Margaret McSweeney's Blog, page 36

Encouragement to Live in the Moment wiht Our Kids

[image error]

There are days when being a Mom is absolutely, utterly draining. The days when one child after another comes to me, needy, clingy, and filled with attitude. There are days I’d love to check out — even for fifteen, uninterrupted minutes.

My son in this photo is 2.5. Yesterday he was a newborn I was meeting for the first time. Tomorrow he’ll be six, then ten, then fifteen. My 12.5 year old is knocking on the door to becoming a teenager when I could swear just yesterday she was five and beginning the adventure of school and growing up.

I adore my kids, but somedays being a mother is exhausting. So I take the kids to the library and read a book rather than interact with them. Or we go to the park and out comes my phone so I can catch up on something. And of course, that’s the day when there’s a challenge to moms to get out of our phones and notice our kids. Ironic timing.

So how can we balance being present for our kids with the need to refill?

1) Remember parenting is a season. My kids need me intensely now, but I’m beginning to see that pulling away happening. I try to live with a willingness to drop what I’m doing — I’m terrible at this most days, but I want to get better. To stop and plane trains with the 2 year old. Encourage the art pursuits of my almost 5 year old. Enjoy the nonstop conversations with my 9.5 year old. And be available at 11 p.m. for my 12 year old. All too soon, this season will end, and I’m told I’ll look back with longing

2) Listen to your kids. Actively engage with them. Get on the level of the little kids. Make eye contact with the older kids. I desperately want my soon to be teenagers to come to me when they need to talk. For that to happen, I need to be present and available now. Even when it’s inconvenient or I’m tired.

3) Encourage conversation and family time. Dig out the board games, read a good book together, create something together. Work together around the house. Go for a bike ride. Even when they don’t always want to participate, they’ll remember those moments.

Parenting is tough. But I know it will be worth it. How do you engage with the kids in your lives? How did you parents do a great job with you?

The Encouragement Found In What Only God Can Do

“Do not limit the limitless God! With Him, face the future unafraid because you are never alone.” -Mrs Charles E Cowman

In the summer of 2006 I went off of birth control. My husband Mark and I had been married for about five years at that point and we had decided that it was time to at least stop preventing. The decision was also triggered  by a trip to Africa that I was taking in July as my Doctor had said that birth control can contribute to blood clots in the legs on long haul flights. Given both of these things, the decision was made and I stopped taking my pills at the end of June.

Although I had always been regular before, once I stopped taking birth control my period never came again. After three months I asked my Doctor about it and she assured me that it can take months for the body to adjust. She said to come back in a couple more months if nothing changed, and so I did. At that point we started looking into some tests for explanations. I was asked by various medical professionals if I was experiencing high levels of stress or running too much. I assured them that I was not. After nine months and still no period, I was seen at the hospital for an ultrasound and other tests. At this time I was told that they were unsure of exactly why I had Amenorrhoea (lack of period) and that perhaps we should start looking into infertility treatment. For the first time I felt truly discouraged. I arrived home  that evening to find Mark sitting at the dining table. I walked over to him and sat on his lap. I told him all about the tests and how worried I was that I could never give him a child. He gently stroked my hair and with what seemed to be perfect peace, assured me that we would be fine no matter what. Tears come to my eyes whenever I think of this gentle moment between us and what was to come. Two months later Mark was killed in a plane crash.

In the initial years after Mark died I did not bother going to the Doctor. What did it matter if I had Amenorrhoea and was unable to conceive? My husband was dead and I didn’t believe I would ever remarry. Besides that, if the Doctors were worried about stress or too much running being the cause before, they were legitimate reasons now as I had taken up training for marathons to deal with my grief.

During this time, I met and became good friends with another young widow. Her husband had died about a year before and soon after his death she found out she was pregnant. She had thought that she would be able to have a piece of him, only to miscarry not long after. As time went on my dear friend met and married a wonderful man years later. It was an honor to be at her wedding. Even though our lives differed so much, we were able to stay in touch from time to time. I was happy for her as I knew marriage and family was something she longed for. I just wasn’t so sure I wanted the same.

When I met my now husband, John, one of the first things I learned about him was how important family was. He was absolutely wonderful around kids and It made me nervous in dating him as I was worried I couldn’t give him a child. Given my history, I had it set in my mind that God intended for me not to have children. I tried to break up with John numerous times, telling him that he would make a wonderful father and that I just couldn’t give him that life. He would smile and encourage me by saying that he believed God wanted us to be together and that he chooses me, with or without children. We were married November 2, 2013.

