A lesson learned from Toy Story

Andy stopped by Bonnie's on his way to college to give her his most prized toys.   Woody, Buzz, and the rest of the gang deserved a loving new home where Andy was sure they would be played with with the best of care.  At one time they had been his best friends.



We had watched the first two of them for the umpteenth time and were finishing up number 3.  As I sat with my babies, sobbing my eyes out over a dang cartoon, I was seeing a whole new meaning behind the story.  It was making 'real life' sense to me.  One day I would have an Andy and a Bonnie.  And my Andy would grow up and move to college.  Never needing those blasted toys again.  The ones I pick up 79 times a day.  Those guns that are full of sand.  Those trucks and bulldozers and backhoes.  Those legos that I know could inflict more pain than a stab wound when stepped on barefoot.   My little Bonnie will grow up too.  She won't be wanting those baby dolls and all their accessories.  Those books and  piles of 'business' stacked every where. Those bags of all kinds packed full of God only knows what all.  The ones we take to the ball park, the grocery store, school, the trampoline and the sandbox.  The ones we have a complete meltdown over if we leave behind even one. 



All of those things that on most days make me want to pull my hair out and run screaming through the streets.  Those quirky little things that make them who they are.  The parts of them that make them unique.  Those are the things that make them little---just how I like it.



I find myself so often huffing and puffing over the bags.  All the bags.  Calling her a bag lady.  Complaining about how she's such a hoarder.  Wondering who in the world will ever be able to live with her.  Rolling my eyes and laughing as she packs another plastic bag full of sand, quarters, and lipstick.



Complaining that he's 5 {very near 6!} and still wants his blanket to go. every. where. we. go.
Arguing that he doesn't need to take the bulldozer and backhoe to town just to run errands. 



Why do I care?  When something so small makes them so happy?  So secure. When they are delighted to make Mama happy by doing most anything she asks, why then do I hold back?  Why do I make something out of nothing?

Why do we try to change our children?   Why don't we trust that God knew what he was doing when he created them?  Why are we sometimes ashamed of who they are?  They are just exactly who God made them to be!  And who am I to want to change that?  Bags, blankets and all.  They were fearfully and wonderfully made.


Blessings,

When comparisons smash you like a truck

I'm not usually sure when it's going to strike.  It's kind of a sneaky little joker.  Creeping up in my heart.  In my thoughts.  Creating doubt, fear, bitterness, anger.  Making me question the goodness of God.  Doubting my role as a mother.  A wife.  Wondering if and when I'll ever get it all together and measure up.

Comparison....



It's seems to be creeping around all over the world wide web.  The internet can be such an ugly monster, shouting in your face and letting you know how you fall short.  Never telling the truth.  Never showing the ugly in other's lives, just the good.  It's a for sure place to see all the "success" of everyone else.  But rarely ever the real-life. 



Comparison is always a trap and it sucks the life right out of me. It's constantly nipping at my heels and barking out lies.

It tells me that my worth lies...

in how many children I have. 
in how well I manage my home.
in how good my housekeeping skills are.
in how well I dress.
in how skinny I am.
in how much money I do or don't make.
in how many titles I hold.
in how good I cook.
in how many days I attend church.
in how my children turn out.
in the success of my marriage.
in how well I can control my emotions.
in how I manage my time.

When the truth is my worth lies in who I am.  A child of the King.  Nothing more.  Nothing less.



Comparison makes me weak and weary.  Afraid to chase my dreams.  Too tired to hope.
It makes me doubt my calling.  It steals my joy.  It makes me feel less-than.

It even makes me sometimes wish things were different.  People were different.  I was different.  My life was different.  My children were different.  My husband was different.



It makes me forget that God has a perfect plan.  He knows my future and He holds it in His hands.  He is in control of tomorrow.  And I can have confidence in His loving plan.



But for now He has given me the present.  I am blessed with the here and now.  He loves me because I am His and He is mine.  I've been bought with a price.  A very high price.  The highest price.

When I look away from what I wish I had, and look around at what I do have, I find a one-of-a-kind-life crafted just for me.



We are all unique.



I write because I need to remember.  Otherwise I forget and fear takes chunks out of my dreams.

There's messy days and lovely days.  There's days full of arguments and fights.  There's days of sunshine and days of rain.  There's happy days and sad days.  There's stains on the carpet and stains on my heart.  There's days full of hope and days stolen by despair. 



Regardless of what day I find myself in, my value never changes. 

He cares about my dreams and my desires.  He knows my heart.  My name is graven on His hands.  My name is written on His heart.



This is my life.  And for now, I rejoice in today.



Blessings,