the "Superwoman" goal is a myth and that the concept of a perfect "Proverbs 31" woman is unattainable, at least for me. Since it's getting to the point that something will have to give, I'm giving y'all a head's up: I'm choosing my family. This, after all, is what I believe my greatest calling is. The legacy I want to leave is one of faith and not one of business. I know I'm fortunate to work in a church, and that on some scale, my 40 hours a week away fromt the kids have some sort of eternal impact, or maybe not... Regardless, my kids are much more important than typing letters, organizing events and answering phone calls. I want them to know that. I want them to know that they are loved unconditionally and completely, not only by me and Kris, but by their heavenly Father. I want them to relish in the laughter and fun that I haven't recently had the opportunity to give them.

I know full well that there is no perfect mom - working or not - that exists. I'm not at all trying to be that. I'm sure when I finally commit to being home more that there will be days that drive me to tears. I already know how crazy I feel when I am home with them. However, I also know that being available to them, engaging them and loving them is the best thing I can do with my life.

Pray for me.

Apologies to Karla Sue

Over the last several years, I've started apologizing to my mom for specific things I did as a kid. "Why?" you may ask. I'll tell you: because my kids do them to me and it makes me realize how selfish and insensitive I was. Here's a list of recent ones:

1. I'm sorry for thinking you had nothing better to do with your day than to meet my every whim - spoken and unspoken.

2. I'm sorry for getting sick on a day that you had 831 things on your to-do list and I needed you home to clean up my vomit.

3. I'm sorry I vomited on your newly-cleaned floors.

4. I'm sorry for thinking that God created you to be a walking ATM and that you could just deposit money into yourself from the money tree that I thought grew in the backyard.

5. I'm sorry for every time you disagreed with Dad over the most effective way to discipline me and it grew into an argument between the two of you.

6. I'm sorry when I argued with you about anything - but mostly, homework.

7. I'm sorry for every single time I rolled my eyes.

8. I'm sorry for being funny and/or cute when you really wanted to backhand me.

9. I'm sorry for making you look like a bad mom in public. (This includes misbehaving, bad dressing, stains on clothing and arguing with Mark, among other things)

10. I'm sorry for every time I thought I was smarter than you and Dad.

If you're reading, Mom, thanks for forgiving me! I love you!

The Difference Between Boys & Girls

Since we have three fairly rambunctious boys and 1 fairly independent girl, I feel pretty qualified to assess the difference between the two sexes. Following is my conclusion so far. Know that I reserve the right to edit, add to and otherwise change my point of view, as we have barely even started the teenage years...

1. Boys come with sound effects. The funniest thing for me and Stacee to do is watch and listen to our boys, Kris included, communicate. They can't get through a paragraph, much less a sentence, without adding noices that would rival a South American jungle during mating season. Stacee, on the other hand, didn't talk unti she was nearly 18 months (late by Smith family standards). She used her face exclusively to communicate - and still does. She's like her mama: all her thoughts run across her face and you can see them in her eyes. It's almost as entertaining watching her have a conversation as it is watching the boys.

2. Boys are perpetually dirty (especially Brennan, our "muck magnet"). It fascinates me that Stacee simply can't stand to have her hands dirty, a speck on her clothes or food on her face, and never could. Conversely, the boys could be covered with any manner of goop, dirt, yuck and mess and think they're ready to go out to dinner and actually come in contact with the public! Sometimes I think that I'll have to actually chisel the stuff off the little boys' hands. I'm relieved to say that A.J. doesn't suffer from this affliction as much any more. There have been times, however, that he comes home from riding his bike with his buddies and he stinks. He can actually clear a room! I guess that's what 14 year-olds do. I can't decide which is worse: the look of being dirty of the smell of it.

3. Girls are harder to raise than boys. Now, it may appear that it's too early to make this assessment, as our one girl is only twelve. We haven't hit the infamous teenage years with her. She hasn't started dating, or loitering at the mall, or texting in the middle of the night, but with nearly a decade and a half of parenting under our belts, I can tell you that she is harder to raise. She costs more money, more time and sometimes, more energy. I realize that all of these things might be related to her personality and not necessarily her gender. Kris and I have found that we worry more about her and certainly want to protect her more. We've found that we've often said we'd rather have one girl and three boys, than three girls and one boy.

I'm certain there will be additions to this list as the years go on, but don't misunderstand me. Our kids and their growing up process fascinates me. It's a testament to the God we serve that four people with individual personalities and characteristics can come into being from the same set of dna. They're all being raised essentially the same way: with lots of sarcasm, millions of hugs and tons of laughter, yet they are so distinctly different. What an awesome miracle Kris and I get to be a part of.

I just hope and pray they still like us when they're parents themselves!