caution: truth to be told here

this is my real life. my only life. my good life. why do i spend so much time wishing i had more, was more, lived more? or is it that i was less- less dramatic, less stressed, less tired, less of it all. 

this is going to be a pretty real, not hiding a lot post and i hope that y'all can feel me and not take this as a cry for anything other than to face the facts that i am not the only person who feels this way. i'm not the only woman to have a baby then find her body unrecognizable. i am not the only person to feel like no matter how hard they try, it will never be enough, and that its easier to not try. this is a reality and a struggle that will most likely not make sense to some of you. but to others- this will be your reality, too. and for that reason i will be vulnerable.

ever since i had Henry i have felt those twinges of feeling like my body should be back to normal, or back to my cute little hugh school self with legs for miles and a metabolism that could fight fat quicker than thought possible. as i grew up, i faced those moments of feeling like i should look a certain way, but they never bothered me truly until after i had a baby and saw my body change dramatically and quickly. like i couldnt bounce back as quick as normal, or quickly at all. the beginning was okay, then slowly i began to realize that it was harder and harder to fight that fat. 

all i wanted to do at nap time was catch up on "one tree hill" or just sit in the silence for a minute. working out was a chore, not a pastime. and meal times came between tantrums, grocery shopping, and cleaning which meant meals for me were an apple for lunch if i was lucky and maybe some McDonalds for dinner while baby was asleep in the car. not healthy.

now- i want change. i want my husband to see me as stunning. i want to stop seeing myself in the mirror and not really look. i want to have the energy to bust through errands and meal prep to set myself up for success. i want to see myself as the Lord sees me- as a daughter, as a beauty, as someone who is worth it all. and i want to believe those things more than anything.

so here begins my journey. not to lose weight just to say i could and not eat to prove i can. i want to push myself. i want discipline. and i want to feel the way my son deserves to have his mom feel- energized, playful, happy and healthy.

welcome to the hopeful beginning, all. 

hunger

I'm hungry.

But not the type of hungry that makes me want to eat  (though anything chocolatey sounds pretty good right about now...). No its the kind of hunger that makes me realize an emptiness that needs filling. A space that feels void, but not really knowing how to make it disappear. I spend my days spending money on things, just lots of things, that fill this space for a moment. Yesterday it was a new, pretty shower curtain (funny how small things can matter like that!) and a Type A breakdown of my laundry and weekly goals chart. 

I try.

I make meal plans.

I grocery shop.

I plan out the days.

and the weeks.

and the months.

I clean up the toys

and I clean up the dishes.

But at the end of the day the emptiness is still there, waiting, hoping to be filled. 

Very gradually I am learning that all these things are not what my heart desires. Only after I spend my time in truth and the Word will I feel the emptiness make its way out of my hours, then my days, then my heart.

Holy Ground

I found a reason to be happy today. I mean- I know I have more than I could count, but today I found one right before my eyes. You see, we recently got an iPod dock for our kitchen and I am diggin' it. Anyone who knows me knows that I love having music on all hours of the day. Getting ready isn't the same unless theres an awesome Pandora station in the background setting the mood for the day. So its become a new joy and semi tradition to have music playing while I am cooking dinner and Henry is in the high chair in the kitchen with me. On tonights iPod: Taylor Swift, Red ablum. mmm. Now thats a way to make dinner! So the song Holy Ground came on and of course, I started dancing (go listen to that song and try NOT to dance around the room.) Its nothing weird to see me dancing randomly, but tonight I realized how much Henry loved it. I was spinning, shaking, and boogeying away and I looked over to see him laughing and clapping. What joy! I realized in that moment that this is the person I want my son to know and love- the one who stops in the middle of making dinner to dance and sing with him. Not the one who powers through the day only to realize missed opportunities when all the pitter patter of feet have gone to their bedtime dreaming. I know there will be those days, I just hope and pray that there are more moments of forgetting the schedule and dancing in the kitchen together than speeding through an agenda. And I hope the same for you all, too!

the voice of truth

I'm starting to realize that music seriously speaks to my soul. I know its kinda late in the game to be coming to this conclusion, but regardless its becoming more and more clear. Take last night for instance. I was just casually making dinner for my one (!) year old little man and all of a sudden "I wanna dance with somebody" by Whitney comes on. All of a sudden he and I have transported to a full blown night club in the 80s and he laughs his sweet belly laugh while I spin and twirl around the kitchen like a crazy lady. Moments later another song can inspire me to create, design, draw, or even run and get a Master's degree. Truly. I think I have a problem... 

