In a Hurting World

My door bell rang and I opened it to three wonderful little boys staring up at me. One was a sweet kiddo who I haven't seen in two years, since he moved to another part of town. The other two are brothers who live just two houses down.

"My brother got killed yesterday," one said.

Cars sped by, my own children were inside begging for snacks, our gigantic Lab burst out the door, and six pained eyes waited for my response.

Loss is prevalent, and I know this first hand. I work at a children psychiatric facility where I teach lots of broken youth, all whom have incredibly traumatic backgrounds. But nothing could have prepared me for this.

Two days before this, my husband and I heard the loud blare of sirens flying down our street. All the first responders couldn't get to where they were going fast enough--which was to the location where a teenage boy had just been shot and killed. We heard the tears coming from our sidewalks, middle school-aged children crying and loudly mourning. Later that night we quietly entered our son's room and sat on his floor; we didn't even know yet what had happened or who it involved, we just knew something was terribly wrong. In the morning when we learned of the age and incident, our hearts just sank.

The very next day while I was at work, text message alerts came to our phones that there had been a shooting in our neighborhood: One was dead, the other in critical condition. In the middle of broad daylight, two young men shot each other; the one killed was the half-brother to my little neighbor boys.

What do you DO when young hearts ring your doorbell and bear such heart wrenching news?

Amongst the three children outside my door, my own kids inside, and my husband who wasn't yet on his way home from work--I needed to be packing for Tennessee, where I was supposed to be headed very soon; my world froze for a moment and I looked in to the eyes before me. "I am so sorry, Guys," I quietly said. "I love you all SO much, please be safe this weekend." I gave them all giant hugs and closed the door, where my world, for the most part, would be un-phased.

But what about theirs?

The whole weekend I spent out of state, my heart constantly thought about these families. I prayed often, and I thanked God for keeping my own family safe amidst the crime. I drove home 48-hours later and shortly before I got off the exit for our house my phone rang. My husband said the Vigil was happening at the park and that our road was blocked off--"Let me know when you're close and I'll ask the police to let you through," he said. When I pulled up to the house, my eyes shifted to the park. I saw the neighborhood children, their sad and somber faces, and my husband kneeling beside our little ones trying to keep them quiet. How do you explain to them what was going on? How much is too much for them to know? Later that evening we walked in our bare feet to their house, carrying a vase full of fresh flowers. Flowers? I asked myself. Is flowers a terribly insensitive idea? I just wanted them to know how much I love them. 

The days continued to pass by, the boys always waved whenever they saw me. I was often greeted with warm hugs when I would pull up to the house or when they got home from school. We ordered them a pizza one night; a house full of kiddos and two hurting parents, I just wanted to be able to do something--anything.

Our two kids really didn't have a clue what was going on and at that point I was grateful. Explaining guns and violence to a three and four-year old just didn't seem pertitent. They probably thought we were just hanging out with friends at the Vigil and with the flowers, they assumed we were being nice neighbors. But flash forward a few months later, when my world was shaken even more... 

Trolling Facebook mindlessly one evening, my eyes did a double take at someone's post. It was the gal we actually purchased this home from; she had shared a blog post and some sweet words of her own about a woman from this neighborhood that had passed away a few days prior. I clicked on the blog post and slowly read paragraph after paragraph, not even knowing yet that I actually knew her. I exited the link and decided to click on the profile of the woman who had passed away and my eyes just flooded with tears. I let out a horrified gasp and dropped the phone. Honest to God, I felt like I was in shock. I wasn't close friends of the woman, but I had met her several times at the park while at the playground with my kids. She was with her six kids, she had a friend with her, and both were talking and chatting so carefree amongst all the chaos. My kids played with hers--pretend kitchen is what they were doing, making dirt pies and desserts from underneath the slides. I introduced myself and went home to tell my husband all about her. My mom too, on the phone, I bragged about this woman. "Oh she'll be a great contact for you to get to know when you take time off with the kids," she said. 

And now she's gone.

I don't know many details, except that she passed in her sleep. She has six children, three whom are adopted, and she homeschooled all of them. It was clear when I met her that she was a Believer, and while I should be assured that she is resting now with her Savior, I'm just not. At all.  

I've prayed for her family daily, often multiple times a day. I sobbed uncontrollably after realizing who she was and thinking about how young, how much more life here on Earth she 'should have had.' It's not my place, right? To think something like that. None of us know the hour or the day of which we'll be called Home to our Creator, but six sweet children and a husband woke to their wonderful mom and wife, gone. Thinking about it honestly kind of haunts me, I have done the "what if" in my mind; what would my kids do? How would my husband react? Who would he call first? WHY would Jesus allow this to happen? I walked through the park with my kids last week and we passed her house. The dog was barking in the backyard and tears again immediately flooded my eyes. 