In the beginning of our second month of marriage  I noticed that I wasn’t feeling quite myself. I pushed it aside until one morning, after waking up slightly ill, I decided to take a pregnancy test. I stared in absolute awe at the results. They were Positive.  I woke John and we stared at the test with wide eyes. Clearly I had limited God because I had come to believe that it just wasn’t possible or meant to be for me to have a child. Apparently God had other plans.

After the first trimester I shared the news of my pregnancy publicly. My friend, the widow who lost her husband and unborn baby, contacted me to tell me that she too was pregnant and that we had the SAME DUE DATE! We laughed thinking of all we have been through and for God’s clear answer to our prayers. And so, whenever I question this pregnancy, I look back on my history and the encouragement that is so clearly given along the way. God’s plans for your life may not be anywhere in your realm of thinking, so pray and be open to His movement. God may have some surprising plans if you trust and follow Him.

Drink Your Coconut

Now you can enjoy a sip of paradise even on a cold Spring day.

With a coco drill you can make a hole for a straw in a coconut and then sip the refreshing coconut water straight from the source! And rehydrating!

I purchase young coconuts from the store and keep them in the fridge. You can also use the coconut water to make your favorite smoothie!

Now all I need is a hot sunny day in Chicagoland.

Savor the day!

For Those Days When You’re One Step Away From Drowning

http://www.freedigitalphotos.net

You know about those days. Where getting out of bed seems like climbing Mount Everest. You don’t want to face the pain. You don’t want to face your life. Maybe you don’t want to face yourself.

You try desperately to pull something out of your soul, something that will fill you. Nothing comes. It’s dry. But you’re drowning all the same.

You can drown in two inches of water. But those days, they feel like an ocean’s consumed you. On those days you can’t breathe. You’re in way over your head.

So those days require something more—more than just air to breathe. You need something solid. Something you can hold onto. You need to open your arms and feel the presence of something deep surround you.

And you have it. He gave it. He knows what it feels like to drown—in his own blood and water. To gasp for air. To be beaten beyond recognition. He shows you every time you look up. Every time you see a cross.

How do you make it on those days? By remembering. By inviting someone into the mess. Right into the broken and empty places of your soul. You tell the story of your pain. You tell someone—you’re just one step away from drowning—and you ask for what you need.

The needing is OK.  And one thing is for sure; you need someone to come to your rescue.  And someone did. You can feel it every time you put your hand on a nail. The piercing. He knows what it feels like. He took it into his own body. It was about carrying the weight of the world on his nail scared hands and feet, so that you and I don’t have to.

If you want to make it on those days, the ones where you feel the pull of the current so strong underneath you that it knocks you down. You have to let the arms of mercy receive you, comfort you, support you, and yes, carry you.

That’s when he pours life into those broken and empty places and fills you. For one more day. You can make it because of what he did. The Father sends the only Son to be broken for your remembering. The remembering is what keeps you from drowning. The remembering is what keeps your heart alive.

The God man says, “It is finished.” Nothing else is necessary. This love was costly.  I did it for you. For all those times when you feel like you’re drowning. For all those thin and worn places in your soul that make you feel so vulnerable. I did it so that you would remember.

I did it so that you would know. I did it so that there would never be any doubt in your heart. I gave my only son, so that when you lost something precious, you’d know that I would understand your pain. I did it so that when you felt abandoned, rejected, unloved and all alone, you would remember.

On those days, remember that I loved you to death.

A Basket of Encouragement

I walked toward the laundry room of our apartment building early one winter morning—so early it was still dark outside. In the middle of the night I suddenly realized that I had forgotten to transfer my clothes from the washer to the dryer the evening before.

In our large building of many tenants and few washers and dryers, that could be a real inconvenience. We each had two hours a week to do our laundry. I hurried, eager to get in and out before the person who had the 6:00 a.m. slot arrived. I wanted to make sure the machines were empty and ready to use, and the folding space wiped clean.

Too late!  As I pushed open the door, there sat Laverne, my neighbor who lived down the hall.  She was leafing through a magazine as the washers and dryers pounded rhythmically beside her. “Good morning,” she said.

“Good morning,” I replied.  “I’m so sorry. Last night I got caught up in . . . and I forgot to . . .”

She finished my sentence for me. “Forgot to put your clothes in the dryer?”

