Big enough.

I started this the end of last week and just finished it up, so the timing is a little weird, but you get the idea!

Can we talk about how good God is? I often (incorrectly) think that my problems aren’t big enough for God to care about. I mean, there are so many other bigger, heavier things in the world than what I’ve got going on. And I sometimes either forget entirely to take my worries to God, or just hate to bug Him about something so trivial in the grand scheme of things, so I just don’t. But last night I couldn’t sleep. My husband and I went back to work yesterday after having been off since last Friday (different post about our Nashville trip coming soon.) We both were feeling the weight of not being where we feel we need to be. We both had the “back to work blues,” but it’s also more than that. For a while, we’ve known there are changes coming, and we’ve prayed for them. But it’s also been scary, because change is scary. And I’m not sure anyone hates change more than I do. But last night, I was laying there thinking and praying about all the things in my life that I am not sure about, and God gave me an “epiphany,” haha. 

I’ve been selling Avon for 9 years now, since I quit my daycare job in 2013. When we lived at our old house, it allowed me to meet a lot of our neighbors that I probably wouldn’t have otherwise. In 2017, we moved to where we live now, on the other side of the county, in my granny’s old house. Ever since we moved, every two weeks I’ve been driving the 15 miles from our current house to our old road to take Avon brochures to our old neighbors, as some of them still buy from me. I’m not going to lie, I’m not a fan of selling anything. I hate the sales pitches and phone calls… it’s just really not me. I literally get a stress headache every two weeks when I go to put out my books and always pray that no one is out in their yard when I go. But, I grew up helping my mom do Avon for years, and when I needed a little extra money, it seemed like the thing to do. That night, though, I had just written all my tickets and figured up how much I made that campaign – (getting really honest here) $15.74. I pay $19.75 for just the brochures now, and that doesn’t even figure in my gas to drive out there (which we all know is getting higher by the day now), my time, my supplies, anything else. As I laid there thinking, it hit me all the sudden… I’m losing money and wasting time on something I DON’T EVEN WANT TO DO. I grabbed my phone and started typing out a note that I’m going to put on the next books that I take to our old neighbors. For now, I have decided to scale back, and see if that makes a difference. I’m not going to drive to the other end of the county every two weeks, and I’m not wasting a whole morning that I could be spending quality time with my daughter or working at my stay-at-home job that pays real, actual, hourly money.

I’ve been complaining so long about how I really don’t like doing my Avon, and every time my husband has a simple answer, “Quit!” It’s funny how it’s easier to see the answer to someone else’s problem than your own. He’s been having issues at work for a while now, and it’s taken everything in me not to be that wife and just march right up there and demand they treat him better. I would never do that for myself, but for my husband? I would muster up every ounce of courage and outspokeness in me to see he’s given the recognition he deserves. Today, after having an apparent epiphany of his own, he came home and told me that he finally took a step in making his work situation better. Was it a big step? No, but it’s definitely something. Was me deciding to be more selective with my Avon business a big step? Nope. But, after he came home and told me that, I just wanted to cry. God knows. He knows the desires of our hearts, but He also knows us, and what it would do to us if change were thrust upon us. We would shut down. So He’s working in us where and how we are, at a pace that doesn’t freak us out too much. He prepares our hearts and minds for the next step. And that’s just absolutely beautiful. It also struck me as funny that we both made our decisions without talking to the other first… we NEVER do that. We tell each other everything. But I imagine my husband knew I would approve of what he had planned and I knew that he would definitely approve of the conclusion I had come to. I was all proud to tell him, then he came in and surprised me with what he had done. It’s a God thing, you all. It just is. And I’m so scared to see where we’re headed, but I’m also so excited, because I know that God is going before us and making a way. I know He has big plans for us, and I know He knows and cares about all our little problems along the way. How good is God? ❤

Dream.

I’ve been really bad about blogging lately. I only wrote this because, yet again, it started out as an Instagram post and I got too long winded for their caption word limit. Anyway, I wrote this almost two weeks ago and I’m just now getting around to finishing it…

The stomach bug got sweet girl at the beginning of this week. It’s been rough. She’s already tiny (not dangerously so, don’t worry) and had just started finally gaining weight after being sick for what felt like most of fall and winter. Since November, she’s had some sort of viral bug, multiple colds, covid, and an ear infection. Now this.

Her room is usually the cleanest, most organized room in the house. When I feel like we’re living in chaos, I can usually go in there and instantly feel better. Well, between having to wash and change her bedding and blankets constantly, keeping the trash can close, her having small spurts of energy and wanting to read only to have to take a nap on my chest in the chair again… it’s A MESS. I walked in there earlier to grab something and thought, “This is an accurate representation of my brain right now.” I feel so restless. I feel like change is coming. I feel like I’ve got a million different things going on. I feel like a mess. But just like the fact that her room won’t always look like this, I won’t always feel like this. I know change is coming. I know God has plans for me, for my family… exciting, scary, wonderful plans. I just have to keep going, and to keep leaning into Him in the waiting.

