Know Your Anger

"Injustice, brokenness, and cruelty abound in our fractured world – to the point where it is easy to see how anger can become a lifestyle, outrage a default reaction. But this is where our anger putrefies and begins to poison us. When anger is tightly grasped and infected with a sense of righteousness, it turns into a monster. Once we feel justified in our anger and vengefulness, we coddle it and lovingly nurture it to maturity and beyond, at which point it's grown into the kind of monstrosity capable of unthinkable things. 

… Anger can be holy and anger is human. It's a facet of our experience, our emotional make-up, that can't be denied or domesticated to make it more palatable. When we grasp it, feed it, exalt it and praise its excessive demonstration in our leaders, we disfigure ourselves and pave the way to atrocity. But if we can know our anger and honestly express it, we can be supernaturally infused with hope that reconciliation is possible and things will, in time, be right" (Making Peace With Anger, Ashley Lande).

Things will never "be right" in this life, and I know so little of the true suffering of many. But rather than simply adding to the discord of voices, today I am praying that we can begin to break the vicious cycle of anger, distrust, violence, and outright murder. That we can acknowledge the hurt, the anger, the "injustice, brokenness, and cruelty", and pave the way to honest dialogue and reconciliation, deciding not to join in the tide of so many who choose to ride the newest wave of racism and fearful blame-shifting. There is no "cure" for hatred and fearmongering; however, there is always hope.

Hope in Jesus Christ and the knowledge that He will, one day, make all things new. 

Hope that forgiveness is possible even in the most devastatingly cruel situations.

Hope that we don't have to repeat the mistakes of those who have gone before us.

Hope that God is indeed greater than the deep depravity of our hearts.

Hope that love wins and will surely cover a multitude of sins.

I am nowhere close to having all of the answers. Sometimes, I read the news articles, and I just weep over all of the senseless pain and heartache. But I have a mighty God who is the Light in the darkness and who daily commends me to not grow weary of doing good. So, even in these times, I choose joy and hope. Because it's easy to hope when life runs smoothly. It's easy to hope when we have those we love around us, rather than buried in a grave. It's easy to hope when we can quickly find an answer. But when life is hard and pain runs deep – when we cannot even find words to express our sorrow and outrage over the treatment of precious souls – we realize that true hope cannot be manufactured inside our broken selves.

"I pray that God, the source of hope, will fill you completely with joy and peace because you trust in him. Then you will overflow with confident hope through the power of the Holy Spirit" (Romans 15:13, NLT).

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When Waiting is Hard

Maybe you're waiting to hear on a job you were hoping to land. Or a call from that realtor about the house that seems like it's just the right fit.

Or a diagnosis.

Perhaps you are waiting for life in general to get better … or just hoping it won't get worse.

As for me, I found myself waiting for another child. Different desires would overtake me at different times. One moment, I would be sitting on the floor completely content to be reading a book to my two lovely boys; later, I would be vacuuming and realize I just spent the last 20 minutes thinking, "If we were to get pregnant this month, this is when our baby would be born," and daydreaming about what it would be like.

Logically, I knew that it didn't matter when or even if we had another child. Not only could I be content with what I had been given, I could learn to be content with His timing, too. But in my heart, I had ideas and plans – I had my own timing. And it seemed like no one really cared about any of it. It is a difficult thing when husband and wife are not on the same page. … And not because of arguing or strife, but simply because one can feel passionately about something while the other does not share the same conviction.

Finally, while going through a study on James, I realized that this had become an idol in my life. The problem wasn't really that I wanted to have a baby (sooner rather than later). The problem was that I wanted life to go my way. That I wasn't satisfied in waiting on God. When the realization poured over me that this was something I thought about every single day, I knew it was time to do more than just lightly bring up the topic with my husband. So I wrote to him – like I always do when something really heavy is weighing me down.

I have started praying that God would show me why I can't stop thinking about someone who, in all reality, may not ever exist. I love you so much, and Kieran and Elias, too. And I feel pretty strongly that if God were to never give us another child, I could be okay with that. But I never do well with the in-betweens. After we miscarried Asher and before I discovered that we were pregnant with Kieran, I struggled with all the "what ifs" and the "whens." I guess, in some things, I like to have a general idea of what's going to happen.

I was so nervous to approach Jordan with this. I mean, I would never want to be that wife who pressures her husband into a decision that he still needs time to make. But I also would hate for something like this to build up into hurt and discord in our marriage.

… If this makes you feel bad, I'm sorry. But maybe you can understand that as intense as that feeling can sometimes be, I obviously don't feel like that all day, everyday. I am so thankful for you and our boys and the station in life I have so graciously been given. So please have patience with me, try to understand my heart, and ask God to help us stay unified ….

It can be difficult to walk around with a heart that is filled with the chaos of being divided. Once I had shared my heart with my husband and laid it all out before the Lord, I was able to find rest. I was able to understand that, while my husband was okay with "now," he wasn't in a hurry, either. My desires didn't change, but my perspective did. And the best part of all this was that as I was giving my idol over to Him, He was the only one who knew that I was already carrying the newest member of our family. He simply loves me that much that He wanted to draw me closer to Him first.

This verse is actually about Abraham, but I love that I can also take hold of God's promises. :)
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Gravity

It can be so hard to be the one who consistently strives to help your children be aware of their sin and to help them understand the root of why we grieve over it and its effects – especially when we know we still have so much we ourselves need to bring before God. 

"Let there be tears for what you have done. Let there be sorrow and deep grief. Let there be sadness instead of laughter, and gloom instead of joy. Humble yourselves before the Lord, and he will lift you up in honor" (James 4:9-10, NLT).