“Right,” I said, too embarrassed to look her in the eye.  I walked toward the folding tables, expecting to find my wet rumpled clothing in a heap.  But instead I saw two piles of socks and shirts and towels and underwear—mine and my husband’s—dried and neatly folded.

“Laverne . . . did you . . .” I pointed to the clothing.

“I did.” She smiled. “I got here early today, so why not?”

“You didn’t have to do that. Not only did you dry our clothes but you folded and stacked and categorized them too!”

Laverne looked at me, her bright eyes brimming with kindness.  “I didn’t mind. Isn’t that what we’re here for? To help each other?”

Slowly, I rolled her words over in my mind. “Isn’t that what we’re here for? To help each other?”   

Laverne was a testimony to the Scripture, “Be devoted to one another in brotherly love. Honour one another above yourselves” (Rom. 12:10 NIV).

I hugged her tight, piled my clothes in my basket, and went upstairs–feeling more joyful than I had in weeks.

I took her lead, and in turn, I encouraged someone else that day.  How could I not?  “Isn’t that what we’re here for?” I reminded myself.

 

Coping with Alzheimer’s

(C) Bill Coleman/amishphoto.com

This is a story I wrote a few years ago about my dear dad. He passed away on January 1st, just as the sun rose on 2012.

“Before we can pray ‘Thy Kingdom come,’ we must pray ‘My kingdom go’.”

Amish Proverb

It is a blistering hot June evening and I am stuck in a traffic jam, retrieving my dad from his latest escapade after receiving a call from the police with his whereabouts. My dad is in the mid-stages of Alzheimer’s disease. He has a knack of finding ways to sneak out of his board and care facility, hitchhike with strangers, and end up in unusual places. Today, it is a Wal-Mart, thirty minutes away.

I feel enormously relieved that Dad is safe. These escapes have been frightening. For me, not for Dad. He is unconcerned about the panic he creates. He has already forgotten it. He doesn’t know my name, but he does like to point out which road I should take and when to turn, often encouraging me to sail through red lights. Dad’s directions are dangerous. He’s always wrong but never in doubt.

As my car crawls along the freeway, resentment starts bubbling over. My day has already been overloaded. My college kids had just arrived home for the summer, and I was hoping to prepare a special family dinner. I hadn’t been able to snag any time to write that day; my mind was still preoccupied with a looming deadline. And now the day is wrapping up with Dad’s breakout.

The consuming requirements of my dad’s illness have been creating a growing frustration. Obligations to him always seem to come at the worst moment, forcing me to push aside my own family’s needs. My dad, who was always a delightful person, has become an enormous inconvenience. And as his disease marches forward, it’s only going to get worse.

My mind drifts to the Amish. When I visited Amish communities, I asked many how they handled a relative with Alzheimer’s. Without exception, they replied that they took care of their elderly at home. Granted, they have enormous families who live locally and share the caregiving role. Even with support, Alzheimer’s is no cakewalk. One Amish woman cared for her mother for seven years. Another was up in the night, changing bedsheets for her mother, every forty-five minutes for over a year. But I never detected a hint of self-pity as these women shared their stories with me. “It’s just what we do,” they said, as if that explained everything—their patience, their kindness, their dedication.

These women believe that all of life’s circumstances are given by God, good ones as well as hard ones. Even Alzheimer’s. They yield to things out of their control. They don’t struggle and fight against them, like I do.

So as my car idles in that traffic jam, I wonder how those two Amish women might handle this exasperating situation. I know, I know; they wouldn’t be in a car, they would be in a buggy. I mean the yielding part, the interior repose that works to align itself with the mind of Christ.

I can imagine them saying that it is my time to give back to my father for all he has done for me. That there are things I will be learning in this experience, marathon that it is. They would point out that it is an opportunity for me to develop and express a selfless love. And they would remind me that my father, even in his condition, matters to God. His soul is intact even as his mind is fading.

An entirely unexpected thing happens as I ponder the imaginary conversation of my Amish ladies, spouting their wisdom to me. Sweet memories pop into my mind of Dad in his better days . . . dropping by my house on a hot summer day with popsicles for my children, helping us paint after we remodeled the house. Or when he encouraged me, as a teen, to attend a private college although the tuition bill would create personal hardship for him.

