Author: Alyssa Gluck (Page 2 of 4)

I’ve been amazed lately at the magic that can happen around a table. When you invite someone to join you for a meal – the sacred happens-eyes turn from screens to eye to eye contact,  conversations tend to go deeper, stories are told, family recipes are shared, and time stands still for a bit. This year our family has tried to be more intentional about extending invites and having “community dinners” around OUR worn table.  It’s my favorite to see people of all different ages, ethnicity, circles, and backgrounds sitting together and sharing a common meal.

Imagine what it must have been like to be around the table with Jesus that Last Passover Supper?

Over Christmas we were visiting family in Tennessee. We went to their small, new church one Sunday. It was a  morning I was feeling down for some reason and fighting my demons of insecurity.   I got nervous when I heard they were having “communion” that morning.   I had noticed upon entering the multi-purpose room that in a side wing there was a long rugged wooden table set up with bread and large silver goblets of grape juice. We we were instructed that when we were ready, we were to go sit at the table and take the elements.

In a  new environment with people I didn’t know – I kind of wanted to just hide a little.  I didn’t feel like I belonged around that table with the rest of these folks who shared life together.

But then I heard the pastor say “Around the table – ” all are welcome.”

And just after that comment, my middle boy grabbed my hand and said, “let’s go mom.” He led me over to the table and we pulled up a knobby wooden chair.  And there beside me was an elderly older man, and next to me, my 8 year old son, and at the end a teenage girl rolled up in her wheelchair. And tears filled my eyes and I smiled… “All are welcome at the table.” We’re family here.

I closed my eyes and imagined it was Peter sitting there, and John across the table, and then Jesus there in the center. What a motley crew Jesus had gathered around him! He chose the unpopular tax collectors, smelly fishermen, and even a man he knew would be disloyal to him later. I’m guessing they probably shared many meals together and somehow this ragamuffin bunch had become friends.

 And all of a sudden it donned on me….I had been invited to that table too.  There was room for me.

“And Jesus took the bread“, that familiar staple at every Passover meal (like Gramma’s homemade rolls at Christmas). “And he gave thanks and he broke it. This is my body broken for you.”

His friends had never thought of the bread like this before.  It symbolized Jesus, who would be broken and killed for all of us.

“And he took the cup, and said, ‘this is my blood poured out for you.’ “That dark, crimson red. No longer just wine, but a symbol of what he went through to make us clean, to overlook our impurities, to invite us to the table to be with Him.

So this Easter, as you pull up a chair and gather around a table, remember that YOU were chosen to sit with Jesus. He pictured YOU there beside Him. It’s the message of communion and Easter – to be WITH Him.

He’s made a place for you.

You’ve been invited.

He gives you a sense of belonging.

“But YOU are a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a people belonging to God.

That you may declare the praises of Him who called you out of darkness into His wonderful light.”

I Peter 2;9

–Alyssa

The FINAL COUNTDOWN…ba, da, da, da….ba da, duh, duh, duh. Insert glam guitars, pyrotechnics, fireworks. (Geico commercial has us all envisioning the scene).  48 hours before the much awaited (dreaded?) Christmas morning.  Anticipation is strong and concurrently so is our stress. School is out. Kids are home. Expectations are high. To-do lists are long. Events are plenty. Like an Olympic athlete we have trained for this event…We are ready to multi-task like we are three people in one body.

Let’s do this- dig deep friends. Wrap that present. Visit the Dollar Store (again! and greet your favorite checker who now knows you by name).  Plan those holiday meals.  Grab your concealer and dab up those bags under the eyes, put on some bright red lipstick and boom! Smile bright for those family pics.  Sing it with me…”It’s the most wonderful time of the year.”

As a child, I remember mama always falling asleep while the last presents were being opened at night- that perplexed me. Now that I’m a parent I totally get it. It’s exhausting.

Ya’ll-  I write to you from a white cozy couch in Tennessee (hence the “ya’lls”). To be real-  it’s three days before Christmas and I am totally in chill mode. Don’t be jealous- I was on that hamster wheel a week ago when we were packing for a 2 week vacation and celebrating Christmas with our clan 12 days early.  I feel you. The struggle is real.

