B-A-N-A-N-A-S

Parenthood is bananas.  B-A-N-A-N-A-S.

You start off with a little, tiny, innocent, sweet baby who depends on you for every little need who, within a blink of an eye, turns into an egocentric, chattering, maniac who demands your attention incessantly.  Don't get me wrong, I chose and choose this lifestyle every second of every day...but, it's not without its chaos (and inevitable anxiety).

I like bananas.  I mean, they're fine.  They don't make me gag, and they don't make me swoon. Bananas aren't my favorite fruit and I'd prefer them sidling my ice cream rather than topping my cereal, but that's just me.  But, my window for eating a banana is very ripe-specific.  I utterly despise green bananas, and anything bruised or brownish is just gross.  But, a perfectly timed banana that peels seamlessly and has that subtle, soft-but-firm ripeness about it is exactly right.

I know, I know, not even monkeys talk about bananas this much.  But, stay with me.  Parenthood is bananas.

Parenthood is full of perfectly ripened moments.  Times when your child hugs you for no reason.  Moments when you catch your little ones making each other giggle.  Occasions when you catch your breath at the thought of them being your own flesh and blood, and your heart aches with love for them so bad that you nearly miss them even when they are in your arms.

But, then there are the bruises.  The smooshy, yucky times that feel rotten and leave you with guilt and anger.  There are green times when you feel so new at this whole game you wonder how anyone has ever survived it before you.  These are the ends of the parenthood spectrum no one prepared you for, and you just can't imagine how you ever signed up for such a battle.

But, the reality is, I can't just take the perfect moments of parenthood without the yucky ones.  I don't get to hand-select the hugs without having to put up with the tantrums.  As a parent, there are days when I'm in constant battle with myself debating whether I truly think the blessings outweigh the frustrations, and I'm numbed by the debilitating, question no parent ever wants to admit they're thinking: Is it worth it?  

Guys, parenthood can be SO HARD, right?  Like, filled with frustrations so paralyzing that you just want to drop everything and take a time machine back to the good-ole-days when you could sleep in until noon and watch TV in peace.  And, in that fantastical moment of daydreaming life-before-children, I'm reminded how different I've become through the few years I've lived in this process we call parenthood.  And I'm the better for it.  Period.

To ask whether parenthood is worth it or not is literally asking whether life is worth living.  You don't get to "create your own adventure" like we may have imagined in childhood.  You don't get to only experience happiness, prosperity, and peace.  That's not promised in this life, and it's not attainable, nor should it be pursued.  Ideals in life can help motivate us, sure; but they can be dangerous plumb lines for gauging expectations.  It's the whole of life that truly makes each moment beautiful.

The crushing minutes of my day are the ones that mold me the most.  How I deal with the craziness, how I allow myself to be shaped by the opportunity to love well and forgive and be patient...these are the times I am growing the most into who I am meant to be in the next moment.  Parenthood is made up of a million moments of failure, followed by glimpses of the grace of Jesus, and rewarded by fleeting moments of utter joy.  The rest is all growing pains.  Ripening.  Progress.

Don't wait for the perfect moment to embrace the whole of parenthood.  You never know when the messiest of times might end up being the sweetest.

Red Flags

Dear Self,

Watch out for red flags in life.  Sure, there are the regular dangers - obvious temptations that most are
 normally guarded against.  Things like lust, gluttony, hatred...those things are commonly repulsive and there's often support to build up the moral courage to avoid them.

But, lately, there've been other red flags.  Flags I'm not so sure you're aware of and I want to hit you over the head before you become completely blind to them.  These are the red flags of distraction.

Your iPhone has a giant red flag, your computer, your stack of homework in the corner over there.  Your bills, your blog, your Facebook, your calendar, your Instagram, even your devotional that you don't read every day (might I take this opportunity to remind you to not forget about that one entirely).  These things are not good or bad.  They just are...and they are enormous filler-uppers of your time that you never intended to distract you so completely.

You need to pray about this.  You need to hand over some of the control that you are disillusioned into thinking you have.  You need to lay down these "priorities" and stop considering these options as if they are obligations.  They are not.  Not when you have reality flashing before your face at lightning speed, and you are losing sight of the fact that the present is turning into the past faster than you can type about it.

Turn the tv off.  Put the iPhone down.  Let the blog go for one more day.  Email that person when you actually have time...they'll wait, I promise.  These red flags are stealing more than just moments from your day - they are warning you against true destruction, losing yourself into these objects instead of into purpose.

