tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-13019495966587089922024-03-04T23:29:09.367-08:00c johntAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.comBlogger172125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-18858466312413535982016-06-17T15:42:00.000-07:002016-06-17T15:42:57.997-07:00Heuristic Leaning<div>
I feel as if I've become something of an insomniac. That's dramatic, I've become a night owl. What has happened is that my baby is no longer a baby and my toddler doesn't put up a wild debate every night about bedtime. So when operation put-kids-to-bed is finished I actually have a little bit of energy left.<br />
<br />
At night my mind comes unwound from the tight coils wrapped around my day-to-day living. Emotions and to-dos had turned around themselves and then crossed over fears, some doubts, making its way back around to joy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNpvqA6Z3PS6gOA2sJdPveugWyu-LWZ0UuIUfjyobj_35ib8hsNoSaEg0oDQP-Z17X0SHMY2d2GG2IB8ipZ4_enCn_IO7aCEH9j2YqudBXKQu1e_AAV1AUiVgqT_PyFH568w5M7RE6ZNo/s1600/IMG_0958.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgNpvqA6Z3PS6gOA2sJdPveugWyu-LWZ0UuIUfjyobj_35ib8hsNoSaEg0oDQP-Z17X0SHMY2d2GG2IB8ipZ4_enCn_IO7aCEH9j2YqudBXKQu1e_AAV1AUiVgqT_PyFH568w5M7RE6ZNo/s640/IMG_0958.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Some mornings start out in a slow long line, they rise or fall, veer left or right until the pace of productivity sets and we're off rounding bend after bend. There are days that start with a screaming baby in early hours, or a migraine (thank you hormones). Those mornings jerk me into a coiled spring so small and tight I could slip between your toes and be trampled underfoot. Most common are the days we wind around ourselves with the routine of thoughts, commands, events- coffee, shower, ask nicely, don't climb on the table, let's get dressed, don't argue with me, yes you are arguing with me, where's a binky? </div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But coiling isn't a rotten nasty curse of humanity. It gives me the tension to jump further, push deep into the day and come out ahead. At every curve there's a questioned motive or underlying message. All those moments are speaking something, something I can be taught by. I like to think all this reflection makes me a sensei in my own right.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXtyuRSnzBBlO7hJ8o_DvGbBzJ3SpJwB_JbzZwn4_g0Z3aDxjCNQyy64Pl_pruF65ma2qndtwKxxArWTArwwFDfBUu8bB8K2kWK1_7gTwCc69IFX9aJOkRDrCewueFIc9aP-NisM2NIwE/s1600/IMG_0959.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiXtyuRSnzBBlO7hJ8o_DvGbBzJ3SpJwB_JbzZwn4_g0Z3aDxjCNQyy64Pl_pruF65ma2qndtwKxxArWTArwwFDfBUu8bB8K2kWK1_7gTwCc69IFX9aJOkRDrCewueFIc9aP-NisM2NIwE/s640/IMG_0959.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;">
And when the kids are quieted in their beds and my mind is free to think its own thoughts, my life spins round my head. The words I spoke, frustrations, questions, and deep down longings. It's all there. A mess of multicolored threads going this way and that. </div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
The real problem is this. What I want, and have always wanted, I won't get. I've been waiting for someone to show me the blueprints for my life. To point out why every screw and board and wall has been constructed. While I trust God is building my life, I would have really preferred a more open line of communication about it all. I don't want to show up at the end to find out what was happening, and I don't want to wait for retirement or an empty nest to live the things I really love. I want to be in on the plan, getting it all done now.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicMIhZIPlPnsijdRP7Im_XxPJB1wcJqUI-6nKw55GJysT1jTDtrXPrJGQkOcKowpGbbOori7aF_y0X1dAj0uplVq2pLsPHkdwkNjJiQ_RhRkKI9lHYPWpRGa3B2CXSrpfZlzFpX8IoU_A/s1600/IMG_0954.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicMIhZIPlPnsijdRP7Im_XxPJB1wcJqUI-6nKw55GJysT1jTDtrXPrJGQkOcKowpGbbOori7aF_y0X1dAj0uplVq2pLsPHkdwkNjJiQ_RhRkKI9lHYPWpRGa3B2CXSrpfZlzFpX8IoU_A/s640/IMG_0954.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
What I really can't grasp is that God cares more about the me that's involved in the plan than the actual plan. I'm far too anxious to comprehend how someone could be so hands-off. But heuristic learning doesn't frighten Him. All my wanderings He watches and counts as significant journeys. The seasons of long graceful strokes and the ones where day after day small dots gradually reveal something of movement; learning by discovery, learning by leaning into the moment and its whispered dreams.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Whether roads are rocky, wide, or barren, He's there. His very presence making a way before me. Making feet like a deer and streams in the desert He sustains me; the sun to rise and set a path He leads me. And all the anecdotes I've heard of giving up to gain ease my heart into peace so that slumber can fall.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwjjTSrJMCiPeG_kl0tOa0btrQ4p62neCaGMNy7nAospWEytuCl4JeTsBeFqlfnxXfvXT1kW6dNUsx1yQ2SKsprEFRX6GJFjrjCYKUcyZOyqm9WJPGHNSEsM_dIlaxKqe8xux5gN9zAGQ/s1600/IMG_0956.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwjjTSrJMCiPeG_kl0tOa0btrQ4p62neCaGMNy7nAospWEytuCl4JeTsBeFqlfnxXfvXT1kW6dNUsx1yQ2SKsprEFRX6GJFjrjCYKUcyZOyqm9WJPGHNSEsM_dIlaxKqe8xux5gN9zAGQ/s640/IMG_0956.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-22544462057708056632016-02-29T22:38:00.001-08:002016-02-29T23:19:30.871-08:00Can't Tame This Heart<br />
