Mid-week Likes and Links

 

I haven't put together one of these posts in FOREVER, so be prepared for a lot!

This precious rosary fidget popper thing is from Brick House in the City.  My kids love them, and I think they'd be a great stocking stuffer!  While you're on her site, this is one of my favorite tees!

I live in these joggers.

This top is what I'm wearing in my stories earlier.

My favorite book as of late!

Have you seen these pajamas for Christmas?

Love this sheer lip color!

Can't stop listening to this version of this song.

I bought a doughnut pan solely to try this recipe.

If you need meat for a fun tailgate, of course we've got you covered ;)

Agnes' mini yeti!

If you're looking for a fall bootie, these are so cute - plus they are comfy and have rubber on the soles!

We are obsessed with these with our tea.

I'm putting this on today (less than $35) since it's fifty degrees!

Found these cute shoes for the girls.

Next on my book list.  This man's wisdom and faith have helped me greatly!

This lotion is so good and party of my nightly routine (let's be honest, it's kind of the only part).

I do really love these shorts for working out...as does everyone else.

My kids are obsessed with these pens.  And, thanks to school (ha!) these, too - I have no clue what they're "used for" or "how they work" - I mean, I understand baseball cards, but these?!

I just bought this top!  And, maybe some of her gorgeous saint photos!

And, that's it - so I maybe have time to make this before the kids get home!

By His Grace

I had surgery three Mondays ago. The first week home, all of the kids were with grandparents.  The second week, the bigs were in school and the littles with my mom.  I had a lot of time.  To rest.  To heal.  To recover.  To think.

While I believe it is good at times to be alone with only one's thoughts, other times those thoughts get away from me.  And, that's what happened that week.

I had to prepare some photos for Bell Road Beef.  And, in opening my photo library, I was hit with a slew of photos from 2019-2020.  In most we were cooking something fun, doing a little activity, schooling or just living out life on the ranch.

My hair was long (I truly don't care about the length); my kids seemed so little; we were filled with yummy, new recipes.  Life was full.

Then came August, and we have new family photos, the expected "we added a new baby to the bunch" photo on my bed, and a couple of things here or there, but many less photos and honestly, many less "activities."  Then October, and next to nothing.

My mind immediately went there.  There were so many things that defined me - that defined us.  Not for any other reason than it was my job.  I was a mom, and I was going to be a mom to the very best of my ability.  I wanted to cook new things, teach my babies how to read, bring them up in the faith, make their birthdays special.  You name it - I wanted to do that.  Because it was my vocation.

I don't know the last time I made something new, or something even remotely "fun."  We have missed so much Mass in the last year for various reasons.  We've stayed home from gatherings to protect my immune system.  We've pivoted 360 degrees in our schooling.  And, my kids have grown up.  Much faster than I wanted them to.  And, there was so much just "putting one foot in front of the other" that it almost seems that I missed everything but what was essential for survival in the last eleven months.

I thought I had done so well.  Handling it.  Pushing through.  Giving it to God.

And then I was alone.  Alone with the photos of a life that didn't quite seem real (maybe that's dramatic).  And the pain came.  The tears streamed down my face as I focused on what each and every one of my family members have been through this year.  I cried at how unrecognizable our lives had become.  Over and over in my mind came the thought..."you've let everything go."  And, the Devil ran with it.

I couldn't sleep.  It didn't help that my scans were coming up.  Pervading every other thought was the one on repeat..."You cannot even be who you want to be."  Whether it was fatigue, sickness, medical travel or the perpetual fog I find myself in, my focus landed on all that I was missing around me.  And, then my medical appointments that week ended with learning I would be put on another chemo in March - an oral pill daily, for a year, that I've been told is worse than anything I've experienced thus far.

In order for a better chance to live.

I will take it.

But some days it just feels like more than I can handle.  Let me rephrase that.  More than I want to handle.

It was then, as I was sobbing on the phone to my sister, that she reminded me that all saints had life-changing events...that my little ones, yes, have lost much innocence this year, but that it's preparing them for their crosses and sanctity.

That while so much seems to have been be asked of us, we still have all we really need, even if that's a store-bought birthday cake (see how silly I am?!) and a mom who is no longer also their teacher (you know what I mean).

That while another chemo that may somewhat confine me to home also may be just fine...just like what I was looking at last year seemed insurmountable at times, too.

That the "life" contained in those pictures won't be back.  I won't ever be completely free of the risk of recurrence.  We won't ever not have a child with special needs.

That I would be lying if I said parts of that above statement don't make me sad at times (not the part about Agnes).

That so very many would trade their cross for mine.

I know that.  I know I'm still blessed beyond measure.  And, I am so very grateful.

Some days are just hard.  And, I need to sit in the hard and often talk through the experiences of the last year and how each one got us where we are today.