The reason this all came about was because I had a person very close to me hurt my heart this weekend. As I was so overjoyed with celebrating my sweet little boy, this person brought me down to a place where I felt bad about who I was unnecessarily. I have struggled with not feeling good enough for people for a long time. It draws me into a place where I second guess, get stuck in my head, and can't relax in my relationships. It has been a true struggle for me and something I have long tried to overcome. This person doesn't know this about me and therefore flung words with zero understanding of how they would hit my heart. I spent the weekend sulking, angry for the way I felt and why I knew they were wrong. It affected my day that was meant to celebrate my son and in a way that truly angered me. I felt myself in the same place of feeling like just because I heard the words she said, it somehow meant I had to accept them as truth.

Wrong.

This morning as I was driving my crying boy to Grammys (he was truly only comforted if I reached in the backseat and let him snuggle with my hand against his forehead.. It was so cute that I just drive one handed the whole way!) a song came on. I was strolling through the stations and landed on this one by chance and heard a song I hadn't heard in years- Voice of Truth by Casting Crowns. It spoke to my heart in a way I truly needed.

Oh what I would do to have

The kind of faith it takes to climb out of this boat I'm in

Onto the crashing waves

To step out of my comfort zone

To the realm of the unknown where Jesus is

And He's holding out his hand

But the waves are calling out my name and they laugh at me

Reminding me of all the times I've tried before and failed

The waves they keep on telling me

Time and time again. 'Boy, you'll never win!'"You'll never win"

But the voice of truth tells me a different story

And the voice of truth says "Do not be afraid!"

And the voice of truth says "This is for My glory"

Out of all the voices calling out to me I will choose to listen and believe the voice of truth

So thats what I'm doing today. Listening to the voice of Truth. Not those spoken unknowingly or with tongues of fire. Letting myself rest in that truth and find comfort in who HE knows I am.

So thankful for that.

amen

We will have love, will have pain.
There will be days and days and days that feel the same.
We will have fears, we will have joy,
and maybe little girls and little boys.
We will have friends,
We will have peace,
There will be nights of lights and music till you sleep.
We will be strong but we will still break.
We'll live through so much more than we could take.

Amen
With the dawn it all begins again.
Amen amen
What is done and yet to come amen.



Loving the truth of these words today.

The time when my life became someone else's for a minute.

Wow. Where do I start?

This past few days has been incredibly overwhelming in some pretty awesome ways. I am kind of laughing at myself in my previous post because obviously, I was looking for more in life. More adventure. More time with my husband. More than just nights at home catching up on "New Girl," which I am shamelessly doing as we speak, while my sweet almost one year old practices his new walking skills in his crib rather than going to sleep....

It started innocently enough. My husband, Paul, auditioned for Wheel of Fortune, made it through, and in July 2013 he and his BFF made the trek to Vegas for the show taping. Now, I received a call soon after the show was finished, and Paul explained to me what had happened. He has mispronounced a fully spelled out word, and had then lost the potential for $1 Million dollars (which makes my heart stop thinking about it) as well as about $2,400. All in all not a huge deal because we truly didn't expect much at all to come of this. We kept saying beforehand how cool it would be to pay off the car, or get a down payment for a little home. Paul works a second job on the side of his Fire Fighting career so that I can stay home with our little man, so a little chunk of change to us really goes along way in the dreaming department!

So the time came to watch the show. Our friends and family gathered together and got to experience it all first hand, while Paul closed his eyes in the back. I truly think he was gearing up for the mean texts or facebook comments that would come from this, making fun of such a silly mistake. What he got was so different and really made me realize what awesome people my husband surrounds himself with. He was getting encouragement for how unfair it seemed, and that they didn't even hear a mistake. He felt built up and as though people were going to let it all go.

Then, we woke up the next morning and it all changed! I had woken up early to spend time with a friend and Paul called with new that literally made my heart stop for a split second. The youtube video someone posted had made national news, and moments later Good Morning America called. WHAT? GMA stalked my husband (we've decided not to question how so many people got our numbers...and our parents numbers....and battalion chief's number...). They wanted him for an interview- in my home!! And seconds later, there was CNN wanting Paul to do a Portland-based interview the next morning. Now, to be fair, my dream was always Ellen. This whole morning my friends and I were talking and we kept saying- "maybe Ellen will call!! I hope Ellen calls! Do you think she's seen it?!" I am an incredibly huge fan of Ellen's and the fact that this was even something she would see was blowing my frazzled mind! We were so thrilled and honestly believed this was as far as it would go. I mean how much bigger can it get, right?

