Gladacious Tuesday

You might've seen a picture like this on my Facebook page. But now you get the goods. The backstory, as it were. The skinny. The deal.


At 7:43 a.m. on Sunday, I received a text from Alisa (cute blonde to my right, on your left) asking if I would like to come to the pre-game (Seahawks v. Cardinals) with her to go onto the field and watch her sign the National Anthem. And my answer--hello Jack Black--"Chuh!" After some last minute scrambling with kids and hubs, not only was I able to go to the pre-game events/practice with Alisa, but Big was invited to use her hubby's ticket to watch the game, while Alisa gave me her ticket. Her hubby was home with their 1.5 year old son, Sweet Boy, since SB was snuffly. She was interpreting for one of her former (deaf) students. The student got the honor of signing the Anthem, while watching Alisa interpret the pace and phrasing from the sideline. All that make sense?

Okay...so let me be frank. The best part of the whole day was being on the field and having hurry-up-and-wait time with my friend. The game? Well, it pretty much blew. However, it was an NFL game, gifted to me. I got some much appreciated date time with my hubby, and garlic fries might've been consumed. So other than the score, I had no complaints. :)

Though the field time was awesome, I think I might be most gladdy for the hurry-up-and-wait-time in the green room and wandering the stadium prior to the game.


Because we got to catch up.


And be friends. Who happen also to be moms.


Moms who aren't perfect, and moms who get so sick (channeling Bill Cosby here: "and tired") of putting on that fascade of "Hi, howareyou?I'mfine!Everything'sgreat!Don'tyouwishyouwereputtogetherjustlikeme?", and able to be real.


Real sharing about how motherhood is the best imaginable thing in our worlds--and also rocks it the hardest.


Real sharing about how we try to stand firmly on the foundation of living for and pleasing God, caring only about what He thinks, while we teeter toward the edges of (and often fall into) the sin of comparing ourselves to others, believing lies about performance and how it relates to our worth as moms and as human beings. And realizing how hard it is NOT to do this, since often, we are in community with other moms. Or at least we read about them or watch them on TV.


Sharing about how we feel guilty about that. And that we really want to do a good job. But that, Lord, God--sometimes, we're tired.


So, I'm terrifically glad about Sunday. Because even though I wasn't at church, I had observed a Sabbath in many ways. We played. We laughed. We got a little teary. And God lifted our heads for another day. We rested in him. Both the mother of the pubescent angsters and the mother of the toddler. Together. In His peace.

On another post, I'll tell you all about how Alisa sings like Amy Grant an angel. That we've been in choir for about 3 years on and off together, and what an awesome experience it's been getting to know her and her fam. But I'm savoring this for now.