Go back, Zak.

As a Mom of multiple kids, close calls can happen.  Even in our best efforts to keep them safe, we cannot possibly save them from everything.  That is why it is so important to pray for God's protection over our kids and trust that He knows what is best for them.  Our Zakariah has kept us on our toes sense he could move and groove.

At 6 months old, Zak could pull himself up and stand beside things.  At 10 months old,  he was walking!  That was the earliest any of our kids walked... he couldn't wait to take off and keep up with his big brother.  He was and is our clumsy, bruiser.  He would fall and run into things daily (or hourly).  He'd just shake it off and get back up.  He was into everything and was a bit destructive!  Many times he would empty a baby powder bottle all over himself and his bedroom.  Another time, he was caught getting a chocolate ice cream lid out of the trash, helping himself to it, and smearing it all over his little, mischievious face.  While Jacob, Zak's older brother, used a spoon to eat his chocolate pudding and was as clean as a whistle, Zak would spread it all over himself and the table like finger paints.  Oh, and he was definitly a play-doh eater.  Haha!  I really wish I would have kept a journal of all the crazy things he did as a toddler.

 His first steps.

 Pudding finger paints...

Zak was playing with green Play-Doh... I wonder where he put it?!?

Baby powder baby!  So cute, but so naughty.

When Zak was about 1 1/2 years old, we were at a family bonfire at my Aunt and Uncle's house.  We kept a close eye on him as he was bound and determined to run into that fire.  But, of course, somehow we got distracted and he made a fierce beeline for that fire.  Thankfully, my cousin grabbed him before he leapt into it.  Phew!  He scared me around water, fire, heights, anything with any danger involved because he seemed to have no fear... at all.  I remember having nightmares about him dying in some horrible way and me being helpless to save him.

Another scary moment was a few years ago when I was sitting in the van with all four boys.  Tyler (my husband) had gone into Best Buy to grab something real quick.  I was messing on my phone (21st century adult) and I heard someone whining about something.  By this point in my parenting, I am pretty good at ignoring it.  But after a few minutes, I turn around to find that Zak had wrapped the seat belt around his neck and it had tightened.  I could barely get my fingers in between the seat belt and his neck.  I freaked out!!  When Tyler got back, I yelled, "go get scissors!!"  Lol.  Tyler, all cool and collected, used his car key to disconnect the seat belt from the ceiling.  Thank you, Lord, it wasn't tighter around his neck.  That kid, he gets himself in such predicaments!! 

He is now 8 years old and has grown up a lot!  While he is still super clumsy, he has a good healthy fear of most things.  He is a great swimmer, knows to stay away from fires, and heights... well... i still don't trust him, but that will come :)  He is a pretty trustworthy kid for the most part, but we got a wake up call a couple months ago.

Our family of six was walking in the downtown area in our small, Amish town.  It was around 4:30pm and was unusually busy.  We had just walked out of a store and were grabbing the hands of our 5 and 6 year old.  We were still planning our way to the crosswalk when Zak decided to run, like a bullet out of a shotgun, across the street at a full on sprint.  I stood on the sidewalk as I watched my 8 year old run straight in front of a furniture truck.  I was in shock, helpless to save him, and would have seen the whole life-ending mess right in front of my eyes.  With only a few feet, if that, between him and the truck, Zak ran back to us.  My first reaction was to yell at him!!  I didn't care who was around.  I wanted to scare the crap out of him quite frankly!  Because he had scared the crap out of me (not literally, thankfully)!  Then I just sobbed and held him.  In the matter of seconds, our lives would have been changed forever.  He could have died, or been in a wheel chair the rest of his life. Zak had a hard time sleeping that night and will, to this day, talk about how he almost died.  I'm thankful that memories fade and become less real, because that image was tormenting and still brings me to tears.

