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!

Father Time

For Mother's Day, I wrote a post that was really for the moms-to-be, for the moms who might be aching to celebrate, for the women who have yet to fulfill their dream of mothering and are sighing deeply in the midst of waiting.

photo cred: Molly Snelson
www.mathieuphoto.com

Well, this one's for the dads-to-be.  The other half of the couple-in-waiting to are so often overlooked when terms like "trying" or "infertility" get thrown around as if it were as simple as waiting for an Amazon package to arrive on your doorstep.  But, it's seldom that simple.  And, while the wives get cards and girls-nights-out and encouraging pats on the back, men who are waiting to be fathers rarely get the chance to express their own frustrations and pain, especially on days like this coming Sunday.

While it will seem like the rest of the world will be waking up to coffee and burned toast in bed, lovingly unwrapping gifts of goofy ties and humorous coffee mugs...I want to take a moment to talk to the dads who are still eager to clumsily hold that baby of his own someday.  God is using this time for you, guys, and you are not forgotten.

When my husband and I were hoping, waiting, praying for our firstborn to be conceived, it was a strange process for Josh.  Not only did he have to balance his own dreams of what fatherhood meant to him, but he had to care for mine as well.  And, for the first few months, I took it upon myself to relish in the burden of waiting.  Meanwhile, Josh confusingly wavered between sympathy and frustration, not knowing how much of the emotional toll was really his to claim.  And, I was too focused on my own body, desires, and anger to allow him any room to grieve and process in his own way.  After all, I was the one who would carry the baby, clearly it matters more to me.  No, that's terribly, terribly wrong.  And, looking back now, I'm sorry I didn't recognize that my husband's lack of expressing his emotions was a source of protection and comfort for me, and not in any way a  sign of his lack of investment.

After a few months of bearing the roller coaster of "trying" (by the way, don't we all just hate that term?) we breached a new level of understanding.  I shared with Josh how every month I didn't get pregnant felt like getting rejected from a job I was perfect for.  Here was a position that I dreamed about, had all the exact experience, knew I would be a great fit for, could commit to, and would do anything to get...yet, when I saw another pregnant woman or got my period, it was as if God Himself was turning me down in the middle of an interview.  I'm sorry, the position has already been filled.  Thanks, anyway.  No feedback.  No reasons.  No explanation.

This idea clicked with Josh, and the power of the analogy shed new light on his emotions.  Maybe he didn't know the pain of hoping to be pregnant, only to have hopes dashed in a single bathroom break once a month...but, he knew what it felt like to get rejected from a job opportunity, and that brought empathy into our relationship in a new way.

While he was able to relate to my emotions, however, it was months until I started to truly recognize his emotions invested in the experience.  It wasn't that he was holding out on me or keeping secrets about how he felt.  Like most men, he genuinely was unsure how to interpret the feelings he was experiencing.  Waiting to become a father is twofold for men, emotionally.  If there's two duties for a husband that seem to be nearly universal in most relationships, it's the need to provide and the need to fix.

These are wonderful characteristics.  They are simple, direct, and often effective when paired with a woman's ability to nurture and engage.  But, when it comes to conceiving a child, they are of little solace.  Josh could not provide an explanation, and he couldn't fix the problem - month after month.  We were waiting on the hand of God to intervene, and (as are most experiences with waiting for men) his impatience quickly manifested as anger and inadequacy.

Guys, this is totally valid.  Those feelings are not wrong or bad.  And, while your wife might be in need of a hug more than you going for a beer with the guys and taking a jog to blow off steam - waiting is a time to take care of your self as much as your spouse and your future family.  But, don't stop asking God for help.  Don't stop telling your wife why your angry (and direct that frustration at your Xbox instead of your fragile wife!)  Don't stop growing in this painful process that has the opportunity to truly shape you into the man you will have to be when those 3am diaper changes finally arrive.  You are becoming resilient.  You are becoming adaptable.  You are becoming a father right now.

A word to my mamas-to-be:  You are not alone in this.  Don't forget that your husband is your partner, your friend, your strongest advocate for what's best for you...not just your babymaker.  He loves you, he wants what you want, and the more you can team up toward the goal of becoming the people God wants you to be together the better parents you will make in the future, and the deeper the experience will be for the both of you.  If you feel alone, if you're not sure how your husband feels, Ask him.  If he doesn't know how he feels, believe the best about him.  His feelings matter as much as yours do, but you have to listen (sometimes to actions more than words) before you can interpret what he's saying.

This Father's Day, my husband will be hugged fiercely by our two daughters.  To the point of annoyance and insurmountable joy.  Fatherhood has brought my husband more challenges and happiness than probably anything else in life ever could, and I'm so grateful to know him in this role so intimately.  Fatherhood didn't begin when he changed our daughter's diaper or even when he held her for the first time.  It isn't counted in the number of ties or socks or silly crafts he will receive over the years, and it's not comprised of even the sweetest moments of butterfly kisses or storybook readings.

For Josh, and for many dads, Fatherhood began way back when God started shaping Josh moment-by-painful-moment into the man our family needed him to be.  God uses time as an element of conception just as much as any biological essence.  Dads-to-be, maybe you won't be unwrapping any goofy ties this Sunday, and maybe you will have to wait for a while longer before your baby is in your arms, but your joy can be complete today.  You already have everything you need to provide and fix what's within your responsibility.  And, I pray that God's timing continues to mold your marriage, as He did with mine, to create a unity welcoming of the child he's preparing for you.

In the meantime, know you are not alone.  Know you are a craft in progress.  Know you are enough.  Know you are understood in your anger and frustration.  And, Happy Father's Day...right now.

Bedtime Battles

I never imagined that bedtime with little ones would be easy, per se, but nothing could have prepared me for the battles my husband and I face with our girls every night around 6, 7, 8, 9pm or later.  Sigh.

I figured when I entered into motherhood that I was signing a sure-fire contract that guaranteed a dramatic loss in sleep.  I knew that I'd be up nursing a baby in the middle of the night, that there would come time for nightmares or extra drinks of water.  I imagined a wee one pleading for extra story books or being afraid of the dark.  This all seemed obvious to the territory I was about to encounter.  But, all this to say that I have greatly underestimated this monstrosity we call "bedtime".

It all looks so innocent!

Having a 4-year-old and 2-and-a-half-year-old sharing a room has not been without its challenges.  When we first threw them into the den together (lion's den, I mean) it took several weeks before the crying and gnashing of teeth yielded to a steady moan.  The hyperbole of having two little girls share a room is that there are moments so precious that you can hardly stand the cuteness, immediately followed by sounds of WWIII (or maybe WW Z) taking place.

One second they are gibberishly singing their rendition of "Sisters" from White Christmas at full volume, with giggles on beat and squeals of joy and clapping at the end.  Two seconds later, just as my full heart is returning to normal Grinch size, I hear thunks, clanks, yelling, growling, screaming and crying.

My shocked nervous system fluctuates instantaneously from thinking surely a tragedy has occurred, and if not, then I'm about to bring the hammer down on some serious naughtiness.  The distance between my full-fledged compassion, to my blistering parent-rage is a very short step.  It's like I've gone bipolar and I'm either Mother Theresa or Benecio Del Toro, nothing in between.

