MY DAYS OF SMALL THINGS

For as long as I can remember, I wanted a family and, just like my own mom, I wanted to stay home with my kids.  Having excelled in both academics and athletics as a student, I felt certain I was going to rock staying at home and that I would give Martha Stewart a run for her money.  Homemade Halloween costumes, neatly coifed hair, cake from scratch and a home straight from the pages of the latest Pottery Barn catalog would be the standard.

Fast forward several years (okay, decades) and you will find that the reality of my every day is vastly different from the life I imagined.  Laundry piled high, more crumbs on my floor than grains of sand on the beach, and on most days our youngest’s hair is not even combed, much less coifed.  I find myself pulling out my “I have 5 kids” card a lot, but truth be told, I’m not rocking my stay-at-home world as well as I thought I would.

In fact, a few weeks ago, I found myself drowning in the chaos otherwise known as my home.  Mounds of laundry had quietly morphed into mountains.  I was still in my PJ’s well beyond a socially acceptable hour and there wasn’t a clean spoon to be found in the house to eat our gourmet breakfast of cold cereal.  

            That’s it!  The proverbial straw (or spoon) that broke the camel’s back.

            I flopped on the couch littered with Littlest Pet Shop creatures and scattered remnants of my failed attempt at extreme couponing.  I sat there crying.  First, in a “pity me” kind of way, which then quickly turned into an ugly, angry “why me” wail.  Was I doomed to live the same exact day, over and over again with no end in sight like Bill Murray’s character in Groundhog Day? Alarm.  Breakfast.  Pack lunches.  Off to school.  Dishes.  Laundry.  Cleaning.  Lunch.  Drop off.  Errands.  Pick-up.  Homework.  More laundry.  Soccer practice.  Soccer practice.  Dinner.  More dishes.  Bedtime.  Repeat.  The futility of it all was overwhelming.

            I grasped desperately for my Bible and devotional as a drowning woman reaches for a life preserver.  I flipped to verses I had before turned to in times of need.  Skimmed chapters in my devotional I thought might speak to my anguish.  Something?  Anything?

There it was.

A verse I had never come across before.

“Who despises the day of small things?” Zechariah 4:10(NIV)

And somewhere,

From the very depths of me,

A weak and defeated and ashamed voice answered,

“I do…”

Maybe not every day, but there are days…too many of them…when I despise the small things that surround me.

And I hated myself for such a thought.

This guilt inducing revelation prompted me to dig further.  What did this verse mean?  What context was it in?  How did it apply to my days?  These words were not outright comforting, but they spoke loudly to me in the moment.  Further research was required….

Is God Your "Soft One"?

After the first four kiddos, my husband and I were quite certain we had seen and experienced a lot regarding children’s habits, quirks and idiosyncrasies.  In fact, we were probably a bit too confident in our ability to roll with the punches UNTIL…

…along came Makenna!  While we expected each of our kids to be different, #5 decided to declare her own individuality from the get-go.  From her quite scary “push her out or she may not make it” entrance into this world to her “I don’t need to walk until I am 17 months attitude”, she has challenged everything we had come to expect from our Kovacs Kids.  So, when the issue of a security blanket came about, why would she start conforming now?  Yes, Macdaddy is our only blankie kid!

Over the past couple of years, Makenna has grown ever so attached to this swatch of fabric affectionately known as “Soft One”.  Being the last of three girls, she had several pink, fuzzy blankets with which she could snuggle, but, forsaking all others, this one and only this one was the Chosen One…her “Soft One”.  

It looked like all the others, but she knew the difference.  She could see the difference.  Feel the difference.  Smell the difference.  Even in the darkness of her room at bedtime, she would call me out if I ever tried to pass one of the cleaner, less dingy imposters off as her Soft One.  “No Mom…I want Soft One!” she would cry.

She cuddles it.

She cradles it.

She craves it.

She talks to it.

She rubs it.

She hugs it.

She runs with it.

She dances with it.

She covers herself with it.

And at times she is absolutely desperate for it.

Whether she is sad, happy, tired, hungry, bored, scared, angry or uncertain…Soft One is never far from her mind and always close at hand.  And when she gets ahold of it….aaaah…the look on her face is one of pure joy and peace.

Watching her one day with her blanket got me thinking.  Is God my “Soft One”?  Is He yours?

Do you reach for Him when you wake unsettled in the middle of the night?

Do you make sure He is with you wherever you go?

Does He ride in the car with you? Run errands with you?

Do you dance with Him when you are happy?

Do you take Him to church?

Do you cling tightly to Him when life gets uncertain?

The Bible reminds us that He is to be our Comforter (Psalm 94:19), our Lord of Peace (2 Thessalonians 3:16), our Joy (Psalm 43:4) and, even, our Friend (John 15:15).  If only I could remember that for a single day!

Now, before you start getting all child psychologist on me, I am aware that at some point Soft One needs to become a distant memory.  As we prepare Makenna for the possibility of preschool in the fall, we have already discussed with her the need to learn to rely less on the blanket (even though it is stinkin’ cute).  One day soon, she will grow old enough that she doesn’t need it at all.  The blanket will be replaced with Barbies, books and boys and a small part of me will be very sad. **sigh**

In the meantime, I am grateful that I will never grow too old to seek comfort in God.  I will never have to relegate Him to a memory box in the corner of the garage.  I will never have to find a way to manage a single day without Him.  He is always there to cuddle with, talk to, dance with and cover me.  I pray for the daily craving and desperation to spend time with my “Soft One”…

“When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.” Psalm 94:19 NIV

WHAT AM I THINKING?!?!

The simple answer is: I’m not! 

The long, complicated answer is, well, long and complicated, but this is my blog so, here goes…

Anyone who knows me knows, I am not a spontaneous, spur-of-the moment, by-the-seat-of-my-pants type of gal.  I think even the smallest of things through… A LOT!  

Beginning to end.

Plans A, B and C.

Alternate endings.

What will everyone think?

You name it, I will overthink it and, when all is said and done, I land on safe or not-at-all.  In terms of my comfort zone, these are wonderful places to land.  In terms of this game of life, these squares don’t get me very far.  I thought I had come to terms with my complacency until…

Flashback to church a week ago this past Sunday…sitting in my usual seat (back row of the front section right next to the pole), and our pastor is in the second week of a multiple part series titled “Think-Don’t Think”.  The first week we were encouraged to think before we speak.  This particular week we were told “don’t think” when it comes to obeying God’s will. Oooooooooo…..my heart ached.  It was as if God had reached into my chest, poked my heart and said, “I am talking to you!”

You see, this blog is not new.  It isn’t even sort of new.  God planted the idea in me over a year ago and I have been “thinking” about writing it ever since.  I had the title, a composition book full of ideas and quotes and verses, and the natural tendency to overthink it.  By the time I had finished thinking it through, I thought it wasn’t right.  I thought I couldn’t do it the way I thought it should be done.  I thought it wasn’t going to be perfect.  I thought no one wanted to listen to my rambling.  I thought I might make a mistake. I thought people might think me crazy.   I thought and thought and thought myself right back to the “not-at-all” space in my game of life.

So there I sat, in the middle of church, heart racing and palms sweating.  I knew God was talking to me and I knew what He was telling me to do.  Don’t think.  Trust me.  Obey me.  Move off your not-at-all space.  Start playing the game.

This is me…

Not thinking.

Trusting.

Obeying.

Moving.

Playing.

A new blog has begun!

“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 NIV