Being a part of the online mom space has made it very clear to me that motherhood often becomes a competition born out of this need for validation, one in which the goal is to win some kind of internal reward that can never be won this way. We wouldn’t have The (ridiculous) Mommy Wars that are always playing out if this weren’t true. It’s there. Validation is so hard to come by and then we get desparate for it and shake our fists at each other in false comparisons, forgetting that comparing always ends as a loss.

Lose-lose.

I don’t care if you work at home all day or work out of the home or if you do or don’t co-sleep or breastfeed or attachment parent or helicopter parent or have 1 child or 17 or have teens or grown children…mothering is hard, and when we look at each other with that in mind and with compassion at heart we win-win. It seems simple but we get all tripped up by our need to be seen. Look at me running, look at how it never stops, please say you see me.

Motherhood is a (terribly repetitive and grueling and absolutely beautiful) race with a photo finish tie and we all end up at the same place. With all of our heart’s desires for our kids and the pressure and the heavy weight of responsibility and all of its grown-up things. The reality for all of us, every single one, is that we fall through the finish line and then we get up and start over again. We are mother marathoners.

This kind of hard that is equal is a result of a love we never could have expected and that is how we tie.  I am running this marathon with all mothers and I look around and I see that all of you are carrying some enormous things on top of simply running which is hard enough on its own and I see you.

You can read the whole article here.

My angel, Analise.

Family of four.

Beautiful chubs.

Bundle of love.

Sweet Analise.

Sisters.

Proud big sister.

The Fleming Fam.

It was an ordinary Sunday- breakfast, showers, and a lot of rushing around to get out of the door before 9:30 a.m.  Kara was playing well and was eager to get her shoes on (she loves shoes, like her mama).  We headed to church and made it there in time for worship.

Now on this particular Sunday I was looking forward to catching up on some much needed rest being that we had only been home a week since Analise was in the hospital, and Kara was up a lot at night the following week due to an ear infection.  Once we got home from church I put Kara down for her usual nap anticipating about at least 1 1/2-2 hours of quiet rest.  Travis was out at a ministry project in the city, and Analise was sleeping soundly, so I took advantage of some “me” time.  I heated up some leftovers, ate lunch, and was enjoying the sleepy effects of a full tummy.  I then proceeded to the couch when all of a sudden I hear the sounding alarm of Kara waking from her “20-minute” nap.  Frustrated, I walked into her room and tried to calmly rock her back to sleep.  She would have none of it.  Nap time was over.

I am quickly realizing that the days of anticipated rest have taken a sabbatical until we get out of the baby/toddler/preschool years.  Children aren’t pre-programmed to our preferred schedules.  Kids get sick, they go through growth spurts, they throw tantrums, they act like, well, kids.  As much as Kara loves her routine and quickly reminds me if we get out of our routine a bit, even Kara can’t control a night terror or hunger pangs (she has a growth spurt every week I’m sure, and her little sister is appropriately following suit).  So, what’s a mother to do?

My college years were a period in my life when God drew me closer to Him.  I treasure those years.  My mornings offered me ample time to grab a cup of coffee, read my Bible, and even journal.  It was a sweet time of fellowship with my Lord.  Even following college and seminary, as a music teacher I found time to really dwell in His presence at the same time every day (mornings preferred).  I would come home from work, turn on the news, take a catnap before dinner, and then end my day with some reading before bed.  That was then.  I am a mom now, and my life has different demands than it did when I was a single and had nothing but “me” time.  So, does this mean that my spiritual life, fellowship with other believers, or rest takes a hiatus now that I am a mom?  Well, I don’t think so.  I think it’s not that those things are eliminated in my life, but that they are altered in some ways.  Here’s what I mean:

Now that my “me” time has turned into “we” time, I am finding that I have to be creative in how I make time for quiet throughout the week as well as to celebrate the Sabbath.

*Carve out time with God- If I get 5 minutes in the Word followed by a diaper change, 5 more minutes in the Word followed by prayer, then it’s a good morning for me.  I can take some more time during Kara’s nap or at the end of the day for fellowship with the Lord.  Eventually, when Analise sleeps through the night, I intend to get up before everybody else and have a more productive time with the Lord, but for now I’m making it count when I can.

*Pray through your day- This is my life raft in my day.  When I am at my wit’s end or when I simply need to praise Him, I pray in my spirit knowing that the Lord hears me.  It’s comforting to know that I am not alone and that the Lord understands exactly where I am and what I am dealing with day to day.  “…He gently leads those that are with young” Isaiah 40:11.

