Yesterday, I needed to spend time working on the boudoir session I did Wednesday since I have a session coming up tomorrow and I don’t want to fall behind in the editing department.  Caterpillar is (finally!) getting to the age where there are moments where he is a little more content, so I brought out the playdoh to try to stretch those few moments, into workable time.

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As I watched the kids dig in and begin stretching and molding the colored clay into whatever their hearts desired, I couldn’t help but reminded of some of the things we talked about at the MOPS retreat this past weekend and one of the concepts that as a group we all want to to feel this year is stretched.

We want to feel God pulling us into our positions, stretching conversations and molding relationships that are just a tad bit outside of the comfortable.  Even in the uncomfortable that comes with being genuine and transparent, at the end of the day our leadership team came out closer, stronger and more prepared for the challenges that will come.  I am excited about what is yet to be.

And without doubt, whenever I am looking ahead towards something I make sure that I reflect on the past.  I want God to see me as pliable.  Someone who is not afraid of change, and the mistakes that come when forging ahead.

That got me thinking about when I first started staying home with Monkey.  It was such a hard time because although it had been a lifetime goal, when the time finally arrived, I felt out of place.  Like I didn’t have any business being a stay at home mom.  I felt underqualified for a job that had no pay.

It reached a point where I didn’t even know what to pray for any more.  So I prayed for Gods will.  That was it.  I gave myself to him every day and said ‘do with me what you will’.  As Daddy likes to say it was simple, but not easy.

But it was life changing.

This smile tells me so:

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There are many days where I pray this same prayer in the shower (as you know, it’s where I get my God on…).

Do with me what you will.

I have finally reached a point where I am starting to feel less stretching than molding.

I am beginning to take shape.  As a mother, wife and woman.  You’d think being 32 years old, I would have gotten a clue before now.  I guess I’m just a late bloomer.

Or too bossy to listen.

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I no longer wonder where she gets it from.