Tag: Lifestyle

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.

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.

Me.

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

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

Some other random thoughts:

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

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

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

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

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

Vacation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Season.

It was pretty cool here Friday, like 70 degrees and cloudy. I’m. So. Happy. It has been so hot and dry here lately, I’m pretty sure we went three whole weeks without rain. When I went to write this blog post, I looked up the word, “pluviophile,” because I had read somewhere that it referred to someone who loves rain, and thought, “that’s me!” Much to my disappointment, that’s not a real, Webster’s recognized word. But, it still describes me. I legit start getting antsy when it hasn’t rained in a while, and almost a little depressed. So, the last little while had been adding some extra emotional stress to my days. It has finally rained and I am so much more calm than I have been. I’m certain most people are the opposite, and hate when it rains for days on end. So, either way, someone somewhere is miserable no matter what the weather is doing. That’s a happy thought.

Anyway, I was driving home from the store on Friday and got to thinking. I used the “cooler” weather as an excuse to wear my favorite shirt, which is long sleeved. Baby girl was babbling and singing in the backseat. We had just bought doughnuts. It was Friday. And the weather felt ah-mazing. I felt so full of happiness. I wondered why in the world it couldn’t feel like that all the time, I would be so much more comfortable and happy. God spoke to my heart very plainly and immediately – “you wouldn’t appreciate the cool as much without the hotter months.” Yep, true. No, I don’t necessarily ever get tired of the cooler (even cold) weather (I know, I’m weird), but there is something different about that first hint of crisp air after months and months of sweltering heat; it’s a happiness that just fills my entire soul. I can only imagine that people who love warm weather feel a similar happiness when spring makes an appearance after a cold winter.

That got me thinking – in our lives we go through different seasons as well. We have good, comfortable seasons. We have awful, miserable seasons where it feels like everything is hitting us at once. We have mundane seasons where we’re merely trudging through. We have all sorts of times in our lives that make us experience all sorts of things. Would we recognize the good without having gone through the bad? If we don’t experience hardships to some degree, would we take our good times for granted? I honestly think so. I don’t think we can truly recognize God’s light if we’ve never experienced darkness. God knows the balance, He knows exactly what we need to grow into the exact person He wants us to be. The hard part, for me anyway, is remembering to look for the blessing and/ or the lesson when I’m going through the valleys of life. It’s easy to get caught up in the “why me?!” of it all, that I miss the point. Only after, when the next blessing comes along, do I look back and say, “oh, I get it now.” Or, when times are good, I still dwell on negative, minuscule things that don’t matter, rather than enjoy what’s going on around me, and more importantly be grateful for it. The thing I need to work on is enjoying the present and being thankful for it – whatever it looks like and however miserable I may think it to be. If we’re only sitting around waiting for the good times to come along, we not only miss the present, but we also build up the thing we’re looking forward to so much, that it almost becomes disappointing when it finally happens. Does that make any sense? Maybe it’s just me.

As I was writing this, Ecclesiastes 3:1-8 came to mind, especially verse 1:

For everything there is a season, and a time for every matter under the sun.

It may be cliché and remind me of a Byrds song, but it’s true. The thing we have to remember is that whatever is going on in our lives, God CAN and WILL use it for our good if we allow Him to. (Romans 8:28)

And we know that for those who love God all things work together for good, for all those who are called according to His purpose.

Do I believe that? Wholeheartedly, but I forget that I believe it sometimes. Plus, I think I’m guilty of applying this in my mind only to big things. But, even small, everyday things like the weather can be used as well. I just have to be open to see it.

Lamentations.

Y’all get a threefer tonight, because I have been poring over my bible devotions trying to find a particular one, and in the process found other ones that seemed to go hand in hand with it. In going over these, I’ve noticed that Jim has some favorite verses and passages that he keeps putting in front of us, and that I keep writing about like I’ve never read them in my whole life. It’s so funny [amazing] how the same passage speaks differently to me at different times. So, the first one is from November of last year, and the other two are both from March of this year:

The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases, His mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is Your faithfulness.

Lamentations 3:22&23

Jim asked what our favorite verse is, if it has changed, and why? For several years now, I have absolutely loved this verse from Lamentations. Once I started realizing how much sin is in my life and how much God continues to forgive me, this verse is overwhelming and comforting at the same time.

