Confessions from a Thirty Something Momma

Two weeks ago, as I was thinking of my upcoming school days and the end result of a potential career as an Interpreter, I had a deep sense that I had a different road ahead of me. It’s difficult to explain. One could say it was discernment or a preminition. In all cases, I had a deep sense that I had a different course ahead of me. I shared my feelings with my husband and shrugged it off. I considered it may perhaps be all the road blocks I had to overcome to get registered for my class. I wasn’t sure. But I didn’t know if this was a stirring to march forward and break barriers, or a gentle preparation from God that he has plans for me yet. And that his plans and my plans may not be the same. The feeling ebbed away for a few days. And then unbidden, three days before my first class, I got the same feeling. It was even stronger than before. I told my husband, “I have this feeling that things are going to turn out differently than I planned. I am still pursuing school, I am still mo...

It's been 15 years since I attended a college course. I never did quite finish my degree or college education. Instead of completing my studies, I moved to Europe, volunteered, and traveled for 3-1/2 years. I returned from Europe, married, and started a family. Eventually, my desire to complete my degree as a Sign Language Interpreter come bubbling back to the surface of my heart. Today, 4 years after realizing I wanted to return and complete that degree, I started my first day of school. I'm excited and eagerly looking forward to begin this long road to complete my education. It's going to be slow at first. Only one class a semester, while simultaneously caring for my children. Also finding ways outside of the classroom to regain my lost [ASL] language skills. I have a plan, and so far I am on track, with a few adjustments along the way. My husband asked me recently, if time and money were not an object, what would I want to do with my life or my time? I looked a...

I just ran. Outside and in the rain. And I loved it. Seriously, I enjoyed it. I don’t know if it’s the exhilaration of running in the rain, or the freedom from not being aware of how sweaty I am or how hot it is outside, but in all cases it was refreshing. As I ran, my mind went to a bible verse that the Apostle Paul wrote: “ But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind   and straining toward what is ahead,   I press on   toward the goal to win the prize   for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus. ” (Phil 3:13b-14) I’m notorious for being an on again, off again runner. Sometimes I run for months. Other times I can’t seem to keep it in gear. But when I am running, I get all sorts of feedback from different people. One of the most common remarks I get from non-runners is: “I could never run! I don’t know how you do it. I hate running.” Yet that’s what I was thinking about on my run tonight. Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is a...

One day years from now, my children are going to run across some blogs and journals I’ve written  throughout the years. I wonder what they will think.  Sometimes the pages or posts are filled with happy, funny, light toned blurbs. But some of them just outline that life is hard. I think about David in the Bible. He’s known for pouring out his anguish in song and poems. I can relate to that. Sometimes I’m nervous that people will read my writings years from now and think I was unhappy with my life. I am not. But … life is still hard. And for as many times my heart has swelled with joy and excitement, it’s equally been filled with pain and fear. I found myself in an emotional slump some weeks ago. After a long and trying year, my heart had about just enough of the stress I had been under. And I caved. I’d invited myself to a pity party weeks before and finally decided to show up. I wallowed. I ate. I drank. I sulked.  I checked out. I cried “woe is me… this stinks… I f...

I still recall the first day of school with fondness. New books and Trapper Keeper loose leaf binders. Sharpened pencils and unused pens in my back pack ready to be used. Friends to reconnect with after the summer break. New slouch socks and LA Gear high tops with my denim skirt and t-shirt rolled at the sleeves.  Wait, I’m giving away my age with that last one. Suffice it to say, it was all exciting. The first day of school signaled a new beginning and a fresh start at earning good grades and remarks. I always found that first week quite exciting. Years later, far beyond the days of my childhood school years, this school year brings a new kind of excitement. My firstborn will start his very first day of school! Aside from the fact that he’s been begging to go to school all year long, there are so many reasons to celebrate this momentous occasion. First I’m curious to see how much of my home training will be taken to school with him each day. I’ve tried hard to see th...

Write what you know. That’s what I’m told. I’ve heard that everyone has a story inside them to share. I’ve been told that no one can tell my story quite like me. So as I sit back and ponder these words, I have to ask myself, what do I know? I know the pain and sting of rejection. That feeling that I wasn’t good enough, especially when being my real self. I know the grip of fear. The paralyzing realization that I cannot stop mistakes, pain, or hurt from happening to myself or the ones I love, whether real or imagined. I know the shame of admitting that I don’t have enough: enough resources, enough time, and enough intelligence, even at times enough perseverance. I know the hurt of brokenness. I am too familiar with the hurts that exists due to the selfishness of others as well as the ones that exist due to self-centeredness of my own. I know the emptiness of loneliness. There’s a kind that keeps me busy day in and day out, constantly pouring my heart out, yet f...

Being a Mom is hard.  Really hard. The demands on my time often feel endless. Most days I am drained and worn out, too tired to do anything I wanted to get to “ after the kids are in bed .” I’ll be totally honest and transparent here: I complain about way too much. I complain about the tantrums and the potty training. I complain about the exhaustion and sleepless nights. I complain about the diaper changes and endless mounds of laundry. I even complain about how many times I have to reheat my coffee (if I can even manage to prepare myself a cup)! To my dismay, I often realize I spend more time complaining about my tasks and the endless work of teaching my kids to share and obey than I do being thankful for the job of being a mother. If there was a contest for “Whiny Mother of the Month,” I think I would merit a nomination. I wish I was exaggerating. But I know I’m not. That being said, I decided to do something different. Instead of reading or writing blogs commis...