The other day, I wrote out in the note pages of my planner, a plan. If you know me, you know I’ve never been a super goal-oriented person. Growing up in school, I was that annoying kid that all the teachers loved. I got good grades, I was quiet, I loved to help, and I never got in trouble. I was also that annoying kid that didn’t have to work too hard to get good grades. Most subjects came easily to me. But I absolutely dreaded when we would have career day or writing prompts about what we wanted to be when we grew up. I would always end up saying something like ballerina (although I had less than zero athletic ability, that’s nice and girly, right?) or doctor (because even at a really young age, I knew the grownups thought that was a good job because you get paid a lot.) I always agonized over these things, making up absolutely untrue reasons for my “aspirations.” I learned really early on how to say exactly what was expected of me and how to “B.S.” my way through schoolwork. It served me very well, even through college, haha. The point is, I’ve never been a big dreamer. They would go through this whole list of careers that we could choose from, and none of them sounded like they were for me. It sounds a little shallow as I type this out, but I can remember spending hours and hours pouring over my mom’s Good Housekeeping and Family Circle magazines. I just thought that was how life was supposed to be. Pristine home, home cooked meals, fun activities planned for the kids, family vacations, the works. I loved my family, and from the looks of things in those magazines, that was how you showed people you loved them: by buying the trendiest plaid couch or refreshing the drapes. Y’all, I know how this sounds. I know every feminist everywhere is probably crying right now, but I don’t care. I grew up watching shows like The Dick Van Dyke Show, I Love Lucy, Bewitched, I Dream of Jeannie, and so many more. The only thing that ever really appealed to me was being a wife and a mother. That’s what I wanted to be when I grew up. I know some people read that and immediately rolled their eyes. Some people have probably stopped reading by now, but hear me out. I’m not saying that any of those other professions are worse or better than what I wanted to do. I’m not saying that what I wanted was for everyone, because I’m not that naive, I know everyone is different. But for me, that was it. And growing up in the 90’s, I caught on pretty quickly that being a wife and a mother was not considered “a real job.” My mom has sold Avon for decades. When my sister and I were kids, she was a full time mom and an entrepreneur. But people still had the nerve to often dump responsibilities on her because “she has more time, she doesn’t work.” Um, excuse me? I take offense to this now as someone who stays home with a little and works from home. It’s HARD. It’s TIME CONSUMING. It’s absolutely EXHAUSTING. And just because my schedule may be a little more flexible than some does not mean I don’t have a job. I’m off topic here… anyway. It was obvious to me, even as a child, that I couldn’t express my dream of wanting to be a wife and mother without teachers trying to convince me that something else was better. So I just never voiced that dream. In middle school, we had job shadowing. We were supposed to go shadow someone who had the career we thought we wanted. This, of course, caused me anxiety, but I finally decided to shadow my aunt who was an office administrator at our local university. When I told my teacher who I was shadowing, she said (in the most condescending tone I might have ever heard), “You want to be a secretary?” 13 year old me felt anger for my aunt toward this teacher. I’m not sure I ever told my aunt about that interaction. But you know what? I did like working in her office. I liked organizing and straightening papers. The tiny teacher’s helper in me found it to be satisfying work. What in the world was so wrong with being a secretary?

Anyway, all this to say, the only dream I’ve ever had about my life so far was that I wanted to get married and I wanted to have kids. I remember planning it all out in a journal when I was like 10 or 11. I had each room in my future house designed and color schemes picked out (obviously my tastes have changed a bit and we didn’t in fact paint our bathroom lime green.) I had baby names picked out. I cared about this more than most anything, and I actually documented that dream. I planned for that dream. I hoped and prayed over that dream. And now, as cheesy and ridiculous as it may sound, I’m living my dream. I’m married to my absolute best friend and we have the sweetest daughter. And it may not look like a picture from a 90s magazine (or a current magazine or Pinterest or whatever for that matter), but it’s ours and it’s a dream come true. Never have I ever written out anything else in such hope. Never have I sat down and planned anything else so carefully. Until the other day.

A little (vague, because I’m not mentally prepared to be specific yet) backstory. There is something in my life that molded and shaped me more than I would have thought, especially in my teenage years. I’ve halfway joked for years about something related to that or thought that maybe in a different lifetime I would have done x, y, z. As the years have gone on, my circumstances have changed, I’ve grown and learned and lived, and that joke has become more of an aspiration that has seemed not very attainable at all. But quite recently, it keeps creeping into my mind. I’d love to do it, but I’d be scared, I don’t know where to start, I’d have to learn so many new things, it would be a huge commitment… The other day, I couldn’t concentrate on my work, so I sat down and just wrote the words at the top of the page. I looked at it for a moment, and then started writing furiously. I wrote down vague ideas and specific aesthetics. I wrote down goals. I just kept writing. When I finally stopped writing, I read over it and was more than a lot nervous about a) what I had actually written, and b) the manic state that I seemed to be in for a minute. I sat there and stared at the page, astounded that the words on that page had come out of my hand. Then I started to pray, confused about what had just happened. I literally said to God, “This scares the crap out of me. Is this actually something I can be praying over? Is this actually a thing?” And I immediately heard a “Yes!” What? I don’t know. This happened last week and I’m still processing it. But, you guys, it has to be important. I’m not a dreamer. I’m still that annoying, shy, quiet third grader who doesn’t rock the boat and has “simple” aspirations. I don’t do “big dreams,” so this is so out of character for me. It’s gotta be a God thing. And it’s going to be good. And terrifying.

