Why I Asked My Husband To Buy Me Flowers: Confessions of a Rotten Receiver

I'm a rotten receiver. Getting gifts is NOT my love language, to say the least.

It's not that I don't like "stuff". I love stuff! I buy stuff all the time! But, I get gift anxiety when it comes to receiving from others. I worry about how I'll react when I get it, if they'll know I truly appreciate it, or if I'll thank them enough, or if whatever I got them in return is a proper "match" for what they got me. I feel a nagging sensation of guilt if it is something I don't need and even more guilt if it's something I don't actually want.

As you can imagine, I'm hard to buy for. I usually ask for consumable things like food or gift cards, stuff that I can use up or apply toward something practical. I loathe surprises, so I would rather pick an item out ahead of time and know I'll like it rather than risk the possibility that someone might actually find something I'll sincerely like.

Like I said, rotten.

I'm admitting this now because I suspect I'm not alone. I would gamble that there are other mothers out there that have become just as pragmatic as I have. In the world of clipping coupons, collecting Box Tops, Pampers points, and Grouponing, we're molded into a form that demands we cut corners where we can. On top of that, the needs of our family are growing and it seems wildly irresponsible to be spoiled by others.

Also, if you're like me, I'm not striving to be a martyr here. I genuinely take greater pleasure in seeing my kids open gifts than opening one myself. But, it wasn't until recently that it dawned on me that by short-changing myself on gifts, I'm actually depriving them of something greater than anything I could wrap up or stick a bow on.

My kids need to see their mom get spoiled rotten, not be a rotten receiver.

This Valentine's Day, I asked my husband to buy me flowers. I asked him to buy flowers for our girls too, and start a new tradition that will help them set the bar high when it comes to "how a lady should be treated". Of course my husband was thrilled to do it - poor guy has been kept at bay for years trying to shower me with this or that! (Did I mention that gifts is his love language?!)

I want my girls to grow up seeing their mother receive well. Not just politely, but deservedly. Not just graciously, but with humility. What good do I serve them if they see me buying my own Christmas gifts? What am I teaching them if I only ever get what I want? I want to be a better recipient of the blessings around me, crediting God and the thoughtfulness of others, and attempting to show them that I recognize I am valuable to many!

Made for each other.

If I want them to grow up and get spoiled by men who are worthy of their love, then I need to model it now. It may take a long time for me to turn the corner from making this change "for them" to taking it on as how I really feel about gifts, but that's okay. Actions can speak louder than words, and I'm hoping this change will shout out to them "YOU ARE WORTHY OF THIS!"

The sunflowers my husband bought me brought more than just beauty to our home. They helped mark a turning point for me as a wife and mother. The flowers will wilt and die, but their sentiment remains. And when I kissed his face with gratitude and got a resounding "Ewwww!" from my girls, my heart knew it was the right move.

Ain't No One Got Time For That: True Self-Care For Mamas

I'm really good at chatting about self-care. I have my Masters in Marriage & Family Therapy, after all. I have three children and put on deodorant today, for heaven's sake. I have a marriage that still makes me smile and remembered to schedule my six-month dentist check-up only 10 months after the last one! I mean, I'm seriously good at this self-care business, right?

If you're like me, you are great at telling others how to take better care of themselves, but slipping slowly down the sub-par slope yourself. Cringing yet?

As mothers, we deal daily in the chores of sympathy, compassion, care, and inevitably spread ourselves too thin across the needs of our family, all in the name of love. This is wonderful. This is often necessary. But, this is not sustainable. 

Yesterday, I joined a Bible Study that "I don't have time for", "It's just far enough away to be too far", "I don't even know if anyone I know will be there", "I'm not even sure what they are studying", and "I'm not sure I want to commit or feel obligated to keep going".

Sound familiar?

I can easily think of a million reasons not to go. I have plenty of dishes/laundry/cooking that I could fill that time-slot with. I didn't even want to tell anyone I was considering going in case I backed out at the last minute.

Then I remembered that in the last two years, God brought me through the absolute busiest time of my life. With two children, I got through grad school, held a part-time job, and had a book published, and somehow managed to not completely have my brain melt.

God was faithful, and while I have no desire to relive that kind of manic schedule, I know that He provides what I need when I need it - including time (and especially time to worship Him)!

I often forget that true self-care starts from the inside out. Soul care doesn't just happen on its own. 

I don't just feel joyful because of the "stuff" I have or the blessings around me. I don't just automatically desire to read the Bible every day because it's the "right thing to do". I don't constantly thank Jesus for saving me simply because I should. AND I SHOULD...but, reality holds obligations, deadlines, crying babies, phone calls, and dentist appointments that I allow to get in the way.