You can't say no every time to every body; but, you can say yes to the things that matter most, most of the time.  These red flags around you are distracting you from being able to see the joy that surrounds you.  They steal your peace and obstruct your vision for what you want your life and time and energy to be spent on.

Self...take a deep breath.  You are not going to get this right the first time.  Ask God for extra grace as you take little steps in practicing new patterns, praying your way into a routine that seeks calm and reveres quiet.  These distractions don't have to be put to death, you can still write, still read, still peruse the status updates and photos of your friends...but, all in due time.  Embrace the freedom to take part in it all, and allow yourself the pleasure of being able to do so, instead of feeling burdened by thinking you are "so needed" and allowing your thoughts to be pulled in chaotic directions.

Be thankful for the red flags.  These distractions are warning signs, flashy and justified and sometimes intended for the good of others - but, they are toxic when overused, misused, abused, or dominating time that is meant for your calling.  Time better spent in the present.  Energy better used in being vulnerable.  Life better lived for His glory.

Pluck the red flags out, replace them with white ones, and surrender your burdens to the One who will never fail you when it comes to time management.  Yes, Jesus even cares about the loudest of moments, the craziest and most chaotic of schedules, and He's here to help you sort through the rubble and see a clearer picture of how this all fits together.  Let Him take His time with you.  He's never late.

One more deep breath.

Emily

Boiling Point

Did you know if you place a wooden spoon over a boiling pot, it won't boil over?

I recently had my eyes opened to this simple fact and it has been a game-changer in my kitchen.  I made hardboiled eggs the other day, and sure enough, the bubbles spurted and blurted and I watched as the steam rolled off the top of the pot while the water stayed confined to doing its job:  cooking the eggs.

I don't know how long I have been boiling water all wrong!  Needless to say, a long time.  There have been countless, unnecessary messes all over my stove simply because I didn't take advantage of the resources that were right in front of me the whole time.  Who knew?

Even little helpers need help

As I watched the water boil, I thought how often I allow my own frustrations to surface, spill, and pour out all over into a giant mess when I try to live life unassisted.  I drive myself CRAZY with expectations, obligations, and unpredictable changes that I feel helpless to control.  Then, a friend calls and offers to watch my girls, my husband hugs me and prays for me, or someone just emails me an encouraging note.  And, I'm helped.

And the tensions ease.  My soul returns to calm, my blood pressure drops to normal, and my peace is restored by the touch of an outside helper.  I'm surrounded by wooden spoons, if only I allow them to help.  I have wooden spoons at my arms-length, if only I'm humbled enough to reach out and ask.

Who is your wooden spoon?

It's vital for me to have people in my life that I can call on for the tiniest and largest of reasons.  I mentally seclude myself and the pressure rises, but when I speak openly and ask for help, I'm almost always genuinely refreshed at the willingness and generosity of others to show up in my time of need.

Asking for help also models humility to my children.  I must keep this in mind!  We all need each other.    I hear so many mom-friends offering help to others in various ways, extending themselves beyond reason and spreading themselves thinner than tissue paper.  (I am one of these!)  But, let's remember that we are in a super-amazing time of life that can work as a  beautiful exchange program - helping and asking for help - both of which our children need to be taught.

As life gets crazier (because, who are we kidding? This ship is never slowing down) let's keep reminding each other that we're not in it alone.  No one has it "all together".  None of us are actually pulling this whole parenting thing off without a hitch.  It's difficult and the world doesn't slow down around us when we just want to sit on the couch and fold laundry during nap time.

Today, take a moment to ask for help for something.  Take a moment to offer help to someone.  If nothing else, we are breeding opportunities for gratitude.  That alone, is worth a moment to thank a wooden spoon in your life.

Don't wait until you've reached your boiling point.

Tell Me About It

Soooo, this is new...

See My Full Profile

In January I begin my Practicum/Internship as part of my Masters program in Marriage & Family Therapy.  This is crazy news for me, because essentially it means I will begin to take on clients as my own.  Yes - I'll be doing therapy with real live people in a real, actual office.

Different students take a different approach to their internships, and I've opted to go the route of private practice.  I'm reaching out, building my own client base, and that means asking you to refer me if the opportunity presents itself.  So, you'll notice a new link on the PARDYMAMA site that directs you to my info if you want to lend my contact info to someone you know, or let your church or work know that they can get counseling at a very affordable price.

As an Intern, I won't make a cent for the next 20 months.  So, my "fee" is insanely low since it just covers the cost for my Supervisors to allow me to practice at their location.  (We're talking like $20 - $45 on average for a session.)