Bedtime clearly brings out the best/worst in my parenting skills.  The unpredictability of each night is one of the most frustrating factors to me.  While variety can be fun in other areas of my life, when it comes to schedule, I embrace structure.  Routine keeps me sane and on track, and certainly I think consistency is a key cornerstone to any parenting tactic (or so I've been led to believe).  But, our stringent routine seems to have zero bearing on the outcome of my children's sleepiness.

They could have played outside all day, gone swimming, or to an amusement park, or to the library, or shopping, or all of the above...and they would fight going to bed.  They could have had a quiet day at home, with limited distractions, calming music or storybooks, healthy meals and a decent rest time...and they would fight going to bed.  By the time they actually fall asleep, they could sleep through the night, or they could be up four times.  They could come crawl up into our bed half-way into the night.  THERE'S JUST NO TELLING.

I'm not sure if I'm writing this post to reach out for advice, prayers, or outright sympathy (I'm not beyond this).  But, mostly, I just wanted to throw this truth out there to let other zombie-mothers know they YOU ARE NOT ALONE.  I've read multiple "sleeping" books.  I feel like I've tried it all (I'm sure I have not, and I'm open to your input!) And the craziest thing is, my children function well and don't appear tired...they just don't sleep.  (I should probably mention that I come from a long line of terrible sleepers, so yes this is definitely hereditary to an extent!)

One thing's for certain, my zombie-cubs are keeping me on my toes for seeking new, unattainable levels of grace and patience that I never knew existed.  My consumption of coffee in the morning is probably directly proportionate to the number of times I grasped at mercy the night before.  It might be a long time until my kids get the hang of how genuinely sweet the gift of sleep truly is, but until that day comes, I'm prayerful that these chaotic hours of my day are not wasted on frustration.

I'm losing plenty of bedtime battles, but in the long run, I think I'm winning a new capacity for compassion (or appreciation for it!) which can only come from God's grace.

God bless the sleepless parents out there!  Keep it up - you're in good company!

Fresh Start

I'm BACK!  Hello world, hello new year, hello FRESH START and new beginnings.

Last year was CRAZY and I don't expect any less insanity in 2014.  It will surely be different craziness, as I don't plan on moving 2,000 miles with two toddlers and embarking on a entirely new course for my life by starting grad school.  Still, the year ahead marks a milestone of transition that is in process as we continue to grasp our bearings on our new life in Nashville.

For many of you, the new year started last week, when the clock struck midnight and your diet kicked into full swing.  But, despited the blanket of ice that has immobilized the surrounding metropolis, today is a day of MOVEMENT in my soul for the coming months ahead.

Each year brings change.  Change is rarely comfortable, and so preparing for a new horizon of possibilities can feel daunting at times.  As I rested over the holidays (oh, and also worked my buns off at the mall handling the wackiest of customers) I was reminded how my actions are merely a reflection of the strength God provides me.

I do because He did.  Not the other way around.

I felt fear in looking ahead at my schedule for the coming year:  All the obligations I have as a mother to wipe noses and make sure I hug and kiss enough and read the right story books and get them to eat at least one vegetable.  All the passion I have as a wife to serve my husband well and encourage him and speak truth to him and love him with genuine respect and admiration and romance.  All the fortitude and determination I sink into being a grad student, the piles of books and papers and the unattainable task to always be the best in class.  All the anxiety and excitement of taking on my first clients for therapy and being vulnerable enough to absorb the critiques of my supervisors.

It's a lot.  It's too much for me.  But, it's not too much for my God, and not a surprise to Him at all that I recognize my weakness through the challenges of the life I'm living.

There are a lot of goals I have for 2014, but essentially they all culminate into one word:  thrive.  I don't want to just survive anymore.  I don't want to just see what's in store for the day and check boxes that get me from A to Z.  I don't want to just look down and see the tracks I've made in the path behind me, but I want to stake out new ground, uncover new strengths, and seek out fresh perspectives that I've never known before.

There are many midnights ahead of us to create, and recreate continual resolutions for the days ahead.  We can each take refuge in the strength we don't have by resting in the assurance of the stronghold that we do.  Thank you God for a fresh start, for the chance to change, to refine, to restore.  Thank you for new years and new opportunities.  Your grace is like new fallen snow, even as my dirty black boots trudge through the unchartered areas.

Thank you for the future.  Here I come.

Finals Week: Hiatus

Stack of books, Jesus mug of coffee, fried brain cells, lack of sleep.  It can only mean one thing....FINALS WEEK!

PARDYMAMA is on hiatus until next week.  Pray for my sanity and my survival.  You know there'll be some epic tales to come from all this...

See you next week. zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

TBT: Contagious

I wrote this post about a year ago, and I can't believe how LITTLE my baby Daphne was!?  I sure needed this reminder today, to pause and appreciate this season of life that is going to pass by in a flash.  I hope it provides you some focus and encouragement as well.  


Tis the season...for germs.  Time to stuff the stockings with Purrell and trim the tree with Kleenex, right?  Oh man, it seems like just about everywhere I turn someone is coughing or sniffling.  I'm feeling MUCH better (thank you, Lord!) than a few days ago, but awoke Wednesday morning to a sick husband and a sick baby!  (Somehow my three-year-old, Matilda, is so far getting through this week unscathed.  My best guess is that her super-human energy allows her to dodge most germs simply out of sheer speed!)

If anything trumps not feeling well...it's watching those you love not feel well.  Luckily, a couple long naps, vitamins, and decongestants seemed to ward off any real health villains for my husband; but, unfortunately the baby has not been so triumphant.  Is there anything worse than a sick baby?

What's worse (in my book, anyway) is that she didn't catch a cold...she caught a tummy flu bug.  UGH!  Wah-waaaah.  The poor sweetie bear.  Again, the only thing worse than cleaning up disgusting germs is having to watch your pitiful little 16-month-old stare at you blurry-eyed with her sad gaze of "Why mommy?" going unanswered.  Gosh, it just breaks my heart!

Having two kids and one of them be sick is a whole other ball game.  Instead of the usual Get off your sister, you're killing her! you have to referee them with a new initiative:  Don't touch your sister, you'll get sick!  You have to quarantine them both the best you can and about halfway through the day - by the time the sick one has sneezed on the other one, they've accidentally swapped sippy cups, and you catch them cuddling and just can't bear to break up the love-fest...well, you just cross your fingers and pray the plague doesn't go any further.  What's a mom to do?

Taking care of a sick baby is such a weird, odd, terrible little gift that I think God gives us moms.  I mean, it's awful, for sure.  If I could bubble-wrap my kids and shampoo them in Purrell, I'm sure I would, don't get me wrong.  It only takes one heinous Yankee-candle-of-all-diapers to convince you that baby-flu-bug is certainly the doing of the Devil himself.  Ugh.

But, since we do live in a fallen world where illness exists, why not take this moment to try and recognize God among the yuckiness?  Anything's possible here.  So, honestly, I feel the presence of Jesus when I am stopped COLD in my footsteps to throw everything else out the window in that moment and care for my baby.  Dishes stink.  Clothes rumple.  Floors crumb-up.  Whatever.

Daphne has not been able to nap in her crib the last two days.  Not a wink.  I'll rock or nurse her completely to sleep, multiple times, but as soon as I lay her down she springs up screaming and won't stop.  The only way she has been able to sleep during the day has been cuddled up ON me.  The first time was heartwrenchingly wonderful.  Endearing.  The kinds of moments you dream about as a mother.