It's easy to think that something so basic as taking care of ourselves should come naturally. But, I'm here to tell you that it's OKAY to schedule it in. Do it!

You don't have to join a Bible Study. That's not necessarily the answer for you in the season you are in. But, how are you taking care of yourself? Wine nights with girlfriends and the occasional mani/pedi might be what most mommy blogs are urging you to do - but I'm here to ask, What are you doing to pamper your soul?

I'm learning how to do this right alongside you, mamas. I am thick in the struggle of balancing all the spinning plates while riding a unicycle, just like you are. I pray every day that I will appreciate this season, even through the groggy fog of sleep deprivation and the sounds of whiney children and the reheated cups of coffee.  It's hard.

But, let's remember who is truly spinning all those plates. It's not us. It's certainly not by my strength that my children get hugged and disciplined all in the same day. It's not by my faithfulness that food is on the table or the unfolded laundry keeps us warm day to day.

Give yourself the time-out that a mama sincerely deserves, and let us encourage one another to focus on the One from whom all blessings flow. We all got time for that.

If you look for me wholeheartedly, you will find me. - Jeremiah 29:13 NLT 

 

Heaven Sent: Why I Love Earth Mama Angel Baby

I recently wrote a post all about breastfeeding, where I mentioned how much I love Earth Mama Angel Baby's Natural Nipple Butter.  Since then, I've gotten to try out some more of their products and mamas, let me tell you - this stuff is heaven sent!

It's rare for me to blatantly endorse products, I save my soapbox for only things I truly love.  So, while this is only my opinion, I hope you take my review here as an honest mama's thumbs up for the following products! (I don't sell these or make any money off of this, I promise!)

I'll even send a FREE SAMPLE and $1-Off coupon
to the first 5 people who EMAIL ME,
subject line: HEAVEN SENT!

Natural Nipple Butter: This stuff is awesome - as I've already told you how it is fantastic to prevent cracked, sore nipples when breastfeeding.  But, did you know it could also be used for chapped lips, backup diaper cream, drool rash, or even as breast pump lube?  Woohoo!  I'm all for the multi-purposing of this product, and I love that it is safe for mom and baby.  Be one of the first five people to email me and you'll get a free sample!

Organic Milkmaid Tea:  Fall is here and winter is on the way - warm up your insides with this yummy tea and help your milk production at the same time!  If you are a tea lover, you'll love this.  The fennel seed gives it a slightly licorice-y flavor, which I personally like, and it would probably make a good iced tea as well if that's your preference.  While I don't exclusively use organic products, it's wonderful to know this tea is super safe for my milk production.  This sweet sipper is USDA Certified 100% Organic, Non-GMO Project Verified and Certified Kosher. I like to sip it in the morning and afternoon...and maybe with a cookie or two (shh, don't tell.)

Booby Tubes: Got ouchie tatas? You mamas gotta try these!  At first I was a bit skeptical how something gel-free could be comforting, but once I stuck these puppies in the freezer and used them after a feeding - ahhh, serious relief!  What I love most about them is that they can be used either cold (to reduce swelling or tenderness) OR hot (to promote let-down and milk flow and also prevent clogged ducts)! Again safe for mama and baby, they are natural and made with a 100% organic cotton shell and filled with all-natural flax seed.

A Little Something for Baby: My FAVORITE by far! Mamas, if you don't get this at a baby shower - buy it yourself!  This little kit is perfect to welcome a new little one into the world.  I've used mine on baby Vivian and I'm excited to take it with us over the holidays while we travel (the products are perfect for on-the-go!)  The bath products have a delicious, vanilla-orange scent that will make you want to nibble your baby all the more.  Vivi was calm and relaxed as I bathed her and lotioned her and I was thrilled to see her diaper rash disappear after a few uses of the bottom balm.  I also used the baby oil on a couple spots she developed cradle cap and it made it much easier to remove.  This kit is perfect for a gift too, so I'm thinking Santa might be putting another one in baby Viv's stocking this year!

Let me know if you have any questions about these products!  I don't sell them at all - but I'll give you my honest opinion!  You can find all these and more on the Earth Mama Angel Baby website and almost anywhere that sells baby products. Be sure to email me for a coupon!

Motherhood: It's Okay To Be Good At Other Things

"I'm not good at this," I thought to myself as I gripped the steering wheel, cringing, and biting my tongue from yelling at my daughter in the back seat.

