I know I’ve been conspicuously absent the past couple days but I have a great excuse. We’re recording a new CD.

My hubby just landed a job at Apple, and from now on his schedule is going to be pretty unknowable. So we decided that while we have a couple weeks before he starts working, we should just go ahead and record the album we’ve been talking about recording for the last two years. My heart feels creative and alive and wonderful as I sit here in our friend Aaron Strumpel’s house listening to Tim record guitar tracks in the other room. My kids, thanks to a wonderful friend here in town, are having a great time at her house during the days this week, and all I have to think about besides our songs is what to make for dinner and getting the girls dressed and in bed at the right time. Ahhhhhhh.

The other day, however, was a different story.

The Plan

Aaron, great friend and producer that he is, decided we needed to write a couple more songs.  Tim, great and supportive husband that he is, wanted me to be involved.  I felt good and loved.  But not only did I have my two girls with me that day, but I had my friend Ally staying with me with her toddler and baby. The guys came over at naptime hoping to get some time when ALL 4 children were sleeping.

We camped out around the table with our notebooks and instruments, hopeful and with all 4 kids in their own beds.

On The Right Foot

Five minutes. Coffee was made and chocolates were out.

Ten minutes. We had a couple inspiring psalms to work from.

Fifteen minutes. We had a couple ideas down on paper.

And then we heard Emma, my 7 month old.

Maybe she just needs to get some energy out, we said.

And then we heard Ellie, my 2 year old.

Tim went in to soothe Emma and tell Ellie, “It’s time for sleeping.” But to no avail.

And then we heard Margot, Ally’s 4 month old.

Maybe Margot will fall back asleep, we said.

Norah, sweet girl, slept for 3 hours.

And Then it All Falls Apart

At this point, 3 of the 4 babies were calling out to us from their respective pack n’ plays. Tim and Aaron, though, were determined to keep me involved in the songwriting process, and they tried their hardest to power through the sounds of three babies calling out from their respective pack n’ plays and cribs. Ally and I, however, knew better and rolled our eyes at the thought of being able to concentrate with so many babies seeking our attention.

And We’re Done.

After about 1 hour of trying to ignore the noise and be creative, Ally and I sent the boys to Aaron house to keep writing without us.

Ugh.

It’s just a season, Ally and I reminded each other. It’s not going to last forever, we said. But my eyes got teary anyway; I was disappointed. I felt bad that that we didn’t get anywhere on our song. I realized how long it had been since I’d written any songs, and I didn’t want to wave the white flag. And truthfully, I felt like I should have been able to deal with it. I felt like I should have been able to write in the midst of it all.

Those are the days when my perspective could get way off if I indulged those thoughts even just a little bit. Instead, I decided to say, this is okay. I decided to convince myself that I would have another opportunity on a better day, and that this whole deal didn’t need to tell me that my life as a creative and a songwriter had to be on hold for the next 5 years. I just don’t believe that motherhood puts the brakes on all other things that I love and care about. In fact, believing that lie would just prevent me from living into an important part of who the Father made me to be.

*Sigh*

So the next day, I woke up early, got out my guitar, and wrote the bulk of “The Lord is Good,” which I shared on this past Good Song Sunday. I started it before the kids got up, continued it while Tim and Ally fed the girls breakfast, and Ally and I finished it sometime around lunch when the girls were playing. It took 6 hours and you can see dried banana and baby cereal on my shirt in the video, but we did it! Needless to say, victorious is a great word to describe how we felt that day.

Tim wrote this yesterday and put it out on The Blackthorn Project site to celebrate the New Year, and I had to share it here.  Even though he’s not a mom, he’s married to one and these steps are just good to have in our heads and hearts in the New Year.

Being a mom of 2 small children myself, I know that stepping out in something new right now can feel laughable. But, it’s good for us, isn’t it? And isn’t it good for our kids to see us working at something for ourselves? Doesn’t it model something valuable for them?

Click on the picture or follow this link to read it.

I’ve heard from a couple of my girlfriends about learning to play the piano, from another learning mandolin, for another it’s learning to sew, for another it’s starting her own blog. For me, the new thing this year is to continue conquering my fear of crafts–making hats and whatever else I think is cute. What’s yours?

I heard my husband say this to someone not too long ago and it stuck with me.  I thought that while we’re all thinking about New Years resolutions, I’d throw it out at you:

We spend all our time praying for direction, when what we really need is courage.

I heard this and I realized that the courage I need is the courage to be right now the person I was created to be.  The courage to agree with “the gift” the Father says I am, to live out my dreams and to give myself the freedom to change, to embrace each season of my life for what it is and enjoy it to its fullest. Not a bad challenge, eh?

If you were going to act on the dreams you already have in courage, what would you do? How would it change things?

Yesterday the girls and I picked Tim up from the airport. He had just completed a 10-day trip to Peru where he taught, led worship, and encouraged local pastors with our good friend Doug and was coming home both exhausted and exhilarated.

I have to admit, I was more than a little jealous of my well-traveled husband.

Two years ago we were invited to go on a similar trip and to bring Ellie, who was then 8 months old. Now, I know that there are many many of you women who have brought kids along and have had very successful, wonderful trips. For me, however, the thought of carrying around an 8-month-old on two huge travel days and then for 10 days of itinerant worship leading and teaching was just plain exhausting. I’m spent when we travel for 3 days here in the States where we have our pack n’ plays, strollers, and car seats! And talk about an exercise in frustration–I knew I wouldn’t have much availability to drop the kid and pick up a guitar or my fiddle. So I decided that for me–and who I am as a mom–it would be better if we stayed at my mom’s while Tim went on.

I have really struggled with this decision–everytime I make it–because my heart screams, GO!!, when I think about the travel and the work that we do when we’re gone. Furthermore, it’s been several years now since I’ve left the country and my travel bug is just not content anymore with hayrides and trips to the zoo. But there are two things I’m reminded of when I catch myself in a state like this, all up in knots like I have been the past few days.

First, this is only for a season. Soon I’ll be crying when Emma graduates to a big girl bed the same way I did with Ellie. In three years they will both be in school and I’ll probably cry then, too. I don’t want to miss these baby years by wishing we were past them or by wishing that I had all of the freedom I was used to before children.

Second, whether or not I get to go to Peru doesn’t tell me who I am. I don’t derive my worth or identity by how many mission trips I get to go on. That’s foolishness. That’s thinking like a slave who must continually strive to prove herself and her place in the Kingdom. I know my place and my worth as a daughter, and I’m not going to let the enemy rob me of this time with my girls by telling me I’m no good if I don’t go on mission trips.

I’ve got to rule those thoughts of mine. Whip them into shape. Embrace this season for what it is and enjoy the opportunity to fully pour myself into my daughters’ lives. So I’ll say again one of my favorite things our friend Doug has taught me: “Ha, Ha, Ha, on you, devil. You’re not going to steal my destiny.”