This is Real Life

A diaper explosion/outfit change at midnight.  Kid #1 comes down with a fever by 1am.  A spit-up catastrophe around 4am.  Everyone is up by 6-something.  Kid #2 has a fever by 7am.  I have a doctor's appointment at 8:15 and the baby cries the whole way there.

This is not an exceptional day.  This is not out of the ordinary, not really.  This is just LIFE.

We like to think that these days come with extra patience and feelings of triumph that keep us on our toes when an inkling of complacency sets in.  But, really, truly, this is the nitty gritty that is the building blocks for all things good and weird in the world of parenting.

I used to think there was a chapter missing in my proverbial parenting manual when days like these would occur.  I would imagine other mothers caring for their less-whiny-than-my-own sick children and happily nursing in the middle of the night with the energy of an Olympian.  Somewhere around the second kid it dawned on me that maybe all other parents really were as tired as I was.  Maybe this is what it's all about - this rapid-action chaos that adds up into years that leap by with a glance.

sick kiddos

multi-tasking

So, here it is.  The junk you won't see on Instagram to shame your own crazy-laden-lives.  We got kids, we got needs, we got Jesus (hallelujah!)  This means life is a MESS and totally worth living.  This means spit-up on my clothes has value and beauty.  This means Redboxing Barbie movies before noon is an act of compassion.  This means typing this blog one-handed while nursing (true story) keeps me humble and honest and grateful for those other parents out there one-handing their own battles.

bills, burp cloths, coffee - YES.

my (grocery shopping) hero

Purpose rarely comes with glamour.  These days might carry stress and frustration, but they are no less marked with value than the happy, predictable moments we so often long for.

God, keep me still in these times.  Help me see the beauty in the mess and the value in the chaos.  Thank you for the trials and the triumphs, and teach me how to show my children the importance of both!

Baby It's [Bitter] Cold Outside

We live in Nashville, TN.  "The South". A location known for its humidity in the summer and it's "Tender Tennessee Christmas" in the winter.

I've been duped.

This week was anything but tender to my thin, moved-here-from-California blood.  Granted, we don't live in New England where there are FEET of snow and ice piling up - I feel for them (no, I literally do, considering they must surely all be numb by now - I can NOT imagine).

We're going on our fifth "snow day" in a row here.  School has been canceled all week, I interned at the counseling center a few hours yesterday, but that's been it.  Otherwise, our world has consisted of adjusting the thermostat, layering sweatshirts, and cooking pantry creations I would otherwise deem inedible beyond these circumstances.

It's not been all bad.  Honestly, I LOVE a reason to be an introvert for a week.  I love to hunker down and hermit-it-out in front of Netflix and give myself permission to drink hot chocolate in bed while I start yet another episode of Parenthood (I'm new to the series, so no spoilers, please).

Meanwhile, my husband has braved the icy terrain of our yard with our two daughters, teaching them important life lessons like "don't lick the swing set" and "icicles are not for throwing".  Luckily, I had found two snowsuits at a consignment sale last year and I'm forever grateful I purchased them when I did, not knowing if they would ever get much use here.

As I handed my husband two giant cake pans to fashion into toddler-sleds, I became instantly overwhelmed by the thought that THIS is exactly what childhood memories are made of:  holed-up family time, getting creative and resourceful, resting in the comfort of home.  (Okay, maybe I've been watching too much Parenthood.)  Forced at-home days are the perfect remedy for the too-busy soul.

It's easy to get restless - not just on snow days, but in LIFE!  It's easy to think more about what I should be doing that what I get to be doing.  It's easy to look out the window and only see a stark world, dangerous and full of risks not worth taking.  Rest is necessary.  Down time and togetherness are essential.  And adventures never come without risks.  I too often overlook the importance of these things, and I'm grateful for the forced-homebodiness that was implemented into our family this week.

But, while it's been the coziest week ever, I'm also glad that spring is on the way.  (You are coming, aren't you spring?)

It's hard to find the balance of busy/productive/independent and rest/relaxation/together-time.  Ya feel me?  I love both, I need both, and I hope if this week has taught me anything it's to appreciate both for what they are and how they serve recursively in my life.  Too much of the one takes away from the other.

So, if you're climbing the walls ready to kick your kids out into the yard and actually looking forward to the next trip to the grocery store simply cause it means you'll get to leave the house - sit tight, hold on, and count your blessings like the tiny little snowflakes that they are - unique...beautiful...sometimes a mess.

Winter won't last forever.  We might as well make memories that will.

The Story Behind the Big News: I'm Pregnant!

Yep, in case you haven't heard, I'm expecting my third baby.  Baby Pardy #3 is on the way, due to arrive mid-August!

We broke the news publicly yesterday, with this genius announcement made by my husband.

But, of course, we knew several weeks prior to the ultrasound pic that the course of Pardy history was forever changed.  We were lucky enough to find out before Christmas, making it the gift-of-all-gifts to give our parents on Christmas day.  Unfortunately, we didn't get to see them in person, but we sent gifts ahead of time, and included this surprise-revealing frame to break the news.

