GraceLaced » Motherhood

Knit Together In A Fallen World

Ruth — Mon, 20 May 2013 06:25:40 +0000

Ten tiny fingers,
Ten tiny toes.
Eyes that cross
when he tries to look into mine.
Cowlicks in a pattern unique to only him.
A swaddled miracle–
an inexplicable marvel
in a world of the empirical.
That a life is knit within a mother’s womb
is nothing short of grace and glory.

And we live in a world that extols a child as a wonder if that child is desired and yearned for, and dismissed as unsubstantial if he isn’t.

I never feel the crushing pain of unwanted babies like I do when I bring one of mine home to our loving family. I’ve been overcome with a flood of emotions each of the last six times we’ve welcomed home a precious newborn, helpless, vulnerable, and eager for nurturing. I’ve stared in amazement at the tiny limbs that once kept me awake at night with its kicks and stretches…and I’ve wrapped my arms around my 11 year old whose little shallow breaths seemed like only yesterday; it passes so quickly. The anticipation of life and the progression of life– equally awe inspiring, equally breathtaking.

This last homecoming was no different, except the pain was sharper…I had a perpetual lump in my throat and an ache in my heart as I followed the Gosnell trial and the implications and reverberations of it’s outcome:

“The “not guilty” count related to Baby E, who uttered a noise before being killed. Jurors could not determine conclusively that such a sound represented a sign of life.” (source)

or, this…

“Gosnell’s attorney had argued it was “ludicrous” to say a baby was alive merely because it was moving. His case was bolstered when Chief Medical Examiner Sam Gulino said he could not determine from the frozen remains whether the babies had been delivered alive.” (source)

I raged inside with how it could be possible for a man to be so amoral, so capable of such repeatedly heinous acts toward infants. How could he discard these human lives and yet contend with the reality of seeing himself in the mirror each day: That he was born of a woman and lived.

The beauty and wonder of conception, gestation, and birth lays bare my position as the created and God’s as the creator. There is nothing so intricate, so sophisticated, so uniquely designed as a human life within the womb. I’m humbled by it’s magnificence, and am astounded to be a finite being, used in such in infinite way. The most devastating thing about Gosnell is not that he is a monster that devalued life–he is– but that he is a man who has spuriously valued himself above his creator. He’s made his kingdom his god and taken life into his own hands.

But for the grace of God, I, too, would be, at my core, capable of sneering at life, laughing off the inconvenience of babies, and preoccupied with my own kingdom to the point of compromise. Not all who seek after their own kingdoms commit such heinous crimes, but it is the mercy of God that restrains us from becoming as wicked as we could be. Because nothing of true goodness, sacrifice, and love comes all that naturally to any of us, and the most dispicable of sins pour forth readily from willing vessels of body and mind…we can only believe (as horrid the thought may be) that we are not Gosnell because of saving Grace.

That reality does not cause me to excuse his actions or pity his ruin. Instead, it drives me to pray for this soul that showed such contempt for his Maker that he discarded the creator’s creation. I fear for him.

My heart’s been grieved over a fallen world and overjoyed for the underserved blessing of six beautiful sons. Whether you’ve experienced it once, or six times, the wonder of birth and babies is nothing short of a miracle…a grace-filled wonder. Nothing of the grotesque, heinous, and heart-wrenching atrocities committed against these little ones will ever change that fact, nor any place more secure and loving than Jesus’ loving arms. That Jesus…he is more than a comforter, more than a shelter, more than the healer.

He is the King eternal, the righteous judge, the Redeemer. Come, Lord Jesus…may your kingdom come. And until that day, help us to treasure what you treasure and value life…every breath we are given.

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Linking up in community…

Welcome to GraceLaced Mondays, a link up dedicated to sharing any and all blog posts by like-minded lovers of grace–God’s grace! Grace is found in the everyday when you are intentional about taking note of it…and I invite you to share your story, great or small, of how everyday moments are full of Grace.

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Remembering That Babies Don’t Keep

Ruth — Thu, 16 May 2013 06:12:41 +0000

I wish I could say that adjusting to six has been a piece of cake. It really hasn’t. Clearly, it’s easier in that we don’t pull over anxiously when a newborn wails. I don’t panic when the little man spits up, blows out, or grows baby acne. I’ve seen it all before. Nothing new here.