Lose.

As soon as the new year hit, I was BOMBARDED with ads on Facebook and Instagram for weight loss programs. When I watched TV, every other commercial was for a diet plan, gym membership, or piece of workout equipment. I get it, I’ve fallen into that “new year, new me” mentality before. I’ve fallen into thinking that the new year was somehow going to bring new focus, new drive, new motivation. And then I was sorely disappointed yet again to figure out that I was still me. A turn of the calendar page did not mean anything. This year was the first year I think I was actually aware of what is going on. I mean, yes, I’ve always known that the big weight loss push happens at the first of the year, but I hadn’t truly ever thought about what it meant. It means that the majority of us are unhappy with our bodies for some reason or another, and it means that we fall victim over and over again to big corporations trying to cash in on our unhealthy relationships with our bodies. I’m not saying that weight loss itself is a bad thing, but it really irks me that we “need” all this help. Why are we not taught practical ways to care for our bodies when we are kids? Why is junk food, fast food, and convenience food pushed on us? So that we will need to buy that diet plan later. And we have all these things that make our lives easier, but sometimes all it does is make us have to move less. We are so sedentary. And then we have to schedule out even more time to work out, we have to buy equipment for it, it’s a whole thing. And now I sound like a crazy conspiracy theorist, but it’s a gross cycle.

As I sat and watched TV the other day, I felt physically ill seeing all of these commercials. “Before” pictures showing unhappy, (sometimes) overweight individuals would fill the screen. One in particular I saw three times in one sitting and I couldn’t get over it. It showed this woman who was talking about how she didn’t like her body anymore and “didn’t recognize” herself, so she had to buy this program. I KID YOU NOT, I swear they bought her the same track suit from her before picture in a bigger size so it would look like she had lost weight. If you really focus on her, she doesn’t look any different. What in the world are we being fed?

I understand the need for our society as a whole to be healthier, I really do. But I absolutely know that these “miracle” programs are not the answer. And the fact that every other ad that is pushed into our faces tells us that our bodies need this or that before they are acceptable is bull. I am as heavy right now as I was when I was nine months pregnant with my daughter, and I’ll be honest, when I realized that, I was freaked out. I weigh so much that it is entirely possible for me to fit a whole [albeit small] other person inside me. I felt the initial shame, disgust, and general unhappiness with my body that the world tells me I should feel. But over the last several months, I’ve come to terms with my body. This body of mine has carried me through every single day. It has held me as I’ve had my weakest, most emotional moments over the last couple of years. It has hugged and hugged and hugged some more. It has laughed, it has cried, it has ached. It has stretched and it has held another human being. It has nourished our daughter and held her as she cried. It is the perfect body that God made for me, and I am done hating it. Now, I’m not saying this is where I need to live forever, that I couldn’t improve. I could definitely be a better steward of the blessing of my body that God has given me; I could do a better job of taking care of it. However, I will not be shamed into thinking that I have to be a certain size or eat a certain meal to be worthy of some arbitrary praise. My body is mine, and I won’t be shamed into hating it anymore.

One of my very favorite wedding photos, taken after the ceremony. I was so completely overwhelmed with emotion and my sweet husband was comforting me.

[My husband just asked me what I was “over there blogging about,” and I told him. He said, “Well, I love your body.” Ladies, find yourself a man who will not only appreciate your body no matter the size, but love it unconditionally. I am definitely not the same size (or shape for that matter) as when we first met, or even when we got married (although I stress ate for like a full month before our wedding and did gain a ton of weight 臘‍♀️) Anyway, all that to say, my husband is the sweetest.] We need to love our bodies, right here right now, no matter what they look like.

Seasonal.

It’s that time of year again when I have to preach to myself about expectation, disappointment, and contentment. I love the holidays. I love the family time, the food, the decorations, and all the accompanying activities. It’s so stinking easy to get wrapped up in wanting to do all the things. It happens to me every year. And every year I learn yet again that time is what you make it and it’s all about perspective.

That awkward, in-between two great seasons look where dead mums and sparkly lights coexist.

