5 Ways to Love Your Kids When You're Running on Empty

My son, Caleb, has a new way of telling us how tired he is. He gives us a percentage.
“Mom, my legs are 35%, ” he declares in the middle of downtown Atlanta on vacation.
“Mom, my legs are 8%,” he warns in the line at the grocery store.
“0%. No power,“ he calmly states as he wilts into the ground at Sam’s Club.”

And when I see him there, a part of me thinks, “Me too, buddy. Me too.”

0%. No power.

I so want to love my children like my battery is at 100% all the time, but I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how in the world that could happen.

My mom did it. She managed to create an atmosphere of love and care in our home when she had to have been at 0% a time or two herself. Even now, my mom is still doing everything she can to remind me of how loved I am.

In a few days, it will be my birthday. My mom is a master of birthdays and holidays. She makes me feel like I’m are the only important person in the world. She tells me what she loves about me. She sends me thoughtful gifts. She asks to spend time with me, but she doesn’t demand my attention. She calls me and texts me and reminds my siblings to call and text.  And those are just what I get when I’m a thirty-five-year-old adult living states away.

My mom’s example is sometimes overwhelming to me. How did she find time to love us so well even one day a year? How did she do it day after day after day? How did she find the strength to pursue us when we pulled away, to listen to us when we weren’t making any sense, and to do just the right thing we needed it?

After reflecting a little myself, I think I’ve figured out how my mom loved me when I know her batteries were running low:

She listened. When chatter spilled from my mouth about friends and people and ideas and activities, she always made me feel like my story was interesting and important. She asked follow-up questions, made understanding faces, and stopped what she was doing to hear me.

She included me in her world. Whether it was a trip to the grocery store or a stop by the Dairy Queen, my mom always invited me and my siblings to come. Sometimes she made us go with her when we didn’t want to, but even though we were mad, there was something about being wanted and valued that made us feel important, and we never knew when a trip to the grocery store and a trip to Dairy Queen might be one and the same.

She told me. My mom was great at telling us she loved us, at praising us for our efforts and for our character. She noticed what I did and told me about it. I felt noticed and affirmed and loved.

She thought about me. My parents would often come home from a date night or a trip or an errand with an extra treat for us. Something about the way mom said, “ I bought those chips you like” sounded to me like, “I love you and know what you like and went out of my way to make sure you know that I was thinking of you today.” For all I know, chips were on her list, but it felt special to me.

She forgave me. I had a bit of a temper growing up. I can be direct. I am not the sensitive and thoughtful woman that my mom is. But every time I stepped out of bounds, my mom forgave me, most of the time before I asked. “There’s nothing you can do to make me stop loving you, but I love you too much to let you act this way,” she would say.

In our material society, loving our kids sometimes feels like so many tasks: making them elaborate Valentine’s boxes and taking them to the zoo and feeding them homemade bread and doing and planning and performing. These things drain my battery all the way to 0%.

But listening doesn’t cost anything, and bringing my son Nathan along to Sam’s Club to get frozen yogurt and have a conversation about nothing doesn’t take any extra time. Telling Isaac that I love it when he smiles and gives me a thumbs up or making sure Caleb’s burger has pickles on it—just the way he likes it—doesn’t take too much energy.

Letting my kids know that nothing they can do will stop me from loving them fills all of us with the energy we need to face a new day.
It’s not the elaborate tasks that charge our batteries. It’s the simple and consistent ones.

Originally written by Laura Wailes for Mothering Beyond Expectations.

In the Middle of the Weeds

“I picked this for you, Mom,” my 11-year-old said and I stared at her with a look of both confusion over and gratitude for this sweet act of love.

“Thank you! Where did you find such a beautiful flower?” I asked her.

“In our yard!” she replied. “There’s a bunch of them growing by the tree in the backyard.” I looked, and sure enough she was right. A handful of irises growing right by the big tree.

And I’ve been thinking about that ever since, because whenever I’ve thought about our yard, all I’ve seen is the weeds, the patchy grass, the bumpy ground... and all the work that still needs to be done.

But right there, in the middle of all the weeds and mess, were beautiful, breathtaking flowers. And I’d never even SEEN them.

And isn’t that just the truth? That in the midst of the broken mess, when all we can see is weeds, and how much further we have left to go, God can grow flowers where we weren’t even looking? That there’s always something beautiful to be thankful for, if we just look close enough?

I know from experience that isn’t always easy to do, and when you’re IN IT, it’s the last thing you want to hear. What is there to be thankful for when I’m in this excruciating pain?

So I leave you with this, hold on, with whatever shred of faith you have left, that God is growing something beautiful in the middle of your weedy yard. You might not see it yet, but someday, you will.

Originally written and posted by Chelsey Roberts.

Soak Up the Dew

How do you recover after the worst kind of night? The hour after hour of sleep-eluding desperation followed by the morning light creeping in at the edges making you despise the very thing that’s ushering in the new mercies—the dawn.