The next few times...well, it progressively got awkward and a bit burdensome.  With an energetic 3-year old vying for attention, it just wasn't exactly the ideal situation.  Not only that, but when you have a 22 lb. anchor on your chest you can't exactly get anything done during the day.  This is when it occurred to me:  Shut up, Emily.  Sit still.  Look at your baby.  

Whoa, okay.  Right.  Put the iPhone down and focus on the present.  WHY is this so hard to do?  (Granted, I was glad I had the phone there just to capture the moment!)  I want to remember that feeling.  I wish I was the kind of person who never needed to be forced to STOP and smell the roses (or the baby), but I am.  I'm just so grateful that I could soak that up, as best I could (even if there was a dancing Matilda in the background at times) and allow that baby to smother her germy self into my body for that moment.

How many times does this happen in our lives?  How much longer will she turn to me for that amount of comfort?

It's such a challenge to hold still these days.  It's increasingly difficult to be thankful for tiny things like fragile babies with vomit-covered jammies and greasy hair and diaper rash.  It's frustrating to have our daily schedules overturned and interrupted and entirely disregarded.  But...it's so insanely worth it.

We always talk about how this baby/toddler stage of life goes by in a blink.  But, you know, if we can just slow down once in a while (even if that's only when the germs of life slow them down) then we get to capture a silent, beautiful moment where nothing else in the world matters but this sacred, sweet gift of our very own baby needing us for who we are - mom.  It may go by in a blink...but, we're in the midst of it right now...the part where your eyes are closed and you can still hear your heart beating outside your body.  Inhale, exhale.  Everything can wait.


I hope I remember this moment.  Maybe it's even contagious.

Kids for Sale

It's been a trying week.  Work, school, and life in general are swirling about me in non-stop motion.  I told my husband late one night that I felt like I was sucking water from a fire hose underneath an avalanche.  My girls have also been annoyingly "sort of sick" throughout the week.  You know the kind - just sick enough to keep them out of play dates and church nursery, to keep them whining throughout the day and night, to keep them crabby and demanding...but not sick enough to get snuggles or have them slow down at all.  How is it that kids can run a slight fever and run around the house like maniacs all at the same time?

classic hug-turned-strangle situation

Don't get me wrong, of course I don't want my kids to be so sick that they can't play.  I'm glad that their sniffles don't slow them down and that they are generally healthy as caged zoo monkeys.  But, it is exhausting to be with them and trapped in the house day after day trying to not let "The Little Mermaid" songs drive you batty.

As I was folding a volcanic mountain of laundry last night, I realized that God probably infiltrated stay-at-home-motherhood with mundane tasks like that (or doing dishes, or picking up toys, or wiping noses) so that we could feel again and again I'm so good at this to make up for the rest of the day filled with the frustrating doubts and infuriating challenges of thinking I can't handle these kids! What am I doing?!

I might not enjoy folding laundry or doing dishes or generally cleaning up after my little tornadoes, but it does fill me with a sense of pride that I can actually accomplish something ridiculously well in the midst of such loud, incessant, irrational pandemonium.  When I can stack a pile of clothes perfectly straight (which, inevitably get knocked over within seconds of completion), I can take one second of pride in the fact that I'm overqualified for the chores that this job requires.

Then, in the midst of a knock-down-drag-out battle over who gets to buckle Minnie Mouse in the toy stroller, it helps me take a deep breath and remember that I really have NO idea what I'm doing, but I'm still going to be okay.  This is normal.  This is motherhood.  And as quickly as the brawling began, it will all be over and we will probably all be crying into bowls of ice cream at 9 in the morning.

grumpy is as grumpy does

Early in the week, when I could have sworn it was almost bedtime and then realized we hadn't even had lunch yet (tick, tock) I had to just pray pray pray for the fruit of the Spirit to get me through.  I love these little beings more than my own life, and yet there are times I'm ready to post them in the FREE section of craigslist.  As I was literally knocked over the head with a lego block, I clenched my fists and bit my tongue.  And, in that split second all I could think was HOW in the world does God not just smite us all off the face of the planet each and every day?!?

If blatant disobedience, irrational fighting, and incessant demands are all it takes for me to lose my cool (and that's putting it lightly) then I have no capacity for understanding the grace of God and how the heck He compassionately forgives my stupidity day after day, hour by hour.  I need to tap into that mercy.  I need to channel that kind of only-through-Jesus compassion.  I need the patience that surpasses all rationale to be able to be the parent my girls need.

The reality is, I'm going to lose my mind in front of my girls sometimes.  I lose my temper so often I'm thinking of getting a GPS tracker for it.  Praise be, that I live in a place and time where I don't have to parent these hooligans all alone, and I have the greatest resource available as a mother - a Holy Spirit who puts up with my nonsense and extends me ridiculous amounts of undeserved mercy to help me get through the day, and reminds me how priceless this season truly is.

FOUR

Four years ago today, I was getting stuck with an epidural.  Three attempts later, I looked up to see my husband passed out on the floor, shirt stripped off his back, getting oxygen from one of the nurses.  Really?!  Really.

Nine hours later, I met my daughter for the first time.  There's nothing like welcoming your first born into the world.  Nothing like nursing her for the first time.  Nothing like looking into the eyes of a baby you've dreamt about your entire life.  Nothing like becoming a mother overnight.

Before my husband and I even conceived Matilda, we imagined the children we would bring into the world.  It took us nearly a year to get pregnant, and in the ups and downs of the months that went by, we grew more hopeful and more frustrated.

I remember at one point telling him, "It's strange.  On one hand I feel like we're not even ready for a baby, and on the other it feels like we should have a four-year-old and a couple more by now."  I guess it seemed to me that there was such an eternal perspective about our journey together that I couldn't piece together the here-now and the yet-to-come.

And now...here she is...our four-year-old.

Becoming a parent is a limitless experience.  Every day has its aggravations and its deep joys.  I'm sending a child to the corner in one minute, and the next I'm being tackled with snuggles so fierce I can't imagine my life without it.  It's been said that having a baby is like watching your heart walk around outside your own body, and that's just about the best metaphor I can imagine.

My heart's been walking in the world for a full four years today.  She is the most gifted, loud, charming, assertive, creative, frustrating, imaginative, unpredictable, thoughtful person I know.  I like her very, very much, and I'm incredibly blessed to get to love her as well.

The thing about becoming a parent is that you don't get to choose who your kid will be.  They are the only people that you will forever be obligated to that you have no choice as to who they are.  You get to grow up and leave home,  you can distance yourself from other relatives if need be, you get to choose your friends and your spouse...but kids...well, they are a prayer and roll of the dice.

I don't know who Matilda will grow up to be exactly, but I'm four years in and absolutely mesmerized by who she is.  Children have a way of enjoying the world around them that we tend to lose as we grow up.  She challenges me, humbles me, and brings me to my knees in prayer more than anyone ever has, and I'm so grateful for that.  Each birthday is not only a celebration of her life, but a chance to thank God for the opportunity to have become a mother through this little being.

Someday she won't need me in the same way she needs me now.  The days of her youth are fleeting, and I know in a flash I'll be transported to a new role as our relationship develops in the years to come.  I pray each day that I can share in her life, deepen my liking and love for her, and always remember that on November 1, 2009, my life was changed for the better forever.

