False feelings.

There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus.

Romans 8:1

Without realizing it, I wrote about this verse twice in a month period and only realized it several days after I wrote the second one. When God puts something in front of you, sometimes it’s really obvious.

Jim said something in his devotion that really struck a chord with me: “we are attacked by guilt, shame, judgement from others, and temptations all day long and rather than see the price paid [by Jesus] we see new charges.” When my focus is on my sin, that’s all I’m going to see. When my focus is on Jesus, I will see the victory over my sin that I have in Him. For some reason I get stuck in a frame of mind where I believe that my past sins are forgiven, but these new ones I have to work out on my own. But Jesus died for ALL of our sins – past, present, future. Just because I’m found in Him doesn’t mean I won’t sin anymore, it just means that He has already forgiven that sin. I just have to accept it.

This concept is very hard for me to wrap my head around most of the time. Jesus tells me that I’m holy and righteous, but satan keeps pointing out my sin and shame and I don’t feel very holy or righteous. I think what I need to do is claim it anyway. My feelings don’t even begin to compare to God’s truth. My emotions are human and can’t be trusted. What can be trusted? Jesus’ word and love for me.

I seriously need this reminder every day.

This was a supporting verse in Jim’s devotion today, but it hit home. He was talking about how all God asks us to do is keep His commandments – it sounds easy, but we’re sinners and we mess it up. Jim said something that pierced my heart: “Let’s focus on the pursuit [of God] and not the failures.” God convicts me all the time. He shows me things I could do better or things that I’m not doing that He’s directly calling me to do. He allows me to feel convicted to remind me that I need Him. But, I have a tendency to recognize my sin, ask God for forgiveness, and then hold it over my own head for forever, beating myself up along the way. I’m keeping my focus on the failures instead of the pursuit.

I often say that I don’t feel forgiven, redeemed, righteous, or any of the wonderful things God says I am. The thing is, it’s not because of anything God has done – His promises remain true, always. My feelings are just that – feelings. They are from my human heart and mind – places that satan just loves to creep into. I let him whisper reminders of my failures, and I listen, using them as an excuse to say, “Why bother?” I use them as proof that I’ll never live up, so I don’t even try. I CHOOSE to focus on my failures. Why do I do that?!

I think I would “feel” more forgiven if I cut myself some slack. I have to remember that everyone screws up because we’re all human. That’s exactly why we need Jesus… God knew we would mess it up. But the beautiful part is that He loves us anyway; He offers forgiveness anyway. I have to cling to who God says I am and not what I feel.

So, yeah. God has really been showing me that I can’t trust my feelings, as evidenced by that horrible anxious/ depressive episode I had a few weeks back. My mind is a dangerous place, because it’s only full of what I put in there. I want to be so full of God’s word and promises that there’s no room for doubt or temptation or shame. I want my heart to be so full of His love for me that I can’t help but feel joy ALL THE TIME. I’m so much closer to this than I was even a few years ago, but man, I’ve still got some work to do. Satan still gets wedged in there sometimes, and I willingly move some things around to give him some room.

Me.

I haven’t written anything (besides my bible journal) in a while. I guess my recent anxiety is trying to hold on, because I just haven’t really felt like writing. I started typing out something similar to this the other night and got distracted. I just looked for it, and it was nowhere to be found – my phone deleted it. In talking with the husband, he pointed out that someone (ahem, satan) doesn’t want me writing. I’ve had an excuse why I shouldn’t or don’t want to the last several times I have sat down to do it. I was talking to him just now about it, waved my arms around (as I often do while talking… what can I say? I’m animated) and completely tossed my phone across the room as a loud, thunderous echo resounded through the house and down the hall to where I’m sure my sleeping toddler could hear. I literally started crying. A) because that proved right what he had just said… there have been so many distractions and emotional setbacks over the past few weeks that have prevented me from writing, and B) because I was stinking embarrassed. I’m a spaz, and I’ll be the first to admit it, but GOOD GRIEF. So, I guess I’ll just write. Whether I know what I’m going to say or not, whether I think it’s good or not. I’ve got to start again somewhere.

