Just the Basics

"It could be a disaster, it could be a golden-year, but most likely it will be a little bit of both and something in-between."

That is what I told my grandma when I let her know that Andy and are moving to Arizona.

In two weeks.

That's right folks.

Andy and I have officially given into a dream and are following the yellow brick road.

Whether the path leads us to the Emerald City or to the lair of the evil flying monkeys has yet to be determined.

Let's back up a mite, shall we?

Several months ago Andy used his joking voice to let me know of a job opening in his company's Tucson shop. For the same position he holds here, just in a sunnier state.

Several days ago, after living in total chaos for a week, I used my joking voice to say, "Hey, how about that job in Arizona?!"

Then, all of a sudden, without even meaning to, we were both using our serious voices to discuss what it could and would mean and if we would really be interested in a major shift of lifestyle.

Turns out we both WERE interested. So Andy talked to his boss and wouldn't you know it, the job was still open, but just, and so Andy signed his name on a few sheets of paper and ta da! We are packing our things and driving to Arizona in about 13 days.

The first week after the decision was made was pretty thrilling.

The last two days, as goodbyes have started, have been pretty heart-wrenching.

In a little while, when I'm not feeling so emotionally taxed, I will explain more about what we hope to accomplish with the move and some of the most motivating factors - but today, I think I can only manage the basics.

There is still a sense that this isn't really happening and I have a small hope, married to a small fear, that seeing it written, in my own words, on my own blog, will settle some of the flutter in my brain and heart.

Let it be known, that I am VERY excited about the possibilities before me and my family.

And let it also be known, that I am mourning the life we have loved in Washington and the fact that it will stay and we are going.

It occurred to me that this is the very first time I have had to deal with significant loss. It feels very strange to know that my own choices are causing such sadness, and that behind and next to and in front of and all around that sadness are other emotions: expectation, hope, fear, enthusiasm, love and joy and peace.

I feel compelled to DO something with all of these emotions. I feel a need to reign them in and tame them. But I'm not sure that is really the point. They are part of this adventure, and part of this life and I think I don't want to miss this part.

I'm in-between again.

So, prepare for a peppering of thoughts on moving, both poetic and practical. You will probably hear more about Washington vs. Arizona for a while than CrossFit (gasp!), so just be ready.

And, by the way, the first thing we did after putting the move on the table as a legitimate possibility was to look up the available CrossFit gyms in the area. There are four. We will be in CrossFit heaven.

True Story.

Bacon-Wrapped Revival

It came to my attention this evening that several of my friends were totally baffled by my fluttery feelings toward J.J. While I won't make a further fool of myself by expounding on the finder qualities of Survivor's most recent castoff, I will just say, "Jimmy, I'll miss your smile."

It also came to my attention that one of the very same friends who mocked my crush-choice has on her list of former infatuations, Adam Sandler.

Really?

Adam Sandler?

However, despite our inability to agree on something as foolish as crush-worthy celebrities, we did all enjoy a smashing success of a party this evening.

...

Have you ever experienced a season when you find that you can't quite hold onto the person you desire, or believe yourself to be? The pressures around you to act/think/be different than you are seem too strong and you find that without realizing it you have given up way more ground then you ever intended?

In short, and to refer to a dreadful cliche, have you ever lost yourself?

Or, you feel like you know where your "you" is but it just doesn't seem to be welcome to those around you?

I know that sounds so dreary.

But that is sort of where I've been.

I spend a lot of time thinking about who I want to be and how to get there.

I invest a lot of energy into my decisions about parenting and wifedom and the many other tiny facets that make up Emily.

Truthfully, I think that is good. I would be neglecting beautiful traits that God built into me if I lived otherwise.

But what I've run into is this: I've hit a place in my life- a season of schedules, living situations, realities of life - that seem to fight hard against my nature. Try as I might to stand up to life, I feel deflated and bruised. And, in a completely unguarded moment, like who I am and the things I used to believe to be wonderful about me, are worthless to this world.

It is verging on miserable. I am trying so desperately to not become bitter or angry or lost. Some days I do better then others. When I look up, away from my obsession with myself, I can know that seasons are temporary and sooner or later the frustrations and difficulties of this season will give way to new beauty and a fresh season.

