Trouble is, I have no idea what to say right now. I’m writing because Amazon said, “You’re done. Now go say hello to your customers.” And I’m a first-born, very obedient. I do what I’m told. At least with stuff like this. Okay. So that relates—to our identies and everything. That works, right?

Now I really want to go see where this pops up. You go too! Click here and we shall see.

But I’ll be back to write about moms and their identities soon and very soon.

That little foyer is now organization central. He is ready, I am ready, yet I can guarantee you, I’ll will not be this on top of things and organized for the poor guy again until this time next year. By Tuesday, I’ll be scrambling his lunch at the last minute, yelling at him to look AGAIN next to his bed for his shoes, and wondering where I put that thing I was supposed to sign.

But for now, tonight, I’m feeling like a great mom, who’s got an unbelievably great boy (yes, I know: and a girl and another boy, but we’re not talking about them right now. They don’t get the sap treatment until they go away for nearly eight hours a day!).

Happy First Day of School!

And it just dawned on me that one of the things that frustrates me as a mom is not only that we tend to lose ourselves amidst the chaos of our lives, but often our voices too. I mean, I’ve GAINED the kind of voice I never wanted to have (that “oh my gosh are the windows open? Can the neighbors hear me yelling?” voice), but in many ways, the ability to be heard—in the way I want to be—gets lost. Not totally. But a bit.

But then I realized that motherhood revved up my voice in my writing. I mean, I write a ton more now than I ever did before. So I’ve got that going for me.

I’m wondering what your thoughts are. Has motherhood helped you find your voice or lose it?

But it’s so hot out; I’m so tired; and I gotta tell you, I got nothing. So this is just an update for updates’ sake.

I’ll try to post something more creative or insightful or amusing later. But right now—if it doesn’t start raining that is—I really just want to ride bikes with my fam. 

So here are the rules (they had numbers, but I’m replacing them with my bug bullets for reasons that should be obvious) for the meme, according to Mr. Hsu and the woman who memed him:

• Link to your tagger and post these rules on your blog.
• Share 7 facts about yourself on your blog, some random, some weird.
• Tag 7 people at the end of your post by leaving their names as well as links to their blogs.
• Let them know they are tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

Everything in my life seems random and weird, but here are 7 for you: 

1. This is my first meme, and I spent all day yesterday (when I was tagged) panicking about what I would write. I had to go to Wikipedia because I didn’t even know what a meme was. I thought it was just because I’m a work-at-home, freelancing writer mom sort of out of the loop alone here in my “corner” office that I didn’t know this hip e-term. Turns out it’s been around long enough that I should’ve known what it was. I mean, I guessed pretty correctly because of the nature of the beast of what was happening and that it looks a lot like mimeograph and mime and I’m smart enough to know about words that are related, but still. I feel dumb for not knowing. Which leads to number two.

2. My whole life I’ve been lumped in with the smart kids–honors classes and the like–and to this day I think a lot (certainly not all!) of people think I’m actually a lot smarter than I am. Truth is, I’ve got a good brain, a keen mind, but not a super-smarty one. I spend a lot of time feeling much dumber than the people around me. At least I’m smart enough to surround myself with smart people!

3. I broke my nose in a horse-riding accident a few days after Christopher Reeve’s tragic riding accident. You know I’m a cold, horrible, insensitive person because I got so annoyed every time every doctor, nurse, and regular person said to me (the woman who attended Fourth of July fireworks in Grant Park with a MILLION people and rode the Metra to train in Chicago for a week with a white “cast” over her nose), “Boy, are YOU lucky it was just your nose.” True, of course, but still not the thing to say while pulling packing out of a person’s nose.

4. I’m messy. And it’s getting worse. The harder I work in every other area of my life (and I work HARD as a writer, a speaker, an editor, and a mom—not necessarily in that order), the lazier I get with my house. Something has to give.

5. I just found a Minnie Mouse diary from when I was 10. Apparently, I loved Ricky Schroeder then, which is weird since I remember Jason Bateman being my favorite Silver Spoon. Huh.

6. I just had a moment of writers block so I went outside for a while to play with my kids and I remembered that this morning I saw a five-inch-long dragonfly on my table-umbrella (or whatever those are called). I first saw its shadow on the under-side of the umbrella as I walked back up our deck steps to get my son’s mitt for t-ball. From the size of the shadow, I thought it was going to be a toy. Not so. You should’ve seen this thing (and, if I remember, I’ll upload a photo later): long, brindled-colord scaley body, pokey-pointy feet. Those double lean wings. Totally get why they call them dragon flies now. Awesome. More beautiful even than the sparkly dragon fly necklace I wear.

7. Ah, seven. I loved being seven. It was the first age I felt “grown.” Plus, I was born in July, so that was cool. It’s also when my teacher, Mrs. Waterstraat “published” my book of limericks for the school library and the age when I knew I not only wanted to be a writer, but that I was a writer.

So that’s it, people. Now I’ve got to tag seven other people, which makes me panic too: Do I KNOW seven people with blogs?