For those of you following my health, some new things have happened. Keep in mind: I am thirty one years old. I finally visited a primary care physician for the first time in my adult life. My blood pressure during my visit was through the roof, and the nurse practitioner I saw didn’t like it at all. We discussed a few options, and landed on a low dose of beta blockers. She said that not only would it help my blood pressure, but also my anxiety and migraines. So, I’ve been taking those for about a week and a half, and I have been checking my own blood pressure at home at least once a day. I’ve been told that I have white coat syndrome before, and I know that is a lot of why my blood pressure is high when I go to the doctor. I get so worked up about it… I even freak out using the machine at the grocery store. I don’t know what my problem is… I told my mom the other day that it hurts my arm, and I think that is part of the reason I get so upset – because I’m anticipating the pain. She said that it doesn’t hurt her, but that my granny used to always say the same thing – that it hurt. So, I’ve been taking it a lot lately, trying to desensitize myself to the cuff. The other day, I took it five times in a row because it was a little higher than it had been at first. I got it down substantially just by doing it over and over again – it literally went down a little every time. So, that’s where I am… constantly being aware of my heart rate and taking a “grandma dose” of blood pressure medication, as my nurse practitioner called it. I’m going to get labs done to recheck my cholesterol (fasting this time) and some other things this week. Then I will go back for a more comprehensive physical at the end of the month. It’s been so long since I have seen a doctor, I have a huge list of concerns… she’ll probably think I’m a hypochondriac. And she’ll probably be right. Everytime I have a random pain in my arms or legs, I pretty much convince myself that it’s a blood clot or that I’m getting ready to have a stroke. Yeah, that definitely helps my anxiety… The other night, I had sharp pains from my rib cage, up into my chest, and down my arm. I was pretty convinced I was having a heart attack. Then the husband pushed on my stomach, I let out a huge belch, everything shifted a little, and I realized it was probably just a gas bubble pressing on a nerve or something. Ugh.

Some other random thoughts:

Baby girl’s favorite word is “no” at the moment and she will disagree with whatever you say, it doesn’t matter what it is. She liked Halloween, but a boy in one of those blow-up dinosaur costumes really made her day. She keeps talking about it whenever anybody asks her about Halloween, and the last two nights, we’ve thanked God for dinosaurs in our prayers. She kills me. She’s also been very clingy the last few days. And as much as l love to hear her say, “cuddle mama,” I do have a job that I sort of have to do some of the time. It killed me this past week when I was working, and she kept coming over to my desk and saying, “mama play with you [me]?” How can I say no to that? How do work at home parents get work done? My job is only part time, and my new normal the last few weeks has been finishing up my work after she goes to bed (which, by the way, annoyingly cuts into husband time). Balance is hard. I feel guilty when I’m actually productive for work, because that usually means that baby girl has been left to entertain herself for hours, or has been dragged all over creation with me in the car. I also feel guilty when I spend the day with her, because I feel like I’m not contributing enough financially to our family. Mom guilt is rough.

A screen shot of a typical time sheet for me. Clocked in 12 hours, only worked less than five. A lot of times, it’s even less.

Baby girl and I have gotten back to taking morning walks. I love getting to spend the time with her, starting our day exploring outside, and getting in a small workout for me. Twice around our neighborhood is about a mile, and I know that’s not much. But, out of shape me works up a sweat and gets a couple thousand steps in. I figure that’s better than nothing.

Love our morning walks, even if we have to bundle up quite a bit now that the weather is chillier.

Well, now that I’ve broken the ice again, maybe I’ll get back to writing more regularly. I don’t know what kind of writing funk I’m in, but it can go away now. I’ll probably post a bible journal entry or two next time. I have several earmarked that I felt were important to share.

Anxious.

You guys, I haven’t been okay lately. Last weekend in particular was straight up awful. My anxiety has been through the roof. I’m feeling a lot better now, but I still keep having feelings popping up that I have to squash quickly, otherwise, I’m feeling like I could quickly fall into that hole again. I haven’t felt anxiety like this in a LONG TIME. It’s so funny, because I had literally just written about the verse in Matthew that starts “do not be anxious…” on Thursday, and by Saturday I was a mess. The context of that verse was a bit different, but it was still that word, anxious. This past Wednesday I wrote this:

Say to those who have an anxious heart, “Be strong; fear not! Behold, your God will come with vengeance, with the recompense of God, He will come and save you.”