October is one of my favorite months. It was over so quickly. I was getting all depressed the other day thinking about all the fall seasonal things I wanted to do and didn’t get to – go apple picking, go to different pumpkin patches, carve a pumpkin… the list goes on. But then I got to thinking about all the things we did get to do: went to our local pumpkin patch three times, took pictures in the sunflowers, picked out pumpkins, went to a trunk or treat at our church, went trick or treating in our neighborhood – just to name a few. We did so much, and we did it together. You all, it really is all about perspective. You can choose to focus on the things you didn’t do, don’t have, etc., or you can look at what you did do and do have and realize that you’re so incredibly blessed.

It feels like November has flown by. For most of the month, my daughter and I have been sick on and off, and I’ve had more migraines in the last couple of months than I ever remember having all together like this. That’s probably part of the reason I feel like I’ve missed it. I’m trying to enjoy every day, but the days are running together quickly. This is the time of year I wait for all year, and I feel like it’s passing me by. This is truly a test of living in the moment, and I don’t want to fail.

On Thanksgiving, like so many others, we watched the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day parade. I love the tradition and dependability of it- that every year, no matter what’s going on in my life, I can count on the parade to bring me some superficial joy as it signals the beginning of the holiday season. I think my favorite part is seeing the Rockettes, and I told my husband I think it’s because the show seems like a remnant of an earlier time. My husband and I were excitedly anticipating the parade, and I had been trying to talk it up to our three year old. The last couple of years, she has had zero interest in watching it and would get mad that we wanted to watch it. We were talking about it and I told her that she could see Santa at the end. She watched it with us, but about every five minutes asked if it was over yet. After she finally saw Santa, she looked at me and said, “I liked seeing Santa, but I didn’t like the parade.” I said, “Oh, well, it seemed like you liked the dancing.” She said, “I did!” Then I said, “Didn’t you like the floats?” “Oh, I loved seeing the floats!” she said. I explained that all those things made up the parade. She asked, “So does that mean I liked the parade?” “Yes, if you liked all the things about the parade, then that means you liked the parade.” “I didn’t like the parade,” she concluded.

The logic of our three year old didn’t seem too logical, but then I started thinking about how often times we think we are unhappy with our lives; we don’t see that our blessings make up our lives. We basically say, “God, I like that you love me and made me, but I don’t like the life you gave me.” I can almost hear him saying, “Don’t you like the people I gave you to love?” “Well, yes, of course. I love my friends and family!” “And it seems like you like the food I gave you to eat and the mountains, the ocean, the rivers,  and the changing seasons.” “Oh, yes,” we would say, “I’m so grateful for those things.” “Well, those things are your life.” I’m not trying to downplay that fact that there are parts of our lives that aren’t pleasant. We all experience heartache. But, it’s our focus that’s everything. During the parade, there were A LOT of commercials and I was kind of annoyed by how many there were, and how often. But, I didn’t dislike the parade itself just because I thought there were too many commercial interruptions. In the same way (this is a loose analogy, go with me here, haha), we have hard times, annoying times, unexpected times, but they aren’t who we are. They are just interruptions in the bigger picture. We are blessed, whether we choose to see it or not.

“How precious to me are your thoughts, O God! How vast is the sum of them! If I would count them, they are more than the sand. I awake, and I am still with you.” -Psalm 139:17&18

We awake, and God is still with us, every single day. Whether we’re driving around looking at Christmas lights and baking cookies, or just sitting on the couch and cuddling in our jammies, God is there. His love, mercy, grace, and blessings follow us wherever we go. He is good always, and nothing in this world can change that. Nothing. Happy holiday season, y’all. I pray that we all look beyond the stuff and all the things we think we have to do, and just bask in the vastness of God’s love.

Hello again.

Um, hi. It’s been a really long time since I made a post. Like, almost three months. I’ve not really had anything to say. I’ve been claiming to be “busy,” but now that I think about it, that’s not really true. Work is pretty slow and I’m in “catch up on background work mode,” which most days actually looks like “it’s nothing too urgent so I’ll play with my daughter instead mode.” I’ve been trying to just be more present, to keep my priorities straight, to put people before stuff, to live in the moment. But I’ve also not been going to the Word every day and as much I try not to base the quality of my faith on quantity of time in the word, I can’t help feeling guilty. I feel like if I’m going to be speaking to you on matters of faith, mine should probably be pretty solid. But honestly, my faith is a little shaky right now and it is all my fault. And I know it. So, I’ve felt like I didn’t “deserve” to come to you all. I know that’s not good either. I know I should lean on my friends and family in Christ during times like these. We all struggle. I know. I’ve told other people the exact same spiel. Uuuggghh. Accountability is hard. And I literally said to my husband the other night that I feel like exactly zero people care about what I have to say. Why would they? I’m just me. But then the very next day, God gently reminded me through someone I don’t even know that no matter how many people He puts in front of me, whether it’s thousands or just a handful, they are my calling. And so I must be obedient.

