Flash

Yesterday I had a flash.

Sort of like a firework behind my eyes, only I couldn't see it. I just knew that one moment my mind was dark and the next, truth seemed to be exploding and shining light into the dim places.

It was one of those afternoons when the dread of "out of control" was washing over me.

I was hunting for a piece of paper.

To make a list.

Or four lists.

Or maybe just to make a note of "be better at everything" lest I forget that I'm not living up to my unrealistic and unholy expectations of myself.

One particular relationship in our house has been draining me for weeks. I was tired and worn out by the frustration and consumed by a "fix." The kind of consumed where your mind can't rest. You start by thinking about the problem. And thinking and thinking about it. Then you urge yourself to find a solution so you aren't just one of those perpetual whiners. But your search for a solution takes you on a bumpy road, filled with potholes and signs that bear all of your insecurities and paint in bright colors the fears that YOU, in fact, are the source of the frustration to begin with. So if you want to fix it, you have to start by knocking yourself all to pieces and then rebuild yourself as a new, in control woman.

Control.

When I get flustered, I want control.

I want a list to tell me how to get that control.

To make order.

To own and manipulate.

As I simultaneously lamented my failures and clung to the abilities that I believed could put me back into a sense of controlled, or controlling, well-being, I had the flash.

I realized that when I am overcome by a weight of "out of control" it means that I have tried to take something that is not mine.

When I can't settle into my life and relax in the ebb and flow of my days, it means that I have abandoned what has been very specially planned and saved for me while I'm on this earth and traded it for a heavy, impossible load.

When I take something that belongs in God's hands, and try to trap it into my own, I upset the balance of my relationship with the Creator.

It should come as no surprise that I feel out of control.

I never had control.

And in actuality, it sure sounds a lot better to know that someone who is everywhere and knows everything and can do anything is the one who is leading this pony.

Why on earth would I actively choose to spend my days in a frenzy, making lists to tell me what to do, how to change, what to stop and what to start? Why not, instead, when I feel that so-very-strong temptation to take something that is not mine, could I not realize what I've done and open my hands immediately.

My temptation, when feeling unsettled, is to curl up into a tight ball and hold what I think is mine close to my chest with my body ridged and weary around it. Who would have imagined that the solution would be instead to expand and stretch and open my arms to allow all that is not mine, all that I should have not tried to control in the first place, to go. To be in someone else's hands. To be in the hands of one much more capable than I.

Can I tell you, when I realized this, I was in my bathroom. I was trying to catch my breath and find my bearings and trying to shake off the soul-crushing weight of being a failure at making my life fit into my skewed understanding of "good."

I saw the pop of light and watched the little trickles of glitter fall over my weary mind and my heart that was bruised by the heavy load I had been trying to hold.

I made a decision to open my hands and drop my list and believe that God loves me.

When I left the bathroom, the difficulties were still there.

But so was peace.

I haven't fixed anything. The things that were hard before I went into the bathroom are still hard. The difference is, I feel more agile and sure footed when walking this trail.

The difference is, when I look at the trouble, I don't need to fix it.

My breath comes easily, in and out, trusting that as I take the time to breathe, God is caring, and participating, and holding all that is his, handing me beautiful pieces to look after as he sees fit.

My habit of holding too much has taken its toll, and I am sure that I have some recovering and restoring to do, but I see another way of approaching life. With my feet shod with the readiness of God's peace, I plan to walk in it.

Care to join me?

Sick Day

Last night I was sick.

Really Sick.

This evening Andy asked me, "Are you going to tell people about it?" and I emphatically said "No!" I said, "Are YOU going to tell people about it?" He assured me that the details are mine to keep. I figure "it" - believe me, "it" needs the quotation marks! - will become one of those stories a few years down the road that we pull out to demonstrate how our marriage has developed and why we remain so deeply in love. But it really will have to wait a few years.

Moving on...

After two long naps and a glass of apple juice, I was well enough to sit on the couch. But that was about it.

Luckily, Jack was a dream today. It was all I could manage to select a show for him to watch from our DVR. Usually, if I have too many shows on in a day I notice that he gets really feisty and sassy from being too sedentary and having too little of my attention. But today he entertained himself and told me cute stories and at random moments would come kiss my hair or coo at Joey.