Happy Birthday my darling, and thank you.  xoxo.

Keep it Simple: Confessions of a Mult-Tasker

Women are known to be superior multi-taskers.  Mothers are the super-human versions of the ultimate multi-tasker, wearing multiple hats that help them meet the needs of others, their home, and themselves.

This morning, my 2-year-old woke me up at 4am.  I heard the "click-clunk" of her door opening and her little feet pattering in hall coming my way.  I got out of bed, met her at the doorway, and scooped her up in my arms.  She didn't say anything, no crying or whining, and she simply melted into my neck as I breathed in whole hunks of her whispy hair that still smelled of sleepiness.

Who knows what woke her up?  A bad dream, a strange sound, or maybe just restlessness had prompted her to crawl out of her crib at an ungodly hour and come find comfort.  Either way, she just needed her mama.

I rocked her in my arms a bit before returning her to bed.  I swayed back and forth, stroking her hair and rubbing her little back, remembering the hours I would spend doing this when she was but an infant.  I am so grateful for these times when my being provides everything that is an answer to her needs - I know it won't always be so simple.

In my weariness, this sweet moment made me nostalgic, and I thought to myself - Oh how I wish I could only be a mother.  I laid my sweet baby in her bed and snuck quietly out of the room, miraculously not waking her sister laying in the toddler bed only a foot away.  I went to go back to sleep, and spent the next hour pondering the sadness of my nostalgic thought.

Then, it occurred to me:  What if I gave myself the freedom to just be a mother? What would it look like to just let myself do that?  I don't need to be everything all at once all day long.  I can't be.  Why am I trying to be, for goodness sake.

I'm wearing a lot of hats these days.  As a wife and mother, a writer, and a grad student, I often feel like I'm working three full-time jobs with no pay.  My days are filled with the hazy lines of where one part of me ends and the other begins.  I find myself increasingly frustrated with not being able to "find balance" or multi-task beyond my capacity.

When I first became a mother, I had three glorious months of maternity leave.  I stayed home, stared at my baby, and knew it was a sacred time in my life that would be short-lived.  It wasn't "easy" by any means, but it was simpler and such a special time in my life that it needs no romanticism to be remembered as lovely.

When I returned to work, I had a new schedule that included working from home one day a week.  This started off fine - as my newborn slept on and off throughout the day and remained immobile in her swing or bouncy seat while I did the work I needed to do.  However, as my baby grew, so did her needs; and it wasn't long before I yearned for the separation between work and home as I chased my crawling child, made a phone call, attempted to nurse her, and answered emails all at the same time.  It was crazy-business, and it made both jobs SO much harder.

Here I am again.  I have two kids who I desperately want to engage with.  I have the luxury of being able to stay at home with them and be with them.  And I am constantly allowing myself to be bogged down with the pressures of work and school that are all vying for first place in a mental race inside my head.

I'm needing to re-establish some serious boundaries in my life.  I'm realizing that motherhood is the only job that doesn't allow for you to tell others "I'm sorry, can't you see I'm working right now?  That will have to wait."  If I was sitting in a cubicle at a computer, I would never expect another employer to walk up to me and ask me to mop the floor while I was sitting there.  See what I mean?  So, why am I expecting myself to be able to work for multiple "employers" all at the same time?  I'm just being a bad boss if that's what I expect.

I need to let work be work time (even if it's at 5 in the morning like today), let school be school time (even if it means watching less TV), let couple time be couple time (oh yeah, I have a husband I adore), and let mommy time be mommy time.  I want to want to be there for my kids.  I'm tired of letting my other (albeit important) tasks interrupt the focus of my life.

I needed to be reminded that life can be simple.  It can be me, holding my child, just swaying and praying, and that is more than enough to take up all of me in that moment.  I'm praying now for God to help me be able to establish clear lines of how to appreciate it all, but not feel like I need to do it all at once.  I'm called to be a wife and mother, a writer, and a grad student at this time in my life.  This season is not as simple as I might have once thought it would be, and maybe you know how this feels too.

How many jobs are you trying to do at once?

If you're like me, then it's rare that you just hold your kid and only be a mom for a moment.  I'm always thinking ahead to the next chore on my list:  what emails need to be sent, what chapters need to be read, that project I'm presenting, that paper that's due soon, what blog should I be working on, that article I'd like to write, those contacts I need to connect with, that phone call I should return. those library books that are overdue, the milk that's running low, the meat I forgot to thaw, the oil change that my car needs, the birthday card I have to get, that check I need to mail, etc. etc. etc.

Welcome to the mind of a woman, right?

How did my life get so crazy that I'm trying to juggle all these things at once!?  (And I'm guessing your life is no less crazy - we each have our own version of juggling mayhem!)  I remember learning to juggle tennis balls in gym class.  I was never very good at juggling, but one thing I do know is that when you learn to juggle, you don't throw all the balls up in the air all at once - you'll only watch them all fall down in chaos.  But, if you keep your eye on one ball at a time, you can get into a rhythm that allows you to focus on each one of them in their given time.

I know I can't always keep the boundaries from intersecting.  Sometimes I will have to stop swinging my girls and take a phone call.  Sometimes I'll need to put my kids in front of the TV so I can cook dinner or write an urgent email.  And sometimes it will be a great example for my girls to see that their mom loves what she does by using the gifts that God has given me and why it's important to work hard.

But...most times...being a mom is the only thing I need to be for my kids.

They don't need me to be a student, or a writer, or a great cook, or a perfect housekeeper, or a super hero.  I can't juggle it all on my own, and I want my girls to grow up knowing that I didn't!  I have a supportive team and a mighty God who is here to keep me in line and encourage me along the rocky road of life.  And, I have two sweet daughters who gave me the (literal) wake-up call to remember how simple it really can be.

[Time to put the computer away.  My mommy shift is about to start.]

When God Shows Up on the Way to Old Navy

I originally guest blogged this post for my friend Stephanie over at A Wide Mercy.

Here is the post in full...

When Stephanie asked me to write a blog about taking a leap of faith, I about fell out of my chair. If she had asked me even the week before, I would have had plenty to tell. Three months ago, my husband and I moved 2,000 miles with two toddlers and no job in sight. However, at this moment, I knew exactly what God was telling me to write, and that wasn’t it. 

I had two hours of free time. FREE time. Child-free time. And, this just about never ever happens for me. My husband had just that morning received an official offer of a job that we’d been praying about for months, so I was feeling on top of the world that afternoon. Our journey of unemployment had come to a sudden halt, and I was ready to celebrate. The relief of having a couple hours to myself brought on the most delicious of problems: What shall I do with my time?


It took me about two seconds to decide to go shopping. As any mother knows, the freedom to try on clothes at your leisure without someone griping at you and pulling on your arms is a gift unlike any other. This mama was SET on some seriously selfish time to go blow some cash on a new dress! Woohoo! Old Navy, here I come!

I walked out the door, confident and totally full of myself. I couldn’t remember the last time I had gone out by myself without an errand like “remember diapers” or “stop for milk” attached to it in some way. I was thrilled with the notion of escape and ready to appease my inner bargain hunter with some new duds.