Wrong.

After picking my sister up, so she could feverishly storm my house and "clean" with me, (I say clean in quotations because I am fairly certain that gathering up the multitudes of crap- shoes, baby toys, laundry, and dishes strewn about and throwing them into the garage doesn't count as cleaning as much as hiding evidence of my inability to keep up with my child...) I walked in the door to a whole new surprise. Paul looked at me and said "pack up your bags, Linds. Were heading to New York city! There is a very good possibility I passed out at this point, but I ran around the house packing myself, Paul and Henry for his sleepovers with grandparents and still made the house look somewhat presentable for the GMA crew. And just like that, 24 hours after the Wheel was seen for the first time, we were jet setting on a red eye to the Big Apple and laughing at the craziness of it all the whole time.

So heres the part where we are in NYC:

First things first, we head straight from the airport at 5:45 am to the CNN studios and are welcomed by the sweetest girls ever. CNN was the crew that flew us out and were putting us up in NY and we were just so excited to be there. After a little makeup for Paul, he headed out to the show and was taping a live interview within two hours of being in NY. He did so awesome and I even got to sit in the control room with headphones and watch the whole thing. Unfortunately, I looked like one of those sewer "mice"/ huge freakin' rats that run across your toes in Central Park and finally got to change into real people's clothes just in time for a picture with the awesome show hosts.

At this point we only had CNN and Jimmy Fallon on the menu for our time in the city, but that soon changed. As we were getting ready to leave CNN and head to the hotel (and moments after the stunning Miss America walked into the green room!!!), we got a text from a producer from Bethenny Frankel's show!! Now, of course Paul didn't know what this show was and was probably going to say no, as he had to a couple other shows. But, luckily her producer also copied me in the text and I am fairly certain I texted back with a calm, yet dying-on-the-inside-can-she-tell-I-am-going-to-pass-out polite yes and just like that, we were booked for the next day.

On the way to our hotel, another call came: the Today show. ahhh. I watch this show every morning with Henry and was literally dying. Unfortunately, Jimmy Fallon had asked that we not do anymore TV until his show and Today show agreed, but they did let us tour the studio! We happened to run into, and take some awesome pictures with, Gisele Bundchen and Carson Daly and walked right past Savannah. I was in star heaven and we so enjoyed that time. And after heading back to our hotel to freshen up, we even had time for a carriage ride in Central Park!

Jimmy Fallon heaven

That evening we got all dressed up and headed to the taping for Jimmy Fallon [enter swooning here]. We showed up to an awesome dressing room with Paul's name on the door- fully stocked with yummy treats and NY specialty cookies and truffles. And we even had a page, just like in 30 Rock! The whole place truly looked like we were on 30 Rock- it was awesome. After being there and spending time with the super nice writers and bookers, Jimmy Fallon walked right by after rehearsals, stopped and did a double take to Paul, and came right over to shake it hand saying "Paul, dude! We are so happy you're here!! We have all watched the video and you seriously got robbed! We love you!" and fun things like that. He was so so sweet. And we even got pictures with him later!

Now, the guest that evening was Hugh Jackman [enter even more swooning here....] and we were so excited. His dressing room was 2 doors down and we were expecting a quick wave then to really not chat with him much after. Another wrong! When he walked in I looked over and must have been awkwardly staring, because he came right up to me! He shook my hand and said "Hello, I'm Hugh" and I ever so nonchalantly replied "Hi, I'm Lindsay....I'm umm....I'm nobody..." COOL. Way to go, Linds. That wasn't weird or anything. He shook Paul's hand and really sweetly asked why we were here [a question we got a lot haha. They were all so nice about it but I think people wanted to know what the hell we were doing there!!]. Paul explained the You Tube viral video and he said he would watch. Well, about 5 minutes later Hugh came into our dressing room yelling "You were robbed!!" He chatted with us for about 10 minutes, took photos with us and even has one of him and Paul on his phone! He tweeted that Paul was robbed- I couldn't believe it!! On his phone is a photo of my husband! And, I even taught him a cool trick about how to get to your camera easier on your phone. I got to hold his phone and everything. So I pretty much spent that entire evening looking like someone had shoved a coat hanger in my mouth. And- we even got a Corner Curio Cabinet from Jimmy Fallon filled with awesome goods! This evening with forever be a highlight of my life and Paul and I are in continuous disbelief.

