Disengage

You know that moment when you know- as you are making the decision- this one will affect the REST. OF. OUR. LIVES. We’re in one of those. I’ve been chasing the dream for a year now. Trying to provide for the family I so love. Trying to get us ahead of the game. However- all I’ve succeeded at is more turmoil and unrest. So now it’s time to take stock and disengage. I’m here to pledge to the world- but more importantly- my family- mommy is done trying to define herself outside the home.
To my four littles- God has given me one job in this life- to raise you up in his image. I’ve not been great at that- in fact the last year I have STUNK at it. I am going to be better at my God given position in life.
To my sweet hubs- I have stepped on your toes on so many occasions this past year. I have not listened to your concerns, I have put my agenda above yours. I have not trusted you and have not respected your place as the spiritual leader of our home. I am sorry. I will honor and obey you- submit to your authority. Most of all I will be more approachable and seek your council more appropriately.
To my God- I will listen closer to what you are saying to me. I will seek you out in your Word, and in Prayer. I will cleave to the position in life you have given me- and seek joy and fulfillment in purely that place in the home and in the world.
Lastly to the others in my life. I have been stingy this year. I haven’t been available to you all. I haven’t been able to serve as I’m used to doing. I have been busy, flaky, moody, just a general bore. That changes today.
My prayer today is that my heart will be ready to accept where God wants to put me. I’m torn down to the quick and this is where I will stay- silent and peaceful til God shows me where he needs me.
Love to you all!
Ash

A lesson in life from a gym rat

I probably should clear a few things up before I relay this story. First is… I’m somewhat of a gym rat. Next to home, it’s the place I “check in” to the most on Facebook. Secondly, I’m no stranger to floor work, namely in the abs area. I should have a core like Cameron Diaz as much time as I spend on the floor doing abs. Lastly, I Zumba so often i should certify so I can make the money not give it. I think that’s enough foreshadowing. I have a story for you.
I went to the gym Monday evening. We had a little time prior to class so my Best M and I decided to do a little floor work. Out came the balls and mats and medicine balls and we set to work. Like most moms I know; my target area is ALWAYS the dreaded pooch. I got on the ball in push-up position with the ball at my ankles and I proceeded to pull my legs up into kneeling position….20 times. I was feeling cool cuz MBM wasn’t attempting that little stunt and I was fine. We did some other work then headed into Zumba. It was a good work out/ much needed attitude adjustment. Fast forward twenty two hours, six minutes and eighteen seconds later… It hit. With a gusto my AB work H I T me…in the middle of Justice For Girls. I was on the floor curled in fetal position moaning incoherent strings of pleas to make it go away. I managed to get back home and toss back a few (12) Advil and then I tried to sit down and let the drugs kick in. It was the most excruciating episode of Wizards of Waverly Place… Ever. And that’s one of the more tolerable Disney shows.
We walked over to Rain’s soccer game three blocks away. It took me 20 minutes. The lady walking around trying to induce her labor lapped me thats how slow I was going. I made it to the park and I couldn’t stand upright, I looked less like Mom at the Soccer Game more like the Hunchback of Notre Dame. And I was anti social. And cold cuz apparently mid October at 6 pm in Utah is not exactly t-shirt weather. So each shiver induced more pain. That was the longest 45 minutes of my life and I’ve birthed three large babies NATURALLY.
By half time my overdose of Advil had kicked in and I was yelling TWICE as loud and TWICE as often to make up for my horrible first half. Oh and sprinting from the playground to the field just because I could.
So what I learned is this, my abs and consequently my stretch marks are gifts of life. I sacrificed my body to nurture life for another being. I was Christlike in my selfless sacrifice. So the next time I try to erase the reminders of what I can do when I don’t put myself first, I’ll put the medicine ball away and hug one of my kiddos instead. From now on the most intense AB workout I will be doing is when I’m sucking in my belly as I order three pieces of Chocolate Truffle Decadence to-go from the Cheesecake Factory.
Until next life lesson…..