How do we help our children go through a process we ourselves daily fail at? God wants me to see the gravity of my own sin and to be humbled by the grace I need for the responsibility I have to help my children realize their sin and sorrow appropriately. I myself often sit on the fence and flirt with the world while I say I belong to God. 

But then I read this:

Do you think the Scriptures have no meaning? They say that God is passionate that the Spirit he has placed within us should be faithful to him. And he gives grace generously. As the Scriptures say, “God opposes the proud but gives grace to the humble.”

I am not in this alone. I have the Spirit inside me who desires to passionately battle with me as I face each and every trial and temptation – big or small. And I have grace. Generous grace. Every time I acknowledge my own sin and weaknesses, I have clear access to a wellspring of grace that pools into the dark and empty places within me. I have eyes that can better see God's wisdom as I seek to lead precious souls to see the importance of this daily process we go through as we fight the good fight within our home. And I have peace that while I may only see the difficulty of the here and now, God sees the glorious result of small moments of faithfulness building upon each other until we reach eternity. 

Hallelujah. He giveth more grace.

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Even When My Eyes Can't See

Hope.

Brokenness. 

Have you ever faced a mountain so big that you cannot see over or around it? Has it seemed so permanent that you start to believe it will always, always be there and, rather than continually bringing it before God, you start to believe (though you may never say it aloud) that He doesn't care about that particular mountain?

Sometimes the world steals our hope and pride or fear steal our ability to be broken before God, and we simply give up. We find it easier to stop thinking about the insurmountable and focus on what we can do and what we can change. We pour our hearts into another project, another soul, all the while knowing that God is waiting, waiting for us to resume the trek He has set before us. "Let me climb that hill!" we cry out desperately. "These people need my attention!" we mutter in self-justification. We can't understand why God would have us take up the climb one more time, when we have no surety that we will ever reach the top.

This weekend, I had the opportunity to visit my grandma's church, down south.

The pastor talked about John 13, when Jesus washes the feet of His disciples – nothing I hadn't heard before. But as my heart was being crushed by this mountain, I was so ready for His Word to speak life to me. Jesus was doing something that confounded everyone. He took on the mantle of a servant and willingly did one of the dirtiest and lowliest jobs: washing the dirt and grime of traveling on dusty roads and through animal droppings off of the crusty feet of these working-class men (no male pedicures, here). And Peter – our beloved Peter with whom we can all identify – just could not comprehend why Jesus would do this, nor how he could allow his revered teacher to see and touch and smell the filth collected on his feet. And when Jesus explained that if he didn't allow Him to wash his feet, then he could have no part in Him, Peter cried, "Lord, not my feet only but also my hands and my head!"

As we sat in a chilly, air-conditioned room on a hot and muggy Sunday morning, we were reminded that Jesus was able to see past the sin of those closest to them to serve them physically and minister to their souls. That morning, what Jesus said to Peter struck me in a way it never had before:

"What I am doing you do not understand now, but afterward you will understand."

Sometimes, we just cannot understand why God seems to be so slow to answer. So we stop asking. We cannot understand how things will ever improve when they just seem to be getting worse. So we stop hoping. We begin to forget that, in all things, God is for us. So we stop running to God, asking Him to break our hearts once more.

For me, this mountain is the family I grew up in. And while I would never share all the details, it is enough to know that there are many broken and strained relationships and many, many hurts that happened even before I was born that are still bearing fruit today. While we spent several days away from home and with different family members, I came face-to-face with some of those and felt the weight of a broken, mostly unbelieving family press down on me again.

But one glorious event shone through, like suddenly stumbling upon a mountain pass.

I got to meet my little brother.

A brother I hadn't seen since he was six months old and I was five.

And I never, ever thought this would happen. At some point, it just seemed like too much time had passed for reconciliation to occur. And while everything was not perfect or golden, nor would I expect it to be, I saw God answering my prayers and the petitions of others. He gave me an overwhelming sense of peace and a deep-seated knowledge that He is still there, working in the midst of what so often seems like an impossible situation. And though I may not understand now, someday I will stand with Him on the brink of eternity, He will show me what He was doing, and I will understand.

Far be it from me to not believe

Even when my eyes can't see

And this mountain that's in front of me

Will be thrown into the midst of the sea

Through it all, through it all

My eyes are on You

It is well

Through it all, through it all

Our Three-Day Potty Training Experience

WE DID IT!!!

This kid is potty trained! :) I put all these shenanigans off time and time again until, finally, we just picked a weekend on the calendar and decided that unless an emergency came up it was time.

I had read the 3 Day Potty Training e-book awhile ago, so I went back and reviewed it. While the whole idea of getting it over and done with seemed very appealing, I was also super intimidated by how intense it sounded. You become your child's shadow and are responsible for running them to the bathroom anytime they are about to have an accident. You remind them a million times to, "Tell Mommy or Daddy if you feel like you have to go potty." But do you know what? It was great!

The first day is just weird for a potty-training novice. Neither you or your child know what is going on. We started out the morning last Saturday in his very last diaper from the evening before and waited until after breakfast to change him. First, we made a very big deal about Kieran giving all of his diapers to his little brother (who goes up a size in diapers at bedtime). We had him throw away the one he was wearing, and put on his own underwear. … He was pretty hesitant at first, "No! I don't want underwear!" Even though he was excited about it the night before, there was still some uncertainty. 