Anyway, even though the last few months haven’t necessarily been that busy, they’ve been hard. My husband had an especially frustrating and mentally exhausting time at work for a few weeks in there. I’ve been trying to be there for him, to be supportive. Something has to change. You all, we both feel like we’re supposed to work together. I know I’ve talked about this before, but it feels like it’s right around the corner. We’re both dragging our feet about it because we’re both a little scared, and we haven’t really gone to God about it together like I feel like we should. Pray for us, y’all. Change, even change that I want, absolutely terrifies me. All I know is that we both want to put family first, and the way things are right now, that makes it so hard to do. I’m so exhausted from feeling guilty about who is going to get the best of me on any given day. I feel like someone, whether it’s my husband or my daughter or my mom or my bosses or my friends or other family, always gets “end-of-my-rope stretched-too-thin” me. And that’s not fair to anyone. I feel like I’m in survival mode.

My husband and I went to a concert to celebrate our anniversary a couple of weeks ago. We drove to Florence, KY and stayed at the hotel where we stayed on our wedding night. (Neither of us really remembered the hotel very much even when we got there, haha. We were so tired on our wedding night and had to be at the airport the next day. It was all a blur.) We made a dinner reservation at The Melting Pot because we used to celebrate there all the time, but our local one closed. We had a wonderful fondue dinner and dessert, and I drank coffee after dinner because the opening act at the concert wasn’t going to start until 8 PM and mama had to stay awake. We drove to the venue and when we entered they were very strict about checking IDs and vaccination cards. That made me feel better. But, it wasn’t a socially distanced show, so the seats were full. I told my husband I was glad that we didn’t get lower arena seats, because they were all first come first serve and everyone was crowded around the stage. Luckily, two seats were empty in our row, so we got an empty seat on each side of us. But there were people directly behind and in front of us. I was a bit overwhelmed. I hadn’t been in a crowd like that for probably over two years. The only thing that made me feel better was that it was an amphitheater, so we had [a tiny bit of] fresh air blowing through the whole time. But it was such a good show. If you’ve never heard of Nathaniel Rateliff and The Night Sweats, look them up. It’s such a unique, vintage sound. And they put on a great show that was only the slightest bit rowdy, haha. We were pooped when we made it back to the hotel. The next morning we ate breakfast, checked out, then spent the afternoon at IKEA. We bought way more than we went for, but oh well… I got to eat Swedish meatballs.

On the way home I was talking to my husband about how much I appreciate these trips. This is the third little getaway that we’ve been able to have over the last year with just the two of us and I’m so thankful that we are blessed to be able to do so. We were walking through IKEA and I kept saying how much I missed our daughter. The same kid who the day before had me smiling through gritted teeth so that I wouldn’t lose my cool, I was missing terribly after less than 24 hours. These resets are so good for my soul. The time (truly) alone with my husband is so good for our relationship, not only as husband and wife, but also as friends. The time away from my daughter gets me out of the everyday and gives me perspective. The break in the monotony (as much as I actually like monotony) nourishes my body more than you can imagine. Just being somewhere different, seeing different places, even just for a day, is so refreshing to me. I love exploring with my husband – it’s one of my absolute favorite things. By myself? Not so much. At some point, traffic was terrible (if you live in Cincinnati or have visited, like, ever, you know that they are always working on the road somewhere), he looked at me and asked, “You up for an adventure?” He likes to find back ways to get where we’re going and sometimes they work and sometimes we get lost for a while. I smiled at him and said, “Will you be there?” He said, “Well, of course,” and I said, “Always.” I will always be down for an adventure with that man. ❤


As much as I love these trips, and as good as they are for my soul, I had a thought today. Sure, road trips, time away, concerts, good food, they can make me feel better for a while. But where do I turn when I’m in the trenches of everyday life? How do I fill my cup when I’m tired, when I’ve fought with my toddler all day, when the laundry hasn’t been folded and put away for longer than I care to admit? How do I get refreshed when there’s no getaway or vacation? God is there. He’s there all the time. His promises to me are the same as they were that day while I was riding in the car with my husband, and the same as they will be tomorrow as I’m filling up the dishwasher. God’s love for me is there. God’s peace is given to me freely every single day. God’s refuge and renewal is available to me every single second of my life. You all, do we really grasp that? I don’t think we do, or we wouldn’t strive so hard for “the next thing.” Life is hard enough as it is. Why do we insist on making it harder by trying to do things on our own?

Y’all, let’s be so incredibly thankful for the small (and big things) in this life that give our bodies and minds a reset, but let’s be infinitely more grateful for the One who can give our souls a supernatural peace and rest. Without Him, we are absolutely nothing.

When I thought, “My foot slips,” your steadfast love, O Lord, held me up. When the cares of my heart are many, your consolations cheer my soul.

Psalm 94:18+19

Waiting with patience.