As these memories displace my frustration, I feel the traffic-jam stress dissipate. In its place is a tender patience for Dad, just as he is. I actually feel calmer, more relaxed, more open to God’s way of thinking, though my circumstances have not changed one iota. The traffic is just as bad and the sun is even worse—it has intensified its glare directly onto my windshield like a magnifying glass. When I stop struggling against my circumstances, I actually feel benefits. What might seem on the surface a hopeless surrender, white flag raised, becomes transformed into the powerful mystery of yielding.

If there is one thing I have learned through my study of the Amish, it is that taking my sticky fingers off of the controls and yielding to God is a good thing, a wonderful thing. It’s not passive, it’s hard work! And it takes practice. But through the example of my Amish friends—whose lives are embroidered with daily reminders of their dependence on God—I am learning to trust God in a more meaningful way.

And on the heels of yielding comes the peace of Christ.

This story was originally titled, “Sticky Fingers” and was excerpted with permission from “Amish Peace: Simple Wisdom for a Complicated World” (Revell Books, 2009).

Are You Relying On Your Own Strength? | Sarah Ladd

Thank you so much for welcoming me to your blog!

As an inspirational historical romance author, it is my desire to weave truths into stories that will resonate with readers. When I wrote The Heiress of Winterwood, I knew I wanted to address the issue of pride. In fact, as I was writing this book, I committed this verse to memory and taped it to my computer:

When pride comes, then comes disgrace, but with humility comes wisdom. ~ Proverbs 11:2

It’s easy to think of pride as simply “arrogance,” but in reality it can take so many other forms.

In The Heiress of Winterwood, the heroine, Amelia Barrett, struggles with pride. She believes that if she works hard enough and plans carefully enough that she can affect the outcome of her situation. She thinks that her own strength will be enough to see her through her trials, and instead of relying on God and seeking His wisdom, she relies only on herself to find a solution to her problems. In the end, after heartbreak and uncertainty, Amelia learns that her pride was a prison, and it was only when she put her trust in God and humbled herself before Him that she found true freedom.

In today’s world, it is easy for us to fall into the trap of thinking that if we plan and work hard that our futures will simply fall into place. Is it important to work hard and plan for our futures? Yes. Is it an admirable quality to be steadfast and determined? Of course. But without prayer and without seeking God’s guidance, we could very well find that our efforts are in vain.

The truth is that it isn’t until we put our future into God’s hands that we find true peace and discover his purpose for our lives. Even though his plans may not be obvious at the time, we must trust that He, in His sovereignty, knows what is best for us and that He will grow us in the areas we need to grow in.

Point to ponder: Is there an area of your life where you are relying on your own strength?

In addition to a lifetime of writing and exploring fiction, Sarah has more than ten years of strategic marketing and brand management experience, including five years of marketing non-fiction books and three years of marketing the musical arts. She lives in Indiana and is blessed to share her life with her amazing husband, sweet daughter, and very lovable Golden Retriever.

Let’s connect!

Facebook

Twitter

Goodreads

Website

What are YOU Eating?

I’m what you would call a weekend junky. I try to eat healthy food during the week, but as soon as the weekend gets here, bring on the junk food. With a busy school schedule, homework, and an early Saturday morning job, by the weekend I am absolutely zomped. Every good intention goes out the door. When I’m tired, I tend to eat junk food—especially chocolate (maybe it’s the caffeine in it or because I’m a girl. Who knows). But that kind of food doesn’t help. If anything, it makes me feel languid, and I still don’t have energy.

Although I am a big fan of healthy eating, it’s so hard to eat that way. There’s processed foods all around us, and they can taste sooo good, but in the long run, how is the consumption of these fake foods effecting us? If I eat a lot of junk food, my face breaks out, I don’t have energy, I tend to eat more than usual, I’m not as productive, and let’s not mention the extra pounds I put on. But more importantly, is it effecting my effectiveness in furthering the Lord’s kingdom? Am I able to serve Him in the best way possible?

One of the first books I read on healthy eating was by Dr. Rex Russel, What the Bible Says About Healthy Living. It was amazing. Why wouldn’t the Bible have something to say about it? Our Creator knows what we need and don’t need to function correctly and to reach our utmost potential. We were given the perfect “diet”. Our bodies weren’t made to run on processed foods or huge amounts of chemicals and artificial sugars. I highly encourage you to pick the book up a local bookstore! After I read it, I didn’t want to have anything to do with processed foods. I couldn’t believe what kind of stuff I was putting in my body.

In an attempt to eat healthier, I tried my first green shake. It was amazing! I’m not a huge spinach fan, but I couldn’t even taste it!