We spent the evening later at an awesome dinner with my BFF and hubby, and then some Tasti D-Lite in Times Square. So fun.

Bethenny!!

So we had spent some time during our first day there with Bethenny's awesome producer and were so excited for her show the next morning! When we got there we had the cutest dressing room and both our names we on the door. That can only mean one thing- I get to be on the show too! At this point I turned into the giddiest little girl you've ever seen and spent about 4 hours that day speaking way too high pitched and trying desperately to contain my smiling and squealing. Luckily, the producers who spent the day hanging out with us were SO fun and completely allowed and encouraged my squealing, so that was great. It was truly like spending a day with awesome friends and we completely enjoyed that experience. They even brought be back for hair and makeup like someone who is actually cool! I died.

When it was time to go on the show I got so nervous. I had to pee like crazy, yawned even though i wasn't tired, and couldn't drink water because of my lipstick, but somehow felt as parched as if I were in a desert. Yikes. But the show was so fun, so much energy and Bethenny was the sweetest. Oh, and the 7 day all expenses trip to Antigua doesn't hurt! Seriously, we have spent today looking at the resort and are so excited to go on this trip. We would never do anything even close to something like this for ourselves, but its always been a dream. I know that trip will be one of the high lights of our life together.

Now, were home.

And life is good. I loved coming home to my sweet baby boy who I missed so much. And I love that I so enjoy my life, that coming home from a high like that isn't sad. We feel so so blessed- I honestly can't even describe how blessed we feel. This experience as a whole was so life changing in the smallest ways and we just can't get over the opportunities we have had. We are very thankful to everyone who played a part in the last few days and feel so overcome with support and love.

Its still overwhelming to me that any of this happened because it seems like it would be someone else's life. But here we are, having lived it ourselves, and feel so blessed because of it.

Hope y'all enjoyed this way long synopsis!

more than just getting by

do you ever get those feelings where you feel trapped and out of breath, belly churning with anxiety, yet at the same time you feel untethered and disconnected? its strange how you can feel two completely opposite emotions at the same point in time. thats where my heart is- disconnected but smothered in a way. its one of those things where you feel like a day in your favorite place on the planet (aka Wildhorse Canyon) could cure your soul- but you know deep down that its more than that.

life is so big. its scary, and you never know whats around the next turn. but its beautiful in that as well- and i want to live that beauty. i want to be unafraid and live unashamed. without over-anazyling, constantly in my head, hearing the lies but refusing to believe the truths. life is beautiful, and i want that beauty to permeate from my heart. and i feel such sadness when i realize the reality too often is that we just need to get by. to get through the day. to simply survive.

but where is the beauty in that? 

beauty is in the messy living room because the baby is having so much fun. it is in the pizza for dinner because the adventurous recipe was a little tricky. beauty is a date night at costco because thats all the budget allows. its when jumping on the bed with a toddler is way more fun than getting ready for work. when you push bedtime a bit just to get those extra sleepy baby kisses.

i don't know about you- but i prefer that life than just "getting through the day"

isnt it beautiful

isn't it beautiful

the way we fall apart.

its magical and tragic,

all the ways we break our hearts.

so unpredictable,

were comfortably miserable.

we think we're invincible, completely unbreakable

and maybe we are.

but isnt it beautiful

the way we fall apart.

In July of 2011 I wrote this post. (Keep in mind that blog has gone long untamed...but the post still speaks the heart :) )

I was thinking back to that moment today and realized that once again I am sitting here snuggled up, listening to Bethany Dillon and trying all over again to heal a breaking heart. Whats interesting is both times, though my heart was breaking, there was joy exuding from it as well. Because here I am now, once again saying goodbye via blog post, tears, and prayer, to someone I loved and cherished. My sweet, feisty great grandmother went to be with the Lord today. You heard me right- GREAT grandmother. How lucky am I that I got to spend so much of her 93 years on earthing learning from her and loving her. I will always remember and cherish greatly the memories I have of our time spent at her LaPine home. How she always stuffed us with creamcicles and her famous pistachio pudding. I can picture all of the photos and art work in her house. I can smell the nail polish that she kept in her fridge and spent many nights painting my sister's and my nails. Its strange how many memories come to your mind and heart when someone you love leaves this world. Its almost like I am sitting there on my grandpa's lap, stealing cough drops out of his shirt pockets, as my grandma turns on "where the red fern grows" for the 15th time. And now my heart breaks because she never got to meet her great great grandchildren.