• Jonalyn Grace Fincher
• Halee Gray Scott
• Laura Polk
• Janine Petry
• T. Suzanne Eller
• Ed Gilbreath
• Gospel Gal

Okay. So I know seven people (I’m sure I know more—no offense if you think I should’ve included you and didn’t. I’m going with the random theme still). Now I’ve got to let them know.

But the brain and the memory all comes back–and regardless, we can still handle more than the man brain on its best day—and this forgetfulness apparently serves some important purpose. Of course, I can’t remember what that is.

This does NOT come naturally to me. There is, after all, a reason why I’m a writer and not, say, a concert promoter or even a sales person. Selling is not my strong suit, and selling myself fits me even worse (does this analogy line up?).

But since this self-promotion is part of the writing life (at least if you want to succeed at all), I forced myself out of my shy box and into this “here I am!” realm. Everything’s been going fine—I’d gotten into a decent groove—and then I got an email that made me want to crawl back in my little safe box.

The PASTOR of one of the churches I had contacted emailed me back saying never to “solicit” her church again. This sort of thing seriously makes me want to cry. I’m not good at being scolded, and her email sent me into moments of trying to figure out how I might have offended, what I did wrong (I’m only doing what my own MOPS director told me to do….), and how I could make it right.

So now, as I fear checking my in-box for more angry emails from church secretaries, women’s ministry leaders, and pastors alike, and as I second-guess my decision to pimp myself in the first place, I wonder, what moments in your life have you put yourself out there, uneasily, and faced resistance. What did you do?

Oh, and if you’re looking for an obviously unsure and self-depricating speaker (who’s still somehow quite at-ease in front of large groups of strangers), I’m your girl!

Happy Memorial Day!

If you scroll down a couple posts, you’ll see a comment from Dawn, who’s wrestling with church roles. She’s been on my mind a lot lately because I think her note personifies exactly what a lot of us go through in various forms, in various ways. I’ve been wanting to respond to her–you, if you’re reading!–but, of course, me being the lazy blogger that I am, I’ve gotten swamped under the demands of work that pays cold hard cash and, of course, that which pays warm, wet kisses (I mean mothering!).

But I thought of Dawn when I read these words from Carolyn Custis James’ new, fantabulous book, The Gospel of Ruth. In fact, I thought of Dawn, and I thought of myself and every woman I’ve talked to, heard from, or exchanged e-mails with over the course of this true-identity-seeking year. If you’ve wrestled with your “place” in your church, community, or family, hear this:

“A woman’s high calling as God’s image bearer renders her incapable of insignificance, no matter what has gone wrong in her life or how much she has lost. Even if her community shoves her aside, turns a deaf ear to the sound of her voice, or regards her as invisible—even if she is forced into a passive role in the community—she remains vital to God’s purposes and is a solid contributors anyway. She simply cannot be stopped.”

I love that. Of course, it’s something, if we know Jesus and we know he made us on purpose, we know deep down, but a lot of people try to drown that bit of wisdom, try to stop us from living out God’s purposes, so it can be hard to believe.

Dawn, I hope I can talk more later about the whole church-role thing because I have BIG issues here as well. In the meantime, check out “My Door-Slamming Church” at this site and “Let Men Get the Door” at GiftedForLeadership.com. You’ll get the drift of my issues there.

I love it when God is up to something! So here’s what I prayed—sort of an extension of Mama’s Fake ID. More like, my Church’s Got a Fake ID. Here it is. Tell me what you think!

Dear God:

I pray that we as a church learn to look beyond the “groups” to which we belong and to see those individual gifts in each of us. That we see each other as you see us.

Lord, let us be a church that encourages one another in those gifts—no matter what they are—and that builds one another up. So that together we can meet the needs of this world and spread your Good News to the best of our abilities, in the way you created us to do so.

Lord, I pray for those who feel alone, like they don’t belong or fit in. I ask that you open our eyes to those who struggle in these areas and offer them a true, honest welcome. That we show them love for who they are, that we help them find their place among us, and that we help them understand that all of us at times feel like we don’t fit—here or anywhere. But that we always fit with you, Lord. Thank you for that.

Along those lines, I ask that we can get beyond image and façade and be willing to share and to see what is real in each of us. I pray that we as a congregation can be open to sharing our hurts and our shame as a means of sharing your glory and your grace. This requires vulnerability, though Lord, so I ask that we stay safe people—ones who don’t gossip or delight in the wrongdoings or suffering of each other—but ones who protect and support one another.

But in families, that doesn’t always happen. So I pray that you will heal those of this church who have been wounded, disappointed, or let down by fellow brothers and sisters in Christ. Help them forgive and even reconcile where possible.

Same goes for those of us who have had disagreements on issues ranging from what seems silly to serious. While we will never agree on everything this side of heaven (and maybe not even on the other side!) I ask that in these disagreements or discussions, you help us maintain open hearts and open minds, that we maintain integrity, and at all times realize that what we seek to do as a body of Believers is to honor you, to do right by you, to act as we believe you are calling us to do.

So thank you again, Lord, for the magnificent, gifted individuals who make up the people of Elmhurst Christian Reformed Church. I pray that you bless us, protect us, embolden us, shape us, and use each of us in your kingdom, for your glory.