"I'm good at many things.  But, I am not good at motherhood.  This sucks."

me. tired. and my beauties.

Yes, even I suffer from the dreaded cloud of total insecurity when it comes to parenting.  Me, the gal who has her Masters in "relationships", who's written countless articles on what it means to be a mama, who wears the title "Parenting Expert" granted from SheKnows.com and of course has the blissful Facebook and Instagram photos to prove how seamless life can look from the outside.  Aren't I supposed to know what I'm doing???

Ever feel super crummy like everyone else has it all together and your parenting world is spinning out of control?  Me too.   

The day had started off so well.  I got Matilda off to school on time.  Daphne and I made actual breakfast together (eggs and everything) and sat and read storybooks until my vision blurred.  I suggested we go to the library for some free fun, and that's when the day started to crumble.

The library was closed.  I called around and find out every library in a 15 mile radius was closed. The baby started crying. Daphne was whining and disappointed. I fumbled for change in my purse as I suggested we go ease our strife with a drink from Sonic.  She was thrilled, until we got there, and as soon as I handed her the grape slushie she declared she didn't want it, and her whining turned to grouchiness so fierce that even Oscar would have been ashamed.

By the time I got home, I was covered in grape slushie, spit-up, and a whole lot of frustration.  I put my kid in her room, threw her some pop-tarts, hit the play button on the DVD player and walked out.  We needed a moment apart, and I found myself huddled on the couch taking deep breaths and once again bewildered at the fact that someone so small and sweet can rouse me into such a frenzy that I want to punch a hole in the wall!

Children are demanding, irrational, LOUD, unpredictable little humans whose selective hearing and sporadic obedience is enough to bring any adult to their knees.  They drive me crazy.  They wear me out. And yes, I love them with the depth of love that is greater than my life and stronger than a hundred horses...but, man, it can be rough some days.

Can I get an AMEN?

This week I've talked to at least three other moms who did stupid things just like me, who got down on herself, who felt all alone in the guilt that we should have done better, who question whether they are truly the best person for the job and get to wear this insane title called Mom.

We are all surviving this parenthood thing, shoving our guilt out of the way most of the time to just get the next task done.  It's hard and it can strangle your spirit if you let it.  But, this guilt is full of lies and I'm determined to steer this ship towards honest and calm harbors.

Amidst my anger and frustration, a small voice echoed inside me.  "You know it's okay to be good at other things too, right?"  Hmm.  I hadn't thought much about it.  But, if this was any other job, I'd be able to shake off the terrible moment of the day and move on to a task I was better at.

Reality is, we are going to be terrible at this mom-thing sometimes.  We have ugly moments and frustrating times, just like any other facet of our life.  And sometimes it's okay to cry and be good at something else in that moment.  It's okay.  I promise.  Your kid won't disown you.

I can do many things well.  We all can.  Truly. Those other parts of us are still alive and well even if we don't exercise those muscles every day.  They shape us into the kind of parents we are and sometimes we have to go out of our way to stir them up and make use of them.

Nothing else in life is 24/7 like parenthood is...so, we're just going to be bad at it more often than probably anything else.  That's just the truth (and simple math). Those weak moments?  Those pop-tarts-for-lunch-watch-your-dvd kind of days?  They are going to happen and they happen to everyone.

Motherhood is not what you do.  It's who you are.  So yeah, I'm gonna do some stupid things now and then and I'm gonna do the wrong thing at times, sure...but, who I am?  Who I am is far going to exceed in the race of filling my kids up with the right stuff.

Who I am is greater than just the sum of my parts - the writer, the wife, the cook, the laundry lady, the maid, the gal who loves Jesus and needs Him every day...they all add up to an honest person my kids get to interact with on a daily basis, and with the grace of God I am more than I could ever have been if I tried to do this thing all by myself.  Parenthood is an act of faith, no doubt.

We're gonna make it, mamas.  You are good.  You are good at many things.  You are a good mama, even when you are more normal than you'd like to be. You are not alone.

The Three Words I Never Thought I'd Say

I know they say to never say never, but I really never thought I'd be saying these next three words:

I miss school.

I know, I know, I know.  It's ridiculous.  I'm only out of school for a couple months and instead of reveling in the fact that I'm free of homework, don't have to read hundreds of pages, or trying to shuffle my schedule to take part in a group project, I'm kinda sorta sad that I don't have class.

This is what you call transition.

