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This has been one of those weeks that simulated a roller coaster for my emotions.  Up, down, upside down, shoot back up.

I’m not a roller coaster type of gal.  All of that can leave this mama exhausted in every way possible.

Our weekend was full.  Of learning, of fellowship, of family fun.

The speaker at the retreat we attended was speaking right to my heart and situation. How to hear God, how to really hear what He is saying to me and how He is saying it.  A verse shared that confirmed an exciting realization.

The enemy knows when change is taking place in my heart and attempted to thwart the momentum.  The attempt was momentarily successful but through journaling, tears and prayer I got back on track.

Then, as I already shared, Monday was a super special day for our family.

Life resumed it’s hectic pace with ministry, meetings and physical therapy.  Driving the mom taxi.  More personal attack.  Order Sweet Pea’s birthday cake.  Coffee with a friend.  Typing up information for grants. Texting with teen mama’s.  Planning an upcoming Bible study.  Hurtful backlash from Monday’s announcement.  The thrill of launching my first eBook Bible study.

The high of seeing this sweet baby eating her first birthday cake

Sweet Pea's 1st birthday

The wonder of 19 teen moms attending our first YoungLives club of the school year last night.  The laughter, the games, the hugs {those girls have no idea how privileged they should feel to get to hug me, the non-huggingist woman on the planet}..it was a good-in-an-exhausting-kind-of-way, laugh-till-you-pee-your-pants type of night.

Then there is the discomfort of my past colliding with the present before I feel ready or prepared. And, I can’t say much more than that right now.

Another day of physical therapy {I’m making progress, y’all}, meetings, squeezing in a much needed eyebrow wax and preparing for Sweet Pea’s princess themed birthday bash tomorrow.

I am feeling empty.  Sucked dry like parched ground waiting for rain.

Where are You, God?  I was getting ready to wave my finger in His Almighty face because He felt further and further away as the week progressed.  And, He reminded me, through an image of a toddler climbing up their Daddy’s pant leg, that He was right there.  I was the one that was ebbing away.

I just needed to be willing to scale anything to get to Him.  To not let the distractions of life distract me from Him.  To not let hurt and disappointment keep me away.  To not let good things hold me back from the Best thing.

Living Water flows when we abide in Him.

Blessed is the one who does not walk in step with the wicked or stand in the way that sinners take or sit in the company of mockers,  but whose delight is in the law of the LORD, and who meditates on his law day and night. That person is like a tree planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in season and whose leaf does not wither— whatever they do prospers.  Not so the wicked! They are like chaff that the wind blows away.  Psalm 1: 1-4

This weekend, I am stepping away from the ebb and flow, from the distractions of this crazy life and delighting myself in time with my Lord, every chance I can make. I am cutting through the clutter in my heart, mind and circumstance.

It is just what this weary mama’s heart and soul needs.

Do you need time with your Lord?

The sign in the back window states “student driver”.

photo credit: www.magnetking.com

I was finding myself annoyed that {seemingly} every stinkin’ morning, I got stuck behind these kids that don’t have a clue what they are doing and drive like there is molasses in their gas tank.

Then one morning the sign “student driver” struck a different chord in my heart.

Wouldn’t it be nice if we all wore a sign that reminded people to be patient with us because we are still learning?

To be cautious around us because we don’t feel comfortable with the weight of our responsibility yet?

To be quietly rooting for us to do a good job?

On the road of life I am {for sure} still a student driver.  I am thankful God reminded me of that and instead of tapping my fingers on the steering wheel impatiently, I am going to crank up my praise and worship songs for the extra five minutes it takes to reach home in the morning.

And the counting of gifts continues {#111-#120}:

~ the twinkling Christmas lights still gleaming from our Christmas tree {I will take it down eventually}

~ a hubby that teaches our children how to drive so I don’t have to

~ weight watcher point tracker app

~ reading highlighted portions of my old Bibles and finding new joy in the Word

~ Starbucks gift card for my birthday

~ finding a wallet to perfectly match my purse {it truly is the little things, people}

~ those moments where God shows up huge and no one knows but you and Him {unless you share because how can you keep His amazing ways to yourself?}

~ energetic puppy kisses

~ belly laughing with my teenagers

~ carrot cake for my birthday, complete with cream cheese frosting

The shift in perspective from not wanting to get older to being excited that God has granted another year on this earth. It is life changing.

Not everyone gets that.  And that is okay.

But I get it.

and so birthdays, like yesterday, full of friends and laughter and good food and thanksgiving and fun and not sweating the small stuff {like our van breaking down on the way to dinner} are the kind of birthdays I enjoy.

photo courtesy of www.zazzle.com

New hair cuts and buttered popcorn at the movies and hugs from my usually hug stingy boys.

A smile from my love that speaks the depths of his love for me.

A hug from the girl that calls me Mom as she eats up the family time a birthday brings as if licking icing off her fingers.

Thirty one was a good year: a year of change, shifting of focus, serving and learning.

A year of having all teenagers and then adding another teen {a girl!} to the mix and her babe.  Becoming a Mimi.

A year of discovering a new season of ministry and finding my voice and my place and my path.

Letting go of what I thought my life would look like and embracing the picture of the everyday.

A year of growing in my marriage as we learned what it looks like to serve side by side and the joy that brings to a union.

I have no idea what thirty two has in store, but know that with God it will be another year I am grateful for.  Every.single.day.

You are social.

You are proud.

You are moody.

You are intelligent.

You are funny.

You are generous.

You are friendly.

You are industrious.

You are passionate.

You are….

a lot like your mama.

Which is why we bump heads and disagree and say we are sorry and move on until the next time that we bump heads and disagree…

Happy Birthday, my first born (of my womb) son. You are growing up so fast and in many ways I have grown up with you.  Thank you for being patient with me. 

