Routine.


This kid had a blast this Easter weekend getting to see people she hasn’t in forever, eating more candy and sweets than she’s normally allowed, and staying up way past bedtime. This mama was and is stressed out because she has a sleep-deprived, sugared up, out-of-routine three year old. Whew.
The balance is so hard. I feel like people think I’m too strict, that I expect too much from her, that I don’t let her have enough fun. But, I’m trying to raise a person. I’m trying to raise a human being who isn’t obsessed with consumerism, who appreciates the simple things, who doesn’t expect anything to be handed to her on a silver platter. I’m trying to raise a woman who knows how to do things for herself, who works hard, who is respectful of others, and who knows how to enjoy things in moderation.


I think most people think, “Well, she’s just three, let her be a kid.” And I do, I promise. But childhood is when kids learn how to be mentally healthy, functional, productive adults. If we don’t teach them the healthy way to interact with their world, in a way they currently understand, they’ll be left to figure it out on their own. I’m building her foundation. I’m planting the seeds. Mamas, it’s important work that God has given us to do. Plus, discipline, structure, and saying “no” from time to time, makes our lives as parents easier in the long run. I promise. It’s hard in the moment, but consistency is key. It will pay off.
So, when our “consistency” goes out the window (2020 anyone?) it makes me nervous. It takes us DAYS to get back into our routine and for her to get back to normal. I know there are going to be times when things happen that are beyond my control (again, I say, 2020 anyone?) and there are obviously times- like holidays, birthdays, etc.- that will make exceptions and be more lax. Because I also want her to love to celebrate. We’re big everyday celebrators over here. But, ugh, it makes me nervous. Like I said, the balance is so hard.

Well, there’s my parenting rant. This thing started out as a caption to an Instagram photo, but, I’m me and I get long-winded. Don’t ask me something and expect a short or straight to the point answer… I’m going to tell you all the things – things you didn’t ask about, things that this thing reminded me of, things I’m feeling about the thing you asked me about, random things I think of, and maybe I’ll tell you the thing you wanted to know in the first place. Maybe. I’m an over-explainer and an over-sharer. And then I’ll have anxiety about it all because I was annoying and talked too much. And I’ll probably agonize over it for months. So there’s that peek into my brain. See: over-sharer.

The days.

Motherhood is the absolute weirdest thing. When I first became a mama, I swear I really couldn’t see an end to the constant nursing sessions, the worry over the duration and frequency of my baby’s sleep, the continual state of fatigue. I thought I was miserable. I thought I wanted my life back. I’ve briefly mentioned before that I probably had some PPD for a few months after my daughter was born. I was not a nice person. My emotions were all over the place, the lack of sleep was just making me mean, and I felt like a milk-making shell of my former self. I vividly remember looking at myself in the bathroom mirror the day we came home from the hospital and literally jumping with fright because I did not recognize the person looking back at me. I thought I physically looked like a different person. It was probably a combination of post natal weight loss (I lost like 19 pounds that first couple of weeks after only gaining 14 with the baby), hormones, and residual drug hangover from the almost full-body anesthesia I received during my c-section. Whatever it was, it was the weirdest feeling in the world. I just felt like I wasn’t me. Those first few months were a whirlwind, but they also seemed to drag on forever.
I was thinking about this the other day, how each week was a milestone with a new baby, and seven more days felt like an eternity. Each week seemed like it brought so much change with her, and she grew so fast. Every week, every month, felt like a birthday. In the span of her short life on earth so far, a month was pretty much her whole life. It was like time was soooo slow those first few months while I was in them, but now looking back, they felt fast. It’s funny how we remember things differently after the fact than how they felt at the time. Is this some sort of God-given gift (curse?) so that we won’t remember how horrible it was and do it again? I’ve heard many women talk about this phenomenon. In John 16:21, Jesus says, “When a woman is giving birth, she has sorrow because her hour has come, but when she has delivered the baby, she no longer remembers the anguish, for joy that a human being has been born into the world.” It’s always been a thing. When I got to the hospital after my water broke, the nurses were working on me and talking to me, and I looked at my husband, terrified, and said, “I don’t want to do this anymore. I changed my mind.” It was the scariest thing I’ve ever done. No amount of reading, talking with people, learning, could have really prepared me for what I was getting ready to experience. I was terrified. And yet, women have been doing the exact same thing since the beginning. And they’ve had sorrow because their hour has come, just like I did. And then they forgot all about that when their tiny, precious human life is in their hands.

Not the photo that prompted this post, but I still look happy in this one too!

