My Joyful Mysteries, and A Revolution of Real

I can feel it.

It’s not just me. I have friends who also
feel it.

Something is coming. This Revolution of Real
came to me through prayer…but had been coming for some time. Before my Dark night of the Soul, I knew it.

I’d wake up during the night and write words to speak to Women, Families, Teenagers–words about the beauty of faith and life. But at the time I had no clue I’d go through the dark tunnel. And suddenly I was surrounded by darkness. I had no idea how I’d get out, but I did.

And here I am now, so incredibly different…and the calling is stronger. My words are deliberate. And my mission each day is to celebrate the good, the real, the broken, and the beauty of the human spirit.

I started this revolution having no idea how God was going to use me. And I have been completely overcome by the response. Everyday I receive messages and emails from people who feel the same way. Who feel the Spirit stirring and changing them.

And reaching for us.

It’s exhilarating to know that we can find hope and inspiration because of who we really are.

And are being changed to love who we really are.

Here we are, finding little small glimpses of hope amidst the real. The real that can be painful. The real that isn’t healed. But hope where we can live day by day, little by little.

Grace by Grace.

And it’s changing me. In ways I couldn’t even imagine. I don’t know where this is going to go…but I know it’s starting.

Can you feel it too?

From now on I will not be the Author of Friday…I have guest writers that will be telling their real. And it will be raw, and sometimes unfinished, and all theirs.

And I ask you to pray for me, and for them, and for each other. And pray that God will open the right doors. That God will do His Will, and the Spirit will lead the way- so that I can do what I’m called to.

When I started I hoped…

But I never imagined that using my voice, using my own experience, would allow me the gift of hearing yours.

Your real is beautiful.

The Human Spirit is beautiful.

Two years ago my heart began to stir. A year ago, I stopped sleeping. 6 months ago, I didn’t know if I would be here today, if I could make it through another day of Darkness. Three months ago, the sun came out and I begin to put the pieces of myself back together, and The Darkness was filled with His Light. One Month ago, I heard the stirring and began to just follow the lead.

Take the Facade away.
Bear the broken.
Embrace the Real.

And live.

6 months ago I wondered if it would ever end.

And now, the Spirit moves, and I find my faith stronger than it has ever been…

Even after the darkness.

And a still small mighty voice tells me again and again.

Take the Facade away.
Bear the Broken.
Embrace the Real.
Live.
…now you can begin.

(This is my 100 post!!!)

Today when I got the selfies I laughed because all of them were women I respect a lot…

All Mothers. Working Mothers. New Mothers. Stay at Home Mothers. Mothers.

Constantly trying and giving, and spending and being..

Giving so much.

Taking care of little people, big people, sick people. Living real lives of budgets and every other worry that comes with this messy life.

The every day…get up and just give.

All trying. All amazing.

And it’s not easy. Somedays are so much harder than others.

Someday you just want it to be easy. You don’t want to have to try so hard.

So here’s to you…beautiful Mothers. When you finish listen to one of my favorite songs, that has lifted me up today- and many other days, when I started picking away at myself…

But right now I’m choosing to say I’m ok today. I’m Right where I’m meant to be.

I took off my spanx and I’m wearing my comfy jeans. I cried off some makeup. I already worked out. My hair is kind of clean.

I am so loved. I am needed. And I need love, and others.

I’m right where I need to be.
I’m who I need to be.

I cried a little more and sat up…and said kind things about myself. I’m trying hard enough, and I am enough.

I asked you how you could be more kind? But then I answered my own question. I think today we could be a little more kind to ourselves.

I know you love your families. Your jobs. Your life.

And I think you are amazing.

taking

c

are if

Also thanks to Colbie Cailat…who puts it so beautifully. Share this with your daughters, your sisters, your mothers…you don’t have to try so hard. You are enough.

Doing this Revolution of Real has been an interesting stretch for me…I already thought I was a pretty open person but it’s made me really look at people with new eyes.

Life with new eyes. This life.

