Summers can about crush me. I love my kids. I love everything that they do. (Except when they do the things I don't want them to do.) I love everything they are...but at the end of the day, I rejoice when they're all in bed and everyone's asleep and the house is quiet. It's not about having the TV to myself or about the books I can read without interruption...it's about having a few minutes where I don't have to help someone with a project or play a game or get someone a glass of water.
 
I find myself clarifying that I'm not complaining. I'll say, “I'm not complaining, but my life is very full.” Being a mom of four kids is a lot of work and it doesn't matter if it's during the school year or if it's summer or if it's Christmas vacation. I've just come to the realization that regardless of which season I am in...my life is overflowing.
 
Maybe I would get along better if I stopped looking for things to slow down and embrace the season I am in. I find myself saying, “I can’t wait until school is out.” Summer finally arrives and I find myself saying, “I can’t wait for swim team to be over.” Then by the end of summer… “I can’t wait until they go back to school.”
 
I get caught in the never ending cycle of hoping that my current season will end and my job will be complete, but like the laundry… it is never finished. There is a lie somewhere deep down in my belief system that the next season will be quiet and peaceful and I will spend hours sipping expensive drinks beside my kid-free pool. In reality, my summers continue to be full of cannon balls, hand-stand contests, buying junk food at the snack shack, and endless pool bag packing.
 
When my children are grown, I know I will miss having these lovely beings around me. Their humor (and their scent) is something I can count on. Their endless questions and desire for conversations can make my ears hurt…but I love the fullness they bring to my home, my life, and my family.
 
There are times I do feel depleted, but the sacrifices I make for my family make me a better me. I am not the woman I was 16 years ago when I naively assumed a baby would fall in line with the rest of my organized life. Today I will tell you that parenting has messed with every plan and every detail I had mapped out and my life is so much better for it.
 
I compare myself to a fine wine…better with age.

I am not going to pretend that I tiptoe through my day, rarely breaking a sweat. I work hard and sweat often. (GROSS!) One day it will all change and it will seem like these years went by so fast. So for now, I am going to make peace with the season I am in and look for opportunities to love and grow my children into the young woman and men God desires.  
 
I am not complaining; my life is full. Yes, my life is wonderfully overflowing. ♥️

​I hate writing about things I have yet to obtain in my life. This area...Harmony & Peace, has not been an easy one for me. I was in college waiting tables the first time I recognized conflict came easier than peace. I got in a tiff with the bartender and the manager came over to me and said, “Why do you always have to look for a fight? Even when it is something dumb, you just can’t let it go.”

When I went back to my dorm that night, all I could think about was what my manager had said to me. I started to notice how often I felt justified to “speak my mind.” Often missing from both my speaking and my mind were any words of kindness. I could chew someone up and spit them out in under 3 minutes and I walked away proud of my ability to stand up for myself.

I grew up a fighter. I lived in a family of 5 kids. My dad was gone and my mom worked hard to support us. There were many afternoons we were left unguarded and the pecking order took effect. I often found myself in a word war, and sometimes a fist war, with one of my siblings. I can remember one fight my sister bit me so I punched her. When my mom got home from work that day, it did not go well for either one of us.

When Philip and I got married, he told me he wasn’t going to fight with me. I laughed and told him that everyone fights. He corrected me, “We will not fight.” I thought he was joking.

I can remember the first time I got really upset with Philip. It was over something completely stupid. It was so dumb I can’t even tell you because you will lose all respect for me. I will just say that he did something nice for me and I didn’t like how he did it so I wanted him to do it again…except my way. Dear night, I can’t believe I am even telling you that much!! To clarify; I would never get upset about this today. Philip put his hands on his hips and said, “I don’t know who you are going to fight with, but it isn’t me.”

I learned something huge that night...It is very difficult to fight by yourself.

God knew who and what I needed in my life. I needed to marry a man of peace in order to understand what I was missing. That first year was hard for me because Philip would not fight. I would say to him, “A good fight would clear the air.” He felt the exact opposite. He believed a good fight would leave a wedge that would separate and divide us. He was a much better person in this area than I was.

My journey towards harmony and peace has not been an easy one. It has taken me 20 years to narrow down which situations scream out to me the loudest. I am now quick to establish better boundaries that protect the vulnerable places of my heart. There is a reoccurring theme found among most of my moments of “freak-out-ness”. When I am hurt, my first response is anger. Instead of tears, I want to fight.

When I was a little girl, my dad would make fun of me if I cried. I would leave the dinner table crying and can remember him laughing. I am not sure when I stopped crying, but somewhere along the way…I just got mad. Being angry felt so much better than being sad. I refused to be the victim, so instead I became the victor. I don’t think anyone ever called me meek or gentle or kind or a pushover. I will leave to your imagination other words they may have used to describe me.

Then I married Philip and he told me I wasn’t going to be mad and that we were going to be happy. So, if you think this is a sappy love story, you are right. God used Philip to teach me that being vulnerable was okay and that I didn’t have to fight to be heard. Being mad did not make me safe. Being mad just made me…mad.

When Philip and I got married, our pastor used to say, “Do you want to be right or do you want to be reconciled?” All my life, I was fighting to be right. I began recognizing these moments for what they were…sin.

Out of all the areas in my life, living in harmony and peace is still a challenge for me and yet it is the area I can see the most growth. I am not an angry person. I can go a few months without being mad at anyone and then get caught off guard and get madder than I should. I can think of 100 times I have failed miserably, made a fool out of myself, and said or did something I regret. I can also think of 100 times I managed to control my feelings and walk in kindness even though I was hurt or mistreated.

I would love to say I walk every day in peace, but I don’t. I would love to say you can smell harmony everywhere I go, but you don’t. I can say that every day God is with me, growing me, and challenging me. When I listen to him, I am able to recognize my weakness and ask him for strength. He is also with me after I go headstrong into battle and I act the part of a fool. He then helps me see where I failed and gives me the humility to apologize.

Needless to say…I am awesome at saying, “I am sorry.” and I am amazing at being forgiven. Thank goodness God extends his mercy and grace to me every day and that they are new every morning. This certainly is something I count on.