I was just getting used to the fact of being labeled "student" again, and now I'm not. There I was, constantly under the burden of learning and engaging and regurgitating information, formulating ways to apply it in personal and professional settings, looking for approval from peers, supervisors, and the daunting grades that would post on my student profile, and suddenly I'm back to the "real world" with no scale for knowing exactly how I'm doing.  Whew.  

I gotta confess:  I loved it.  

There's no grading system for motherhood or extra credit for laundry.  There's no supervisor patting me on the back for staying up late with a kid who is throwing up or defrosting dinner on time.  It was nice to have an area of my life that was so entirely structured.

I liked knowing what was expected of me (syllabus), I liked engaging in deep conversations over topics I'm passionate about (classmates), I liked receiving praise for hard work I poured into projects that took time and energy (grades), and I liked gaining the encouragement from those who are far more advanced in the field than I am (professors).  Grad school was a wonderful little bubble for me to travel to and live in for a short time, and like most things in life - it passed by all too quickly.

What transitions are you experiencing lately?

Transitions have a way of making us appreciate the past.  Every milestone I meet in life comes with both grief and celebration, leaving me with that pit in my stomach that both longs for an encore of what has been and the anticipation of what is to come.

Just because you want something to happen doesn't mean you're going to like it all the time.

That's the grand illusion of transition.  We expect that if we have been waiting and wanting something to happen that when it does, we should only ever be grateful and thrilled that it did.  

But, too often I forget that honest feelings don't void gratitude.

Maybe you're not just out of grad school and missing the camaraderie of the classroom...but, perhaps you can relate to one of these:

When you get married, you miss being single.

When you break up with someone, you miss being a couple.

When you have a baby, you miss life before children.

When you send your kid to school, you miss them needing you all day.

When you start a new job, you miss the freedom of familiarity.

When you move away from home, you miss your family.

You get it.  Transitions in life aren't easy, even when you welcome them with open arms.  As a new mother with a new degree and a husband with a new job, I know I'm feeling transition in multiple areas of my life right now.  I'm so grateful we have an unchanging God who always knows which direction is up!

James 1:17 (NIV)

Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.

So, I'm 35

Today I turn 35.  Or, as I like to tell people, "If you need advice on being 29, just ask me, I've been 29 for years now." [insert obligatory laugh track here]

I don't understand time.  I hate it, actually, and it makes no sense to me that yesterday I was in one phase of life and today I'm in another.  Yesterday I could check a different box on an assessment form and today I'm upgraded to the 35-40 margin of a census.  Sigh.  Time is dumb.  Time is a temporary restriction reserved to this planet, and my soul is restless in its grip.

But, the getting older part...that I like.  Society might tell me to pick up a wrinkle cream and start cutting back on sugar, sure.  Media compels me to worry about things like retirement funds and cholesterol, fine.  But, as my physical body reminds me I'm no teenager, my mind and spirit charge full-throttle ahead in anticipation of what I have yet to know in this life.

My teenage years were heaped in wonder, doubt, and naiveté.  My twenties were full of adventure and wrought with insecurity. My thirties are officially halfway over and so far it's been a roller coaster of decisions, milestones, and deep rooting.

Most of all, I have found incredible joy in learning what I do not know.  Getting a Masters degree, while a great accomplishment, reminded me that there are realms and realms of introspection and revelation awaiting me as I grow as a person.  I am in awe of anticipating what's left to discover about myself and how God will shape and use that in my time on this earth.

To say this last year has been exceptional would be an understatement in my book.  It's not that long ago that I would have laughed in your face if you told me I would have published a book, received my Masters, and had a baby all in one year! (Yes, I'm exhausted.) With these milestones under my belt, one can't help but reflect and project with some concern "Um, what now, God?"

So, I'm 35 and have no idea what's coming.  We have three children, no jobs, 2 Masters degrees, and our knees are somewhat sore from pleading with God to know what's around the corner.

And I wouldn't have it any other way.

At 35, I know much much less than I did when I was 20.  Because today I can calmly, confidently say that I know that there's so much I don't know.  I'm not insecure in this fact.  I'm not fearful or frustrated that there are uncertainties all around me.  Because of all the things I don't know, I know full well and better than ever before that my God has got me in His grip.

Commit your actions to the Lord, and your plans will succeed.  Proverbs 16:3

I can't tell you what the next 35 days hold, let alone the next 35 years.  But, I have 35 years to look back on as a testament of God's faithfulness and provision for me in this life.  As those days grow, I pray my trust in Him grows as well, allowing the wonders and doubts around me to blossom into His promises.

Thank you for my life, Lord.  Wring it dry with Your use.