Most days can become monotonous…turn off alarm, work out, get home- pour coffee, boys up, breakfast, lunches made, lunch boxes lost, found, pray with them, kids leaving, lunches forgotten. Get Grace up, fed, dressed, dressed again, and layered, hair brushed, pray and teeth brushed, clothes changed, dropped off…(hours of work, cleaning, appts, laundry, volunteering, catching up, writing) pick up four kids, talk to teachers, drive and park, wait, pick up three more kids, drop off one, then two more, and come home to chores…homework, fighting, emailing teachers, working, lessons or practice, and getting dinner ready. Eat, go the bathroom- with at least one kid and the dog present, prayer, showers, more homework, bed time, read with Grace and bed time, read Saint book with boys, and bed time…and finally read by myself for five minutes before I put Grace back to bed three times, talk to Jonah, put Grace back in bed. Kiss Dyp. Set alarm…close eyes…(I wrote bedtime multiple times on purpose)

Beep beep beep, and Repeat.

This revolution has caused me to pause from the monotony and really look…Really See.

My life.

My kids.

And not fall into the monotony of parenthood, and housework, and marriage…which I’m not exactly perfecting.

It’s easy to compare myself to all the people I think are doing it better.

And I do.

And it’s easy to wish I could see things more clearly in the moment.

But I don’t.

Because I just lost it with two of my kids…who are fighting, and have friends over.

And I’m wondering why they can’t just be nice to each other.

And why I’m not Mother Teresa.

And my mind is filled to the brim with worries, and anxieties…will I pass my certification test this week? Will Jonah get the flu from the kid who keeps using his mouth piece without permission? Will Grace stop drinking the coffee creamer? Will I ever catchup on laundry? Will God open the doors for what he’s calling me too- or has he and have I walked by them? Will they find a cure for peanut allergies? Will Mary get it together on Downton Abbey? Will I ever make a pie without burning it? Will Miley Cyrus ever stop acting like that?

And they get more serious…

Will I lose my husband? Will I lose my kids? Will Someone hurt them? Will their wives hate me? Will one of us get really really sick?

And the worries without monotony keep coming…

Will my kids succeed?

Will they be loved?

Will they be friends as grown ups?

Will they go to Heaven?

And as I send all the kids out back and think and think, these thoughts tumble over the others as I clean my kitchen. But when I clean out Micah’s box in the kitchen and find the picture and thing he wrote in December about his Hero…

Jesus.

And suddenly I feel like maybe, just maybe things are going to be alright.

Maybe just maybe, life isn’t so monotonous, and that the good stuff is getting in there.

Close eyes. Open them…and begin again.

I need to trust this Hero to lead, and maybe he’ll just take care of it.

He’ll take care of them.

He’ll take care of me.

Everyday if I look, and watch, real life is pretty amazing.

I continue to be stretched. And I
Continue to see new things every day. Real things.

Real Heroes.

“Our lives begin to end the day we become silent about the things that matter.” -Martin Luther King Jr.

My Daniel.

I came down this morning, and saw him watching the “I have a Dream Speech” by himself. He watches it every year on the computer. The entire thing. He will talk about it later in the day and tell us his favorite part. Which changes every year.

When Daniel was born he came in less than two hours and close to three weeks early, and we were told by the nurse he was born “with the caul” and would have a sixth sense…because he had the veil of the amniotic sac around him and over his face when he shot out. Also I’m
not exaggerating, he shot out, the doctor wasn’t even at the table and my Mom
caught him.

“With the Caul.” Forever I spelled it wrong until I researched it, and thought they said “call” when in fact it’s “caul” but find that he also has lived “the call.” He lives fast and furiously and always has seemed to be ahead of his time.

He told us when he was 5 he was going to be a priest. Now he says he’ll either be a priest, or if he’s called to marriage(“because being a Dad is the coolest job”) he’d like to be a missionary. He is a class leader, and is the only kid I know who has actually gotten in a few fist fights defending friends, but is still incredibly peaceful. He’s the first to apologize, and knows just about everything there is to know about being a Christian. He’s also a little catholic saint scholar.

He is brave. He confronted a ref at his soccer game who was coaching the other team in Spanish but didn’t realize that their team, including my son, are bilingual and knew exactly what he was saying.

