sons

The Makeup Bag Moment

/ Regina Walker / Leave a comment

Saturday rolled around and it was time to go pick up hubby. I was thrilled and I wanted to look nice. I’m down 9 pounds, and thought I’d do something other than the no makeup/messy bun/leggings look that I’ve been rocking for months. I’d try to look cute for him. So I got my jeans on, and a cute t-shirt, flipped my hair up out of the way and yanked open my makeup drawer.

It’s not actually an entire drawer of makeup, for those of you wondering. It’s just the drawer that held the few makeup items I had.

Had.

My precious, wild three year old had opened every tube of LipSense color, remover, gloss, poured out what she could, let the rest dry out. Okay, no lips. I’ll just do my powder and my eyes.

Mascara? Open, dried out. Eyeshadow? Covered in dried LipSense. Powder? Same as the eyeshadow. Even my eyeliner was broken to nothing.

Now, it’s been three years since I bought any makeup, and it’s been MONTHS since I wore any of it, but it was mine. In my drawer. In my bathroom. I thought the couple times she ran out with a little color smeared on her face was just nothing. I cleaned her up, and the closed drawer made me feel like all was right inside the drawer.

I completely lost it. I was crying, and chunking things in the trash, and I called my hubby and he seemed confused, a little like he couldn’t hear me, and a little like it didn’t matter anyway. But he pointed out I should have left already. More tears as I hung up the phone, now mad that he couldn’t see my problem for the problem it was.

I stormed around, angry and crying. My 6-year-old tried to comfort me, and even told me she would try to buy me new makeup. I turned to look at her and it hit me. I hit my knees and pulled my three littles close. I lost my peace over some makeup because of a million other things weighing on my heart. I kissed each of their sweet faces, helped the girls with their hair, and we went to get my husband.

I don’t care about makeup. While I can’t replace 15 tubes of LipSense, or even the other things I have right now, losing my peace over that moment was silly. It wasn’t the real issue brewing under the surface. I was forced to admit that the tears and ache had nothing to do with makeup.

It has to do with working out how robbed I feel of the dreams I had for the next few years with my two boys. Good things can also be hard things. As much as the peace of God has overwhelmed me through all of this, I still have so much processing that I’m working on.

It looks a little like this:

Did you know I am a curriculum nerd? I was so excited for the curriculum I was going to use with the boys this year. I thought it was going to be a great year.

Did you know I am getting to stay home for our school year? I had so many activities planned for the boys.

Our activities, places we would go, things we would see. It all sits in a basket in my mind, full of things that were going to be that never got to be.

It’s my least favorite brain basket. Sure, I have plans with the other kids and those haven’t changed, but they aren’t the plans I had with the boys.

So I lost my peace over a bag of makeup. I’m thankful I didn’t unpack and live there – not over the makeup, not the with the basket of undone things. I returned to God and asked Him to remind me why we are doing this, to remind me what He is doing, and why He calls us to surrender the hardest of things and let Him have the wheel.

Friend, what are you losing your peace over? Is it the real problem, or just an outlet for something else you need to deal with?

 

God’s Not Been Surprised

/ Regina Walker / Leave a comment

Here we are, 5 days past the boys leaving home. Through a series of events, I was persuaded to offer my 13-year-old the choice to go live at his dad’s. As I suspected, he jumped on the opportunity with an immediate and unwavering, “YES!”

My 12-year-old son wanted the same choice and while I was reluctant at first, I finally caved and gave him the choice. Without hesitation, he said, “YES!”

My thoughts battled back and forth over letting the boys choose, it was one of the hardest things I’ve faced. I submitted my thoughts to God in prayer, and I can’t tell you how thankful I am that we serve an involved God. He whispered to my heart so many precious things.

He walked me down memory lane – to a moment with a much younger me. I sat on the side of my bed, scared that I hadn’t gotten pregnant in a year, listening to the man I was married to remind me that we prayed we wouldn’t have a baby until we were ready and God had faithfully answered that prayer.

“Well I’m ready, I want to have a baby.” I declared.

So we prayed together to have a baby, and 6 weeks later I got a positive pregnancy test, and some months later, my firstborn son rested in my arms, content, round, and perfect.