Today, though I write from the comfort of my in-law (love)’s home. My kids are all happily on screens around me (don’t judge me- they’re quiet). The window blinds are wide open wide to welcome in the rays of sunshine after the morning rain. Large pines surround the brick home and every window presents a view that could be a painting in an art gallery.

I think of you.  I wonder where you’re finding yourself on this final countdown.  I’m guessing you don’t even have time to read this. But for a moment join me on this couch with a piping cup of hot tea.

Here’s what I’ve learned this Christmas. It’s about WONDER: “wonders of His love.” Slowing our quickened pace. Looking deep into the eyes. Really listening. Noticing the beauty. God’s fingerprints- they’re all around us. In the handmade gift your littles made you at school. In the real hug you get from the family member you’ve had tension with. In the song that for some reason hits you different this year. In the tears you cry behind closed doors. In the smell of pine or cookies fresh from the oven.  In the crisp cold air of a winter morning. It’s HIS gifts to us. His little ways of saying “I am here. I see you. You are loved.”

Do you see Him? Do you you hear Him?

When our boys were tiny- we added a baby girl to the mix. I remember thinking our house was basically a nursery. I’d carry one baby on my hip then rush around the house picking up this or that with my toes, cooking, cleaning, playing matchbox cars, and always keeping one hand available to tickle, scold, or redirect my boys. With all the activity around, the baby girl on my hip knew it took a lot for me to actually stop and fully pay attention to her. She likes FULL attention. So…even as a mere babe she’d grab my face with her two  chubby hands and physically turn  my head to look her in the eyes. It was the only way for her to know I was FULLY WITH her.  She still does it even at age five.

I wanna grow in this – be less distracted. God knows it takes a lot for me to slow and fully be present.  This season, I’ve sensed Him grabbing my cheeks, turning my head, lifting my chin to look up into His eyes.  I’m seeing His fingerprints in creation, in the people around me.  It’s the WONDERS OF HIS LOVE. They’re there. Do we see them?

“The whole earth is filled with awe at your wonder; where morning dawns, where evening fades, you call forth songs of joy.” Psalm 65:8

I don’t know where you find yourself in this FINAL COUNTDOWN. I think of you all- spinning the many plates like you do. From Tennessee I send you a big strong hug. Let my little girl’s chubby hands remind you to take moments to slow, allow yourself to feel a sense of WONDER when God reminds you to stop and take things FULLY in. In the little things remember that you are loved.

It’s in the final countdown of these sacred days I will pray for you and for me that amidst the CRAY-CRAY God will  “show us the wonders of His great love” (Psalm 17:7)

Last Monday morning was not pretty in our house.

For some reason 3 out of 5 of us woke up on the wrong side of the bed and grumpiness factor was high as we prepared for school. Throwing lunches together, making sure clothes were on, teeth  brushed, water bottles filled we frantically rushed through the morning. There were grumblings and arguments and my heart was racing by the time I collapsed into the front seat and pulled my seatbelt over my shoulder.

I pulled out of the driveway I glanced at the clock and realized we actually were running a few minutes earlier than usual (I guess the clock I was going by in my bathroom had been wrong- note to self: change the battery asap). Anyhow I turned on some music loudly to try and replace the tension-filled air with noise. I was not looking forward to this day and all it held. I had packed too many “to-dos” in my calendar and was already feeling the stress.

I drove up the street and then as I turned the corner headed towards school my eyes locked on a gorgeous sight. The lush green grass of the middle school field was decorated with a light dusting of mist. The clouds were thick against the ground in a magical kind of way and there the sun broke through on the horizon. It’s rays reached out piercing through the fog and illuminating hope of a new day. And for a minute it took my breath away. My kids saw it too…”Wow.” And then my sensitive spirited middle boy spoke up “mom- look what God made for us.”

I was blown away by the beauty. Knowing we had a few extra minutes before school started I pulled the car over into the parking lot. I turned off the noise of the radio and the kids and I sat and took it in. The warmth of the sun rays against the grass. The piercing of the light through the mist. The beauty of water droplets hanging on the edge of blades of grass. Wow.

It was a reminder that there is a God bigger than us.

That every morning- his mercies are new.