But boy is it hard work to keep reminding yourself of things that ARE true, but don't FEEL true.

Tonight I co-hosted a party with a dear friend.

We made fancy food, pretty drinks and we somehow found a lovely balance between feeling like grown-ups and including our messy, noisy, delightful children.

I ate bacon-wrapped dates and stuffed mushrooms and salmon ravioli. I made pumpkin creme brulee to celebrate the season that I love. And I chitted and chatted and smiled and laughed with some of the most beautiful women I know. Our families gathered together to form one big, noisy crowd enjoying food and life together.

And I found myself again.

I caught a glimpse of the woman that I know myself to be.

I discovered a moment of respite from the work of reminding myself of truth.

It was so refreshing. She's in there. She might not be all bright and shiny and able to take on the world RIGHT NOW, but she's not gone. That woman, ME, is still beautiful and still capable and still valuable.

I'm not sure how to capture that assurance for the remainder of the hard days, but for tonight, I will go to be satisfied and delighted, thanking Jesus for bacon and blue cheese and friends that share the best of themselves with me - and invite me to do the same.

Thank you dear friends.

Air

Having a blog is scary. It means that on days when you feel - whatever the feeling, good or bad - that there is always the temptation to share. And sometimes those feelings aren't ready to be offered to the world yet.

So, silence.

...

Do you ever feel like all the wonderful parts of you are suffocating?

...

If you are waiting for permission to let the good and lovely and against-the-grain parts of you grow? I extend it to you now.

Go, be unusual.

Be bright.

Be creative.

Feel.

Write.

Paint.

Eat.

Do things in a way that makes sense to you and do it without explaining your reasons to anyone.

You are valuable.

Your talents are real.

There are gifts inside of you, just waiting to get out.

I mean this truly.

Permission has been given.

Begin living like you want to, and not like you think other people want you to.

Start a trend of bravery.

Begin a revolution.

Set aside the "I think I shoulds" and dive head first into the "I thrive when I..."

Do you know where you thrive? If you don't, discover that! If you do, live it!

Please do this.

Don't let the world miss out on you because you are trying to be someone else.

Revive the hope that you are valuable and unique and needed in this world.

Hope.

Hold tight to the promise that there is not only a plan for your life, but that your life is part of the bigger plan.

You are not insignificant.

You are lovely.

YOU are lovely.

Fulfillment Reading

Today, I was at MOPS and the speaker, a woman who is on the other side of parenting young children and is now enjoying her grandchildren, was talking about perspective in mothering.

She made a very brief comment that she thought that she "was taking her fulfillment reading too often" as a young mother, and I was totally struck by that concept.

I get discouraged on the days when I am messy and tired and feel beyond inadequate to parent. I wonder why I am not totally in love with each day I get to be Jack's mom. Some days I struggle to show the joy and gratitude I have that I get to stay home with Jack. But I know, that despite the frustrations and disgusting things I touch, I really do love my days as a mother. 

It may be that I am just "checking my measurements" a little too often. In the same way that if I stepped on the scale every hour of the day, I could see huge fluctuations in the number based on what I've eaten, when I last used the bathroom and what I'm wearing, my mood and the filter I see my life through, is going to change daily, even hourly.  It is probably going to change based on those very things that make my weight bounce around. 

My perception of my life and myself is imperfect. While I like about myself that I am introspective and ask questions of my motives, emotions, and thoughts, I need to remember not too put too much stock in ME. I will fail.  That is a given.  I will be overcome with joy. I will get the giggles. I will cry. I will overreact. I will enjoy simple pleasures. I will make great discoveries and forget lessons I thought I had learned. 

My sense of fulfillment is going to change each moment.  It just is. So I need to learn to not gauge my life by my senses. Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, today and forever. Where I am fickle, he is steady.  Where I am ignorant, he is wise.  Where I am overwhelmed, he has overcome. 

I know that I am emotional and erratic and illogical on occasion.  Thank goodness I serve a Savior who is steady and solid and trustworthy. 

So today, I look at my fulfillment reading and instead of saying "full" or "empty" it says:

"For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord."

...neither weight gain nor weight loss...

...neither feelings of inadequacy nor feelings of self-importance...

...neither repetitive tasks nor great adventures...