<i>For what brings grace and liberty to one, condemns with weight and death to another.</i><br />
<br />
I'm going on week three, this phrase pounding in my heart, prying apart duty and calling. Embracing this truth is unwinding miles of knotted wandering, years of struggling to find where my lines fall. From every angle, an opinion for how my road should travel. I could take these early years of my babies' lives slow and steady, pour every ounce of my attention into their souls. I could run hard and fast after the dreams (big or small) that keep me up late into the night. I could let my house rest in mess. I could work my body hard, trained to fight laziness and apathy. These wouldn't be in vain or waste, causing my life to shine, and yet my soul could be dying.<br />
<br />
If these last eight years could say anything, most likely, they would say <i>don't doubt it.</i> About a dozen things I expected (or outright declared) I would never do, I've excitedly and whole-heartedly pursued. These divergencies could bring dismay, but I'm clinging tightly to the grace I've received. It's the grace to work outside the home, sow into my children by exampling a woman who loves life. Grace to stay out way too late, squeeze in a few hours of sleep, and make up the difference later. Grace to lock the bathroom door for five minutes to regain my sanity. Grace to believe things that aren't popular.<br />
<br />
There are overloaded bookshelves of self-helps and blogposts cheering us on, but somehow I still feel that we're missing one cosmic gap. A hundred thousand wild spirits are beckoned to follow a calling only intended for a handful, and a pile of knotted cord is benching our best players. Tragedy is a life lived in fear, turning all-stars into bench-warmers.<br />
<br />
Many days I've wished for no burning heart to tame. But I'm no good at that. It's just too much weight and I've never been good at faking. I love change, progress, finding solutions, making improvements. Right now they carry me out my front door and don't let my mind rest. What seemed to be so hard, is too hard to ignore. I can't tame this heart.<br />
<br />
And it's truly amazing how this letting go of law has caused truth, the real 100%-don't-doubt-God's-opinion truth, to go so much deeper. Where tangled up roots made my mind hard and rocky, liberating love has allowed my convictions to go deeper still.<br />
<br />
Fear wants to speak filthily that the baby will be thrown out with the bathwater, but God always rushes in to show His great Love that isn't threatened by our wandering off the beaten path.<br />
<br />
"A great gift of any adult to a child, seems to me, is to love what you do in front of the child." - Fred Rogers<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMLu5AteUMQv_cXIK8Ket4Z8Z9mrjBrwCA9wF-ImaXkLVYyoK6kcrT6Svq9rH1Nmcszu4d8gH3VsWgGMsLYgTxqyOJElR0K3IO3I-txbpPtw7WhqkzVq4djta0KmpiVy2NHK-uwrGE_v0/s1600/IMG_8877.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiMLu5AteUMQv_cXIK8Ket4Z8Z9mrjBrwCA9wF-ImaXkLVYyoK6kcrT6Svq9rH1Nmcszu4d8gH3VsWgGMsLYgTxqyOJElR0K3IO3I-txbpPtw7WhqkzVq4djta0KmpiVy2NHK-uwrGE_v0/s640/IMG_8877.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvAl082kIIMQVVdRyMygU3Om-HKj3WTezUAP_WUk8qpbbijZ6ZwGALeBE6fshOuu92-9AiaWH9vlgbvPArvPHOiqTZtwIdrDclxKjwRzU4XZZEjW8xxji5hkVsTB5JfSHU3Zv7idCsRGQ/s1600/IMG_8875.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvAl082kIIMQVVdRyMygU3Om-HKj3WTezUAP_WUk8qpbbijZ6ZwGALeBE6fshOuu92-9AiaWH9vlgbvPArvPHOiqTZtwIdrDclxKjwRzU4XZZEjW8xxji5hkVsTB5JfSHU3Zv7idCsRGQ/s640/IMG_8875.jpg" width="640" /></a><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkx_hUa5VxsDiHJS8yGYgWWHGyVD8O5zbHC4uIFJnBz4TwwDsIVdU_gd54XMXm0JrUcI3Nppi3kNIHhcnhOI8ilWKMQhmzwhUArJu0nAgJW6ss5aSVfU9ewBJHqTcqGPegDwKeIi-neY/s1600/IMG_8876.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKkx_hUa5VxsDiHJS8yGYgWWHGyVD8O5zbHC4uIFJnBz4TwwDsIVdU_gd54XMXm0JrUcI3Nppi3kNIHhcnhOI8ilWKMQhmzwhUArJu0nAgJW6ss5aSVfU9ewBJHqTcqGPegDwKeIi-neY/s640/IMG_8876.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrqgehyphenhyphentRX6cxK8ul-zgdWU336yFubyAINfbeBuKDv71cVxe01G9qB7yPlmWD557JBtnCToG-vrDlH6QG5gFaW9FARfa4N7SY5D5Ve92S9hwHNb5wX4whpCRwWW_QEYP0OLn98X6ftGr0/s1600/IMG_8874.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgrqgehyphenhyphentRX6cxK8ul-zgdWU336yFubyAINfbeBuKDv71cVxe01G9qB7yPlmWD557JBtnCToG-vrDlH6QG5gFaW9FARfa4N7SY5D5Ve92S9hwHNb5wX4whpCRwWW_QEYP0OLn98X6ftGr0/s640/IMG_8874.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-81855516184538012732015-12-22T09:47:00.000-08:002016-06-17T16:26:18.824-07:00Never Ending KingdomCenturies of wandering and wars; through miracles, prophecies, and justice- God was speaking Himself. And then in holy obscurity unto us was birthed, to all of creation, the entirety of God.