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!

How to Grow a Human in 9 Easy Months

It's the final stretch!

I'm scheduled to deliver this baby via c-section on Sunday, August 16th at 9am.  (Mark your calendars!  Prayers appreciated!)  That gives me five days to groan and gripe and worry about all the things that will probably not go awry.

Looking back, sure, these last nine months have flown by.  It's easy to gestate a human when you have mere days getting checked off the calendar.  Since this is my last (to my knowledge) pregnancy, I've tried my utmost to caress my growing midsection with patience and gratitude, knowing these violent jabs to my ribs and aching hips/back are oh-so-temporary.

But, I'm ready.

From 6 weeks to 39 weeks! WHOA MAMA!
(Isn't the human body freaking amazing?!)

I'm eager to meet this little blessing in my belly, ready to smooch her face and nibble on her toes until others around me start to feel uncomfortable by my level of adoration (mothers understand this limitless ability to gawk at their newborn).

I'm ready to not be stopped in my tracks with Braxton Hicks or require a million pillows and a pulley-system to simply roll over in my own bed.  I'm ready to see my toes again and enjoy a glass of wine with dinner.  I'm ready to have my anxieties shift from pregnant worries to external concerns about parenting another new life.  Bring it on!

It bewilders me to think that only 9 months ago I didn't know what this week held in store for me.  That I thought my plate was full then, and my emotional capacity was brimming with everything I knew about at that moment.

But, when a new body grows within your own body, you start to realize how absolutely beyond your control most things are.  While this pregnancy hasn't lacked pains or challenges, I had nothing to do with the cell-building, nerve-developing, bone-growing miracle that took place right under my heart (literally).

I've always been pretty darn good at worrying.  It doesn't keep me from doing much, but it doesn't mean the fear isn't present.  Worry is familiar territory for most mothers, and it's step-sisters Doubt and Anxiety are always nearby.  They love to team up and try to steal away joy and hope and confidence, and if I'm not prayerful about staying aware of their whereabouts I can easily find myself entertaining them.

Then, I look down.  I see this giant beach ball churning under my shirt and I'm instantly reminded how I did NOTHING to grow this human.  Hands. Feet. Heart. BRAIN. All neatly woven together while I waddled through my day, working on school and household chores, showering and cooking, driving and walking, wolfing down cheeseburgers like I was making up for the vegetarians of the world.  All but ignorant of the minute intricacies that were being constructed atom by atom as my new little person formed within.

That's how I grew this human in 9 easy months.  I worried while God worked.  I trusted while God constructed.  I hoped while God created.  I don't know who this person is in me.  I don't know what she looks like or how she will act or behave or who she will grow up to be.  But, I've loved her from before I knew she existed - something else I've had no control over.

I can't wait to have this baby and introduce her to the world.  I can't wait to announce her arrival with triumph and celebration.  It's a wonderful feeling to exchange my worries for wonder, and as my final pregnancy concludes this weekend, I'm grateful for the last 9 months of ups and downs to carry this baby into the world that awaits her.

Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes

Let this season go down in Pardy history known as "The Summer of Change".

As a counselor, I can't recommend more than one major, life-changing transition happening at a time.  As a wife and mother, however, sometimes you just have to eat your own advice and swallow what life dishes up!

My husband lost his job in July. We're expecting our third child in less than two weeks.  I finished my Masters degree last Friday.  My oldest daughter starts Kindergarten tomorrow.  

So, here we are all at once, changing jobs, changing schools, changing rooms, changing roles, changing laundry, changing careers, changing routines, and soon enough, changing diapers.  Like it or not, CHANGE is the new normal in our home.

To say my heart is in a whirlwind is sort of an understatement.  On one hand I find myself weary and weepy and frustrated and fearful, totally in doubt of a foggy future that has been so scheduled for the last two years.  On the other hand, I feel giddy and excited and nervous, like every day has the potential to be Christmas morning!  (Not to mention pregnancy hormones are in FULL swing!)

There's no easy way to have faith.

That much I've learned in my short time on this planet; and no matter how many times my faith is challenged and stretched, it hurts.  Sometimes its a good hurt, like yawning so big my ears pop or touching my toes (something I have faint recollection of!)

Other times, it's a knife to the back, or the stomach, or the heart...completely debilitating and potentially fatal to my progress.  But, no matter how much I bleed out, it's not the end.  I just usually need a transfusion of the mind and heart to keep me going.  I need to flush out my own thoughts and plans and once again rely exclusively on the Creator's calendar.