A couple weeks ago as we were walking to the Clock Tower (A neat focal point in our small town), Zak started talking about how we wouldn't have been walking to the clock tower, if he had died.  I, up until that point, assumed I had called his name to come back to me when he almost ran in front of that truck.  So, I asked him, "Did you come running back, because I yelled your name?"  He said, "No, you didn't yell my name.  I heard in my mind, 'Go back, Zak'."  That was the first I had heard of that from him!  I knew right away... it was God.  I told him that God was speaking to him and he very confidently said, "I know".  Wow.  Just wow.

I 100% believe that God protected Zak that day.  The enemy wants to steal, kill, and destroy, but our GOD is bigger!  I don't always understand His ways and I don't expect to.  But I am thankful for his protective hand over Zak.  God is good... always.

For you, Boy-Moms.

This is for you, boy-moms.  I'm not talking about the moms who have a couple boys and a girl.  I'm talking to the moms who only have testosterone flowing thru the house like a hurricane.  Maybe you can relate with some or all of the experiences I've had with my 4 boys.

Parenting only boys is tough.  And no one can understand it unless they live it.  They wear us to the very brink of insanity with their endless energy, stubbornest, attitudes, hormones (yes, hormones 🙀), emotional breakdowns (I've got a drop-of-the-hat sobber), crazy messes, spontaneity, anger, competitiveness, and they play off of each other like racquetball.  Raising boys isn't for the faint of heart... they stink, make lots of sounds (and smells), and seriously gross me out with their gooey, bodily fluids.  Not to mention the infamous pee all over the floor, wall, and toilet seat... ain't a myth y'all.  These little psychos leave the house with us and forget everything they've ever been taught.  I'll go a step further and make it more personal... maybe, like me, you have boys that don't care about sports like boys are expected to, they don't like working hard, they complain about darn near everything, they aren't always respectful to adults no matter how much you feel like you pour into them, they have fears, anxieties, a hard time making friends, and would rather be playing video games than being outside.  Having boys is hard, but sometimes it's harder than hard.

It's not just the nature of boys, but how people make you feel when you have all boys.  The most common phrase said to me, "You are busy all the time aren't ya?"  Um yes, yes I am.  Or my favorite... "all boys huh, never got your girl?"  Nope... thanks for rubbing it in tho.  The way people look at us when we sit next to them at restaurants with our troop 😒.  Sorry to ruin your meal, but they generally do ok.  People do not swoon over boys (at least not older boys) like they do girls... they aren't sugary sweet and quiet or frilly and polite.  People tend to laugh at their behavior or look annoyed.  They can be little turds, I know that, but it still hurts.  No shopping or pedicures with our kiddos on girl's days... we're the lone rangers of the bunch and have to be okay with that. Not many want to take the time to get to know our boys, especially after they get jumped on by them!  But who can blame'em.  We seldom get invited to things or we at least don't feel like people want us to bring our circus of boys.  Maybe it's just me thinking of what could have been, what I'm dealing with, and what I'm missing out on, that makes me critical.  And, typically, I know our boys are such blessings and we'd never trade them, but sometimes what people say and in certain situations, we let ourselves feel burdened by them.  Ever feel that way??

But wait!!  I have recently had a eureka moment... am I really missing anything?  Do any of those things truly matter?  Like, Pastor Dan Mohler says quite often, "You are letting it matter more when it doesn't matter MOST."   And for a few days now, God has been bringing to my mind this question - We were created for our Heavenly Father and our only purpose on this earth is to bring glory to His name in our own unique way... so why am I living for myself?  The only reason I would care about any of those things is if I am world focused and me-focused, instead of Christ-focused.  To be offended by someone is to be thinking of myself and how things effect me.  Me focused!  Ouch!  I am extremely guilty of this and it's a daily battle where I fail time and time again, but I'm determined to live in no offense and to be thankful... always.  His plan for my life is way different than the plans I thought I wanted or needed.  But God makes no mistakes and he created my 4 boys and your boys with a divine purpose only they can fulfill.  How amazing is that!!