Martin Luther King Jr. lived his calling. He changed a nation. He changed the dynamic of our nation. Not because he was perfect, but because he knew what God was asking of him, and he did it. Valiantly. Bravely.

He said things that were brilliant and profound…and people weren’t always ready to hear it. But still, he said it. And it impacts us today.

Daniel is impacted by what people say. And he thinks about it, and will bring it up later and want to discuss it again…

And he is before his time.

If he decides someday to get married, he will be a great dad. He will also be a great husband, especially if remembers to eat and not let his blood sugar drop. But he will be amazing. And I believe change lives.

If he decides to become a missionary he will speak the word. And change lives.

And if he becomes a priest, he will change lives as well…because he is ahead of his time.

In school he’s found already, that kids aren’t always ready to hear him…He openly talks about God and has already been told that some families don’t believe in him. And he is respectful and will later talk to me about it. And then pray for whoever it is at dinner.

He’s not judgmental. He loves people for who they are.

But still he prays.

And I’m inspired because I don’t always remember to love and just pray first…

Parenting all of my kids has changed my life and continually does- and each one is so different. And I see their paths like the little creases and lines in my hand going their own way.

But them having faith has been my main mission. Or having a chance to have faith.

I don’t ever worry about Daniel not having faith, because he lives and breathes it.

Having kids changed my life.

Having Faith saved my life.

It’s worth it for me to give them that chance.

Today I was changed again. I was thinking about Martin Luther King Jr. and Daniel and I were discussing his speech…and then we start talking about our extended family. How diverse it is and how beautiful it is. That nothing is about color, but everything is about family.

And then the conversation shifted. We were driving to pick up Jonah and the sun was out, and It happened.

We were talking about the Homily from Church the night before. How our bodies were made by God and belong to God…and Daniel told me he’d been thinking about how glad he was that we were his parents.

“Because I love your Dad so much?” I teased.

And then my 11 year said something before his Time…something influenced by a homily but completely profound.

“No because you’re soulmates.

You and Dad are true soulmates because your bodies aren’t lying to you through your marriage- and not only are you soulmates through love but living life with God. If don’t have God your bodies will be lying and you can’t be soulmates. God is the one who will help guide you and he makes it a true marriage.

Most people don’t realize that Mom.”

I pulled over so he could tell me again, and I wrote it down.

Because you know who says stuff like that?

A priest. A Missionary. Someone who knows God well.

Someone before his time.

I know a lot of people. People I love, who have had to say goodbye to their marriages. Some because of abuse. Some because of infidelity. Some because of addiction. For some it wasn’t their choice…no matter how hard they fought. Or prayed. I’m not naive to that.

And I will never judge anyone who has to walk in those shoes. Ever. And no one ever should.

And I love them.

And then there is God.

And there’s our truth.

And there’s my kid. An eleven year old.

Not perfect, but is already teaching me. Today he said something that I’ll read over the years. On the times when sin and my own “wants” lie to me. When I think without my faith I can take care of it, or I can just walk away.

That’s why whenever someone says something to me like “you don’t really think he’s going to be a priest do you?” I have to say, “I don’t know, and whatever he does- I will be so proud.” Because he is already speaking the truth, he is already living his call.

It takes many of us our whole lives to do that. Maybe we wait until tragedy strikes. Or until we are faced with our own fragility.

But Daniel was born ready…

I married my soulmate, and everyday we give our marriage to God. And through that five children were born, and one of them was born with the Caul and ready.

What is your Calling?

We all have one, but most of us don’t realize it.

But I do.

I see it every day in my Daniel.

Ps. Happy Birthday to MLK and to my beautiful Sister in Law Susan- who inspires me every single day!!!

He was excited to go to the birthday party today…until we were on our way. He started to get really nervous and kept asking me if I’d stay, “Just in case.”

“Just in case what?” I asked.

“In case I’m too shy.”

All my kids have had moments of shyness, Daniel didn’t talk in preschool until after Christmas his first year. And Jonah still gets shy in new surroundings. But Curly…Curly is extremely shy.

Since the age of one he has received a lot of attention. Because of his looks- and hair, and eyelashes…we’ve been approached to get him
into modeling. And we’ve said no, because if you see his class pictures- it looks like a mugshot. He is so shy he doesn’t want to stand out- he doesn’t want to be the center of attention.

