Tag: hope

Emotions.

This year, Easter has looked a bit different. We didn’t have the big  family dinner or the egg hunts with cousins like we normally do. We didn’t have the traditional Easter ham or dessert table. With illness, medical procedures, appointments, and the general busyness of life, we just couldn’t make it work this year.

Last night, it all caught up with me: The heaviness of what we’ve been going through over the last month and a half and what we still face, of the feeling of not being able to catch my breath as I move from one thing to the next every day, of the feeling of failure as certain things get put on the back burner, of the disappointment I’ve been feeling as things aren’t working out how I had hoped, of the Easter season and what God’s sacrifice means for me. I lost it last night. Tears flowed as I washed dishes that had been neglected for entirely too long. Anger flew out of me as I bent down to get a ziploc bag out of the drawer and I slammed it shut. Frustration with myself welled up inside as I surveyed our messy, dirty house. I felt responsible for everything all at once and guilt over having dropped so many balls, over not being able to carry it all, not only physically, but emotionally as well. I broke down.

The good thing about knowing Jesus is that you can trust Him to hold your stuff. He’s not only strong enough to do so, but He wants to. We were never meant to do all this alone. And knowing Him means that while I may lose my *crap* for a few minutes on a Saturday night, my emotions aren’t me. They don’t have the final say. I can take my messy, tangled, raw emotions and lay them at His feet. He can handle them. He can sort them out. He can guide my steps in the way I should go, and He can help me carry the things that are too heavy for me to shoulder on my own.

My sweet seven year old fell asleep on me today.

So, I’m thankful for our non-traditional Easter – for my mom coming to church with us this morning, for going out to eat with my mom and sister, for the snuggles I got because our daughter isn’t feeling well (she NAPPED on me!) Because, in the end, it’s not about the way you celebrate Easter. It’s about WHO you are celebrating ✝️❤️

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.

Hello again.

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

Psalm 94:18+19

Waiting with patience.

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

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

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

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

Still blessed.

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


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

No good.

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

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

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

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.

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!

Fires.

You all, I went into panic mode major yesterday. I got on the good ole Instagram to post this photo, and couldn’t find it. Ever since I had put an SD card into my phone, Instagram has had some issues pulling things from my phone’s gallery, so at first I didn’t think anything of it. But I went in and searched for it like I normally do in the SD card memory and it wasn’t there. I got to looking and a ton of my pictures were missing, like THOUSANDS of pictures. The SD card that had been about half full now said that almost all the memory was empty. I was FREAKING OUT. I was trying to stay calm hoping that somehow my husband could save the day when he got home from work. I then remembered that we had downloaded the Amazon photos app just a few weeks ago and had backed up our photos to that. The day was saved, right? Not quite. When I opened the app, all it was showing me were the same photos my phone said I had… just a couple hundred, not the thousands we had backed up. Well, I was totally freaked out then, and noticed that my phone was getting really hot. So, I took out the SD card and put it into my computer… it still said there was hardly anything on it. At this point, I was really trying to come to terms with the fact that I may had lost all my pictures of our life from the last year and a half (I had backed up earlier ones before this on a physical hard drive). All I had were the ones I had posted on Facebook. But, after removing the SD card from my phone, I closed all the apps, prayed, then opened the Amazon photo app again. They were all there except the ones taken after September 10th of this year. I was so ecstatic. I guess something happened that day, and I’m glad I caught it when I did.

When hubby got home he found a program online to scan the SD card and found (I think, I’m kind of afraid to look) all of my photos and videos hidden in the “free space” of the card. Yeah, I’m not using that anymore. Ugh.

A few days ago, I saw two different instances where local families’ houses had burned down and they had lost everything. I had already been thinking about the people affected by the wildfires out west, how horrible it would be to literally lose everything I own. Then, I saw some pictures from Rachael Ray’s [the TV chef. I sort of love her a lot!] home. Her house burned down several months ago from a fireplace fire, and she shared photos of the devastation as the new season of her show started. I cried. I can’t imagine losing everything. I mean, I know that everyone says, “as long as everyone is okay, it’s just stuff, it can be replaced.” And that’s true. People are far more important than any earthly thing. However, family heirlooms are not replaceable; your kids’ artwork and handmade gifts are not replaceable; your favorite book you’ve read a million times over the years that is worn in just the right way is not replaceable. These things are just lost. It got me thinking about life and how sometimes we need spiritual fires to make us move. Sometimes we have to be shaken and our world has to be turned upside down for us to wake up, to see things with fresh eyes, and to get up and move. When I’m really comfy on the couch, I don’t want to move; I’m perfectly content to be where I am and have no intention of moving until I absolutely have to. I’ve found out the hard way lately that life isn’t comfortable, and when we start to think we might be comfortable, change comes charging in before we ever know what hit us. It turns over the couch and throws us into the floor. Life is hard. I’ll say that again because it’s so stinking true: LIFE. IS. HARD.