For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now. And not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what he sees? But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.
Romans 8:22-25

I’ve got about a million things to do today before we leave on a mini-vacation next week. I honestly was not planning to get very deep in the word today… God had other, much better plans. I hurredly and out of sheer obligation said, “I’ll give you a few minutes,” and He said, “How about more than that?” Ugh, my priorities. I’m so sorry, Lord.
Anyway, I really liked the definition of hope in verses 24 and 25, but it doesn’t make much sense without some context. Plus, in verse 22 where it talks about us all collectively groaning? I felt that deep in my soul. Life is so very hard for all of us, and we’re all constantly battling something. To me, it’s so comforting to know that even the first Christians to receive the Holy Spirit felt the weight of it all. But I love what else it says – it’s the hope of something better to come that keeps us going, the same hope that saved us; God’s promises sustain us. The God that we’ve never physically seen gives us the strength to keep waiting. We wait patiently for the Lord because He was first patient with us. Our reward is not fully received this side of heaven. It’s not about this life so much. Our focus, our hope, our strength, rests in the unseen and eternal. The way this works is so beautiful to me. We groan inwardly as we wait eagerly. This is hope.

We hope because we believe God is who He says He is, and because we believe He is faithful to fulfill His promises. That led me to ask myself: What are we doing in the waiting? Praising, telling others, loving, caring for others, praying, learning? Or are we allowing ourselves to be distracted, wallowing in our hardships, being prideful and selfish? Do we make our hope look like something to want or do we push others away with our actions? Some things to ponder for sure, and some I definitely need to work on. I pray we all go into the new week with a renewed hope, waiting eagerly, even if we’re groaning inwardly, enduring because of our hope in Christ ❤

I wrote this last week and wanted to share. Since we’ve been back from our vacation, I’ve been in a funk. I don’t know if it’s post-vacation blues, or a fear of what could come of all the times we were in public this past week, or the fact that I had to come home and jump right back into work for a couple of days. I’ve had this feeling of impending doom, and I’ve felt physically blah. I’ve been irritable, short-tempered, and tense. I’m just not myself. I don’t know what that’s about, but I need it to stop. While we were gone, a husband and wife in our town were shot and killed. If you didn’t know them personally, you at least knew who they were. They were special to a lot of people. I have a family member and several acquaintances who were very close to them. They speak very highly of these people’s faith, love, and hospitality. It hurts my heart that our little town is going through this. And I think it shook me a bit – we don’t live very far from where it happened. If we had been here, would I have been driving by? My “what ifs” have been spiraling. Maybe that’s what’s wrong with me. I don’t know. Prayers for me and for you this week as we all groan inwardly as we wait patiently on the Lord. We can endure because of His strength through the Holy Spirit in us.

Still blessed.

I wrote this Friday, mostly so that I could look back and remember this chaos. But, I’m sure we’re not the only ones going through craziness, so hopefully this makes someone else feel a little less like life is attacking just them.
It has been A DAY. I knew I was going to have to take our puppy to the vet today, so I gave him a bath this morning. That’s always an event because he really hates it. My bathroom and I were completely soaked by the end of it. No big deal, I expected it. I took him to the vet, which is all still very no contact and my phone kept doing weird things when they tried to call me about him. But, he did good and we went and picked up my lunch from one of my favorite local restaurants and headed home. He was kind of upset and threw up in the car on the way home… not on the towel I had put down for him in the passenger seat. He laid his head over the console and puked right between it and the driver’s seat. I got home and tried to clean it, but I absolutely cannot reach it. My daughter wasn’t laying down for nap like she was supposed to be when I got home. She was procrastinating and being extra difficult. She had a meltdown over something ridiculous and this stubborn mama was not about to let her win that fight, so it escalated pretty quickly and before you know it we’re screaming at each other… (she is so much like me it’s scary sometimes, so we butt heads a lot.) Anyway, that happened. When she finally got to sleep, I calmed down, read some scripture, and decided that the first half of my day would not dictate the rest of it. When she woke up she was much more pleasant, and we ended up going to a small birthday gathering for some family. She had fun. When we got home, I was going to show my husband the dog puke in the car, and he told me that the garage door broke and wouldn’t go down. He looked at what was wrong with it and decided to tackle it after dinner. We went in and I started chopping garlic for our famous filet and brown butter (I don’t want to talk about how much my husband paid for steak the other day. We HAVE to eat it.) I was halfway through chopping the second clove when he looked at me and said, “We don’t have any salted butter.” Okay, plan B. We would have steak frites instead. He pulled out the brand new bag of potatoes that had never been opened… they were gross. Okay, plan C – we’re eating out. So, he put in a mobile order at Texas Roadhouse and went to pick it up. While he was gone, I let the dog out and he ran around the house. I went after him, because he’s notorious for pooping in the neighbors’ yard and finding the stinkiest thing he can find and rolling in it. My daughter came running out the front door and I yelled at her to go put some shoes on if she was coming outside. I go around to the dog, and after a few minutes I wondered where my daughter was. Just then, she came around the house barefoot screaming because she couldn’t find me. I decided to just let the whole “no shoes” thing slide, I was over arguing for the day. We have a few potted herbs out back and they looked kind of sad, so I offered to let her help water them. I got the hose and we sprayed them down, and the dog tried to eat the water, so he was soaked. I went to turn off the water and roll up the hose and I noticed a wasp on the hose reel. I backed up and waited a minute until I didn’t see it anymore, then went over and turned off the water. As I started to roll up the hose, the wasp flew at me and bumped into my arm. I started freaking out (I know… the opposite of what you’re supposed to do.) My daughter came over to see what was going on and that wasp stung her on the arm. So I’m holding a hysterical three year old trying to wrangle a wet puppy into the house. We finally made it in and we washed the sting and then put ice on it. She was a trooper, and I was so proud of how she handled it. Dinner was delicious and ended up being kind of like a special treat since we don’t eat that kind of thing all the time. After we got our daughter in bed, I went outside with my husband and offered moral support while he fixed the garage door (I tried to actually help at one point, but my arms are about as strong as a wet noodle, so I was no help.) We came in at like 10 PM just absolutely exhausted from the day. Now I’m drinking some sleepy time tea listening to him play on the acoustic guitar and all I can think of is how blessed we are.
Yes, today was crazy and exhausting and a ton of stuff went wrong. But you know what? A ton of stuff went right, too. Our dog is healthy and has had his first round of vaccinations. I had a really delicious lunch. Our daughter is healthy and growing and becoming her own person. We have a great, reliable car that gets us where we need to go. The dog puke didn’t really smell bad, haha 😆. My daughter and I got to spend some time with family we haven’t seen in so long. We had a delicious dinner and were blessed enough to have the money to buy it. My husband is a genius and knows how to fix garage doors, so we didn’t have to call someone and have them come out. So many blessings sprouted from all the craziness.


