Gloppy Joy

Sometimes, you just gotta let go and get gloppy.

Beautiful day outside, scratch that, oh my goodness amazing day in May for this desert dweller.   Grabbing the joy and smashing it in our schedule, we pulled out the art table.  Literally.

Pulled it outside.  Plum filled it with every art medium we could find (washable art medium, I'm zany, not crazy).  And for the day we filled pictures.

Of course, we started with finger paint.  Yep I'm 37 and madly adore wiggling my index in finger paint.  When I'm 97, I'll still be giggling with gloppy fingers.

Squishing the paint.  Mixing the colors.  You cannot help but let go.  A picture will never turn out perfect.  It's not the perfection you are aiming for.  Its the joy in creating.

Wham.  Think the ahaaaa moment, sitting there with green and blue finger tips.  Momma, it's not perfection in raising you kids that you should be aiming for.  Its the joy in creating.

Maybe I need to get the finger paints out more often.  Maybe my kids need a momma that leaves paint all over their lives, gloppy finger painting joy.


Would you consider joining me today?  I would be honored.  I'm on a mom  journey to be refreshed, renewed, and rejuvenated.  And I could use you.  Your nuggets of wisdom.  Your failures turned glory.  Your story of anything mom.  A chorus.  A momma melody.

To join the melody, simply add your post (a new or old fave) to the link a thingie.

PlayDoh Discipleship

oozing love and splattering joy as hands shape globs of colors into creations  

Our foster experience has been one of the most adventurous journeys we have yet to experience as a family.  Learning to love unconditionally, both children and hurting biological parents, living out the gospel in our home, opening every aspect of our lives to be somehow used for His glory ... amazing training.

Honest here, this is hard.  We have loved on kids for years, all over the world, in some crazy hard places.  On the mission field, inner city classrooms, AIDS orphanages, churches, tribal village huts ...  Kids = my passion.  

We have always believed that family is the most radical form of discipleship. Now we have the opportunity to live it.   Each and every day, we see little lives being shaped by His love.  Bumps smoothed out, in their lives and mine.

Like play doh.  Playdoh discipleship.

Splash Happy Momma

Please, before I even begin ... l've got a bit of explaining to do.   By no means am I an expert at being momma.  Yeah, for 11 years the term has been used to describe me.  In all reality, the kids had no choice.  Mommy, mom, kee-mama-saa-bee, names I took on simply because I had kids.

So when I share, it's not in the expert category at all.  Honestly, its more of "Oh my goodness, how did I not know this before" revelation that I sprawl in my notebook and type up.

In terms of swimming, not in the olympic category.  More in the, wading pool.  A momma getting so excited with a new nugget of goodness, she starts splashing around.  A splash happy momma.

This week, going to splash you with this.   Try and say yes.

Wabamm ... tidal wave momma splash right at you.  Well, maybe not for you.  (remember, I'm in the wading pool as a splash happy momma).   Try and say yes.

Little tidbit changing the grumpy into happy around here.

When asked for something, to do, to try, to taste, to create, to jump off of ... Try and say yes momma lady.   Because sometimes, I get plum stuck in the muck of no.

Always saying no.  No, because it will cost me time.  No, because it could make a mess,   No, because, because, because.  Pretty sure saying no makes little memories.  Hoping the yes will make moments  to remember.

Well at least they will remember this happy momma, splashing in the wading pool.

Sometimes, Momma Misses

Sometimes, a momma misses it.  Today, think shooting for a target on a hay bail.  Aim, and the arrows flies hundreds of yards over the hay bale.  Missed it.  Missed it by more than far.

What do you do when you miss it?  Really.  Straight up real.  You cry.  You ask forgiveness.  You rejoice in grace.  You pick up another arrow and aim.

As mom, you have to.  To keep at it.  To keep persevering in this adventure of being called mom.

After my kids lavished me in grace, I picked up the arrow of mommaness once again.  Studying it, the tip had gone blunt.  The feathers worn by weariness and perfection seeking.  Realizing it was time, to learn more, to go after it, this life of mom.

All art forms require practice, study, time to learn the technique.  Archery, much the same.  No one expects to hit a bulls eye every time without learning a few things.  My life as mom, much the same.

Learning time, sharpening my arrows, aiming for the target ... of being the best Mom.  My kids deserve the best.

So if you see a few arrows whiz by, just smile.   Sometimes momma misses.

Spunk Splattered Hunting

Anyone can hunt during the day ...

Zany mom on the adventure trek to enjoy her kids, celebrates with a bit of spunk splattered hunting.

Imagine a day filled to bursting with celebrations of a Risen Jesus!  Somewhere between brushing their teeth and tucking the littles in bed, an idea laced with fun popped in my busy schedule.

I clamored to stuff the eggs with a mountain of loose change.  Secret sleuth Sarah hid all of the eggs outside in the dark.  Sometimes I wonder what my sweet kids will think of me when they are all grown up.

Jammies on.  Prayers.  Foot rubs.  I posted a note on the boys' door.  Tapped it and walked out of the room.  I heard their feet thump off the bunk bed, listened through the door as they read  ...

Happy Easter my boyz!
So you think the celebration is over?
Well my boyz, think again.

Celebrating Jesus and all He's done.
No way to limit all the zany fun.
Jesus came to earth to shine God's light!
Grab your shoes ...
              egg hunt at night.

He came to set us free.
He paid for us the cost.
To save us from our sin.
To GO and reach the lost.

Now you carry it,
His love and His light.
Into a dark world,
bold warriors ...
           go and fight!

(written in like a minute as the last one brushed his teeth ... God is so crazy good when we just go with it and grab the moment).

They opened the door with priceless 8 and 11 year old grins.  I had two flashlights.  Dad's mega mag light that illuminates the room and a simple finger flashlight that lights up your finger.  We talked about which one they would want to use for the real hunt.  We talked about the real LIGHT of the world and shining crazy bright for him.

They grabbed their shoes.  They made a plan.  To work TOGETHER to find all of the eggs.  Imagine!  An egg hunt with no competition.  Brothers side by side.  Teachable moment seized.

One step outside into the black.   A quick flash across the yard and they exclaimed ... they are everywhere.  They laughed.  They hunted.  They found them all.  They counted their treasure piled high.

We talked about the real treasure in the world, people.  We talked about Jesus and how He came not just to bring us LIGHT but so we could share HIS light with the dark world.  And we plum created a new Easter tradition.

Egg hunt at night.  Bring it.

When Jesus spoke again to the people, he said, "I am the light of the world.  Whoever follows me will never walk in darkness, but will have the light of life."  - John 8:12