A Time to Take and a Time to Give

The year before we got married, my husband fulfilled his goal of running in the Chicago marathon.  After months of training, race day came and we drove downtown early that morning to get him all set up at the start line. His family and I moved around the city to cheer him on at different parts of the race. Everywhere we went, a slew of volunteers were helping to make sure the race ran smoothly and did everything they could to help these runners finish the race. There were bands playing, spectators cheering and people handing out cups of Gatorade. I would watch Troy run down the vehicle vacant streets of Chicago, reaching out for a cup of Gatorade to quench his thirst and give him the boost his body needed to go a few more miles. If one was to strip down race day and categorize the people, we could find two groups: the takers and the givers.

The takers would be the runners. They took the opportunity to run in this race. They took the kindness of the city to shut down the roads so the path would be safe. They took the cups of Gatorade. They took the cheers of the side-liners. They ‘took’ to complete the task; finishing the race.

The givers were those who helped the runners finish. These people gave their time. They gave up their sleep to be prepared. They gave their support. They ‘gave’ to complete the task; finishing the race.

As mothers, we have our own marathon to run. We have been charged with the most important job anyone can have, raising our babies. Our goal is the same as the runners; we need to finish the race too. That morning, as I cheered for my soon-to-be husband, I saw many runners who had to drop out of the race. They couldn’t finish those 26.2 miles physically or mentally. I have seen moms drop out of the race too. To be honest, I have dropped out of the race myself. Mentally, I couldn’t hack this mommy marathon.

After my son was born, I was still new to Cincinnati. I didn’t have any friends in the area. I wasn’t connected to a group and I was a stay at home mom so I couldn’t find camaraderie at work. Though I was extremely appreciative of my many blessings, I was desperately lonely. Each day that went by, I became more isolated and I felt like my joy was being slowly stripped away. Of course, I had my husband, but I am going to let you in on a little secret, men and women are totally different creatures.  Men don’t always respond to the needs of women the way women would like. Shocker, I know. This is almost always a communication issue which is a whole different topic of conversation, but my point is that women can relate better to each other because their experiences are similar.  So having a group of women to support us while we parent is crucial. I decided to join a MOPS (Mothers of Preschoolers) group at my church. The first meeting I attended was another game changer for me. I have shared with you in my It Takes a Village blog post, that I confessed to my small group that I was lonely and my joy tank was near empty. I also told them that as much as I loved and appreciated being a stay at home mom, I wasn’t sure if I wanted that title to define me; I guess I was still mourning my professional life. Instead of looking at me with judgement, those women rallied around me and loved on me for the next nine months of MOPS. They gave me encouragement. They gave me a renewed view on the importance of my role as a mother. They gave me advice. They gave me the impression that I was not alone. They gave. I was in a season of my life where it was a necessity for me to take.  

By the end of the year, I felt empowered.  This was great, because by then, I was a mama of two children under the age of two. I was approached by our MOPS coordinator to join the steering team for the following year. I knew I wanted to take a leadership role in MOPS, but I thought that would be farther into the future. I just had a baby; now wasn’t a good time - but if we are always waiting for a good time to give back, we will never find that time. I decided I needed to join the leadership team for MOPS, because I had to bless other moms the way these moms had blessed me. I had reached a stronger place in my race and now it was my turn to give.

We all have ebb and flow in our lives. Some seasons show us that we need to revel in a time of taking. We need to work on our own personal growth as I did my first year in MOPS. Other seasons need to be a time of shepherding and giving back when a healthier place has been reached. It is important to note that these roles of the Taker and Giver will dance back and forth depending on our situations but one thing is true, it is important for all of us to be both the Taker and the Giver in our lives.

For those of you reading this now who are in a season of self-doubt or loneliness, look around you. Are there people who are trying to hand you a cup of Gatorade as you determine whether or not you are even going to stick in this race? Accept their cup. TAKE. This is your place of need and that’s okay! There is no shame is reaching out to those who want to help you. They are doing so because someone reached out to them.

Maybe you are reading this and you are thinking that you are in a good place now. You find that you don’t need to take as much as you once did. I encourage you to look around and see where you can contribute. GIVE. Give of your time, your wisdom, your leadership, your talents, your encouragement and your stories.

Remember, regardless of where you are on race day, the goal is the same. We all just want to finish, but we can’t do it alone. We need others around us and we need to determine if this is our time to take or our time to give.