<br /><br />Comfort and joy came, showing the way to live life full. Yet we turn our souls to the earth, straining to find light in contrite happenings. And why do we hasten to label all this goodness as hate? When God reached down to bring heaven and earth together, we saw rules and separation.<br /><br />But grace is not defined by our finite minds.<br /><br />I can't get away from this revelation that everything God is, everything He was aching to express to us, He gave in His Son Jesus; born in a humble barn among the lowliest of creatures. We get to know and love and live the truth of who God is. What a blessed gift we have received.<br /><br />Hallelujah that the God of all creation pursues even the furthest soul- obstinate and sure they have no need.<br /><br />And even if you don't want to accept that Savior, it is His light that will overcome all darkness. For His kingdom has no end.<br /><br /> <br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6U83gfuwhpszllTKRBdvfhNlWraROiyDWqB9FfkHlR9NIhollvwuQAqMJhyVlCHA-hurH2P2CNjlEYsAG_g-6vy3YlxRMhqnIaq1AdFYtuXMxIXgzgFAXhSzSltaPDr_XPIgnygv6KeM/s1600/H+Family-7.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6U83gfuwhpszllTKRBdvfhNlWraROiyDWqB9FfkHlR9NIhollvwuQAqMJhyVlCHA-hurH2P2CNjlEYsAG_g-6vy3YlxRMhqnIaq1AdFYtuXMxIXgzgFAXhSzSltaPDr_XPIgnygv6KeM/s640/H+Family-7.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-50276410875116315442015-11-05T07:48:00.000-08:002016-02-29T23:20:46.636-08:00Nobody's HeroThey say hard work pays off, but this payoff I can't work hard enough for. I'll make the circles in my prayers and cry the tears to sow those seeds deep, but my own two hands can't accomplish the miracle of growth. This overworked body is broken down. All my problem-solving skills have been adding, multiplying, and subtracting everything I can. How do we approach this from a different angle, find that hidden passage, so we conquer and move on to awaiting battlefields. These horrible prisons we've made for ourselves of ideals, holding tight even after the scarring of shattered promises.<br />
<br />
As a mother, wife, sister, daughter, friend, human. I cannot solve all these. Tomorrow may be another fruitless day, no end to problems.<br />
<br />
It's too easy to rely on a person or a program to heal this hurting world. All the good intentions and tax dollars in the world won't bring the solution.<br />
<br />
But gracious if we can't hold tight to faith, hope, and love.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFiHR1fho-MbX6jhsedIZ5YCx5M1k0xRi1EuVAQChLYG4N-vPuMMOaSK9cdivgZ7uEBqeeQM-8o5T_YvwWuqplScdWWWrYhVnOr4m8rnWqFyw6A_Rcmd2KQKmjPplVEw-1iAPP6TrPNLk/s1600/IMG_5976.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFiHR1fho-MbX6jhsedIZ5YCx5M1k0xRi1EuVAQChLYG4N-vPuMMOaSK9cdivgZ7uEBqeeQM-8o5T_YvwWuqplScdWWWrYhVnOr4m8rnWqFyw6A_Rcmd2KQKmjPplVEw-1iAPP6TrPNLk/s640/IMG_5976.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd6jTrVUpTdbxfvGa6U1SErB4_JUm8m5E89NlUILrlTaA30u0ZNJYixfYRhkb_wjHFxgxB2PMr7vkKz3L7_EbI39Y_Ck9SwthlF3U1YwEu2wGhSqe-9FYw8uQR9XSbjKeepAMRMA5lefw/s1600/IMG_5936.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhd6jTrVUpTdbxfvGa6U1SErB4_JUm8m5E89NlUILrlTaA30u0ZNJYixfYRhkb_wjHFxgxB2PMr7vkKz3L7_EbI39Y_Ck9SwthlF3U1YwEu2wGhSqe-9FYw8uQR9XSbjKeepAMRMA5lefw/s640/IMG_5936.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEqjy9PQpU-DFBE7AuVfRYxdKBBMxZurmjdkEErTEDtW6xo1Xv3wBMoVFMfFozWPVzwJ0K9cJ5dIigr8YuWbOlEAJHsKTZuIbbe1WThDxmXeM26ej6Ckc1zK6jqSpjindTNwXeM5BPVlM/s1600/IMG_6131.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiEqjy9PQpU-DFBE7AuVfRYxdKBBMxZurmjdkEErTEDtW6xo1Xv3wBMoVFMfFozWPVzwJ0K9cJ5dIigr8YuWbOlEAJHsKTZuIbbe1WThDxmXeM26ej6Ckc1zK6jqSpjindTNwXeM5BPVlM/s640/IMG_6131.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-6939240651408144912015-10-19T20:50:00.000-07:002015-10-19T20:50:04.736-07:00Good GravyAll these tired bodies. So weary from attempted proving. I am enough. I am alright. I am making it to the other end of this winding road, this winded breath.<br />
<br />
Why can't we embrace the pause? To survive this cosmic swirl, inhale the chaos and exhale grace.<br />
<br />
I am not a survivor. I'm not scraping by, just making it to the next vacation from a life of problems. I'm a thriver. I take all this mess and scrape it together into beauty; into the good that is my life.<br />
<br />
Good glory. Make my life something holy. Above the grime of tantrums and patience run out.<br />
<br />
Not only for the lives living like me- wives and mothers. For the outside, upside, inside out. We're all in this together. Racing humans to find that prize.<br />
<br />
The most demanding part is giving up the reigns. I don't control my life, my child, my friend. We each take what we have and go where we must, fighting upstream to our Spirit's broad pasture.<br />
<br />
Hardest working doesn't mean best receiving. But investing heart and soul, we always reap what we sow.<br />
<br />