The gentle voice of the Holy Spirit as we walked this path of memories reminded me that God has not been surprised by a single thing from the moment I held that pregnancy test, until today. Not the things in my life, my ex’s life, or our son’s life. None of it has surprised him.

Better still, as I questioned, as I wrestled, God knew all that was coming and He picked us to be the parents of two amazing young men. I was starting to see more clearly, but I can’t say I didn’t still want to argue. Yet the more I prayed, the more questions I asked, the more clarity I begged for, the more God pointed me toward this choice.

So Wednesday arrived in a rush, and the boys left on an airplane, and I teetered on the edge of peace that exceeds all understanding, and the abyss of human emotion and lost dreams.

Wednesday was also our first night back to Switch for the school year. I was enjoying the kids and other leaders and really not sure if I would keep volunteering on Wednesday night now that the boys were so far away and not in Switch anymore. Then worship happened. And as the band began to play, I felt the void at my side where my 12-year-old would stand and worship with me. It was our thing, every week. He would leave his friends and come worship with me. The tears started there and lasted through the end of the set.

Despite the flood of emotion, our good God was still whispering to me. Reminding me that we often see God first through our earthly father. Whether we get a great representation of who God is through our earthly father or a terrible one. God uses that to reconcile us to Him and to help us see Him. The boys experienced years of absence following some yucky choices their dad made. That time was excruciating for them. If God can use the reparation of their connection with their earthly father to reconcile them to Him, then I surrender my control. We don’t see God through our mom the same way we do through our dad.

I started to wrestle with this again and I wanted to start reminding God of everything that has occurred in the last 13 years, He asked me if I thought He couldn’t use all of it? Well no, that’s the case. I know He can. God often redeems our greatest pain for His greatest glory. May it be so in the lives of my children.

So here we are, 5 days in. So long as I take all of my concerns to the cross, I am met with a peace that I cannot describe. While several people have raised their eyebrows and I’ve been tempted to turn in His peace for my control, I’ve also been met with a great deal of encouragement. I’ve heard over and over how boys their ages need their dad during the next couple of years. I’m praying God uses this to grow and shape them into men who serve Him boldly, faithfully, and for their entire lives.

Until next time,
20190306_230806.png

Holding Space

/ Regina Walker / Leave a comment

I was first introduced to the idea of holding space in midwifery. It is said that midwives hold space for a woman to birth in a way that is natural to her. We all have different comforts, spots, positions, that help us mentally and emotionally as we bring forth a baby. I love this idea of holding space – near enough to assist, but not meddling, no unnecessary interference. With two perfect homebirths, that space was glorious, with a small scare on our third, the nearness was comfort and calm in the midst of chaos.

It doesn’t take but a second for the faces of the women who held space for me to come to mind. I remember them warmly and fondly. I am forever grateful for their presence in those huge moments in our life.

On a particularly hard day with my teenager, I heard Holy Spirit speak, “Hold space for him.” And like a bright revelation, and with words He knew my heart and mind would hear, I was able to slow down. I can’t tell you how many times in the last few weeks I’ve told myself, “Hold space, hold space.”

Close enough to keep them safe (even from themselves at time), enough space to let them sort it out, figure it out, make a way. See, parenting isn’t about it always being my way, imparting only my way to do things. It is about teaching them to navigate, be resourceful, solve problems, make decisions. And oftentimes, they make a decision we wouldn’t. They find a resource we overlooked. They solve the problem differently. Sometimes they take the hard way, but you know what? We once took the hard way ourselves. Maybe not in everything, but always in something. Someone with experience and years beyond our own probably can see with clarity how we are still taking the hard way – even if we don’t realize it yet.

More holding space, less imposing my will/my way for every second of the day. More room for emotions, thoughts, conversations, more room for them to explore and be and do. I’m close enough to keep them safe and guide them back toward honoring God and right living, but not breathing down their necks about every moment of the day.

Until next time,
20190306_230837.png

 

 

 

A Prayer to Share:

Dear God,

Please help us hold space for the people around us – our children, spouses, friends, and others you’ve sent into our lives. Help us remember that we don’t know the only right way to solve problems and get things done. Help us be slow to speak, slow to anger, and good listeners. Help us be a little more like Jesus today.

In Jesus’ Sweet Name,
Amen.