Just Random

December 6, 2012 Lindsey P. BrackettLeave a comment

I just want you all to know that I blog all day long. When I’m washing dishes, folding baby socks, changing diapers, concocting recipes, driving school pickup, wondering for the thousandth time how toothpaste got there…..I’m blogging. It’s just all that steady stream of consciousness that sounds so great in my head but rarely makes it to here.

I want to tell you about the awesome enchiladas I made tonight. I want to write about how Amelia told me today she was talking to God “about how Him filled up all the water.” (It was raining.) I want to share Santa’s phone number with you. Annabelle told me it was 040404 because when you type that on the a calculator and turn it upside down it says “hohoho.” I want to get some feedback on what I should really consider for Madelynne’s Christmas since she’s asked for everything from a horse to an ipad to legos to a diary. Of course, those first two are out.

But it’s late in this up-twice-or-more-a-night mama’s world and I’m on sub duty tomorrow because dance lessons don’t pay for themselves and the baby might have just cried himself to sleep.

Pictures soon. Recipes soon. Less rambling soon.

Maybe.

It Happens Every Year

December 3, 2012September 30, 2015 Lindsey P. Brackett4 Comments

It’s December and Christmas is in full swing around here. Which means we have a tree shedding on the carpet because there’s nowhere to put it except right next to the vent and this mom had her annual decorating meltdown.

Every year, folks. Every year I say I’m going to hold it together and get over my perfectionist tendencies and my insecurities about our home and our faded, hand-me-down decorations and I’m just going to enjoy my children and the magic of the season.

And every year I get uptight and irritated and pathetic about where to hang the DecemBear calendar from Joshua’s childhood, how to make the manger scene more focal, what color lights to put on the tree. Every year I whisper that nagging little sinful thought–

If God would just give me a bigger house, I’d be able to have a better Christmas.

We could have a bigger tree then and hang all the ornaments we want.

There could be a basement or a playroom for the kids to decorate so I can keep everything else nice and pretty and worthy of compliment.

If we had a dining room, I could set out my china and use it and enjoy it and there could be glass candlesticks and table runners and poinsettias in a sleigh.

The problem is, if we had a bigger house, I’d probably be an even bigger jerk. Because then I really wouldn’t want my kids to mess up all my pretty things and my husband to have an opinion about lights or centerpieces or seasonal towels. Which probably means that in the end, I’d manage to hurt everyone I love in my quest to have something tangible and temporary that I think would make me happy.

And I forget that God truly does want good things for me, He does want me to be happy, He does want my delight. He just wants it to be in Him first.

Do you know what Jesus’s first miracle was? He turned the water into wine. A wedding feast was about to run dry and He touched the water. He made it better. It wasn’t a need. People would have survived without more wine. But He did it anyway because He delights in giving us good things, delightful, wonderful, lovely things that remind us we are loved.

We took a break after that little hissy fit of mine. The girls and I gathered around the table, shoved decorations to one end and ate pb&j and chips and salsa and cereal and talked about Christmas and why it’s hard for me to believe that all this is enough because everywhere else there seems to be so much more.

They probably think their mommy is crazy. They love what we have. They set out snowmen and rang jingle bells and unboxed the bear who reads ‘Twas the Night Before Christmas and then they read all the other Christmas books and Gus shrieked at us to pay attention to him while we hung ornaments on our tree that all have a story.

God is breaking my heart over and over right now until I get the message that this. is. enough. That I don’t need more things, I need more Him, I need more grace, I need more love.

Create in me a pure heart, O God, and restore to me the joy of your salvation…Psalm 51:12

Tell me how you’re making joy happen this year? Not about your pinterest craft or your new wreath or your perfectly iced cookies, but how you are finding joy in all the little moments and meltdowns.

We are doing this.

Come back tomorrow? I’m hoping to post some pictures or our sweet tree and these beautiful faces.

Friday Five · reflections

I Wonder {5 Min Friday}

November 30, 2012 Lindsey P. Brackett3 Comments

I’m joining with Lisa-Jo and so many others today to celebrate the last 5 Minute Friday of the year. So here it is, five whole minutes of raw writing.

Wonder….

I wonder if Mary ever got frustrated. If she had swollen ankles and if her hair fell out when Jesus was about five months old and if she worried that his teeth were never ever going to work their way through those swollen gums.

