What Dreams Look Like

Now that I’ve left you wondering about what these dreams I’m chasing are... It is time for some details.

I started writing about them a few days ago and after I got through about four pages of words I thought, “I might need to break this up.”

So, this is the “what it looks like” edition. I hope to share more of the why in the future. 

But, exciting things are happening around my house that are fun to talk about and fun to  share. 

I am now officially a CrossFit coach! 

SQUEEE!

Yes, it is true. 

People show up to my house in black leggings and I ask them to do hard things, and then they do it!

A couple of months ago a friend of mine was lamenting a stuck place in her life, specifically in the area of fitness. 

I felt like an absolute fraud, but I offered to have her come to my house a few times a week to do push ups and squats and maybe lift some heavy things. 

I kept reminding her that I am just a regular girl who happens to like CrossFit and happens to have a few pieces of equipment in my garage, and that I didn’t have a clue what I was doing, but I was willing to cheer her on.

Well, she showed up, despite my disclaimer. 

Then I opened up the invitation to a few more gals, since it is infinitely more fun to workout with people than alone (in my opinion). My open invitation received a much eager response than I expected. 

Suddenly, I had FIVE girls showing up three times a week to get sweaty.

Then, Andy and I got the wild idea to get enough equipment for all these brave ladies. 

So, in our house that is still without a couch, we installed a few pull up bars, collected some kettle bells, wall balls and weight sets and invited a few more people to join the fun.

Now, we have “classes.” We have a website. We have a GYM!

And I am a coach.

Who would have guessed?!

The more that people started showing up, the more responsible I felt to make sure they were being safe, and that the workouts we were doing would move them toward their goals. 

So, I chased another wild hare and registered to go through the official CrossFit coaching course. 

This in itself was an amazing experience to me. I mentioned to a friend that I thought I should get a little more instruction on how to coach and she suggested that I go through the course. I looked it up online and low and behold, there was a course in Washington, just three weeks away. Every other course, around the country, before and for months after was already sold out. Except the one I needed.

So this past weekend, I spent full days practicing squats and lifts and learning how to teach pull ups and why CrossFit is what it is. I almost cried twice, from appreciation and warm feelings toward this culture and community of people and sport.

I came home feeling slightly more informed, but still just a girl who likes CrossFit. More than anything, I was inspired to keep chasing excellence - stronger skills in coaching, in my own fitness, in my challenge and encouragement to others. 

The more I coach, the more I see people improve, the more I practice being an athlete and trainer, the more I love my days. 

I feel full of energy and enthusiasm. I am inspired by the women who come to my house and try hard and scary things. I feel a huge sense of possibility for what our family is moving toward. 

I feel a freedom to fail that is new and refreshing. And equally exciting, I feel a freedom to succeed! 

Our little gym might grow, it might stay just a hobby, but whatever it is, it is fun! And I will love it for what it is.

So, if you are in our area, and want a good workout, stop by The Compound! I promise I’ll be nice!

Point of Vulnerability

"Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world."

James 1:27

I had been spending some time with this verse prior to knowing anything about GAP Ministries or ever having considered foster-parenting. What had caught my attention was the last part, "keep oneself from being polluted by the world."

I was coming at it from the perspective of someone who wasn't working with "widows and orphans." I appreciated the third "option" for genuine religion. My thought was, "Well, if I'm not working with the "homeless and loveless," as the Message translates it, at least I can make great efforts to keep from being polluted by the world."

But now that I am in the midst of preparing to host children who are temporary orphans, I see the verse in yet another light.

I love that God's word is living and active.

This week Andy and I spent two very, very long days finishing our initial training and testing. We will be required to have on-going training (all house-parents are) over the year, but we have now passed all the hurdles to get us going.

Training was extremely difficult for me.

In part, because I realized that I am, in fact, "working" again. After nearly three years of being at home, I am jumping back into schedules, meetings, paper-work, deadlines, and a myriad of other work-related words that I haven't had to think about for a very long time.