Anyway, this whole post started because I recently saw a picture of myself holding my sweet girl, who was only a few months old. If you had asked me at the time that picture was taken, I would have told you I had never been more miserable in my life. I was tired, I was constantly worried about everything, I hated breastfeeding (which made me feel terrible, persistent guilt), I had no clue who I was outside of feeding, changing, and sleeping. Sure, I loved my sweet girl more than anything, but I was miserable. But looking at myself in that picture, I’ve never looked happier. Now that I look back, I long for that feeling of being needed every second of every day. I miss being able to fully nourish my child with my own body. I was so happy and I didn’t even know it. I know that makes zero sense, and to someone who’s not a mama, it may be incomprehensible. But that’s what motherhood is. And I suspect it’s still happening. I said the other day that I know these are the “good old days.” I know I’ll long for these days again, just as I long for those first miserable moments of motherhood. Even though right now it feels like I’m dredging through the days, I’ll realize I was happy. Ugh, it’s so hard. Really living in the moment is so hard. Appreciating what we have right now is sometimes so hard. But if we want to live a joyful life, it’s exactly what we need to do. Choosing joy is the hard thing, but the best thing.

Edited to add that as I reread this post to publish it tonight, I needed the reminder. Sweet girl has had some especially rough days recently – she’s been obstinate, rude, forgotten her manners, yelled, skipped naps, gone to bed late… all the things. These are the days, even when they are hard.

Mom guilt.


The mom guilt today is real. I usually spend all day every day with my sweet girl, but the last two mornings, I’ve had appointments and errands in the morning, and she has stayed at the house with my mom. I work from home, and I always struggle with balance, but today it was about to send me over the edge. She, for whatever reason, didn’t take a nap. She laid in there for over an hour just playing and talking, and yelling at me every thirty minutes or so needing water or her blanket fixed or to tell me she loved me. I know she was having trouble sleeping, and I felt bad. But, I never truly understand how much I appreciate nap time until she doesn’t take a nap. My nerves were absolutely shot. I was trying to eat my lunch and get some work done, and just hearing her in there absolutely wound up was stressing me out. At some point, she wanted to get up, but it was like thirty minutes until nap time is usually over. I tried to explain to her that she had to just lay there and be quiet until it was time. She just kept yelling for me to come back, getting increasingly whiny and obstinate. You all, I snapped. I yelled. I stomped. I acted like a toddler. I had to leave the room and compose myself before I went back in. I scooped her up and held her in her chair. I told her I was sorry that she was having trouble falling asleep, and I apologized for losing my temper. She apologized for not being nice to me. And despite the fact that I was stressed about only having done exactly five minutes of work, I just sat there and let her lay on me. We both calmed down, and we just cuddled until it was time to get up. I don’t know if she was just feeling like she hadn’t seen me much lately or what, but that was what we both needed. This afternoon was the same old, “mama, will you play with me?” “In a few minutes, baby, mama has to finish her work.” Sprinkled with potty breaks, reaching a book off the tall shelf every five minutes, her handing me pretend paintings that she has “made”, and some general distractions. When I finally came to a stopping point with my work (I swear, I never actually finish) we went outside and played. That was nice, and I feel like we both felt better after that. Ugh, guys. How am I supposed to do it all? Be present, be productive, keep the house clean, the dishes and the laundry done, exercise, plan and eat healthy meals, read my bible, spend time in prayer, carve out time for my friends, spend time on my side gig, have “me time” (hahaha), pay the bills, keep things organized?? There aren’t enough hours in the week. Oh yeah.. and I should probably take a shower in there somewhere.. I’m tired.
Today had good and bad moments, like all days, but those bad moments sure did beat the crap out of me today. She went to bed knowing she is safe and loved, and I know that’s all that matters. But, I’d so like to do better at the in between stuff too. I’d like to set a better example of how to react to things. I’d like to show her love and grace better. I’d also like to pee in peace and have a nap. Mama life is hard sometimes. Okay, all the time. But the (rare) hugs and kisses make it worth it. The joy on her face when she does something she likes to do is worth it. The wisdom in her tiny little head is worth it. And the hours upon hours we spend reading books is worth it. She is so worth it.
Also, my husband is amazing and supports me in every way possible. He helps with the dishes, does most of the cooking, comes home and plays with our daughter while I finish up work. He is so helpful and I couldn’t do this crazy life without him ❤
On a completely unrelated and shallow note, my bed is a mess (see photo) and it needs help. I think the price of throw pillows is outrageous, and my husband doesn’t really understand the purpose of them. To him, they are just something that he has to take off before getting in the bed. But, you all, I want our bedroom, especially our bed, to be cozier and more inviting. Any tips?