I know what you're thinking "Umm, are you READY for this?  Are you even qualified?"  And I assure you that no one considers these inquiries more than yours truly.  In fact, several friends and family have already raised their eyebrows, given me the stink-eye, and awkwardly asked the very same questions.  And, I don't blame them.

Here's the deal:  Yes, I'm eager and ready and have been trained to handle certain circumstances and know where to turn when I don't.  Yes, I am also anxious about the initial people and issues and problems that I might encounter where it will be uncomfortable or beyond my scope of readiness.  No, I'm not doling out advice to people about what "I think" they should do with their lives.  No, I'm not here to change people or heal them or enforce my belief system on them.  That's NOT what therapy is.  And, for more info on why I've decided to become a therapist and what therapy actually is, please read my posts here and here about it.

I'm here to listen.  I'm here to engage.  I'm here to help.  I'm here to use the gifts like empathy, understanding, and compassion that Jesus models for us.  I'm here to team up with my clients and help them tap into resources they already have access too and motivate them in their own desires for change and healing.  This is a team effort, with an incredibly intricate support system in place to help guide me and my clients along the way.  And that I am STOKED for.

Please pray for me and my future clients as I take this brave step into a new chapter in the year ahead.  I appreciate your support more than you know, and I'm grateful for any friends, family, and strangers you refer to me.

Let the adventure begin!

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.

TBT: 50 Shades of Marriage

Now that the movie for "Fifty Shades of Grey" is all abuzz, I'm re-posting this blog for ThrowBack Thursday.  I'll admit I was rather hot-headed about the issue when I originally wrote this post about 18 months ago - but, I stand by my every word below.  I don't really care whether you read the book or see the movie - I care about your thought-life, your marriage, and your focus on what nurtures your life and your marriage.  We have far better things to focus on within our REALITY than anything fantasy could ever offer.  

Original post:

Chances are good that by now you have heard about the book "50 Shades of Grey" - either on a talk show or on Facebook or even from a friend or neighbor.  I heard about it on the Today Show, and was pretty appalled to hear that this new, sleazy series has swept the globe with such popularity.  They are calling it "mommy porn"...erotica that women evidently don't have to be ashamed to keep on their nightstand for the world to see.

Well, here at pardymama, I try to walk the line of airing my opinion whilst remaining compassionate in judgment.  I'm not here to say "don't do this or that" - I'm far from being your Holy Spirit.  But, it is my blog and frankly, I get to write what I want about whatever I want, so here we go...  Personally, I will not be reading "50 Shades of Grey".  Not only does it kinda gross me out at the thought of putting descriptive words about S&M in my head, but I have no desire to seek out sexual escape that reaches beyond my marriage.  That being said, feel free to judge me about making a judgment about something I haven't and won't take part in.  Fair enough.

So, why am I even writing this post?  

Because, I'm seeing crap about this stupid book everywhere.  And, what I find most troubling is the sense I get that so many women are desperate for an outlet beyond the boundaries of their bedroom, their marriage, and their every day life.  We're not talking about your usual mental escape either...this is not to say that every form of entertainment is worthless or without merit.  I enjoy a good story, a great movie, an uplifting read just like the rest of us.  But, certainly you can see the difference between watching Dumb and Dumber on a Saturday afternoon with your husband (albeit, no merit for the intellect) and losing yourself in some pornographic trilogy about a sadist millionaire.

This is what I'm saying:  as Christians, as wives, as mothers...red flags should be popping up on our radar when so many women are seeking fantasy.  This is dangerous stuff, wildfire even.  It's not that "50 Shades of Grey" is the problem...it's what it represents.  The popularity of such material just showcases the fact that "maybe something better exists out there" - a tease at our fantasy world, an escape from our life of burp rags and dish gloves, an outlet away from our husband who forgot to pick up the gallon of milk.

Fantasy for women is very emotional, and leaves us heartsick at the notion that either we aren't good enough to be worthy of a better life, or resentful at the fact that we deserve more.

Entertaining thoughts of a better life than the one God has given us stirs in our souls a belief that is nothing more than a downright lie:  "I'm missing out".  If you don't believe me, just ask Eve...you can start at Genesis 1:1 and go from there and give me a call when you get to the good part.

So, I'm here to say, guard your heart.  This isn't about sex.  This isn't about a pop-culture-phenomenon-book they are talking about on Entertainment Tonight.  This isn't about "but, Emily, you don't understand...my husband is so blah blah blah".  I understand there are hurting marriages out there, and there is actual, tangible help available for you to heal and find God's BEST for you.  But, to the majority of us - be wise and aware to the warning and quick to question whatever "fantasy" that you might partake and what it may actually be rustling up in you.

