I keep saying I'm going to start going to bed earlier. That I'll shut off the TV, the lights, and the computer before 11pm and catch my full eight hours before any of my children are tapping me on the shoulder asking about breakfast or Super Mario Bros.

That I will do what's right and proper in Mommyland and be an early to bed, early to rise, Proverbs 31 woman.

The truth is, when I do manage an early bed time I am usually just called back out by the needs of one of my children in the middle of the night. So tonight as I debated an 11pm cup of coffee or bedtime my oldest son made the decision for me when I heard him stumble out of bed making a sound that breaks a mother's heart. The all to familiar sound of closing bronchi and my sweet baby struggling for breath.

I couldn't help but think how much I hate this for him. Hate to see him hurting for something so basic as air to breathe. It seems so unfair. Only, to him, it's just how things are. It's just a part of his life to need breathing treatments in the night. I am so glad for him that it's only "as needed" and not a part of everyday. If it were, however, he would just do it. He doesn't know any different and he doesn't really know he's being short changed.

If anything it's a special time for him. Awake in the quite, getting his back scratched and drinking hot cider after his treatment. A little time just he and I. For him, it's special.

I could learn a lot from my boy.
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It seems funny to me that, at nearly 33 years old, it's hard to know how to take a compliment. I mean, shouldn't I be able to just say "Thank You" and take it in and know I am good at something? Why do I feel like that makes me prideful, like I have to apologize for thinking I've done well?

It's so much easier to play the tapes in my head that tell me I am less. That I am not any of the special things that God has created. That my gifts are somehow less valuable, less special. Just less. Easier to tell myself my impact is small and meaningless.

This is one of my fears, and one I've only recently realized I still carry. That I will live my life and not make an impact. That I will live and die and when I am gone the world will be no different for me having been here.

When I was a child I wanted to be a star. Huge Academy Award winning actress. I wanted everyone to know my name. Even then, I wanted to matter.

The reality is I will probably never win an Oscar. I will continue to be a stay-at-home mom to my children and a wife to my husband. I will continue to serve God. The world will probably never know much about a Southern California girl named Alexis. But my family will know me, my friends, my church they will know me.

It is my goal to be someone who's life points people to God. That even after I am standing before Him, face to face, Eden in my arms again, my life will still be glorifying Him. This is what it is to truly matter. What it is to make a lasting impact.

The world may never know my name, but My God already does.
I wish there was a way I could blog from the shower. It seems like that's the only time I really get to think. It's where I have some serious aha moments, and where I find it easiest to connect with God. It's a beautiful combination of being alone, white noise, relaxation, and yummy relaxing smells. And did I mention being alone?

Tonight, for example I escaped to the shower while my three kids ran the house. I'm not sure what exactly they were doing but nothing burned down, no one was bleeding when it was over, and the screaming was dulled by the sound of the shower beating down on the glass shower all in all, it was a great 10 minutes. While I was there my mind wandered and I was able to ponder so many things...

I thought a lot about my current bible study, about the seemingly minute details that keep popping out at me. Evidence of the spiritual journey behind me and the exciting (if not slightly terrifying) adventure before me.

I stood there and thought about the precipice I am standing on right now. In the past 10 or 12 years I have come to notice a pattern of growth in my life. It's not something I ever enjoy, but it's a familiar feeling. When I quiet myself and sit in the presence of God I feel this stirring of my spirit. Not that beautiful sensation of communing totally with God, but an anxious feeling reminiscent of being interrogated under a hot white light. The feeling that someone is scrutinizing every inch of my soul. Turning on every light and revealing the hidden corners of my very soul.

I recognize the feeling and what I want to do is run. Run like my life depends on it. Get far away from this uncomfortable feeling. Just escape it all together.

This time I am doing everything I can to sit. To sit and wait on God. To trust that I am being led through this forest into a prairie of unimagined blessings... because I know that's how God works with me. I have never been aware that this was the sign so I have never truly experienced the vulnerability of this step. I have tried to hide. Tried to fix. Tried to work through. But this time? This time I am going to let God lead and I will follow with my blindfold on.

I am afraid of the snares along the journey, but I will trust that He Who Loves Me Most is guiding me.
I just tucked a handful of kisses and an armload of hugs into my pockets. Kisses flung from the little step that leads to the upper level of our house, flung by a little girl who is going to be grown before I even blink.

These kisses were fought for. Not tonight, but it seems everyday brings new challenges with her. Everyday we seem to butt heads a little more. So it's these moments where we can find reconnection that keep us both going.

It seems like this aspect of our relationship sprouted over night, and at times it breaks my heart. She is not bad or disobedient, really. It's just a special kind of tension between mothers and daughters. A tension I once thought I was never going to experience, but here it is.

In quiet moment, when I really think about it, I'm kind of proud of her fierce determination. Proud that she has such a strong sense of self, that she'll not be swayed even by her own mother. I can only hope I have had some of the honor of imparting that to her. And I can only pray that I will be obedient to God in helping to mold that into the dynamic woman of God she is called to be.

I am amazed everyday at these little people that God has entrusted to my care. Amazed at the profound responsibility to parent them and that He chose me to do it.

That El Roi, the God Who Sees Me, believes in me enough to give me this great honor...and I thank God for that.