Stuck in the Middle

I am a middle child from a middle income family, born and raised on a farm in the middle of nowhere.  I now live with my husband and child in the middle of the country, in the middle of our state, in the middle of our neighborhood.  I am in the middle of motherhood, homemaking my way to middle age one peanut butter and jam sandwich at a time. 

Beginnings are exciting and endings are sad, but the middle holds all the work.  The middle can be messy and it doesn’t get the glam shot.  It’s like middle school: perpetual drama that lands you somewhere between baby and babe, miniature and man, confused about your identity, and clueless as to what the future holds.   

Our country is in the middle of a hot mess, and I find myself frustrated.  I see the news, I read the reports, and I wonder what is going to happen to this land and the people I love.  The economy is a disaster, the welfare state a disgrace, and the government a joke.   

Our Constitution is hanging by a thread. 

Some see it.  Some don’t.  And some choose to ignore it.  Why is that? Maybe we’re too busy.  Busy driving our cars, watching our shows, pinning our projects, posting our preferences, tweeting our thoughts.  Or maybe we’re too tired.  Tired of fighting, tired or trying, tired of caring, tired, tired, tired.
Busy and tired; true hallmarks of the middle.

Whatever the reason, I don’t think it will stand.  Where much is given, much is required and we have been blessed the most. Providence has extended liberties to us that the majority of mankind have never tasted. (For an excellent read on this subject, I suggest Chris and Ted Stewart’s book The Miracle of Freedom: Seven Tipping Points that Saved the World)  What are we doing with them?  Somehow, I don’t think busy and tired will suffice when we have to explain to the Puritan pilgrims or Founding Fathers how we managed to barter our birthright for a mess of materialism.   

So what are we to do?  We can’t clean the House of Representatives or the coffers of Congress.  We can’t balance the budget.  We can’t defend our borders.   But we can clean our house, balance our budgets, and defend our own.     
We can reclaim the White House by restoring our homes and the families in them. 

 You might not change the world, but don’t let that stop you from changing your world.  Be the change you want to see.  Join me over the next forty days as I endeavor to clean up my heart and home, balance my priorities and resources, and defend my values. 

My husband’s Grandfather used to say “You’re with me, I’m not with you.” God doesn’t pick sides or play favorites.  He is who He is.  We aren’t going to win Him to our side—we can only win by getting on His side.  If He is really our God, we must be His people.