 She was a generation all her own and today that entire generation of my family has left, so suddenly and quietly. And as I got off the phone with my mother and let the news sink into my soul, I looked around at everyone driving by, going on with their day, this moment not affecting them. I listen to Henry babbling on in the back seat, unaware of this person who just left his world. The 2nd half of the couple where he got his middle name. A person he never got to meet.

Then my mind wanders to the place where my heart was as I wrote the previous post years ago. Realizing the beauty in death- that our loved ones have found each other and rejoice as they heal and celebrate. The realization that she is with my great grandpa, joy in their eyes and love in their hearts. 

And I let it sink in: she did get to meet my baby. Not the one I snuggled to sleep tonight, but the one who left my heart and belly two years ago. The one I will never forget, yet never held. And the one that waits earnestly for his family to enter the joyous gates of Heaven. This line from "Heaven is For Real" always made my heart melt into a puddle:

“Mom- she is okay mom. She’s happy. She prays for you and watches you. She wanted to me tell you she loves you and can’t wait for you and daddy to be with her in Heaven.”

My baby is in heaven, waiting for me and watching over me. And today, my sweet, sweet grandmother left this world and joined him. How could that not bring joy to tearfilled eyes?

a hearts prayer

My heart is feeling overly heavy the last few weeks. Like drowning in the sorrow and hurt around me is not far off. It sounds uber dramatic- I'm fully aware- but its the truth that my heart feels right now. Long ago during our Young Life Bible study years, we were told to expose the lies our hearts have been told over and over, and combat them with the truth about why the Lord has created us that way. I will always remember the lie I wrote down, simply because its something I have fought and still feel weighed down by in my adult years: 

I am too much. Too much to handle. Too much to love. Too much to understand. 

I wrote that down with the unfortunate confidence that this truth has taken over my heart. I will always remember what my best friend said when she peeked over and saw my card:

"Linds, you aren't too much- you just care a lot."

Its been an ongoing joke the last ten years, but the truth is that my heart carries the weight and heaviness of those around me. And honestly- thats something I am okay with. I wish there was no sadness or brokenness, but since there is- I am glad to carry those burdens so that I may share the load with those I love. And this past month I wish I could take that load fully and carry it on my own. With pain, suffering, sadness and broken hearts all around me, I want nothing more than to absorb that hurt to free these loved ones. 

My heart is burdened. My heart is saddened. My heart is trying to find answers. But most of all, my heart is prayerful.

Judgey Judgey

I was embarrassed by a little girl the other day. Like... maybe 10 years old. I'm still not too proud of myself for the way my heart reacted- even a week later. Here's how it went down:

Henry (8 1/2 months) and I were out at the fountain near our house playing and splashing in the water...with about 25 of our neighborhood children. It was chaotic to say the least. I was holding Henry under the armpits as he splashed and played along. Up walks a little girl who looks at Henry and starts flirting. This is nothing new, as my son is pretty freaking adorable. Anyway- She asked if he was able to walk on his own. I sweetly said "no, not yet! He's learning though! He's still learning to crawl!" I thought this was a normal response and figured she had no idea at what age babies walked anyway. But- the little lady looked at me with some serious judgement and stated:

"My cousin is ten months and shes walking."

ugh. The dreaded comparison and judgement based of what your child is doing. Yes, this was a little girl, but I feel like this has been a constant in my new motherhood life since Hank was born. And its so sad because I feel like moms do this all the time. I wonder if we are so worried about our kids and their progress that we feel the need to constantly compare and point out ways our little one is more advanced. Or if we see our parenting as the best and most obvious way to raise babies. Regardless- it breaks my mommy heart. Because we, as mothers, should be building each other up- not judging based on whether a mom put sunscreen on diligently enough. Its sad, really. A few things I hear around parks and pediatrician waiting rooms:

"Oh, you aren't breastfeeding anymore? Are you sure you tried everything?"

"Wow- 15 months and you're still breastfeeding.... that seems long..."

"You don't make your own baby food?"

"You still rock her to sleep?"

"Here's what you should do..."