I was alone with the kids and quietly asked, "Hey, Guys. Mama wants to pray. Is that okay? I just want to pray for the family who lives in that house." My 4-year old immediately said, "Why, Mom? Are you afraid they're going to die?" How he was that intuitive or immediately came to that concern is beyond me? But he continued to ask over and over and I felt like I was going to snap. I felt like I would be lying if I beat around the bush and avoided the question, so I answered honestly. "You know what, Buddy...? There are a lot of kids who live there and their mommy actually did die." Of course this brought a series of questions and a little bit of concern from my young son who cannot grasp the concept of death or his mommy no longer being here. And once again, my heart just broke. My son can't process it or understand, so how are her children doing? 

The world is still spinning around and around, construction workers still working, basketball players playing ball on the courts, little kids riding their bikes... but a household is without their mother. A husband without his wife. 

And the same for my neighbors... the world has continued to survive without their sweet boy; homework and school and sports and family dinners. But a giant piece of their heart is still missing. And what do we do about that?

Friends, I'm just immensely shaken. There is so much pain and hurt and suffering in this world. There are babies without their parents and parents without their babies. I don't have a solid answer on how to fix it and I know it's not my job to. But will you just pray with me? For the lives and hearts of Gods' children who all just need HIM to show up for them? To be their shoulder, their voice, their comfort, their song. It's times like this that I often begin to doubt the goodness of my Father, but I am fighting hard to hear Him through the tears. And the days for these families will be so much brighter if we can be in this together. Stand with me, pray with me, and remember that everyone, everywhere, is dealing with some hardship, so let's just LOVE.

Dear Daughter: You Are More than Locker Room Talk

Reese, 

You are beautiful, Darling. But that isn't all. Your gorgeous curly, naturally highlighted hair, it falls softly around your sweet face. You have the prettiest hazel eyes that are so big and round, expression and emotion just oozes out of them whenever you look at anyone. But these things don't define you. It isn't simply your natural beauty that makes you lovable or that draws people to your personality. And I pray that you will grow up in a world that believes this to be true of all women. Not just of you. 

I hope to God that you won't be raised in a world where your leadership thinks that you will only move up the ladder of success because of the way you look. Darling, you are an Adventurer. You hike trails and run down their hills and often you fall down. You may cry momentarily but you always get right back up and keep on running. What you want, you go for and what you go for, you get. 
 

You are daring and so incredibly smart. You know every single word of Fight Song and I thank God often that you have an amazingly supportive uncle who thought of you and I one day when he had heard it. "Listen to Fight Song," he said. "I really believe it's yours and Reese's song." That's the kind of leader that I hope will believe in not just us, but all women. "You might only have one match but you can make an explosion. This IS your fight song. You ARE alright. Your power is on, you are strong, your Fight Song is playing. And even if no one else believes, you have a fight to be heard." Those song lyrics were written for you, Baby Girl. And I am praying diligently that you won't grow up in a world, in a country, a FREE country, that screams at you otherwise.

 Oh young daughter of mine, someday, YOU might decide to get married and have your own babies, but I want you to know that you weren't created to ever be LESS than your husband. You'll change lots of diapers, but that won't be your job. And I hope that America won't be preaching from our pulpit that those are the types of things that women are supposed to do. And on that note, I hope that we aren't being led by someone who is repulsed by all things breastfeeding; who has actually called females "disgusting" for needing to pump while at work to provide for their babies. Reese, you are strong and capable--you can have a baby or not have a baby, but don't ever let the world, our world, take your voice away from you. 

No matter how loud the moron, no matter how big hatred and bigotry grows, I hope YOU know how truly breathtaking you are. I hope that YOU can be sure of yourself, and that you will believe how great YOU are. No matter WHAT the world throws at you throughout these next many years, may the Universe always marvel at your magnificence. 

You are far more than locker room talk.

Smile! [An Honest "Mom Life" Review for Smile Brilliant]

My Grandma started me on coffee YOUNG... like seriously, I'm pretty sure I was five when I fell in love with it. I've always been a 'one cup a day' gal, until mom life hit, and boy did it hit HARD. I went from drinking one cup of coffee a day to, well, several... Two babies fifteen months apart from each other, so duh! Tired has been my middle name for over three years now and though it was starting to show on my once pretty white teeth, I really didn't feel like I had the time or energy (or money!) to keep using regular whitening strips. Plus, I never liked the feel or texture of them on my teeth and gums. So, it all kind of slipped my mind for a while until BOOM! Smile Brilliant reached out to me. 

This company has completely changed my at-home whitening game and the getting started process was SO easy. They offered me a custom whitening tray to fit my teeth [goodbye, sliding- all-over- strips!], and once I got my pair in the mail, I was pumped to give this system a try. 