When I did turn the tv off he curled up on the couch with me and Joey and played a game he invented which involved him trying to stick a turquoise rock in my belly button. He thought it was hilarious. I usually hate having my belly button (not my belly... my belly button) touched, but I made an exception because he liked it so very much.

I would like you to know

that I almost

wrote a little quip

about expecting his hand

to get lost in the folds of my tummy

but I didn't

because,

well,

it isn't true.

I love this body of mine that has

grown and birthed two sweet boys.

I will continue to love and care for it

regardless of what I want it to be - right now

or what it once was and no longer is.

Despite feeling so yucky, I thought, "This is a sweet life."

In other news:

At six-weeks postpartum, something magical happened. I don't remember such a sudden shift with Jack (I don't remember a lot about those first few months with Jack), but with Joey, the first few weeks I really wondered if I was going to bounce back.

Now, things are still hard. I'm still tired, but life seems manageable. The shift was so dramatic that I wondered if there is some hormone flush that happens at that point, or if that is how long it takes your body to acclimate to a torturous sleep cycle... or if there is some other physiological change that happens exactly at that milestone.

It could be that, or it could just be that I have mastered a few essential life skills with two babies:

• I can pack the diaper bag, get them out the door and load them into the van all by myself.
• I can nurse Joey and walk, if needed, to retrieve destructive or noisy toys from Jack.
• I can bathe both boys at the same time.
• I can leave the house without my hair fixed and not feel all that bad about it.
• And I survived Andy being gone for a full four days... joyfully!

In addition to the practical skills, I think I've let go of some pretty harsh expectations I've had for myself (see above, tummy side note). Everyone in my life loves me, regardless of how put together I look when go out, or how much I do or don't get done, or even how much more frequently I struggle to be patient with Jack and fail.

I am loved.

And recognizing that has lifted a load.

I know that there are many good days and many hard days before me. But this evening, I am once again enjoying the journey. God has good things in store for this family and I am so happy to be where I am.

I Learned My Lesson

Do you ever have those days, weeks, months, or years when you know you are learning something good?  Something that you need to hold onto and let become part of who you are?

I had that day yesterday.

I had simple opportunities to be disappointed.  Discouraged.  Frustrated.  

If I had decided to pick up and carry those emotions, I would have missed out on what turned out to be a wonderful day.

Something happened inside of me that allowed me to quell the rising dismay.  I saw my moment of frustration in light of a bigger life.  Why waste my tears, emotions, time on a reaction that doesn't reflect who I want to be?  Why buy into a mentality that I don't want to define my character?

Instead, I respond with grace, with peace, and yes, with joy.

I know this attitude wasn't my own.  It can only be evidence of God transforming my heart.  I am glad to say that He is working in me. That is what I want.  

I will tell you the story, but in a future post. At this exact moment I have Eggs Benedict to make and a baby to play with.  I will tell you though, my revelation came from two pairs of red shoes.  Who knew that God could speak through fashionable footwear?  But He's God and I'm thankful He speaks to me at all!  

He waved to ME

Okay, so I know everyone is dying to know about my clandestine appointment with Clinton Kelly.  

In my previous post, I had a few questions about how the day would go, let me address those first:

Were there guards?  No.  Unless you count the woman turing away those hopeful of catching a glimpse of C.K. but did not have a ticket.  Fortunately WE had tickets.  Also, there were women of all shapes and sizes present, though the presentation was geared toward plus-sized frames.

What did I wear?  As usual leading up to an event, my closet's contents seemed woefully inadequate, but I told myself to get over it.  I spent much too much time lamenting my lack and far too little time celebrating what I do have.  So I wore a pair of grey tweed-ish plants (long and straight, just like Clinton and Stacy advise - thank you Value Village), an apple green wrap top that looks quite good with my red hair and a pair of metallic purple peep-toes.  It was a pretty good ensemble.  

Did I win the $500 shopping date with Clinton?  No. But he did wave to me when he was in the store.  Probably because when I saw him my face flushed and my mouth kind of went slack and my expression was both one of awe, fear and delight.  But still, Clinton Kelly waved at ME!

Also, let me clarify something.  I know that it is silly to get so invested in a tv personality.  I'm not really obsessed.  I just enjoy being dramatic about some things, What Not to Wear and Clinton happen to be a couple of the things I like to be dramatic about.  That being said, here are some of the tips that I remember...