When he’s comfortable and he trusts you- he gives you the biggest smile and will talk to you. Especially if it’s a small group, but if it’s big- he will fold into himself and just want to leave.

And sometimes, as his parent that is hard.
Really hard.

So we have ongoing dialogue, we talk about when shyness seems rude, and he is working so hard at trying to be a little braver. And in many ways he is succeeding, he’s speaks up in class once in a while, and he’ll talk to adults when he feels safe. But somedays, like today, it was really hard.

I’ve tried everything, but it’s not something I can change about him…

This is who he is.

Today when I was driving I was thinking of how often we try to change something about ourselves or others…when really, that’s them.

I’m not talking about changing things like chewing and talking with your mouth open or manners, or any other number of habits and normal things as parents we need to work on with our kids and guide them in. And if you’re kid is mean- by golly that’s never ok.

But in trying to change who they are…

“Don’t be a Baby. Stop crying!”

“Snap out of it!”

“Can’t you just focus?”

“Why aren’t you more organized?!”

And change who we are. Because all of those things I said to myself. This week.

I hate that I cry easy and that I am the kind of person who is so affected by movies and books I can’t watch them, otherwise they will stay with me for weeks. I’m not organized. And Sunday’s are hard. And I can’t always be who I should be.

I have tried so hard to change that. But that’s who I am.

And I’m working to be ok with that. My life and existence is a gift. It’s a gift and I am wonderfully made. A temple of the Holy Spirit.

You may not believe in God. But I do, because I have seen his work In my Life. And I know him, and I know what he is doing in me. And He makes wonderful things.

Things that shouldn’t be ignored.

8 years ago he brought a little boy into my life. Still grieving his sister born sleeping, he came quickly in five hours and all I could say over and over. “Is he alive? Is he alive?”

And he was…he would stare at me for hours as a baby, and was the easiest baby I’ve ever met. He slept in the bed attached to our bed, and I would wake him up during the night to make sure he was still breathing.

He wouldn’t cry. He would wake up and stare at me until his eyes became heavy and he’d fall back asleep.

He can fall asleep anywhere.

And still does.

He laughs harder than any of my other kids at things. He is a great athlete, fabulous student, and loves to write. When he loves you, he Loves you. He is fiercely loyal and has an imagination that enchants you. He loves his brothers and doesn’t like being without them, and his sister is his best friend.

I can’t imagine life without him.

And he is very shy.

Today instead of getting uptight or pressuring him, I stood behind him and said “I won’t leave.” I let him be…who he is. It took time and he warmed up enough to even say “thank you” before he left.

When we left he asked me, his big eyes wide,

“Did I do ok Mommy?”

And my heart filled up and ached, and I told him…

“Of course you did. You were so brave. You went and you stayed.”

Because this is who he is. And he is wonderfully made to be him.

I’m so glad I let him be…Micah.

I want to start by saying that sometimes real life doesn’t seem real.

9 months ago my brother in law, Robert, after months of fighting, met our Jesus.

Today is his Birthday.

His 50th.

And it doesn’t seem real. I keep expecting all of us to be used to it, but we’re not. I don’t think we’ll ever be.

He should be here.

And even all these months as we have all grieved, and gotten used to many parts of this new life, none of us are used to this part of real.

I think I have a great love story. I feel blessed that I married the man of my dreams and the man that I love. And it is hard and not perfect, but we work at it.

But my sister in law Susan and Robert have THE love story. Not because it was like some sappy Nicholas Sparks film but because it is real love, the kind of love that is devoted and natural.

The kind of love that is not codependent or passive aggressive but a partnership, untainted by jealousy or any divisiveness.

Weddings are full of vows you hear and know, but almost become just words we’ve heard over and over but not truly paused on.

Of course we cry at weddings because they offer hope and the vows are pretty. But the living of vows and living those words is incredibly hard.

Marriage is a living vow.

For richer or poorer. In good times and bad. In sickness and in health.

Robert and Susan lived those vows.

Beautifully. Fully.

And those touched by their love story, are changed.