Worthy of grace.

And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work.
2 Corinthians 9:8

Grace. Do we really believe that we are worthy of it? Every moment we have is another second of God’s grace. Every breath we breathe is a gift of grace from our Creator. First of all, the verse above hits home, because it really boils down to the fact that God gives us grace so that we can have what we need and then give the rest away. He gives us what we need and then some. Am I accepting that grace and then sharing it with others or just stuck on the fact that I don’t deserve it? I’ve been working on showing grace to others as part of living out a better example of love, but I can’t show others grace if I don’t fully appreciate my own. God spoke to me this morning about someone else I’ve been forgetting to extend grace to: myself. I’m my harshest critic; I’d say that’s true for a lot of people. I have very high expectations for myself, but very low motivation most of the time. That usually results in some major self-loathing. It’s not pretty, and it’s not what God wants for me.
For as long as I can remember, I’ve been on the wrong side of the fine line between humility and self-deprecating. It hurts my heart to know that seven year old me wrote in her journals about how ugly she was because she had moles, and how disgusting she was because she had an accident at school. I saw myself as disgusting. And I still do sometimes. The world teaches us to be really good at nit picking our flaws, because it’s easier to sell us a product to fix them if we are already obsessing over them. It’s scary how early this seeps into our daily thinking. When I worked at the daycare (have I mentioned this before? I worked at a daycare for eight years), I saw young kids worried about eating too much or that they wore a bigger size than their friends; I saw little faces already convinced that they needed makeup to look pretty; I saw fat-shaming and name calling and pure ugliness in these kids sometimes. I’ve also known young people whose parents have offered to pay for plastic surgery for their child because of a superficial flaw that the parent saw. This world is a mess: we are selfish, we are vain, we are lustful, we are hateful, we are prideful. How in the world can we deserve grace? I’ll let you in on a little secret – we don’t. But God gives it to us anyway. And not only that, He uses our sins to point others to His glory.
The other morning, baby girl and I read the story of Moses and the burning bush in her Bible story book. At the end of the story, it said something like, “Moses was special to God, you are special to Him too.” My sweet three year old looked up from her breakfast at me and said, “Mama, but I’m not special to God because sometimes I’m mean.” Oh my heart. That about killed me. I talked to her about how God loves us even when we are mean and hard to love. I told her that was called grace, and that’s why God is so good to us. No one else could love us like that. You all, a THREE YEAR OLD saw that she wasn’t worthy of God’s love. Why does it take adults so long to get it?

Now the law came in to increase the trespass, but where sin increased, grace abounded all the more…
Romans 5:20

Being convicted of our sins is painful, even my tiny girl saw a glimpse of that. God’s law is there to show us when we’re not living the way we’ve been called to live. We are supposed to feel the guilt and shame, but only so we can see the grace that is extended to us. We aren’t supposed to wallow in it, we aren’t made to live in that state of mind. But without first seeing why we need grace, the gift wouldn’t mean anything to us. I love when I see the word “but” in the bible, it usually means God is about to show up in a big way and do something only He can do. No one else, ever, could show us the grace and mercy and love that God shows us. No one could even come close. But we are called to try, to strive to love each other like sweet Jesus loves us.
Last summer, I decided to do something about my less than healthy lifestyle. I started out by walking around the block with my mom and daughter, then slowly worked in some intermittent jogging. By the fall, I could run/ jog all the way around our neighborhood once. It is only a half mile, but I got to where I could go around twice and not want to pass out. I’ve NEVER been a runner. I can’t breathe correctly when I run, and my lungs feel like they are on fire. I hurt my knee at some point and had to stick to walking for a few weeks, but I stuck with it. I was so proud of the discipline I had about it – I ran 4-5 times a week. Now, I didn’t eat any better than I ever had, I might have even eaten worse, so I wasn’t losing any weight, but I could tell I was toning myself. My clothes fit differently and my posture was better. I had more energy. I felt better. Then Thanksgiving came along and we didn’t go as often. Then December came and there were colder days and Christmas candy and goodies and I didn’t go at all. Now here we are in February and I’m pretty sure it’s been like two months since I’ve been out to run. And… I’ve been eating my feelings. A lot. I’ve gained like eleven pounds. And I was already heavier than I had been in several years. I now weigh the same as I did when I was nine months pregnant with my daughter, and it makes me feel awful. I feel huge. But I have to give myself grace. 2020 was hard on everyone, and our family was put through the ringer. Life is weird, change is hard, and we’re all just trying to cope. I’m not saying that this is the way it always needs to be, because it’s not. If I continue living the way I am, it will become downright unhealthy. But, I have to give myself grace. I can’t beat myself up over the way I look right now. What I can do is recognize that this isn’t sustainable, take that grace I so often forget I can have, and use it as motivation to do better. The last thing I want to do is let my daughter think it’s okay to put herself down. I don’t ever want to set that example. What I do want her to realize is that we all struggle sometimes, and that’s okay. We’re all a little mean sometimes, but we are still special to God and He loves us anyway. So, that’s why we keep trying, pushing, striving to do better. Because we are given grace.

