Wednesday, October 7, 2015

Doing Hard Things

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I’ll spare you the details of my junior high track and field glory days. I can summarize the jist of the self-inflicted punishment (WHY did we think running for hours would be fun?), in the phrase that I repeated over and over as I puffed around the track: “slow and steady wins the race!” I use the word “win” verrrrrrrry loosely in these terms. As in, I ran the whole last lap of the mile by myself at the first track meet. Have mercy.

Fast forward to now. I’m 4 months postpartum of back to back babies and vaguely remember a blessed thing called sleep. I’ve started to run again because, well, I’ll take a 30 minute break any way that I can get it and taking that Neuro class in college has forever ruined me with being obsessed with doing things that are good for my brain. (By the way- exercise is SUPER for your brain.)

So, here I am, painfully, slowly, gaspingly, panting around my neighborhood trying to focus on my pre-baby jeans. Day after day, at the end of the “run” (and by “run” I mean mostly WALK) I keep coming up on this big annoying hill that leads back into my apartment complex and this is where I normally slow my pace to “leisurely stroll” while willing my face to return to a color that isn’t a shade of fire engine red. Except the other day, I thought “come on now mama… DO SOMETHING HARD… RUN THIS HILL GIRL!” And I did it. And then I passed out and (almost) died.

As silly as it sounds, that phrase stuck with me when I opened the door and walked back into real life of constant rocking and burping and butt wiping. I am so super obsessed with my kids. (Follow me on Instagram if you need proof). But sometimes, the days get long… I get tired of unloading the dishwasher, and I’d rather mindlessly scroll some social media instead of engaging my toddler in another round of the “B, B, C’s.” But its like the holy spirit won’t let me forget the charge.

Do something hard mama!

Choose to joyfully serve your family. Choose to stare at your beautiful children and their perfect long eyelashes and their little eyes that watch every single thing you do instead of scrolling your phone. Do something hard. Engage them. Remember to intentionally pray with and for them.

I could have stopped there. What a fantastic challenge. But then we got a phonecall.

Through a series of events, there was a little boy who needed a home. And a mama who would stop and look at his eyelashes and watch his little eyes take in the world. He needed a dad who would take him “huntin’” (don’t even get him started on his perceived need for a knife at the tender age of 3 in order to hunt small game), and who would teach him how to show love and respect.

So here we are somewhere in the process of adopting a little guy. We don’t have any details. But we covet your prayers. Seriously. Please pray with us.

I know that this seems like a very hard thing. I already have two tiny needy people that depend on me around the clock. Adding a third will be very, very, very, hard. But then there’s the voice reminding me that hard is not bad.

Do something hard, mama.

Doing hard things reminds us that our strength is not our own. It reminds us that when we are fearful and unsure, He is faithful.

Obviously, most people won’t be getting life-changing phone calls today, but we are all charged to do hard things. Lets rise up to our challenge and draw our strength from Him.

There’s so much more I could write and so many more lessons I’ve already learned… I guess those posts are forthcoming. For now, here is how you can pray with us:

- Pray that the Lord would provide a bigger place for us to live. We currently have two bedrooms and the baby sleeps a few feet away from my face. It’s not going to work for my sleep-deprived lifestyle to have another roommate.

- Pray that our new guy would continue bonding with our other children during their play times.

- Pray that we would have wisdom and endurance to meet each challenge with grace as it comes.

Thank you, friends!

P.S. Don’t make fun of me if you see me running. In fact… never mention it… we shall never speak of my pace in public.