As we Skyped with our parents, we had them open the gift on cue and got to see their reactions at the same time.  (Ain't technology grand?)

Telling our girls the big news might have been the most memorable, however.  I told them "We have small gift for you and some big news!" then proceeded with the following announcement caught on tape.  I'll warn you, it doesn't quite end the way I anticipated!  (Seriously, watch to the end for a cringe-worthy laugh.)

We are beyond thrilled to share our joy with you all.  And to streamline all your FAQs I've decided to just jump into the answers and spare you the awkward moment of not knowing how to ask what you really want to know.  I get it.  And as I grow to the size of a small planet, I'm well-prepared to tackle awkward encounters.

Was it a surprise or planned?
Have you met me? Yes, it was planned.  However, it was also quite a surprise that we struck gold on our first try.  I count this an incredible blessing and luxury in my life, to have had the opportunity to choose to "open the door" so to speak and then also to be instantly gratified.  I have many close friends who have been on either side of the spectrum, either waiting and longing for a child or shocked by a surprise blessing.  All that to say, I don't take for granted the fact that this was altogether easy for us this round, and yet completely acknowledge that I retain zero credit over the fact this miracle occurred when it did.  It's all God's timing, folks, that I know for sure.

What about school?
Speaking of timing, one of the main reasons we decided to go for baby #3 now was that I would be out of school.  In fact, I will finish all of the curriculum for my MMFT (Masters in Marriage & Family Therapy) by the end of July, just a few weeks before this baby arrives.  I'm doing my utmost to complete all of my client hours by then as well.  In fact, if I have one non-health-related prayer request, it's that I can somehow finish all of my client hours in time so that I don't have to worry about picking up extra hours after the baby comes.  I keep telling myself that it won't be the end of the world if that happens, but I will admit it keeps me up at night sometimes wondering how it will all come together.  All in all, the hardest part will be over with (the coursework) and I'm just trusting God to tackle the rest!

What's the due date exactly?
The official due date is August 19th.  But, because this will be my third C-section, this sucker will be scheduled on the calendar.  My husband's birthday is August 16th, and so, per his own request if everything is safe and healthy, the baby will be born on his birthday!  That's right, Josh wants to share his birthday.  Many can't believe this, but honestly I think he is just hoping we will remember it is his birthday if he has our baby born on it.  Haha.  So, obviously safety and healthy baby/mama come first, but if all goes well, then we will have a double-birthday celebration on August 16th!

How am I feeling?
Miserable and blissful.  Icky and happy.  I'm kind of fighting the cold-of-the-century right now, so I'm extra full of complaints at the moment.  (Seriously, they can put a man on the moon but they can't create a cold medicine for pregnant women?)  I'm one of the luckier pregnant gals who doesn't barf every morning.  I just feel seasick most of the day and exhausted as usual.  I want to eat cheeseburgers all the time and can't stand the smell of coffee.  Otherwise, I'm really pretty good.  And yeah, I'm already belly popped at 9 weeks.  I should be building up my own gravitational pull within a few weeks now.

Are you hoping for a boy?
I love and hate this question.  The easy answer is "yes".  It's fun to picture something new like a boy being added to our family, but it's also an unknown realm!  Sure, for many reasons we would be stoked to have a boy.  After two girls, a boy would be an exciting change and would keep the Pardy name rocking for another generation to come.  Also, it would be a lot easier name-wise cause I've pretty much used up all the girl names I think I love.
That being said, I can't quite imagine life with a son.  I adore my daughters and adding another girl would be seemingly easier and thrilling for my girls, plus there's all the hand-me-downs that would await her.
I will rejoice at the news of either and I will grieve the twinge of loss at the news of either because I'm honest and enjoy this phase where both dreams are alive and well.  
Asking me what gender baby I want is like asking me "Do you want your lottery winnings in one giant lump sum or spread out over the rest of your life?"  It's a win-win and it's gonna be the best ever either way!  And yes, we will find out the gender, probably around the end of March.

Are you crazy?
Yes.  I've never argued this.  As my daughter Matilda realized the other night, "Mom.  This means three kids.  We're going to need more grown ups."  Tell me about it!  I think we always knew we wanted more than two kids, and for all known current intentions, this will be our last baby.  We debated most of the fall whether a third kid was in our future, and the discussion quickly turned to a "now or later" discussion more than a "now or never".  So, it just felt like it made sense to pull the band-aid off faster, get all the crazy over with early, tackle the youngsters while we are youngish, etc.  Honesty, there's no right or wrong way to build a family.  And we couldn't have predicted how quickly we would have gotten pregnant either.  So, there you have it.  We dove head first into crazy, and now we are excited to be outnumbered by our children.  It will be hard.  It will be LOUD.  It will be a challenge unlike any other, and we've no expectation this is a walk in the park.  It's more like a trudge through a snowstorm with chimpanzees climbing all over you.  Still, it's an adventure, and we're stoked to be part of it.