Pursue love.

These are a few of my journal entries from the past week, and when I put them all together it was obvious that God was speaking love into my heart; not just that He loves me, but that I need to love others in that same way.

By this, all people will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another.

John 13:35

I know I visit this verse a lot, but I feel like it is so very important – especially in the divided world we live in. In his bible study on this verse, Jim asked us to think about how we relate to each other. When we meet someone new, a common question is, “what do you do?” and we usually answer that in regards to our work. But why do we do that? For most people, our work is a very small part of our identity. He points out that unless we wear a uniform or name tag, it’s impossible to tell for sure what kind of job we have without asking. My favorite thing he said was, “Our love for others should be as noticeable as a name tag or a uniform.” Yeah.
I’m convicted by this. What in the world does this kind of love look like? How could people see that? But then I’m reminded that Jesus already showed us what it looked like. He was our example. He tells us to love each other as He loves us. He tells us to be patient, kind, not boastful, envious, arrogant, or rude. (See 1 Corinthians 13:4-8.) We all need that reminder.
1 Corinthians 14:1 says, “Pursue love, and earnestly desire the spiritual gifts, especially that you may prophesy.” The prophesy part is another spiritual realization for another day, but these words: PURSUE LOVE, they are it. If we want to be close to God, we need to pursue love. God is love. The closer we get to Him, the easier it will be to love.


This is my motto for this week. I want to do better at living out the definition of love; and not just seeking God and His love, but pursuing it, chasing after Him daily with my whole heart.

Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast, it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrongdoing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, endures all things.

1 Corinthians 13:4-8

This is one of the most famous passages in the bible – “the love passage,” that is frequently read at weddings. As I was reading it in reference to my last entry, I was convicted – more than that, God spoke directly to my heart. It got me thinking: we are called to follow Jesus’ example; Jesus is God; God is love… see where I’m going with this? There’s no denying that, as Christians, our goal is to strive to be an embodiment of the love described in this passage; and not just in romantic relationships, but ALL relationships, especially our relationships with other Christians. Then I had another thought – no wonder the world doesn’t like us. We mess this up A LOT, and we look like hypocrites. In the past year, we’ve let politics and a pandemic and other worldly things divide us. We’ve been downright ugly. Why would anybody want to follow Jesus if this is what it looks like?
It’s funny how something strikes me in application to people or Christians as a whole at first, but God always ends up pointing me in the direction of my own heart. Yeah, collectively, Christians have issues, but the solution starts in each individual’s heart. In my heart.
I don’t think it’s a coincidence that “patient and kind” are the first two virtues listed. I had a serious heart-to-heart with myself over this. My patience? Needs A LOT of work. My kindness? It’s usually conditional and rooted in convenience. I started thinking about all the instances throughout any given day that I have a chance to practice my patience: with my daughter (that feels like every second of every day), with my bosses, with myself, with my expectations, with people on social media, with my waiting on God to move. I decided the other day that Ineeded to be a better living example of this passage to my daughter especially – it’s vital, important work that God has given me to do. And don’t you know that as soon as I comitted to this, satan started working through my tiny girl to absolutely tear me apart. For like a day and a half I was miserable. I had lost my temper more times than I could count, I had yelled, I had overreacted. Last night after having to go back in her room at bedtime for the millionth time, I came out and just cried. I felt like a big failure. Then I opened my bible and dove into this “love passage.” God doesn’t tell us that living like this will be easy, but it’s so important.
And while we’re talking about things I need to work on, it mentions that love is not irritable… yeah, I allow myself to get irritated at the smallest things. I get irritated with other people – especially on social media. I think I need a refresher course in the whole “slow to anger” thing.
Also, as I read, I thought, “okay, I’m not resentful, moving on!” But the truth is, I am resentful. There are certain people that I feel a certain way about just because of something they did or said, even a long time ago. I do really try to give people the benefit of the doubt, and I learned a long time ago that slapping forever labels on people because of one instance or one conversation is so dangerous. People change, people grow, just as I have. But I know I still have so much more growing to do in this department.
I guess the biggest question I have about all this is what does it actually look like to bear, believe, and endure all things? Enduring is the easiest concept for me to understand – loving even though it’s hard, loving forever. And I guess bearing all things means helping each other carry whatever we are going through, no matter how hard. Okay, so, love believes all things. What does that mean? It seems so vague. We believe all God’s promises in regards to another person? We believe in the other person and never give up on them? Hmmm. I guess I need to think about what Jesus believes in regards to us: He believes we are worthy of love and salvation. He believes in giving us free will so that we can choose to love Him on our own. He believes that we are worthy of the responsibility of being His hands and feet.