As I took my exit, I saw her. A woman around my age, sweaty and in clothes much too small for her. She held a cardboard sign which read, “Please help. Need diapers. God bless.”  My heart sunk at the thought of who those diapers must be for, and I reached over and as I shuffled my hand around my purse, I realized I had no cash on me. Traffic progressed forward, and so did I. I turned and said a quick prayer for her. Poor thing. That must be rough. But, who knows, maybe she’s not even telling the truth. She probably just wants money. She probably doesn’t even have a kid.

I turned onto the road toward Old Navy and came to a stop sign. I could see the store in the distance, calling to me with the empty promises of consumerism that will fulfill my every insecurity. And then – GOD SPOKE. (How do I know it was God? Because I know myself pretty well, and I would never tell myself this. I wanted a new dress, after all).  God said, “Are you sure you want to go buy a new dress you don’t need when you live in a world where someone is asking you for diapers?” 

I rolled my eyes. I sat at the stop sign a full minute. I sighed and made a deal. Ok, God. I will go all the way back around. But, if she’s not there, then I’m coming back for that dress. Okay? I’m pretty sure this is when God rolled His eyes at me too.

I didn’t just turn around. Remember, she was at an EXIT. So, I had to literally drive another mile, do a u-turn, and then flip my hazards on and pull up to the corner where the exit let out. The whole way I was making excuses. God, seriously? Look how much trouble this is! I’m holding up traffic! I’m taking so long, she probably won’t even be there anymore! She was.She ran up, and I rolled down my window. And all of a sudden she was a real human, staring me in the face. She had a name. And a daughter. And a need.

I told her I would run to Target, that I had some things to get anyway, and could she meet me over at that parking lot by the bank in about an hour? She could.

I went into Target with a weird nervousness. I was on a mission, and it had nothing to do with me. God spoke, I listened, and now He was providing. You’d think this would have hit me in the face earlier in the day when we had been given the gift of a new job after three months of unemployment. Indeed, we were struck with gratitude for God’s provision…and there I was, ready to go blow it at Old Navy. Instead, I was blessed with the new opportunity to pass it on, pay it forward, and spread the love that had been shown to me just as readily. What’s more? When God tells you to do something and you do it, He makes it easy on you. The diapers that she needed were on clearance that day – go figure. So, I got her the BIG box, and I didn’t stop there.

I don’t just serve the God who meets needs. I serve the God that goes above and beyond…and that’s who I needed to reflect. I picked up a little stuffed animal for her daughter, and a small book of bedtime prayers with real verses inside.  I got some water and healthy snacks for them, and some nutritious toddler food as well. I didn’t know what to get, and it really didn’t matter. I just prayed, and purchased, and packed my trunk in the name of Jesus.She found me in the parking lot where I met her daughter and two male friends. I have no idea who these people are…but, I know God, and I know He doesn’t make mistakes when He creates life. 

I handed them the Target bags and they were incredible grateful.  And then, I told them my  story. I told them all how God had just blessed my family with a new job and that’s exactly why I’m able to be used to bless them now. I told them God cares, and it’s not easy out there.  I’m so sorry that you’re going through this rough time, but this is not the end of your story. And, then, I prayed for them. OUT LOUD and in the name of Jesus Christ. I prayed for their protection, their provision, and that they would be encouraged and dependent on Jesus alone to provide a way for them to be able to bless someone in return very soon.

I reached out, I looked them all in the eyes, I hugged the little girl and put my hands on the shoulders of the mother. I was human with them. WITH them.

And then, I got in my car and drove home to my girls and my shelter and my belongings I don’t deserve. I repented from my selfishness and thanked God for the opportunity to be part of something that made a tangible difference and reminded me of my ongoing need for Him alone. I thanked Him not only for His provision, but also His graciousness in overlooking my doubt and utilizing my stubbornness and turning it into ACTION.

Opportunities are everywhere. I’m amazed at what God places in front of us when we just start to ask Him to show us. Sometimes it is scary. It almost NEVER makes any sense at the time. We can almost ALWAYS justify a way out of it. But, when I put myself out there and make myself available to His work, taking action becomes the easy part.

A leap of faith doesn’t have to look like abandoning security and traveling 2,000 miles with two toddlers.Sometimes it looks like a trip to Target where you find diapers on clearance. Look out. Look around. 

You’re right in the middle of your next chance to act.

Victory!

Guys.  I'm starting this story at the end, and trust me, you will still want to read it after I tell you the best part.  Here goes:  The job search is over.  JOSH GOT A JOB!

I've had a bottle of champagne sitting at the back of my fridge allllll summer, and now - it's time to celebrate!  I am beyond thrilled to announce that after three and a half long months, my husband is going to be the Marketing Coordinator at a local, private school. Hallelujah!  Praise be!  Thank you, Jesus!

And now that you know the ending, just wait until you hear the whole story...

He first applied for a job at this school about 10 weeks ago (whew!)  It was actually for a different  position, and one that he was unsure of taking.  He knew he could do it, but if you asked him what he would truly want to do, what his gifts and desires were directing him towards, he would have told you his dream job would have been to step over fully into a marketing position.  Truth be told, it took a bit of a prayer and twisting of his arm to get him to apply in the first place.  But we prayed about it, and he knew our God was not limited to an application, and so he took yet another step of faith and wholeheartedly put his hat in the ring.

A good six weeks later, he accepted a position at Trader Joe's, a local grocery store that we love (and who's roots are in California, so it really felt like a piece of home for us!)  We are SO incredibly grateful to Trader Joe's, and we were bursting at the seams to tell everyone that he got hired there - except that, the day after he started there, the school finally called to interview him!  All this to say, we've kept silent about this job journey the last several weeks because we didn't want any potential employers to question the loyalty or schedule of what we were pursuing.

You get it.  Job hunting is hard enough!  It was the best problem we'd had in weeks - to have been hired at a (albeit, most likely temporary) position while interviewing for a prestigious opportunity.  We didn't want to confuse the situation by having "Found a job!" posted on a status update and muddling the unemployed waters.  So, thanks for understanding and respecting our roll-out of this info!

A couple interviews at the school later, and God shook the very ground we were standing on.  After interviewing Josh for a different position, the head of the school saw something in him that revealed the talents and passion he had for marketing.  It was one of the most affirming moments I've witnessed in his life, and I'm so grateful God placed someone at the right place and time to recognize and distinguish this in him.  Two more interviews (and a few more weeks) later...and it's official.  He got the job.

We are ELATED.  We are so so so so grateful.  We are blown away by the goodness of others and the goodness of God.  A year ago I would have told you that we would have NEVER moved here without a job, or that it would be impossible to do so, or that it would be irresponsible, or that there's just no way we could have survived three and a half months with no income.  But, here we are.  Because....because God.  The end.  Because we listened and obeyed, and really, really, really NOTHING more.  God made it all happen.  Only God.

And here's where I get real honest with you.  Here's the part where you are feeling all "oh, how nice that worked out for you" and I'm about to blow that thought right out of the water for you...so, just keep reading.

The night before we got the job, God told me something.  He said, plain and simply, "You know that if he gets this job it doesn't solve your problems, right?  Only I can do that."  I kind of brushed that off and said another prayer for the job, and then I BEGGED God for the job and then I thanked God and still said "but, please God, seriously, please let him get this job".  I didn't quite let what God told me sink in all the way.  I wanted Josh to get that job.  It would be A problem solved, and so my heart and mind were set on that.

