It’s so easy to do. Upload a fabulous picture, post a great caption and click the button on social networking (whichever one you choose to use). Share your perfect life captured in word or photo form. Or sometimes even be willing to share a funny moment or saying, but how often do we share the real stuff? How often do we share the nitty, gritty? That stuff that actually makes us connect as real people and know we’re not alone in our imperfections? I’m as guilty as the next person in your news feed.

     Let me shoot straight with you. I only post the good stuff on purpose, but not because I want you to believe that is the perfect life that I live. I am a real mom with real moments–the pretty ones and the ugly ones alike. My reason is singular in purpose…because life is hard, evidenced in itself by the past two years, and the last thing I need is to read a whole bunch of negativity, whining and crap each day. You see, I can create all of that on my own. I don’t need any extra help in that area from somebody else, thank you very much. Sometimes I post the positive for you…to give you a smile if you need one, but sometimes I do it for me…because I need to focus on the positive or I might just crawl back into bed and wallow in the fetal position.

     You see, we all have our own story and no book should be judged by its cover. For the sake of keeping it real, let me give you a peek inside my story…only a little bit though because full exposure might make you run for the hills never to return. Or the other side of story could be that I fear opening the cover too wide for fear that your thoughts and comments might bring more pain to my already hurting heart. So I’d rather keep the cover to my story closed. It’s easier and safer that way, right? Oh, but then there’s the loneliness when I do that…when I don’t venture to let someone in to join my story. Hmm…what I quandary, right fellow Mama?

     So what exactly is hidden under that gorgeous cover? What you’d see is not the Mama you perceive me to be, instead you’d see someone just like you. Someone who has good days and bad days. You’d see that I relish in the beauty of a large family, but yet sometimes am weighed down by its demands. You’d get a glance at the days I have it together enough to cook from scratch, but then the next when I can’t quite figure out where I’ve left my brain and serve up frozen corn dogs instead. Or even better, the times when I plan out this elaborate 2 week menu and then blow it all to heck because life just isn’t as orderly as I’d like. You’d probably get an earful as you realize that I lose my cool and sometimes yell at my kids too. You might even have the unfortunate pleasure of realizing that I too am one of those sinners just like the Bible says that has praises coming our of her mouth one moment and cuss words like a sailor the next. Just like you, I have moments of pure joy with my children and others when I just wish they’d go away. You’d probably also see those crushing moments when I sit in the car after yet another assessment for our Hidden Treasure and just weep because I am so profoundly blessed to be called her Mama, but yet her needs are so great that I am overwhelmed with where to even start to help her reach her fullest potential…whatever that looks like.

     The very real me has six children, each with their own personalities, but two extra special little girls that have some issues that I rarely talk about on social networking. If you are one of those people that has been written into the pages of my story then you know what most don’t. I have a daughter that should have a vocabulary of 300+ words, but instead only has 15-20, thus forcing our family to learn ASL to communicate until we figure out if she truly has speech apraxia or not and what we’re going to do about it. You’d see that she makes little eye contact and rocks to comfort herself. You’d notice that she never stops moving because she has sensory issues and that is how she deals with overstimulation–by constantly moving. And when she meets you, she might sniff your arm hair, rub the hair on your head soothingly or if you’re lucky, she’ll lift up your shirt and take a gander at your stomach.

     And then there’s her sister who will charm your socks off, but if you stick around for awhile, you’ll start to notice that she is very forgetful and cannot cognitively reason to save her life. You might even notice that although she’s 8, she’s not really 8. And learning to read? Every school day is a new day to her with fresh new info. Insert the banging of my head against the wall here.

     We all have parts of our lives that we do not share openly. Why do we do that? Why not carefully find that balance so that we don’t lean too much on the positive or negative side, but instead share openly right down the middle so that we can find that we are not alone, supporting and encouraging one another? I think it’s fear. Fear of being judged by others or thinking we are surely the only person in the world to think, feel or be going through something. Well, I’m here to tell you that that thought pattern is a lie and one I too can easily fall into. Introverted me can easily isolate myself and keep people staring at my book cover instead of letting them join in my story. Scripture even mentions that there is nothing we are going through that is not common to man. How silly or maybe even prideful to think that we are surely the only one that has ever walked the earth with problems such as ours?

     On the flip side, when someone lets us take a peek inside their pages, and we stand on our throne and offer judgement…why do we do that? I don’t know about you, but when I take the tentative, scary step to share a piece of my heart with someone, I am looking for connection. I am looking to know that I’m not the only one. I’m looking for grace and definitely not someone to look down their nose at me. I’m looking for someone who acknowledges their imperfections and accepts me in mine to walk this beautiful, yet often hard thing called life.