While I feel weak, I know we've never been stronger.  While at times I ache for my husband and kids, I know this is part of His plan for them, too.  While I wish I was "finished" in March, that's not the plan either.

As a deep part of me laments what is "lost" in my heart of hearts, this suffering is part of life.  

It's the part that reminds me I am not in control.  The part that has me curling up in my bed at night, begging Him to stop my mind and giving thanks for the opportunity to share in a minuscule part of Calvary.

It's the part that has allowed me slowly to give up pieces of my life that were never truly necessary to hold onto...opening up those places in my heart to let Him love me.

Yet sometimes, the wall comes right back up and I cry that I don't want to let go of any more.  And He gently shows me that I have to...in order to allow for the very best He has for me.

Like tiny Agnes clings to me in her distress, I pray for the grace to equally cling to Him...to allow Him to love me like I love her.  Even more than I love her.  I was clinging to too much else.

"You've let everything go" the Devil says.

By His grace, I am trying to.

I Never Thought I Would Say This

"But, I homeschool."

Then I would clarify that I used to be the one in high school who thought homeschooling was weird.

I regret that now.

Yet, it just seemed natural to "clarify" as if I knew they already thought this rural-living-family-of-eight-with-a-big-van would, of course, homeschool because it came with the already weird territory.

But then, it became me.  It was one of the cornerstones on which I built the foundation of who I wanted my family to be.  I was the mom, and it was my duty to educate my children.  What better thing did I have to do with my time?  I only had one chance to raise them, and I wanted to do it "right."  I wanted them to play as long as they could and learn through that.  I wanted to provide them a classical education.  I wanted them home, together, and with us.  I wanted a simpler life.  I wanted them to see our faith as the most important part of their lives.  I wanted to protect their innocence as long as possible.  And then, I wanted them to be a light for others.

What I once thought was so weird soon became my "right" way.

Then last year hit, and homeschooling became something different.  It became the bare minimum in terms of curriculum coupled with a heavy dose of life lessons.  Together we learned how to grieve, how to hope and how to trust.  We learned what it means to have courage, and we are stronger than we once thought.  We learned challenges are lightened with prayer and community, and it is okay to be sad and ache for something more.  The year has taught us all so much, but maybe the most important lesson has been one in letting go.

When we arrived home from Houston, Jeremy said he thought it was time to put the kids in school.  I immediately felt defeated.  How could he ask me (or tell me) to give up the last thing I seemed to be clinging to after a year of what seemed to have taken most everything else?

All I wanted to do was convince him why he was so wrong in thinking that.  I wanted him to know that I would just re-prioritize - what had been an "off" year would change with the right schedule.  Even though I wasn't the homeschool mom I wanted to be, I tried to convince him that I could handle it.  With tears streaming down my face I begged him to just let me find a solution because this was the life plan we had based so much of our daily decisions on.

He said the only solution would be to hire someone full-time to be at the house with me.  In reality, we couldn't do that.

So I closed up.  I couldn't let my babies go.  What I had convinced myself was right for my family and a very critical part of my vocation was being asked of me, and as much as I had seen God's hand in the past year of detachment, surely this wasn't part of His plan.

In true Britt fashion, I called those closest to me, begging for answers of ways to make it work.  One by one the beautiful friends of mine brought things to light.

"Maybe it's time for you to allow your husband to lead your family in the way he thinks is best."

"Your marriage comes first.  Your kids next.  Let him love and protect you like he is trying to."

"Maybe your children could benefit from this for a time."

"It isn't a forever decision."

"It doesn't mean you have failed."

"Maybe you have to let go of this to grab hold of a better path God has planned."

Saying yes to this proposal did not mean that I was a bad mom.  It didn't mean I was selfish.  It didn't mean that I had abandoned all I had convinced myself was good for my children.  But it did mean letting go...again.  And, I didn't want to.

This time, it seemed too much.  Too much to ask of me.  Too much to let go of.

With days of crying at the thought of sending the kids to school and many prayers to soften my heart, I realized that what I am/was clinging to wasn't a situation of whether or not my children would be okay (although it was a huge part of what was plaguing me).  What I was clinging to was control.

And with control, a sense of security.

But, He wants it all...not just the piece of my life I'm willing to give up to Him.  Not just trust in caring for a special needs child.  Not just trust in fighting a chronic illness.  Not just trust in in a daily life so different from what it was just months ago.  He wants it all.  Trust in my marriage.  Trust in the raising of my children.  Trust in the times in which the "right" path may not have been the path I would have chosen.

We are sending the kids to school next year.

It still makes me cry thinking about it, but I know there is good to come.  I know this decision isn't forever (unless it becomes so).  I know Jeremy is trying so hard to allow me to heal and rest.  I know my children will be okay (they are excited!).  And, I know God has this just as He has had everything else.  

His plan is always greater than mine, and I just have to let go of mine long enough to see it.