There’s a podcast I love called Terrible, Thanks for Asking. It’s about being ok with not being ok. It’s about grieving really awful stuff. It’s about, when someone asks you how you’re doing, not just answering, “I’m fine.” It’s about sometimes saying, “I’m not fine. Everything is awful right now.” It’s about vulnerability and honesty and imperfection, tragedy and death and unbearable loss. Continue reading
The holiday season this year has not been merry for me. This past week has been particularly trying, exposing for all the world to see my poor parenting under stress. Yesterday I dropped off my two youngest boys with a friend while I rushed to keep an appointment. Both boys were sockless in late December, the baby still in pjs, his face orange and messy because he ate mac and cheese—yes, fake fluorescent-orange powder, boxed mac and cheese—for breakfast. This morning’s breakfast was Christmas cookies . I reason that they can’t be any more sugary than donuts or Pop Tarts or Lucky Charms. Right? Continue reading
Meara: Does God care about my baby dolls?
Me: He cares about anything that’s important to you, so if you care about them, he does too.
Meara: So does he care about our kitchen?
My dear friend Kristen, mother of three boys ages four and younger, recently posted the list below on Facebook. I loved it so much, and she graciously gave me permission to reproduce it here. Here’s why I love it. First of all, it made me laugh. I identified with every single one of her penances. I love that there can be as many different parenting philosophies as there are parents in the world, but there are also so many things that all mothers share and understand. I also love this list because it is so encouraging. It’s so easy at the end of a long day at home with kids to look around at your toy-cluttered house, laundry piles, and spaghetti-crusted dishes and wonder what in the world you have to show for your day. This list is a reminder of all we mamas lay down for the sake of our babies and families. Continue reading
“In the morning, while it was still very dark, he got up and went out to a deserted place, and there he prayed.” Mark 1:35
I crave the peace of early mornings. The silence is almost physical – a soft and welcome assault on my ears. I was never a morning person, but with three children, mornings have become my refuge. Sometimes I am productive, busily putting things in order, finishing leftover chores and making breakfast before anyone is awake to distract me. Sometimes I am contemplative, praying and listening for God in the quiet. Sometimes I am blessedly unproductive, resting in the stillness before the day requires anything of me. Continue reading
I had the privilege to be a guest blogger for a good friend: author, pastor and father, Adam Feldman. You can find my post about how motherhood has impacted my faith here, and while you’re at it, look around and enjoy his writing!
I met Adam and his wife Kim several years ago, when their church was meeting in the living room of someone’s house, none of us had kids yet, and we had a lot more free time to spend at coffee shops, reading and writing and talking. It’s amazing to see where we are now – Metanoia has grown by leaps and bounds, we’ve all had a bunch of kids, jobs and life changes, we see each other much less, but our hearts are still close.
I love when that happens.
“The light of truth burns without a flicker in the depths of a house that is shaken with storms of passion and fear.”
This line from Merton reminds me of a poem I wrote called There Is a Face that opened with these lines:
There is skin, and under
the skin, bone and under
the bone, a steady light –
a tall flame on a still night.
I wrote it imagining our bodies as the house Merton speaks of – a hall of flesh and bone with a holy fire burning deep inside. That still flame, that unwavering light, is the Love which created us and for which we were created. The still point is finding and living in the fire of that Love.
My first baby is FIVE! He just started KINDERGARTEN! And though I can’t believe my little curly-headed son is now a big boy who wears Star Wars t-shirts, there’s a lot of sweet in that bitter because I get to hear him say things like this:
“I think how God made us is, he got a lot of people puzzles and He put them together and threw them down to earth.”