If you are new around these parts, you likely don’t know that I sort of drop off the blogging sphere every once in a while. Sometimes I just feel *so* overwhelmed, keeping my house tidy, keeping my kids fed, keeping myself sane, keeping my fridge stocked, keeping my blog updated, that I end up going on hiatus for a few days (sometimes longer).
‘Cuz I just can’t hang.
I wrote last week about Lent coming up on Feb. 22 and that I felt like God was calling me to do something that really made me uncomfortable. Not in a scary way, but it was definitely a challenge, that I clearly heard I’d be able to manage it with His power behind me.
The purpose of giving something up for Lent is to grow closer to God. I know that my kids are gifts that have been entrusted to me, and I feel God smiling when I am *happy* to be caring for them! I can see His face when I read to my kids. I can see His face when I drop everything to tend to them. I can see His face when I watch them sleep (It’s not creepy until they’ve moved out). I can see Him in my kids… if I let myself.
So, when Middle says to me on a daily basis, “Mommy. Put your phone down so we can play”, I see His face, feeling ignored. Feeling second-fiddle. Feeling lonely.
And that’s my challenge from God. Put my phone away. Be present.
This past week, I have been more connected with my kids. I’ve felt more focused at home, instead of constantly refreshing Facebook in an obsessive manner. I’ve gardened a little. I’ve cooked a little. I’ve grocery shopped a little. I’ve taken “teaching moments” seriously with my kids, especially Big. I’m loving talking with her about one challenge that arises or another, from Middle taking her special notebook to praying for Bad People (I was able to connect Mother Goethel from Tangled in!). She’s starting to *get it*, and it’s up to me (and her daddy) to raise her in the way she should go.
I’ve decided to not give up all Internet for Lent, because, honestly, I get a great sense of connection writing out my thoughts on this blog. But that pesky phone? It’ll be in a closet when I come in the house.
And I’m scared $%*less I’ll fail.