Last week, I closed out a chapter of my life I never though possible.  I earned my Masters degree in Marriage and Family Therapy.  There was a time in my life I wasn't sure I would ever get my Bachelor's degree, so to state this accomplishment is no small feat for me!  It still seems surreal, and I'm sure it will take a while to sink in that I don't have any more homework for the rest of my life!

Tomorrow, my oldest daughter starts Kindergarten.  She's excited and scared and a living example of all the emotions swirling around inside of my soul right now.  She's a feeler to say the least, and an expresser that puts my own transparency to shame.  The five-year-old lack of filter keeps me poignantly aware that she's standing on her own precipice just waiting to see what comes next.

Faith is my favorite oxymoron.

It's ugly because "having faith" means I also have the doubt necessary to need the faith in the first place.  It's beautiful because it functions regardless of my fears, fully dependent on the unchanging mercy that God continues to pour into me.  It's irrational, forcing me to live with expectation I have no evidence to hope for.  It's everything that keeps me going when nothing is giving me reason to charge ahead.

What changes are you going through in life right now?

Change is rarely comfortable.  Even when it's planned for, it usually comes with pains of progress or frustrations found through the process.  But, our unchanging God can do so much more through our changing souls than He ever could allowing us to remain comfortable and stagnant in our growth.
Deep breath.  Exhale.

Okay, change.  Bring it on.  Ready or not.  I freely abandon my own understanding and embrace the irrational courage that faith has to offer me in this insane season of life.  Lord, help your peace overshadow the anxieties I have, and help me and my family as we welcome the plans and timing you have for us!

Can I get an AMEN?

Home Sweet Home Stretch

There's something bittersweet about the third trimester of pregnancy.  While the kicks and jolts in my belly trigger joy at the thought of a miracle literally moving within me, the aches and pains that weigh down my physique make me long for the day she is on the outside.  I don't want to fast-forward through the final weeks, but I'm not looking for the pause button either.

I guess this is a good balance, considering she will be my (as far as I can predict) last baby.

The realities of a new life coming have started to invade the home on a regular basis.  The crib is built, the curtains are hung, and pink little onesies are filling the drawers in the nursery.  Ten (or so) more weeks of growing, about a thousand loads of Dreft laundry, and we'll be all set for the coos and cries of a newborn to echo through the house.  (Well, there's a few more details than that, but you catch my drift!)

Growing...growing...not quite gone yet!

It's hard to imagine that my home is more quiet now than it will be in a few months.  It's exciting and terrifying, as I often have to plug my ears to keep from going insane from the squeals and screams of my 5-year-old and 3-year-old daughters.  No doubt this little one will have severe competition for attention the moment she enters the world.  Quiet is a rare virtue in our home (and often a prelude to either a giant mess being made/discovered or the calm before a storm of tears for whatever reason).

At the same time, I'm finishing up my Master's degree in Marriage & Family Therapy, with only 8 more weeks of school and internship to wrap up the two years of insanity I've put myself and my family through.  It is indeed, the home stretch on a huge chapter in our lives.  Life will look very different come mid-August, and it's difficult for me to wrap my brain around what's pending.

As crazy as it's been for the last two years, there is comfort in the known craziness.  As many sleepless nights, busy schedules, and constant to-dos as there have been, I'll admit there are parts of me worried and sad about saying good-bye to this temporary and tender season of our lives.  (Don't get me wrong, I'm ready to say "Sayonara" to homework forever!)

A new normal, a new chaos, a new crazy is just around the corner.  It's this unknown wilderness that awaits that easily stirs anxiety in my soul.  As I feel my baby hiccup in my belly as I type this, I'm reminded that no matter what, God's got us.  All of us.  (Yes, you too!)  He's never surprised at what's around the bend or who's in need of what or how long something seems to take.  He's never thrown off schedule, overwhelmed by tasks, or anxious about how it will all turn out.  He's got these next 10-ish weeks just like He's had the last zillion years and the zillion more yet to come.

Between two kids, deadlines, and baby kicks, I don't want to give you the illusion that I rest well at night just because I have a deep trust in God's provision and plan for us.  Life is HARD and loud and messy.  I laugh at the chaos as much as I worry and I weep with the best of you.

But, peace can be found among the sleepless.  Hope can be found among the restless.  Joy can be found among the fearful.  How?  Because it's the struggle and privilege of my heart, as weary and worn as it may be, to remain fixated on His steady faithfulness to me, and to keep finding humor and gratitude in the world around me.