I wish we could put a stop to this momma drama. I struggled with breastfeeding from day one- and I am incredibly happy I was able to make it to 6 months. For me- that was a victory. But I consistently felt I had to justify myself in certain settings. I still feel that way. And giving up breastfeeding was hardest mainly because I felt that I was letting Henry down. Not necessarily because of the actual act of giving him formula rather the breast milk, but based on the fact that everyone said its was I should be doing. But once I stopped- I was able to be a more relaxed mother. And Henry has been just fine. I don't think we should label moms, put them in boxes, or throw anymore judgement their way. After all- aren't we just doing the best we can?

they fill my heart with gladness

I have had the privilege of knowing these wonderful women since we were 12 years old. We were just babies then. Our biggest stressor was which homeroom class we would get placed in, whether one of the Justins had a crush on us, and whose house we would spend the night at after the football game. We have faced real life together- tough life. We have gone through hardships, sadness, breakups, and failed pregnancies. We have also gone through the amazing things- watching our lives change as we meet our real loves, celebrating a new beginning with some beautiful weddings, and watching each one of us find our way and follow our dreams. Now- we get the enjoy the excitement of expanding bellies and expanding families. I am so blessed by these women and cannot believe how long we have gotten to be in each other's lives! Here's to many more years of blessings and growth.

Where do I call home? Hillsboro, Oregon

I wanted to connect with The Influence Network link up about where I am from. Its a small story, not one with a lot of fuss or excitement, but one that has brought me and my little family to a place we call home.

I lived in Reno, Nevada until 4th grade, then moved to Portland, Oregon. Hubby has lived in Hillsboro (a little farm town-turned suburb outside Portland) since he was little. We both went outside the city for college and spent most of our teen years in the Portland area. When we got married, we wanted to leave town, maybe go to a whole new state and try something different. Hillsboro is the furthest we got! My husband started volunteer fire fighting in Hillsboro, so we ended up staying longer than we wanted. Now I am in love with this little town. We live downtown where we walk to the farmers market every weekend, hit-up my neighborhood starbucks like its my day job (which it kind of is now that I stay home with the baby...) and know our neighbors as friends. We're a good 1/2 hour from family, but its home to us and a place we will most likely stay for a while.

Thanks for listening to my first ever link-up!

God Made a Mother

I got this wonderful blog off a friend's post today and it made my heart swell. I all of a sudden was able to understand and appreciate the late night cries from a sweet baby, simply asking to be rocked to sleep. The never ending feeling of being so needed by another little human. The smiles and laughter that can fill my heart enough to last a lifetime. As hard as it sometimes may be, I am forever grateful for the gift of being a mother. My heart prays for and aches for those who have a mother's heart but no baby yet to love. God made a mother -dear friends- and you are one of them. So thankful for all the sweet mommas I know and have the privilege of watching as they grow their families.

So, sure, there was this talk of The Giving Tree –

but there wasn’t one of us who didn’t know all along it was you, The Giving Mother.

You who leaned over a stove and stirred and let spices fall like leaves and you ladled and we slurped and it would be remembered when we were old, the meatballs that you shaped and the noodles on Sunday nights with the Magi and how you wiped your hands on your apron slow.

The Giving Mother who lets us take up whole places inside of you, who keeps making spaces, who never stops making spaces, growing soft and round, stretching thinner and growing fuller, your hearts and hips widening with a widening grace.

I never get over the shade of you, the grace of you, the limbs of you, the God-made Giving Tree —

Because God needed someone to love the least and the little into real whole people, and He knew that to love is to suffer so God made a mother.

God had said –

I need someone to get up at midnight and scoop the most fragile of humanity close to her warmth and rock though she can hardly stand and nourish though she’s mostly sleep-starved and change the diaper and the sheets and the leaked on, leaked through, and leaked down clothes though she’ll have to change them in the morning and next week and that won’t change for years.

So God made a Mother.

That God had said I need somebody with a strong heart.

Strong enough for toddler tantrums and teenage testing, yet broken enough to fall on her knees and pray, pray, pray.

Someone who knows that in every hard place is exactly where you extend grace, who looks a hopeful child in the eye and says yes, even though she knows every yes means a mess but this is how you bless, who has the courage to keep letting go because she’s holding on to Me.

So God made a mother.

God said I need somebody who can shape a soul and find shoes on Sunday mornings and get grass stains out of Levis.

And make dinner out of nothing and do it again 79, 678 times, and keep kids off the road and out of the toilet and in clean underwear and mainly alive though she’s mainly losing her mind and will put in an 80 hour week by Wednesday night and just do one more load of laundry.

And one more sink of crusted burnt pots.

And keep on going another eighty hours because raising generations matters and weaving families matters and tying heart strings matters and these people here in hidden places matter.

So God made a mother…

It had to be somebody who could comb back pigtails and tie up skates just-right tight.

Who could pretend she remembered algebra and how to get home from here and that really, she was just fine, that it must just be the silly onions.

