On July 23, 2004 I was given a promotion. One that I had been expecting for awhile, but as with all promotions, the timing has to be just right, and everything needs to line up in order for it to happen. The thing about getting a promotion is that there is so much unknown... you are walking unchartered territory, you are expected to work harder and much longer to earn the title you were just given, and others begin to look at you in a different way.
My promotion gave me a title that I knew I would keep the rest of my life:
Mom.
This sweet
little pudgy boy entered my life...just one week past his due date.
I almost died. I mean, not literally of course, modern medicine would hardly allow for that, but seriously, I almost died.
The funny thing about having a baby boy is that almost immediately people check out the size of his hands, or his feet and then comment on how he is going to be a great basketball player someday or how he has the perfect start to be an outstanding football player and he is destined to play baseball because just look at him, he's a boy.
So you buy balls. Footballs...soccer balls...basketballs...baseballs...all of them in toddler size...collegiate size...professional size...because, well, he's a boy. And boys play sports.
Then at 4 months old you start dressing your boy up in football jersey's and dream that someday, maybe 18 years down the road, after a lot of practice, your son might be wearing that jersey for real.
Here's the thing though, and you might want to sit down for this, not all boys have a passion for sports.
I know. I will give that one a minute to process.
My boy is one of them.
Again, I will give you a minute.
Now don't get me wrong, the kid loves the rush he gets from flying down a mountain at top speeds on his snowboard, all while I sit at the top of the run crying and figuring out how to get down without breaking my old lady hip. And he will shoot hoops or throw the football around a little bit. But his eyes do not twinkle when he has a ball in his hand.
Our son turned 10 this past summer, and I have learned so much over the past decade about what our culture values, what is acceptable boy behavior, and how we, as a society, make our children feel like they have worth.
***I feel like I need a disclaimer here...please do not hear what I am not saying. If your child has a passion for sports, is thriving in them, feels valuable and accomplished because of what they do, I think that's great. I get it. And this post is not meant to belittle that at all.***
Moving on.
Since the time Holden was a baby it has been my prayer that he would be a boy/man after God's own heart. That God would grant him wisdom. (Sort of like King David, minus the affairs and what-not.) And part of what comes when you pray a prayer like that for your son is that if he is following hard after God, he may not be running hard after the things that his mom or his uncle or his grandpa or his peers or society feels are worthy.
A few months ago we were sitting in a doctors office and when the doctor came in he asked Holden what he liked to do, to which Holden just sort of shrugged his shoulders. The doctor pried a little more and asked him if he like to play sports. Nope. Then asked if he was a big gamer. Nope. He went on and finally said, "Then what is it man? What do you do for fun?" To which Holden replied, with a sheepish shrug of his shoulder, "I like to work."
There is no doubt that this child of mine lives to work. He feels validated, important, and fulfilled when he has a job to do. Perhaps much the same way your child feels after hitting a home run or making three pointers for his team.
I think so often we try to make our kids fit into a mold that our culture has produced. Rather than seeing our kids for who God created them to be, each with unique gifts and talents, we assume they will participate in a particular sport or activity, because "I played it when I was in school and loved it."
I love in Ephisians 2:10(NLT) where it says, "
For we are God's masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus, so we can do the good things he planned for us long ago." And the really neat thing about all of this is seeing how different and unique God made each of us, and how it all works together for His good.
A few years ago I had to come to terms with reality...I am not a good decorator; I do not love to clean; I can lead praise team at church, but you will never hear a song of mine on the radio; I don't have the desire to run a marathon; my cookies never turn out how they are supposed to; and crafting feels like a form of torture to me. God obviously did not gift me in these areas. And I have wasted so much time comparing myself to others, and pondering what I am not, that for a long time I missed out on some of the good things that God planned long ago for me to do.
Bummer.
I'm not sure if it's just a North America thing, or a Pella, Iowa thing or if it's that way all over the world. But I feel like there is so much pressure to always act perfect, look put together, have children that are quiet and well behaved, maintain your figure even after bringing 4 children into the world, bake gourmet treats that are only found and successful on Pinterest and the list goes on. And quite frankly, I have had
enough. I have tried to add more flour and less butter to my cookies, but the truth is, baking just really not my gift or passion.
I have come to realize that no matter how hard I try, no matter how much time, money and effort I put into it, there are certain things that God simply did not create me to do. So take a minute and examine your gifts, and consider what it is that God created you specifically to do.
And go do it.
Please note that I took bit of a break from the world of blogging(3 months to be exact) so that I could survive the holidays. Mission accomplished. And now I'm back. Pretty sure the only one that even noticed my hiatus was my mom, but that's cool.
Do me a favor, dear reader. Go and find a rock. It can be big, small, round, jagged, smooth, rough...I don't really care, just go find one.
How do I explain this IF:Gathering I attended last weekend with 2,000 other women locally, and hundreds of thousands of other women electronically from all over the globe? It's hard to do at best. 
We sang amazing songs, such as Break Every Chain, Good Good Father, Oceans, Even So Come, Sovereign Over Us, and more. Listen to them. They are good, and will move you, even while you sit at your computer and pretend to read my blog. And go ahead and sing along with them, God will be pleased with your worship, even if you're in your jammies with your hair in a messy tail and no make-up on. God still loves you woman. 
The theme of the whole event remains "IF God is real...THEN what?" So I'm asking myself the same thing. It's one of those scary questions that you maybe would rather not ask, because if you ask, you 
Perk number 2 from my cleanse is the amount of extra energy I have! I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not out running a marathon or anything, I don't have THAT much extra energy. But instead of getting in a sugar-slump midday, I find myself perky-ish and my mind is clear(er). Let's be real here, I still have 4 kids that drain me physically, mentally. and emotionally, but I am shocked at how alert I feel. I feel almost human again. 
One of the major draw-backs of doing a cleanse is that I was not always able to eat what my family was eating. For example, Cheeseburgers were on the menu one night, but instead of having a hamburger with cheese, mayo, ketchup, and a bun, I had a plain burger with guacamole on it. I mean, it was good and all, but there is just something about a hamburger that requires all the fixins. Sort of like...
Another thing that falls into the "bad" category is my inability to eat what I want, where I want, when I want. I took the girls thru the drive-thru at McDonald's for lunch one day because I am just that dumb, and had to plug my nose so I could resist the temptation of the fries. I mean, come on, THE FRENCH FRIES PEOPLE! I had been gnawing on raw spinach salads for exactly 9 days when this beautiful box of uneaten fries was left on my table. Be still my heart. I am happy to say that I was able to place them in the trash, uneaten, without cheating. And honestly, the only thing that kept me from completely inhaling them was the fact that they were cold by the time I spotted them. And cold fries aren't quite as tempting as hot, greasy, salty fries. Mmmm.
Yesterday I started my day off on a better foot, found 36 seconds to make and eat breakfast instead of the standard 23, which meant I had time to make an egg, peel a banana, and mix my fiber drink in the blender with ice so it was more of a smoothie per say and less of a glorified cup of Pepto Bismol. 
Since I was about to cave, it was clearly time to eat again. And again, my amazing mom pulled through with these salads for each of us, which was Organic Spring Mix lettuce with a hard-boiled egg and homemade salad dressing. You can call her Becky Homecky. The only thing that would have made this salad better would have been some of Momma Jane's homemade croutons. But alas, this are on the naughty list for the next week. Sigh. 