Whew.  Guys.  This summer is gonna be FULL of crazy.  No doubt there are reasons to complain and throw in the towel each and every day.  But, in these final weeks of transition from a family of four to a family of five...of a family surviving grad school to a family sending one off to Kindergarten...I hope you'll see a family honestly determined to find moments of sweetness and blessing within the mess of it all.

What transitions are you or your family going through this summer?  What helps keep you focused on the joys of life and the goodness of God?

Verses For a Taxing Day

It's been a taxing day.  And I'm not talking W-4's and 1099's.

My girls (3 and 5) are just fighting.  Fighting allergies.  Fighting frustrations.  Fighting each other.  And fighting the plague of impatience that seems to have settled upon our house lately.

If you have (or used to have) little ones, you get how intolerably frustrating the sounds of whining, bickering, and demanding can be.  The incessant "Mom, mom, mom, mom, mom..." echoes through my ears like a fire alarm that won't quit (and whose batteries you hope die out before you smash it to smithereens).

My sleep is constantly disturbed.  The to-do list keeps growing.  The rain won't stop long enough to reprieve our cabin fever.  The noise-level in the home is having a contest with my blood pressure to see which one sky rockets faster. You get the picture?

Needless to say, we all have our moments where we wake up and just think "This is the life I chose and love...but, I just can't quite remember why at this very moment!"

Take a deep breath with me if you can relate.  Exhale.  I don't know about you, but I need a big mid-month dose of PEACE right about now.  I need me a serious gulp of PERSEVERANCE followed by a chaser of HOPE.

Drink up the truth.  Throw it back like a crazy lady who lives in the reckless abandon of a Sovereign Savior who's got this nutty world in the palm of His hand.  Join me in throwing my arms up in the air and letting Christ have the last word on WHY I'm in this time and place and how it makes a difference.

I hope you read the verses in this post and feel soothed, energized, encouraged, and restored.  I hope you remember you are so not alone!  Taxing days come and go.  We may not always get all the sleep we need.  We may not always get the to-do list completed.  But we can always rest knowing He's got it under control.

Maybe you don't have toddlers screaming in your face.  Maybe you have far deeper struggles than you know what to do with.  We've all got taxes to pay for the life that we lead.

But, no matter if you're tackling a laundry pile or a mountain of strife, HE CARES.

I leave you today with this prayer from the book "Calm My Anxious Heart" by Linda Dillow:

God, you know my feelings are going haywire; they scream and shout that this situation is terrible and that there is no hope.  God, I hope in You.  I can't see what You are doing, but I trust that You're working this situation together for good.  Thank You that You have promised to use it to make me more liek Christ.  Thi sis what I want - it just doesn't feel good today.  Give me the strength to focus my eyes on you and not on what I can see.

Dead Weight

The other night, amidst the wind and the rain of an autumnal thunderstorm, we heard a crrraaack followed by a THUD in the middle of the night.

Sure enough, when we looked out the window in the morning, a giant tree branch had split from one of the trees in our backyard.  It was giant and dangling precariously, so my husband got out the saw and put it out of its misery.

I didn't even know that branch was dead!  I had no idea that somewhere inside it was rotting and weak and doing no good whatsoever for the tree.  It was just hanging on, waiting to meet its demise.  It had no purpose.  It just was.  And now, that it's safely removed and out of the way, the tree can continue to be fruitful and grow as it is meant to.

[Hmm.  Suspiciously sounds like I'm about to make an analogy here.]

Now that I'm seeing clients on a regular basis, I'm so privileged to get to join with them in their various journeys.  I get to witness brokenness, growth, confusion, compassion, and progress - sometimes all in one day!  But, most commonly, I get to see dead weight fall to the side.  Dead weight they didn't even know they were carrying.  Dead weight that had no purpose but to take up precious energy and resources from them, stealing joy and creating roadblocks in their journey towards real growth.

Dead weight comes in many forms.  I'm constantly challenged to hand over my worries and concerns to God.  Again and again I am reminded that God is in control, and my weakling efforts to predict and protect my own future are zapping me of my opportunity to stretch my trust and faith in Him alone.  Sometimes my dead weight is a rotten self-image, or a jealous thought that corrupts my core.  Sometimes my doubt drains me dry and I can't help but feel forgotten.

Then, something wonderful happens.  Truth sets the dead weight free.  Truth like "You are fearfully and wonderfully made" or "For I know the plans I have for you" or "Perfect love drives out fear" and even those bits and pieces of a larger picture of Capital-T TRUTH that are deeply rooted in my soul help me shake free from the burden of deception that tries to hang on for good.