I screw up. Every. Single. Day. I try to live as God has called me, but I ALWAYS mess it up. I am so thankful that every new morning is yet another chance, a do-over, to live for Him. I think over the last several years, I’ve become a morning person; not the roll-out-of-bed-with-a-smile-on-my-face kind of morning person, but I do appreciate the time so much more than I used to. I like the quietness of it [yeah, that changed… the sweet baby is up with me then in our current season of life], seeing the sun rise, sipping my coffee and spending time with God in His word. I feel like it’s just the calm reset I need before I take on the day. I think that’s a big reason this verse speaks to me so much now. [Like I said, we kind of roll out of bed into the day now, but I still do love mornings with my baby girl – even if she is screaming, “eat!” at me as we walk down the hallway.]

Of course, hubby gives me a hard time about my favorite verse being from from Lamentations: “of course it is,” he says. I kind of complain a lot and tend to dwell on the negative. Maybe I do like the fact that it’s from Lamentations; it’s a bit of hope in a pretty much otherwise dreary book.

I have stored up your word in my heart, that I might not sin against you.

Psalm 119:11

Jim challenged us to recall our favorite verse or passage, and think about how it keeps us from sinning. The awesome thing is, literally any verse could work if we really thought about it.

I’m pretty sure my very favorite verse is in Lamentations, of all books. 3:23 talks about the steadfast love of the Lord, and that His mercies are new every morning. This verse reminds me that even though I may have had a bad day yesterday, I may have been disobedient, and I definitely sinned, God still loves me, and I have another chance to do the right thing today. It gives me hope every day. As I dig further into God’s word, there are so very many verses and passages that i absolutely love. Also, the more immersed in them I am, the easier it is to recall them.

Let the wise hear and increase in learning, and the one who understands obtain guidance, to understand a proverb and a saying, the words of the wise and their riddles.

Proverbs 1:5&6

Jim asked, how much bible can we stand? Do we read a couple of chapters and have to put it down? Do we read a verse here and there? I have a distinct memory from my teenage years where I’m sitting on my bed reading the bible. I had just heard about people who read the whole bible in a year, and thought that I would try. I started at the beginning, but remember becoming overwhelmed by the language (I had a New King James version.) Once I got to the pages and pages of “begets”, I was gone. I remember thinking at the time that I wasn’t even sure I wanted to read the bible anymore.

Flash forward to a couple of months ago when Jim used a passage about David for the daily devotion. I think I sat there for at least a good 45 minutes, totally immersed in 1 Samuel, reading all about David and Saul and trying to figure out who the heck Jonathan was – it was like a good book I couldn’t put down.

I still definitely have days where I just really don’t feel like reading God’s word, and it doesn’t speak to me (or so I think at the time.) When this happens, I usually try to write down something anyway, because on more than one occasion, my “uninspired” writing from one day will be exactly what I need to read another day. God definitely works through us even when we don’t think we feel like it.

I have made a more conscious effort to spend time in the word lately (even if it’s not my ideal time anymore. For example, right now it is 10:47 PM…) and I feel so much better because of it. The more I seek His wisdom and understanding, the more I enjoy being in the word, and the more I understand. Huh, imagine that… He gives us what we ask for.

Shew, sorry that was so long, guys. In my head, it made sense that all those went together, sorry if they seem random to everyone else. Also, I have SO MANY things I’ve written, so when I feel like I can post more than one at a time, I’ll probably do it. Aaaannnnd, stand by for my confession that I’ve not been great about going to God’s word the last couple of weeks. How ironic.

Muffins.

I have a love-hate relationship with baking. Actually, no, I don’t – I love baking. What I hate is baking in my kitchen. With each move, our stuff has become increasingly more disorganized. Example: there are measuring cups in the drawer by the kitchen door… there are also measuring cups in the cabinet by the sink. Half of the stuff we don’t use every day is STILL packed up, like a year and a half after we moved here. We have a plan to renovate the kitchen, dining room, and den, so I keep telling myself there’s no point in putting everything away just to move it again soon. But, ugh, I get so frustrated. You couldn’t tell by looking at my house right now, but I really do get joy out of having a neat, tidy, clean house. Something about having everything in its place makes me feel more put together in other aspects of my life. But… for whatever reason (or excuse) I just haven’t made any of those things a priority the last few years. It’s circular, and I’m not sure what started first, but having a messy house makes me feel like a mess, which makes me not want to do anything, which makes everything more of a mess. I get so mad at myself when I finally walk by the table and put a piece of mail where it goes or put the dirty bib that’s been sitting on the chair for days in the laundry. It takes like two seconds, and the amount of relief I feel is tremendous. My husband and I both note all the time how much better and less stressed we feel when we simply clean off the coffee table. Our power went out briefly like three weeks ago, and the clock on my bedside table has been flashing ever since. What is wrong with me?