Isaiah 35:4

This past weekend was terrible. Friday afternoon, the husband went with me to get an EKG. The whole thing only took about thirty minutes, and the nurse said that she didn’t see any irregularities (which was why I was sent there in the first place), just some palpitations (which I’ve been able to feel for years.) We went to eat afterwards, and the waitress recognized us from our high school. I felt really bad, because she didn’t look familiar to me at all. I also had a conversation in the bathroom with a lady about allergies. Friday night, as I thought about the day, I was thankful for the extra time I got to spend with my husband. I was even a little proud of myself for not freaking out too badly over my test, and even for the social interactions I had (I know that sounds a little ridiculous, but social interaction STRESSES ME OUT. Especially with people I don’t know.)

Saturday, baby girl woke up earlier than usual. I COULD NOT seem to wake up. I was so frustrated with the fact that it was so early, and I was frustrated with her whining. We walked into the kitchen and there were dishes all over the counter. I lost it; I started crying. Later that morning, we were at Lowe’s and after a series of ridiculously minuscule stressors I started crying again. The rest of the day I felt awful – stupid, useless, and unimportant.

I had hoped that Sunday would be better, but those feelings crept up again after church. Both Saturday and Sunday, I just sat on the couch for hours, feeling lost. To top it all off, I left my bible at church.

Monday, I felt terrible physically, then my head started hurting and continually got worse throughout the day. My gynecologist called and didn’t like my labs – my cholesterol was high, and my blood pressure had been high the day I went too. I was stressed about that. I ended up getting so very sick that night. It was the worst migraine I have had in a while. The husband offered to go get me ginger ale while I was sobbing in the bathroom floor, but I told him no. Later I admitted that I was terrified that he was going to get in a car wreck and die because he was running out for me, and that’s why I told him no. Yeah.. I told you, I was in a bad place.

Yesterday was MUCH better, but that anxious/depressive episode I had scared me. I haven’t felt that down in a long time. So, I finally have my bible back and I’m glad I found this verse. I forgot for a few days that I was worthy of rescuing.

I also wrote a detailed account of how I was feeling on Saturday, and I feel it’s important for you all to see that too – it’s just a small glimpse of what was going through my head. I often get stressed about little things, but I keep my anxiety in check most of the time. It doesn’t usually cripple me to the point where I literally just sit there not knowing how to process what I’m feeling.

Today was awful. I woke up around 5 AM, looked at the clock, and went back to sleep thinking that I had about 1.5 to 2 hours more to sleep. Baby girl fell asleep late last night, so I figured she would sleep in… I don’t know why, she never does. Just after 6 I heard her whining a bit, then she started crying. Last night, I had seriously contemplated waking up the husband this morning so I could sleep in, but when I heard her so early, I decided not to. She switched from crying for her daddy to mama, so I finally got up and went in there. She was trying to get out of the bed, so I picked her up and tried to cuddle her. She said she needed a diaper, so I changed it. The whole time she was on the changing table, she repeated, “eat,” over and over. I was so sleepy and couldn’t seem to wake up. After her diaper change, I took her and sat in the chair in her room. She had a small meltdown, and just kept saying, “up,” over and over and over again. I started whining like a child, telling her I just wanted to sit… not my proudest moment. She stopped fussing for a second, examined my face and then kind of tapped my chin, and said, “you need coffee.” If I hadn’t been so tired and if that hadn’t been such an incredibly true statement, I probably would have busted out laughing. Yes, yes I did need coffee. She went back to fussing, then finally added a desperate “please” onto one of her “up”s. I got up and carried her down the hallway (she has to be carried in the mornings, it’s just one of those things we do.) We walked into the kitchen, she’s saying “eat” on repeat again, and I look around and there is not a single spot of counter space open- there are literally dishes everywhere because we didn’t do the dishes last night. I lost it, I cried. Baby girl agreed to eggs for breakfast, with the promise of a doughnut after she finished them. I made her some, and while she was eating, I worked on the dishes that were causing me such anxiety. I was emptying the dishwasher and went to put one of my favorite mugs on the drying rack. I dropped it in the sink, it made an awful racket, and the handle broke off. I was trying so very hard to stay calm, but I was pretty upset.