Prayer Requests?
Thanks for asking!  Yes, of course any prayers for a healthy baby would be most appreciated.  Prayers for our family as we finish up this crazy grad-school chapter of my life and prepare for a new baby and Kindergarten in the fall for my oldest would be terrific as well.  I'm so incredibly encouraged to be surrounded near and far by a network of prayer warriors.  Thank you!!!


Thank you for sharing in our joy!  I can't wait to share this journey once again with all of you!

Separating the Man from the Myth: Why It's Okay to Love Cliff Huxtable

Like the rest of you, I've been shocked, saddened, and totally in denial of the allegations regarding Bill Cosby that are flooding the media everywhere.  I can't bear to pick up that new People magazine or read any more articles about the 21 (and counting) women who have come forward with horrific accounts.  It makes me sick to my stomach, and not because I know Bill Cosby at all.

But, all I desperately want is for someone to stand up and say "It's okay to still love Cliff Huxtable!" So, that's what I'm doing now.

I don't know Mr. Cosby.  I got to see him perform once, years ago, at the Orange County State Fair.  It was silly, nostalgic, and kind of surreal to see such a legend create comedy out of thin air.  But, beyond the occasional TV interview, I know nothing of the man himself.  To me, Bill Cosby is the myth - unknown, distant, and now completely unrelatable.  I don't know him.

But, I know Cliff Huxtable.  I've seen every episode of The Cosby Show multiple times, like many of you, and I vividly remember wiping tears off my cheeks when I watched the finale on TV.

Cliff Huxtable was kind, brilliant, hilarious, respectful, responsible, and would be completely disgusted at the despicable acts that Mr. Cosby is being accused of.  It would sicken him.  It would make him sit his five children down and discuss the importance of integrity in this mess-of-a-world.

Cliff Huxtable is NOT Bill Cosby.  Cliff Huxtable is the man.  A good man.  The man who brought laughter and truth into my heart and home every week of my childhood.  The man who loved his wife with humor and grace.  The man who taught his children how to make the world a better, safer place.

The Huxtable family didn't just teach me about family dynamics, it taught me about diversity and gender equality.  See, I grew up on a farm in the middle of Kansas.  I went to a high school of 98 kids and graduated with a class size of 16.  (Did I mention this was a public high school comprised of three neighboring towns?)

The reality of growing up like this is that I didn't get to know anyone who wasn't white until college.  (I know - it's even hard for me to believe.)  And almost all the moms I knew didn't work outside the home.  But, because I grew up in a home where love, equality, and integrity were held in high value, I didn't bat an eye when I welcomed the Huxtables into our living room each week.  The Huxtables weren't an "impressive African-American family with a working mother and father" - they were just a family!  They set a norm for me - and an expectation that a "healthy family" can look a lot of different ways.

These truths, these positive memories, these endearing and nostalgic attachments I hold to the television show have nothing to do with the reality of Mr. Cosby today.  Nothing can take that away from me, or you, or our children who might watch reruns with us in the future.  And while I fiercely cringe at the horrifying thought of what may have gone on behind the scenes of his personal life, I refuse to let the headlines strip me away the virtues of the Huxtable family.  You don't get to do that, Mr. Cosby, you can't take that away from us.

So, if no one else is saying it - I'm saying it:  I love Cliff Huxtable.  And when I see hoagies or crazy sweaters in the future, I'm going to smile and embrace my memories with open arms.  In the meantime, I pray justice is served for Mr. Cosby while peace and insurmountable grace be given to those women who have come forward - that's what Cliff would have wanted too.

Matilda Turns Five

On Saturday my firstborn will turn five years old.  I know I will blink and this moment will seem like a lifetime ago, but for now, I am reveling in the present instead of the reality that the last five years have flown by unlike any other in my life.

Having children is like having my own, personal time machine that catapults me into the future faster than I could ever imagine.  While the weary days inch by, the memories pile up at lightning speed.

Too quickly, there is a past created by a mountain of moments that hold a piece of my heart forever.

Matilda is turning five.  This feels monumental.  My brain and heart are having a hard time reconciling sentiment and reality.  I let myself get carried away with thinking how soon more milestones will crowd  my maternal memories.

So, what do I do to cement this moment into my own story?  How do I make my mark on this day to let her know, in her own time, how special this phase of life is to our family?  Well, of course, I write her something!

I'm not much of a poet.  I can spew truth for days, lay out my soul for others to read, but when it comes to eloquent speeches I'm often at a loss.

Nevertheless...indulge me.  This isn't for you.  This isn't for anyone but my Matilda.

I pray someday she will read this and see my heart.  In all my mistakes as a human, as a mother, as a friend, I pray she knows in her core how deeply I depend on Jesus for how I raise her.  I hope her bones feel their worth in His eyes alone.

I have faith that through all the ups and downs we will have as mother and daughter that above all she will hold on to the fact that when I met her, I loved her, and nothing will ever change that.