I said once to Chris, when he called me after being in ICU with him…

“This can’t be happening. Robert is the best of all of us.”

And I meant it. While I married into a family of amazing people, he is the best of us. The kindest, most accepting, and giving of all
of us.

This is not some memorial where I put on my rose colored glasses.

It. Is. True.

So real life, still seems unreal. Because he made an impact always. He made us all better.

Maybe it was because he had Hodgkins as a teenager. Maybe it was because he was an Eagle Scout. Maybe it was because he could fix anything, make anything, and probably the most knowledgable person I knew.

He and my Sister in Law started dating when my husband, her little brother was very young. So for him, he doesn’t remember a life without Robert.

When we started dating 20 years ago, he told me if he ever got married, they were the couple he wanted to emulate. We even went on our Honeymoon where they went, we had a five year plan to wait for kids like they did…but well, God had other plans for us. But we always looked to them as our inspiration.

We still do.

Today Susan sent us a text and asked all of us to spend a moment and share a story about Robert and to wish him a Happy Birthday.

I started this post hours ago…and Dyp still has not been able to pick one.

So I’ll start with the kids. This is their Uncle Robert in their own words.

Jonah: I can’t come up with just one story…but I can say this– Uncle Robert would drop everything to help with something. When we broke down in Grants Pass for Casey’s Graduation- he spent hours helping Dad. And how he always had the pool ready and had the movie set up on the grass. He was the best! We miss him.

Daniel: I loved our beach trip. We all went together and stayed in that big house. We played games the whole weekend and Uncle Robert made pancakes. It was one of the best weekends ever. Oh, and Uncle Robert and Aunt Susan were so nice when I was sleep walking and walked into their room and just stood there. I prayed every day because I really love him.

Micah: We had a big party for Casey, and he bbq’d and then we had ice cream! It was so fun. (I asked him if there was anything else) I’m just really shy. (Something he said a week ago was that he wants to be able to fix cars someday like Uncle Robert.)

Grace: When we were at the beach Uncle Robert put me on top of the all the kids.(pyramid) He made sure I didn’t fall. He told me it was ok, when I got cold too that it was ok to come back. Also I love Mikaela, and Casey is funny, and I love him.

And our stories…

Like my husband, and Jonah I really can’t find just one story. But there are things I can’t forget…how he and Susan were together. How proud he always was of Mikaela and Casey, of everything they did. How he always seemed happy to see me and was interested in what I had to say. How he loved when babies would make lots of noise at their baptism’s. He liked good music. Even once, years ago, he made a joke that he thought might have hurt my feelings(he hadn’t) and came and said sorry to me. But the fact that he checked in meant so much. He meant so much to so many.

Then theres’s my husband, who picked one story but has a lifetime of them- but the one that stands out and always will stay with him is the time that Robert took him to see Hulk Hogan live. He was around 8, and when he talks about it- he still lights up. It meant so much. He said something I mentioned earlier “I don’t remember a time where Robert wasn’t a part of my life.”

…So here we are.

Today. Robert’s Birthday.

I wish I could be more eloquent in my real today. But somedays I just wish this wasn’t where we all are. I wish I had better words, but really the grief has no words that I can ever describe.

I wish I could bring more comfort to Susan, who I love so much. Or to Mikaela and Casey. Or to Palmer and Millie- and all Robert’s Siblings. And to our family- and to Robert’s life long friends…

But instead I can just do this.

I can do the things I have learned from
Robert- over and over again.

I will love.

I will adore my family.

I will be faithful and help people.

I will make people feel special.

I will never take anything for granted.

I will never take anyone for granted.

I will work hard at my job.

I will love my spouse completely.

I will always try.

I will do the right thing.

I will fight.

And I will view life as a gift. Every single day.

Our family will never be the same. But I am incredibly grateful to have had Robert in my life. I’m so grateful that I got to be a part of this family.

He should be here.

But we are the Blessed ones. To have known and loved-

The best of all of Us.

Happy Birthday Robert. You are so loved. You are so loved.

Daniel collects crosses and only puts things he loves up with his crosses. He chose a picture of Uncle Robert, Aunt Susan, and Mikaela and Casey…I love his heart.