Fast forward to later this morning, we were at Lowe’s. We got there at baby girl’s normal lunchtime, so I was a little stressed out over that. But, she was amazed at all the Halloween and Christmas decorations, we looked at countertops and kitchen cabinets, I thought I was fine. At one point she got in trouble for not holding my hand while walking through the store, and had to sit in the buggy. I diffused that situation with a squeeze pouch I found in my purse. We actually went to Lowe’s so the husband could buy some trim for baby girl’s room. There were no big carts in sight, and he went off to find one. All the sudden, I felt so alone. I was holding baby girl, who kept asking to go, “that way.” I finally let her walk around a bit, hoping it would tire her out because it was quickly creeping up on her nap time. The husband had to walk back out into the parking lot to find a cart, so he was taking forever. Our buggy didn’t have anything in it, and we walked down the aisle away from it. A man carrying several items passed us, browsed the same aisle for a minute, then slung all of his stuff into our empty buggy and kept looking. For some ridiculous reason, that upset me. It was our buggy, even though we didn’t need it. When the husband came back and started loading the wood for the trim, he asked if I still liked it (it has been a while since we decided on a look we liked.) I said that now that I was looking at it, I was a little worried that it might be too tall. He joked about it being a little late to change things, since he had already done the door casings. I felt so stupid for some reason, and started crying again.

When we got home, we put baby girl to bed, and I just sat on the couch. The husband played a game on the computer, and I just sat there. I finally turned on Fixer Upper, but I wasn’t really watching it. Not even that could cheer me up. I just had these awful feelings of uselessness, self-loathing, emptiness. I felt completely lost. Baby girl slept for over two and half hours and I just sat there the whole time. When she got up, we went outside to play, her daddy was working on the trim, and her granny came to visit. All that improved my mood quite a bit. The husband had brought in the totes with the fall clothes in them, and mom entertained baby girl while I worked on that some. I felt productive and a little better.

I don’t know where this sadness has come from – seemingly nowhere. I’m not quite sure really what I’m even sad about, but this is anxious depression like I’ve never felt. I’m quadruple guessing my every decision, I regret every word that comes out of my mouth, and I feel physically awful. This can go away now please.

I feel really exposed putting all that out there, but if it can help one person feel that they aren’t alone, then it’s so worth it. It has taken me over a week to gather all these words and articulate what I’ve been feeling, and I feel like I still haven’t hit it on the head. And, honestly, I’m really REALLY bad at articulating myself. I haven’t even told my husband all this yet, because the words in my head are all jumbled and don’t make any sense. If I had tried to explain it, I can guarentee you that I would have left feeling dumb again. I’ll let him read this first, before you all, haha.

I realized after I wrote all this out, that this was just one more thing in my life that I had a choice about. I could let my feelings overtake me and just get lost in my awful thoughts, or I could cling to God’s promise that He will rescue me and praise Him in the midst of it. I could feel sorry for myself, or I can use it to help others. I choose to do the latter.

More than food.

Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink, nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing?

Matthew 6:25

Background courtesy of our sunflower field excursion the other night. I can’t get enough of these pictures!

I guess life is more than food, although I REALLY enjoy it. All kidding aside – when Jesus tells me not to be anxious, I sit up and listen, because I am so very often anxious. I know I’ve done this verse before, and I know I have probably already said what I’m going to say somewhere before, because this verse always reminds me of a specific time in my life. When the husband and I were first married, we didn’t have a lot of extra money. In fact, it was super tight. We lived in an apartment downtown with original hardwood floors that we loved, but it was really probably out of our budget. We miraculously always had enough money for our bills, but not much else. There were times when I honestly can’t tell you where we found the money to buy the things we needed. There were times when I would find a restaurant gift card that I would have sworn that we already used. There were SO MANY times when our families helped out above and beyond what any family should do. Not once did we ever doubt that we would be okay. We KNEW God was taking care of us. There was no other way we could have gotten through it.

In his devotion today, Jim talked about focusing more on the spiritual. He said, “What do we spend more time thinking about? Does it make sense for us to be concerned about the things that serve us or the things that serve God?” Are we seeking first the kingdom or seeking to satisfy our stomachs?

To me, it all goes back to distractions. Yes, God provides for us, and that should be enough. But instead of being content with our blessings from Him, we let the world, satan, tell us that we need more and that we can get it ourselves.