Through the years and forever, I can't wait to get to know her more and more.  My first girl.  My Matilda.

two

three

four

Wonderful You

There are so many parts that make up wonderful you.

Your humor, your beauty, your wit.

You are silly and mischievous, loud and fierce.

You will grow to know these parts of you,

And I hope you let them each shine bright in your own way.

You will develop more parts, some lovely, some challenging.

All parts needing refinement by the grace of our Creator.

But as the world surrounds you, confronts you, inspires you,

Remember this:

Each of us is fearfully made, wonderfully different.

Some people are smarter than you.

Some people are funnier, some prettier,

Some richer or more popular.

But none of them are more you.

No one else is all you.

Only you are you.

You hold your very own wonderful.

Hold it closely, dearly.

Use it well, let it shine.

God made only you to be wonderful you.

And you are greater than the sum of your parts, my darling.

That's what I love most about you.

All of wonderful you.

Happy Fifth Birthday, Matilda Hazel Darling.

Fall Y'all

It's FALL!  This is when I start singing "It's the MOST... wonderful time... of the yeeeeear"!

The leaves are changing color, the temperature is dropping, and the hot beverages are flowing!  Hooray!  It also means that the holidays are right around the corner and before long we'll be wrapping presents and narrowing down new year's resolutions.

As much as I adore autumn, there is something both nostalgic and urgent about it that makes me cherish every moment. It's the beginning of the end of the year, and a great time to look back on all that has changed over the last several months.

How has your life changed in 2014?

Between a new home, a book deal, and starting my final year of grad school, I can't imagine a more transitional year (oh yeah, except for the year before when we moved across the country and started grad school....right.)  Turns out, each year has it's own ups and downs.  Each year, as the leaves turn yellow and orange and brown, I reflect on the beauty and challenges that have led up to this season.

People will talk about "seasons of change" as if there are periods of time where things stand still...but really, does that exist?  Sure, there are times of more tangible, obvious adjustments - but truly, we're all in the middle of transformation in some way or another.  Underneath all our surfaces lies a developing soul that is processing and growing and affecting the souls around it at the same time.  It's both creepy and wonderful, knowing that something is constantly at work "behind the scenes" in all our lives.

This fall, as you sip that pumpkin spice latte and get out that first scarf to keep you warm in the chilly autumn breeze...take a moment to recognize your own changes from the inside out.

What has affected you most this year?  How have you affected others?

And as we think through the ups and downs that will propel us through these final months of 2014, remember that that the pains and pleasures of our past aren't just a process we're experiencing...they're progress we take with us into the ever-changing seasons of our lives ahead.

Older Than Jesus

Well, yes, today is my birthday.  It always sneaks up on me somehow, just like Christmas or Easter or any other "holiday" that are like spokes in the calendar wheel of my life spinning way too fast.  Here again already? Wait, what?  I trust you know exactly what I mean.

A few years back, I remember that Coca-Cola had a ad campaign about celebrating the 25th anniversary of Diet Coke.  It was then that I realized I was older than Diet Coke.  This seemed unfathomable.  Like a staple in my life that I figured had always been around suddenly told me I was a fossil.

Today I turn older than Jesus.  The big 3-4.

me and my people.  we tough. 

Okay, let's not get into theological semantics about how Jesus has actually existed forever, etc.  I get it, yes yes yes.  But, we know He lived on Earth in human form and was crucified at the age of 33...so, in my head, in my image of who Jesus is as a man on this planet - He is sort of eternally 33.  Does that make sense?

My whole life, Jesus has been older.  When I was a child, He was just flat-out old.  Then, as time will have it, we aligned to be peers more and more.  While my understanding and wisdom is severely (severely) lacking in comparison, I could imagine life more and more as a human adult the closer and closer I got to it.

Now, there's just no denying I'm a grown-up.  Now, when I look at paintings or drawings of the imagining of what Jesus looked like - I'll always be older than Him.  I will have a new perspective of imagining what it would have been like to know and live with Jesus as an older-than-Him friend.

This is bizarre for me!  I don't know about you, but for me, I haven't followed the example of a lot of people who were younger than me.  Most of my life, I look to those who've lived longer; I turn to those who have greater experience than me to teach me the most.

Yet, now I can sort of imagine a new perspective of a person in the Bible - the person who met Jesus and may have thought "THIS guy?  But he's so young!  He's only been doing ministry like a few YEARS or so!?  Why should I follow him?  How could He understand my life?"

It's tempting in this life to think that only the oldest, wisest, most experienced people could teach me the most.  It's been nice to have the excuse of youth to fall back on when poor choices are made.  But, there is so much greater freedom in embracing the idea that I will never ever be perfect in this life; and there is such insurmountable hope found in the fact that God exposes me to grace and love and wisdom from the most unlikely of places and people.