That occasionally we are floundering around and He stops us in our tracks to LOOK UP.

For a moment, the messy past doesn’t matter – we are reminded who we are in light of who God is.

He can be seen in the artwork HE crafts around us each day.

“The heavens declare the glory of God.

The skies proclaim the works of his hands.”

Psalm 19:1

Sometimes it pays to just pull over and stop. To WONDER in awe at the mystery of our God. To feel the sun’s warmth and breathe in deep.

As we run,  spin plates, and cross things off our to-do lists today, may we remember to occasionally look up.

(photo credit: Jessica Gantenbein)

May He surprise you with a moment of wonder today.

-Alyssa

Last Friday was Apple Day in kindergarten. When the yellow parent volunteer sheet came home I signed up right away. If there was a big day for my kid- I want to be there. (Our intentions are so good right?)

But then -life, and overcommitting myself, and trying to get the groove in my new job and schedule. And “Apple Day Eve” it was made clear that  I needed to work instead of going to Apple Day. So I sat down with my blue-eyed beauty and explained that mommy wasn’t going to be able to come after all, and that I was so sorry. She was quiet for awhile and then said, “I’m afraid I’ll be sad when I see the other moms…. but it’s ok, mom.”

Dagger!

I swallowed hard, then reassured her I would be in her class for the next event (WHICH I ADDED TO MY CALENDAR IN CAPITAL, BOLD LETTERS).  And then the inner dialogue began. “What kind of mother are you? How could you choose work over your daughter’s big day?  You won’t get this opportunity back. Are you choosing your work over her? ” And so on and so on and so on…

Mommy guilt. The struggle is real.  And sisters, WE AIN’T GOT NO TIME FOR THIS. It’s destroying us.

I’ve been in conversations with many different mamas the past couple weeks and in listening I’ve noticed a common thread:  Mommy GUILT.  These are moms I admire with good kids. But I’m discovering they struggle with guilt as much as I do. One mom who has grown kids mentioned she regrets the moments she “missed” when her son was little. A mom of a newborn commented on the struggle she feels when she needs to make dinner, but it means putting the baby down for a few minutes.  The stay-at-home mom  feels like she should be pursuing her dreams so she can model to her kids how to fulfill their callings. The mom of school aged kids who is working full time feels guilty that she can’t volunteer at her kids’ school.

It’s either we aren’t doing enough, or we’re doing too much. Our inner critic is ruthlessly attacking our soul.  Kim Fredrickson, author of “Give Yourself a Break” says…”When our shortcomings and mistakes are met with self-judgment and condemnation, we experience a lack of hope and begin to shut down emotionally.”  We experience shame for our guilt and we feel alone – like we’re the only one feeling this way.

Maybe there is power in coming out of that self-condemning darkness and into the light. We are not alone.

Yes, it’s important to prayerfully align our priorities with our lifestyle, re-evaluate often, be committed to GROWTH, and apologize when we make mistakes.

But, sisters can we show ourselves some grace???

I wonder how God our father feels when he hears us berating ourselves. Probably like we do when we hear our precious kids talking down on themselves. “No baby…you are amazing. Yes, you made a mistake, but you are still dearly loved. Don’t believe those lies.”  He sings over us Romans 8:1 “Therefore there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.”  Isaiah 40:11 says of God- “He tends his flock like a shepherd; He gathers the lambs in his arms and carries them close to his heart; he gently leads those who have young.”

Let’s be real that none of us are perfect. Really…not even the gal who is “put together” everyday with her four beaming children who stand in age order beside her. She fails her kids too. She struggles with the same questions you and I do.

Let’s thank our moms for doing the best they could with us.

Let’s celebrate the victories in our mothering and cheer for each other.

Because here’s the raw truth: you were  chosen to be mom of your specific kids. We will all make mistakes. But they’re  gonna turn out alright..

We’ll give our best and then have a savings fund ready for our kids’ therapy funds when they need it.

I see you. You’re loving well. You’re doing the best you can with what’s before you.

Let your Heavenly Father remind you that you are dearly loved in your imperfection and your not done growing.

And at the end of the day you can hang your hat on this : you’re a good mom.

–Alyssa