And yet…I wake up everyday to the reality that I have six young boys to care for! Troy and I have never felt as outnumbered and overwhelmed as we do now. There is continual running in and out of the house…and constant yelling, laughing, wrestling, sword-fighting, arguing, whining, and crying. I’m sure it’s no different at your house. There is a two year old conveniently pitching a temper tantrum over the slightest thing while I nurse the baby, unable to attend to the correction and training that is needed. There’s the trying to teach three older boys while three little ones wreak havoc. Work outside of the home is demanding, as is the work inside the home. The house requires attention as do all the members who live within it. That’s the story of my life…and of yours, I’m sure.

And we, as parents, are so aware of our shortcomings and limitations. I’m so aware of how little time I have in relation to how great the need for my attention.

But still…we are reminded, all the more, of how quickly it’s flying by…the sixth who is a month old and the first, who’s already 11. The housework and the daily routine won’t let up, but this…this time with our youngest mancub will pass. He will not always fit perfectly within the cradle of my arms or the curve of my neck. He will not always need me the way he does now.

And our gracious God doesn’t mean for us to bustle about, stressing, obsessing, and shouldering unnecessary burdens. We are meant to only carry what he’s given us to carry…and sometimes, that’s simply not more than a 10-12 lb. baby for a time.

The meals will need fixing and the laundry folding, but I will be pausing, more eagerly, more willingly, more expectantly.

It’s not the falling behind on home and responsibilities that this girl’s got to be concerned about…it’s the getting too far ahead to notice what I’ve left behind.

Mother, oh mother, come shake out your cloth!
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing and butter the bread,
Sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking!

Oh, I’ve grown as shiftless as Little Boy Blue
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due.
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue?

Oh, cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
But children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust, go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby. Babies don’t keep.

-Ruth Hulburt Hamilton (1958)

Thoughts From Aisle 10 {Mother’s Day Cards}

Ruth — Fri, 10 May 2013 06:33:09 +0000

It’s the Mother’s Day card aisle at Target, and I’m not picking out a card; I’m watching people.

I can’t help it. I’m a woman of nuances, of details, and of observing moments that may go unseen. There are women of all ages crowding this aisle as I survey the scene stealthily. I’m reading their expressions and the look in their eyes. I’m guessing at the collective thoughts in the cluttered dialogue bubbles swarming over this aisle.

“Maybe not this one…it’s too sappy.”

“Wish I could say this of my mom.”

“This is one I wish I could receive, but I haven’t been this inspiring, this loving, this encouraging.”

“How about a funny one–to keep it light.”

“I’m not sure we see our relationship the same way…”

“I want to honor her and tell her I love her, but my mom really wasn’t all these things to me.”

“There’s so much I need to say to my mom, but it’s just so hard to say it sometimes.”

“What kind of card do I need to get to make her happy, so she won’t be disappointed.”

These thoughts begin to form…

Mothers so often measure themselves and their own mothers through the lens of idealism and performance. Our feelings about mothering waver between pride and failure, feeling confident when we receive accolades, and disappointment when we are unrecognized. We place our value on the work we’ve done, not who we are. And, somewhere in the midst of those feelings, Mother’s Day plays a part in adding or detracting from that view of ourselves, as we seek to acquire balm for our inadequacies, or fuel to our good works.

A relationship with mom is the first one we know, and for most of us, it is the relationship that permeates so much of our ideas of acceptance, love, value, and purpose–for good or for bad. The truth is, we were each raised by faulty, and sinful human beings. And, for those of us who become mothers, we find ourselves excelling in some areas of motherhood and failing miserably in others, but nonetheless proving that we are nothing more than sinners under construction, ourselves.

None of the cards in the Mother’s Day aisle speaks the full truth about us as mothers. Perhaps it’s time we stop beating ourselves up for not measuring up to the sentiments we wish we embodied. Perhaps it’s time for us to stop putting our own mothers on trial when there isn’t a card that is honest about the struggles and joys of a complicated relationship. Perhaps we should set aside the checklist of idealistic motherhood, and celebrate Mother’s Day by one standard alone: the hope of the new identity we have in Christ as redeemed and forgiven daughters…daughters who, by the grace of God, can and will become more like Christ– THE IDEAL.

