Tag: grateful

Home Sweet Home.

Home. All kinds of people have often defined what home is. Comfort, peace, a soft landing place after a long day, just to name a few. Our daughter is a homebody (we are too). She LOVES being home. She would rather be there than anywhere. It makes going out to eat or going to church an issue every single time. She does not want to leave the house, even for something I know she will enjoy when she gets there [*ahem*, looking at you, school.]

My husband and I planned a trip coming up pretty soon that I KNOW our daughter will be excited about, because she has been talking about it since the last time we went. We told her the other morning, and she literally cried and said she didn’t want to go. She just wanted to stay home. Now, we’ve talked a lot about it since and I think she is getting more excited, but it’s a struggle.

Our daughter feeling completely at home on the grounds of Biltmore Estate a couple of years ago.

Her love of home keeps me so humble, and I just had this conversation with someone yesterday… I always think about that quote that floats around social media every now and then, “Remember that you prayed for what you have now.” And that’s SO TRUE. I have a husband who is my perfect partner in every way. We have a safe roof over our head in a safe neighborhood. We have a healthy, smart, beautiful child. We have a dog. We have enough money to put food on our table, to bless others, to get things we not only need but just want. I did, I prayed for all of this. So, when comparison and discontent creep in, our daughter’s love of our home keeps me in check. We have everything we need, and we’re comfortable and blessed.

Yesterday, we got a new shower installed in our daughter’s bathroom. It has probably needed to be replaced since we moved in, but we haven’t been able to do it until now. We lived with the old, stained, incredibly hard to clean textured tub from the ’70’s, but it always was something that bugged me about our house. Our daughter has cried and cried over the change in her bathroom. She loved the old tub. Last night as I put her to bed, she told me that home felt weird now because it had changed. Then she went into a long monologue about how much she loved home. She finished with, “Mama, can you make everywhere home?” Gosh, I wish I could.

Our home isn’t picture perfect, but it is the definition of comfort to our sweet girl.

I’m so thankful, humble, and blessed. I know that not all people, not all children have that safe space to land every day. And I pray that our home feels that way to anyone who comes into it. It’s a safe space, and you’re always welcome. There might just be dog hair everywhere and the kitchen may not be cleaned up from breakfast. But, people who love each other live here, and that’s really all that matters.

Overstimulated.

Sometimes I get over-stimulated. Today, I freaked out on my daughter because she was leaning over me to try to see something. I yelled and told her to stop touching me. She looked scared and I immediately felt bad. But do you ever just get touched out?

During a normal day the washer and dryer are going, the dishwasher is running, my kid is yelling, “Mama!!!” for the literal hundredth time, the dog is barking, the TV might be on, the microwave is beeping, the air fryer is on. Plus, the dog is asking out AGAIN, my daughter wants me to play with her and I really want to but I have to fold this laundry and put away these dishes and answer this phone call and actually sit down and do my work at some point. And I wonder what we should have for dinner and are we out of coffee filters? And did I pay that bill? And I need to vacuum, but I’m exhausted and the dog barks at me the whole time the vacuum is running. And I made coffee earlier but I got distracted and didn’t drink it, and now it’s cold. And my daughter is yelling for me again and needs help fixing her shirt, which is on backwards. The dog is now growling at me and licking my leg because he wants me to play. And I look at the clock and only like 15 minutes have gone by and I wonder how I’m ever going to make it through the day.

Sweet girl would prefer it if I would play with her all day every day.

We’re fortunate that *for now* our daughter still takes a nap. I absolutely count on that hour and a half to sit and enjoy the semi-quiet. But even then there are so many things swirling around me. And the days where, for whatever reason, she can’t fall asleep? Those are the worst.

Please don’t get me wrong. I know how absolutely blessed I am to have a home and a family who loves each other and food to eat and clothes to wear (and wash)… really, I know. But, mama is tired. Mama is overwhelmed sometimes. And mama just needs to sit in silence without being touched every now and then. If this resonates with you, please know that you’re not alone. And even if you have to take your coffee and hide in the closet so that you can drink it while it’s hot, I hope you can find a quiet moment today.

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.

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.