Granted, I might not yet be old enough to yell at the neighbor kids to get off my lawn or eat dinner at 4:30 in the afternoon.  But, I'm old enough to know that I don't know everything and I never will.  It's refreshing and relieving, and not at all disappointing like I would have thought many years ago.  At this point in my life, as a grad student and mother, I'm humbled daily at how much there is to learn (over and over and over again) in this life.  And I look forward to spending the coming years (hopefully many!) learning from the unexpected.

After all, the most important lessons of my life came from some young carpenter chap who had the reputation for stirring up trouble in the temple.

Author! Author!

Welcome to the new site!!!

I promised you BIG NEWS, and I'll cut right to the chase:

So, I wrote a book...and it's getting PUBLISHED!  

(Ahh!  Squeal!)

Yes, it's true.  I wrote a book and someone read it and they are actually for real totally absolutely one hundred percent completely going to publish it.  Can we take a moment to FREAK OUT a bit?  WHOA. Seriously? Yes.  It's happening, folks.

FAQs:

What's it called?
The title is still a work in progress, but I promise you'll be the first-ish to know when it's nailed down.

What's it about?
It's a non-fiction memoir of my journey into MOTHERHOOD and the chaos that ensued.  As usual, I'm brutally honest about how motherhood changed my life and affected ALL my relationships - my friendships, my marriage, and my relationship with God.

Who is the Publisher?

Mountainview Books, LLC in Hopeland, PA.  They've published Christian fiction up until now and are branching out with my book into the world of non-fiction.  They publish "Fresh books to inspire your faith" and I'm grateful to have my book fall into that category. 

When can I buy it?
I'm so glad you asked!  It will be released around MAY 2015...in time for MOTHER'S DAY!


I can't WAIT to share more and more details about this exciting development as it happens.  This has been a lifelong goal and a prayerful journey that I'm so honored to be part of.

THANK YOU for all the support and stay tuned to the all-new-improved PARDYMAMA to keep updated with what's happening!

Classy Gal

Back to School!

Just weeks ago, I crossed a major threshold in my education and met the halfway point in my Masters Degree!  Last night I officially became a "Second Year" student in the Marriage & Family Therapy program, stepping ever closer to my goal.

Whoa.  Guys.  The first night of class is always overwhelming, and last night was no exception.  I've had many "first days of school" and yet it felt like the first time all over again as I held the fire hose - err, I mean Syllabus - and felt my brain numb inside my skull.

Assessments, Exams, Papers, Interviews, Videos, Community engagement, and books upon books of reading to accomplish.  Really?  All of this will get done in the coming weeks?  By me?

Yes. It will.  But, not without your support.  All of you - any of you - who read PARDYMAMA and reach out to me and pray for me and encourage me to no end....we are on the home stretch!  The final year is here!  But, at this very moment I can not imagine it all getting done.  The mountain is before me, and I'm weary, and I'm in awe, and I'm oh-so-curious what is on the other side.

I struggle with the insignificancy of my life/complaints/happenings/problems/issues.  I know that there are insanely unexplainable horrific things happening in the world that are far, far, far more urgent and important than my needs.  I am beyond blessed, and it feels selfish to pray for myself amidst the news that surrounds us all of someone else's pain or persecution.

But, our God is bigger than it all.  God is the God of "heal my friend from a terminal disease" and the same God of "help me not lose my temper with my toddler".  It's bewildering and humbling to me that I can lay my stress at the foot of the cross the same as I can a global crisis.  WHAT?!  Yep, He's the God of it all.  He cares just as much.  My needs are valid, even within the context of this crazy-fallen world full of mystery and evil and challenges that run the whole spectrum.

Do you have a significant need in your personal life that seems too insignificant to ask others to pray for?  I do.  I have many.  And I'm dumbfounded at the reminder of 1 Peter 5:7,

Cast all your anxiety on Him because He cares for you.

Catch that?  ALL your anxiety.  All MY anxiety.  Not just the global crises, the terminal illnesses, the broken relationships, or the catastrophes...but, the stresses of work, the frustrations of motherhood, the never-ending to-do list that keeps you awake at night, and the financial concerns that keep piling up.  All of it.  And this gal is going back to class needing your prayers.

Would you pray for me in this season of crazy?  Can you let me know how I can pray for you?

I can't do this alone, and I knew that going into it.  But, at this very first day of my second year in, I'm overwhelmed with the duties before me.  The next 365ish days are going to push me to the edge, and I want you all there holding my hands, helping me remember why I'm here in the first place and helping me enjoy the view.

Please pray for my ability to maintain healthy boundaries, to be able to keep my priorities and time management reasonable.  Please pray for my family as they endure the brunt of my attention being spread thin, that we can work together toward this goal and grow closer through it again this year.  Please pray for mindfulness for myself, that I can be in the present and maintain a grateful heart amidst the chaos, not wanting to fast-forward through this experience and just skip to the end.  Whew.  Thank you.  THANK YOU.  Your prayers mean the world to me.