1. Shoes ALWAYS set the mood of an outfit.
   
2. Get professionally fitted for a bra.
   
3. Have your clothes tailored.
   
4. When you find a pair of jeans that you love, buy two pairs - one to wear with flats, one to wear with heals (Of course this means that you will need to have them tailored).
   
5. When assembling an out fit mix and match: color, pattern, texture, shine.
6. T-shirts do not count as clothes.  They are only acceptable for layering, loungewear or the gym.
7. To find clothes that fit and are fabulous - you have to try A LOT on.  He said that on average the women on the show try on 20 pairs of jeans before they find one that fits.

It was really such a blast to sit and listen to a charming, well spoken and handsome man.  I especially enjoyed his information about "what you don't see" on the show and his parting comments which advocated for women to embrace their beautiful selves and stop beating themselves up for not looking like the "fake" women in advertisements.

Thank you Clinton!

One of the startling things he said was that of the 240 women that he has worked with on WNTW, only two have been able to say they are happy with their bodies.  What a sad, sad number!  I left feeling very challenged to become one of those women and spur my friends on to the same.

Women are beautiful.  We receive so many messages that say we CAN be beautiful, but those messages are all conditional. If you buy this, if you wear that, if you change this, if you...

Am I willing to be the odd-woman-out and love the shell that God has given me to inhabit while on this earth?  Am I willing to talk nicely to myself, in private and in public?  Am I willing to ruthlessly edit the messages that I receive through media - cancel magazine subscriptions and delete shows from my DVR, if that is what it takes?  Am I willing to let others compliment me and receive those kind words as truth?  Am I willing to train my thoughts to dwell on the positive and stop comparing, stop chastising, stop chasing?  I think I am.

Are you?

John 10:10

"The thief comes only to steal and kill and destroy; I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full."

I have confession.  In the last weeks I have fallen victim to the thief.  What has he stolen?  Joy, confidence, acceptance, energy, peace.  What has been left in the wake? Fear, guilt, anxiety, sadness, confusion.  

I was weak and I let the thief walk away with my dreams and hopes.  I barely put up a fight.  I don't think I knew what was happening until they were gone.  

The thief is a master of disguise.  In a season of life where mothers are expected to be tired, overwhelmed, distanced from spouses, and even depressed, I accepted the changes and didn't question.  I assumed they would just go away.  

But here I am.  Seven months into motherhood and discouraged.  I battle daily to find simple pleasures, to approach another load of dishes or laundry, or sometimes even Jack, without grumbling, to LIVE THIS SEASON TO THE FULL.  My thoughts turn sour at the slightest bump.  Instead of my usual optimism and confidence in God's love and provision and my ability to hear him, I assume the worst.  I assume that I am alone, unwanted and doing everything wrong.

It hurts.  It feels crushing.  I almost want to give in.

BUT I WON'T.

Jesus said he came that "they might have life, and have it to the full."  That EMILY might have life to the full.  

"It is for freedom that Christ has set us free.  Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery." Galatians 5:1

"Now the Lord is the Spirit, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is freedom." 2 Corinthians 3:17

"But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self-control."  Galatians 5:22,23

"... I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full." John 10:10

I was reading in Genesis last week and came to the chapter where Abram and Lot are about to part ways.  God says to Abram, "Lift up your eyes from where you are and look north and south, east and west.  All the land that you see I will give to you... Go, walk through the length and breadth of the land, for I am giving it to you." Genesis 13:14,17

I distinctly heard God call me to look up from where I am.  In the middle of the day, I see a dirty house, a needy baby, dinner to make, not enough time to enjoy the company of my husband... those things discourage me.  My feeble view of the future looks like more of the same for awhile, instead of the life of adventure and purpose that I crave.  

But God sees all of the north, south, east and west.  He sees it ALL.  He knows where I am now and he knows what he plans to give me.  It is going to be more than I could ever even think to ask for.  

So his challenge to me?  To Go. To walk the length and breadth of the land.  To love him each day and to flourish in the midst of diapers, in the midst of loneliness and in spite of the foggy future.  Just GO.  Live it up.  Thrive.  Set down roots of faith in him and obedience.  Keep my hands open to receive daily doses of the joy and peace that I need.  Live with gratitude and endurance.

This season, this battle, this daily fight to accept the gift of full life, is necessary to shape me for the things God has in store.  Truthfully, that knowledge doesn't really make it feel any easier, but I have to learn that my feelings aren't always going to reflect the truth of who God is and how he's working in my life.  They can be a tool, but I've been relying on them too heavily.