*Fellowship with other Christians- Unless I am prevented from weekly worship with my church family I make Sundays a priority for corporate worship.  Not only is it important for my own soul and Christian maturity, but it is also good for my children to see Sundays set a part in the week for worship and rest.

*Sleep when possible-  As I am writing this blog post I should be following this bit of advice myself being that both girls are asleep.  I need to work on this one for sure.  I usually use my girls’ nap times as my time to clean the bathrooms, mop the floors, or anything else that would be difficult with a curious and wild toddler.  Travis gets on me for this, and I need to listen to him more regarding “sleep when they sleep.”

*Get out of the house- Travis is good about watching the girls so that I can get out of the house and go to the salon, mall, or run some errands.  This keeps me from going bananas.  I treasure him for this, because more often than not there is usually a poor napper, ginormous spit-up, or a blow out diaper that he has to attend to while I’m out and about.  If you’re reading this Trav, thanks.

*Lastly, for now (I’m a new student in the school of motherhood) find a hobby or activity for personal enrichment that you enjoy- Reading is one of my favorite detox activities.  I like to read before bed when it’s usually quiet.  Another activity I enjoy is writing.  When I make time to journal, blog, or work on a song, I find that I keep my mind sharp and creative (I mean, Goodnight Moon and “Skinnamarink” are all well and good, but even this mama needs a little bit more variety in her life).  Playing or listening to music also recharges me and either calms or energizes my spirit.

Susanna Wesley, mother of John and Charles Wesley, once wrote concerning the Sabbath, ” ‘Tis sufficient, ’tis all I ask, and whatever others may think or do, I account this the most blest and happy day of the week.  And with all my heart and soul and mind and strength I adore and praise Thee, O eternal and ever-blessed God for giving me a dispensation from all worldly business for this day, and, since the weakness and corruption of human nature requires it, for commanding us to keep holy the sabbath day.”

So, mothers, be encouraged and find rest.  Find rest in God and receive His grace.  Too many of us are too hard on ourselves, and we need to be reminded of His strength that is made perfect in weakness.  I know I need it- His strength and grace.  And a nap too.

1.  Unity.  I believe that reading through God’s Word together as a church will encourage unity among the body.  We may have different preferences regarding worship style, but we can all rally around the Scriptures and learn and grow from them together.

2.  Growth.  Reading the Bible with thoughtful intent will grow one’s faith, but reading it chronologically (the essential storyline of Scripture) will even further enhance one’s faith and understanding of God’s story.

3.  Discipleship.  Not only are we reading God’s Word individually, but we come together on Sundays to hear my favorite preacher (Travis Fleming) teach on a specific passage from our week’s readings.  This also encourages my faith and strengthens my walk.  Other brothers and sisters in Christ can share what the Lord is teaching them throughout the week, and we can sharpen one another “as iron sharpens iron.”

So, if your church is reading through the Bible together this year as well- great!  If not, then I encourage you to find a couple friends or family members to read through the Scriptures together.  It will bless and nourish your soul.

Living in Memphis has opened my eyes to the consequences of segregation.  We may be 50 or so years removed from its clutches, but if you live here long enough you can still smell its stench.  Pick any one issue or institution with a broken system in Memphis and more than likely you can trace the root problem to segregation.  There is a great deal of poverty, so in effect, you will find a great deal of crime.  Unless you live out east, on Mud Island, or in some pocket areas in Midtown, most of the rest of Memphis is blighted with the fading resemblance of what once was.  Now before you peg me as a complainer or a “downer on my hood,” know that I love my city and that there are aspects of Memphis that are charming and pleasantly unique.  It is just that you can’t live in the heart of Memphis and not see the crushing effects of man’s hatred for man.

So, what would Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. say of Memphis today?  He was a man of eloquence and fire, so I will not presume to speak for him, but may I venture to guess that he would say that the job is not complete- that is the job of racial equality.  He was for the dignity of every person.  I don’t think that Dr. King would be a cheerleader for welfare or excessive governmental assistance for the healthy and able-bodied, but I believe that he would encourage hard work and diligence from all people.

This really is a complex issue with various factors to sort through, but the truth remains the same- we need to in some way help the children’s children of those once segregated to realistically thrive in society.  By help, I don’t mean handouts, but real programs that can educate and motivate those in our poor communities to essentially “make it.”  I believe that these programs shouldn’t be government-led, but church-led.  Washington does not have all of the answers; it is a broken system.  However, the gospel does have the answer, and the church has the mandate to restore and renew all the while sharing the message of the cross, which offers hope for this life and for the life to come.