And then, we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Since he had already gone in his morning diaper, he didn't have to go to the bathroom again for another two or three hours – even with all of the fluids we were pumping into him. When he did finally have to go, we kind of failed at the whole point of the three-day method and didn't get him to the bathroom in time to finish over the toilet. In fact, the first two or three times we didn't get him there fast enough because he would make a little whimpering noise, and by the time we got there, he was done. We just told him it was "yucky" and reminded him to tell us as soon as he felt like he had to go potty because we wanted to keep our underwear, "dry!"

The first day felt pretty unproductive, but we were so proud of him when he woke up with dry underwear! By the end of the first day and into the second day, he was able to get to the potty and finish in it but not keep his underwear dry. And by sometime the third day, he was able tell us he needed to go and keep his underwear dry!! I'll tell ya, folks, it feels good to cross this bridge and say, "Goodbye," to four diapers a day.

Now, of course, there are still some things we need to work on. In the week that has passed since we started potty training, he has only ever gone in our bathroom. The one time he needed to go when we were out of the house, he had an accident because he was scared to use their bathroom. He has also never gone for anyone but Mom or Dad, so it may be interesting the first time he has to go at church or if someone else is watching him. Then, of course, there is the dreaded "number two." The first time was an emotional disaster that didn't get anywhere close to the bathroom, while the second time was extremely successful – in the potty from start to finish. And McDonald's ice cream cones for everyone! But one success does not guarantee the next.

Needless to say, I am pretty proud of my boy. It's scenes like this, though, that keep us humble.

Soul Cravings

Working out is hard. Working out consistently is even harder. Eating a well-balanced diet is hard. And being thoughtful and consistent about it is even harder. 

A couple of weeks ago, I had the opportunity to join Farrell's; since it was something I have always been interested in, I jumped at it even though I have never taken a class at a gym and (let's be honest) rarely ever visited a gym even when I had complimentary memberships. But this post isn't really about working out or eating well. I have gone through this whole "get back on the horse" thing before and blogged about it, too. The one thing I consistently find whenever I try to adopt a healthier lifestyle is that our bodies are connected to our souls. For some reason, God designed us so that the needs of our outer person directly correlate to the needs of the very core of us (and I'm not talking about your abs).

As a part of this 10-week class I am taking, I had the chance to visit a local grocery store and attend a guided tour with a certified dietician. It was pretty straightforward, and I felt like I was hearing facts I already knew about or that were pretty intuitive. One question that really struck me, however, was, "Why do we so often reach for sugary or fatty foods?" One person replied that those foods are generally easy; another chuckled that they taste good. I couldn't help but blurt out:

"Because we teach our bodies what to crave."

I may choose crackers over carrot sticks or mashed potatoes over salad, but is it because I don't like raw carrots or I'm not head-over-heels about salad? Or is it simply because I gravitate towards foods that satisfy my immediate cravings for salt or sugar without thinking about what will really satisfy me and keep me full? Do I consider what will make me happy next week or only in this very moment? As I reintroduce healthy eating habits into my life, I am reminding my body that, as Sesame Street so aptly put, "We need vegetables always, but cookies are for sometimes." I am training my mind to enjoy the natural sweetness and savoriness of the foods around me, while still enjoying the occasional splurge here and there.

And so, just as we feed our bodies, we are daily feeding our souls. Many of us have days, weeks, or even years where we are couch-potato Christians, aimlessly munching on spiritual tidbits here and there mixed in with unhealthy doses of over-processed information from the world streaming into our senses. Instead of actively taking responsibility for our growth, we limp along thinking we're doing alright. What we don't realize is that our souls are starving. We are living in a fast-food, grab-and-go society, where we have taught our minds to crave information in short, colorful bursts.

I waited patiently for the Lord; he inclined to me and heard my cry. He drew me up from the pit of destruction, out of the miry bog, and set my feet upon a rock, making my steps secure. He put a new song in my mouth, a song of praise to our God. Many will see and fear, and put their trust in the Lord. … Then I said, “Behold, I have come; in the scroll of the book it is written of me:  I delight to do your will, O my God; your law is within my heart.”

I love this Psalm of David. He had so many people pressed around him pressuring him to make decisions in the midst of very present danger, but he knew that whatever plans the Lord had for him were far better than his own. And he was content to wait for God's answers in God's time. He was able to wait patiently because he regularly came to God, learned His Word, and sought His will. Just as I sometimes need to examine my life and establish better patterns of eating and exercise, I need to regularly examine my heart to see what patterns God wants me to put on … and what patterns He wants me to "put off." Matthew 15 puts it this way:

And he called the people to him and said to them, “Hear and understand:  it is not what goes into the mouth that defiles a person, but what comes out of the mouth; this defiles a person.” … And he said, “Are you also still without understanding? Do you not see that whatever goes into the mouth passes into the stomach and is expelled? But what comes out of the mouth proceeds from the heart, and this defiles a person. For out of the heart come evil thoughts, murder, adultery, sexual immorality, theft, false witness, slander. These are what defile a person.

It is so, so important for us to take care of the earthly bodies that God has given us. But how we handle our hearts will have an effect on eternity. "Guard your heart above all else, for it determines the course of your life" (Proverbs 4:23, NLT). My soul will crave what I teach it to crave. Sometimes that will be facebook or Netflix or a fiction book. By God's grace I can identify the unhealthy "soul junk food" in my life and be reminded to feast on the Bread and drink of the Living Water. I can run to God like a weary animal runs to a stream and find my true heart's longing there.

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Rising From the Ashes to the Stars

In the shadows

In the sorrows

In the desert

When the pain hits

You are constant

Ever-present

You're the song of my heart

Happy third birthday to our sweet angel baby.