All these “sayings” that you hear about life being about more than stuff, about how time goes so quickly, about how we’re never guaranteed tomorrow… those came from wise people. Those came from people who have lived it and know what they’re talking about. Those came from a place of love, trying to spare us from making the same mistakes and taking the same things for granted that they did. But for whatever reason, we humans seem to be inherently stubborn, and we think we know better. We have to find out for ourselves what we’ve heard all along. And it hurts. It’s so painful. And some people never realize it until it’s too late.

I know pictures are also just things, but they are more than that: they are irreplaceable reminders of memories that might otherwise fade. I’m so, so thankful that my hubby seemingly was able to recover them. My heart breaks for people who have lost tangible pieces of their lives and memories in fires or by other natural disasters.

In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, so that the tested genuineness of your faith- more precious than gold that perishes in fire – may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.

1 Peter 1:6&7

I feel like in reference to this passage, “a little while” could be considered most of our earthly lives, because compared to eternity, it is in fact just a little while. This is our refining time, and being refined is often hard and painful. But, we can still rejoice in our grieving because of who God is and what He’s done for us, and is still doing for us every day. We can walk through hardships giving praise and honor and glory to Christ, because He has already overcome everything that we are facing. And I’m not saying that this life is all terrible by any means, because it’s not. God gives us daily, minute to minute reminders of how much He loves us and cares for us in the people we love, the beautiful sky, the wonder of nature, and so much more. We just have to slow down to really appreciate them.

Tired.

I’ve been writing in the notes of my phone like crazy lately, but actually sharing it with the world has been giving me pause. Everyone is hurting, suffering, or at least dealing in one way or another with the effects of this pandemic. I think I feel sometimes that my feelings aren’t relevant or important enough, so I keep them tucked neatly into my journal and phone. But, I know that people need to know they are not alone. I know that I want to use even my hardships to bless others. So, here’s a compilation of a few things I’ve written recently.

You all, I’m tired. I’m emotionally tired, I’m physically tired, and I’m mentally tired. I go through these emotional highs and lows – I’m happy, energetic, and hopeful one minute [that resulted in me having what I called a “cleaning fit” this morning and cleaning like a mad woman for like an hour] and the next minute I feel like I might cry if you look at me the wrong way. On top of that, stress and anxiety weigh on our physical health anyway, but I picked now to try to get “healthy” and I’ve been walking and running almost every day for over a month now [I’ve also now added in some Zumba as well.] I keep thinking the soreness and general tiredness will eventually get better, but it hasn’t so far. Now my knees hurt so bad all the time that I wince when I walk. I think I may have [somehow?] injured myself [this finally got better!]. Add that to the every day allergies, stomach issues, and an occasional migraine, and I’m exhausted. Also, my brain sucks lately. I feel like I can’t concentrate, I often can’t think of the right word, and I get confused so easily lately [probably because I’m not paying attention.] Again, I’m exhausted.I know that everyone is tired. We’re tired of worrying, of making hard decisions, of being careful. We’re tired of life being weird. And I know parents, teachers, school staff, and all the kiddos are so super tired of adjusting to new normals. I know healthcare professionals, nurses, doctors, emergency responders, caretakers, they’re beyond exhausted. I know store employees, restaurant workers, small business owners are also exhausted and eagerly awaiting things to go back to normal. We’re all weary from this crazy season in our own ways. I try to look for the good in every day, I really do. But some days it’s easier to do that than others.

If you feel lost and tired this is your song.A few weekends ago, we cleaned out a box from the garage, and we found a boom box from my adolescent days in there. It’s amazing – one of those things that middle school me just had to have – you know, the early 2000s see-through frosted plastic. It’s purple. It’s great. Well, ever since we took it out of the box, baby girl was obsessed with it – wanting to know what it was and what it did. So, that Sunday afternoon we took it into her room, plugged it in, and showed her how it worked. I grabbed a CD off the top of this box of CDs that’s sitting in our dining room / office that we’ve never unpacked [🤦‍♀️] and showed her how to use it. It was a compilation of big band songs, and we had the best time. We all danced in baby girl’s room; we twirled, we twisted, we jived. It was so much fun. That night when were getting ready for bed, she told me happily that she had such a fun afternoon. Who knew that listening to big band music on a purple boom box would bring so much joy to a two year old? I love that it’s the little things that seem to make her the happiest.