I felt slightly convicted as I read this. Ever since the weather [finally] got cooler, I’ve been justifying to myself (if you don’t know me, just ask my husband… I can rationalize just about anything to death to justify it if I want to. He recently likened it to a superpower that I usually use for evil, haha) why I need new fall clothes: “I’ve had these shoes since 2005, this sweater is baggy on me now, I wore the same shirt twice in one week,” …the excuses go on and on. I keep telling myself that if I’m happier with the way that I look, I won’t be so distracted, I’ll be happier in general, I’ll be more motivated… and all these things may be true. BUT, I don’t necessarily think that my clothes need to change. Maybe, my attitude needs to change. Maybe, I need a more grateful, contented attitude that sees that I’m already taken care of physically, but more importantly, spiritually. How’s that for a thought?

The background to this one I took several years ago on my husband’s family farm. Just like old barns, we can choose to see our weathering as a blessing of life, or as a distraction, something that needs to be fixed up and painted to be worth anything.

Coffee.

Warning: slight mention of breasts ahead.

So this morning, I posted on Facebook about how I felt like I needed more coffee (which is pretty much my sentiment every morning.) This stinkin blog is called coffeemama. I’m kind of obsessed with coffee. I went to the lady doctor today (don’t worry, I’ll spare you the details) and left having had bloodwork done to check my thyroid and cholesterol, and a prescription for an EKG that I still have to go do.

She checked my breathing and heartbeat several times and then finally looked at me and asked, “has anyone ever told you that you have an irregular heartbeat?” I kind of smiled and said, “no, but I’m not surprised.” Heart issues run in my family… on both sides. Plus, I have felt my heart “flutter” many times before and sometimes it just starts beating really fast for no reason. Yeah, I figured. But the next question hurt my soul. “Do you drink caffeine?” Yes, yes I do. After recommending that I cut down a bit, she still ordered all sorts of tests to rule out serious issues. Before leaving, I mentioned that I have been having some breast pain, and wanted to make sure everything was okay with my breast exam. She assured me it was, and then added, “caffeine could cause that, too.” Ugh.

What happened between when I used to drink espresso and go right to bed and now, when coffee makes my boobs hurt? Years happened, I suppose. I was thinking about that the other day. I’ve traded in the late night café mocha of my high school days for an early evening cup of ginger probiotic tea. PROBIOTIC TEA. How old am I? My mind and my body sorely disagree on that subject.

Goodness.

You ever just keep seeing the same message over and over? For me, that message over the last week or so has been God’s goodness.

Even when life is crazy and I’m struggling to keep up, I can rest in God’s goodness. He is good to me, always, even when I have made myself too busy to see it. His love is sufficient. He has provided not only everything I need, but so much more.

I will feast the soul of the priests with abundance, and my people shall be satisfied with my goodness.

Jeremiah 31:14

Jim referenced a verse in Jeremiah the other day, and the whole passage and few chapters after caught my attention, and I thought I would read some more. These are God’s words to the people of Judah, who had not been living how God called them to, so He scattered them and punished them with famine and sickness, and allowed their enemies to overtake them. But even after all that, God still loved them and promised to gather and restore them.

I read a commentary on Jeremiah and it was talking about how this was a promise about Jesus and the Holy Spirit. Jesus set the example for us, and the Holy Spirit allows God’s will to dwell in us. I hadn’t thought about it that way before. I love how God lays the foundation of the New Testament in the Old Testament.

I had a couple of thoughts on this particular verse:

1) I think it is entirely reasonable to assume that God’s will for us is to be filled abundantly by Him as well, just as he promises. We can ask God to abundantly fill our souls with His joy, peace, life, and purpose so that we can share it with others as He calls us to do.

2) I want to be satisfied with His goodness. And again, that is His will for us, so if we pray for it, we better expect it. It doesn’t say that He satisfies us with His goodness, but that we are satisfied with His goodness. Our worldly satisfaction can never be met. The world will always tell us that we need more to be happy. But, being satisfied with God’s goodness means knowing that He is enough, that He is all we need and more. We don’t need anything else to be satisfied.