Dr. King was not merely a Civil Rights activist, but he was a Christian man whose dream I believe exceeds beyond the here and now.  One of my favorite lines from his “I Have a Dream” speech illustrates this point, “I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted , every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight; and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.”  This is Memphis’ hope, and this is every city’s hope.

Makes 4 to 6 servings

Ingredients:

1 lb. chicken breast

olive oil or vegetable oil (2 tablespoons)

1 can cream of mushroom soup

1 can cream of chicken soup

2 soup cans water

4 teaspoons all-purpose flour

2 chicken bouillon granule cubes

black pepper (eye ball- about 1/2 teaspoon)

1 can refrigerated buttermilk biscuits (8 biscuits)

Directions:

1.  Chop chicken breasts into 1-inch bites and cook through in skillet with oil

2.  Place chicken in slow cooker

3.  Mix the rest of the ingredients (except biscuits) in slow cooker with the chicken

4.  Cut biscuits into quarters and gently stir into mixture. Cook on LOW 4-6 hours

*If you have a newer Crock-Pot, 4 hours is sufficient.  I would even check before that so that you don’t end up with “chicken ‘n biscuits” rather than “chicken ‘n dumplings.”

As cities become more violent, good parents with children move away; but as good parents with children move away, cities become more violent.  That is because children, roving over and across and under everything will see what felons do not want them to see, as children are in many ways more observant than grownups.  Preaching safety to the child, safety above all, safety always, world without end, has the considerable advantage of instilling in him the expectation that life should be provided with boardwalks and handrails.  Such a child will never go for a walk in the woods if he lives in the country, and, even if our cities were better than sinkholes, will not walk down an alley if he lives in the city…..

If a child must go to the city, then, it should be with gates and barriers provided.  He should be encouraged to believe that only certain sections of the city really count—the ones with high-toned coffee shops, for instance.  Let him meet men of the road–what are now called, with insufferable condescension, the “homeless”—but only in sanctioned school functions, or at sanctioned philanthropic events, where everyone will give the expected response to the expected questions, and all fear and degradation and sin and romance will be leached out.  Encourage him to think that the overschooled performers of high culture at the city amphitheater are the real urbanites, not the man who works for the bus company and lives at the back of a hardware store, or the old lady who sweeps the streets in front of the old Lutheran Church.  Let him “do” the city, but not wander in it, let alone live there”  (pp. 43-44).

So, this is my dilemma, but not really because here I am living in the city with all of its troubles and glory.  May my children see its redeeming qualities as well as its brokenness, all the while discovering Christ and the whole gospel story.

On Thursday of last week I took my then seven-week old to her pediatrician to have him listen to Analise’s lungs because her nasal congestion was sounding more like it was getting into her chest.  Sure enough she had some chest congestion and was diagnosed with bronchiolitis.  The doctor said that he didn’t hear any wheezing or see her laboring to breathe, but that maybe an antibiotic will help prevent any secondary infection.  He said that to listen for grunting and if we hear her grunt with every breath that we would need to then take her to Le Bonheur Children’s Hospital.  We started her on the antibiotic that night, but she couldn’t tolerate it and threw it all up, so we took her back to the pediatrician the following morning.  He listened to her chest again and noted that there weren’t any changes.  He prescribed a different antibiotic, which we began right away.

Analise tolerated this new antibiotic just fine, but I noticed that she wasn’t eating as well.  From Friday morning on, Analise would eat a little bit and then get distressed and fussy at each feeding.  I figured she just didn’t have much of an appetite.  Friday rolled into Saturday and nothing really changed.  We had a couple visit us that evening who are both physicians (one is a pediatrician) and they observed that Analise was “junkie,” meaning congested, but that she seemed okay.  That evening things took a turn for the worst, but we weren’t aware as to how serious the turn took.

Analise hardly ate much and what she did eat she threw up.  I called the nurse on call and she said that this is normal and that babies will vomit when they cough sometimes and that it is good for them to get mucus up with it.  So, I let Analise rest elevated next to us in her “Nap Nanny”.  Travis and I laid hands on her that evening before we went to bed and prayed that the Lord would heal her body and give her comfort and rest.  I woke up around 4:00 a.m. that morning to wake Analise to feed her.  I noticed that her chest was rising and falling and that her head was bobbing.  She was breathing, but fast, and I figured that it was her way of fighting the virus.  I didn’t hear any grunting, but maybe the slightest wheeze.  I fed her what she was willing to eat, which was maybe a quarter of her normal feeding amount.  I then placed her back in her Nap Nanny to sleep.