Then, he got the job.  And, I felt relief.  I felt joy.  But...I didn't feel any more secure than I had the day before.  In fact, neither Josh nor I jumped up and down like we had in the past when much smaller victories were won (You got a call baaaack!!!!  You got an interviewwwww!!!)  Not this time.  This time was different.

Josh got the job.  Hallelujah.  But, that's not the victory here.  The victory - the moral to the story - is the three and a half freaking months that came before the job.  The miracle is the survival, the journey, the long road of impatience and questions and doubting.  The loving marriage that sustained the waves of tumultuous worry.  The food on the table brought by friends.  The cards of encouragement and support sent by loved ones.  The pride found in working a blue-collar job.  The strength of a family cared for by a community and body of Christ.  THAT'S OUR VICTORY.

I never could have guessed it.  Even a few weeks ago I could have told you what this blog post could have looked like - a long and relentless bragging about my husband and how awesome he is and how good God is for rewarding his efforts.  No.  Not at all.  Don't get me wrong - Josh is my hero - but, we're giving credit where credit is surely due, and that goes entirely to Jesus.

Here's something else - Satan hates it when we give Jesus the credit.  And today, just as we were eager to awake with feelings of assurance and celebration, we were spiritually attacked from all sides as Satan did his best to steal our joy and distract us from the goodness of God.  I'm really being honest here, gang.  Today was ROUGH.  Even my daughters were stressed out and overly emotional and the littlest things seemed like the end of the universe in our home.  Each one of us was in a terrible mood, annoyed and frustrated, irrationally snappy and completely out of sorts.

We literally had to stop in the middle of our morning and pray aloud in our living room to just invite the Holy Spirit to be present with us, to help us focus on His peace and faithfulness, and to not let anything distract us from the beauty of the moment and the assurance of God's goodness.

But, here we are.  We are here to CELEBRATE and let you know that God IS good.  Wholly good.  And the job is wonderful...but, it is merely a facet in the structure that is our lives as they should be lived out according to God's will.  We are grateful - but, not fooled by the false sense of security that money and benefits offer in this world.  We are humbled, and we are sincerely blessed by the long three and a half months where our faith was stretched far beyond the boundaries of our liking.

Thank you, thank you, thank you - to each of you who prayed for us, supported us, encouraged us, and fought the good fight through the victory of the wait.

God is using us here.  God has big plans for us.  God is good - really - all the time.

We're so grateful to celebrate God's goodness with you!

Content

We all know what a Table of Contents is, right?  That page at the beginning of a book that outlines the parts that make up the information given in the pages ahead.  It's the big, overarching themes that sum up the in-between parts that give you an idea of the whole before you have even had a chance to understand it all.

The Table of Contents of my life might look something like this:

• The wife who forgot about dinner
• The mother who hands her toddlers her iPhone 
• The writer who can't remember that one word
• The student who asks too many questions
• The overwhelmed human who needs rest
• The repentant prayer warrior who is reminded of her needs
• The healed sinner who found peace again

One of those things by itself wouldn't totally describe me, but together, they can give you an honest glimpse into the life that I live - and this would only cover maybe one normal day!  The content of our lives says a lot about who we are, a lot about who we think we are, and a lot about where our values and dependencies lie.

Am I content with the content of my life?

I heard something today at Bible Study that was perfectly put - today, there seems to be an "epidemic of discontent" among society.  I couldn't have said it better myself.  So many times, I'll hear or read or see moms (and not just moms, of course) who are either feeling guilty about the life they should be leading or feeling guilty about living they life they already are.  

How can we find contentment?

The word CONTENT is what is called a homograph.  It's two or more words that look alike but have  different meanings:

con-tent:  that which may be perceived in something

con-tent:  satisfied with what one is or has

Just because something looks to hold everything we might have always have wanted, doesn't mean that it represents everything that makes us whole.  Your Table of Contents might be perceived as everything that should make you content...but, instead, it could have a very different meaning. 

In other words, whenever I lack contentment in my life, it's time to examine the content.  

Where is Jesus in the midst of my toddler throwing noodles at me in the middle of lunch?  Where is Jesus when I want to cry into my pile of laundry?  Where is Jesus when I feel guilty about wanting to get out of the house by myself?  Where is Jesus when I'm taking my blessings for granted?

Jesus is the content for my contentment.

I have no hope to get it all right.  I have no hope for feeling like enough, especially when my focus is on myself.  But, pursuing Jesus and injecting Him into the CONTENT of my life will bridge the gap of my seeking and finding the contentment I'm in need of.

Contentment doesn't look like sitting still.  It doesn't look like a pond with no ripples.  In fact, the closer I get to Jesus and asking Him to reveal to me how I can inject more of HIM into my day, the more motivated I become to not seek anything else.  The more motivated I am to inspire others to do the same.  The more motivated I become to fulfill who I'm called to be for Him.  And, the more the content of my life resembles a content human resting in the assurance that I am trusting a God who knows what's better for me than I do.

If I'm going to let God be the author of my life, I'd better be willing to let Him start with the Table of Contents.

Early

Early morning light.

I would not call myself a "morning person".  I loathe the sound of an alarm, and since sleep is sometimes hard to come by around here, I genuinely cherish it when I get to partake.

However, nearly equal to my need for sleep, is my need for quiet time.  

As my girls grow and get louder and louder (seriously, I think their volume increases daily) I find myself praying for peace and quiet (and patience!) on a regular basis.  In the midst of homework and housework, it doesn't seem like too much to ask for a gal to get some silence once and a while.  Right?

Time management hasn't always been a strong suit of mine, but necessity has lent me whole new abilities I didn't even know I had the capacity for.  While my prayers for God to suddenly create the 30-hour-day go unanswered (well, unanswered with a 'yes', anyway) my prayers for "finding time" have not.

It was 3:58 in the morning when I woke up today.  This isn't just early, this is ungodly in my book.  The wee hour of the day when it is not-yet-morning and too-late-to-be-nighttime.  And, it seemed so entirely unreasonable to get up and out of bed by choice.

This has been happening to me about once a week lately.  And, to my surprise, I don't entirely hate it.  Mind you, the first several minutes when I wake I'm questioning my sanity and trying to justify a million reasons why I should ignore this prompting to get up and utilize the "free time".  I let the wheels in my head turn for a while before I'm entirely convinced it is worth any while at all.

Then, I got up.  I came downstairs.  I made coffee, and here I am, sitting in the wonderful QUIET chatting with all of you in the only moment this day might give me where my focus can be held for more than a minute's time.  And I'm loving it.

I used to hear about people getting up before the sun and thought they had lost their minds.  I thought we should banish them to some island far away from normal stay-up-late-and-drink-coffee-until-noon people like myself.  I still prefer to reside in the comfortable category of those who would rather sleep in.  I don't think I'm ready to call myself a morning person yet by any means (zombie, maybe, but not morning person).

But, I'm reminded as I take advantage of sweet, calm moments like this that God is providing ALL I need...even peace and quiet within a week filled with deadlines and screaming children and too-high-of-expectations on myself (yeah, we're going to have to eat frozen pizza one more time this week).