So after diving deeper into “the love passage”, the next day, I saw it again. One of my favorite bloggers to follow, Amy Weatherly, posted the same passage with a very similar sentiment. I thanked her for the spiritual reinforcement. I don’t know her, and she probably has absolutely no idea who I am, but God used her to speak to me, to remind me of this week’s pursuit of love. Then today, someone on my Facebook posted a verse from this passage. I instantly stopped scrolling and knew that I was seeing exactly what I needed to see. I have a feeling that this pursuit of love is not just going to be this week’s theme. God seems to give me “themes”to work on in every season. Over the last few years He’s given me trust, faith, focus, and goodness to work on, just to name a few. I think this is going to be one of the big ones. I pray that my mind and heart are ready to receive the instruction He’s giving me. I pray that I go into the upcoming week with these instructions on my heart.

Hope.

May the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in believing, so that by the power of the Holy Spirit you may abound in hope.
Romans 15:13


This verse is in a section of my Bible titled, “Jesus, the hope of Jews and Gentiles.” Jesus is the hope for EVERYONE.
How do we, in a world full of hate and sickness and pride, have hope? I like how this verse specifies that it is by the power of the Holy Spirit, because our human selves surely can’t do it on our own. It’s so easy to look around and see all the broken, hurting people in this world and get discouraged. It’s so easy to dismiss everything, throw our hands into the air, and say, “Well, the world has gone to pot!” and sit here waiting for Jesus to return. But, that’s the part that stirs me – we can’t hunker down just yet. God hasn’t given up on us, so we can’t give up on others. What are we doing about the hurt around us? Placing blame? Being apathetic? Pretending it doesn’t exist? Just “minding our own business”? As Christians, we are called to do much more: Go, make disciples, feed the hungry, clothe the needy, fight for those who can’t stand up for themselves, comfort the brokenhearted, teach, build up, and so much more. We can’t do that if we’re over in a corner pouting about the state of the world.

The definition of Hope: “To cherish or desire with anticipation; trust; to desire with expectation of obtainment or fulfillment.”
There’s a difference between worldly hope and the kind of hope God offers. One is wishful thinking and the other is trust. I can hope as hard as I want that it snows tomorrow, but ultimately the weather is going to do what it does. But, if I have hope in God’s promises, He is always faithful to fulfill them. I can wait in expecation; it’s a sure thing.That’s how we can have joy and peace, and why nothing of this world can satisfy us.
How do we abound in hope? To me, that means we receive the hope we need in God through Jesus’ work on the cross and through the Holy Spirit in us. But it doesn’t stop there. Then we spread that hope to others by being Jesus’ hands and feet, by being a city on a hill. I feel like we can only truly abound in hope when we are sharing it with others.
Admittedly, I have not been back to church since the pandemic started. I have really been trying to keep my family safe, but I’ve also just not been in a good mental state to go. My life was turned upside down in March (my family suffered a great loss), and I still haven’t been able to wrap my head around being back around so many people. I had a full blown anxiety attack outside of the grocery store the other night that resulted in me freaking out and throwing my face mask into the back of my husband’s truck. Mentally, I’m not doing great. My husband has continued to go to church, and the other day I asked him what our church was doing as far as outreach during this time. His response broke my heart, “Nothing really.” Now, don’t get me wrong, our church does do some great things for our community, including gathering food for baskets for families that need extra help at Christmas, and they have an ongoing relationship with several outside ministries. BUT, we are in a pandemic. Needs have been so much greater lately. People who are stuck at home for health reasons or whatever need the church to come to them. And I’ve seen other churches stepping up to fill that need, and other needs as well. But some aren’t so much. And that hurts my heart. I have prayed for God to lead me where I need to go, and show me how to help.

Side note, this is the first blog post typed on my new tablet with my new keyboard my husband got me for Christmas. Yay!

Year.