There were so many days, weeks, months last year that I longed for these kinds of things to be the only sort of thing I had to worry about. In the midst of despair, mourning, and helplessness, dog puke would have seemed like a minor inconvenience – nothing at all. And that’s kind of been my point of view today. It’s alright. God is still good. We are still infinitely blessed.

Reading

Last week, our daughter’s behavior was pretty atrocious. Now, I will concede that her behavior is normal, maybe even slightly better than most three year olds most days. I am reminded of that when we (rarely) go out in public. However, for her, she’s been crazy.

On a typical day, she watches three thirty minute shows – one at breakfast, one at lunch, and one at snack. Sometimes she opts to forgoe one of those and have tablet time during the day instead. I don’t know how we got into the habit of watching so much TV, and you don’t have to lecture me about the dangers of associating television and food… I know 🤦‍♀️ … I never let her watch more than that, though. Except on weekend mornings, when we watch a movie at breakfast as a family. This past weekend, we talked her into watching The Emperor’s New Groove, which is one of my favorite movies. It’s rated G, so I didn’t think much of it. But, I never realized how many stinkin’ times that movie says, “kill,” “dead,” “die,” and more. My little sweet girl has purposely been sheltered from the phenomenon of death, because she’s so smart and inquisitive and I would never hear the end of the questions. I really don’t think she would be able to sleep trying to understand the concept. This mama’s just not ready to talk about that yet. So, her behavior had already been questionable, and when she yelled, “I’m going to kill you!” at me on Sunday (something she heard on the movie), I knew something had to change. I had already limited the kids’ shows she could even watch, because certain ones made her behavior noticeably worse. So, on Monday, I told her she could only watch one episode for the whole day and she could pick between three shows that I approved. I ended up talking her into reading at breakfast. We read through her whole Bible story book while we ate, and had some great conversations about God. After breakfast, she was the sweetest kid – helpful, polite – there was an immediate difference in her behavior. She was good all morning. She ended up listening to music at lunch time and had a good nap after that. She woke up from nap, and I expected her to ask for a show with her snack. Instead, she asked if we could eat on the front porch. Of course I said yes, and we had a little picnic on the porch. When we were finished eating, she asked if we could play outside. I told her that I still had some work to do, but that she could sit on the porch and play with some toys while I worked (I can see the porch from where I sit to work.) So we went in her room to get some toys, and she got so excited and said, “What if I take a bunch of books to read instead?” I agreed that would be great, and we carried one whole shelf-ful of books to the porch. She sat on her “picnic blanket” and read her books and was still there when my husband got home from work. The sight of her reading and reading just absolutely warmed my heart. She had a couple of pre-bedtime meltdowns, but nothing like she has had lately. Yesterday and today, she’s watched her one show and that’s it. She’s so much sweeter, and mama is in a much better mood, too.

My little reader 💕 This makes my heart so happy.