If I compare and contrast these last years given to husband, child, and another child, I must exclaim- "What strength was lain under tranquil waters!"<br />
<br />
All that I needed to learn and to love, waiting for the push, tug, pull of giving.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjmitZotfFFjLLDu5BS_xE4sRinEfr0sxcJGfA031QQzQkDxZoD4CiNbrhx7G_-EVAis7h3zji9k2bw57rqvuCWOZk2Lf3DW8iYQbUt6sHOyurk3BiEpgbb6hyRZCPe5NwLvBm5p9bq-Y/s1600/IMG_6254.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhjmitZotfFFjLLDu5BS_xE4sRinEfr0sxcJGfA031QQzQkDxZoD4CiNbrhx7G_-EVAis7h3zji9k2bw57rqvuCWOZk2Lf3DW8iYQbUt6sHOyurk3BiEpgbb6hyRZCPe5NwLvBm5p9bq-Y/s640/IMG_6254.JPG" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh34o2LooJdEXw2-W49UUm8GVl8PJMldg-sxLIdZAzsraYedUTj93yXbo5T9H1mypawffILwwjPNnRyg8ntn-DkMgdc0MYtDyuekUEvRSSjHQnNN0l37gDi6pCLdY2hXcNdlUDSxnYbUAw/s1600/IMG_6041.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh34o2LooJdEXw2-W49UUm8GVl8PJMldg-sxLIdZAzsraYedUTj93yXbo5T9H1mypawffILwwjPNnRyg8ntn-DkMgdc0MYtDyuekUEvRSSjHQnNN0l37gDi6pCLdY2hXcNdlUDSxnYbUAw/s640/IMG_6041.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeUObdrem7rfarE0OERsKJg3eYJUgIvjwp2BrCVvLnkr6JtlrfnW8BoNGQawkYfxRClTa3zbfOXC9vcoAltGPzhGtlJ0d6YQ7hjFGiAIFbURT0RZmi614C1fXgsxySXUl5S11HgqtKXs/s1600/IMG_6043.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHeUObdrem7rfarE0OERsKJg3eYJUgIvjwp2BrCVvLnkr6JtlrfnW8BoNGQawkYfxRClTa3zbfOXC9vcoAltGPzhGtlJ0d6YQ7hjFGiAIFbURT0RZmi614C1fXgsxySXUl5S11HgqtKXs/s640/IMG_6043.JPG" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicBq3Zk1YNngpPrTwaWqh9qQ6qakVw2kD1Xq2Ro6f679vV6GW3xTIdBScMG5nmI1xh3YNDwWMpTzxHSy6ozKSrK9_4wIyAGffzL6iVu2y3BEbu6PODvmV270LakQ_L9cVrSuCeYtpSEUs/s640/blogger-image--662784654.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="636" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEicBq3Zk1YNngpPrTwaWqh9qQ6qakVw2kD1Xq2Ro6f679vV6GW3xTIdBScMG5nmI1xh3YNDwWMpTzxHSy6ozKSrK9_4wIyAGffzL6iVu2y3BEbu6PODvmV270LakQ_L9cVrSuCeYtpSEUs/s640/blogger-image--662784654.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWr6h83lJQkfCyabkA8d3R7-e6vSj43gZCWwixqc3u5rw2xvSktqVAJmTsGbwUOgK7P4ciBrBvrNO7qX5l4vG8f4Om26CWG4ehZ_wo4qFVsfNl2YT7OMEJ66INvruFu4n1X_PQT14hPkE/s640/blogger-image--1975605611.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="512" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWr6h83lJQkfCyabkA8d3R7-e6vSj43gZCWwixqc3u5rw2xvSktqVAJmTsGbwUOgK7P4ciBrBvrNO7qX5l4vG8f4Om26CWG4ehZ_wo4qFVsfNl2YT7OMEJ66INvruFu4n1X_PQT14hPkE/s640/blogger-image--1975605611.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-30102134392624032082015-06-12T16:25:00.001-07:002015-06-12T16:25:45.103-07:00If I Could Turn Back TimeThis human race is, and most likely always will be, obsessed with time travel. Books and movies overflow shelves with their speculating scenes and scenarios. Attempting to teach the past all the things the future wish they'd known.<br />
<br />
I don't like carrying regrets or if-onlys around with me. They cause too much introspection. They steal too much from today. But the lessons learned, those are invaluable. People say live and learn, I think it's healthy to make note of the lessons we've learned so we don't forget to live by them.<br />
<br />
Revisiting my high-school-self I would tell her all that loneliness was forming so much strength. I would affirm the wacky uniqueness she possessed but felt so uncomfortable in, so sure that it was something to shed before she could become an adult, before she could find her "soul connection". I'd let my first-and-only-relationship-self relish every midday walk and coffee date. I would congratulate her for her grounded-ness and the good chunk of money they saved up together. I would tell my first-time-mommy-self she is doing great, even when she feels like she's lost in a stormy sea of crying and emotional turbulence. I would let her know that yes, old things have passed away- days of doing what she wants when she wants. But a new thing has come- new contentment of simply loving and being loved in a way only a mother and child can.<br />
<br />
If I could turn back time mostly I would tell myself to let go and live. All my eyeing the progressions and possessions of another's life only returned resentment and fear. Worry is such a wicked curse, whispering that what we know now is reality forever. But when we live by our lessons, the truth is undeniable—this too shall pass.<br />
<br />
In three years I'll look back on my two-kids-self and command a slowing down of time. The nights at home rocking babies to sleep will seem so sweet, park play dates precious and pure. Maybe I'll even miss the spitting up and blow-out diapers. But most likely not.<br />
<br />
<br />
<div style="text-align: center;">