Back to my point… (because nothing is ever just what it is with me. A muffin is not just a muffin, there’s a big huge emotional ordeal that comes with it.) I had been putting off making these muffins for a week. I had the strawberries, and they were starting to get a little old. I HAD to use them or throw them away. I begrudgingly dragged myself in the kitchen, trying to remind myself how much I would enjoy the finished product and how I wanted to make these for myself and my family. As I was mixing everything, I felt exasperated at how long it was taking me because everything was all over the place. But, as I put them in the oven, I felt calm. I remembered that I really do enjoy baking. I enjoy putting just the right ingredients together to make something delicious, and I find the mixing and stirring relaxing. I like feeling as if I have accomplished something. I like the simplicity of the work and resulting outcome. I like preparing food for my family. I also find the end product pretty tasty 🙂

I get so frustrated with myself about things like this. Why can’t I remember my blessings? I have a wonderful home that has a kitchen in it. I have a kitchen with a full (albeit unorganized) pantry. I have legs that can carry me into my kitchen, and hands that can pull bowls and ingredients from the shelves. I have breath in my lungs. I have everything I need and so, so much more, and I complain. I complain that my house doesn’t look like a picture from a magazine. I complain that my body is tired from working to provide for my family and from taking care of baby girl. I complain because I’d rather sit on my butt and not have muffins than to get up and do the little bit of work it takes to make them. God has given me infinitely more than I deserve, and I complain.

I pray that He opens my eyes to see each and every aspect of my life, no matter how big or small, as the blessing it is.

Focus.

Confession time: I have been in A FUNK the last few days. I haven’t felt good, I’ve been overly lazy even for me, I’ve had the worst self-esteem, and I’ve just felt blah. I’ve been looking for a previous bible devotion to put up here. I spent a good 30 minutes the other night poring over my own words, only to close my journal feeling discouraged and inadequate. Nothing seemed to be important enough, intelligent enough, or organized enough to present to other people. I was getting frustrated with myself, because a lot of the entries seemed to say the exact same thing. But, I realized, that was me identifying my struggle in whatever verse I happened to be reading that day; it was me clinging to God’s word for guidance through my battle. After another day to think about it, I think it’s important to share my (ongoing) struggle. I wrote this at the beginning of January:

Humble yourselves, therefore, under the mighty hand of God so that at the proper time He may exalt you, casting all your anxieties on Him, because He cares for you.”

1 Peter 5:6&7

This devotion was from New Year’s Day, and I missed doing it. But man, I needed this verse this morning. I realized the other day that I was letting satan tell me that certain things in my life were too small or petty to bring to God. I let him tell me that God was too big to be concerned with baby girl’s nap schedule or the piles of dishes and laundry that need to be done. I let him whisper to me that it was all up to me, that I have to get this done on my own, and that I’m not good enough [there’s that, again.]

When I came to this realization the other day, I prayed for forgiveness and for God to remind me to bring EVERYTHING to Him. A few days later, and what am I doing? I couldn’t sleep last night and was literally having a panic attack. Over what? Planning my one year old’s birthday party, mostly. I was also stressing over stuff I have to do today (long story for another day.) I finally got to sleep after midnight and then some little peanut woke up whining at 4:30. I was unreasonably angry, and then immediately felt so very guilty. After eating and going back to sleep for a couple of hours, she woke up on the wrong side of the bed, and I think, so did I! Between several minor inconveniences (i.e. I dropped my muffin in the floor) and a baby who has cried all morning, I’m so nervous and anxious that I’m shaking. Enter this passage from 1 Peter – just the reminder i had prayed for…

…baby girl woke up as I was writing yesterday and I didn’t finish. Looking back on yesterday, it got better. That 25 minute morning nap made a world of difference, and then the two and a half hour afternoon nap was exactly what she and I both needed. She got some much-needed rest, and I was able to get some work done, which made me feel like a more productive member of the family.

I honestly don’t know why I let satan tell me that certain things have to be done on my own, that they aren’t big enough or important enough to matter to the Creator who knows my every insecurity. But He does care, and He wants to carry my burdens. I have to stop listening to the whisper that tells me I don’t matter and my problems don’t matter. God cares about me and for me. In reality, my worries and anxieties are just there to distract me from God and the purpose He’s given me. God definitely wants to clear my mind of all that stuff. I need more room in there for Him and His will.

Living intentionally is something I’ve always struggled with – I’m so good at skating by with minimal effort. My word for this year is FOCUS. It doesn’t come easily to me anymore, and I’ve got to do better. I’ve got to live more intentionally, with a clear focus on God.