It’s so funny [wonderful] how God puts things in front of us that He wants us to see. The other day, my mom stayed with baby girl and I got to run a couple of errands by myself. [Who would have ever thought that’s something I would look forward to?! I used to HATE going places by myself.] I had downloaded some songs onto my phone that I liked and decided to listen to them while I was driving around. The Bethel song, “Goodness of God” came on, I turned it way up, and just belted. I’ve heard that song on the radio several times before, but having it cranked up in the car was different. I absolutely loved it. It spoke directly to me like it was written just for me. I told my husband later that night – I don’t care when, why, or where, but I NEED to sing that song. It was made for me. And, it has a guitar, so obviously he needs to play with me. It’s. My. Song.

Sufficient.

But He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in your weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly of my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ may rest upon me. For the sake of Christ, then, I am content with weaknesses, insults, hardships, persecutions, and calamities. For when I am weak, then I am strong.

2 Corinthians 12:9&10

Paul had a thorn in his side – we’re not sure what it actually was, but Paul himself admitted it was a blessing from God, something to keep him humble. But then he still asks God to take it away. Jim challenged us to think about if we ever do this – actually ask God to take away something unpleasant, even if we understand that He has a reason for giving it to us.

Most of the time, being molded by God is uncomfortable, even painful. I can honestly say that the hardest things I’ve gone through have shaped me into and prepared me for who I am today.

As I was writing the verses out, I thought about how there are certain aspects with my relationship with God that I just can’t seem to get a handle on. I tend to mess it up over and over again, and I fall for the same traps and distractions satan lays out over and over again. I get so frustrated with myself that I can’t seem to get it together. I beat myself up, ask for forgiveness (again), ask God to help me do better next time, only to be blindsided by satan once again. The seemingly ridiculous thing about all this? I can boast in my struggles, my iniquities, my many failures. Why? Because God’s grace is sufficient, because only when I’m weak can I get out of the way and let God show how strong He is.

It is my sincere hope that in blogging about my struggles I do exactly that – show the world how great God is and how much I need Him because I’m really not great.

Good things.

In going through my journal, I’m starting to see a new theme that God keeps putting in front of me. I’m still trying to find, process, and order everything, so here’s a short but sweet little journal entry for your Sunday night from this past Monday:

Finally, brothers, whatever is true, whatever is honorable, whatever is just, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is commendable, if there is any excellence, if there is anything worthy of praise, think about these things.

Philippians 4:8

I feel like this is pretty straightforward and doesn’t require a whole lot of contemplation. It’s simple – we are called to focus on the good things, the things from God. As I was writing this out, I had a thought: what if instead of looking for others’ mistakes and waiting for them to stumble just to point it out, as the world does, we looked for something good? What if we went out of our way to point out what someone is good at, what their talents are? What if we made a point to find something positive in whoever or whatever is in front of us? When we’re in that kind of mindset, I think it would be so much easier not only to see our own blessings, but also to be a blessing to someone else.

Vacation.

Here are some thoughts from the last few days as we ended our vacation…

It’s our last full day at the beach. I always build up things in my head, then get disappointed when they don’t turn out exactly how I had imagined. I feel like I’m constantly reminding myself that I’m blessed. We’ve packed so much fun and even MORE FOOD into this trip, but I had to come to terms with the fact that there are things I had planned to do that we simply ran out of time to do. Baby girl has to nap (she’s been taking really good 2 hour ones) pretty much right in the middle of the day, so that kind of limits plans sometimes. Also, she and I have gotten up pretty much every day sometime between 6 and 6:30 AM. Her daddy has been getting up an hour or so after that, then her granny and papaw about an hour or so after that, then her auntie sleeps in pretty late. Between the nap and a fairly early bedtime for our girl, it’s hard to squeeze everything into the few hours where everyone is awake.

We have done so much, though. We’ve eaten, and eaten, and eaten some more. We’ve been to the aquarium, where baby girl loved the sharks and her auntie bought her a mermaid. We’ve shopped and browsed. We’ve found a playground. We’ve floated and played in the pool. We’ve looked for and found shells on the beach. We’ve played in the ocean. We’ve taken pictures. It’s been fun.