Prayer changes things...but more powerfully, prayer changes people.  And, it is such a unique and brilliant privilege to get to communicate directly to our Creator about our specific needs, no matter how great or small.  I would LOVE the privilege to specifically pray for you as well - we're in this TOGETHER after all!  Don't hesitate to shoot me an email with a prayer request.  I promise to lift you up to our great big God who will tackle all our anxieties better than either of us ever could on our own.  

Gonna be a great year - here we go!

Email me: emily@pardymama.com to exchange a prayer request!

Depression and The Art of Brokenness

If there was ever a week to write about depression, this seems to be it.

I've debated for days whether to step into the conversation or not, or how to go about doing so, as the web seems to be inundated with expressions of honesty, grief, judgment, confusion, and all sorts of grasping-for-answers editorials following the suicide of Robin Williams.

With the genocide that's taking place elsewhere in the world, I'm both dumbfounded at the publicity one celebrity's crisis can cause, yet grateful for the moment being taken to address the seriousness of mental illness.  Horrific things happen.  Everywhere.  We are a broken world.

We are all living in a turbulent space where we can watch silly cat videos on YouTube one second and directly follow them up with reading an article about the beheading of Christians an ocean away.  Then we click our iPhone off and stir our spaghetti and send our kids to time-out and distract ourselves with the only constants we can depend on like laundry and dirty dishes, and the world continues to spin.  Messed up, right? This is the broken world we live in, and we're all doing our best to survive.

I don't have anything to say about Robin Williams.  I didn't know him any better than most of you, and while I'm incredibly indebted to him to have experienced narratives through his lens as an actor, I truly knew nothing of him as a person, let alone a fellow broken human being.  This is to say, I want to tell you about my depression, and I don't want to mislead you in anyway that I have an inkling as to what he felt or experienced in any way, shape, or form.

That's one of the mysteries of depression - there are enough commonalities with the diagnosis that we can draw a line in the sand and say "You need help, and You don't" (by the way, FALSE, we all need help) but it runs a wide spectrum of actual experience, and therefore confusion tends to build with each and every story that's expressed.

I can remember the day when I woke up and took my first Zoloft.  I remember thinking "Today, I'm a person who has to be medicated to function normally."  It felt awful.  There was nothing courageous or hopeful about it for me in the moment.  I felt weak, dumb, inadequate, and questioned the God I kept placing my faith in.  Where was He?  Why didn't I feel better?  How could this be His best for me?

I felt very alone. I had never known anyone who was depressed before, let alone someone who needed to be medicated for it.  In fact, it would be years before I would find out that I actually did know people around me at the time who had gone through similar experiences, but at this point in my life it was quite taboo to talk about such things, so I became as secretive as they had in my going to therapy and seeking help.  So, I created my own silo to heal in, and rarely let anyone in.

I didn't know how to feel, why to feel, or what to change in order to feel differently.  I could list reasons for days of everything I had to live for, be grateful for, to praise God for; yet the cloud would not lift.  I could smile at parties, put on a decent facade, and only hours later be fighting demons in the night that held my joy hostage.

The bottom line was, I didn't know what to do.  There were times when suicide seemed rational.  Times when building a time machine and going to live in a new universe seemed more plausible than ever finding actual healing.  Times when I wished God hadn't burdened those around me with my existence.  Times I have every reason to feel shame for, yet by the grace of God can only look back on with gratitude and heartache.

It's been a good ten years since those times.  I would not be so bold as to say "I'm healed."  I don't think I will say that until the day I meet my Savior face to face.  There are grains of depression still seeded in my soul, and there are battle wounds left to remind me of that from which I'm in remission.

Depression, for me, was a perfect storm which I survived, not unscathed.  It was biological, circumstantial, hormonal, environmental, spiritual, and psychological.  It's root was multi-faceted, and therefore, my treatment became mulit-sourced.  Every part of my life was affected by my depression, therefore, every part of my life had to be marked by change as I changed.

Little by little, the cloud dissipated, and I live a life free from the grip of depression today.  Let it not go unnoticed that for years, I thought this was impossible.  I thought this kind of freedom was reserved for those luckier than I - those who were privileged with extreme optimism, deeper faith, or extraordinary support.  Yet, here I am, a survivor and ever grateful.

We can't live in silos any longer.  I'm joining the conversation of depression with this post because I want to continue the exposure, and extinguish the stigma.  The shame that's attached to depression is rooted in an insecurity that we all have: the thought that I can't handle this.  That's right.  YOU CAN'T.  We were not meant to handle life alone.  We were not made to hide from help.  We were not created to shut out sources of healing.  And, as grisly or uncomfortable as this life gets, the only way to break down these silos is to share our broken hearts and stories of healing.

Christ alone has the power to bring recovery - but, He most often is gracious to include us in the process.  My recovery included dozens of people, books, therapists, science, medication, encouraging words, loving acts of service, prayer, and the list goes on an on.  Christ utilizes time, resources, and relationships.  He didn't create us to find power within ourselves, He made us to relate to one another in our weaknesses, finding Him through the process.