I wonder how she stood the whispers and the taunts and the stares and how she made peace with this plan. What happened really in that empty space between an angel’s declaration and this girl’s submission?

I wonder if she ever felt ready to be a mom.

And all those four times I lay in a hospital bed in a sterile environment with IV fluids and epidurals and nurses and ice chips, I wondered about giving birth in a stable. I wondered about the mess and the pain and the sweat and the tears and how she did it.

I wasn’t even strong enough to handle the unexpected after ten years of marriage and three other babies. I caved to the fear.

Maybe it was the absence of all we think we need now. Maybe it was the stillness. Maybe it was the raw, barren, homeliness of the stable gave her strength. Because maybe there was nothing else to do but delight in the wonder of her child.

Christmas · motherhood

Why There’s No Elf on My Shelf

November 27, 2012December 3, 2015 Lindsey P. Brackett2 Comments

Pulled this from the archives to link up with Kristen at Works for Me Wednesday. Do you know Kristen? She’s the heart behind Mercy House and a genuinely beautiful person inside and out. I didn’t actually get to meet her at Allume, but I saw her around and I promise, she’s just as genuine as she seems.

So after this post by Lisa-Jo, I must not be the only one who’s feeling already a little overwhelmed by Christmas. It’s all good intentions and high expectations and glorious traditions that send me into a downward spiral this time of year.

Of course, now I have to add Pinterest and Facebook and bombardments of snail mail gift-order catalogs and parenting magazines filled with ideas for perfect holiday togetherness (getting along with the in-laws!) to the mix, and I start to actually feel a little bit guilty about not giving my kids the same Christmas everyone else is having.

Seriously?

Because I truly want to believe that Christmas can be simple and extraordinary at the same time. I want to believe that magic happens when we least expect it, least plan it, least look for it….like on a starry night in a little town inside a manger of hay.

I want to celebrate Christ and family and all the good things of life. Like having enough spare change sometimes for a latte. Like my children having four great-grandparents who adore them despite the mess. Like discovering great coupon deals on stuff I can give away to those who need more than I ever will.

I posted on facebook today:

So are we negligent parents because there’s no elf at our house? I’m not opposed to the elf, just the $25 it takes to buy it…

because all the pictures I saw this morning showed all these elves up to various mischief in everyone else’s house.

Stop. I’m comparing myself to everyone else. Again.

Want to know what happened in my house this morning? Joshua went to work super early. He set the alarm and made the coffee before he left. I love him. I made Pillsbury orange sweet rolls straight out of the can for my girls. They got dressed, no fuss, because for two days in a row, we’ve remembered to set out clothes the night before. I had to wake Gus up. That never happens. He slept from 9-2 and from 2:45-7:30. That, my friends, is a Christmas miracle. We loaded up the peeling paint Odyssey. We were on time (barely) for school. I came back home and put snotty Amelia on the couch and nursed the baby and uploaded pics like this to Shutterfly.

It was nothing spectacular, but I’m betting there are plenty of you out there who wish that had been your morning. Plenty of you who, like me, are constantly comparing and feeling that you fall short in some area of parenting, or decorating, or joy-giving.

Don’t. Maybe this season we could celebrate our Savior and we could celebrate each other? Because chances are something you’re doing, that you don’t think is all that spectacular, is probably pretty awesome when shared with others.

And just for fun…here are some of my favorite responses to that facebook post:

Yes, most definitely. When I see your 4 beautiful, happy, well-loved children…. I think to myself, wow, they must have negligent parents… I bet they don’t even have an Elf on the Shelf. Those poor children 😉

Forget the kids! What about me? We never had an elf growing up and it is clear that is the source of all my adult short comings. On the other hand, I think it might have just caused nightmares when I was little. At any rate, maybe we can start a “no elf” parenting club.

No elf at our house. I would ruin the entire experience by forgetting to move it, etc. Lol. I keep telling myself that my kids are too old. That makes me feel better.

Good Lord Lindsey that is ALL we need, one more little person making messes around the house!

Why add one more thing to Christmas chaos? We all survived without a stupid elf in our houses. That’s my thought.

We don’t have one here. I agree with Jaime though you’re clearly a negligent parent…4 kids, dressed & fed. Not enough…add something else to your duties

See? from others’ perspectives, I’m doing just fine. I bet you are, too.