---</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">My response is to get down on my knees before the Father, this magnificent Father who parcels out all heaven and earth. I ask him to strengthen you by his Spirit—not a brute strength but a glorious inner strength—that Christ will live in you as you open the door and invite him in. And I ask him that with both feet planted firmly on love, you’ll be able to take in with all followers of Jesus the extravagant dimensions of Christ’s love. Reach out and experience the breadth! Test its length! Plumb the depths! Rise to the heights! Live full lives, full in the fullness of God. (Eph. 3:14-19 MSG)</span></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx1qvpKqwG43UzEr-JTUq2YEHLyFNWuf1M-Hpm0CVYAAb9bwmUjUJQWFA81GF02QKzZ1KDrCXaJggw0OZiw7P3-8pHDXoPhsTs2ADitXzt1bOqjYV5oRQLN6-VIsiKuhArH78BdWIxAoc/s1600/2015-05-09+16.32.08-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgx1qvpKqwG43UzEr-JTUq2YEHLyFNWuf1M-Hpm0CVYAAb9bwmUjUJQWFA81GF02QKzZ1KDrCXaJggw0OZiw7P3-8pHDXoPhsTs2ADitXzt1bOqjYV5oRQLN6-VIsiKuhArH78BdWIxAoc/s640/2015-05-09+16.32.08-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxZ0iXfWUtKVNs-p55eQLLNJiU7cyJ6IwIAw8SGL7jyhZt5Dx1zBcubcGhJJbF6mXIAVeuN0opBl5bCVH846bbi862f96l3xSZdHmI6pa1llKgxkqepLaIk33y3FSqBCW5eQdD-uMgzsw/s1600/2015-05-10+12.02.45-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxZ0iXfWUtKVNs-p55eQLLNJiU7cyJ6IwIAw8SGL7jyhZt5Dx1zBcubcGhJJbF6mXIAVeuN0opBl5bCVH846bbi862f96l3xSZdHmI6pa1llKgxkqepLaIk33y3FSqBCW5eQdD-uMgzsw/s640/2015-05-10+12.02.45-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7-IMKU-oDKYsUmoP395oEbN_-GaFbuYQSbdDxXTxsCDE8nb1GpVYgxnHxAww2o-YbNE7ZYVjc6eNbuTnQEAIU9q9H2weZVVks3H6e5ciifudqNdhuoMGDH5mZlkzbGe2TGveQFCZTZ18/s1600/2015-05-29+15.42.42.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7-IMKU-oDKYsUmoP395oEbN_-GaFbuYQSbdDxXTxsCDE8nb1GpVYgxnHxAww2o-YbNE7ZYVjc6eNbuTnQEAIU9q9H2weZVVks3H6e5ciifudqNdhuoMGDH5mZlkzbGe2TGveQFCZTZ18/s640/2015-05-29+15.42.42.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUU9isJGd_9-8kngjKaPFM1gsSj6Nv5oPWUxJ9es83vtyPSCADTBDzGRw22-IPnaL3YXnTvDggm5q8nHHbxj3RKBcJRt3C2RfHOmaBFllAqR3h-82MQMn7zwWgA4VUnjTsqi8xjzP1D8/s1600/2015-05-30+11.05.44-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiAUU9isJGd_9-8kngjKaPFM1gsSj6Nv5oPWUxJ9es83vtyPSCADTBDzGRw22-IPnaL3YXnTvDggm5q8nHHbxj3RKBcJRt3C2RfHOmaBFllAqR3h-82MQMn7zwWgA4VUnjTsqi8xjzP1D8/s640/2015-05-30+11.05.44-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5svIVBbIR55gzEiE0YAAn-d4zsxL4DvpkyLuJ4oYSxMqZBPbIf1_ResN0dgM6AIrDVpItF2wdL2suyFVuzYbv46whdo85-sVNMQN1p7a-z7Cc5r7x2iUR1SFTIzy4JYqxZGaywZHJzKQ/s1600/2015-06-05+13.50.15+HDR.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi5svIVBbIR55gzEiE0YAAn-d4zsxL4DvpkyLuJ4oYSxMqZBPbIf1_ResN0dgM6AIrDVpItF2wdL2suyFVuzYbv46whdo85-sVNMQN1p7a-z7Cc5r7x2iUR1SFTIzy4JYqxZGaywZHJzKQ/s640/2015-06-05+13.50.15+HDR.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSEpaZNi5_AZDzGB3rKP9smtulA4onkV0iC58IQYNMq2hpO0-YX6n2A2HT8n3OCqm2C6bH0EocHYLWjBQJC9cTDQ1jSWGW7v_TkGTeN2x12uxTabPx3MBWIAp6_c831rl0hC1If668jiA/s1600/2015-06-05+17.15.09.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhSEpaZNi5_AZDzGB3rKP9smtulA4onkV0iC58IQYNMq2hpO0-YX6n2A2HT8n3OCqm2C6bH0EocHYLWjBQJC9cTDQ1jSWGW7v_TkGTeN2x12uxTabPx3MBWIAp6_c831rl0hC1If668jiA/s640/2015-06-05+17.15.09.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJTgLLVSEeaqvfCYVJrNK5e0XUAQjsZekaQ5Nfe7ecWtG4yFi2bbdHyHc7AxzSTDPmfR_c9xvYsAxKpT-gZMTnAMDaQMibAP0WWf-3YcAgiauNzU6Sed_JD_VHkdYRkslZPm51V2OUezM/s1600/2015-06-05+20.53.06.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJTgLLVSEeaqvfCYVJrNK5e0XUAQjsZekaQ5Nfe7ecWtG4yFi2bbdHyHc7AxzSTDPmfR_c9xvYsAxKpT-gZMTnAMDaQMibAP0WWf-3YcAgiauNzU6Sed_JD_VHkdYRkslZPm51V2OUezM/s640/2015-06-05+20.53.06.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKI6pxM8gN9k1DWIn1qHpgYSgIahPPBrzc5gqUAj6eU7j_yyQccsrbDckYbfFnKLZlvFGmb_xoQhVAUk-JMAxt_lkhhqjbFwN0x-Xg3ve26YN4U7rUs9dJJBOlH2OgVo7943aA701Cz1Y/s1600/2015-06-05+21.04.46-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="480" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjKI6pxM8gN9k1DWIn1qHpgYSgIahPPBrzc5gqUAj6eU7j_yyQccsrbDckYbfFnKLZlvFGmb_xoQhVAUk-JMAxt_lkhhqjbFwN0x-Xg3ve26YN4U7rUs9dJJBOlH2OgVo7943aA701Cz1Y/s640/2015-06-05+21.04.46-1.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyOUrZ5Uf2PiZL9FTAdlGfHz_f2LHFGHOUFiKcBTaauxQHlElC2hG4EaDHyy5WPHzuuREoUanaHDbxqjNhTZukZi7-gb_DFe1gDMBE0OLR-ykHrU1Ym7jj3CNBsexS5lpJQdz_3yAvgx4/s1600/2015-06-10+13.16.43.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="476" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyOUrZ5Uf2PiZL9FTAdlGfHz_f2LHFGHOUFiKcBTaauxQHlElC2hG4EaDHyy5WPHzuuREoUanaHDbxqjNhTZukZi7-gb_DFe1gDMBE0OLR-ykHrU1Ym7jj3CNBsexS5lpJQdz_3yAvgx4/s640/2015-06-10+13.16.43.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-34727371525481551902015-03-19T08:24:00.000-07:002015-03-19T08:24:33.619-07:00Becoming Great<div class="MsoNormal">
<i>... But whoever wishes to become
great among you shall be your servant, and whoever wishes to be first among you
shall be your slave; just as the Son of Man did not come to be served, but to