So now, on to the art of living.  God, please seal this truth in me.  

Courage to you friends as you look north, south, east and west and as you go claim the land God has promised you.  

The Chase

I wonder how many hours and tears and thousands of dollars I have spent in the pursuit of beauty.  

A lot of days (maybe... almost, most days) I feel like I keep my beauty cravings in check, but then a day like today comes along and I am reminded of the true state of my heart. 

Today was haircut day.  I intended to just look at a few pictures of styles before I went to my appointment, but before I realized what I was doing, I had spent an hour looking at pictures of Victoria Beckham's beautiful hair AND perfect face AND sculpted body and losing every ounce of confidence I've ever had, all the while forming a list of the items I simply must acquire to up my beauty quotient - none of which I actually need. Why do I so easily buy into the culture of beauty when I know it is not what I want? (actually, I really do want to be beautiful... just not in that worldly, expensive way)

The hope of coming home more lovely than I left is always there on haircut day. Sometimes I cry when I realize that a trim didn't change the scale or shrink my nose or give me more money to buy all of the high-fashion accessories that I crave. Sometimes I keep my head and heart straight and just go about the business of getting my hair cut.  And every so often I am able to be totally pleased with me, just the way I am. 

Today my hair turned out fine... but not like the picture of Posh (ya think?!).  I confess that left me disappointed.  Silly girl that I am.  Maybe one day I won't be won over by that foolish hope and cruel disappointment, but today, again, I was.

But here's the crux: 

I serve a creative God.  He thought of and executed everything beautiful on this planet.  I firmly believe that my love of beauty starts as something holy, delight in what He has crafted and designed, but it quickly becomes distorted, misplaced and cheap.  Instead of being in awe of HIM, the creator, I identify the creation and admire, verging on worship, it.  I want it to be the other way around.  I want to be transformed by the creator, not transfixed by the creation.

Oh Lord, please forgive me.  Change my heart.  Give me a new measure of beauty.  Make me aware of what influences me and what I allow to speak into my heart. Strengthen me to live in a way that admires beauty, but is not consumed by it. Thank you for your faithfulness.  And thank you for all things beautiful.

Perspective

A few days ago I met some pre-baby friends for lunch.  Of the four of us I was the only mom with a baby in tow (I think they are all moms in their heart, but just without the baby yet).  As the meal drew to a close Jack started to fuss.  Personal and significant stories were shared and as much as I wanted to support and tend to my friends, Jack's cries were louder than theirs.

I left the restaurant feeling discouraged and "out of commission." In the past two years, my life has completely up-ended.  I've gone from being happily single, to happily married, to happily caring for a family.  Each addition to my life has been full of joy, frustration, acknowledgements of my shortcomings and all the things that come with significant relationships and changes.  Each transition has also transformed my perspective and what I think of as my "reach."

As a single woman I had time, money and energy to share.  Those things are still there, but as a wife and mom my first priority is to share those things with my husband and baby. What remains is what I have to give and some days it feels like so much less than what I would wish.

But here is the conclusion I've reached.  It is okay.  It is okay to mourn the loss of what I was once able to do.  It is okay to be family-centered.  It is okay to say "no" once in a while. 

What I don't want is to fall into the trap that says that I'm not as good as I once was.  It is so dangerous for me to look back at a different season and say one was better than the other.  God has given me a wonderful life that I LOVE, how ungrateful of me to say, "Why thank you God, but are you sure this is as good as what I used to do?  Are you sure I am as usable or as interesting, or as ... whatever?"

I trust that I am where I need to be.  I am thankful and amazed.  I am making time and space to listen to God's promptings and practicing discipline in prayer and study.  I'm learning to trust that He is good and faithful.  

And seriously, how could anyone regret trading singlehood for this...

Overwhelmed

I'm overwhelmed.  In an good, amazed sort of way.  

Here's what my life looks like at this moment: 

Jack is snoozing and I just finished a thrown together lunch (nachos with cheddar and feta cheese - not very Emily like, but it is what I had in the fridge - and I like it) and ice water.  The Olympics are on in the background, Parenting magazine is open on my living room floor.  

My life is lovely.  My husband adores me and tells me so.  My baby is happy and healthy.  I have more than I need.