Ok so, after I dogged on them, I have to say, my boys are pretty special, too, and I am so blessed to be their Mom.  They love on me and say the sweetest things.  They are all uniquely amazing and different in their own ways and it is so fun to see what they say and do everyday.  Malachi (my youngest), just tonight, was telling me that he never wants to forget my name 💕And he continually tells me he likes my hair.  Haha.  That kid.  Thaddeus is our little man and can be heard saying, "yes, no, maybe so" and "easy peasey, lemon squeezey".  He is our little helper and is always willing to lend a hand.   Zakariah, just last weekend, gave Malachi a ball he got from a baseball game.  Malachi was sad he didn't get one and Zak wanted to make him happy.  That was a tear jerker... they can be so surprising, how tender their little hearts are.  And Jake, our oldest, he tells me often... "I don't know what I would do without you Mom".  Right back at you, Son.   He gave his life to Christ a year ago last April and I am so proud of that boy!  They all can be caught humming Twenty-One Pilots' songs which just makes me smile.  I am excited for the day all my little boys are strapping men, towering over their Mama, thanking me for putting up with their craziness all these years!

I love my boys and being a boy-mom even though it can be very hard.   Boy-moms, You are not alone.  We all struggle with comparisons and exhaustion.  Boys are a challenge, but so very special and needed in this world and God knew we were strong enough for that challenge 💪🏻  Live without offense.  Love others.  Be thankful.  Be prayerful.  Be Christ-focused and not self-focused.  (Speaking to myself, too!). Love on those boys and cherish these fleeting moments we have left with them!

 How can I not be proud of these little faces!  Thank you, Lord, for loaning them to me.

What is my testimony?

Thank you, Jesus.  You are my Comforter.  You are my Father.  You are a Chain breaker.  You are Healer.  You are all that I need... I believe that.  You are Sovereign.  You are Good.  You love me and I love You. I believe it.

I wrote that question down a couple weeks ago, "What is my Testimony?", and started writing how I didn't have a testimony and it was very much a pity party.  I deleted it.  God gave me a testimony and here it is.

I grew up in a Christian home, so from a very young age, I knew the difference between right and wrong.  I cried when I heard a cuss word and I was a solid believer that smoking was very bad for you.  Ha!  My poor sister would wake up some mornings with drawings on her wall, from her little sister, of a black lung and a clean lung, trying to convince her to quit smoking.  I always believed that God is our Creator.  I always knew there is a Heaven and a Hell.  I knew I needed to believe in the death and resurrection of the Son of God in order to be saved.  I would continuously ask Jesus into my heart, just in case it didn't take the first time, or second, or third.  It was definitely all about rules.  My family would get into Heaven, there was no way I'd be left behind.  That's all Christianity was to me.  And things really didn't change as I got older.

God absolutely blessed me with a wonderful Husband and four amazing little boys.  God moved my family from Texas to Indiana when I was 15.  I was bitter and angry when I got here, but I can see now just what God was doing.  He brought me here to meet Tyler.  I rarely felt clarity about anything, but marrying Tyler was a no brainer.  I knew, without a doubt, he was the man God wanted me to marry.  Little did I know, our marriage would bring glory to God, time and time again.

In and out of consistant ministry confused me and shook the little faith that I had.  Open doors were uplifting to my spirit, but then shut doors devastated me.  I never realized how shakey my foundation was.  Tyler was being filled constantly and His walk with God was strengthened.  He was and is being used by God to bring glory to His name and spread His unfailing love to the broken.  I've watched him become a man that put my faith to shame.  I was becoming bitter that I couldn't understand what Tyler was experiencing.  Why was he so excited?  Why was he so bound and determined to share God's love?  I had never really experienced it, or so I thought, and I was angry and almost irritated by anything spiritual.  I continued worshiping up front, with a mic in my hand, crying because I felt something, but had no idea what and no idea why I was praising Him.  I can say, I always prayed that the Holy Spirit would take over our music, because I know without that, our musical talent is just noise.  So, I had that right, but everything else was wrong.