...neither financial fears nor great wealth...

...neither obscurity nor fame...

 Nothing in all creation, will be able to separate me from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus. 

Five-year Plan

I want these.

Jack's latest antics:

• At this very moment he is rolling and chasing a foam soccer ball all over the dining room floor and sort of singing to himself.  I love watching him play!

• Yesterday while I was feeding him lunch (little pieces of leftover dinner, because he's so grown up and can feed himself) he picked up a piece of chicken and held out his hand to me.  It took me a second to connect the movement to the intent, but he was offering me his food!  Awww!  Thanks baby!  So now I am in that "pretend eating" phase.  That's right, I'll be the mom making exaggerated chewing faces and swallowing noises for the next few months. 
  

• When I'm bustling about the house, especially when I'm making dinner, I still have a little shadow.  It is so, so endearing!  It makes it a little hard to move though, because if I stand still for too long Jack climbs right up my legs and stands that way, gripping my pants.  His balance is precarious enough that if I move too quickly, down he goes.  So I stand motionless or do a VERY slow motion shuffle across the kitchen floor.  But mostly I just laugh and then carry him back into the living room so that I have about three minutes to stir, taste, plate, before he is back, clinging to my leg.  
  

Perhaps it is an indicator that Jack will be more proficient in the kitchen than his father.  

For the sake of my future daughter-in-law, I sure hope so.

Although, GUYS, Andy made me dinner last week! It is true!  And, I think with a some slightly modified grocery purchases, he is willing to make dinner once a week.  I cannot even tell you what a giant leap this is for all of Aicheledom!  

I used to joke that I had a five-year plan to get Andy in the kitchen.  (His joke has always been that he married me for the food - It's only a joke people!)

The first phase of my plan was to send Andy on little grocery runs, all by himself.  For nothing too crazy, but things not found in the Hamburger Helper isle.  Maybe some garlic.  Maybe some olive oil.  Maybe some pimento peppers.  

An example of items on the list I give him looks like this:  Fresh basil - it is in the produce section, in the refrigerator case, on the top left hand side, in a little plastic box type thing, it should be 2.99.  Avocado - not rock hard, not too squishy, it should just give a little when you squeeze it.  

One time he OFFERED to get my whole list (double digit items people!).  I re-wrote the list in order of how he would find it in the store, isle by isle.

You may think I'm over the top, but the point is for him to feel like HE CAN DO IT!  Make it easy.  Make it not a chore.  

This was the first step.

Truthfully, I didn't know what would come after that.  But I thought, hey, five years is a good amount of time, I'll come up with something.

The next step ended up being Eggs Benedict.  Almost every Sunday morning we sleep in, get up and make coffee and toddle around for an hour or so, and then I make Eggs Benedict.  It is not a good thing to eat if you are watching your calories, or worried about cholesterol, but if you want to make your taste buds happy, give it a try.   

Anyhow, Andy KNOWS how happy it makes me to cook with people, especially him, so one morning he volunteered to help.  SERIOUSLY!?  YES YOU CAN HELP!  Be still my beating heart!

His big thing is he says he's not creative, he needs rules, instructions.  Well, the part of our brunch that has instructions is the sauce.  It is just a packet of sauce mix to which you add milk and butter and stir.  

So now, Andy squishes in the kitchen with me to man the sauce.  I love it.  I am grinning ear to ear just thinking about it.  

So I guess sauce mix was stage two.  

Thanks to Trader Joe's, we now are in stage three (I have no idea how many stages it will take to be cooking buddies, but I am now VERY optimistic that it will happen in my lifetime).  TJ's has very yummy frozen food.  In particular, I am thankful for the Orange Chicken and the microwave rice.  Andy has made this twice now, very successfully (I did sneak into the kitchen and add some broccoli, but veggies are a few steps away I think, so I'm okay with that).

I wish you could know the multitude of emotions that swell in my heart as he brings me a plate of food that I didn't have to lift a finger to prepare.  Gratitude, adoration, pride, victory, burning desire (after all, it has to be worth his while, no?).

Ah. Happy sigh.

The fine and tender nuances of married life.  

Andy, thanks for being willing to try something that you think you'll (and probably do) hate, just to make me happy. I appreciate you, and your efforts, very, VERY much.