I live in a world that is assaulted by media that sells fear, guilt and discontent.  It is commonplace to hear those emotions seep into conversations.  Fear from Christians that they aren't living God's will.  Guilt from mothers that they aren't providing the most perfect environment for their precious babies to thrive.  Discontent from everyone that gas is too expensive, they can't afford brand name jeans and he said this or didn't do that. 

I think we get in the habit of being unhappy.  It seems unfathomable to live without those emotions.  Impossible.  Even scary.  If I'm not discontent, what will I be?  If I look at myself in the mirror and say, "I am just right" people will think I'm a snob.  If I don't stress constantly about whether or not I'm in God's will, will people think I'm not seeking God?

But it is for freedom that Christ has set us free.  This week I feel like I am catching a better glimpse of who Jesus is and why he would humble himself to save me.  I am loved.  I am a deliberate creation.  When God says he has a plan for me - a plan to prosper me and not to harm me... I believe him! 

What a difference to live with hope, with a humble confidence (in Jesus, not myself), with joy, with wonder and delight in simple things and to face each decision with confidence that God is not testing me or disappointed with me.  I am his daughter.  He knows what he has created me for - for love, for joy, for peace, to add beauty to this world and to call out giftedness in those I meet.  

I am indeed overwhelmed to tears.  God is present.  He is active.  And is is FOR me, not against me.  I feel burdened for the hearts that are caught in the cycle of trying to please and trying to perform and trying to prove themselves.  I have been there.  I will be there again, I'm sure.  But today, I see Jesus.  I walk with him and I am astonished that he walks with me, and enjoys it. 

There is approval in the Kingdom of God.  There is celebration.  Thank you Father!  Please help me to remember and live these things.  Strengthen me to live free of the burdens that come so easily.  And teach me to be a burden lifter.  Thank you for all you have done for me!

Pleased

I'm feeling kind of pleased with myself this morning.  I guess it is easy to feel pleased with yourself when a stranger approaches you at the coffee shop while you are waiting for a friend and says, "You are beautiful!" and then settles down to have a conversation about her life, only to interrupt herself with further breathless comments about your beauty.  

Yes, that did happen.  To me.  I don't expect it to happen again, but it was a nice start to my morning.  

My friend Christy also told me my outfit selection "would make Stacy and Clinton proud."  Oh what a compliment!  Stacy and Clinton are my tv friends.  When I buy something new I think, "What would Stacy and Clinton say?"  I guess it is working! 

But I feel pleased with myself for another reason. Yesterday Andy and I took a great big step toward our goal of being 100% debt free.  We sold our cute car.

  

This is our cute car.  Or WAS.  A Ford Focus, SVT, ZX5.  Bright, shiny red.  Leather seats with seat warmers.  Bright headlights, moon roof, a fancy CD player.  Sigh.  It was a good car.

But Andy and I are really working to free up our income.  In February we started looking at our finances and made some decisions that ultimately have allowed me to stay home with Jack, which was what I REALLY wanted to do.  I always thought, oh, we are in good shape.  We just have a couple of car loans and some student loans, no biggy.  But those "necessary" debts added up to more that $22,000!  Woah!  When we discovered that we started making serious moves to get rid of that baggage.  Now, just seven months later we have payed off $14,000! Yes, I am proud of that!

So what do I drive now?  I drive a '93 Dodge Spirit, faded maroon.  A cracked windshield, busted headlight, deployed airbag and a good ol' tape deck.  This is the life!  But at least I'm gorgeous driving it, right?

Confession

I like the phrase, "I confess..." If is kind of cleansing, like throwing away clothes that don't fit or cleaning out the fridge.  

I confess, I like looking in the mirror and saying to myself, "What a beautiful girl!"

I confess, after years of loudly proclaiming my dislike of coffee, I now need at least one cup a day.  I really don't know how that happened.  I think it started with the Pumpkin Spice latte...

I confess, I'm "one of those moms" who babbles nonsense words to her baby.

I confess, my son's name is Jack.  Yesterday I called him Jake.  

I confess, I spent all day yesterday angry about something ridiculous.  I cried.  I seethed. I held full conversations in my head that only fueled the fire.  And then, I gave up.  I decided not to have those conversations and not to be consumed by my feelings of self-justification, self-pity, hurt, frustration... all the yucky ones.  What started as a horrible day, ended with laughter and camaraderie. 

I confess, that was hard work.  It took a whole day of internal fighting and choosing to not be ruled by my emotions. But it was SO worth it.