Maybe you are struggling to fit something into your own schedule?  Time with your kids, time with God, time for friends, time to rest.  If there's one thing we all have in common, it seems to be that there's just never enough time for any of us, right?

But, even at this ungodly hour, I'm feeling blessed to know that God already has provided all the time I need.  I'm still working out the kinks (and will continue to do so my whole life) on how exactly I prioritize and use that time wisely...but, He has made no mistake on limiting the structure of our days.

Twenty-four hours is all we've got before the next day arrives.  And today, God provided that 4am wake up call right when I needed it most.  [Take a deep breath with me here.]  Peace.  Quiet.  And a moment out of the normal routine to stop and recognize His provision.

Thank you, Lord.  (And thanks for coffee, too!)

Waiting

How many of you are waiting on something?

Maybe you are waiting on a job, like we are.  Maybe you are waiting on getting pregnant.  Waiting on an adoption to go through.  Waiting on a call from your doctor.  Waiting for your boyfriend to propose. Waiting to hear back from that school/program/organization you're hoping to get into.  Waiting on your order at Chipotle.  (Hey, it counts!)

Chances are, there are several out there who are waiting, waiting, waiting to hear from God about something that will epically change your life, for better or for worse.  My husband has been unemployed for over two months now, and this is not the first time God has made us wait and wonder as to what His plan may hold.  Still, patience continues to be a quality that I'm constantly in need of.

About five years ago, we were waiting for another reason.  We were trying to get pregnant.  We had been extraordinarily deliberate in our plan to have a baby, seeking the counsel of others personally and professionally to help us in the decision to jump into the murky and unknown waters of "trying".

Months went by, and I was still not pregnant.  There had never been any fertility issue on either side of our family, so when we first jumped into the ring we naively supposed we'd be making grand announcements within the first few months.  And, so, we began down an emotional roller coaster that kept us on our toes two-weeks-at-a-time.

In effort for my husband to truly grasp the emotional toll that this process was taking on me, I remember making an analogy for him.  Not getting pregnant, for me, is like unsuccessfully job hunting for a man. It's like, every time I see a pregnant woman out there, I think "Why HER?"  Clearly, I'm qualified for the position!  I'm perfect for it, I have all the experience and credentials I need.  And every time I'm not pregnant it's like someone rejecting you for a job you're overqualified for.

I can remember a conversation with a close confidant about 9 months into our journey.  I remember telling her how, when we'd first began to try to get pregnant, this would have been the month we had a baby.  It was weird.  I ached and longed to hold my own child, so it felt like there was no reason at all for God to have delayed the gratification.  I remember this person telling me "But, just think, when you finally do get pregnant, it will all make sense.  You'll look back and think 'Ah!  This is why God made us wait!'"

Now, I know that there are readers out there who are experiencing infertility, even waiting, who are currently in the midst of devastation.  I know that my story can seem like nothing compared to others who go through years and years of trials and hardships - so, I am in NO way trying to say that I know how that feels.  I don't.

But, when you are in the midst of it - when I was crying out to God on my bathroom floor after getting my period each month, when I was weeping and cursing and questioning "Why not me? Why not now?"...all there is is either "baby" or "no baby"...there's no timeframe or logic or end in sight.  So, all that to say, the year it took us to get pregnant felt like an eternity to me.

The year came to an end, and my first "fertility" appointment got changed to a "pre-natal" appointment. And even after I gave birth to a perfectly gorgeous baby 9 months later...I still had no idea why God made us wait.  I still wondered why in the world I couldn't have just surpassed all that pain and ended up with my gorgeous baby the year before?  What difference did it make, God, really?

Well...fast-forward to today, and here's one difference:  My husband has spent the last few months getting rejected by jobs he's overqualified for.  And I know just how he feels.

I can't tell you all the reasons God had for the way it all rolled out.  I can't tell you how many lives it altered or how much we really grew as humans or as spouses through that journey.  Some things are simply immeasurable.

But, I can tell you that now I know what it feels like to be married to someone who feels understood because of a time that God brought us through together.  I can tell you that there is a reason (probably many) for the waiting - and that it is not in vain.

Growth is rarely comfortable.  Change is almost never convenient.  But, dependance on God, no matter how long it takes, is always, always productive.  It's not that I have-to-believe-this-cause-I-have-no-other-choice.  My life is a testament to His follow-through!  He is faithful to answer and be with us no matter what the answer is.

You are not alone in your waiting, friends.  And your waiting is not wasted.

Wait on!

More

Since moving to Nashville just a couple months ago, our time of "settling in" hasn't been the easiest.  We knew it would come with challenges, but we could never have anticipated some of the craziness we've encountered.  While my husband's job search continues (prayers appreciated as always!) we have started to hit a stride of "normalcy" in settling into our new home.  It's a great feeling!

As I was laying in bed a few nights ago, I did what I usually do when I can't fall asleep:  I counted my blessings.  This has become an effective "default" for me to turn to in the wee hours of the morning, always helping me focus on the goodness and faithfulness of God instead of the worries that too often plague my thoughts at such a vulnerable hour.

Just as I was telling God how especially thankful I was for my daughters, that they are both healthy, and sound asleep in their beds, my heart began to swell with gratitude.  Indeed, we do have much.

Then, I began to pray for a job for Josh.  Again.  I mean, I can't tell you how many times I have to surrender this request to God throughout the day. 

 

Please, please, please Lord, please use his talents in work that would bring you honor and please let someone call him soon with an interview, and please let it be the perfect job for him!  Please!  

Right then, right in the middle of my appeal, a voice of doubt interrupted with, "Who are YOU, to be asking for MORE?  How can you list all that you've been given and then ask for MORE?"  

I paused for a moment.  

Then, in what I can only describe as a "Holy Ghost moment" a new thought, armed with the truth of Christ, refuted with authoritative clarity:  How? How can I ask for more?  Because I worship the GOD OF EVERYTHING.

Whoa.

I was stopped in my tracks right then and there.  Peace rushed over me as I continued my prayer to ask God for a job for Josh.  And then, I just laid in bed and pondered the truth that was spoken through me.  

I worship the God of everything.  He isn't just the God of things that go well.  He isn't just the God of healthy babies, sleeping husbands, and safe apartments.  He isn't just the God of my school work and good weather.  He isn't just the God of my gratitude.  HE is the God of MORE.

When you worship the God of everything - it's okay to never run out of requests.  It's not only okay - it's awesome!  He wants you to come to HIM for everything.  

My doubts and frustrations and worries can interrupt my focus so many times.  There's plenty to distract me from the truth that God is in control and hasn't forgotten about our needs.  But, the reminder that I worship the God of everything is, indeed, ALL I need.  It certainly helped me that night as I drifted off to sleep.  Turns out, the armor of God makes for pretty comfortable pajamas.

Ephesians 6:10-18New International Reader's Version (NIRV)God’s Armor10 Finally, let the Lord make you strong. Depend on his mighty power. 11 Put on all of God’s armor. Then you can stand firm against the devil’s evil plans. 12 Our fight is not against human beings. It is against the rulers, the authorities and the powers of this dark world. It is against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly world.
13 So put on all of God’s armor. Evil days will come. But you will be able to stand up to anything. And after you have done everything you can, you will still be standing.
14 So stand firm. Put the belt of truth around your waist. Put the armor of godliness on your chest. 15 Wear on your feet what will prepare you to tell the good news of peace. 16 Also, pick up the shield of faith. With it you can put out all of the flaming arrows of the evil one. 17 Put on the helmet of salvation. And take the sword of the Holy Spirit. The sword is God’s word.
18 At all times, pray by the power of the Spirit. Pray all kinds of prayers. Be watchful, so that you can pray. Always keep on praying for all of God’s people.