I Know Who You Are

Sometimes life just doesn't make any sense.

We struggle to wrap our minds around pain and loss and suffering that seems too intense to bear. And while there are a myriad of ways we wade through sorrow and tragedy, today is the day we set aside to specifically remember the smallest members of our families who hold such an expansive place in our hearts.

We can list all of the statistics, but the truth is that statistics cannot take us to that moment when tears spill over as that sweet mama or dear papa realizes that their child–a unique and beautiful blend of two people–will never say his first words or take her first step. As parents, they will never see them walk into their first day of kindergarten, hear about their first crush, watch them walk across the stage at graduation, or see them give their heart to another.

But it's not just a dream that dies. It's not like losing a job or house. It's more like losing a finger or a thumb … or an arm or a leg. A part of you has ceased to exist. You heal. You learn to cope. And, over time, there are moments and perhaps even a whole day or days where you don't really take the time to reflect on the kind of life you have adapted to. But no matter what you do or others do for you, what was lost cannot be returned to us.

When I got to see our sweet baby, Asher, he was only seven weeks and three days old. One week later, my body no longer carried our first child. But I oh-so distinctly remember the awe and wonder of hearing his heart beating from inside of me. My first glimpse of Kieran was at nine weeks; at 12 weeks and three days, my eyes soaked in this sight of Elias.

This photo absolutely amazes me.

I had no idea that I would be able to see that much detail when I wasn't even visibly pregnant yet. At a time when so many dismiss this fragile, yet intricate body as a vague, formless group of cells, my Elias--who has brought so much joy to our lives--had his tiny thumb to his lips. My mama's heart cannot look at this picture of him without feeling the strongest urge to protect him. To whisper to him even then that he is loved and wanted and cherished and known. That there has never been nor will there ever be anyone like him. That no matter what we decide in or out of courtrooms, had this been the only time I had ever seen him, he would still be my child. That love isn't defined by days or weeks or months but by the simple truth that I am and forever will be his mother.

Another blogger puts it this way:

It was six months after my son was born that the reality of abortion became more than a vague concept in a world that didn’t directly affect me. It became an undeniable and unavoidable truth that invaded my heart. I was driving down our simple suburban street, and I looked up in the rearview mirror at the reflection of my infant in his car seat. He was sucking on his pacifier and watching brightly colored animals dance from the bar above him.

Overwhelming grief came over me. The thought of precious babies just like my own who laugh with tiny tummy songs and smile with toothless grins not tucked safely in car seats, but in trash cans and zip lock bags and coolers at the hands of their own mothers was more than I could bear. Abortion is real, and while I drove the speed limit with my baby buckled carefully into his car seat, children like mine were dying.

As we recognize all of those struggling with infant and pregnancy loss and infertility, there is a raging inferno of emotions on either side of an issue that has produced so much hate and violence that it seems we who claim to be on the side of precious life have chosen to not only decry the act but the women who enact it.

Abortion is murder, and the women who choose it shed innocent blood. Surely there is no greater sin.

How could we not–especially we who have so deeply grieved our own losses or the losses of those dear to us? And, yet, a loss is a loss. I cannot speak for the women out there who have chosen to, been pressured to, or coerced into ending the lives of their babies. But when something that was once full is emptied and something–someone–that was once whole is broken, how can that not leave a void? And how many women who have chosen abortion grieve in secret on a day like today?

… I am sorry. I am so sorry for shame that you have had to carry alone. I am sorry that I… that the Church… has not done a better job of pursuing you in your pain. That we have shunned and rejected and thought of the babies and not the women – you. Because the truth is… 

God loves you. He isn’t mad at you. There isn’t anything you could ever do that would cause Him to stop loving you, because there wasn’t anything that you could do to earn His love. It is free. It is the scandal of a God full of grace that pursues a sinner with nothing to gain for Himself but a relationship with them – you – me. He wants to heal the places of shame that creep up in your heart. He wants you to come to Him and find peace and restoration and forgiveness. 

He wants to set you free from years of secrets, from hidden burdens, and from crippling shame that says you will never be able to walk in the forgiveness that is available to you. The greatest lie of the enemy of our souls is that God doesn’t love us. It is a lie as old as time itself, and it is nothing more than that – a lie.

If you ask me, I will say that I choose life. I choose the life of my children, always. And I would choose the life of every other child, too, if I could. But I also will say that I choose to love the lives of those who did not make the choice I would have made.

I hope that one day most people can look at that 12-week photo of my now almost one-year-old baby and see his value. One day, I will show my boys these pictures and teach them about just how precious life is. And I hope I can truly show them the value of life by loving the brokenhearted–just like God does.

"Can a woman forget her nursing child, that she should have no compassion on the son of her womb? Even these may forget, yet I will not forget you. Behold, I have engraved you on the palms of my hands …  (Isaiah 49:15-16).

You Don't Have to Go Fast … You Just Have to Go

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I DID IT!!!

I am now a Couch-to-5K graduate!

Couch-to-5K Plan

Getting back in shape after baby number two has proven a lot more difficult for me. … Perhaps it has something to do with spending the greater part of three years being pregnant. Still, I seemed to bounce back last time with quick results once I started working out, so I have been somewhat disappointed. At the beginning of June, I decided to start running, even though I haven't run consistently since before I got pregnant with Kieran. And (let's be honest here) the longest I have ever stuck to a consistent running schedule is a couple of months. Oh, and did I mention that I had never run more than a mile and I detested the very thought of that?