Maybe, it's not so much that you need a new partner as it is you need a new perspective.  

Remember when you first started dating your husband and you just felt like he was your entire world?  As your marriage grows and your love deepens and your kids start eating into your time together, it is amazing how roles in relationships change.  Sure, there is the mundane - the fact that my spouse is the handyman and the trash man and the tech geek and even the kitty litter changer.  But, he is so much more than that.

The next time you are tempted to wish for a new life or a different spouse, I want you to remember that God has given you a man who is a perfect fit to fulfill all the roles you need him for in your life together as a married couple.  In other words, it's what I like to call:

50 Shades of Marriage

1. Helper
2. Partner
3. Teammate
4. Lover
5. Comrade
6. Companion
7. Sweetheart
8. Co-conspirator
9. Accessory
10. Collaborator
11. Paramour
12. Flame
13. Darling
14. Dear
15. Beloved
16. Admirer
17. Treasure
18. Heartthrob
19. [the] One
20. Biggest Fan
21. Encourager
22. Defender
23. Follower
24. Champion
25. Cheerleader
26. Ally
27. Spouse
28. Compadre
29. Kin
30. Associate
31. Counselor
32. Better Half
33. Ball and/or Chain
34. Helpmate
35. Peer
36. Friend
37. Playmate
38. Bedmate
39. Sidekick
40. Accomplice
41. Complement
42. Date
43. Crony
44. Chum
45. Buddy
46. Rib
47. Steady
48. Aide
49. Supporter
50. Soulmate

What more could you possibly want?

Class

Well, enough of you kind folks have inquired as to how my class went on last Friday, I've decided to indulge you.  ;)

As part of my grad school curriculum, I was given the opportunity to teach an undergrad Marriage & Family Therapy class for one day.  My topic was "Ethical Dilemmas" and to be honest, only a few weeks ago I probably knew as much about the topic as any of you (or possibly, much, much less).  So, I did what any good American would do, and began with googling "what is ethics" and went from there!

Certainly, I was able to read ahead in my studies (since, ironically, we have yet to cover this subject in my own grad classes - yikes!) and track down some literature that helped me learn more about the subject and led me to do what every good teacher ends up doing when preparing for a class:  scavenging YouTube clips of relevant material.

The class I taught was about 20 students, mostly upperclassman, and the majority were female.  The professor met me at the beginning of class and was incredibly encouraging as I set up my prezi ("prezi" is the new hipster method of PowerPoint as I've recently come to find out) and looked out upon my minions...er, I mean students.

I figured I probably looked a million years old to them and while I may have smiled back with a trying-to-hard-to-get-them-to-like-me smile, I knew they expected me to know what I was talking about when I opened my mouth, and that was an exhilarating and daunting feeling.  Lucky for me, I was armed with a bag of KitKats and fake-it-till-you-make-it confidence that none of them seemed the wiser to.

I introduced them to ethics, what it was, what makes up an ethical dilemma, and we began watching a variety of clips I pulled to demonstrate the breadth of how and where and why ethical dilemmas present themselves among the most mundane to the most dramatic of circumstances.  Hunger Games, Breaking Bad, Grey's Anatomy, and an old smoking ad that showed a medical doctor endorsing Camel Lights helped spur our conversation about recognizing the ethics in a variety of situations.

Finally, I showed them the "ethical dilemma of all ethical dilemmas" and played the clip of Sophie's Choice that I'm sure left them all scarred for life.  To my surprise, one student actually knew the name of the film and the cinephile in me was proud that apparently someone is still teaching these kids pop culture influences within cinematic history.

After this, I broke them into groups where they came up with their own ethical dilemmas and had to distinguish the two sides (at least) to the situation and give pros and cons (or, cons and cons) for each side.  This played out well (the KitKats didn't hurt) and they seemed genuinely engaged as they shared their dramatic scenarios which ranged from heart transplant narratives to euthanizing a family pet.

With each story, I then (here's where my extemporaneous speech background comes in handy!) "upped the ante" on the spot and made the choices even harder.  For example, one group suggested the ethical dilemma of choosing between giving a heart transplant to a mother or a doctor...and after we discussed that, I said "what if it was an elderly nobel prize winner and a twenty-year-old criminal?"  It was nice to see the wheels turning in their heads.