serve, and to give His life a ransom for many.</i> -Matthew 20:26-28</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihAopVg4Sy_o_4NO6YhzjLTd_Zx-ROK84mP99F6W3IaRhbm_ctpE3lurnhxNAeFXvr-WFOEMJe2RaTAjSjdycszgSW1_YWq1uiHyptEXy2x5YUJubEBVlUB2YZBCPb0ePFXxs7jd-dx9s/s1600/2015-03-06+12.13.25-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEihAopVg4Sy_o_4NO6YhzjLTd_Zx-ROK84mP99F6W3IaRhbm_ctpE3lurnhxNAeFXvr-WFOEMJe2RaTAjSjdycszgSW1_YWq1uiHyptEXy2x5YUJubEBVlUB2YZBCPb0ePFXxs7jd-dx9s/s1600/2015-03-06+12.13.25-1.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvqjb1t2OQbVzQi2YJ_lRg5CvIC5l0aqMoN5Hjg7oAWRfl6HT63h7h0lH0eBJr0wgILH-Kjso4OaMLrHfToLNzSckkXCye7S7Dv3YouxxgD8fSVhs_lsVxK7mpOXgaE42ZGEsyrYgJaEY/s1600/2015-03-04+17.11.29-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvqjb1t2OQbVzQi2YJ_lRg5CvIC5l0aqMoN5Hjg7oAWRfl6HT63h7h0lH0eBJr0wgILH-Kjso4OaMLrHfToLNzSckkXCye7S7Dv3YouxxgD8fSVhs_lsVxK7mpOXgaE42ZGEsyrYgJaEY/s1600/2015-03-04+17.11.29-1.jpg" height="640" width="512" /></a></div>
<br />
What a privilege we have, to live this life as a servant, bearing and birthing tiny creatures who don't offer us the choice, to serve or not to serve. Selflessness is demanded, required, unceasing.<br />
<br />
I'm learning a little more every day what it is to give continually. To give my ears, my heart, my body. Not just to those tiny creatures, but even after a frustrating afternoon still give to my husband when he comes home, and to the people I interact with as I go about my day.<br />
<br />
Learning it's not a competition or a scale we have to balance, who gave more, who's felt more unloved or devalued. Our greatest commandment is to love, and love usually looks more like serving than it does conquering.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUIEfX_KFfL3-cvQpG-W312zhnuxTGoxr6SB2iAZ_3JTV1iPt2uh9PF9sQpFpC24T93i6jVlWjwQmzwGgr8v2IP0HLA31SkIWNxtmhTl69orZLVS8c17c5aFWaWPHwGKXBBWRRs47EKiQ/s1600/2015-03-06+17.10.16-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgUIEfX_KFfL3-cvQpG-W312zhnuxTGoxr6SB2iAZ_3JTV1iPt2uh9PF9sQpFpC24T93i6jVlWjwQmzwGgr8v2IP0HLA31SkIWNxtmhTl69orZLVS8c17c5aFWaWPHwGKXBBWRRs47EKiQ/s1600/2015-03-06+17.10.16-1.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></div>
<br />
It takes a very special pair of rose colored glasses to see this life of serving as a privilege, to believe that we are becoming great with all our giving. Those glasses are rose colored and thorn covered.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
This serving-life draws blood, asks for the very sustenance of our life. It can leave us feeling more at risk to bacteria and disease than feeling great or strong.<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbXe2BqIM0QGw-t4qZ_WKp1byq-ITeObKAED1CJg4wXT2RSPAC3gwJI3SmAbdzx7J9FE8k2X4pMbq5rSrLR1iM4DZOVbRcr_yGEquhVkyCQva2nKGjpJWs-85MdxidLabS7WnNau6Ld4o/s1600/2015-03-18+11.20.50-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjbXe2BqIM0QGw-t4qZ_WKp1byq-ITeObKAED1CJg4wXT2RSPAC3gwJI3SmAbdzx7J9FE8k2X4pMbq5rSrLR1iM4DZOVbRcr_yGEquhVkyCQva2nKGjpJWs-85MdxidLabS7WnNau6Ld4o/s1600/2015-03-18+11.20.50-1.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Maybe my theology has been rattled by all the crying, but I've been thinking Jesus might not have come to teach lessons or gain a following, but to serve. The miracles, demonstrations of power, raising Himself from the dead- maybe it was all serving. If so, shouldn't that be our greatest honor, the highest goal?</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
But we're humans, and giving without always getting is hard and uncomfortable. How could changing diapers and bounce-walking earn us anything but a sore back? </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheVG_kaNAFfD9Yg8hBSOW2LfSFTb3qHCJb-0VlYkkzxsa3Lyb5MY5B7LxxW_gkSmXDojtMGjNMu0tOnOE_S3Hl_wV8a52yc-OxVz9iaHZuu7TySCyNNOmp8vOTeEYJDfvuWbO-afGxC3M/s1600/2015-02-23+18.54.17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEheVG_kaNAFfD9Yg8hBSOW2LfSFTb3qHCJb-0VlYkkzxsa3Lyb5MY5B7LxxW_gkSmXDojtMGjNMu0tOnOE_S3Hl_wV8a52yc-OxVz9iaHZuu7TySCyNNOmp8vOTeEYJDfvuWbO-afGxC3M/s1600/2015-02-23+18.54.17.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
Days are long and makeup smears, hair gets frazzled and we all shed at least a few tears. Clothes get spit-up and snot wiped on, but I'm becoming great. Magazines and Instagram celebrities mostly document the clean white blankets and adorable outfits, but even those moms are becoming great. The ones with potty-trained tots, sleeping-through-the-night babies, and tantrum-less days. We all get our opportunities to serve, to give without getting. And it's a privilege. We are becoming great.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHUdmBkEvz8UqQxWhP5ZXeroA5CfHabB077Rzk76uictFIPNHwBLLKjzDYbu3S-MPjjI8vfkTlXugUMhkMQX1rXy4Sroc4JCq6Sd-J2kg4MXbqDFNix4-wZ_ofqor-OyNXQYYjp7nsA4/s1600/2015-03-17+16.42.45-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiTHUdmBkEvz8UqQxWhP5ZXeroA5CfHabB077Rzk76uictFIPNHwBLLKjzDYbu3S-MPjjI8vfkTlXugUMhkMQX1rXy4Sroc4JCq6Sd-J2kg4MXbqDFNix4-wZ_ofqor-OyNXQYYjp7nsA4/s1600/2015-03-17+16.42.45-1.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbbMDEYOvmEi_-_1cC0wTVD5o0FR97yS_hsgzML_mhZd4i1qzVnq3ZAH20BC-3eC_-4EIjg4J7fmL40AeoAtnGzE2e3UiQEB2BMq41Xrca7B8qZ0lt0TCQM3nSwvgY5VLPKjHJBSZEKrg/s1600/2015-03-17+16.40.26-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgbbMDEYOvmEi_-_1cC0wTVD5o0FR97yS_hsgzML_mhZd4i1qzVnq3ZAH20BC-3eC_-4EIjg4J7fmL40AeoAtnGzE2e3UiQEB2BMq41Xrca7B8qZ0lt0TCQM3nSwvgY5VLPKjHJBSZEKrg/s1600/2015-03-17+16.40.26-1.