Sometimes those dead branches take years and years to rot until they are ready to truly break off.  Sometimes we don't even know they are zapping us dry inside.  Sometimes, like the branch in my yard, it can appear totally normal and part of the whole...until one day it becomes so obvious it was only standing in the way of progress.

We all have dead weight.  And sometimes it will take a thunderstorm to shake it loose before we even know it's there.  But, when that happens, get ready.  Sunshine and new growth are on the way.

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.

Ice Cream for Dinner

I don't particularly believe in "finding balance" in this life.  I think balance is a myth that's mostly idealized in our minds as an un-obtainable reality we long for.  BUT, I do believe in the ebb and flow of chaos!

If parenthood has taught me anything (and of course it has taught me many, many things) it's that my expectations in this life are forever blindsided by these little humans.  Mostly it comes in incredibly rewarding ways - but, flu bugs and bad dreams muddle up the best laid plans in this business.

When the chaos ebbs, life is normal.  There are the occasional storms of tantrums and troublemaking, but for the most part the routines sustain us.  That is, we coast through the normal in preparation for the possible hurricane lurking in the distance.

My oldest daughter will start kindergarten next year.  (That hurricane will come with it's own challenges, but it's still a ways off.)  But, due to schedules and insurance and a whole mess of unimportant details, I decided to go ahead and get her "Kindergarten Shots" taken care of just a couple weeks ago.

I'm a two-birds-one-stone kinda gal, so I brought both my girls into the Pediatrician for their annual "well" check-ups.  What I thought would be a weigh 'em, measure 'em, sort of experience turned into a full-fledged work up.  I'm thankful, don't get me wrong.  I'm SO grateful we live in a time and place where my kids can get their eyes and ears examined, blood pressure taken, etc. and it's part of a normal check-up and not some extraordinary gift that comes once in a lifetime like it is for too many children in other parts of this world.  We take it for granted so often, and I recognize this is an amazing privilege to just "go to the doctor" when they are not even sick!

However, I did NOT prep my eldest for her shots...and the time had finally come.  I wouldn't advise someone to necessarily not tell their kid about getting shots or not - my advice would first and foremost be "You know your kid best."  Period.

So, knowing my kid, knowing that she would have worked her anxious, sensitive-little-self into a tizzy (and by tizzy I mean blood-curdling-scream-fest-panic-attack that would sound like I was skinning a jaguar alive...so, yeah...kind of dramatic) I chose to hold off the news until the very last minute where I could plead innocence and blame the doctors instead.  (This may be a parenting cop-out, but at the end of the day I'm the one who she needs to trust most.) Whew.

So, I had laid awake all night before, worried that my precious child would find out I was a total TRAITOR as I gradually nudged her into the arms of the nurses and doctors who held her fate in a silver tray of FOUR shots they needed to inject into her little body.  (Please do not send me letters about vaccinations, sorry and thank you.)

It could have gone worse...but I'm not sure how.  It was over in probably a few seconds, but it felt like an entire decade went by as I held her and the extremely kind nurses held her down as she screamed in terror.  Yes, I'm making this sound awful - cause it was awful - but, then it was over.  It was over and I held her and assured her she was safe and okay and very, very brave.

And, as I explained to her in the car later, it was "a little bit of very bad for a whole lot of good".  How many times do I need to learn this lesson in my own life?  Again and again, apparently.  There are hard decisions in this life that seem impossible in the moment, but you know it will add up to long-term joy.  There's endless examples of foregoing temporary, instant gratification in exchange for greater goodness later.

The chaos flowed that day.  It was one of those weird days where nothing seemed quite right, schedules were off, and nothing else mattered beyond my reach.  We rented 3 redbox dvds, picked up Happy Meals and headed home emotionally exhausted.

But, as the eye of the storm came into sight and we restored our normality slowly, I took with me the reminder of how God provides us the bravery we need when the hurricanes come, when our days are blindsided with chaos, or when hard decisions don't always seem to make sense.

And then we ate ice cream for dinner.  

Not all instant gratification is bad, you know.  A little bit of good can go a long way at the end of a day covered in band-aids.  The waves of chaos subsided that night as we recovered from our weird little day.

We went to bed with bellies full of dessert and hearts full of relief, and I thanked God for the crazy days that help me appreciate the normal days.  The hard days He uses to shape and grow me.  The difficult days that seem full of terror and confusion.  The burdensome days that seem futile and never-ending.  Those are the days that bring the greatest rewards long-term.  The days that end in ice cream.

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.