I wrapped up the class with some talk about the Code of Ethics that therapists abide by, what that means and how we use it and/or struggle with it.  And, I gave them the basic outlines for assessing situations within therapy that might present ethical dilemmas and how those are approached in professional practice.

Overall, it was awesome.  It was refreshing to be in front of a group of students who were respectful and engaged.  I don't think I'll be applying for any teaching positions any time soon, but I'm grateful for the experience and humbled that my colleagues entrusted me with the responsibility of it.  It also makes me really, truly grateful for my college professors (past and present) and the unseen amounts of time and energy that they surely pour into their work day in and day out.  Wow.

Professor Pardy, signing off.

Smarty Pants

So, today I am stepping way out of my element.  I'm teaching an undergrad Psychology class about Ethical Dilemmas this afternoon.  Whhhaaaa?!

Yeah, I wouldn't have put this on my bucket list, but now that I'm doing it (even if it is just a one-time thing) I feel like I should place "Teach a college class" on the list just so I can cross it off!

I have never taught a class.  I think the closest I've come is helping out in a youth group or speaking to college girls as an RA (back in the day!)  But, today, I'm walking into a classroom full of students who will look at me with apathy in their eyes and think "I hope this old lady shows some YouTube clips and talks fast."

Well, hope-of-our-future, you are in luck - I will be showing many YouTube clips and I do speak rather quickly.  I'm not going to change any lives today (I mean, that's not in my powerpoint anyway) but, today's experience will change my life.

These students have no idea that this is a big moment for me, that it is adding a new feat to my resume, stepping out of my comfort zone to talk about a topic I really have barely scratched the surface on myself, and putting on my smarty pants to act like I'm the most knowledgeable person in the room.  (Ha!)

Being back in school has catapulted my desire for learning.  Turns out, I'm a major geek when it comes to topics I really enjoy learning about.  WHO KNEW!?  And, I have a new motivation for making sure I present intelligence as a foremost strength for my daughters to witness and want to imitate.

Why is it so hard for women to own their intelligence?  It can feel so daunting and uncomfortable to say things like "Mommy loves to learn! Mommy is smart!"

Like, am I setting the bar too high for them?  What if I'm really not that smart?  What if they have a hard time learning?

Worries are normal, especially when it comes to raising kids!  But, when I really start to think through those doubts, I quickly realize how insecure I can sound.  Maybe all those things have a grain of truth to them, the expectations and hopes that I have might be very ideal.  But, the alternative is not an option.

Not only do I want my girls to see me being a strong, confident, smart woman...but I want them to see that I'm challenging myself, overcoming doubts and taking risks.  I want them to see that it's a struggle, that I have worries, that I pray through so so so many of my weaknesses and therefore become stronger because of them.

Maybe this is the only class I'll ever teach.  Maybe I'll totally blow it and lecture the entire time with food in my teeth.  Maybe I'll be amazing and inspire another girl to become a therapist (hey, I can dream big!)  But, it's true what they say about the "teacher learning the most in the room"; and, today, I've learned what it means to make sure my girls know they have a smart mother.  

Smart women encourage others to be smart.  Own it!  Live it!  And, let's raise daughters who grow up to teach their daughters that learning never ends.

Mall Rat

Happy Holidays!  Wait - already????

Yes, apparently so.  The mall is already decked out from top to bottom in tinsel and garlands.  The Christmas tree is up and there are creepy reindeer and little elves on every corner staring down at the shoppers as they pass from store to store.  And...I would know this because the mall is my new home away from my home away from home.  Yep, I've added yet another obligation to my already cringe-worthy schedule:  seasonal help at the mall!

I've accepted a part-time position at Pottery Barn Kids at a nearby mall.  It's a beautiful setting chock full of ridiculously expensive items that I'm sure I'll be tempted to splurge on (but, alas, cannot afford) in every nook and cranny.

Am I a glutton for punishment?  Am I trying to be the first overachiever at overachieving?  These are excellent questions, and ones I've considered myself!

As a wife, a mother of two, a freelance writer, and a full-time grad student, I often feel like I already have about a dozen jobs to juggle.  The simple truth, however, is that I'm spending a WHOLE bunch of time to a whole lot of work that doesn't really pay anything.

And, well, if you've ever been a kid on Christmas morning you realize how disappointing it would be if you opened your stocking to discover a note that says "Your mom wrote you a blog for Christmas!  Love, Santa"  Hmmm, yeah, that doesn't fly with a 4-year-old and 2-year-old.  Haha!  So...mommy's picked up a little seasonal job to help Santa's Christmas budget along.  :)

I'm excited about it, actually!  As much as the reality is that I'm working for the money, I'm excited to embrace a new opportunity to meet people, be around lovely holiday decor, and somehow let my gifts be used in a new setting.  I'm able to work evenings and weekends, so I'm thankful to have a willing husband who is getting some quality time with our girls when I'm away.  This is a TEAM Pardy effort, no doubt - just like parenting and school and work are.