I’ve been trying to figure out what to write about, I haven’t posted anything to my blog since early November. For some reason, I just don’t have the words right now. I’ve been trying to live in the moment, even if these are not the moments I pictured myself having this year. I know this year has taken a toll on everyone’s souls. I know everyone feels heavy. And I’d like to say good riddance to this year as much as anybody out there. But, I can’t help but think that a number on the calendar is not going to change anything. Yes, we will be entering another year, but what will change from the last day of 2020 to the first day of 2021? What will change literally overnight? Nothing really. Just some number that we assigned to a specific amount of time. Maybe it’s a refresh that we need mentally. Maybe I’ll feel better than I think I will. But, one thing is constant and I’m so very thankful – God’s love for us never changes.

How precious is your steadfast love, O God! The children of mankind take refuge in the shadow of your wings. They feast on the abundance of your house, and you give them drink from the river of your delights. For with you is the fountain of life; in your light do we see light.
Psalm 36:7-9

Ugh. It’s been almost two weeks since I went to God’s word and wrote in my journal, and probably even longer since I actually talked to God. I don’t know what my deal is – this whole year has been a spiritual struggle. I think that’s why I was drawn to this passage as I read today.

I looked up the word steadfast: “resolutely or dutifully firm and unwavering,” “not subject to change,” “loyal,” “firmly fixed in place; immovable.” That describes God’s love for us. It is PRECIOUS. And the fact that time and time again I let distractions, lies, and apathy make me look away from this perfect love – that makes me angry. I’m angry at satan for attacking me, but that’s just what he does. I’m even more angry at myself for falling for the same old things over and over again; I’m mad at myself for not being steadfast, even when God is. I’m angry that I can’t stay focused enough on His perfect love to fully appreciate it. Thank God that His love is perfected in my weakness, because man am I weak.
God gives us everything we need and then more because he loves us. I love my daughter and I want to show her that love. Sure, I could cater to her basic physical and emotional needs and she would be fine. But, I want to love her abundantly. I want her to know that I would do anything for her. I want to make life beautiful for her. And that’s exactly what God wants for us. He gives us food, shelter, clothing, sure, but He wants us to live and love abundantly too. He didn’t have to give us the amazing amount of flavors and textures of food for us to subsist. He didn’t have to make colors or seasons or different hair types for us to live. But He did those things because He wanted us to see His beauty, His love for us. But, if we lose our focus, it’s easy to overlook these things, these “everyday miracles.” Only when we seek Him can we fully recognize His beauty.

In other “news,” if you’ve been following my blog, you know that a while back I put out into the world that I had been feeling kind of creative, but apprehensive about getting started. My sweetheart of a husband is the best. For Christmas, he got me a new sketchbook with pens and a tablet with a stylus. I made the pink graphic above using an app on my tablet and transferring my handwriting from there into an image I created on Canva.com. I’m excited to see what else I can do with my new toys. I’ve drawn more in the last few days than I have probably in my whole life.

Real.

I wrote this a few nights ago with the intention of posting, but I had a horrible headache went to bed instead. I still thought it needed to be shared.

Last night, I posted some pictures on Facebook with the caption “perfect night.” I was going to post this one on Instagram with a similar caption, but my app crashed and I forgot about it until much later.

Last night was really good. Our little family took a walk together, the weather was amazing, the sunset was gorgeous, my husband built a fire in the fire pit, we had s’mores, and did some sparklers leftover from the 4th of July just because. We came in, did all the bedtime things with baby girl, got her to sleep, and my husband and I watched an entire movie in one sitting – something that rarely happens anymore. Those are the kinds of things that most people post about on social media.

Gorgeous sunset!

I started this blog because I wanted to be real with you all. I wanted to put not only the good, but the bad and ugly of our life out there as well so that someone else wouldn’t feel so alone. No one’s life is as picture perfect as they put on social media, so don’t you dare for a minute think it is. What I didn’t post about was the fact that our daughter has been in trouble off and on all week, has had THE WORST time transitioning from pooping in diapers to in the potty, had slept poorly the night before, and didn’t take her usual nap at all yesterday.