Muah!

For those of you not in the know, 

that is a kiss noise.  

Like a highfalutin pair of ladies 

holding each other on the shoulders, 

with pinkies up 

and leaving an air kiss on each cheek. 

 "Muah, muah.  How aaaree you daaahhling?"

In our case it simply means,

"If you were here right now I would kiss you!"

Feel free to borrow it for all of your lovey-dovey needs.

Seriously?

On Thursday I did some work on our family budget.  We usually do pretty well with budgeting, but as Christmas is coming up, I thought it would be a good idea to check in with what we planned on spending for the holidays. 

So, doo do dooo - singsong voice, I printed out a nice little blank spreadsheet of all the people we will be buying gifts for and additional expenses (decorations, wrapping paper... you know).  I printed two copies and had a beautiful plan in my head of Andy and I both individually considering what we thought was reasonable to spend.  Then our Budget Meeting could be short, simply us bringing our ideas to the table and finding a nice middle ground.  It was going to be easy-peasy-lemon squeezy.

What world do I live in?

What really happened was that I showed Andy the sheet and told him my plan.  He made a comment that hurt my feelings (not intentionally, I'm sure.  He would never be snappy on purpose!).  What resulted was a fit of tears and sobbing and hysterics... and blank spreadsheets. 

It was horrible.

But we got over it and went to bed on speaking terms. Always.

Friday came along and I was plagued by a day of indecision.  No choice seemed like the right one.  Lunch options, evening plans, discussions about what the weekend might hold, I was totally paralyzed.  I attributed it to the emotion-hangover from Thursday.  I just kept pep-talking myself and saying, just do SOMETHING. I know myself well enough to know that when emotion strikes, it will go as quickly as it came and I just have to do the best that I can until it washes away.

Saturday passed with nothing much to report, except an insatiable hunger (probably all that working out I've been doing) and Sunday was delightful (see my previous post) minus the blemish on my chin that Andy was kind enough to point and laugh at.

So you would think: emotional, hungry, indecisive... lady, don't you know what's coming?  No.  It didn't really cross my mind.  Every month I'm kind of caught off guard for a few days.  

Why am I so hungry?

Why is my skin weird?

Why am I SO tired, but can't seem to fall asleep?

Why did I TOTALLY blow that comment out of proportion and why am I in a sobbing heap under every blanket that I own?

Hmmm...

Sure enough, hello Monday.  Thanks for clearing those things up for me.  My sweet Andy was kind enough to keep his commentary to himself over the weekend, but once his theory had been proved his line was, "I wondered, but I thought I was better off not saying anything."

Right you were!

That never goes over very well does it?  "Honey, um, could it maybe, um, be that time of the month?"

NO! Uh. Okay, well maybe.  Let me check the calendar.  Oh.  Yeah.  Maybe. Sorry honey.

Seriously? I've been a woman for more than a decade.   How can I be so dense and unaware?  How? 

I was going to get my hair cut this week, but given the lame results last month and my propensity to get emotionally flustered this week, I thought I would postpone until next week. 

Luckily the worst of the hormonal torrent is over and in its wake I have the following entertaining tidbits for you:

One:  Jack now has a HURRY crawl.  It is mainly employed when he sees that I have left the bathroom door open.  He locks eyes on the doorway and then scrambles toward it.  However, his speed does not actually increase, he just pants really loudly like he would if he were in fact moving quickly, which he doesn't.  Yet.  

He tried to do the hurry crawl tonight in the bathtub.  He flopped himself on to his stomach and then got up on his knees.  His goal was to grab the bottle of baby shampoo on the ledge of the tub.  He got is hands and legs moving in coordination, but because the tub floor was so slippery, he just looked like a cartoon character with those spinning legs that don't actually move anywhere.

Two: This afternoon I watched my nephew Dane.  Dane has a cool trick that he does with his dirty diapers.  After he's been changed, you can tell him to throw the diaper in the trash and he walks to the cabinet below the sink and throws the diaper away.  

Today, I was fixing Jack some food, or doing something that had my attention.  I heard Dane behind me in the kitchen and then I heard foil hit the floor.  The only place he could get foil was from the trash can.  Before I was able to intercept, Dane had retrieved a piece of bread that I burnt while making my lunch.  Yes people, I do occasionally burn things (twice this week actually.  Can hormonal imbalance be blamed for burning dinner?).  And yes, people, he did eat that piece of bread.  