It took me many months to get OUT of work mode, I'm sure it will take a similar amount of time to transition back IN.

But, it is tricky. I don't want to look at the lives in my care as "work." I have decided that for me, I will think about anything on paper as my job. The logs and forms and information that I have to keep daily to report to the state of Arizona about how I am providing care, those things are what I get paid for. The children that come under my roof, the conversations that I have, the discipline that will inevitably be required - those things are a privilege. Each life I encounter is valuable to God, I want to treat it as such.

The other aspect of training that was difficult was the array of horrible, horrible scenarios that we were trained for. At some point during each of our training sessions I had to struggle against tears. And on a couple of occasions, Andy and I both were fighting to remain composed.

I learned everything from how to supervise phone calls between children and their estranged parents, to how to handle children who run away from our care, to how to identify and report signs of sexual, emotional or physical abuse.

Oh, my heart breaks.

So yesterday, when I read, "and keep yourself from being polluted by the world," I had a whole new perspective. If I am not careful, things that now sound unimaginable to me, will become common place: the anger and difficult behavior I encounter will become a nuisance instead of a sign of deep hurt, the paperwork will seem like the priority over people, the wickedness of man will cease to cause sorrow in my heart.

I don't want to be dulled or polluted by this world.

I am about to encounter more of the "world" then I ever have. I have always had a family that loves me, a sense of security, a safety net. My world has been small, because I have had that luxury. But now, by my own choosing, I am opening my home to the world. I am welcoming people in who are covered with the world's pollution, either by their choices, or by misfortune. My options are to try and stay away, so that I don't get dirty in the first place, or to draw close, and let the Holy Spirit daily cleanse me, so that the pollution doesn't stick.

I hope that I live the latter.

When I went to get my physical and drug test (a very bizarre experience) the doctor who was helping me was completely baffled by what Andy and I are doing. She kept saying over and over, "Ten kids! Ten kids?!" She was very friendly and curious, but she just couldn't fathom it. After a little bit of conversation she said, "You should be on reality tv!"

Now, I confess, the though had crossed my mind. There is a certain element of the process that has seemed very detached from reality (making it perfect for "Reality TV") and like prime fodder for mass media.

Yet as I was reading, "and keep yourself from being polluted by the world," I realized that my other point of vulnerability, and entrance-point for pollution, will be my pride.

I know this venture sounds either miserable or marvelous, depending on your own personal risk-aversion. Either way, there is a sense of wonder that accompanies doing something out of the ordinary.

I am a person that loves praise. I love to put on a good show (not on a stage, that would be horrible, but I like to make things look good and easy) and have people notice all the little details I have paid attention to. I know this about myself.

I know about myself that I like to do well. Prepare yourself for a disclosure that reveals my true sin-nature, but whenever I start a new job, I always, always think, "I am going to be the best they have ever hired." There is something in me that just wants to make people love me and need me.

So, I would lie if I said wasn't walking into this venture thinking, "Andy and I are going to be the best!"

And I would lie if I said I didn't think telling people about it makes me sound oh-so-awesome.

But...

Knowing this about myself, I make it my aim to stay in step with the Holy Spirit. If I can genuinely walk with him, and surrender my ambitions to be the very best, to his goals, then I feel in a safe place. Being humble, doesn't mean not being incredible. Jesus was humble on this earth, and we all know how awesome that turned out! I firmly believe that God wants big things for the kids who come into GAP's care, and if I am a part of that, I will be so grateful! The danger comes when I see successes, and claim those victories as my own, rather than evidence of God's goodness and greatness.

So, in addition to the challenge to keep my heart soft, I need to keep my heart humble.

Easier said than done.

But with God, all things are possible.

Oh Lord, please help me as I give you my life!

...

I had hoped to give you a little more factual information to answer questions, but right now, my heart and head are so full of the process that I can't quite nail down details. Bear with me, we will get there.

Thank you for joining me on this journey!

FAQ: What is a "houseparent"?

Andy has officially resigned from his job.

We are now officially "all in."