1 Banana

1 apple

1 orange

3 handfuls of fresh spinach (or more)

1 cup yogurt

milk (about half a cup or so)

ice (optional)

In a blender, blend together banana, orange, apple, spinach, yogurt, and milk. ENJOY!

Optional: Add ice and blend.

servings: about three

God’s Best for Us

Lloyd John Ogilvie in his book God’s Best for My Life wrote, “The future is a friend. The Lord can help me overcome the past and not repeat its mistakes.”

A child can be obstinate. She wants to touch the pan on the stove, but you tell her not to because it’s hot and will hurt her hands. As soon as you turn away, she walks back to the stove and reaches for the pan again. Your voice becomes higher as you attempt to get your point across, hoping she will understand it’s for her own safety that your voice is raised in warning.

Even as adults, we’re not that different from children. We make the same mistakes over and again, and we sin today exactly the way we swore we wouldn’t sin yesterday. I know I’m guilty of this.

Because God knows what’s best for us, he sometimes has to “raise” his voice. He has to do something forceful to get our attention. Our futures are at stake, and God wants us to overcome our failures so that we may wholeheartedly embrace our promising futures. Getting our attention is sometimes painful on our parts; it’s all part of the consequences of our sin. But just know that when God does “raise” his voice and discipline us, it’s for our own good.

*Photo credit: Image courtesy of vorakorn / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Confessions of a Homemaking Pharisee | Bridget Lester

[image error]It all started a few weeks ago when I began reading a blog series called The Homemaking Pharisee. It is a wonderful series written by a homemaking mama, calling out different ways homemakers are judgmental with one another. At first, I loved this series because I identified with “the judged.” I think every mom has at some point experienced a fellow mom looking down their nose at them for choosing something different than that person, whether it be healthy eating or breastfeeding or vaccinating. It’s fairly easy to identify yourself with “the judged.” It is quite another thing entirely to identify yourself with “the Pharisee”. . . however, that is exactly where I found myself when I came across another blog series.

This one was called The Pendulum Series. It focused on the way we as Christians tend to swing from one end of the pendulum to another when it comes to certain issues. The first entry addressed the “Quiverfull Movement”, and how it can easily lead to becoming judgmental and isolated if we let our beliefs on family planning dictate how we treat other believers. This is where I first felt convicted. I began looking at my own heart and truly asking the Lord to show me my attitude about my beliefs and other believers. What He showed me was appalling. Instead of “love others as yourself” and “live with all men in an understanding way” I found that the prayer of my heart was shockingly similar to the prayer of the Pharisee. . . “Lord, I thank You that I am not like other men!” I had been judging other’s righteousness based on where they stood on MY beliefs, as if I am the standard of anything!!! In truth, seeing the ugliness of my own heart made me feel like less than the lowest tax collector. I really HAD become a Pharisee: clean on the outside, but filthy within. Like the Pharisees, my “holier than thou” attitude was alienating people instead of drawing them to Christ. And like the Pharisees, I was incapable of truly experiencing God when I was so concerned with mine and everyone else’s works. In that moment, I understood for the first time the prayer of the tax collector. “Lord, have mercy on me, a sinner!!”

That day, the Lord forgave this Homemaking Pharisee, and she is no more. Instead of praying that the Lord would change the hearts of my friends on certain issues, I am now praying for wisdom to make the right decisions for my own family. Instead of being quick to offer my own opinions to other moms, now I just want to share the love and grace I have been so richly given.

This doesn’t mean that I have stopped believing the Bible is clear on certain issues, or that I have changed my stance on those issues. But it does mean that I have chosen to stop identifying with labels such as “Attachment Parent” or “Quiverfull Mom”, and chosen to stop running around trying to convince everyone that they should be those things too. Instead I have chosen to embrace who I truly am: a fallen sinner saved by undeserved grace; a child of God, sinful, learning, messing up, growing. I now choose to quietly sit at the feet of Jesus instead of praying empty prayers loudly in the street. Oh the sweet freedom of being a little child instead of a Pharisee!! I humbly ask forgiveness for the hurt I have caused to others by being a Pharisee. I hope now to move forward with the words of Jesus singing in my heart. . .”Child, your sins are forgiven. Now go, and sin no more.”

 

[image error]Bridget Lester a daughter to the King of Kings, wife to an incredible husband and mommy to two precious babies. An ordinary woman serving an extraordinary God. Visit her at Set Apart Heart.