I just filled my molds with the Whitening Gel and the first couple of days, just left it on for thirty minutes. Then I rinsed and did the Desensitizing Gel for fifteen minutes to help re-hydrate my mouth. I brushed my teeth and seriously within two sessions, my teeth were SO much whiter! [It's up to the user, you can leave these trays on for thirty minutes for up to two hours should you choose, I have done forty-five minutes three days a week [for three weeks] and am absolutely thrilled with my results. Especially if you have sensitive gums, just use the Desensitizing Gel immediately following whitening; I never experienced any soreness or sensitivity after my sessions, probably huge thanks to this. 

It really was as simple as filling the trays with the Gel, and I usually did this at night after the kiddos went down for bed. I can sit at my desk and edit photos or write without being bothered by the trays at all. I usually set a timer and then applied the Desensitizing Gel and I was good for the night!

I really believe that this Smile Brilliant system is so much more effective (cost and time wise) than any other whitening system and it's WAY less expensive than going to the Dentist! Prior to Smile Brilliant, a custom fitting tray was only available at the Dentist and those are on average, 500 plus dollars! Moms or NOT, there's no way this will disappoint you. This kit appeals to ANY coffee drinker, wine lover, whiter-teeth seeker, period.

If you want some more facts and other peoples' reviews, check out Smile Brilliant's Review Page. You can also watch a video on how the whole thing works HERE.

And lucky for YOU, I'm hosting a giveaway for one lucky reader. The prize is a $139.95 store credit which is equal to the Teeth Whitening Trays + 3 Whitening Gel syringes and 3 Desensitizing Gel syringes. OR the Teeth Whitening Trays + 6 Whitening Gel syringes. Make sure you enter for this AMAZING deal so you can get started ASAP! (Click HERE!)

Thanks so much, Smile Brilliant, for sponsoring this post and for the truly awesome whitening kit! 
 

Let Go

The moment you as a mother realize that your child is really and truly no longer a baby, well, that's not anything that you can plan for. You don't know when or where or how it will dawn on you, until it does; a gust of wind escapes your lungs and you are suddenly made aware.

We tried to get pregnant for a few months and we were very blessed that the timing with our son was perfectly spot on. The faint blue lines, the ones that made me ask my sister-in-law to please come over and check for me, those little sign told me, "You are going to be a mother." For nine months I watched my belly grow, I felt the kicks and squirms and sharp elbow jabs deep in my rib cage. I saw him somersault and hiccup and while he was tucked inside my ever-growing stomach, I had no idea that someday he would say to me, "Mom, let go!" 

Towards the end, if he stopped moving or was quiet late at night, I would anxiously wake my husband and ask him to please pray aloud that God would give me a sign that our baby was okay. It always worked and within seconds, our dear boy would move or roll over again, probably thinking, "Would you people leave me ALONE?"

From the very beginning, my heart was his. Crawling and the first steps, the first taste of solid food, the baby giggles that turned to laughter, the one word phrases that made us smile so big... I never realized that during those growth spurts, those stages of transitioning from baby to boy, my heart would just keep expanding. And that suddenly, the wind would be knocked out of my chest as he jumped into the in-ground pool, without a life vest, as he shouted, "Do it again!" As quickly as it started, those baby years and all the things that come with them, it suddenly ended--

those baby years.  

Over. Gone. A flash before my eyes. A faint dream that grasps for the memories and moments when he needed me the most. 

Who is this kid? And how did it happen? My hands frantically reached for him under the water, quickly I pulled him up for air thinking that of course, he would need it. But he didn't. He didn't need me and what I thought was him choking was actually just laughter. "Mom, let go!" he exclaimed as he swam one end to the other, down and back, doggy paddling around and around and around--

without me. 

I remember the first time he got into a pool. He was a month old and he just slept, totally peacefully, as we slowly pushed him around on a float. And then when he got in my parents pool, and he would wrap his arms around my neck as I sang him songs. From zero, to one, to two, to three, and now to four. His legs are getting so long, his length makes up more than half of me. His weight is hard for me to lift from his carseat, it's getting more difficult to carry him up the stairs. My hips that carried him with ease for so long, are quickly reminding me that it won't be much longer that he will fit there.

Everyone tells you that it happens so fast but when you're in the trenches of motherhood, tired and going on very little sleep, when they're still so tiny in front of you, all you think is, "Shut it, Lady. I'm embracing it the best that I can." Or at least, I suppose that's what I always used to think, when elderly people walked past my screaming toddlers as I sprinted through aisles at the grocery store. 

His daddy is 6'4'' and with me only 5'2,'' it's very obvious my son (and probably daughter) will tower over me very soon. So right now, while he still [awkwardly] fits on my hip and he still begs for me each night to put him to bed, I will embrace these days. Even if he doesn't want his mama to carry him like a baby around his grandparents swimming pool, at least he does still want me to stand on the sideline cheering, "Good BOY! Great job!" as he makes that giant splash. While I'm positive there will many more opportunities for him to declare his independence, my heart will never ever, no matter what, be letting go.