His company paid for us to move to AZ, and Andy had agreed to at least a year here. With that in mind, we offered to pay back the moving expenses. Andy's boss, while sad to lose an incredible employee, was very supportive and told us to keep it and leave with his well-wishes. So, now we are jumping through all the hoops and signing stacks and stacks of paper to get us ready for our new adventure.

Yesterday I had to go get fingerprinted. That was exciting!

Actually, it was very boring.

And I went to the wrong place... twice.

But my boys were troopers and stayed polite and pleasant for all three stops. Jack was slightly distressed that my hands got so dirty and for several minutes after we got back in the van he asked me to retell the event, spending extra time and details on the part where I washed all the dirt off.

I realize that I haven't give lots of specific details about our upcoming life.

You may be wondering, "What does that mean, 'houseparenting'?"

You might be wondering, "Who will feed all those kids?"

You are probably wondering, "What about Jack and Joey?"

Well, I will tell you.

Probably not all right at this very moment, because frankly, that might make a really boring post, and honestly, I still am not sure that I am completely clear about what I have signed myself up for.

But I can tell you, in this very post, what Andy and I *think we* have signed on for.

Our eventual goal, after training, is to be the resident parent-couple at one of the ten houses owned and operated by GAP Ministries. We would live there and treat it as if it were our own home. We would have 8 available beds and would probably see a pretty regular turnover in kids.

In Arizona, once a child has been removed from a home by CPS, the parents or guardians have one year to remedy whatever the situation is that caused their children to be removed. When the state removes the child, they call GAP to see if there are any beds available. When there are, a child that comes into one of our houses could be there just for the weekend, while a family member steps up to take the child, or they could stay the full year and later be placed with a permanent foster family.

Andy and I will be responsible for welcoming each child and integrating them into a "home" setting. For some this could be teaching them proper hygiene, it could be modeling a healthy husband-wife relationship, it will probably be teaching them how to live at peace with those in the home, it will mean developing and maintaining a routine for the home - including chores, financial management and solid study habits, and for all of them it will involve managing a lot of appointments (case workers, parent-visits, court hearings, school, after school activities, doctor, dentist, etc.).

The goal of our role really is to create a home and invite children who need a safe place, to participate in the home experience. The ministry we are working with encourages outings and celebrations that contribute to the family vibe. If Andy and I wanted to budget and do the leg work, we could drive our whole house to Disneyland. We can take them swimming and hiking and to the art museum... whatever we feel like coordinating. We can take the kids for pajama rides to get ice cream on a school night if we feel like it! I love that about this ministry, that they put so much emphasis on creating a home and facilitating family.

Before surrendering myself to this transition, I spent some time going over all of the pages I have written in the past of what I want to define our family and our home. What I want us to major on. The things that I feel are critical expressions of who Andy and I are and what we want to teach our children.

I wanted to make sure that those things, that I also feel are God-given, would not be violated by this new undertaking.

Over the last three years I have kept random pages of thoughts and ambitions for my family, my marriage, my parenting... I have kept them all in one place, but haven't actually ever put them all on the same page, or read over them as a whole. As I did so, I discovered two major themes: peace and hospitality.

Those are the words that over and over and over again call to me. They embody what I want of my home and what I pray daily:

Lord, please fill this house with your peace.

Lord, please use our home as a sanctuary for those who need rest.

When I was growing up, my mom painted our front door. It was beautiful. A bright, shiny red frame with the following sentiment artfully written:

Peace to those who enter here.
Courage to those who go forth.
Let those who go and those who stay
Forget not God

Over the last year especially, as Andy and I have transitioned through three different houses, those words have filled my brain. That is what I want my offering to this world to be. A home of peace. Peace that speaks not of my hostessing skills or my cooking or my decor, but peace that seeps into spirits and invites my guests and my family to know God, the Prince of Peace.

With those two words, I feel such invitation to this new ministry. During a short part of our decision process I wanted to run away and say, "not right now." But when I saw those two ideas, in my own handwriting, alive on page after page, I knew that this was right.