Tithe

Last week was a crazy week. This week has been much more calm, and I’ve had some time to process. So, it all started two weekends ago, actually, when a car that we normally couldn’t afford showed up at my husband’s work (he works in the automotive industry) in exactly our price range. We had been discussing needing a new one in the near future – ours has the possibility of some transmission issues and our extended warranty has expired. We’ve always had issues with the air conditioning not being cool enough, and there’s no rear A/C, so it takes baby girl forever to cool down in the backseat in the summer. Plus, the paint looks awful (and I know that doesn’t affect how well the car drives, but it literally looks like I drove through an acid hail storm.) I did not think, however, we would be thinking about purchasing another one so soon. Anyway, this car turns up and it checks all the boxes on my “must-have” list for a new car: heated seats (we had these in a previous car and I miss them so much), heated mirrors, rear heating and air, and enough room for all our stuff – especially the mound of stuff we take on vacation with us. My husband inquired about the car and turns out, it was priced that low by mistake, but they’re willing to honor it. Well, that seemed too perfect. So, that night he and I discussed it, then I prayed about it before bed. I had a very clear dream that night that I asked God for a sign that we should buy this car, and He provided it. But, still clearer in my dream, God told me to give Him what was His first. We’ve been spotty tithers the last few years. At first, I blamed it on the new baby, then “mom brain” made me forget, but somewhere along the way I let it become of little importance in my mind. I’d give when I remembered, and sometimes not even then because we had extra bills that month or whatever. You don’t have to give me a tithing sermon, I know deep in my soul the importance of giving God back what He so graciously gives us. I just let it become a wedge. It kept separating me further and further from God’s plan for my life. It wasn’t good. Then a few months ago, hubby told me that our church was now doing automatic withdrawal for tithing. I know, it sounds sort of cold, but it was exactly the commitment and accountability I needed. I wanted to give, I just either let it slip my mind, or rationalized my way out of it when it came time to actually do it. I was not a “cheerful giver.” He and I both agreed that this was something we needed to do, but, again, for whatever reason, we hadn’t done it yet. So, when I had my dream, I knew exactly what we needed to do before anything else. Sunday we got the form and set up our tithes to be withdrawn from our account automatically.

Monday was incredibly warm for a February day. Our hot water had been running out pretty quickly for some time, so hubby went to Lowe’s and got an element to change out to see if that helped. Baby girl and I had already played outside, but daddy was going and she wanted to go too. I really had more work I needed to do, but I put it off until later and took her back outside (a 10 or 11 PM clock out time is pretty normal for me anymore.) Hubby got under the house and started working on the water heater. He came out a few minutes later and told me that the whole bottom of the unit had rusted out, and there was no way to fix it. My mind immediately started spinning. We had talked about, down the road that included a home improvement loan, putting in a tankless water heater. I start trying to figure out how to make something work, but my head just kept getting fuzzy. Too. Much. Big. Decision. Making. We talked about calling a plumber we know and discussing our options with him, but it was already like 5 PM, and it was supposed to rain the rest of the week. Hubby ended up finding a tank that would fit in our short crawlspace in stock at Lowe’s, so he went off to get that while I fed baby girl dinner. He got home and started working while I put baby girl to bed. I finally went out to check on him and I felt so helpless. I asked what I could do to help, and he said, “just keep me company.” There was a lot of crawling around in the dirt under the house, turning on faucets, and walking back and forth through the yard. My sweet husband was under the house on his hands and knees in the dark working so hard so that we could have hot water. He’s literally the best.

Tuesday morning baby girl woke up a few minutes earlier than usual screaming her head off. She had a stuffy nose, but other than that seemed fine. She ate a few bites of breakfast and said she was done. As the morning went on, I could tell she was congested. I called the pediatrician to find out the correct dosage for some benadryl, and we turned the shower on really hot and sat in the steamy bathroom for a while. When we got out, she really started acting pitiful. I could hear that she had some drainage in her throat, and she ended up gagging on it and throwing up. I thought that was all it was, but she ended up vomiting about 10 times throughout the day. She couldn’t keep anything down.

Wednesday she was almost more pitiful because you could tell she felt better enough to want to play, but she didn’t have the energy to. She barely ate all day, but did eat a fairly good dinner. We sat on the couch and cuddled most of the day.

Thursday she was much more like herself, with only a few pitiful moments in between. She still hardly ate anything. That morning I had so much energy. I changed the sheets and washed the dirty ones, started straightening up a spot in our bedroom that has been a mess since we moved here, did more laundry, did some proactive and productive things for work, did the dishes, and just straightened up anything else out of place along the way. I was so stinking productive. I was sitting on the couch working when baby girl woke up from her nap. I went to get up, and I noticed I was kind of sore all over. My throat had been a little scratchy that morning, but I figured it was sleeping with my mouth open. That afternoon, I could feel constant drainage running down the back of my throat, and it was getting progressively worse. By the time 3 o’clock rolled around, I was pretty miserable. That night I laid in bed and my arms and legs just ached. I could barely swallow and when I did I gagged on what was in my throat. My poor, sweet girl… no wonder she was pitiful. It was miserable. Luckily I skipped the vomiting part, but it’s now Monday night and I’m still not 100%

Sweet girl starting to feel better. Dressing up and a good book are a great remedy for the yuckies.