This Mother’s Day, it’s not your achievement in motherhood --no matter how accomplished– that makes you more precious to your Savior; you are precious because you are his daughter. It’s not how well you are acknowledged that determines your value. You are valued because he has ransomed you. So, Happy Mother’s Day…to all of us who are not yet the mothers we want to be, but rejoice in the celebration of the mothers we are becoming in view of the Cross. You are greatly loved.

When It Doesn’t Come Naturally, It Comes By Grace

Ruth — Mon, 06 May 2013 06:48:02 +0000

Would it surprise you to know that I never aspired to be a mother, much less a mother of six? In fact, I didn’t give much thought to the art of homemaking as a young woman, as I was more than preoccupied with my notions of ambition and education, value and worth, none of which included the regular use of a mop or the continual employment of diapers for 11 years. I still chuckle when I think about how difficult it was for Troy to get me to go and register with him for wedding gifts. Picking out china, shower curtains, pots and pans…it just wasn’t high on my priority list.

Domesticity and motherhood seemed far too docile and tame for a girl who dreamed of the front lines on the mission field, or perhaps owning my own business, or delving deep into an area of study…I didn’t know, I just knew it’d be more exciting than being a mother and housewife. My twenty-something self would never have believed that my approaching-40 self would become a mother of six boys who teaches her children at home (and makes a mean dutch baby.:)) Little did I know what an adventure and marathon motherhood would be.

It’s funny that I don’t think I’ve ever shared this, in almost six years of blogging here. The love of motherhood, of teaching my children, of purposefully crafting a memorable meal, of creatively reflecting beauty in my home, of doing the same thing day after day after day…those things do not come to me naturally. They are the result of pruning and cultivation.

If you’ve ever wondered if you’re cut out for this old-fashioned homemaker, loving wife, stay-at-home-mom thing, you are in good company. And, I might just add, that you are perhaps better off–wrestling insecurity and ability–than if you were a domestic goddess. Here’s why…

I’ve only been alive 37 years, but I find this little observation to be true again and again: Those who are naturally gifted at something often know less of motivation, gratitude, and the wonder of overcoming obstacles. Whereas, those who feel less than adequate yet pursue a course nonetheless, experience motivation, gratitude, and the wonder of overcoming obstacles bountifully.

And for us, the redeemed in Christ, the motivation, gratitude, and wonder of overcoming obstacles only increases in the light of God’s faithfulness to make his callings his enablings. Remember the testimony of the Apostle Paul? It was not his credentials, ability, or even appearance, that caused him to be used of God; it was simply his utter submission to Christ. In fact, it is Paul who encourages us with this: “For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” (2 Corinthians 12:10) God doesn’t call the able, but those incapable in their own strength! THIS is the paradox of the Gospel.

I’ve had a lot of time to think lately, as I gaze at my ever-changing almost 3-week old. I’ve marveled in amazement at how I’ve become a stay-at-home mom, as unlikely as it should have been…

It wasn’t for a lack of career that I chose motherhood…
Nor was it for a love of homemaking that I stayed at home full-time…
I didn’t grow up in a large family…
I don’t have terribly good organizational skills…
and I’m habitually poor at sacrificing my own comforts in service to others…
And yet, the Lord has faithfully woven my dearth of experience, ability, and natural desire into the story of sanctification, maturity, and calling in my life.

You see it again and again…our God delights in making the impossible possible.

So, to all the unlikely mothers, resistant homemakers, and unsure home-schoolers…you need not be discouraged. We are right where we need to be when we feel less than we want to be. Let your today-self anticipate the transforming work he will do to make the impossible possible in the woman you never knew you could become tomorrow.

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The Marathon Of Motherhood and Why I Get Tripped Up

Ruth — Thu, 02 May 2013 06:10:43 +0000

I muttered these words under my breath all day yesterday:

“Oh, if I have to clean up one more spill!”
“Why doesn’t anyone ever put things back where they belong?”
“Please just stop talking…”
“I can’t do this.”
“If only…”
“I just want to get something done today.”