Guys - I'm becoming a THERAPIST.  I'm joining the professional industry of mental health workers out there, and I'M A BROKEN PERSON.  I hope this sinks in for you.  I'm not "fixed and ready to fix others".  I'm actively seeking help from multiple sources on a consistent basis, and I am honored to join in the process of someone else on their journey of reaching out for help.

A decade ago, I was embarrassed to admit I needed help.  I was ashamed I saw a therapist.  And now I'm becoming one.  Don't worry, I'm not trying to recruit you.  Not all of us were called to a mental health as a vocation; but ALL of us have a story, a voice, a time and place we can reach across silos and expose brokenness for what it really is:  LIFE.

This life is ugly, filled with doubt and horror, but we are not alone, and we are not without hope.  The stories that bring us together are often the hardest ones to tell.  Encourage bravery, seek help, and take confidence that our story is not yet finished.

Behind the Scenes

So, you may have seen that last week I wrote this article for Venn Magazine, titled "Divorce is Always an Option".  In it, I very vulnerably describe some emotions I felt when I walked through my own divorce several years ago, and how that has impacted my current marriage in a powerful way.

Choosing marriage daily is vital in a world where we are bombarded with options.  Options for who to love, where to invest our time, how to be a better person, why to choose a certain religion, or deciding what I think is best for me based on mostly feelings-in-the-moment.  Options are everywhere all the time.  THIS is why I wrote the article.  To help myself (and maybe others!) remember the COST of some of the options that are so enticing.

It was a hard article to write, and it had been in my brain and heart for a couple years - percolating and waiting to find just the right time and place to post my heart-on-a-platter story.  Venn does a great job at giving "both sides to a story"and uniting ideas that seemingly contradict each other, so I jumped at the opportunity when they liked my pitch for the article.

While I have zero shame attached to my divorce story (thanks to the grace of God and quality therapy), it's never easy to depict such a grief-stricken, brokenhearted time in my life.  I have to wade through the rolodex of memories in the back of my mind, plucking out emotions that I haven't felt in many years, and "relive" them in a sense as I do my best to genuinely convey an honest tale.

So, I almost didn't write it.  I mean, who wants to go there?

It's so easy to leave pain in the foreign land of forgotten memories and let it just rot and die there with the rest of my attachments to that time in my life.  It's long over.  I've obviously moved on.  So, there must be something wrong with me if I'm willing to pick at the wound that's merely a scar that's easily hidden.

Too easy.  And, just like that hidden scar, I kind of wanted to hide this article and not let anyone know about it.

Guys, up until the very day this article hit the web, I doubted it's impact.  Even though these words had been brewing in me for a long time, I was ready to let it skate by unnoticed and not very willing to let God use them however He wanted.  I thought "Eh, maybe I won't tweet about this article or post it on Facebook.  Maybe I'll just let strangers stumble upon it and see what happens."  But, God stirred my heart and so I threw those words out into the light - and oh, God used those words.

The day the article hit the web, I received more emails, more comments, more "shares" than maybe anything I'd ever written before.  Hearts were touched and reminded of the hope that pain and progress hold; and I was put in my place for ever having doubted God's timing for those words.

Satan LOVES insecurity.  Sometimes I think it must be his favorite game to play with us.  And more often than not, I find myself lost in the forest of temptation, bombarded by worries about "What if..."and soon traveling down the path towards "I doubt..."

I'm giving you this behind-the-scenes look into the wild mind of a freelance writer, because I don't want you to read or see that article and think for a second that "Wow, she can just unzip her heart and put it out there for all to see and never have any question!  She must be so confident and trust God all the time!"  Surprise - I'm human.  And full of irrational worries that God holds and molds into something useful that I can actually benefit from.

It's the ugly vessel that is used most often.  I'm learning this over and over again as I continue to ask God to pour and pour and pour through my fingertips.  The more I reveal, the more I fling back the curtain so you all can see the heart that's being molded, the more I feel God can actually use me for His purpose instead of my own.

It's not easy to get gritty and honest with ourselves.  It's even harder to share that with others.  But, looking inside is not the same as looking back.

The pain of the past changes us, and to put away that pain forever would be a misuse of an opportunity to further ourselves, reach out to others, and acknowledge the new abilities of a malleable heart.  Don't tuck away that opportunity forever if you have something in your heart that God is working on.  Ask God to give you the courage and time to reveal those wounds when they can be used for His purpose.  Maybe it's alone in a therapy room speaking with someone confidentially, or maybe it's on a public forum for everyone to see (I do both!)