Certainly, I'm convinced more caffeine than actual blood is running through my veins these days.  Don't get me wrong - I've pretty much abandoned the idea that "balance" exists, and I'm fully depending on the grace of God to get me through the days ahead.  But, as I bring you in on this new chaotic step in my life, I hope that it will encourage you to just love what you are doing wherever you are, and to look for the ways in which God can use you no matter what.

So - be kind to those crazy checker-outers at the mall as you shop this holiday season!  It's gonna be nuts out there, with shoppers and sales seeming more intense than ever before.  Keep your cool and smile as you shop - you never know when you might be smiling at an insane, wife/mother/writer/student who is doing her best to keep it all together.

God is good.  And the season for smiles is just getting started...

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.

Blemish

The other day, I was going about my usual routine of getting ready to go out.  For me (a total make-up fiend) this usually involves a quick moment to "put my face on" and face the public as if I'm well rested and give a care.  I gazed into the mirror, dabbing on moisturizer and smearing foundation, covering up the flaws and accentuating the positive so to speak.

Then, I noticed something on my forehead, a small blemish that I hadn't been aware of.  Yuck, what's that?  Ugh, breaking out again?  I rubbed my forehead, trying to figure out the best way to conceal the flaw, but nothing covered it up.  I looked closer, frustrated and confused as to why it didn't disappear under make-up.

Then, in that split-second, I realized that I didn't have a blemish on me at all - it was a speck of make-up on the mirror that had given the illusion something was on my face.  Relieved, I wiped the mirror and went on with my routine.

In that ridiculous moment, I thought how foolish I was to instantly assume something was wrong with me.  I don't have the best skin in the world, and so I immediately jumped to the conclusion that it was my face that was blemished, and I left no room for argument.  Then, my perspective changed.  And when I saw the blemish for what it really was, my perspective of myself changed too.

We can be so quick to find the flaws in ourselves.

If you're like me, I can be quick to be critical of myself.  Not just body image or skin quality - but, how I mother my children, how I love my husband, how I treat others, and how I manage my time.  I can quickly point out the flaws and things I'd like to change - that's the easy part!  But, am I seeing everything from the right perspective?  Am I able to step back and spot the blemishes that aren't really blemishes at all?

None of us see ourselves as others see us - and, chances are good that people think we look a lot better than we think we do.  I'm all for self-improvement - don't get me wrong - but, in  a world that constantly tries to tell us (especially as women and mothers) that we're not good enough, smart enough, pretty enough, etc..... (the list is long, as you know!) sometimes it's okay to clean the filthy mirror and see who we really are:  beautiful daughters of the King, working hard, loving well, and striving to make a difference (even if that difference for the day means not burning the frozen waffles in the toaster that morning - hey, that counts!)

Go take a look at your gorgeous self - flaws and all - and please, do yourself a favor and clean that mirror!  You might just smile at what you see. (I hope you do!)

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.]

Be My Guest

Ever consider writing or starting up your own blog but feel like you just aren't quite ready to take the plunge?  Ever think of a really great topic and wish someone would ask you to tell them what you think about it?  Ever want to take a stab at exposing your world for all to see and read about?  Here's your chance!

Guest blog for PARDYMAMA!

In the midst of midterms and the mayhem of motherhood, I'm calling on YOU to think about writing a guest blog for me.  This could be a real win/win for us, folks.  I'm thrilled to collaborate and support talent that I think reflects honesty and the truth of God, and it helps me keep my priorities in check by giving my family and school work the attention it requires while being able to keep this blog afloat.

Also, it would be a privilege to connect with other writers, parents, and creative people who want to utilize this blog to help get the word out and encourage others.  It also helps me keep quality content up here in between the times that I really need a break from reading and writing for a day (seriously, my eyes might be permanently bloodshot after this week!)

Submit your ideas, topics, or full blog posts to EMILY@PARDYMAMA.COM 

It might take me some time to get back to you, but I promise I will read each one!

As you know, PARDYMAMA loves to specifically speak to moms and dads who are struggling honestly with the everyday strife and blessings that marriage, parenthood, and other realities can bring into life.  I'm looking for honesty here - so, whether you are funny, dramatic, or just want to share a lesson that you've learned lately - bring it on!