I started with one-mile runs; my goal was to work on decreasing my mile times. My first run was June 6th, and a couple of days later, I posted this on facebook:

The other night, I ran for probably the first time in thee years (I've exercised, just no running). My time to run just one mile was awful. Tonight, I ran for the second time, and my mile decreased by 45 seconds. ...Maybe there's hope for me yet. 

My first mile was an impressive 12 minutes, people! At one point, I think I got down to 10:30, but a few weeks in a friend told me about the Couch-to-5K (C25K) plan; I looked into it and jumped in at week four. I was kind of glad I got to skip all of the really boring-looking intervals. Since I don't have a smartphone, I had to map out my runs ahead of time and keep track of my intervals myself. And since I am incredibly, incredibly slow (shout out to all my friends who have never reached five feet), I decided to train based on distance, rather than time.

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Some runs have been wonderful, but many have been hard. I am super stubborn, so that works in my favor, but I want to be so much faster than I actually am. And the more I run, the better I feel in some aspects, but old injuries and aches and pains seem to enjoy paying me a not-so-friendly visit. However, I do love the challenge and the feeling I get when I meet one of my goals.

Never in my life have I ran two miles. I did it for the first time today and was hoping I would come in at or under 20 minutes. I finished in 25:08--but by that time, I was just glad I finished at all!

And, of course, the final goal:

COUCH-TO-5K COMPLETE!!! Three miles in 36:22. #C25K #fitforlife #insertinspirationalfitnessmantrahere

I'm so glad I started this journey and proved to myself that I could do something I never thought I could or would do. I am not sure that I will ever classify myself as a runner (I know, I know, "You run. You're a runner."), and while I have lofty ideas of someday doing a 5K to 10K training, I am not sure my poor joints are built for long distances. Whatever challenge I take on next, I know that when I get discouraged I can look back on this one and say, "Remember what you did there?"

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Somewhere in the Middle

Last week, I had one day where I pretty much fell apart.

Even when I was struggling with a newborn and a young toddler, I never felt like I had a day like this. I was dealing with one really grumpy baby (Honestly, I can't even remember the reason anymore--teething, maybe?), one increasingly grumpy toddler who wanted more attention than what the baby was taking away from him, and no afternoon naps.

When my husband came home, he was frustrated with me about some miscommunication that we had had, and, for some reason, that was the last straw for this overwrought mama. I felt like an all-out failure, but at the same time, I was offended that this should all seem like my fault. I just couldn't let things go, and after a couple of hours my frustration and anger went from simmering to boiling over. And I--a woman who usually thinks of herself as easy-going and laid-back--yelled at my family.

Oh, it kills me just to put that in writing.

I really felt like I needed to get out of the house, but when my husband (bless his soul) suggested that I stay and talk it out, I burst out with something to the effect of, "Why?!" Then, pointing to each family member in turn, I exclaimed, "You don't like me! You don't like me!! And you don't like me!!!" Believe me, I regretted it as soon as my little rant was over. I eventually apologized to the people I love most in the world and was able to put it aside for awhile, but at the end of the evening, I was just racked with guilt.

"I hate myself," I told my husband. We talked about how the day went. We talked about how, in the span of a few short hours, I felt like I had become the parent that I never wanted to be. But it wasn't until I opened up my Bible that I really understood why I could not let this go. I knew I needed to read Psalm 51, so that's where I and all of my emotional turbulence turned.

For I know my transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against You, You only, have I sinned and done what is evil in Your sight....

The reason I couldn't get past what had happened was not because I had become "that mom."

It was because I had become God.

In that moment, I had decided that what I wanted and felt I needed were more important than anything or anyone else. I chose not to live out Galatians 5:22-23, "But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness,self-control; against such things there is no law." 

Instead of choosing love of my family, I chose love of myself.

Instead of choosing joy in my circumstances, I chose despair.

Instead of choosing peace, I chose strife.

Instead of choosing patience, I chose short-temperedness.

Instead of choosing kindness and goodness, I chose anger.

Instead of choosing gentleness, I chose harsh words.

Instead of choosing faithfulness and self-control, I chose to give into my desires.

There I laid, on my bed, condemned as a wife and a mother--a failure as a child of God. But God reminded me--and reminds me still--that I am, in fact, not condemned but forgiven and loved. I am not--you are not--a lost cause. "The sacrifices of God are a broken spirit; a broken and contrite heart, O God, you will not despise."

A friend recently shared an article that really helped me to put all of my thoughts into words:

The next time you’re tempted to say “I hate myself” because of the lingering sin in your life, take a deep breath, regroup, read Psalm 139, and get back in the game. “The righteous falls seven times and rises again, but the wicked stumble in times of calamity” (Proverbs 24:16). The righteous fall. Falling is not the defining issue. The wicked listen to the accuser (Revelation 12:10) and don’t get back up. The righteous get back up.

Oftentimes, it's how we deal with our failures and shortcomings that defines us. It is just heart-wrenching to know that what you have said and done cannot be unsaid or undone. And I, for one, can begin to hate myself as I see myself branded by one moment in time. As Paul so eloquently said, "I don’t really understand myself, for I want to do what is right, but I don’t do it. Instead, I do what I hate" (Romans 7:15).

Somewhere between the wrong and the right
Somewhere between the darkness and the light
Somewhere between who I was and who You're making me
Somewhere in the middle, You'll find me

Through it all, the amazing truth is that God's love never fails and never gives up on us. Rather than being branded by our ugliest moments, we are branded as God's own. Instead of finding ourselves weighed down by our failures, we find grace springing up from an unending Source. We find that His mercies are indeed new every morning.