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-7427136981488054532015-02-02T14:19:00.000-08:002015-03-19T08:35:06.608-07:00Family of Four<span style="font-family: inherit;">We're three weeks into this whole family-of-four thing, and I've survived two whole weeks with Max back at work. I'm a mess of thankfulness for the family and friends who have brought dinners, diapers, coffee, clothes, watched Hanley, changed diapers, and just hung out- bringing a feeling of normalcy in the midst of exhaustion. That's my coping mechanism with weariness, don't give in, just keep trekking through that rough first month.</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In a way it seems like we arrived here in a flash, yet have been rocking and burping for months. But we are so thankful to have Eliza Louise here with us.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
---</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">After a week of intermittent but strong contractions, I was dilated to a three and feeling ready to meet our little girl. It was one day before the due date and I had the doctor strip my membranes (read up on that if you dare, I think it sounds worse than it is, but I'm also terrified of all things medical), after which I went back to work to see what else of the crazy end-of-year mess I could get done. A January baby when you work in payroll at an accounting office is less than ideal, just ask my co-workers how they feel about the last three weeks.</span></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiFBKnr1C9fb4j0oJAfMR4BQAaFZ2nximce6Kq6mFO7s0JDLUHwib7PWOg8cG3tiaoTzozJMzG6oLGs7TSPnWTepz5mJImbZC73V0Ls1TEobVHifm_SF37L4eYVPozF7yeZPqXbHwLiuI/s1600/2015-01-08+13.13.01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhiFBKnr1C9fb4j0oJAfMR4BQAaFZ2nximce6Kq6mFO7s0JDLUHwib7PWOg8cG3tiaoTzozJMzG6oLGs7TSPnWTepz5mJImbZC73V0Ls1TEobVHifm_SF37L4eYVPozF7yeZPqXbHwLiuI/s1600/2015-01-08+13.13.01.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
</div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">By 7pm that night contractions were five minutes apart and I was wondering if this was the real deal. By 9pm they were more intense and I was going to attempt some sleep since I figured I had a long labor ahead of me. By 10pm I realized no sleep was happening, trying to relax and keep breathing through contractions was taking all my focus.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">For two hours I tried to distract myself walking around the house, eating, watching old 30 Rock episodes (honestly, my favorite part of the labor). By midnight the contractions were three minutes apart so we figured it was a good time to head up to the hospital (Hanley was sound asleep, the sitter sleeping downstairs with the baby monitor). </span></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7f7JuxTY5izwo4Vi6boMzN6jMSI117CItkSt4fzXWtkXWYJeQx9kt5X1BVRCWrfciG9amKL0U6K0fv9tyyeVkKTyJ-dke9q27R-UvAB4ixNPy1KS14vEcDXOURKF2j29BIuN8OLAEoCM/s1600/2015-01-08+13.14.30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj7f7JuxTY5izwo4Vi6boMzN6jMSI117CItkSt4fzXWtkXWYJeQx9kt5X1BVRCWrfciG9amKL0U6K0fv9tyyeVkKTyJ-dke9q27R-UvAB4ixNPy1KS14vEcDXOURKF2j29BIuN8OLAEoCM/s1600/2015-01-08+13.14.30.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When we arrived at the hospital my body was shaking uncontrollably and the nurse had the nerve to tell me I might not be in real labor, just my body freaking out after the membrane stripping. Between that and then being told that I had only dilated to a four after a few intense hours of labor, I almost died.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In my labor with Hanley getting from four centimeters dilation to holding the baby in my arms was twelve hours. I did it without an epidural, but I couldn't imagine twelve hours of these contractions. The nurse left the room and I told Max the whole natural childbirth thing probably wasn't going to happen. He prayed, the nurse came back in and started asking questions about my level of pain (dumbest question ever, but I forgive them), and we just kept going.</span></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglOAQNHkluOfm69-VE3yJHAI7CJdz3jC9k5ZnSloNF97ydmBpmQtU-VmM7Xvenpq4F-4Lhvo3Av7euQ-VYiVl5ArlybbjF4jbzzDKaBAMskXP5NV8zR809jGtbEo2Ti554p_fkc_POVpM/s1600/2015-01-08+05.12.16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEglOAQNHkluOfm69-VE3yJHAI7CJdz3jC9k5ZnSloNF97ydmBpmQtU-VmM7Xvenpq4F-4Lhvo3Av7euQ-VYiVl5ArlybbjF4jbzzDKaBAMskXP5NV8zR809jGtbEo2Ti554p_fkc_POVpM/s1600/2015-01-08+05.12.16.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></a></span></div>