I look forward to hearing from you!

TBT: Toddlers Are Like College Students

It's Throwback Thursday on the blog!  While I'm in the midst of midterm mayhem in grad school, I look back on this blog with even deeper understanding (and need for it's humor) than I did when I wrote it a little over a year ago... Enjoy!

With all the "Back to School" commercials I see on TV these days, it makes me all jittery and nervous with that excitement and nostalgia flooding my mind as I think back to my own school days.  It's been a long time since I've been in school and my own kids have a few years to go (thank goodness!) but, it still makes me tense when I see all those ads for pencils and notebooks and new Reebok Hightops with the velcro (okay, maybe there aren't commercials for those anymore, but ever since that style has had a resurgence in fashion, it makes me miss my grade school days!)

I started having flash backs of my school days through the years:  the boisterous elementary years, the awkward and torturous junior high days, the long and full-of-attitude-and-angst (thanks 90s music) hours of high school that seemed to tick by ever-so-slowly, followed by the happy-go-lucky days of college...footloose and fancy free, indeed.

Even though you know that those times were filled with impossible drama and heightened emotions, as a grown up now days, you can't help but look back with a bit of wonder and joy at your own naiveté.  "Oh, it's funny how I thought I had actual problems back then!"   We always associate these things with adolescence...this sense of our "small planet" being all there is that just escalates and grows until we finally burst into the "real world" and have to get a job or have a baby or say vows to someone we would die for.

But, I don't think it starts in adolescence...I think it starts right after we are born!  And, the more I thought about this, the more I realized more and more how similar my two-year-old, Matilda, is to being just like those ripe-minded twenty-somethings daring to take on the world one foolish/brave notion at a time!  (Don't get me wrong, I love a dreamer - I grasp and grasp to hang on to my ideals with all I can!)  So, here, I've concluded a list for you to chuckle over; a "back to school" analogy for parenthood...

Why Toddlers Are Like College Students

1. They think they know everything.
2. They are sure you think you know everything, but are also very confident that you actually don't.
3. They expect you to feed them whenever they are hungry.
4. They have no money.
5. They want to wear pajamas all day.
6. It's perfectly acceptable for them to wear pajamas all day.
7. They believe toast is a meal.
8. They never make their bed.
9. They expect you to do their laundry for them. 
10. They like all cereal, but somehow it always ends up on the carpet. 
11. They can relate to every television show they watch.
12. No matter what you say to them, they probably disagree with you.
13. They aren't afraid to tell you how they really feel.
14. Their music is loud and annoying, but too catchy to ignore.
15. You wish you could get away with wearing the shoes they wear cause they're just so cute.
16. A backpack is a perfect accessory for any outfit.
17. They hate reading but they hate lectures even more.
18. They would stay up and play till the wee hours of the morning if they could.
19. They can never get enough Disneyland.
20. They are always overtired, but never want to go to bed.
21. They can talk for hours and you still might not understand what they're trying to tell you.
22. They think the world's biggest problem has something to do with bad guys that look like Ja'far.
23. They expect and want you to tell them what to do when they really need you.
24. They really need you when the toy they want costs more than your rent.
25. They make headbands look cool.
26. They believe a couch is just as good as a bed.
27. They are only as nice as their last nap was. 
28. A road trip always sounds fun to them until they are trapped in the car.
29. They cry when things don't go their way.
30. They cry when things totally go their way.
31. It's really hard to sit through church without playing on the iPhone.
32. They think milk goes great with every meal.
33. They love to experiment with new hairstyles.
34. Just because they wore the same outfit yesterday is no reason to change clothes.
35. They remember every inappropriate thing you say. 
36. They laugh at their own jokes, even if you don't.
37. Friendship means you share dress-up clothes.
38. They think libraries are basically only for social get-togethers. 
39. They believe adventure and new discovery could take place anywhere, anytime.
40. They expect to see every place on the planet that they want to see.
41. Someone smiling at them can truly change their day.
42. They want to play house but not commit to anything just yet.
43. They want to make friends with everybody.
44. They want to be the loudest person in the room.
45. They can see right through people who don't believe in them.
46. They always want a snack, even if they just had one.
47. The floor surrounding their toilet is always disgustingly filthy.
48. Their room can never be dark enough.
49. They feel loved when we buy them stuff, even little stuff.
50. When they pray, they talk to Jesus like He is sitting right in front of them. 

Kids.

You gotta love em.  

Happy new school year, everybody!

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!