Okay, so I am very loosely tying in this photograph with the idea of "grace springing up." ;)

Not Quite Picture Perfect

Sometimes all you want is for a day to go how you had planned it. This picture is from Easter, when we were trying to get one good family photo. As you can see, Kieran is always so hyped up after church.

We actually had a really good Easter. Mother's Day, however, did not go how I had planned. Saturday, I started letting Elias cry it out at nap times and when he wakes in the middle of the night (he had a really bad cold for awhile, so he had gotten used to being held or rocked to sleep). So, I've been a little tired and stressed. Sunday morning found me getting myself and two kids ready for church after we had all "slept in" because we were out late the night before and, you know, the whole crying-it-out thing--all this by myself because Jordan was sick. At family dinner, I dropped Kieran's whole plate of food onto the carpet and he decided that he wasn't hungry and wouldn't eat lunch.

Let's just say that the day went downhill from there.

Now, I'm not saying that the entire day was a bust because there were definitely some good moments. But it just wasn't the day I was hoping for. ...And what I am realizing is that picture perfect days are few and far between. 

And I need to let go of them.

Life never goes as planned, and that's the beauty of it, I think--to relax and let go and be in the moment instead of planning the moment. To accept that husbands will get sick, messes will be made, children will cry, and patience will be tested. But to know that, at the end of the day, when the beds in your home are full of the people you hold most dear, your heart will be overflowing with love for them and with gratitude for the grace and mercy God gives for each new day. So, you will pick up the toys and books and pray for your children. You will scrub the pots and pans and pray for your husband. You will remember that God has made you for this mess and for them and for all of these moments. 

Because that's what they are:  moments. In the blink of an eye, we will be planning graduations and weddings and the baby showers of our grandchildren. And so we should soak in every minute.

There will be moments of pure sweetness.

And there will be moments of not-so-sweetness.

There will be moments of silliness...

Kieran wearing a Bumbo on his head

...and moments of undeniable cuteness.

Eventually, we were able to get a decent photo of our family. It wasn't perfect. There weren't four smiling faces looking into the camera. No one is going to ask to put our family picture into their magazine. But it is our family. And we are living those days out moment by moment, learning to love and to make the most of the not-so-picture-perfect life we have.

A Tale of Two Kingdoms

I feel as though I have been going through a bit of a rough patch lately, and I have really been learning a lot about myself . A few weeks ago, this little cutie started teething and rolling over, so we have been relearning naps without being swaddled and chewing on everything in sight!

I have to admit that my patience has been tried. I don't really mind tending a fussy baby--it makes getting things done difficult, but it's not like he's fussy all the time. But when the little one gets more attention than usual, then the big one starts getting whiny and acting out for attention (again, not all the time...I don't want to paint that picture). And, so, I've learned something about myself.

My allowance for whining is really low.

I could write a whole blog post on that, but I'll  move on. I consider myself to be a pretty laid-back person and one who is not easily angered. But after one long weekend of always having one grumpy kiddo on my hands, I found that each day I was more quick to snap. 

For our Bible study, we are going through a series on marriage, and the speaker was talking about our desires. He said that conflicts arise because of the desires that battle within our hearts; we get angry because others get in the way of our desires. It is rare that someone is brought to the point of righteous anger because they are offended that another person has sinned against God. Usually, I am "offended" that someone else thwarted my plan to get this done, or to keep this clean, or to drink my coffee...or to sleep.

We are torn between desires for God's kingdom and our own kingdom.

The easiest thing I could do as a new-to-the-scene stay-at-home mom is to set up my own little kingdom in my household. This is how I do it. This is how I want you to act. This is how I expect the day to go. Instead, I have the humbling responsibility of being an ambassador to my children. "So we are Christ’s ambassadors; God is making his appeal through us. We speak for Christ when we plead, 'Come back to God!'" My job--weather at home or out in the world--is to represent Christ to those around me. The difference is that when I am at home, these little people that I spend so much of my time with will have their view of God largely shaped by me. 

I don't want these precious souls to think of their Heavenly Father as harsh or unforgiving. I don't want them to feel like He is unconcerned with the details of their lives or that they are unimportant to Him. I want them to see His love shine through me. I want His grace to flow through me. When I discipline them, I want there to be that pleading entreaty of, "Come back to God!", humbly and gently leading them back to the right path. 

So much of disciplining my child's heart leads to disciplining mine.

What a journey I have embarked on. I feel like a foal walking on spindly, wobbly legs. There will be stumbles and falls to be sure, and I envision rough terrain before me. But I am so thankful that I have a Guidebook and the ultimate Father to direct me and give me the strength to do hard things.

Expectations

Everyday I expect certain things to happen. When I wake up and push the handle on my faucet, I expect water to come out. When I put my key in the ignition and turn it, I expect my car to start. I also have expectations of the people around me (like expecting my husband to take out the trash--wink, wink).

The danger, however, is when I start demanding what was expected of those in my life. Or when I expect things to go wrong, and waste my time worrying about them.

We spent several days this month with my dad's family in Florida, who we really only get to see once a year. Growing up, I always set high expectations on our time together, since we didn't get to see each other everyday. I would try to be on my best behavior, and I set out to never make any waves. I wanted things to be peaceful and to make everyone happy. Fast forward to my adult life and the fact that I now have a family of my own, and things haven't completely changed. Only, this time I am praying that we can handle our two boys flying on our laps when we have to get up before the crack of dawn to leave, and, oh, please, please let them sleep while we are there, and I sure hope nothing too valuable gets broken in a house that has not been toddler-proofed.

