Thoughtful About . . . Being Thankful For . . .

by Roseanna White | Nov 24, 2011 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized

Thank you, Lord, for all You do for me. For sending Jesus to save me, for knowing me from eternity, for setting me on this path, surrounding me with friends and family, and holding my hand all through it.

Thank you, Lord, for placing me in a loving family, one that encourages and cheers me on, that holds me when I cry, that dusts off my knees when I fall. For amazing parents and a sister whose smile brightens my day. For nieces and in-laws and extended family that I love so very much.

Thank you, Lord, for my husband. Thank you, thank you, thank you for bringing our lives together so early, for the ten wonderful years of marriage we’ve already had, and for the future still stretching before us.

Thank you, Lord, for these precious children with whom you’ve entrusted me. Sweet little Xoe with her generous spirit and creativity, energetic Rowyn with his whole-hearted approach to life. They are blessings beyond compare.

Thank you, Lord, for the friends to whom You’ve led me. Those from my childhood who helped me grow, those from college who will always be so dear, those I’ve met through my writing that have become close as family.

Thank you for the one I’ve lost this year, for the time you gave us together and all the lessons she taught me. Thank you for the ones still fighting, still holding on.

Thank you, Lord, for a year of blessing after journeying through the valley last year. Thank you for a year of five contracts, which just baffles and awes me after working so hard for so long. Thank you for this new book that is even now sitting beside me, and for the ever-increasing success of the ones that came before it.

Thank you, Lord, for all You do for me. For sending Jesus to save me. For knowing me from eternity. For setting me on this path. For surrounding me with friends and family. And for holding my hand all through it.

Thoughtful About . . . Being Wanted

by Roseanna White | Nov 17, 2011 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized

I’m sitting here with a little boy climbing all over me. Sitting on the arm of my chair. Hanging from my neck. Inching his finger closer and closer to my keyboard. When I send him one of those Mommy looks, he flashes those cute little dimples of his and giggles in that way only little kids can giggle–then lunges across my lap and proceeds to dangle off the chair while kicking me in the face.

Oh, yes. There’s nothing like a little kid, and especially a little boy. =)

Over the weekend my church had an open house Thanksgiving dinner and music service to celebrate our new building. After the meal, when we went up to the sanctuary for the music, my daughter and her cousins decided they wanted to sit in the pew in front of us, but Rowyn climbed into his spot on my lap and wouldn’t be budged.

As any mother can attest to, there are moments aplenty when you just want two minutes of peace. Two minutes of quiet. Two minutes without hearing, “I want Mommmmmmyyyyyyyyyyyyy!” echoing through your house.

But as any mother can attest to, when you have a sweet little one snuggled in your lap grinning up at you, frustration can’t long keep a hold on you. As I sat there in church enjoying the cuddles of my baby, I had one of those moments where I realized that this little boy would soon be a big boy, then a teenager. He will soon grow out of sitting on laps and being perfectly content in my arms. He’s my youngest, so it hit me a little harder than it did with his sister.

It’s as it should be, yes. Kids have to grow up. Parents’ roles shift and change. There are new expectations, new things to delight us. For instance, with my 6-year-old daughter, you can’t (or can, LOL) imagine the feeling it gives me when she helps someone younger or brings a smile to an elderly woman’s eyes. When she draws a truly impressive picture or astounds me with a bit of insight or logic.

As the kids grow up, they want me in different ways. And frankly, it gets frustrating when they regress and want me to do what they hadn’t for months. But thinking about it makes me ponder how the analogy works in faith.

God must really love a new Christian. Love the way they cling to Him with that innocence, with that fear that if they let go, the world may just come and get them. I bet He loves snuggling new believers in His arms and saying “Abba’s here. Shhhh. Abba’s here.”

And maybe there’s the heavenly equivalent of a bittersweet pang when He realizes that stage won’t last forever. But then, the whole point is to teach us to go out. To grow up. To learn and develop and step out–not on our own, never on our own, but with that degree of independence.

If I’m a good mama, I’m going to equip my kiddos with what they need to move beyond my lap. But it’s my prayer they never leave, not in a way that prohibits coming back, coming home, getting a hug.

It’s good to be wanted. Certainly in our walk of faith, it’s good to rely on God. But He wants us to grow from milk to meat, from uncertainty to trust in the way He’s equipped us. Just like I want the cuddles to be punctuated with them doing for themselves, He wants us to rely on Him but also rely on His teachings to go do–do what’s He’s commissioned us to do.

The adorable little monkey is hanging on my arm again, alternately making me laugh and plead, “Please, Rowyn, two minutes. Just give me two minutes to finish up.” Here’s praying that today as God looks down on me, He’s saying, “I love it when you work right there beside me, Daughter. Know I’m here, always right here . . . but don’t be afraid to go do what I’ve taught you to do.”

Thoughtful About . . . Keeping Up

by Roseanna White | Nov 10, 2011 | Thoughtful Thursdays, Uncategorized

I’ve realized something over the last two weeks: I can’t do it all.

I know, right? SHOCKER. Call the local news! Roseanna White cannot do everything! 😉 But seriously, this was a big deal for me. This realization that I have finally reached my saturation point, that I have taken on all I can handle and maybe a little bit more.

That something’s got to give, and it’s going to have to be my stubborn determination to keep all those balls in the air.

I’ve had these days and weeks before, the ones where I feel totally overwhelmed and ready to snap. But usually, those have been from self-imposed deadlines (which I take just as seriously as outside-imposed ones, but still), from self-determined tasks.

Not so right now. Now I have obligations to others, people depending on me for things only I can do. I’d be happy to delegate–really, I would be. But can someone else write my books for me?

Um, no.

Can someone else do my editing?

Um, not really, no–not some parts of it.

Can someone else pack up all the books, manage all the lists? If we hire someone, but at the moment, I’m it.

Can someone else teach my kids?

Well, actually…

See, my husband and I decided back when we were in high school that we were going to homeschool. We knew that was what we were supposed to do to guarantee that our kids got the education we really want them to have. And I love knowing exactly what they’re taught, exactly how they’re doing. I love being able to answer their questions.

I love it–but I’m afraid that with all that’s on my plate right now, I’m not giving it the attention it needs. And I’ve had to entertain the notion this past week that at a certain point, what’s best for my kids’ education might not be me.

Ouch.

It’s hard for someone who has always been confident in her ability to do whatever she set her mind on to admit that maybe she’s let things slip too far. Maybe she’s hurting more than she’s helping. Maybe the messy house has degraded into a certifiable disaster zone, maybe the good intentions aren’t enough, maybe some things would be better off if she got her hand out of them.

But that’s where I am. And you know, realizing that is . . . freeing. All of a sudden I know that some things are going to change. And I know that it’s going to take time and work to change them. But I can hear the Lord whispering in my ear, “I ask you to do your tasks, daughter–not everyone else’s. Do them, do them well. And then let go.”

Sometimes trying to keep up is just a matter of pride, not a matter of doing what you actually should. I think that’s where I’ve been lately. But it’s finally to the point where I want to let some things go. Where the blessings in one realm are going to help me balance out the need in another. Thank you, Lord, for letting it work that way!

I don’t think change is ever easy, but you know–sometimes staying the same is even harder. There comes a time when we can’t keep up with the race we’ve entered. It doesn’t mean we should give up . . . just that we should take a different course.