Since I published my last post I’ve written 6 posts. Three posts published over at How They Blog.com & three which may never leave my computer…I know, what a tease.  For those wondering how I’m doing…rest your mind because life in the Mac house is going great (for more frequent updates, you’ll find me on Instagram). I’m loving our new schedule and feeling lots of joy in it. But I felt the need to explain why no new words have made it into this space the last two weeks. Those three mystery posts haven’t felt right for here, stuff for me to work out with God. Like every day in my over-processing brain, I have tons of thoughts. Last night I saw a common theme, here it is…the brain dump.

{spoiled} 

After spending time with my high school English teacher this past weekend, it struck me how incredibly blessed I’ve been for my 36 years of life. You see, Miss Hubbard (hard for me to call her anything else) knows my wonderful parents, my idyllic home town, my fabulous education, my constant faith and now she also sees my loving husband and adorable boys.

And its confounding I could ever complain, ever be depressed, ever wish for a different…anything. Gratitude should be etched on my lips because I’ve been given an. amazing. life.

Moment when I saw a table covered in Legos and thought little boys took it granted. When in reality I was the one taking the little boys for granted.

And yet…

There have been days, months, whole years where I‘ve rushed through motherhood because surely God’s purpose for me is bigger than wiping bottoms and filling sippy cups. My big moment was yet to come, not right now.

With social media blaring friends’ successes, it’s hard not to assume your time may never come.

I’ll never forget the first time I read a Sally Clarkson book (probably “Ministry of Motherhood).  She gave me hope for the time spent hugging overtired, tantrumming boys and cleaning up from one more spilt milk; calling these acts meaningful. Those moments never seen outside of our living room walls, had purpose.

There’s one thing I want to make sure you read crystal clear. This simple sentence:

You and I (and our children) were made for a purpose.

That statement should have you grinning ear to ear.

{true happiness}

“A 2009 study found that children who felt their lives had a purpose (promoted by a spiritual connection) were happier.” (“Spirituality is Key to Kids’ Happiness” from Science Daily).

Which is explains why after reading bed time stories, three little boys tucked under a spiderman quilt beg for me to pray over them-to cast a vision of who I know God made them to be and how God can use them to do His work (big or small).

It’s not the Happy Meals which bring happiness (especially when your son opens the box to find he already has 8 exact replicas of the toy inside…oh the moans of disappointment).

True happiness comes knowing you matter in this world. Really knowing. Not the flippant quoting of Jeremiah 29:11, “for I know the plans I have for you…” Real deep in your bones knowing. You have never been a mistake. You play a critical role in how eternity unfolds. Know that. Now there is your reason for getting up every morning.

{value of faithful smallness}

I believe there is a generation of teens and college students grasping for purpose. They assume life only matters if a YouTube video goes viral or they get signed to a pro sports league or maybe star in a reality show or start a philanthropic non-for-profit. Do only big stages have big purpose? Can we live small lives and still be incredibly valuable?

And yet, can we allow mindless, meaningless activities to keep us from our purpose? Like I tell my boys, he didn’t create you and place you on this earth to play video games your whole life or for the teen to waste hours wasted or for the bored mom (me) to incessantly check Facebook. Distraction and discouragement are the thieves of purpose. 

As I read through the genealogy of Christ in the book of Matthew, listing several women, it struck me anew how each one was essential to salvation. Each played a role in Christ’s story, even if some in their journey tripped and fell. Sin was overcome at the cross and couldn’t keep generations from delivering Christ. Tamar (slept with her Father-in-law). Rahab (prostitute). Bathsheba (mistress). Each woman served a purpose…out of her womb arrived the next generation.

Never underestimate your place in history. A history with a cross at the center. A history in which we are moving from the fall to eternal life. You are valuable. You matter. You have a purpose. That should make you happy (and according to research your kids happy, too).

Last night I watched Eric Metaxas “I am Second” story of how he came to faith. Click here to watch it. 

“To know my life is not a mistake. To know my life is not meaningless. To really know. That’s freedom. That’s real freedom.” {Eric Metaxas}