What I want for my own children, I want to offer to orphans.

Peace.

Hospitality.

And as I talked to my own mom, and was refreshed and encouraged by HER enthusiasm and confidence in me, I thought, "the kids I am about to meet will probably never hear their mom say what I get to hear from my own mother." If there is a mom who is not able to speak comfort and encouragement, or who chooses not to celebrate her child, I want to do it. I am discovering that mothering, for me, is not just about Jack and Joey. It is becoming about every child who needs a woman to speak gentle words and to offer fresh food and to cheer for all of the little victories.

So for me, that is what I have signed up for.

To mother.

To promote peace and offer hospitality.

Of course there will be all the details of living and of managing and of learning. I expect hurt. I expect frustration. I expect challenge. But I don't fear it. Because over all of those things I know that God is able to do more than I can ask or imagine. And when I ask for his peace to fill my new home and to bring rest to those who need it, I know that I am praying HIS heart and can expect to see his hand and meet him face to face.

Turning Our Hearts

Yes, it is true.

Andy and I are considering being "houseparents" for a truly incredible organization that welcomes foster children into home-models while they are in transition between being removed from their homes and being placed with permanent families.

...

Since relocating, Andy and I have been on a wild adventure of seeing God move in mighty ways on our behalf. It is remarkable what has happened in our spirits as we have made space to listen and interact with our Heavenly Father.

Originally, we decided to move for a "break." We wanted to take a year and refocus and step out of what was starting to feel like a cluttered life.

As our departure neared, and as we have been adjusting to the move, it has become more and more clear to us that while the idea of "something new" was the driving force in our move, it isn't the point.

A week before we left, Andy shared with me that while he felt like he was being obedient to the Lord in pursuing his teaching degree, it still somehow felt selfish. We had built a nice little plan revolving around summers off and comfortable houses and close family. But something was stirring in his heart, causing him to open up to possibilities beyond our plan.

Just two nights before we hit the road, one of the pastors at our church was praying. As he prayed it was one of those, "there is someone here..." prayers. He said that he felt there was "someone who was on a path, a path that might not be bad, but that God was asking them to turn from their path and work for other people's eternity."

Immediately Andy and I both knew he was talking to us. At that point, our move wasn't about a rest any more. It was about waiting to hear what that would mean for us, and opening our hearts to God's invitation to work intentionally and specifically for his glory.

Through a series of divine appointments we have met a couple who currently work full-time as houseparents in a home that serves as a transition place for foster children. They have a family of three boys of their own and currently host six foster kids.

As the husband was sharing what they do, and about the organization that he works for, both Andy and instantly knew that it was our next step to find out more about it. The ministry is called GAP Ministries and after two or three emails the directors asked to meet us for dinner. On Thursday we connected over the phone and I said Andy was off on Tuesdays and Wednesdays and we could meet any time in the next few weeks on those days. She disappointedly said, "You can't meet this weekend?" We made plans for an evening dinner yesterday and at the end of that dinner she said, "We are starting training for another couple on Tuesday and Wednesday if you want to come."

So we have spent the last two days touring houses that host kids (there are 10) and starting the process of training (there is a ton!).

So, the wheels are turning and we are moving toward a MAJOR adjustment in what we thought we would be doing. The ministry is extremely well run and Andy and I are both amazed at the thought they have put into how they operate.

We have committed to waking through the doors that keep opening until we see a great big red light. At this point, I don't expect to see that red light, so we are moving our minds and hearts toward planning to be foster parents for anywhere from 6-10 kids.

The job requires two full-time parents so it would mean that Andy would leave his job.

I feel so unqualified for such an undertaking, but I know that I can't turn away from this - I might be swallowed by a giant fish!!

From the moment we opened ourselves to participating in this ministry, everything has felt like confirmation. From the songs on the radio, to the bible stories I read to Jack, to things that we have talked about over the years that are coming to our minds in a fresh way, to the scriptures Andy and I have been reading on a daily basis.