Before. This is Real.

And things are about to get real. Because we’re about to have a coming to Jesus.

See you tomorrow.

Me: “Yeah Daniel has the meanest Mom ever!” (today in the car to Daniel’s best friend Britt)

Britt: “You haven’t seen my Mom in Action!”

Yesterday one of my children started going blind because I turned on the light in the morning to wake them up. Full on running into walls blind.

“You will be so sad, when I end up blind.”

Yesterday I had to send a child back up stairs because they needed to not only put on fresh shorts but also UNDERWEAR…because it is a rule, one must wear underwear to school. It’s also the law. I’m sure of it.

“You’re going to make me LATE to school!”

Yesterday, I ruined someone’s life when I said writing clues to “Gravity Falls” is not as important as doing ones homework.

“You have No idea.”

Yesterday I was told No I could not help, No I would not understand, and No I’ll be fine.

“It’s a guy thing Mom!”

I brushed someone’s hair. And they are scarred. And didn’t want to go to school because it was early release and there was no recess. And I made them do their homework.

“You dooooon’t understand. I don’t like homework. I was so busy playingggg!”

Tragedy. And it was all my fault.

Yesterday.

Because. I. Am. The. Meanest. Mom.

But I’m not alone.

So here’s to you…the meanest Mom–

The ones who enforce bedtime and teeth brushing. And underwear wearing.

Here’s to you…the meanest Mom–

Who make your children do chores, and finish them– and learn about responsibility.

Here’s to you…the meanest Mom–

The ones who limit tv, and video games, cell phones, Internet. Who expect your children to look up when they sit next to you in the car and look around. And talk to you.

Here’s to you…the meanest Mom–

Who make sure homework is done, and done right. Who have extra erasers on hand so they can fix their messy handwriting. Who make them finish a project, and an exam.

Here’s to you…the meanest Mom–

The ones who expect clean laundry to be put away, and not put back in the laundry bin. And who make them shower and wash hands. Again.

Here’s to you…the meanest Mom–

Who trust your instinct…and say no. Even if everyone else is going- or is reading it- or is watching it. Even if they really want to. Even if you’ll be judged because you just can’t let go.

Here’s to you…the meanest Mom–

The ones who make your child clean the toilet when they’ve used words that are NOT ok. Or lift the lid. Or flush the toilet. Or not fart at the table.

Here’s to you…the meanest Mom–

Who expect them to apologize. To their siblings. To their teachers when they were out of line. To their friends.

Here’s to you…the meanest Mom–

The ones who wait until they are in the building. Even though it’s embarrassing. Who call the other parents to make sure they will be home. Even though that is super mean.

Here’s to you…the meanest Mom–

Who make them get vaccinations. And check ups. And who are brave enough to say to the teacher- I’m worried about their progress. Or tell the doctor at 18 months, I think there is something wrong…

Who expect them to say Please. And thank you. To Coaches. To teachers. To adults. To others. And who does not accept ungratefulness.

Here’s to you…the meanest Mom–

Who is consistent. Even when they yell. Even when they spiral. You hold your ground of meanness.

Here’s to you…the meanest Mom–

Who expect kindness. And respect. And them
To forgive others- even when it’s hard.

Here’s to you,

Who lays awake at night- wondering if you are messing it up.

If they know how much you love them.

If they know how much time you’ve spent thinking, hoping, praying, loving them.

As you lay there wishing you could give a little more.

Here’s to you,

Who asked for a second opinion. Who walked out of a grocery store with a screaming child kicking and screaming, and waited until you were in the car to cry. Who made them
cry it out…at your in laws.

Here’s to you.

Who prayed and held on. And waited. Who birthed. Who adopted. Who waited your whole lifetime, to find out how strong you truly were…when your child walked into school that first day…without you.

Or had to tell them the hard things…about sadness. About death. Who held them. And cried with them.

Here’s to you.

I know sometimes you wish you were nicer, but please know…they are safe. They are loved.

You. Are. Doing. A. Good. Job.

Here’s to you…the Meanest Mom.

You are braver than you will ever know.

You inspire me. To be braver. And to be the meanest Mom I can be.