I understand why parents plop their kids in front of the the TV, I really do – it’s easy and convenient. But, in our case, it was actually making life more difficult because it was affecting her behavior, and in turn, my behavior. Everything was an argument. Her attitude was terrible. We relate to each other so much better when we are able to share morning reading time and when we are both in a better mood. This has worked wonders this week. I pray we don’t ever fall into the habit of so much TV again. Like I said, I don’t even know how that happened. I swore I wouldn’t be that mom, and when she was younger, we really didn’t let her watch that much. I’m not going to sit here and tell you that cutting out or significantly lowering screen time is a fix-all for behavior issues, because I know it’s not. However, I would recommend trying it! It’s worked wonders over here. Hang in there mamas (and daddies!), parenting is so hard and is such a balance. I’m rooting for you, and more importantly, praying for you. You’ve got this, and so do I.

Love better.

But I say to you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you… For if you love those who love you, what reward do you have? Do not even the tax collectors do the same? And if you greet only your brothers, what more are you doing than others? Do not even the Gentiles do the same? You therefore must be perfect, as your Heavenly Father is perfect.
Matthew 5:44, 46-48

THIS. IS. SO. GOOD. And relevant. What makes us stand out as Christians? How do people see that we follow Jesus? What makes us different? This is it. This should be it. So many times, over the past year especially, I’ve seen my fellow Christians, even people I know and love from our own church family, just absolutely hating on other people: putting them down, judging, saying they “deserve” some hardship or struggle because of something they say or do or believe. I’ve written about this kind of thing before, long before COVID, but this pandemic, this crisis that could have brought us closer together, that could have been our time to shine a light in a dark world, instead divided us; it brought out a really ugly, dismissive, prideful side of people (mainly people who claim to be Christians) that absolutely breaks my heart.
When people look to us at a time like this (or any time really) and see us acting no differently (or maybe even worse) than the rest of the world, why would they want what we have? If that’s what it means to follow Christ, what’s so great about it?


If the world doesn’t see supernatural, unconditional love in us, they won’t see Jesus. That last verse is scary. How the heck can we be perfect? We can’t, and God knows that. Otherwise we wouldn’t need Jesus. And that’s why He sent us the Holy Spirit. His love is perfected in our weakness. (1 John 4:12)

This passage is so powerful to me because these are Jesus’ words. Jesus himself is calling us out, calling us to a higher standard, and calling us to LOVE BETTER.

No good.

I’m going to be really honest for a second, because this has been on my heart a lot lately. All this “treat yo self” crap is just that. Crap. Yes, we need to refuel ourselves, eat right, exercise, spend time in the Word and in prayer, rest if that’s what our souls are needing. But as Christians we are literally called to go outside of our comfort zone. We are called to put others before ourselves. And you know what? That’s exactly the opposite of what the world tells us we “deserve.” Dismissing others’ feelings, opinions, desires because they don’t “make us happy” is a worldly point of view. It hurts others, and it hurts us. What if no one ever challenged what I thought? What if I lived blissfully in my own little bubble while people around me are hurting, maybe even because of something I’ve done? You all, I just can’t even properly find the words for this right now. If you’re tired, by all means, pour into yourself. But, pour Jesus into your cup. Pour His majesty in nature, His word, His forgiveness, His grace in there. Not self-help books, the world’s words, or anything else that the world offers. Those things are like salt water, and will leave you more thirsty than when you started. I’m preaching to the choir. Right now, I’m in a horrible cycle of doing just what I’ve been talking about. I keep looking for spiritual strength in all the places except the one place I can actually get it: Jesus’ arms.

I say to the Lord, “You are my God; I have no good apart from you.”
Psalm 16:2

No good apart from the Lord. That is a big truth to take hold of. Nothing in this life is good without Him, and absolutely NOTHING can take His place: not money, not a house, not a better job, not a spouse, not a child, not that trip to Target (hey, me 👋), not that new outfit or haircut, not a TV show, not music. Some of those are a little hard to swallow, but anything and everything that distracts us from the love of the Lord is not good, even if it isn’t inherently bad. Most distractions Satan throws at us aren’t. And it’s so easy to fall into thinking, “If I only had [insert whatever you want here], I’d be happy.” But ask anyone who’s actually gotten what they’ve wanted, there’s always something else that comes along to take its place. If we’re always waiting around for that next thing that we think will “make us happy,” we will miss the joy that God has for us – right here, right now. As Solomon frequently says in Ecclesiastes, “all is vanity.” All is shallow, all will leave us empty. The only purpose of this life is to love God and keep His commandments.
I think that’s where people get hung up a lot of the time. We don’t want to give up our stuff, even if it is making us miserable. We don’t want to give up our control, even though we don’t know what the heck we’re doing. We ask ourselves what if what we want to do is different than what God wants us to do? We get stuck on what we’re “giving up” to follow God. But one of the beautiful things about God is that He truly cares for us. He wants us to have joy, which is way better than temporary happiness. We’re trudging through life with a worldly perspective when we’ve been given the power to walk on top of it with a heavenly focus. He can fulfill desires we didn’t even know we had if we just surrender to Him. There is NO GOOD apart from Him. NONE.