This is what Andy read the other morning in The Message:

"So here's what I want you to do, God helping you: Take your everyday, ordinary life - your sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking-around life - and place it before God as an offering. Embracing what God does for you is the best thing you can do for him. Don't become so well-adjusted to your culture that you fit into it without even thinking. Instead, fix your attention on God. You'll be changed from the inside out. Readily recognize what he wants from you, and quickly respond to it."

Romans 12:1-2

We feel like we are being asked to surrender our "sleeping, eating, going-to-work, and walking around life" to a whole new way of existing. We are under no illusions that it will be easy or even fun, but we know that this is what we are to be faithful to now.

It is both terrifying and exhilarating to set our feet so firmly on a course that God has invited us to. So, as we continue in the process of learning a whole new way of living, and preparing our entire family for a life of ministry, we would so appreciate your prayers.

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.

It's Mine, All (Almost) Mine

Today marked a very special occasion.

I took myself out for my first, post-labor run/jog/walk. Mostly walk.

It felt sooooo good. I did a long route, knowing that I would be slow and sort of lumber along, which I did.

But I didn't care. It just felt good to move!

It also was wonderfully soothing to my spirit to be totally alone for an hour and to have my body to myself. My dear husband kept both boys and cheerfully sent me on my way.

I'm not sure if he was so cheerful about sending me out because I had been a total brat a few hours earlier and he didn't want to deal with me, or if he was so cheerful because he knew that I would come back a much more pleasant person. Probably a healthy dose of both!

I'm celebrating the accomplishment of getting out alone as well as getting active. I definitely feel like both are worth celebrating, as they take a lot more effort that they ever had before.

In order to leave Joey home, I had to pump a bottle for Andy to have to feed him. Have you ever had to pump? If you have, you know that is one of the worlds most awful activities.

Except when it means

that you can look forward to a

full night of sleep

(minus having to get up and pump)

because your darling husband

said, "If you have bottles for me

I'll get up with Joey tonight.

I think a full nights sleep would

be good for you."

Ohh... sleep. How I have missed you!

After effusive thanks, I said,

"Wow, I must have been acting

so terribly lately for you to offer

to get up in the night!"

Yes, it is true.

I have not been my most charming self

the last few days.

So sorry honey!

Okay, another side note:

One of the things I love

the very most about Andy

is how quickly he forgives.

I am not always nice

or perfect.

Each time I mess up and have to

apologize, he treats the

offense like it is no big

deal. He forgives me

and moves on with life.

What a gift!

I learn so much from him!

DISCLAIMER: If you are a man, I suggest you stop reading at this point. Not that I anticipate any men read this, but if you are a man and you do happen to read this, come back tomorrow for a more gender-friendly post. The following uses words like "lactating" and other referrals to breast milk and breast feeding. I'm pretty sure you don't even want to know...

Only slightly more awful than pumping, was my experience with purchasing a sports bra to accommodate my lactating self.

Earlier this week I went to get a new sports bra. I took about a million, okay, it was only four - because that is all that they had in my size, options into the fitting room (as well as a million pairs of black workout pants, which is not much of an exaggeration).

I made my selection for pants and moved on to the top-wear. The first bra option was pretty good. The second was a pass. The third... oh wait. I can't try on the third one because milk is POURING from my chest.

I didn't even know that could happen! Despite having recently fed my wee child, somehow my breasts decided that in the fitting room of Sports Authority was an appropriate time to gush fluid.

I'm so sorry if that is gross to you. It IS gross. But it HAPPENED. Don't worry, I checked all the garments to make sure I hadn't sullied any of them. I quickly dressed myself and covered my spurting chest. I took my pants and the bra that was adequate, and left the store.

While it took a little extra work and embarrassment to get ready to run, it was oh so worth it! I'm sure my legs will be tired tomorrow and I'm sure that it will continue to be a struggle to make exercise work, but Oh! I'm willing to do the work!

And now, with that happy reflection, I am off to another happy part of my day, resting my head on my pillow, with the freedom to keep it there the next time Joey calls for me...