He actually carried it into the living room and curled up in the baby bouncer with the bread underneath him.  When he was ready to eat it he got up on his knees, reached under his rump and retrieved the burnt bread (can you imagine the crumbs?).  

Three:  I started cleaning my side of the bed.  My side of the bed is a mess of discarded t-shirts, half-read books, kleenex and bobby pins.  Would you care to guess how many bobby pins?  

Go on.  Guess.

Higher.

Higher.

Even Higher.

45

That is more than come in one brand-spankin-new box of bobby pins.  In addition there were eight other various clips.  

How does THAT happen?  

One of the wonders of the universe I guess.  

So if you ever need a spare pin, now you know where to find it.

And in case you've been having a few of THOSE DAYS in a row, might I gently suggest you check your calendar?

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 Grass is Greener

I miss having co-workers.

Don't misunderstand me.  I am SO thankful to be able to focus my energy on my family and not have to divide my attention between a profession, or even "just" a job, and the boys I love best.  I know being a "stay at home mom" is a coveted position and I do my best to not take it for granted. However, there are a few aspects of having a real (as in paid, with set hours and a specific location in which to do your work) job that I am coveting this morning:

1. COWORKERS: Mal, Christy, Marli... I miss you!  When I worked, there was always someone to talk to, to bounce ideas off of, to laugh with... now to have those relational moments I have to be very intentional.  The fact is, most of the United States is busy.  To schedule time with people involves two or three phone calls/text messages/e-mails and the examination of several calendars.  So much simpler to just walk down a cubical or two and say high or share some tea with a comrade. 

2. HAVING A BOSS:  A boss tells you what to do.  If he's a good boss, expectations are clear and you know what you are responsible for.  Motherhood is pretty much a guessing game for me.  There is lots of advice out there, but nobody is laying out the plan... that's my job now.  Man!  It takes so much mental energy.  There are days when I just wish that someone would tell me what to do and save me the effort!

3. PROJECTS WITH A DEFINED END: I miss the satisfaction of knowing that I have accomplished something.  There is instant gratification in saying, "Yes!  That task is done! For good!  And done well!"  There is no end, finish, time off or checked box for being a wife and mom.  

4. FEEDBACK: Jack really isn't at the stage yet where he can say, "Wow.  You're a great mom.  You are really instilling strong values in me and teaching me how to one day be a happy, successful adult.  Thanks mom!"  At work, if you do a job well, you usually hear at least a "thank you." But at this point in my life I have to keep doing my best with little feedback or affirmation.

Friends, this whole motherhood gig is hard work.  With the strength that God provides, I will face the challenge, but I have to accept the fact that life is full of choices.  To follow one dream you often give up another.  Luckily I am pursuing this dream with a dear husband and delightful family and friends.  There may not be the instant praise that I crave or the simplicity of executing someone else's plan, but there is the sweet satisfaction of know that I am where I need to be for this moment and that there is grace for each day.

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!

A Brave New World

Wow, I've actually entered the world of blogging.  

This morning I came to a conclusion.  I'm a girl.  Okay... that was not my conclusion... bear with me, I have to give some background...  Girls like to talk about their feelings right?  I have lots of feelings.  Sometimes they are emotions, sometimes they are reflections, sometimes just thoughts about how to make the world a better place... Pictures and words well up in my mind and if they don't get a chance to flow out, they become distorted and I get cranky.  

Nobody wants to be around a cranky girl. 

But talking about those feelings  is hard work.  I have to make sure they come out just right.  When you have a conversation, there is no deleting the wrong words.  You can't hit save and come back later to edit your sentences or clarify your meaning.  For some thoughts, writing is better.  

And sometimes there is the reality that even if I did want to share verbally, there just isn't anyone to express myself to. Friends are busy, my husband has to work (or has already patiently listened to me talk for days on end and I just love him too much to put him through it again today), strangers are skeptical, and despite Jack's sweet smile as I babble at him, I'm not sure he really gets it.  

So, here's a toast to a brave new world, at least for me, and a home for all of those feelings.