Somebody who would run for the catch, jump on a trampoline and play one fierce game of soccer and not give a thought to all those labors and her weak pelvic floor. Somebody who’d stay up late with a science project that never ends, who’d get up early for the game in the rain, somebody who’d wave at the door until the taillights were out of sight and still be smiling brave.

So God made a mother.

It had to be somebody willing to keep loving when it made no sense because that’s what love does.

Somebody who knew that life is not an emergency but a gift — so just. slow. down. There are children at play here and we don’t want anyone to get hurt and the hurry makes us hurt.

Somebody willing to feed and lead, lay down her life and pick up her cross, give of her time because they have her heart. Someone who knows that we all blow it — and what matters is what we then do after.

Someone who could humble herself into the tender sorry that covers a multitude of sins.

Someone who would live like a Giving Tree — who would would give grace, give life, and give thanks —  eucharisteo:  the giving thanks for every grace that gives back always joy.

Someone who would stand in the mess and the midst and give thanks anyways — becauseeucharisteo always, always, precedes the miracle of discovering that the Giver Himself is always, always more than enough.

Someone who would live it a thousand times: Give thanks — and discover that the Giver Himself is the Gift and He alone is always, always enough.

Someone who would pour out and bend down and surrender not only to the physical pain of childbirth but the far deeper, unending heart pain of letting go, letting go, letting go –  from the womb, from the arms, from the front door. Someone who would know that umbilical cords can be cut — but heart strings never can.

Someone who’d bow her head at night over the girl sleeping with the doll in the crook of her arm — and give thanks to her Father for this hidden life that’s turning a gear for the whole spinning world.

So God made a mother.

You.

The Giving Mother, made by God to be a safe shelter….

with your roots dipping like lines into aquifers to siphon love up out of the caving cup of His hands.

His hands …. and those always underneath, everlasting arms holding us all.

do not harden your hearts

When I look into this face- I see my future. I see my life and the little person who that life revolves around. I see him experiencing the joy running barefoot on grass, learning to say "momma" and walking into his kindergarten classroom, oversized backpack in tow. That face causes me to melt into a mommy puddle on the floor, and it also makes me jump into serious "would-do-anything-to-keep-you-safe" mode. Literally- the second I met the smallest man to steal my heart I knew my life would never be the same and that I would put myself in the most dangerous situation just to keep him out of it. Now, for me, thats a big deal. I am pretty scared of...well..everything. Elevators, bridges, rollercoasters, planes, grizzly men in trench coats, etc. But- when it comes to my sweet Henry- I would take an elevator to the top of a bridge and live there next to a man in a trench coat if it meant keeping him safe.

Last night, as my husband and I were catching up on the overwhelmingly shocking bombings in Boston, I told him that I now question whether I want to go to big, crowded places such as parades, the Super Bowl, even Disney Land. And what he said was so true. He told me: "then they win." How obvious. Looking at the pictures of the women crying, men carrying little kids to an ambulance, and people desperately seeking out their friends, I realize this is the reaction they wanted. The sadness. The future fears. The realization that we aren't as safe as we believe. I don't want them to win- to give them that hold on my life.

When Henry gets older and we experience our safety being compromised, I pray that I can talk to him about not giving the reaction these terrible people want. I know there is fear- but what I mean is the future worries. The strongholds that can be placed on our hearts when we are scared. I pray I can help him learn to see the good in the horribly ugly: people helping carry others to safety after having just run a marathon. Those putting their address on the internet for all the world to see so that people can seek solace and comfort in a home. I pray his heart would not be hardened and untrusting- but that he would still reach out to others and love with all he has- fearful or not.

My heart breaks for our country and the happenings in this world. If I allow it- the fear can be overwhelming and paralyzing. But- Its not about just me anymore. Its about teaching my son to see the world as a place to love on others and opening his heart to what life has to offer. To not give in to the fear that can bear down on a heart, not allowing it to flourish in the way God has intended. To live his life as a boy who has placed his heart in the hands of Jesus and trusting enough to be a light in a dark, dark world.

a little tuesday encouragement

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the truth about having a baby