**Originally written for Emerge Mothers Academy Parenting Class**

It Takes a Village

There is a famous parenting phrase that we have all heard at one time or another; "it takes a village to raise a child." While that was true for my parents' generation, when parents and the community looked out for and sometimes disciplined children, in today's culture most parents are not thrilled when someone corrects their child. Even as a teacher, I had many "not my child" conversations with parents and received a phone call with a screaming mother on the other end wanting to know why I disciplined her son because he kicked another child in my class. (Her theory was that he has a right to stand up for himself though physical means.) Gone are the days when children were raised in a similar way - and there are positives and negatives to that, which is another blog post all on its own. But recently, I thought about the "it takes a village" phrase and wondered if maybe we could change the ending to "to help a mama."

This week, we received the last of our charitable meals from loving women who wanted to bless my family. For the past two months, women from my MOPs group have been bringing meals, twice a week, to my home. These meals were made with love and included the main dish, fruit/veggies and dessert. They also had enough food for us to stretch the love to two meals. Many of these women not only brought over these delicious meals to our house, they also stayed and chatted with my make-up free, yoga-pants self to see how I was doing and if I needed anything. Some of these women also brought sweet gifts for my Sadie Jane and also for her big brother Zachary. One friend brought over a cooler with six casseroles inside for us to freeze and pull out when we needed a meal. Each week, these women blessed our family in a simple, yet profound way. They not only fed our bellies, but our hearts as well.

After Zachary was born, we were still new to Cincinnati. I knew a few people from the school where I worked and a couple of our neighbors and of course Troy's coworkers, but that was it. We had just decided that Montgomery Community Church would be our home church, but we had only been attending for a month or two so we weren't connected to anyone there yet. After our family left and Troy went back to work, I felt very alone. I still had my friends in Minnesota that I called and we would make trips back to Chicago to visit family, but my only real support was Troy. 

Parenting didn't meet the expectations that I had set. I had no idea how hard and how lonely it could be. I can remember thinking when Zachary was four months old, that I might be able to do this - which really meant for four months, while I was head over heals in love with my son, I was unhappy. I joined MOPs at my church the September after Zachary turned one. I had a lot of prompting from Troy due to the fact that my introverted self felt apprehensive about entering into a group where I knew not a soul. I promised myself that I was not going to pour myself out to these women just yet. They were going to have to earn my trust. I was just going to check things out and enjoy the childcare. Maybe go to the bathroom without a toddler pulling all the toilet paper off the roll. However, the Holy Spirit had another idea in mind. One that I wouldn't have chosen. One that made me vulnerable.

After mingling during brunch, introductions and a short video, we discussed a few questions about our dreams and before I knew it, the words that had been brewing in my gut came running up my throat and spilling out of my mouth. I knew this was not my doing. My plan was to keep them bottled up inside so that these women would think I actually knew what I was doing; that I had it together. I started sharing with my group about how I love my son, but I had a hard time finding real joy in my role as a mother and how guilty that made me feel. I told them that I was scared because now I was pregnant again and I didn't know how I was going to find joy with two children if I can't find it with one. I told them that I felt ashamed for even thinking this because I have two healthy children and some people can't even have one. Tears streamed down my face as I realized in horror that yes, I had just spoken all these things out loud to women I didn't even know. I wanted to run out of the room but my knees were shaking.

I took a breath, blinked back the tears that had not yet escaped and looked up at these women who would spend the next nine months uplifting me - and each other - and the looks on their faces showed nothing of judgement, but of empathy. One by one, they each offered me their words of wisdom and comfort. Some offered advice that worked for them, others agreed to having similar feelings. I realized that this group was much more powerful than I thought. This was my village. 

That morning was a turning point in my role as a parent. We were not created to be alone. The Good Book says that right in the beginning, Genesis 2:18 says, "The Lord God said, "It is not good for man to be alone. I will make a helper suitable for him."" I was trying to parent without any suitable helpers. Of course, I had Troy who is an amazing husband, father and friend, but I think moms need other moms too. 

Since September, my cup has overflowed. Obviously, I have days that are hard; where I am not a good parent or spouse, but I also have friends who come alongside of me and pick me up. I have found real joy in my role as a parent because I have found my village.

If you are struggling, I encourage you to find your village. If you live in the Cincinnati area, please come and check out Montgomery Community Church. If you are a mother of a child who is not yet in kindergarten, join a MOPs group. Find your people, because I am now convinced that it takes a village to help a mama.

Happy Mamas have a village behind them.