And there was my first mistake--I kept slipping into worry and anxiety.

I've always loved this quote from Anne of Green Gables. It ties right in with Matthew 6:34, "So don’t worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will bring its own worries. Today’s trouble is enough for today." I would say that I'm pretty optimistic, but sometimes I'm afraid to assume something will go well, so, in trying to be realistic, I swing the opposite way and set my expectations low. What a waste of my time and energy! How much more enjoyable my time would be if I remember to look forward to the good things ahead and expect the best of things. And how detrimental the sin of worry is to my silly heart.

My second mistake was getting so caught up in the less important details of schedules and in all of the "what ifs" that I forgot to focus on the relationships. What I should have been doing was preparing my heart for our visit and asking God to help me to be a blessing to my family. Sometimes I struggle with how much my family and I are not involved in each other's lives. Oftentimes, I have expectations I set up for them that are not met, and my emotions come crashing down when they are not met. And now that my family members are grandparents and aunts and uncles, I feel similarly (if not more strongly) on my children's behalf.

How unfair I am.

How many times do I fail to meet up to others' ideals for me and am shown grace over and over again? How many times have I hoped or wanted or demanded someone to say or do certain things but never actually communicated these expectations to them? How many times have I held someone up to a standard that I myself am not meeting?

Once again, I am reminded that I need to adopt the mantra of "an attitude of gratitude". I am so thankful for the family I have been placed in and how they love me and my little family. I am so thankful for all I have learned through all the ways we function and dysfunction. And I am grateful that I have a Heavenly Father and brothers and sisters in Christ in the amazing family of God. We cannot expect our relationships to fill what is lacking in our lives--only Jesus can do that.

So appreciate what you have. And if you're struggling, give it over to the One who "is able to do exceedingly abundantly above all that we ask or think" (Ephesians 3:20).

One Word

I feel as though I am on the cusp of many changes in my life. There is, of course, the ringing in of the new year. And in this new year, we are settling into being a family of four. With the addition of another little one to our household, we have made the decision for Mom (that's me!) to stay at home; that alone is a huge life change for both Jordan and I. And as I enter into the last week of my twenties--that's right, the big three-oh is waiting for me on Friday--I find myself in a reflective mood.

A few days ago, I saw an author discussing his book, One Word That Will Change Your Life. I have never read the book and probably never will, but I did like what he had to say. They were discussing resolutions, and he explained his philosophy: "One Word explains how to simplify your life and business by focusing on just ONE WORD for the entire year. The simplicity of choosing one word makes it a catalyst for life-change. Clutter and complexity lead to procrastination and paralysis, while simplicity and focus lead to success and clarity." His three main points were to "look in, look up, and look out." The idea is that each year you pick a new word that you want to define your year and be your focus for change, like compassion or gratefulness.

I really did not give it too much thought again until this morning. I was overwhelmed this morning during communion by what God has given me and what He sacrificed for me to have it. And as I was reflecting on what I have in Christ and how my heart needs to change, my word slammed into my heart and mind.

Servanthood.

There are so many things that I want to work on as I enter a new year, a new decade, and a new phase of my life. There are so many areas where I feel like I fail or cannot even find the motivation to start trying because it just seems too hard or like a setup for failure. There are so many lessons that I know I still need to learn.

But if I could focus on just one thing for now, it would be servanthood. I desire to have a servant's heart. To do things for others--not just out of mere obligation or duty, but because I delight in it. There is a story that John Piper tells of how he can best follow God's command to love his wife. He could, of course (and this is all paraphrased), show up to their door with a dozen roses. And when she answers the door, he could hand them to her and say, "These are for you...because that is what a good husband is supposed to do." Or, he could show up with those same dozen roses and say, "I wanted to give these to you so much, just to see your face lighting up like it is now. You are my delight." That is why his mantra is, "God is most glorified in us, when we are most satisfied in Him."

I want to delight in laying down my life for my husband.

He deserves someone who places his needs before her own. I want to strive to not only do the things we have come to expect from each other but to look for ways to live out love to him by serving him. I want to be the kind of partner who helps to carry his burdens, instead of adding to them. I want to take joy in bringing him joy and creating a joyful home for him to return to everyday. And I want to be the kind of wife that he can place his trust in because I am a good steward of all of the things we have worked so hard for and, like the Proverbs 31 woman, I make good use of the things we have so graciously been given.

I want to delight in laying down my life for my sons.

There is still so much I have to learn:  about being a parent, about babies who become boys who become men, about representing Christ to my children by the way that I live--so that they might be drawn to Him by what they see in me--and about living a lifestyle of grace where love of others overpowers love of self. I want to teach my boys that hard work is not only demanded of us, but it pays off in the end and it builds you into the kind of person others can depend on. I want to demonstrate to them that, in a family, you always come last, and when you focus on the needs of others, the dying to self comes easier everyday. I want to pour myself out each day (oh, how I want this but my heart is so disinclined toward it!) as a wife and a mother, so at the end of the day, I have absolutely nothing left, and I have to run to God and be filled by His strength and His heart because this just cannot come from me.

I want to delight in laying down my life for my friends.

One of the more difficult things I have found about starting a family is the challenge of allowing friendships to evolve to make room for the new people in your life without letting those friendships fall by the wayside. Some of my dearest friends I hardly ever get to see because our schedules are just so hard to work out. And some of the best days of my life were in college when my friends were also my roommates. I loved the movie nights, Dairy Queen runs, when other friends would sleep over, and talks that would go late into the night. My heart still craves that kind of close female friendship--it seems like lately I get little tastes of it here and there but not enough to really satisfy that need.