I'm going to share with you one of my all-time FAVORITE passages out of the Bible.  Yes, it's long.  Ok, it's an entire chapter...but, if you've stuck with me this far, you can keep going.  Let the words sink into your bones.  Let the message reach your heart.  Let God work IN you.  It's uncomfortably comforting, and I pray you'll be blessed from it's truth:

2 Corinthians 4 New International Version (NIV)  [Bold added]

Present Weakness and Resurrection Life

4 Therefore, since through God’s mercy we have this ministry, we do not lose heart. ² Rather, we have renounced secret and shameful ways; we do not use deception, nor do we distort the word of God. On the contrary, by setting forth the truth plainly we commend ourselves to everyone’s conscience in the sight of God. ³ And even if our gospel is veiled, it is veiled to those who are perishing. ⁴ The god of this age has blinded the minds of unbelievers, so that they cannot see the light of the gospel that displays the glory of Christ, who is the image of God. ⁵ For what we preach is not ourselves, but Jesus Christ as Lord, and ourselves as your servants for Jesus’ sake. ⁶ For God, who said, “Let light shine out of darkness,”^[a] made his light shine in our hearts to give us the light of the knowledge of God’s glory displayed in the face of Christ.

⁷ But we have this treasure in jars of clay to show that this all-surpassing power is from God and not from us. ⁸ We are hard pressed on every side, but not crushed; perplexed, but not in despair;⁹ persecuted, but not abandoned; struck down, but not destroyed. ¹⁰ We always carry around in our body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be revealed in our body. ¹¹ For we who are alive are always being given over to death for Jesus’ sake, so that his life may also be revealed in our mortal body. ¹² So then, death is at work in us, but life is at work in you.

¹³ It is written: “I believed; therefore I have spoken.” Since we have that same spirit of faith, we also believe and therefore speak, ¹⁴ because we know that the one who raised the Lord Jesus from the dead will also raise us with Jesus and present us with you to himself. ¹⁵ All this is for your benefit, so that the grace that is reaching more and more people may cause thanksgiving to overflow to the glory of God.

¹⁶ Therefore we do not lose heart. Though outwardly we are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. ¹⁷ For our light and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs them all. ¹⁸ So we fix our eyes not on what is seen, but on what is unseen, since what is seen is temporary, but what is unseen is eternal.

Praise & Worship

Like many children, my girls love to sing.  And boy, do they!  Sing, sing, sing, everything.

Granted, both Josh and I are pretty liberal in our "songification" of things - completely uninhibited in lyricizing the most mundane of activities.  Doing the dishes could be a new rap parody, folding laundry becomes a nursery rhyme, or making dinner turns into a pop classic.  What can I say?  We're the Pardys, and we bring the beat.

So, it's no wonder that my girls (who are particularly verbose to begin with) tend to songify any and all activities they may encounter.  I adore their ability to create the most silly and random mixes, and I hope that they always feel freedom in this home to keep those creative juices flowing, even with the weirdest of compilations (Okay, a new song about Apple Jack from My Little Pony learning to fly and cook scrambled eggs with Jesus and taking a walk with rainbows.  Sure, okay, this makes sense.  Good job, honey.)

But, nothing stirs my heart like hearing my girls sing praise and worship.  Sure, they know the words to Jesus Loves Me or The B-I-B-L-E.  These simple, beautiful classics are embedded into Christian childhoods as a staple, and I'm grateful for them (and a bit nostalgic!)

But, recently, I've begun to embrace the power that these songs have, infiltrating my children's minds at such a young age, hoping that they stay in their hearts for years and years to come.  So, I've started to really intentionally look and listen for bigger songs, harder songs, and not turn away from wordy, complex songs that I might have originally labeled "too difficult" for their little brains to absorb.

A few Sundays ago, we sang one of these powerful songs.  I'd never heard it before, and the words just STUCK with me.  I just love those moments in church where you feel like you're learning something familiar all over again like it's new, taken aback in awe of the simplicity of GOD'S LOVE FOR ME and how incredibly divine it is.  The song was "Christ Be in my Waking" and maybe you've heard of it before, but if not, here is the Stuart Townsend version of it that I would encourage you to watch below.

So, now, after my girls have seen that video multiple times a day for the last couple weeks, they are learning the words.  I am too!  I'll admit there are a lot of words in that song (each one with purpose, no doubt).  My girls will be in the middle of playing ponies or dress up and burst into chorus "Jeeesus!  This is my der-no-vo-tion!..."  Stumbling through the lyrics, but wholeheartedly praising and worshipping, and most of all - letting the truths of Christ affect them from the inside out.

I love praise and worship, especially old hymns (this, coming from the girl who grew up in a small church where my Grammy played the organ in the sanctuary on Sundays!)  The sentiments of the old hymns carry beautiful memories for me, along with their ancient truths.

Power in the Blood, What a Friend We Have in Jesus, Come Thou Fount, In the Garden, and Be Thou My Vision are just some of my favorites.  In Christ Alone is another "new classic" that is a modern song with an older feel that I simply cannot sing without shedding a tear.  It just might be the next song I choose to introduce to my girls.

What about you?  What are some of your favorite praise and worship songs?  I think it would be awesome to compile a good list and check them off week by week to teach my girls.  There's a little library in that brain of theirs, full of ideas and thoughts and sounds that take up space the more they sense the things around them.  I hope and pray that the words carried over the generations in these beautiful melodies are filling the shelves of their minds so they can always recall the truths they hold.