Baby girl and I stayed home from church yesterday so we didn’t spread our germs and I’m glad we did. She had a meltdown after she woke up from her nap that lasted an hour. I’m still not exactly sure what was wrong, but she acted like something hurt. We finally gave her some pain medicine and after it had just enough time to kick in, she finally calmed down. Even today, she’s had crying spells, she hasn’t wanted to walk much at all but instead wants to be carried everywhere, and we’ve sat and cuddled more than we’ve done anything else. I told my husband today that I’m not going to lie – I kind of like it when she starts whining [okay, I really don’t like the whining part] and says, “I need to cuddle mama.” There were months and months after she was born, maybe even a whole year, where she just did not like to cuddle. So, even though it’s not super conducive to me getting things done, it makes me happy to hear that she wants to cuddle. I do hate that it’s because she doesn’t feel good. We’re going on a week that she’s been off.

Anyway, we made a commitment to give God some of the money He has blessed us with, and look, satan immediately freaked out. He attacked us hard. Nope, I’m not taking that money back to pay for whatever you’re throwing at me. You can’t threaten me. I KNOW that when I bless God, a wonderful side effect of it is that He will bless me right back again. I have no room for your financial strains and sickness. Bye.

The point is this: whoever sows sparingly will also reap sparingly, and whoever sows bountifully will also reap bountifully… He who supplies the seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness.

2 Corinthians 9:6 & 10

So, obviously it’s Wednesday now…I started writing this last week and finished Monday. Word vomit. I think I write these things to process them, to kind of take a step back and see them from a different perspective than the one I have when I’m smack dab in the middle of it. Also, it’s way easier to recognize satan’s attacks when you take a step back. I think I also just want to remember these things. Broken water heaters and sickness are real life. It may not be the picture-perfect moment that I’ll remember 20 years from now, but it’s still our life right now.

Cheer.

Bear with me, guys. I’ve been working on this particular post all week when I have time, so parts of the post were written at different times.

It’s the day before Christmas eve and I’m sitting here doing something I never do – holding my daughter while she takes a nap. She will be two next month, and I’m pretty sure I can count on one hand how many times we’ve done this since she started sleeping in her own bed at around four months. I don’t know if she’s getting sick, if she’s just growing, or if it’s simply the chaos of Christmas, but this kid has been out of whack for a couple of weeks. She whines ALL THE TIME (and if you know me, you know I can’t stand whining), she’s been sleeping way longer than normal at night, waking up later than usual (I slept in until 8 AM last Saturday – I literally haven’t done that since she was born), and being extra cuddly (which is so unlike her). It could be that her sleeping schedule keeps getting messed up because of various outings, or because of all the different and not-so-great-for-you food we’ve been letting her eat (like the entire snickerdoodle cookie she ate last night.) Whatever it is, she’s out of sorts. So, here we are, sitting in the chair in her room, all cuddled up in a blanket. She is still sniffling in her sleep from crying even after at least 45 minutes of sitting here. I feel bad, because I tried so hard to comfort her and get her to sleep in her bed like she does every other day. I told her no when she said she wanted to “cuddle mama,” because it has become to her a kind of distraction from doing things she doesn’t want to do. But, after her screaming uncontrollably for a few minutes, I couldn’t take it. She was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe. And as much as I love cuddling this sweet girl while she sleeps, I don’t want this to become a thing. I don’t want her to learn to scream uncontrollably when something isn’t really wrong because she knows that eventually she’ll get her way. I don’t want her to think that she can’t fall asleep on her own anymore and undo all the work we did getting her to sleep as well as she does. Why is this so hard?

Cuddling my whiny baby.

Now, it’s 1:30 AM and I’m still laying here awake. I stayed up to finish wrapping presents and now I’m wired. Hubby has been complaining more than usual that he’s tired, and I can visibly see that he’s exhausted. He hasn’t slept well in years, and he’s finally got a sleep study consultation scheduled next month (after much nagging on my part.) But, I feel like his sleeping has gotten worse recently… kind of around the time baby girl’s started being noticeably out of whack. I don’t know what’s going on, but between all the busyness of the season and worrying about my people’s sleep, I’m not sleeping either. I keep hearing baby girl talk in her sleep or cry out, and, bless his heart, hubby’s snoring isn’t super conducive to either of us getting much sleep. We’re a family of zombies lately.