If I desire this friendship so much, then I need to put myself out there. Everyone my age is busy, either with things at home or at work or with ministry. But if I don't put forth the effort, then how can I reap the rewards? I want to be a better friend to those who have stood by me for so long. I think it starts with little things:  texting an encouraging word, asking how I can pray for them (and actually praying for them), or making room in our schedules for a coffee date. But I want to go even deeper than that. I want to look for ways that I can show love to my friends. I want to find a way to be involved in their lives even when time and distance prevents me from being physically present in their lives as much as I would like. I need to put forth the effort to make things happen. And I am still okay with a late night chat from time to time. :)

"The greatest among you must be a servant. But those who exalt themselves will be humbled, and those who humble themselves will be exalted." --Matthew 23:11-12

Grace Upon Grace

This song has been running through my head today...I was going to highlight a certain part of the song that really stuck out to me, but, honestly, every single word has spoken to my soul today.

You have ordained every breath we take 

In pleasure or pain, there is no mistake 

Gladness and grief, both are in Your hand 

And sufferings brief carry out Your plan 

And our fleeting sorrows

Will yield an endless prize

When some bright tomorrow 

We’ll see You with our eyes, and

Grace upon grace flows down, flows down 

Grace upon grace flows down, flows down 

Through the precious blood of Christ

Father of lights, Giver of all grace

Your mercies crown our lives all our days 

River of Life, quench our thirsty souls

For no true delight does Your love withhold 

And in every season

We are satisfied

For just one reason

Christ was crucified, and

All good gifts, every good thing 

Comes to us freely, so freely 

All good gifts, every good thing 

Comes to us freely, so freely 

Through the precious blood 

Through the precious blood

Today, I had the perfect moment of delight when I got to see this:

Scrunched up little forehead, adorable button nose, perfectly chubby cheeks...oh, and that mouth--I'm in love! This is the one I have been dreaming of.

But delight can be bittersweet when gladness is tempered with grief. No, there is no cause for alarm. Baby is growing and active and my womb seems to be the perfect baby motel when it comes to the last trimester. I just don't know how that all works out, what with my being 'a foot shy of 5' 11"', as my doctor said today. :) My ultrasound today was a growth check to see what position the baby is in and its estimated size to help us make a more informed decision. At 37 weeks and one day, Baby measured at 37 weeks and six days, and was estimated to be seven pounds and eight ounces. Whew! Now everyone can see why I am so tired.

The estimation supposedly has a one-pound margin of error, but when Kieran had a growth check at 38 weeks, he was estimated to be seven pounds and 11 ounces--and he came out at eight pounds and two ounces. So...it all seems pretty plausible. Needless to say, the doctor I saw today did not have the encouragement that I wanted to hear. I had never met him before, but everyone at the clinic seems to rave about him. 

He gave me the "if you were my daughter" speech, which outlined what he thought were my chances. If, say, he thought I had an 85 percent chance of a successful labor and delivery, he would consider my one percent chance of uterine rupture to be worth the risk. But since my c-section last time was not due to some sort of emergency but because of a slow progression of labor and Kieran not dropping down like he should, he thought that dropped me down to a 50/50 chance. Add to that the "strike" against me of my stature and the apparent chubbiness of my babies (in Kieran's defense, he was also 21 inches long, which is the longer end of the spectrum that I usually see), and he saw me dropping down to a 25 percent chance of a successful delivery. Comparing that 25 percent chance against that same one percent chance of rupture, he does not see how it would be really worth the risk.

All that aside, he also said he wouldn't be mad at his daughter if she tried anyway. ;)

I have to admit that this was so not the news that I was wanting to hear. It has to be pretty similar to training for a marathon for nine months...and then being told at the last minute that you have been disqualified. How disheartening. I definitely cried once I got into my car--not out of any ungratefulness, but because I had just had one of my very real hopes crushed. I was trying to pour it all out to God as I drove to the mall to run an errand before I went home, but I was having such a hard time pinning down all of my emotions. They all seemed illogical next to the fact that I have a live, healthy baby growing inside of me.

I dropped off my wedding ring to be cleaned while I ran errands, and when I came back, I found a pretty awesome surprise. Not only had the jeweler cleaned my ring, but she re-plated it for me--for free! It is something I have been wanting to do for a long while now but hadn't found a good time to spend the money. She said my ring (which is white gold) was starting to yellow, which was why she did it. I know that it was also pretty scuffed up in general and had a couple really good scratches after six-plus years. It is so beautiful and shiny, and it looks almost like new!!

And as I walked back to my car, I again wanted to cry. God encouraged me at the moment that I needed it and showed me exactly how His grace works in my life. He takes something tarnished and beaten down by the world and covers it with His grace, making it new again. And that is exactly what He did with my perspective. As the song says, "You have ordained every breath we take/In pleasure or pain, there is no mistake/Gladness and grief, both are in Your hand/And sufferings brief carry out Your plan...All good gifts, every good thing/Comes to us freely, so freely."

God has ordained this for my life. I don't know the reason, but then, I'm not always supposed to know, am I?  Yes, there was something I greatly desired that I had asked God for on many occasions. Most likely, I will not get exactly what I asked for. But I also asked that God would protect my baby and cause him or her to grow. And I asked Him to show me how to be the mom s/he needs me to be, as I learn to be a mother of two. And He is working out these things in His own time. 

Time and time again, we will face disappointments in this life and see our lives not taking the path we thought that they would. But time and time again, God will satisfy us in every season.

Grace upon grace.