Bummer Day

Okay, so I'm sure you are all wondering how yesterday went?  How did the big job interview go???  Well, as you might gather from the title, it was not the winsome and celebratory day that we longed for.  As my three-year-old Matilda says, "It's a bummer day, huh mom?"  (Though I think she was referring to the fact that I wouldn't let her eat cookies for supper.)

Unfortunately, not long into the interview, they began asking my husband about his experience in graphic design - of which he has none of.  That is to say, the job is not the "perfect fit" we were led to believe it might be (no design qualifications were listed in the job description, nor are they on his resume).

Josh came home disappointed, frustrated, and confused.  I could feel the cloud of discouragement settling over our house, so I promptly scooped the girls out the door and headed out to run a couple errands and let my beloved ponder in private.  This was a good move for everyone, and many hugs and long sighs were had when I returned home.  Misery loves company - but, only after a good while of decompressing the day's events.

It's frustrating.  You do all you can that's seemingly within your control only to have all of the things that are out of your control spin out of place.  So, we pray.  We wait.  We try to occupy ourselves with pursuit of any other speck on the horizon that might soon come into view as the direction we're meant to head.  There are still many applications and resumes out there that are floating in and out of people's hands, and prayerfully making their way to the proper time and place and person.

I'm not embarrassed I blanketed the internet with prayer requests for my husband.  It's not like I'm rolling the dice here, hoping that one of those prayers hits the jack-pot.  On the contrary!  I'm so insanely thankful that I have the body of Christ to support us at this time!  Thank you, and keep em coming.

I'm reminded emphatically tonight of this verse below, and I hope it lifts your spirits as it does mine.  It is such a TREASURE to be fighting for what is good and righteous, and I'm impervious to defeat when I put my faith in God alone.  Hallelujah!

2 Corinthians 4: 8-9, 17-18
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...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.

Job Interview

Today, my husband Josh has a job interview!!!  I put this out there, anxiety-ridden-and-all, to humbly ask you to pray for him, for this opportunity, and for God's will in this situation.  He'll be interviewing at the Nashville Rescue Mission at 2:30pm Central Time.  The position is Creative Services Manager, and it seems like an awesome fit.  Not only does he fit the criteria, but it's something that he would really love to do.

Anyway - I know this is really bold to just lay out for you.  In fact, I'm red in the face as I'm typing this, feeling the pressure build up as questions like "Won't this post be embarrassing if he doesn't get the job?" float around in my head.  Sure.  Of course.  "Defeat" sucks and rejection never feels good...so, yeah, I'm running that risk.  But, who am I to be embarrassed for asking for prayers?  We need em, you got em, and sometimes it really IS that simple.

The thing is, when it comes to things I really want - the hardest thing about praying isn't asking for prayers - it's asking you to pray for God's will in every circumstance.  It's hard for ME to pray for God's  will in every circumstance.  Because, even as I tack on a "...according to Your will..." at the end of my prayers, God still knows that in my heart I'm shouting "THIS IS WHAT I WANT!" So sometimes it just seems silly.  But, it's not.

So, what does it even mean to pray "according to God's will".  This can be a deep and sticky subject if you really dive deep.  There are whole volumes of books out there that will try to knock-down-drag-out what the idiosyncrasies of what and how much God has defined in our lives already.  But, I'm not going there.  Not because it's not important, but because at the end of the day, if you are praying sincerely to a God who wants the best for all of us and believing that HE alone can make best of ANY situation, then I think you already have your priorities straight.

So, please and thank you, pray for God's will for Josh's interview today.  We want the job.  We hope for the job.  We pray for the job.  But, we won't be defeated if this is not the job.  We rest in the assurance that God's will is for what is BEST for us, and however we can bring Him the glory and be the greatest testament to His awesomeness, then THAT is what we strive for.

Thank you, all!  I have no idea how long it may be until we know something about this position...but, I will keep you all posted!  I can't tell you enough how much we appreciate your prayers and look forward to celebrating God's answer to this prayer.

Lifted

Last week, we had the extraordinary privilege of hosting one of our dearest friends for the week.  She flew out from California to visit us, to see our life here, and see Nashville for the first time.  


After a rough several weeks of "breaking in" our new home, it was refreshing to open up our doors to a familiar face who was genuinely there just to love on us.  Her presence offered a tangible reminder to me about the importance of friendship.


Friendships are an imperative gift in this life.  I use the word imperative on purpose; it's first definition being: "absolutely necessary or required; unavoidable" which I think friendship is all of.  I suppose one could try to avoid it, but we all need someone eventually, so the strangest of humans still end up befriending someone in this life.  

It is unavoidable, it is absolutely necessary, and a requirement for truly experiencing life.  Even Jesus (who, we can all argue didn't require anything from this world) had friendships.  And, while Jesus may not have "needed" friends, He used friendships to show us the utmost of applicable lessons:  how to BE a friend.


Here comes the bumper sticker:  Jesus is my BFF.  Right, well, something like that, sure.  I may say that tongue-in-cheek, but the reality of it is actually true if you can cut through all the cotton candy, I'm-only-here-to-sugar-coat-life-for-you, fluffiness that we've all-too-often whittled friendships down to these days.  




Let's break it down for a second.  I'm not talking about friendships that share half-broken heart necklaces, or friendships that just post a smiley face emoticon as a facebook comment, or friendships that re-tweet verses at you when they don't have the words.  Those are all fine - those are sometimes necessary too (hey - I'm the first gal that will hug you when I get a RT!) 
But, this past week I've experienced something far deeper than cotton candy friendship.  I've been loved on by some true Jesus-oozing-out-of-their-pores people who are just being honest and vulnerable and loving the only way they know how: as Jesus did.  
Because, sometimes you don't have the words to tell your discouraged friends, so you just say "I love you, I'm praying for you." Sometimes you can't find the right emoticon on your iPhone that says "Sorry life sucks for you, but God is bigger" and so instead you get honest and just let them know "You are not alone in this".  I know, because those are the hugs from near and far that I got this last week.



Friends, all of you, you matter to me.  Some of you have sat with me as I cried on your shoulders.  Some of you are reading my blog for the first time (Welcome! Grab a Kleenex and a latte!) Some of you emailed me your own prayer requests, and I want you to know that I LOVE THAT.  I will also let you know that I count it an incredible privilege to pray and speak to Jesus on your behalf.  Please, always know that I genuinely answer all emails and will lift up your burdens to God just as you may have done for me.  

We are not alone in this.  Neither are you.


This last week I got texts, cards, emails, and real-life hugs.  People sent me verses and words that JESUS spoke aloud, and I felt them in my heart as if it were Him speaking them right in front of me.  I received encouragement from far and wide, genuine reminders that the body of Christ is real and ACTIVE and that this battle of life this side of heaven is far more effective when we join together.  


I'm reaching out to you.  I'm writing to you.  I'm SO GRATEFUL for you.  


You matter.