I write all this to say that even though sometimes we think people’s holiday season looks picture-perfect, it’s more than likely not really. If you look at the December album on my Facebook, it looks like we have it all together. In reality we’re all so tired, I have about fifty of the same picture on my phone from trying to get that one perfect shot, we’re doing the third load of dishes today and somehow the sink is still full, the laundry is piled high, I still have people to buy Christmas gifts for, I’m worried about us getting sick (there are SO MANY germs out there right now), and I’m trying to find the balance of handling all this and just living in and enjoying the moment. Those are usually the only parts anyone ever sees. But, if you’ve been struggling, you’re not alone. No one’s holiday season is actually perfect; we just have to choose to see our own chaos, whatever it looks like, as perfect to us.

My kid was SUPER over opening Christmas gifts.

I’ve been super guilty in the past of building up my expectations (especially holiday expectations) so high that they can’t possibly be met, and then getting so disappointed when my “plans” didn’t turn out. I think I did better this year. I’ve been trying to live more intentionally. I’ve been trying to enjoy each moment for what it is instead of what I think it should be. God has shown me a lot lately that my plans are not His plans, and that’s perfectly fine because His plan is better. He keeps reminding me, and I’ve been trying to do better about just going with the flow and appreciating the ride. Movie nights with hot chocolate and matching pajama photos are fine, but do you know what else is great? Reading the same book with my daughter over and over again because she wants “mama read again,” taking a different way home than you normally would so your daughter can see the giant blow up Santa on top of the government building downtown, late-night dinner and grocery store runs with your husband to get a few last-minute gifts, staying up late to make biscuit dough for a Christmas brunch with your family, and sitting in the quiet room with the Christmas tree all lit up.

The everyday, unplanned, and messy moments are the moments. They make up the majority of our whole lives. If we just keep waiting and wishing for those fleeting picture-perfect moments, we will end up disappointed. Our lives will pass us by without us even realizing it.

Making goodies with my girl. Glad her daddy caught this “picture-perfect” moment because it lasted about two seconds.

Thanksgiving

The last few weeks have been an emotional rollercoaster. This whole going to the doctor thing is for the birds. I have several bible devotions I want to share with you guys, but they all coincide with things that were happening in my life at the time. So, I think I’m going to do things a little differently this time and actually date these entries, just to keep things straight. I might also interject with some details for clarification.

Nov. 6

Fear not, for I am with you; be not dismayed, for I am your God; I will strengthen you, I will help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.

Isaiah 41:10

This is God speaking to the Israelites, but I feel like if we are His people too, it applies to us as well. Several years ago, I had to go get an ultrasound on a “lump” in my breast. I was really scared, and my best friend texted me this verse the morning I went. It was a comfort to hold onto. Yesterday, I went and got some blood work done, and today the results were posted on my chart online. It just says “abnormal blood chemistry.” I have no idea what that means. I made the mistake of googling it, and it could mean anything as minor as dehydration or as serious as bone cancer or a blood disease.

I’m trying so very hard not to freak out or fear the worst. In looking for this verse again, I was reading through some other passages in Isaiah, and was reminded how big God is and how small I am. Whatever is going on with me, it’s just a tiny puzzle piece in the grand scheme of things. He’s holding it, just like He’s holding every moment of every single person’s life. He’s in control and my worry is not needed.

I’m not quite to the point of having unexplainable peace about the situation just yet, I just found out 30 minutes ago. But, I am clinging to God’s promises, the fact that He holds me, and that His will is perfect.

Nov. 7

Into your hand I commit my spirit; you have redeemed me, O Lord, faithful God… I will rejoice and be glad in your steadfast love, because you have seen my affliction; you have known the distress of my soul.

Psalm 31:5&7

I was not okay yesterday. The unknown completely freaks me out. I was trying to cling to God’s goodness, and to trust in His plan – but I was struggling.

When the doctor’s office finally called, I was so appreciative of the woman on the phone. She explained what was going on [high cholesterol and high liver enzymes] very calmly and was reassuringly positive. She calmed me down immediately. But then what did I do? I took what she said and started to worry and speculate. I forgot to praise God for the comfort He sent.

Then, I called my mom to tell her what they said, and I had a very good conversation with her. I hung up feeling better. I forgot to praise God.