Nash-Fall

The weather in Nashville has been extraordinary lately.  A cool breeze in the air and the crunch of leaves under my feet is enough to make this Californian happy to be here (that's saying a lot coming from the land of weather-perfection).

With my birthday passed, school in full swing, and pumpkin-products-galore taking over the shelves everywhere I look, there is no question:  FALL is here!

Fall is my favorite.  You'll probably hear me say this at least a dozen times in the next few weeks as this short-lived window of transitional-weather-bliss continues.  I'm so happy to be here in the midst of seasons...something that California offered only to a very limited degree.  I can't wait until the leaves start changing color and I get to very-unscientifically explain to my toddlers the difference between summer (swimsuits and popsicles!) and fall (sweaters and pumpkin scones!)

This is such a unique season of our lives too - in the middle of our own transition, getting into the routine of my being a full-time grad student, starting back into Bible Study and MOPS and making new friends left and right.  Fall always has this nostalgic, in-between quality about it that feels like it is offering up a fresh start, though late in the year, right before the holidays hustle in with its stress and expectations.

What season of change are you in right now?  


Fall always reminds me of the changes and lessons that God has been teaching me all year long (life-long, for that matter) as well.  As I witness the color of His creation turning from green to brown to deep oranges and yellows, I recognize that my insides often feel the same.  I have new growth in my faith, new doubts and questions, and new understandings that enrich my life - I die a little more to myself, only to bring about a greater beauty that reflects His presence in my life.

I hope my life can be like one of those dead leaves, falling from the tree of myself, taking on a new look and a new purpose...nurturing the soil in a way that only I can be used, to present new growth for God's glory.  Nature is showing us all the time various ways to reflect the presence of Christ in our lives.  There are limitless ways God uses His creation to show us new aspects of who He is, and new ways to allow Him into deeper parts of our lives.

How is God using this season to reveal Himself to you?

I love Fall (I warned you I would say this a lot!) But, not just for the pumpkin spice lattes and scent of cloves that fill my home.  I love it because it's the most contemplative of seasons to me, the cool nights that are just right to clear my head and make me nostalgic, and eager with anticipation for the coming busy months ahead until the year's end.

Lord, help me brown, help me orange, help me yellow, and let people see the changes only YOU can bring in my life.  These are natural, beautiful changes that only God can cause.  Such a great reminder that I'm His changing creation as well, just like those falling leaves outside.

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.

Jesus Year

Welp, TODAY is my birthday!  Yup.  The big 3-3.

As most years, I didn't wake up feeling any older or wiser (when does that start to kick in?)  But, this is year is going to be BUSY, I have no doubt.

I also have no idea what is really in store.  With a new city, new home, new school, new routine, new church, new friends, and new adventures ahead, the bulk of what is to come seems more unknown than ever before.

Turning thirty-three has been coined by many as "the Jesus year" referring to the final, epic year of Jesus' ministry leading up to his crucifixion, when He died at age 33 (resurrected 3 days later, of course).

If you only thought this concept was a Christian thing, you'd be wrong - apparently this is kinda a "known thing" and if you don't believe me, just google it or even check out what urban dictionary says (yeah, you know something is for real if its on there, right?  Haha).

So, evidently this is my Jesus year.  No pressure, right?

I used to think that 33 was old.  You know, like when you're sitting in Sunday school as a child and hearing the Easter story for the zillionth time and somehow it registers in your head that Jesus was about your parents age when he died on the cross.  Older guy.  Wise.  Had life figured out.  Did miracles and saved souls.  Got it.  I will definitely have my life figured out by 33 just like Jesus did.

Right.

And suddenly, a few blinks later, and turns out thirty-three is NOT old!  Why didn't anyone ever tell me this?

I don't know why Jesus didn't stay on earth longer than He did.  Why He couldn't have stuck around to be 83 or 103 or 133 is beyond me?  But, to think of Jesus being MY age is a whole new thought.  For the first time ever, the ministering Jesus of the Bible really IS my homeboy...my peer...my comrade.  I can look myself in the mirror without excuse.  No more waiting around thinking "yeah, but Jesus blah blah blah and someday I'll get there too".

Well, I'm not ever going to "get there" on my own, but I'm here right now.  I'm here.  I'm 33.  I'm not any more brilliant or brave than I was yesterday, but I'm wholeheartedly devoted to allowing this real, peer-Jesus to take over my life and utilize it for epic ministry for the remainder of my days.

I'm not just 33 today...I'm 33 forever.  Life as epic ministry, let's do this, Jesus.