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Everyone tells you that once you have a baby everything changes. They are right- you get less sleep, darker bags under your eyes, and date night changes from dinner and a movie out to whispering in bed before falling asleep by 9. Not all changes are bad. I have had more joy in my days in the last 6 months than I ever have before. After the initial "oh my- its too early to be awake," I look into my smiling baby's morning eyes and wonder what the day will hold. Will he learn to crawl today? Will he perfect his posture while sitting and chewing on a toy? Will he capture my heart with his belly laugh while I spend a good 1/2 hour making faces and silly noises? Man, I love this kid. But- the downside of this love is the immense fear that comes along with it. I hear the news reports of babies being shot in Chicago, parents that lose their cool and shake their little newborn, and yes- the Newtown, Connecticut school shooting that left me paralyzed with fear for weeks. No one tells you about that part. They don't say that you hold your breath every time you walk out the door without them or that you'll spend the first 3 months of their life watching them as they sleep to make sure their breaths are even.  And they don't tell you how much deeper your love can go- how the moment you see this little face you know full well that you would take a bullet for this stranger you met only seconds before. Oh this little man. I suppose the fear is worth the incredible love that comes along with it.

woah, daddy

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One of the best things I have done in my life is snagging my catch of a husband. Really- without him I wouldn't be living this wonderful life, with this wonderful baby who has stolen my heart. Paul has always been a great husband to me and I honestly consider myself incredibly lucky. He is a better person than me- no doubt. He is kind, loving, patient, never raises his voice, laughs with his whole heart, and really cares about people. He makes me laugh on a daily basis. Every time we get gas he buys coffee or gatorade for the attendant. He even knows that the gas station attendant we see most often had a trip planned to Mexico- but it was canceled because he and his wife split up. Who knows those intimate details about a man you see three or four times a month? It always amazes me. And of course I am sitting in the car saying "come on, Paul! We're running late!" He gently reminds me that no where we are going is worth missing the chance to love on someone. What a good man. 

But- I think more than anything- Paul is an amazing dad. I fell in love with him ten times more when I watched his hovering over a crying Henry as the nurse changed his diaper in the hospital, knowing he could do it better. He loves this kid. He is constantly taking time to throw him in the air. He gets the best giggles out of Henry before bed time! I love that my son really knows his dad. When Henry was a newbown, Paul would burp him and cuddle, and when I would come down from my 5 minute shower or finally brushing my teeth that day and reach for my sweet baby, Paul would literally not give him to me! It was his turn and he was taking full advantage of the sweet moments he got with his brand new son. He really is such a joy to Paul, and that warms my heart. So even more than Paul being the husband of my dreams- he is the father I know Henry is blessed to have. I am overjoyed to see how this relationship continues to grow. I know it will include countless trips to Home Depot, lots of wrestling and rough play moms just don't understand and baseball games galore. Now I am left to wonder just how much trouble they will get in together....

Giving Her Grace

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I recently did some serious spring cleaning. I didn't even mean to- it was truly by accident. You see, my little man (5 months) was down for a nap and I figured I would get a few things done while I had a minute. He hasn't  always been an awesome napper so I thought I had 45 minutes at the most. Well- fast forward 2 1/2 hours (!) and I had completely revamped our closet! Goodbye old pre-pregnancy t-shirts that have yet to come off the shelves since baby. Adios old way-too-short pajama bottoms. And yes, see you later husbands t-shirts that he just cant get rid of, yet hasn't worn in 2 years. Its amazing the things you can get done in 2 1/2 hours when you work as though you only have a small chunk of time! So freeing... Anyways- I found an old box of pictures from my freshman and sophomore years of college. Best time of my younger years, for sure. I was carefree, experiencing a whole new phase of life, making life long friends, and hopelessly in love with my now husband. And you know what- that happiness showed in my face. I was perfectly tanned, had a cute figure, and my smile was wide. I miss her! Fast forward 7 years and my tan is non-existant, my little figure is now plagued with pregnancy stretch marks and big ol' hips, and my smile has a little more hesitancy behind it. Maybe I have just grown up and see the world from a whole different view now, but regardless, I missed the girl in those pictures. I missed feeling beautiful just waking up. I missed being carefree, with school being my biggest responsibility. And I missed that feeling of dating my husband, rather than fitting in some chats about finances, baby and schedules before drifting off into a deep sleep by 9 pm. Now, I don't dislike my life- in fact I am incredibly content with where I am in life now. Rather- I miss how I felt in those days. I feel like I have let myself down.

Then- I realized- I need to give that girl some grace. The girl who meal plans, budgets, changes diapers, makes dinner, plans date night, and keeps life afloat. I need to remind her that she can still be that carefree girl she was 8 years ago. I need to give her grace to be the woman God has created her to be and live the beautiful life He has blessed her with. Afterall- she needs all the grace she can get!