Andy, I really do love you. Thank you!

Unbelievable!

I found myself today shaking my head in disbelief. How can God love me so much? How can he provide so fully for every need? How do I manage to forget that he cares for me when I am so constantly reminded of his provision?

Two weeks ago Andy unexpectedly lost his job.

He called me and let me know he was coming home early and why. My first reaction, before he got home, was tears. Mostly because I'm pregnant and a lot of the parts of my body seem to function on their own accord.

Despite the initial flow of tears, my overriding thought was, "This is okay."

Andy got home and I heard what happened and we talked and we both felt the same way, like God had something amazing in store and that better things were ahead. What could have been a crisis, either to us as individuals or in our marriage, is instead an opportunity for a new adventure.

So much has happened in my spirit the last two weeks. I have grown in gratitude for my husband, who loves and trusts the Lord. I have seen scriptures that I skimmed over in their familiarity come to life in new ways. And I have experienced the grace of God - the kind of grace that makes me draw a breath and worship in amazement.

We don't know what the next step will be as far as employment, but we do know that our landlords have offered to let us live, RENT FREE, indefinitely. Our other expenses are covered for the time being through unemployment. Not only has God seen fit to provide for our practical needs, he also prompted an acquaintance of ours to gift Andy with four tickets (face valued at $300) to the Apple Cup (a dream for Andy!) next weekend and an additional gift from some dear friends that means we don't have to stress about buying Christmas presents. The same day another friend dropped by two nights worth of dinner complete with desert and sparkling juice.

Who am I to deserve such love?

Who is this God that I serve that provides so much more than I can ask or imagine?

What is ahead?

I don't know what is next for us, but it truly must be something wonderful. And even if it doesn't seem wonderful right away, I will celebrate that my God is good and loving and faithful and generous.

God is good.

The Plan

Have I ever told you that I have the most lovely parents a girl could ask for? When I was growing up I was never shy to announce who my mom and dad were. After saying their names I would usually add some sort of comment about how wonderful they were and whoever was listening to me would grin to hear a teenage girl talk about her mom and dad with such adoration.

My parents are still wonderful. They have done an incredible job growing with me and launching me into this world. They are still a resource for me when I'm melting down or have "how to" questions, but they have understood how to be that while letting me be my own adult and try things a different way then they have.

Delightful.

I love talking about my folks!

A lot of the things my parents had to say over and over again as I grew up still stick with me today. The one that leads me into my topic of discussion this morning is from my dad.

"Emily, you are fixating."

Simple as that. He would use it when I wanted something and I just HAD TO HAVE IT and would pester and cry until I got it (or got over it). Or sometimes, if I wanted him to do something for me at a very inconvenient time and was not willing to wait pleasantly he would pull it out and lay it on the table.

When Lizzie and I talk we still use it to describe ourselves sometimes. "I'm totally fixating on ... fill in the blank."

Well, I am currently fixating on redecorating my house. This is an obsession that waxes and wanes. Chalk it up to baby-nesting, or just plain need-a-change, but I can't stop thinking about projects right now.

The problem with this is that projects are expensive. Andy and I try our hardest to keep to a budget and be wise with our money. We don't always make awesome choices but we don't usually go overboard. We aren't perfect, but it is something we think about and talk about on a regular basis.

In the past few months I have been sending my dear husband very mixed messages. One day I will ask what he thinks about getting more aggressive with our savings plan and squirreling away all our extra pennies. The next day (literally) I will ask him if I can go spend $60 dollars on a house project.

That is not a clear signal I am sending.

But sweet Andy doesn't bat an eyelash (do boys bat eyelashes anyway?) and he just waits for me to settle down and figure out what I want.

And I have.

I've made a plan.

Twice a month we take cash out of the ATM for our groceries, eating out, baby needs, our personal allowance, etc. The idea is that we only spend that amount and once it is spent, we don't spend any more.