That was the mother I was yesterday. I was tired, I was anxious, I was looking to my to-do list and not to Christ’s to-BE list. Have I forgotten everything I learned about my true identity in Christ? Have I so quickly forgotten that I do not need to have everything go my way to have peace today? That a clean home is not my shelter and orderly children don’t earn me anything that the blood of Christ hasn’t already provided for? That the thing standing in my way to happiness today is ultimately my expectations wrapped up in sinful pride.

When I have a day like yesterday, it serves to remember that motherhood is a marathon, not a sprint. Dirt and dust, accidents, crying, messy diapers, and dishes will not cease at the end of the day. We so often act like we can overcome these inconveniences of daily living in one fell swoop…like it is somehow possible to so accurately manage the unpleasantries of working in the home that we might never have to tackle those things again. It’s not how efficiently you get it all done today, it’s how well you run the race to the finish.

The reality is: What we might perceive as unpleasant, inconvenient, and exhausting tasks of motherhood, actually serve to accurately reveal what we desperately rely on for comfort. We depend on those comforts, hoping that we might not need to look elsewhere, or to anyone else, for sustenance. We often live like we want to run our own race, according to our own rules, for our own glory.

We rebel against humility, weakness, lowliness, and dependence upon our Master…and try (and fail miserably) to fulfill ourselves through meager means of control and striving. And Jesus woos our rebel’s heart by allowing our efforts to come up short and our attempts at satisfying ourselves to feel empty. Instead, he fills the void with what we cannot muster up for ourselves: patience, joy, forgiveness, wisdom, humility, righteousness…an eternal perspective…all of which I desperately needed yesterday.

Jesus bled for those muttered words of discontent. He redeemed this mother who fails, who wrestles, who isn’t a naturally good mother. (Who is?!)

His mercies are new every morning. Great is thy faithfulness, Lord...Today will be unlike yesterday, by your grace, and for your glory…as I submit to the marathon of motherhood. I hope you’ll join me today.

How To Cultivate Friendship Among Siblings

Ruth — Mon, 29 Apr 2013 06:05:29 +0000

Even with the master bedroom now turned into an all-boys bunkroom (I promise I’ll post pictures sometime in the next year ), true camaraderie between the boys doesn’t just happen. Sure, they love each other, but friendship– loyalty, laughter, considering one another more important than yourself– that doesn’t come naturally. And, with a new baby, I sit at my spot where I nurse throughout the day and watch (and hear) all the interaction between the boys through the filter of “What kind of brotherhood is Haddon growing in to?”

Not a day goes by where there isn’t fighting and bickering among them; feelings get hurt, careless words fly, and defenses are raised. So believe me– it is not bliss and kumbaya-around-the-fire everyday at the Simons’ house. But as I do believe that loving takes continual effort, it’s really no surprise to find us learning these lessons over and over again…

Originally published May 16, 2011.

I wrote last week about the Brotherhood at our house. I spoke of the boys becoming best of friends. I don’t know of any parent who wishes for their children to simply co-exist and tolerate one another. Although it is common to hear a mother request for her children to “just get along,” it is never for the lack of desire for her children to “love one another.” Mothers long for their children to be best of friends…for their children to defend one another…for them to enjoy spending time with each other. I’m sure I’m not the only one who encourages my children to this end.

I was pleased to read the question: “Any words of wisdom on how to encourage that?” in the comments last week, as it was my intention to follow-up that post by writing about this very thing. Because my mind is currently supplied by the broken-up sleep of a mom with a newborn, I am collecting my thoughts through a handful of bullet points. I humbly submit this encouragement as ways our family nurtures friendship within our home. I hope these, and many other ideas you discover, bring your children together in ways that last a lifetime.

So, today’s post is dedicated to a subject dear to every mother’s heart: How do we foster friendship in our children?