My daughter woke up with a blood curdling scream last night as my husband and I were going to bed that scared me to death. She had been a little fussy when I laid her down, complaining that she wanted to cuddle me more even though we had already had her cuddle time. But, she didn’t fuss long and went to sleep. But, it was like she woke up, remembered she was mad, and just got madder. Our kid sometimes. She scares me with the anger that is in her tiny body. She screamed and clung to me for what felt like a half an hour before I realized that she wasn’t in fact hurt or sick, just plain mad. I tried so hard to be patient and reassuring, and I was the first ten times she screamed in my face, whined, kicked, and screamed. But, at some point, I lost it. I yelled back, she pushed me, and I swatted her bottom. I held her so tightly, trying to physically contain all the anger in her body. And then I felt awful for losing my temper. She’s so well-spoken and smart that I forget she’s not even three years old yet. I forget that she’s feeling big emotions and does not know how to control them yet. I forget that she doesn’t know how to react the way I am expecting her to. I started crying and couldn’t stop then- like awful, ugly cry sobs. She kind of calmed down and asked if I was okay. We talked about how when she acts like that, it upsets mama. I apologized to her for losing my temper, she told me she loved me and I reassured her that I loved her too. She calmed down and agreed to lay back down. I still think she thought it was almost time to get up, because she said, “I will go back to sleep for a few minutes until daddy’s alarm goes off.” She slept until 7 this morning, though, so whatever. Today brought more complete meltdowns and timeout. But, she did take a nap and then pooped in the potty. After that, it was like a new kid. I know things are weird and it’s really messing with her. The time change really threw her off too. Even though we tried to adjust her gradually that week before, she is still freaked out about it getting dark before she lays down now. She always says, “I’m staying up too late!” when the sun starts setting. I know she’s just two… I just forget sometimes.

So, the perfect, tiny glimpse of life I posted on Facebook was just that, a tiny piece of what had actually been going on in our lives. You all, nobody’s life is picture perfect all the time. Everybody’s life looks like a crazy mess, most people just don’t usually choose to share that part. I try so hard to remember this – to remember that I have no idea what’s going on in others’ lives. All I know is what they choose to share.

Inspired.

I’ve been feeling the urge to try and do some creative, artsy things lately. Being inspired by others is definitely something I didn’t expect to happen [because I’m generally uninspired, not because there isn’t an abundance of super inspirational people out there], but it’s what’s been the driving force of my creativity these days. Granted, almost all of this creativity is alleged, because it’s still in my head at the moment. I need a kick in the rear to motivate me to do just about anything.

I love Instagram mostly for one reason: I can control what I see. I only follow accounts that are going to inspire and uplift me, and I pass on everything else. I follow a lot of food-related accounts: chefs, restaurants, home bakers, and people who, like me, just like to eat food. Is being a patron of the culinary arts a thing? If so, I totally am. I also follow a lot of people who love what they do, and I’m so inspired by that. I want to love what I do and use it for the glory of God. I want to use my gifts in new, scary ways. (By the way, this is right now, sudden burst of creativity me speaking. In probably exactly ten minutes I will be utterly terrified by what I just typed out.) I want to create beautiful things and inspire others to do the same.

When I became a mom almost three years ago (!) I struggled with identity. I was so engrossed in breastfeeding and changing diapers and listening to every sound and watching every breath, that I literally could not remember who I was or what I liked to do. I would lay on the couch at night after baby girl was in bed and just stare. I wanted to do something, but nothing sounded enjoyable. Looking back, I think I probably had a bit of PPD going on, but at the time it was just how it was. I remember having a breakthrough moment where it just clicked that I needed to seek out who I was in Christ first, and that the rest would come later. That helped so much. Putting my focus back on God was how I eventually felt like myself again. Well, sort of myself. Bits of my old self came back and mixed with my new motherhood and made me into who I am today. Life is so weird. And beautiful.

When I was in high school and college, I made a lot of collages and did a lot of scrapbooking. I loved it. I know those activities probably date me, but I truly did enjoy it. To this day, the [small] graphic design element of my job is my favorite part. I always say I just “know what looks good and what doesn’t” Never having gone to school for any of that (French major over here…🙋‍♀️), I couldn’t even begin to explain even the basics of design. I know the rule of thirds, but that’s about it. That’s a thing, right?

Anyway, the other night, I just had the strongest urge to draw. I haven’t drawn anything in like, two decades probably. I don’t have a sketch pad, and it was like 10:30 PM and I didn’t want to go digging around in my desk for some paper. So I grabbed my bible journal with the intention of doodling in there, but I just wasn’t feeling it. [Side note: is anyone else out there like ridiculously picky about their journals? I love the cover of the one I have right now, but it isn’t spiral bound and it just makes me unreasonably angry to try to use it sometimes. I hate having to fight with it to make it stay open while I’m writing. Plus, there’s like this whole inch column down every other page that I just can’t quite get my pen in there to write… ugh. It’s a first world problem, for sure.] I remembered that you could draw on the note app on my phone and decided to give it a whirl. These particular words came to mind as soon as I sat down to doodle. It took me forever to get a version I like enough, and it’s still not perfect at all. My phone needs a stylus – finger writing on a screen just isn’t the same.