Where I get in trouble is when I want a new sweater and just use my debit card, or when I want to go out to dinner somewhere that we would blow our whole eating out budget in one go. I also get in trouble at Starbucks, but that is another matter. All those extra purchases on our debit card or those "I need a break" outings really add up and sabotage our efforts at living on a budget.

So my plan, and my commitment to Andy is this: I will not ask for anything above our allotted budget for SIX MONTHS. That means if we go through our eating out money in a week, I will not pout about having to cook all the following week. Or, if I anticipate wanting a new pair of boots, I will not think of it as an "extra" but will save up my personal allowance (instead of my frequent trips to Starbucks) to buy them.

The benefit of the plan is this: whatever money is left in each category at the time when we "refill" can be used for household projects. SO.... If I am diligent to do my grocery shopping frugally, I can use that cash for supplies to paint my furniture. Or if I make more of our meals at home, I can use the extra there to buy a new bedspread.

Make sense?

I am actually so excited about this plan. It gives me great incentive to pay more attention to how I am spending our money. Each little item (Starbucks anyone?) is now viewed in light of, "Would I rather have this cup of coffee, or put this money toward buying new curtains?" Not only does it make my dream projects a possibility, it also relieves Andy of my fickle and confusing ways.

Well, not all of them, but at least this one.

So friends, cheer me on in this endeavor. I know that old habits die hard and that my enthusiasm for watching my nickels and dimes is fresh now, but will soon be tested by a pumpkin spice latte or bright Target scarf.

I know that delayed gratification is a healthy thing. I also know six months is a long time to feel "restricted" in any area. So, this really will be a challenge, but I think I'm up for it. I'll keep you posted!

Longing

Okay, so I know I just posted the pictures of Jack's haircut and you are probably thinking, "Emily, why didn't you just make one post instead of two different ones?  Silly girl."

Well, you are right about the silly part, but I do have a line of reasoning that at one time sounded logical to me. 

I'm not sure about that now.

You can judge:

1. My last several posts have been VERY long and I was trying to practice brevity today.
2. I thought I would save this post (not all the explaining part, but what will come) for tomorrow so that I would have something to entertain you with, but it won't leave my mind so I have to do it NOW.
3. I wanted to tell you about Jack's trim, but it didn't really flow with my other thoughts.
4. I'm just like that some times.
   

So here is what I have been thinking: 

Do you have in mind a way that you find yourself asking God to use you?  Is there something that just calls to you, but you know you can't tackle with your own strength?

That might not be clear.  Let me try again.

For example.  Do you really wish you could influence high schoolers to develop a sincere and deep relationship with God?  Do you ask God to give you the gift of healing, even while at the same time you would be terrified if he actually did?  Do you long to be used to lead individuals to a place of intimacy with their Creator through worship?

I long to be used.  But I am afraid of it too.  To open myself up to be sent, to be available, to be obedient means that I relinquish control.  It means that my actions would reflect GOD's glory, not feed my own selfish ambition.  It means that I might see miracles and I honestly don't know how I would respond to signs and wonders.

I love Jesus.  I am grateful.  I pray, read my bible and journal.  At the same time I am immersed in a culture of depression, cynicism and judgment, not to mention the "I did it my way" mentality that is so forcefully promoted.  To be called by a big God means that he might actually do big things around me.  I might be "that weird Christian girl."

That is just a tiny bit scary. 

But it is what I crave.

I know that I honor God by loving my husband, by stewarding well what He has given us, by praying over my baby.  I also know that my faithfulness with the little things is essential.  I can't help but wonder though, will I ever be trusted with something bigger?

But big and little are my own definitions.  I am certain that God does not see the impact of me cheering on my husband as any less important than a pastor preaching to hundreds or a worship leader writing a beautiful song.  My scope is so limited.  God sees the ripples that go out from my obedience and, to HIM, they matter.  

If I could choose where to be sent, I would choose hurting marriages.  It feels foolish to even say.  Andy and I have been wed for two years, which is not all that long, but in those two years I have been so challenged and rewarded.  I have seen how easily bad habits form and I have experienced the deep joy that comes from being in a unified relationship.