The next morning, Sunday, I was disturbed in my spirit.  Things just didn’t seem right and I was concerned about Analise’s rapid breathing.  I was wanting to call the nurse on call but was at the same time frustrated because the last time I called it didn’t seem to get me anywhere as to the nature of Analise’s problem.  Travis wisely counseled me to insist on having the operator contact our pediatrician.  I did just that and although a nurse responded, she promptly contacted our pediatrician.  She asked me if Analise was retracting, meaning laboring to breathe.  I didn’t know what retracting meant at the time, but I described how Analise looked as of late Saturday evening into Sunday morning.  She asked if her nose was flaring, which it was the slightest bit.  She contacted the pediatrician and he told us to go to Le Bonheur hospital to have her checked out.  To Le Bonheur we went.

When we arrived at the hospital, they evaluated Analise in triage and then escorted us to a room in the E.R where they checked her oxygen level.  They described her condition as “dusky” and that she wasn’t receiving enough oxygen.  She received deep nasal suctioning and a breathing treatment to help clear her passageways.  An X-ray revealed what the nurses and doctor suspected.  Analise had RSV.  They explained what it was and that what is a mild cold for adults or older children, RSV for little babies is serious business.  Travis asked what danger RSV posed for Analise.  Nurse Angie told us that she could stop breathing.  At that point everything went silent and still and I couldn’t believe where we were and just how sick little Analise was.

Once we arrived at Le Bonheur, Analise was in good hands and was treated swiftly.  She did not need to be put on a ventilator since she was able to breathe on her own with proper suctioning, and she didn’t have to go to ICU at any point during her hospital stay.  She did however require what they call “High Flow” treatment, which was like an oxygen “blow dryer” that blew through nasal tubing.  She was on high flow for most of the week, and then she was on strict oxygen for the last few days, which she was weaned off of little by little.

I wasn’t prepared for all of this.  I still think I am in a state of shock knowing that I almost lost my baby.  All this week I kept thanking the Lord for getting us to Le Bonheur in time while thinking just how close we were to losing Analise.  This whole ordeal has been a sobering opportunity for me to put my life in perspective.  No one is guaranteed the next breath- only God can determine that.  Not every mom will leave Le Bonheur with a well baby, and why God has been merciful to Travis and me is a mystery.  What I do know more than ever is that life is precious and fragile, and that every day I can be a mommy to Kara and Analise is a day to be celebrated.  My heart echoes the words of the psalmist:

“Your righteousness, God, reaches to the heavens, you who have done great things.  Who is like you, God?  Though you have made me see troubles, many and bitter, you will restore my life again; from the depths of the earth you will again bring me up.  You will increase my honor and comfort me once more.”  Psalm 71:19-21

Happy Listening!

My wheels have been spinning lately as I ask myself, “Am I allowing the Spirit to control how I interact with my brothers and sisters in Christ?”  “Am I an encourager or a critic?”  My heart is burdened to see the power of the Spirit unleashed in churches, but I cannot help but wonder if we are hindering the Spirit from moving in power due to a lack of encouragement or unified joy.

I love my church.  Let me say that again- I love my church.  We have SO MANY faithful men and women who are contemporary “Barnabuses”.  The question I need to ask and really all who seek to gather together in Jesus’ Name should ask is, “Am I supporting what the Spirit is doing in my local body or am I a hindrance to His power?”  Is the first thing always out of my mouth to a brother or sister serving in a particular ministry in our fellowship some sort of critique to belittle him/her, to essentially break his/her spirit?  Do we think before we speak to one another, or do we just let the comments fly to attempt to “fix” something in one of our church ministries that we deem inadequate?  If we truly are seeking to help one another, then is there a better way to address a concern rather than always approaching someone with a negative spirit? Or worse yet, speaking negatively of another brother or sister behind his or her back?  Some things to ponder…

My prayer is that I will be an encourager and if there is something that needs to be critiqued (of course when it comes to doctrinal issues, no one should approach such things lightly) then I pray that I will approach that person in love and in the right spirit to build them up not to tear them down.  Correction can be done in love as it should be.

Lord, may we be a people of encouragement and may Your Spirit unify us and fill us with power and inexpressible joy for our edification and ultimately for Your glory.  Amen!

“And Judas and Silas, who were themselves prophets, encouraged and strengthened the brothers with many words” Acts 15:32