This has been a tough 4 weeks.  We have felt hammered by the evil one.  A never ending cough and headache for me, a different kid sick every week (a stomach bug... a nightmare for me), open and shut doors, up and down emotions, a death in the family, physical issues, chipped teeth, bike crashes, arguments, sleepless nights, screwed up hormones and cycle... I've just felt so weak and attacked.  Then something triggered an absolute melt down 4 days ago.  I was so mad at God for what I didn't have.  No talent, no gifts, no friends, not smart, no purpose, failure as a Mother, social anxiety, fears that crippled me, weakness, worthlessness, doubt, comparison, unbelief... there was literally no bad feeling I didn't feel.  Tyler and my parents, at different times, asked to pray with me, but I wanted nothing to do with it.  I was in a pit.  I cried out to God and I felt nothing and was mad about it.  I read Psalm 23 and yelled at God, "You are my shepherd.... How are You my Shepherd?!  You are my Strength.... How are you my strength?!  You comfort me.... How are you comforting me?!?..." and on it went.  Heard and felt nothing.  I was lashing out at Tyler, meaner than dirt.  Accusing him of things, telling him he wasn't loving me enough or telling me the right things.  Poor guy.  But, you know what he did?  He loved me thru it.  He took my mean words.  He might have lashed out at me once, who could blame him, but then he went right back to loving me... listening to me and correcting my accusations with love.  It made me madder.  Ha!  At this point my eyes are so swollen from the sobbing I had done for days.  I felt helpless and consumed.  I felt like I could do unthinkable things to numb what I was feeling.  I could relate to any sinner.  The devil was a lion, devouring me and I was letting him.

Then, last night, Tyler was up in our room listening to a sermon (this guy never quits), the kids were at Wednesday Night kids club, and I was in the living room feeling dark and alone.  I texted Tyler, "I am so depressed."  He immediately comes down.  He hugs me and starts praying for me, and I let him.  He cries with me, he prays over me, and he tells me how much he loves me in a way I had never heard.  He tells me that God is going to empower me and we are going to stomp Satan for a living.  Something about that got my attention.  I started to let go of some of my bitterness and unbelief.  I started to gain ground and then I'd share more of my doubt and Tyler just kept praying with me.  2 1/2 hours go by and he lets me know, he will pray with me as long as it takes... Satan will not win.  I got to a point where, I couldn't make myself believe.  I just had to wait on God.  I needed something to hold on to.  I had prayed for months for Him to reveal Himself in some way, to comfort me like He promises, to speak to me, to put His arms around me... something that I know is from God.  I needed it, I longed for it.  I didn't want to go back to lukewarm faith.  This was the turning point... it had to be.  Tyler and I stood up and he just hugged me.  Now, anyone who truly knows me, knows I am not a hugger.  Makes me cringe.  He started singing "Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, there's just something about that name..."  At first I feel like, wow this is stupid.  Then, this unexplainable feeling comes over me.  I start to cry and I shut my eyes... And then it happens.   I feel and see Jesus holding me.  I could feel my Father, finally.  It was not Tyler holding me.... it was Jesus.  I felt him for two songs.  "Great is Thy Faithfulness, oh God my Father" Tyler sings.  I have never felt so loved and so special in my entire life.  He is real.  I know it now.  I no longer feel insignificant, because my Father loves me enough to reveal Himself to me and hold me like He was here on earth.  He used Tyler to get to me.  He used my parents to speak to me.  My Shepherd left the 99 for the 1.

I am so thankful that when I sing praises to Him, I know what I'm praising Him for.  I believe His promises.  I am a new creation.  He loves me and I can honestly say I love Him... maybe even for the first time.  I have a testimony and I never thought I'd have one.  Thank you, Jesus, for your love.  Work on me daily, use me, hold me, love on me, mold me... I'm yours to use for Your glory.  Forever and ever.  I never want to forget Your faithfulness.  And I'm going to hug people.  Ha!  Hallelujah.