Today we came home, and the drive was less than stellar. The first half was really good, but by about 5.5 hours in, someone was trying every trick in the book to get us to stop the car and let her out. A couple times, she legit pooped and we had to stop and change her (she would kindly ask, “change biper” after she screamed bloody murder trying to get her poop out.) The third time, however, was a false alarm, and we quickly realized that she just wanted to stop and get out of her carseat. She cried for a couple of hours off and on, only being satisfied when I twisted my arm like a pretzel and held her hand from the front seat. I did that for a solid hour until she finally fell asleep, and my arm was completely numb. It was miserable. During the middle of all that, however, the sunset was gorgeous as we were driving through the mountains, and I couldn’t help but be thankful: thankful for time with family, thankful for safe travels, thankful for the beautiful sky in front of me, and even thankful for being able to twist my arm uncomfortably to comfort my daughter. I told hubby at that moment that even though I was miserable, there was no place I would rather be and nothing I’d rather be doing. Wherever they are, that’s where I want to be. I adore my little family so very much, and I don’t want to take a second with them for granted.

Can we also talk about how amazing it feels to come home after a trip? The same house that felt cluttered, disorganized, and just blah when we left feels so very comfortable and homey and exactly what I like. I think it’s the quintessential wicker furniture and tacky beach decor in every beach condo out there, but our gray walls and wood floors always seem much more inviting after living in a pastel paradise for a week. (No offense to anyone who likes that, it’s just not my thing.) It’s what I’ve made it, and I like it. Sure, it still needs work, but I see its potential.

I can’t help but think about how God sees us the same. Hear me out: the fresh eyes I saw my house with that made me appreciate it more, made me see the good in it and overlook the bad? That’s how God sees us all the time (okay, so this analogy is loose, I realize that He does see our sin, but He is still so willing to forgive us when we repent.) He knows the best version of us. He sees what He created us to be, and doesn’t lose His vision for us when we fall short. That’s where this analogy unravels… while I needed a step back from the everyday to remember why I loved it. God doesn’t. He loves us the same as He did yesterday, today, and as He will tomorrow. Isn’t that amazing? He sees our potential and doesn’t lose sight of His plans for us, for me, even when I stray. I’m so thankful for that, and for the gentle reminders He gives me to see my life that way as well so that I can once again align myself with His will.

Summer? Fall?

I’m having some serious cognitive dissonance over here. It’s September, and in my cold-weather-loving mind, it’s (un)officially fall and I’m ready to break out all the fake leaves and pumpkins, amazing-smelling pumpkin candles, and my sweaters. However, it was 90 degrees here today and we’re going on a beach vacation soon. I can’t quite get my mind straight. [Over] half of me wants to just take off running toward pumpkin spice everything and never look back, but the other part of me is trying on bathing suits and packing a beach bag. I’m so lost and confused. As I’ve said before, I am not a summer girl. I’m so, so ready to say goodbye to it. But then, a beach vacation in the fall is just not seasonal. Ugh. I guess I have to hold off on pretending that fall is here until we get back. And, seriously, pretending is all I’m doing, because as I said, it was 90 here today. The weather I’m dreaming of won’t actually be here for at least another month, more realistically two.

[I’m going to show how incredibly weird I am, but does anyone else have a mental seasonal calendar in their head? Mine’s like a square. Fall (September, October, and November) is at the bottom, then Winter is on the right side (December, January, February), and so on, continuing counterclockwise, three months at a time. HOW STRANGE AM I?? Like, I literally picture this in my head every time I think about months or seasons. Maybe I’ll illustrate it one day so everyone else can have a glimpse of how weird I am.]

Picture from last year’s vacation. This hat was too big last year, now it doesn’t fit her head at all. So many changes.

I am, however, excited to go on vacation with baby girl. The beach is not my ideal vacation spot, but I will love watching her experience everything. We went last year, when she was about 7.5 months old. She loved it, but there was a hurricane and we got evacuated after only being there like a day and a half. Pray that there won’t be any hurricanes this year! Baby girl is so smart and expressive, and loves exploring and learning. I think this will be so much fun. And I’m excited for all the amazing pictures we’ll get (bahaha, probably not.) Also pray for this momma and her husband as we travel with a toddler, stay in strange places with a toddler, and royally mess up our routine-loving toddler’s schedule. Yikes. That part is making me more than a little nervous. But, I’m so very thankful and grateful to be able to get away for a while. This summer has not been very kind to my whole family, and I think we all need a change of pace.