What We Must Believe As Parents:

That it is possible for siblings to be friends.
That the family is central; that family is what God has provided to demonstrate the Gospel and the love of Christ to our children.
That friendship and family-centeredness is not the ultimate goal…but Christ-centeredness IS.
If Christ-centeredness is the ultimate goal, then our kids will love one another empowered by, and in response to, the love of God.
Our kids’ first example of friendship is by observing their parents.
Subsequent children learn about friendship by observing the relationship between older children.
Prioritizing time with family friends keeps the siblings together for social gatherings rather than apart.
Guilt and manipulation are not lasting (or right) motivators, but joy and love are.
Our kids will find their siblings endearing and special when they hear us as parents speak primarily of their endearing and special traits, rather than their challenging ones.

What We Must Communicate To Our Children:

To consider one another more important than yourself. (Phil. 2:3)
That it is more important to win the heart of your brother than it is to win a game.
There’s great joy in loving each other more than your “own things”; which is to say: sharing or letting a sibling in proves more enjoyable than keeping him out.
Always protect and stand up for your sibling, especially among your friends.
You are teaching your younger brother how to be a friend by the way you treat him; be the kind of friend you want to have.

May our children be true friends and strong in their love for one another…that those around them may be blessed and encouraged by the work of the Gospel in their lives!

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Number 5 Turns 2

Ruth — Fri, 26 Apr 2013 21:16:33 +0000

Tomorrow my Number 5 turns 2. This little one was born into an emotional and painfully stretching time in our family’s journey. But God brought him into the world with sparkly eyes– eyes that say, “Smile! You have no idea what God will do next!”

He’s been a constant source of hilarity, wonder, sweetness, and reminder that God tells big stories through little moments…and little people.

His oldest big brother promised piggybacks down the stairs…and he’s kept his promise. He’s got amazing examples of loyalty, sharing, gentleness, and camaraderie in his older brothers. And now, Number 5 is a big brother. He’s slowly picking up the ways of brotherhood, and my prayer is that this birthday boy will one day be among the ranks of big brothers Number 6 will look up to as well.

And as these early days with a newborn prove to be exhausting, disorienting, and easily wished away for it’s challenges, I’m gladly reminded in this 2 yr. old’s face, that two years flies by…

…that newborn diapers quickly become size 4′s without warning…

…that dependance becomes independence whether you’re ready for it or not…

…that yesterday’s gurgles become today’s expressive formations of toddler thoughts…

I can’t wait to hear all that’s on your heart and mind, my little Asa boy. Happy birthday, my Number 5 mancub.

Welcoming Baby Boy Number 6

Ruth — Mon, 22 Apr 2013 06:26:52 +0000

With a diaper bag packed and ready to go, I started the first layer of a new painting last Monday, hoping to keep my mind off of the impending due date. We can be so anxious, waiting for what we do not know, when the Lord has us securely in his hands…

My birth story is short and sweet: I had inconsistent, but uncomfortable contractions on Monday night. They stopped and I went to bed. I woke up at 3 am Tuesday morning, unable to sleep through the contactions that were building. As with the other labors, I quickly jumped in the shower and begin timing the contractions. By the time I dry off, I’m convinced it is the real thing, call Grandma and Grandpa to stay with the boys, and we head off to the hospital. There may have been some crazy driving at 3:30 am, as the labor intensified very rapidly. My sweet hubby, who is now well-acquainted with my labor stages (he says I do this thing with my leg when I’m really in pain), grabbed a wheelchair and rushed me up to triage, giving specific directions to the nurses that I have fast labors (which is not equivalent to easy, by the way) and should be checked right away. Thankfully, they listened to him, found me to be 9 cm. dialated, and quickly rushed me to a birthing room. I’m guessing that was around 3:45…and at 4:07, baby Haddon was born, caught and brought into the world, as with his brothers, by a proud dad.

Haddon, named after Charles Haddon Spurgeon. Born 8 lbs. 1 oz., 20 inches long, on April 16, 2013.

If you follow me on Instagram, you may remember the thoughts and stories behind these photos…

…of doing nothing but enjoying time with my sweet baby, giving thanks for his safe and healthy arrival…

…of a dad who takes his job seriously and finds himself overwhelmed at the privilege of raising six boys…

…of the stress and exhaustion of a busy household of 8, and the joy of mama’s milk settling a hungry belly…

…of a big brother meeting his baby brother for the first time…

…and being caught chatting it up with the mancub he calls, “the other bookend”…

…and of sleepless nights, recovery difficulties, and quiet moments where thanksgiving overcomes exhaustion…

…And of my dear Mr. Simons, who’s a skilled multi-tasker and the most hands-on dad I know.

