I slipped out of my mommy skin tonight.

For three stolen hours I remembered who I am apart from the small hands that pull on me and the high pitched voices that only know me as mommy and not as Lisa-Jo.

I sat in a dark theater and exhaled the Destin and diaper changes and three am feedings as four women poured music into my soul. My friend, Anja, said it made her want to sing.
It made me want to fly.

To absorb the art with every pore of my body in that room with twelve other mothers sitting in our row was to be reborn in ways I’d forgotten I needed. Often Pete tries to remind me that we are more than parents. That we need more than parenting.

It’s easy for moms to forget that there is life outside of their motherhood.

Tonight I sat in my tired cowboy boots and woke up to the flavors of life I’d forgotten. I wanted to eat the music.

There is hard and desperate in the world. But there is also hope and joy set to music. And tonight both flooded my mama self and washed parts of it away until the me who helped make those children and isn’t just consumed by raising them emerged. The me who believes Jesus delights in the talents He gave us and that when we pour them out into the world He is filled with joy.

I believe there is nothing boring about the Christ-man who was there when His Father painted the world into being with just His words. He is the master artist, maker, creator, singer into life of all things.

Tonight I heard echoes of Him in the voices of the women who sang. And they didn’t sing a single worship song.

…whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable–if anything is excellent or praiseworthy–think about such things. Philippians 4:8.

Run, my tired friends. Run into moments of beauty and truth and excellence wherever you can find them.

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Whether they be in the movie theater or a book store or a small art house theater. Whether they be in front of an easel, in your kitchen or your back yard.

Run into truth set to music and loveliness captured through a camera lens.

Whether they be at the beach or high up in a mountain crevice. Whether they be in an afternoon spent writing letters or listening to a poet. Whether they be in a coffee shop or a church.

Run and spend time remembering you were once a woman before you were a mom.

And I promise you will return to your motherhood refreshed.