We have all heard, "marriage takes work." No matter how much it is touted, it is still ambiguous.  What does that mean? What kind of work? 

I think, by God's infinite grace, I am starting to understand.

I hurt for husbands and wives who seem burdened by their wedding bands.  I am pained to hear sharp criticism come from the mouth of a woman toward her spouse, whether he is present or not. I am crushed to see my peers buried in busyness, obligation and performance instead of filled with life and freedom.

A sense of urgency has been growing in my spirit.  It cannot wait until I am "more experienced" or "older" or whatever.  If my spirit is stirred, it is called.  

Yet I am still afraid. 

I think that fear is good.  It reminds me that I, Emily, will not be the one to change marriages.  I, Emily, will not be the one to speak truth.  I, Emily, am simply a woman who has opened herself to Jesus Christ to be used as HE sees fit.  

"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom..." Proverbs 9:10

"Don't let anyone look down on you because you are young, but set an example for the believers in speech, in life, in love, in faith and in purity."  1 Timothy 4:12

So I set forth today, acknowledging to you all that I have opened myself up to God's lead in a fresh way.  Until I see the next step, I will stand tall in my youth, inexperience and fear, and believe that God is my god and he is delighted to send me. 

Your prayers are greatly appreciated.  

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.

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.  

Facebook

Facebook.

Meh.

(Thanks for the word MEH Rosemary.  It will come in handy often, I can see that.)

I am pretty impressed with how many people show up as "people you might know" that I actually DO know, but I'm not really sure what to do now that I have a Facebook profile.  

What's the  point?

In other news, I was struck today by the fact that every compartment of my purse has at least one lip product in it.  I have a total of seven.  I'm sure that compared to some people, that is not a lot, but I was kind of amazed at the discovery.  Especially when I found myself justifying every one.

Burt's Bees Honey Lip Balm I need this one for when I can't find any of the ones that I really like.  It smells strongly of baby powder so I can only wear it when I know I won't be kissing Andy. Who wants to feel like they are kissing a baby's bottom?  I actually can't wear it around anybody it smells so weird.  I put it on one time in the car while I was riding with a friend and as soon as I put it on she said, "Do you smell that?  What is it?!" in a grossed out sort of voice. I had to suggest that it might just possibly be my "just in case" lip balm, which it was.  Okay, so maybe it is time to get rid of this one.

Burt's Bees Replenishing Lip Balm with pomegranate oil My FAVORITE.  It smells so nice and makes my lips feel so smooth and fresh.  My best kissing option.  

Goldie Lip Plumper  Okay, this is my other favorite.  I put it on over any color I use and my lips look like I should be a lip model.  After a fresh application Andy says, "Ooh, your lips look all kissable!"  but they aren't really because it is a little sticky and leaves that tingling sensation that means my lips are being plumped. Good for girls, not for boys.

C.O. Bigelow Vitamin Menta Tinted Lip Balm in Glacial Mint AND Baby Pink Mint (I also have Brown Betty Mint in my make up bag in the bathroom) This is my favorite color to have on hand.  It keeps my lips from looking pale, as they are apt to do, but its best feature is that it is super minty, so if my mouth feels funky and I'm out of gum, this at least covers the bad breath long enough to get to a tooth brush or drug store. 

Liplicious Tasty Lip Plumper in Candied Apple  This was the color I used before Baby Pink Mint.  Now that I have that, it seems redundant to keep it in my purse.  It's plumping powers pale in comparison to my Goldie and the color is only so so.  I guess this is where we part ways Liplicous. 

Garden Botanica lipstick in Sweet Joe The color standby.  I'll keep this one on hand because it also doubles as a little cheek color if I need it, which I always always do.  Poor pale me.

So anyway, now that you are up to speed on my lips, how 'bout that Facebook?  Lame, eh?  Or do I just not know it's connective powers?  Will I ever be as interested in FB as I am in lip gloss? I suppose only time will tell.

  

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?