Ever since that day, she has been very interested in listening to more music, so we’ve slowly been pulling out different things. I definitely got an eclectic taste in music from my dad, so we’ve got a little bit of everything. Tonight [after jokingly offering to put in an Usher CD… “Yeah!” anybody?] hubby pulled out a CD that I hadn’t listened to in years; but the second it started, I felt the familiarity and warmth that it always evoked in me. You all, if you’ve never listened to The Robbie Seay Band, you’re missing out. Their album “Give Yourself Away” is some of the best “non-worship music” worship music I’ve ever heard. It definitely sounds more mid-two-thousands than I remember, but it still hit my emotions the same. And as I listened to the words I realized how relevant the whole album is. There’s a theme of finding the good in the midst of the bad, praising God simply because He is God, and clinging to God and each other in times of trouble.The above quote is from the song Shine Your Light on Us. Here are the rest of the lyrics:

Oh, my God shine Your light on us
That we might live
And oh, my God shine Your light on us
That we might liveI’ve been holding on
And I’ve been holding onAll that is inside of me
Screams to come back homeAnd if you feel lost, if you feel lost
Sing along
And if you feel tired, if you feel tired
Sing alongAnd if you feel lost and tired
This is your song, yeahAnd I’ve been broken down
And I’ve been broken down
But I ain’t giving up
Love will come back around

These lyrics are good, but man, you have to listen to the song. The instruments, the voices… The emotion in all the songs on the album is simply amazing.My very favorite Robbie Seay Band song, however, probably won me over because it mentions coffee. Also, I just feel it in my soul. Like I said, I got my love of music from my dad, so maybe not everyone feels music emotionally like I do, but I’m so glad that I do. This song just hits me deep inside, I don’t know how to explain it… anybody else out there feel that way about a song?

New Day:I’m gonna sing this song to let you know that you’re not alone
And if you’re like me, you need hope, coffee and melody
So sit back down and let the world keep spinning ’round
For yesterday’s gone and today is waiting on you to show your faceAnd it might not be the prettiest thing that you’ll ever see
But it’s a new day, ah baby, it’s a new day
And it might not look like a beautiful sunrise
But it’s a new day, ah baby, it’s a new dayI’m a pilgrim soul, I’ve traveled far and come back home
And this land is hard and cold for those who long to love
And I know it might seem that the world is crumbling
But it’s me and you dancing in the kitchen at 2 A.M. and we’re still aliveAnd it might not be the prettiest thing that you’ll ever see
But it’s a new day, ah baby, it’s a new day
And it might not look like a beautiful sunrise
But it’s a new day, ah baby, it’s a new dayIt’s the calm of the storm that comes blowing in
It’s the springtime saying I’m back again
The clouds that roll by crossing moonlight
Me and you, love, everything’s alrightStanding in the rain with nowhere to go
Laughing and we’re spinning and I hope that you
Remember this day for the rest of your life
Me and you, love, everything’s gonna be alrightAnd it just might be the prettiest thing that you’ll ever see
Well it’s a new day, ah baby, it’s a new day
If you look outside to see a beautiful sunrise
Well it’s a new day, ah new day, it’s a new day

Beside the obvious mention of my beloved coffee, I just realized that there are probably several reasons this song speaks to me. For one, I’ve mentioned before on here that one of my favorite bible verses is from Lamentations 3 about how God’s mercies are new every morning (verse 23). There’s something that’s always been so comforting to me to think about that even though I really screwed up yesterday, I can start over today. Even though I was unfocused, rebellious, selfish, whatever, I can start again today. I have a chance to do better today. And that is beautiful to me, that God loves us so much to give us not just a second or third or even fourth chance, but a new chance every single day.I think this song also speaks to me because God has really been driving home the “beauty in the every day” point with me, in the last few years especially. The world tells us that life should look a certain way, and when it inevitably doesn’t, we get disappointed or we work even harder, trying to reach an unattainable standard. We waste so much time on ideals that we miss life. Looking for the extraordinary in the mundane, taking a step back and acknowledging the beauty in what God has created, appreciating the little things, seeing the blessing in the mess – it’s what makes life joyful.Lastly, I think this song does a wonderful job at addressing what we’re all feeling right now. I’ve seen so much good come out of this pandemic, but not nearly as much as there should be. The world is divided. People are angry. People are hurt. People are scared. And as a Christian, it’s easy to get distracted from what loving each other really looks like. The world tells us one thing, while Jesus tells us something completely different. It’s so hard to love like Jesus, but it’s something we all need to continue to strive for. We have to remember that each day we can start over; we can ask God to give us His heart for other people, and we can go out and be His hands and feet. Each day, even though the world seems like it’s literally falling apart, we still have each other and we still have God’s sweet reminders of His love. That’s what should keep us going.