So, we’re nearly halfway through the year, and focus is still something I’m struggling with. A funny thing happened as I was reading my journal entries from earlier this year the other night, the same word kept popping up over and over again; if I didn’t use it every time, it sure was close to it. You know what that word was? Distraction. No matter what verse I was writing about, I somehow just kept relating it back to how satan distracts us, how we have to focus on God.

Life has changed so much since we’ve had baby girl, and I feel like I’m juggling so much. Before, all I had to worry about was me, and what I had going on – being a wife, doing my part of cooking, cleaning, etc.; working, doing Avon… that was about it. On top of all that now, I’m also a mom and have a child to worry about and everything that entails (worries and concerns included), plus, I’ve started this blog. I feel like I’m being pulled so many different directions every minute of every day. I have so many distractions. Besides praying, I’m not sure what else I can be doing to help myself with this struggle. I just keep praying for God to show me these things that are distracting me, and to make me able to see them for what they are. Obviously, looking at all these journal entries where I just keep using the word, “distraction,” I’m starting to see them. But noticing them after reflection is entirely different than noticing them in the moment. I’m doing better, but I’ve still got some work to do.

Home.

I have so many memories of breaking beans with my granny in this house, and this morning I broke beans with my baby girl in the same kitchen. Three generations have passed from my granny’s, and we’re still doing the same thing. I love how God gives us just enough continuity to be able to deal with the change that life throws at us. I also love the memories evoked by living in this house. It may look different now, but it feels the same. It feels like home. Every now and then, I have a familiar feeling rush over me as I walk through the house, and I’m five years old again. I’m spending my Friday night at my granny’s house. I’m here for Thanksgiving dinner. I’m just sitting with her and breaking beans (which I probably didn’t appreciate as a kid…)

As a married couple, we’ve lived in several different places, but none have felt so much like home to me as this house does. The sounds of birds and smells of the flowers in the yard are familiar. My heart is at rest here. I was so unsure about taking on this house. Every time I walked in after granny passed away, I cried. I couldn’t imagine living in this place that made me so sad. But, as time passed, I started to see it in a new light. The sadness turned to fondness, and with the promise of major changes to the inside aesthetic, I finally agreed that this house might make the best home for us. I’m so very glad that my heart finally caught up with my head, because this is home. This is a place that I can share memories with my family, just like I’ve always done here.

Works.

In going through some of my previous bible devotions, I found this that I wrote in March. It reminded me that I already had a heart project going on when I decided to I would finally obey and start this blog… a heart project I had started to forget about in the anxiety of publishing my words.

You believe God is One; you do well. Even the demons believe – and shudder! Do you want to be shown, you foolish person, that faith apart from works is useless?

James 2:19&20

This passage always gets me, and makes me think of The Screwtape Letters by C.S. Lewis (such a good book if you haven’t read it!) Satan himself knows that Jesus is the Son of God, that’s why he attacks us so. Evil in the purest form believes in the one true God, so when people say they believe in God, it’s not really much of a thing to say. We are called to live our lives like we believe in God. That belief should be causing us to act in some way or another.

Where I get tripped up is that when I see the word “works” in this passage, I think I need to be out in the street feeding the hungry or teaching orphans in Africa – and if that is what God lays on my heart, then by all means, I should. However, I forget that it also just means action. How am I living differently than I would otherwise because I believe? Do I have a joy that the world can’t take away? Do I see God as Lord of all, and therefore use my time to praise His name? Do I take comfort that His plan is better when something’s not going the way I think it should? Do I use the talents and abilities He has given me to glorify Him in my day to day life? “Works” aren’t just these grandiose gestures that I usually think of, they are faith in action in our everyday lives. It’s living like we believe, not just saying we do.

Lately, after feeling like I’m not giving God my absolute all, I’ve been praying for Him to show me what I’m holding back. I think I assumed it was one big thing I was holding on to, but He’s been showing me all sorts of little daily things that I keep forgetting to hand over. My work is definitely one of these things, but it has been even smaller aspects like [Baby Girl’s] sleeping habits and what we’re going to have for dinner. I think I just assume that these things are too small for God to waste His time with, and that I can handle them myself. However, these small things are the very things satan uses to get in my head, to tell me I’m not good enough. So, they are definitely things I should be handing over to God, because He wants it all – even the [maybe not so] little things.

I’ve gotten distracted lately by focusing on giving God this big thing (my blog), and have forgotten once again to hand over every seemingly minute aspect of my life. Because of this, I can once again feel satan wedging in, using these tiny worries I have to give me big anxieties and insecurities. I can tell that I’m not giving God my all, only a small, specific portion of my life that I have divided out just for Him. This is a scary realization, and I pray that He makes me more aware of the times I try to “go it alone.”