The only way I know how to survive those sanity-killing nights (like the ones I’ve had lately) is to become a succulent—someone who can live off the dew.

Flood yourself with the scriptures when your brain is coherent and even when it isn’t, so that through the night and in the awful morning, you’ll have a heavy dew of truth to sustain you. Let even the mist and residue of God’s Word feed your soul.

This is warfare. We don’t read the Bible to feel like good Christians or to check it off the list or as a photo op. We do it because it’s our life and water and we don’t want to die of thirst.

There are a million things that you can fill yourself up with that will ultimately starve you. Junky movies, trivial books, shop therapy, shallow friendships, image building. But God’s word makes us impenetrable when we’re hidden in Christ. His holy people are his grace in our lives. So we soak up the dew and lean on his body and live.

Originally shared by Abigail Dodds.

A Wife of Valor

Recently I opened my Bible to Proverbs 31. As a female, this chapter is one very familiar to me. When I was 13 my mom sent me to a weekly Bible study for young ladies. As a tomboy who loved adventure and despised anything pink, a Proverbs 31 study brought to mind a neat orderly row of girls dressed in pink frilly dresses dutifully knitting socks while conversing in low tones. Turns out that picture was actually pretty accurate.

To attend, you had to wear a skirt or dress that was knee-length or longer (no pants or shorts allowed). Each week you had to memorize two verses of Proverbs 31, with the end goal of memorizing the whole chapter. Each week we learned a new skill: embroidery, cooking, sewing a pillowcase, and honestly I don’t remember what else, except that it had to do with becoming the model future wife and mother that Proverbs 31 supposedly dictated all little women should be. All I know is that it was the most boring time of my life (except for the snack break, that was the highlight for sure).

One week, as we sat in our skirts, embroidering roses on handkerchiefs, I mentioned in an exasperated tone how much I despised sewing (after pricking myself for the tenth time with the sewing needle). Fast forward to that afternoon, when my mom received a call from the study leader who basically said your daughter is being a bad example by saying she hates sewing, and we may have to ask her to leave if she doesn’t settle down and conform to the biblical image of femininity that we are trying to instill in these girls.

I admit my attitude was NOT where it should be. The heart behind that group was in the right place, and the leader genuinely cared about each and every student! I will also add that I was probably the only girl who didn’t enjoy everything, the others thought it was loads of fun.

But I have to be honest. That study ruined Proverbs 31 for me for many years. In my mind, that passage meant becoming a stagnant entity whose sole existence was to slave in the house and care for husband and children. The Proverbs 31 woman appeared to me as a passive behind-the-scenes person who didn’t really play an exciting role in the family unit. As a result, that scripture really fell off my radar as the years went by and I became an adult, a wife, and then a mother myself.

Until that day a few weeks ago when I opened up my Bible to that chapter and began to read.

Who can find a virtuous wife? For her worth is far above rubies.

Proverbs 31:10

I checked out the footnotes in my Bible for that verse, and it translated “virtuous wife” as lit. “wife of valor”. Hold up. Valor? I looked up the definition of valor.

Valor: strength of mind or spirit that enables a person to encounter danger with firmness: personal bravery….Great courage in the face of danger, especially battle.

Turns out the word valor comes from the Latin “valorem”, which means “strength, moral worth” with the sense of “courage” added later.

This changed everything for me. I saw Proverbs 31 in a completely different light! The image in my mind of the P31 woman was formerly of a diminutive, forlorn, forgotten individual who rarely thought for herself, deferred to her husband in all things, and modestly remained in the background of life.

Yet what comes to mind when I read, “Wife of valor”? I see a woman who holds down the frontlines at home. I see a woman who courageously fights for her family, who puts their well-being first and protects them no matter what. Who trains up her children to be warriors for Christ. A strong woman who doesn’t fall to pieces when hardships comes upon her family. A wife whose husband trusts and respects and goes to for advice. That is a woman I will gladly aspire to become!

So, I challenge you, weary soul in charge of the daily ins and outs of your household, read Proverbs 31 in a different light. Look for the character of the godly woman it describes, and picture her going about the various tasks of the day with courage, bravery, and strength of mind. God knows full well that being a mother requires those traits just as much as a soldier!

Let’s be a wife of valor most importantly for our husbands. My husband needs a wife who he can trust won’t crumble when the going gets rough. A wife who can be counted on to share the burden of raising a family. A wife he can come home to with anticipation, knowing that she will be there with arms open wide to greet him, no matter how the day went.

The heart of her husband safely trusts her; so he will have no lack of gain.

Proverbs 31:11

Learning about the wife of valor will be an ongoing lesson for me, one that humbles and convicts, but one that I am so thankful the Holy Spirit opened my eyes to. May it be an eye-opener for you as well, friend!

Written by Strength & Song Admin, Natalya Brown.