I haven’t decided what kind of mom I am yet. Which is sad, because I’m about to start emptying the nest, so the Big Family Years are coming to a close, and I still haven’t found myself yet, apparently. What kind of mom am I, anyway? I’m a soccer mom. And a music mom. A homeschool mom, a cooking-at-home mom, a coffee mom, and a thinking mom. I’m a mommy blogger, Target mom, and minivan mom. I am not a crafty mom. Just get that straight. I have been a working mom, a work-from-home mom, and a ministry mom (scars to prove it). But I just want to be an ordinary mom. Not the kind of mom you see on cable TV (really, people? THOSE are the real housewives of Dallas? Um, not from this perspective). Not the kind of mom you see in the movies (unless you are talking about Mom’s Night Out, thank you Patricia Heaton for nailing it once again!). Definitely not any of the moms you know on Pinterest! Seriously, I don’t do crafts!!! When …
No matter how many times I fail at the same half-dozen resolutions, I’m making them again this year.
Because I am convinced that working toward Christ-likeness in these areas is, indeed, God’s plan for my life. Giving up is not.
These things are humiliating. They both bring me, every day, face first into my flaws. It’s one thing to think about performing and to talk about writing a book. It’s another thing to pick up your instrument and let others hear your mistakes, to send a manuscript out for someone to count the errors.
It’s the ruined everyday I want to throw away.
I don’t see the beauty in childish interruption, teenage angst, sibling bickering, burned gluten-free toast, spilled almond milk creamer, or empty wallets. But I should. I’m just blind that way.
You did it today. You drove across the bridge — or avoided it altogether.
You protected yourself, your family, your children from harm.
You made the very ordinary choice to live another day.
And that ordinary choice has extraordinary impact.