We welcome you, sweet Number 6. Your family is not perfect…but God has perfectly placed you with us, and he makes no mistakes.

And, readers and friends…thank you, thank you for rejoicing with us, and for those of you who prayed over us! GraceLaced, though not meant to be my personal family website or journal, has become a joyful marriage of what I’m burdened to write about and who I am personally. I am so honored that you join me here, and that you allow me to share my family’s story.

I am an average wife, mom, and Christian. My life is as normal as yours– there are children fighting, dust collecting, laundry building, and a mama striving through prayer. But for the Grace of God, I would know nothing of joy and satisfaction in the mundane of everyday life or the worship of Christ in the challenges of motherhood. May you only see Jesus here.

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What You Should Know As You Make Your Entrance, Little One

Ruth — Mon, 15 Apr 2013 06:10:18 +0000

Dear baby boy,

It’s safe and protected where you are right now. You are rocked to sleep as I waddle up the stairs with laundry. You don’t know how tired I am…from where you are, it feels but warm and soothing. And that’s how it should be.

In a few short days (or perhaps even hours!) you will enter the world in which so many friends and family have anticipated your arrival. Our arms will be welcoming and my breath will be warm on your cheeks. But darling, this world is not a soft and gentle place. Your skin will immediately know the dryness of the air…but my dear, that is just the beginning of it’s harsh influences.

You will arrive in a world that is conflicted. It isn’t sure what is truly right and what is wrong. It doesn’t always know what’s worth fighting for. Nor does it understand the purpose of existence. It’s a world that can’t solve the problems it creates for itself. It is a world that prides itself on self-sufficiency and power, and yet is helpless to find lasting joy or meaning in any of its acquisitions.

You will arrive in a home that is full of imperfect people. A home that is constantly toggling between the sounds of boys yelling and boys laughing. Sometimes it’s hard to tell which is which. Sometimes it’s hard to enjoy. It is a home where tears are often prefaced by anger, but almost always end in confessing and forgiving.

You will find yourself loved by a group of people who want to love well– they want it so badly that they often try to do it by their own means and fail altogether. You will be loved selflessly. Ands sometimes selfishly. You will find a quiver-full of brothers who sometimes hit the mark, and sometimes have no clue where they’re aiming for.

Your mom and dad will look at each other adoringly when you arrive, sweet boy. But, don’t be alarmed when, in a moment of discouragement, they turn and blame one another for the stress and difficulty in their lives. They do that sometimes. But, they know the difference between lies and truth, and truth always wins. Remember that, sweet one.

Of all the things I could tell you, there is nothing more important than this: You will enter a family, within a home, within a world that is all less than they were meant to be. But, God–who formed you in the secret– makes all the redeemed more than they could ever hope to become. That hope is the one thing that is not of this world–Christ. The miracle of you, little one, is the reminder that we are but dust and creatures in the Creator’s hands.

This week…you will not be born simply into this world and all the error of it’s ways. You will be born into the Hope that gives new life, that that will right every wrong, that takes all that is less than and makes them more.

In fact, He makes us new. Not just sweet, dewy-fresh baby skin, but new from the inside out.

We can’t wait to welcome you.

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For Wherever He’s Taking You In Motherhood

Ruth — Fri, 12 Apr 2013 09:00:06 +0000

We are exactly 1 week away from Number 6′s due date, and there is great excitement and anticipation around here. There is so much unknown with a new little life. What journey will the Lord lead us on with this child? What joys and challenges will we uniquely face in raising this child that He has created?

Sometimes motherhood is what we expected, or more…but sometimes motherhood ushers in a journey of faith that we did not intend to go through. Do you identify with this?

I’m at The Better Mom today, sharing about trusting the Lord when He takes you where you never intended to go in motherhood. He is faithful, even there…where you didn’t plan to be. Join me at The Better Mom today.