Last night, I went to worship team practice for the first time in FOREVER. Before we prayed to begin, I was talking to a couple of people about what was going on. Our piano player has a doctorate in nursing, and she assured me that the liver enzymes were related to the cholesterol. Our sound guy agreed, and said the same thing had happened to him. I felt SO much better about everything. Practice was awesome – we sang songs that I love, I worshipped. But, again, I forgot to thank God for the comfort He sent me in those people.

Only when I sat down to do a devotion today did I realize what God had done. I literally had just posted a quote last night from one of my previous blog posts about how God is good even when I make myself too busy to see it… talk about stepping on my own toes.

Nov. 20

Great is our Lord, and abundant in power; His understanding is beyond measure… sing to the Lord with thanksgiving; make melody to our God on the lyre!… but the Lord takes pleasure in those who fear Him, in those who hope in His steadfast love.

Psalm 147:5, 7, 11

Thanksgiving is on my mind today; partly because the holiday is coming up next week, but also because I just have so much to be thankful for.

Hubby and I were talking last night, and I realized at some point during like a five minute span, he had said, “I’m sorry,” to me about a dozen times; it wasn’t because he had done anything wrong, but because I kept stating things that were wrong with me or kept complaining about this or that. I got so frustrated with myself that I was focusing so much on all the negative things in my life. Yes, I have aches and pains; yes, my health is questionable at the moment; no, I didn’t get everything done today that I had planned to; yes, I am an emotional wreck about my baby growing up; no, our house isn’t exactly how we want it; no, we dont have the money to do everything we want to do… I could go on forever. BUT, I should be able to go on forever about my blessings. Everybody has aches and pains as they age, and I should feel grateful that I’m able to grow older; I am convinced that my circumstances have brought me exactly where I’m supposed to be while I’m having these health issues- God’s got it; my to-do list isn’t as important as God’s; I have a sweet baby girl that I prayed and prayed for, and she is healthy and growing; we have somewhere comfortable to lay our heads and spend our time; we are abundantly blessed to have what we need and more. Even if we didn’t have all that, we have hope in His steadfast love and He takes pleasure in us. WHAT MORE DO WE NEED? Not a thing.

My prayer today, and every day forward, is that I keep my life in a heavenly perspective. I have NOTHING to complain about – and if I think I do, that’s just satan distracting from my blessings so that I’ll forget to praise God for them, and so I’ll forget to use them for His glory. [Funny story – Jim’s message at church this morning was called, “I have a complaint.” Some awesome people did a skit (which I only saw part of in rehearsal) and he preached a message of thanksgiving. I didn’t get to see it all because of a busy, family-filled day ahead that warranted me to leave early and put my toddler down for a nap, lest she be cranky for the rest of the day. But, I definitely need to go back and watch the video. I know it’s the season, but God so very often lays the same theme on both our hearts. I love how He reinforces His word to me through Jim ❤]

Nov. 21

I will extol you, my God and my king, and bless your name forever and ever. Every day I will bless you and praise your name forever and ever. Great is the Lord, and greatly to be praised, and His greatness is unreachable.

Psalm 145:1-3

Jim asked us to think about what would make someone praise God this way. He said, in his opinion, it is because they have needed God and He rescued them; they see God’s hand in their lives; they have “pass[ed] through the limitations of self and the world and stepped into the kingdom where God is God and they catch a glimpse of what He can do, while at the same time realizing there is so much more that they can’t even begin to comprehend.” Have I experienced God like this? OH, YES I HAVE. Many times. So why do I forget to praise Him every day for who He is and what He’s done?

I need to approach Him every day with thanksgiving, recognizing who He is and what He’s done for me.

So, there’s all the entries I wanted to share with you about this. Thursday afternoon I went back to the doctor. It was kind of a long visit, but I did go over my long list of concerns with her. As far as the liver enzymes go, she said that most likely I just have a fatty liver and need to change my diet. She said it could also be my gallbladder, which I’ve been having trouble with off and on for over 10 years… so I’m kind of hoping it’s that and we can take it out and move on. I go Tuesday for an ultrasound of my abdomen to see what’s going on. She also had me do more bloodwork for a food allergy test with the possibility of a more comprehensive one pending the results. She’s referring me to a dermatologist and a chiropractor as well. I feel a little ridiculous, but I’ve been neglecting (actively ignoring) my health for so long, it is nice to have a plan… even if it does make me feel like I’m 95 years old. I’m thankful that I have the opportunity to address all these issues.

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.

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.