Time is going by way too fast.  It seems like yesterday, I was just a scared seventeen year old waiting to meet her destiny.  All 5lbs 6 oz of him.  And now, you are almost as tall as me, tan and strong, golden skin and pesto colored eyes.  You challenge your dad and I everyday- particularly with this adolescent stuff- but we couldn’t love you more!

I can’t wait to see all the things God has in store for your life.  Your willingness to be used by Him and for Him is inspiring and remarkable.  You were made to be a blessing and you fulfill that purpose every day.

Thank you for being you.

His (almost) three year old little self pulls me energetically towards the kittens down the hall… “Tome on mommy, let’s go look at the kitties” (except he said his hard c’s and k’s like t’s so you can imagine how comical that was).  The fact that he is calling me mommy just a few days after we met is not lost on me and I feel the weight of what that could mean with each step down the hall.

He’s my son.

(Almost) three years later we sit in the back of the car together.  He again slides his hand into mine as we drive away from his old life and toward a new life in our home.  He is stoic, already jaded by his experiences and the disappointments life can present.  He doesn’t cry. He doesn’t ask why.  He just holds my hand and doesn’t look back.

He’s my son.

(almost) Three years later he struggles to integrate into a “normal” family.  Life is full of extremes.  One minute enjoying the warmth of his mama’s lap while she reads Captain Underpants, the next striking out in anger because he didn’t like the way his eggs were cooked.  One day winning the county art award for his drawing of outer space, aptly entitled “I’d Rather Be Dreaming”, the next hiding under his bed and screaming like a caged animal at the thought of going to school.  One day having a sleep over birthday party with his friends and eating ice cream cake that turned his teeth black, the next being admitted to the psychiatric hospital (again) for being unable to control his anger and hurting his brothers and I. The adoption becomes final and it’s official…

He’s my son.

(almost) three years later and he lives in a “therapeutic” setting.  His behavior controlled for the most part, after years of therapy and learning the skills he didn’t learn at those critical years between 1 and 5.  One day he tries to do his best, the next he feels hopeless and wonders why he should bother.  He wishes he could come home, so do I.  He grows tall and handsome like his daddy.  He just may be okay.

He’s my son.

“Come on, mom.  I want to show you something”.  Now taller than me, he still longs to please me.  He opens a book, full of drawings of wild cats.  “I think I know what I want to do when I get out of here” (otherwise known as graduate).  He has hopes, he has dreams.  He has potential.  And, despite all that has transpired in the last 14 years…

He’s my son.

And I love him.  I’m proud of him. If I could take away his struggles I would.  If I could bear his burden myself I would.  If I could change what happened to him and what he did to us I would.  Gladly.  Happily.  Knowing that my boy would be okay.

He is seventeen today.  Almost a full grown man.  And still…you guessed it, my son.  This video says it better than I ever could.  And, is perfect for Holy Week.  Thinking of what another mother must have been feeling two thousand years ago.

Happy Birthday, Jason!  I love you!

One of today’s questions is
What was the best part of a past birthday that you shared with your kids?

Well, last night my hubby and boys took me out for an early birthday dinner (Jared has a basketball game tomorrow night and we have church on Wednesdays). TMI? Sorry LOL. Anywhoo, we had a blast!

I enjoyed my kids when they were little and there are times I miss those days so bad it hurts. But, times like last night remind me of what smart, clever, witty, sweet young men they are turning into. Their company was enjoyable and they had me laughing till I peed myself (literally) Thank goodness, by that time we were in the car. Then they looked at me like I was crazy, which just made me laugh harder.

They ordered off the adult menu (steaks) and ate everything on their plates! The days of kids meals in our house are gone. Jared shared a dessert with me and Matt shared one with Mike. They sang Happy Birthday to me at the top of their lungs in the middle of a restuarant (I think the happy clappy waitresses would have garnered less attention to our table).

So, as far as spending birthdays with my guys, this one has been pretty good so far. And, thanks fellas, for making your mama feel loved (and old).

Stop by Momdot and The Not so Blog, Blog for more fun and chances to win great prizes!

I am still playing along for my birthday week and today we are invited to tell the story of our children’s first birthdays.
~As I adopted Jason I wasn’t there for his first birthday but his first birthday with us was his 6th birthday. It corresponded with the time that he arrived in our home and Easter so it was a big, family filled adventure. The cutest pic I have (which didn’t scan well or I would’ve shared) of that party is the three boys in the red wagon Jason got as a gift from his parents. They were all small enough to fit in their together. I love that photo.

~I was a young mama (got pregnant with Jared at 16, had him when I was 17) and it probably took the entire first year of his life for me to feel comfortable around him. He was born five weeks early, had no sucking reflex and spent time in the hospital after birth so it was difficult for me to bond with him right away. (meanwhile, my boyfriend (now hubby) bonded with no problem and they are still thick as thieves). But, by the time Jared was a year old, I was no longer scared he was going to break and had really evolved into my role as mama. His first birthday party was fun and in May so we celebrated my first mother’s day at the same time.

~Matthew’s first birthday was huge- he looooved tractors and we had a big tractor party, complete with Daddy giving rides on the back of his. Matt was already walking and into eveything and pulled some of his decorations down on himself.

This little exercise has shown me that I need to devote some time this year to getting some pictures scanned and on our computer. I don’t really have that many saved from pre-digital camera days LOL

Okay friends- I turn the big 3-0 this Thursday. Imagine my glee when I found a bloggy party for birthday girls going on this week at Momdot and The Not So Blog,Blog(in honor of their daughters, not me- but hey a blogger can stretch the rules).

So, go visit these blogs- say Happy Birthday to two sweet little girls (Lily and Charlotte) and don’t forget to say Happy Birthday to me too