My husband and I need so many prayers of encouragement at the moment. I feel like God is moving in our hearts and leading us to something big and scary. If you all don’t know my husband a) you should, because he is the sweetest human being on the planet, and b) he is good at pretty much everything. Okay, not everything, but A LOT of things. He taught himself the bass, guitar (he plays this crazy good), piano, and drums. I always tease him that he can listen to a song once and instantly know how to play it on guitar (and that’s only exaggerating a little.) He is excellent at woodworking, plus he LOVES it. He was going to school for drafting and loved that. I’m telling you, anything he tries to do, he learns it quickly and well. Our pastor’s wife is in on this joke and commented on the pumpkin he painted a few weeks ago with perfectly straight free-handed triangles. I mean, seriously, he even paints pumpkins well. Anyway, there are so many things he is good at that I just know he knows how to do for a reason. I’m not speaking any specific idea out loud yet, because I don’t want to limit what God has in store for us. But, I’m almost certain we were meant to work together somehow, owning our own business. Prayers for boldness and discernment for that would be greatly appreciated.

A guitar that hubby has made, the infamous perfect pumpkin, and a baby play gym that I mentioned liking and he whipped one up in a few evenings (he even made the wooden rings!) This guy is ridiculous.

Anyway, this whole tangent started because I said I was feeling creative. So, here’s me, putting that out into the world. I pray that I can continue to be inspired, and that it will lead to something amazing!

Daily.

I wrote these two entries a week and a day apart: last Friday and today.

And He said to all, “If anyone would come after me, let him deny himself and take up his cross daily and follow me. For whoever would save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.”

Luke 9:23 & 24

I’ve read this a million times, but the other night as I was cuddling baby girl at bedtime, this verse came to mind because of that word “daily.” I haven’t been doing anything daily when it comes to God, except praying with baby girl every night before bed. I haven’t been talking to God and I haven’t been going to Him for strength. I haven’t been filling my heart with His word. I haven’t been heaven-focused. In fact, I’ve been actively avoiding God, and seriously neglecting my spiritual health.

There’s a lot of hurt surrounding our world, our country, my community, and specifically my family at the moment. I’ve mentally curled up in a ball and checked out instead of turning to the One who can heal all wounds.

I’ve always known that living for God is not the easy way to live, but lately I’ve learned just how hard it can be. I’ve learned that satan will try anything and everything to steal your joy, and I’ve let him. But I WILL NOT let it keep me away from my God forever. I am recommitting myself to the Lord. RIGHT NOW. I will turn to Him daily for strength, courage, and peace.

Therefore say to them, “Thus declares the Lord of hosts: Return to me, says the Lord of hosts, and I will return to you, says the Lord of hosts.”

Zechariah 1:3

You all, I’m struggling. I’m grasping, I’m barely clinging to hope, to joy, to peace. I opened my journal, saw the words I had written over a week ago, and immediately felt ashamed. My “recommitment” to God lasted all of an hour or so, and then I promptly allowed Satan to distract me again. I haven’t opened God’s word in over a week. Still, as the feeling of guilt and shame washed over me, a small voice spoke forgiveness and grace. I said a half-hearted prayer for encouragement and opened my bible looking for hope. The passage that includes this verse was the first thing I saw ♡♡♡

I am so humbled and thankful that the “Lord of hosts,” the Creator of all, who is higher and stronger and more powerful than I can ever imagine, still promises to turn back to me after I’ve repeatedly turned my back on Him. The love and grace He shows me is unfathomable. The forgiveness He gives me over and over and over yet again can only be described as divine, because it makes absolutely no sense through a worldly lense. I don’t deserve it for a second. One of my favorite songs right now is a new one by Needtobreathe called Who Am I. Oh, my goodness, the lyrics:

While I’m on this road you take my hand

Somehow you really love who I really am

I push you away, still you won’t let go

You grow your roses on my barren soul

Who am I… to be loved by you.

Seriously, the whole song is just fantastic, but these particular lyrics get me every time. WHO AM I? I’m nobody. I’m flawed, I’m selfish, and I’m prone to making the same mistakes over and over again. I’m a mess, but He loves me anyway. He sent His son to earth not only to die for me (which is complete madness), but also to understand what it’s like to be human. Jesus knew physical hunger and thirst, he experienced emotions like fondness and sadness and even anger. He had family and friends. Anything we go through, He’s been there and conquered that and understands exactly how we feel. How amazing is that?