<div style="font-size: 16px; min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Two hours passed painfully with some throwing up and me telling Max I didn't want to do this anymore (or ever again), but smart man that he is, he just held my hand and told me I was doing great. I was too focused on the labor and answering questions about my family's medical history (another dumb question in the midst of hard labor) to think much more on the epidural. By 2:30am (two hours after being checked into the hospital) the nurse asked if she could check and see how much more I had dilated. Apparently the intensity of the contractions (and pain) had done their work, and I was at nine and a half. Obviously the epidural wasn't happening, which was okay with me.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I can't express how relieved I was to know that we didn't have much longer, but then terrified that I was soon to be pushing.</span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="min-height: 19px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">By 3am I was fully dilated and the nurses had everything ready for delivery. With some very helpful coaching on when and how much to push, Eliza was born at 3:26am, healthy and beautiful.</span></div>
</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL-k-89SgERnEat8BTrrsO2De6wTF_vvanQNqEjh0eDkeNM-Yw4fFFMuDEtSRASlURmLN2Wdd3dLzKRX_HzBsrhobhZD_pvf-SJQOHh97c60ZMioh2aleQwBckgmKzDJ6Stk0HsIl8NLY/s1600/2015-01-08+04.06.57.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjL-k-89SgERnEat8BTrrsO2De6wTF_vvanQNqEjh0eDkeNM-Yw4fFFMuDEtSRASlURmLN2Wdd3dLzKRX_HzBsrhobhZD_pvf-SJQOHh97c60ZMioh2aleQwBckgmKzDJ6Stk0HsIl8NLY/s1600/2015-01-08+04.06.57.jpg" height="640" width="636" /></a></div>
</div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe8CXA-6rfK7OT-TNVyqgnXIchUSIIfsNmtqs_wanYdUi7Gefs0JQRz6-2P4f08RMsf_pBWD0YS22wFrzlDJZPCsAxOEzCcWSpJCwW5SkhPjFYHL77MqPOMMjFszxGRGLpjmRgY4hG8kY/s1600/2015-01-08+18.18.16.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhe8CXA-6rfK7OT-TNVyqgnXIchUSIIfsNmtqs_wanYdUi7Gefs0JQRz6-2P4f08RMsf_pBWD0YS22wFrzlDJZPCsAxOEzCcWSpJCwW5SkhPjFYHL77MqPOMMjFszxGRGLpjmRgY4hG8kY/s1600/2015-01-08+18.18.16.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
And here we are, a family of four.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
It still feels pretty unreal.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
I don't think I've been anywhere on time with both girls. In two years I forgot how much time it takes to feed, burp, and change a little one. Especially when their cuteness is so distracting. We were almost on time to meet my sister and her husband for donuts. But that's because we didn't take showers or get ready much. And it was for donuts.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjOin0ANVWnF2fKl7OlXPMXhI-LrzKaMy_PYKjva2a5mf8Q-cbmTYpt8rSRvMwW4QoKxYYlvTyxlMqfTXAcazdsuesQ54oIoRhmolfuXYDe74PJlGWMVR7wHXO_6nu1rH4Hj6i3xm7HfE/s1600/2015-01-08+15.06.55.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjOin0ANVWnF2fKl7OlXPMXhI-LrzKaMy_PYKjva2a5mf8Q-cbmTYpt8rSRvMwW4QoKxYYlvTyxlMqfTXAcazdsuesQ54oIoRhmolfuXYDe74PJlGWMVR7wHXO_6nu1rH4Hj6i3xm7HfE/s1600/2015-01-08+15.06.55.jpg" height="640" width="636" /></a></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
Life with a newborn and a two year-old is tiring and overwhelming, and also overwhelmingly beautiful.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
There are some things that have come so much easier, like nursing (HALLELUJAH!), and her diapers don't seem gross at all in comparison to the two year-old's.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
But each baby has their own uniqueness and I keep wondering, is this what Hanley did? Is this normal? How do I treat this diaper rash? Who knew there were so many kinds of diaper rashes a baby could get, and SO many ways to treat them.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS95XzGNm-jmYa0enN9_S_HGc73QV3eKQIuNb3ES_Uw3_L03BhZLjqoiMBfcX_q0UrTLf452WsxBpxrCU462Fu9UvYE4KV1un8_l7VIk1GBt5qrUupBk-l78oFFIg8l3nCQTy0Nd2URwk/s1600/2015-01-20+14.10.14.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhS95XzGNm-jmYa0enN9_S_HGc73QV3eKQIuNb3ES_Uw3_L03BhZLjqoiMBfcX_q0UrTLf452WsxBpxrCU462Fu9UvYE4KV1un8_l7VIk1GBt5qrUupBk-l78oFFIg8l3nCQTy0Nd2URwk/s1600/2015-01-20+14.10.14.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKkRouCNMd1COlnXvvazQoOQ1qbPx1n_xncY6yVwIjDrKJly9RrfrPzbo465mUd9njh7VrjzyleccRA9DFz3DUyeIBeMWITVFE442FkLP7_XhKkd_FreKOrihUD1hyphenhyphenqmlwxQNxToKpFlo/s1600/2015-01-19+09.33.18.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKkRouCNMd1COlnXvvazQoOQ1qbPx1n_xncY6yVwIjDrKJly9RrfrPzbo465mUd9njh7VrjzyleccRA9DFz3DUyeIBeMWITVFE442FkLP7_XhKkd_FreKOrihUD1hyphenhyphenqmlwxQNxToKpFlo/s1600/2015-01-19+09.33.18.jpg" height="640" width="480" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5378NmHxsEfCENl95PPvpLmR0E4tNnpZwEa3tQOFWwIbftsS20K_d6YCSfOP2td0Pt2gaA8i89Uk18JKHTWqrYdrA8oFWDtCVgOHtfcU6vIVMnZiFp2045IeXU0B45X_m3Rf4TTD9830/s1600/2015-01-20+14.24.01.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj5378NmHxsEfCENl95PPvpLmR0E4tNnpZwEa3tQOFWwIbftsS20K_d6YCSfOP2td0Pt2gaA8i89Uk18JKHTWqrYdrA8oFWDtCVgOHtfcU6vIVMnZiFp2045IeXU0B45X_m3Rf4TTD9830/s1600/2015-01-20+14.24.01.jpg" height="640" width="640" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Hanley is so sweet with her little sister, although she's still mixed up and calls Eliza her big sister. She talks to her in the highest pitched voice, brings her toys, asks why she's crying, and seems to get the idea that she can't eat the same food as her. Last week Hanley told Eliza, "we're going to be friends". I'm pretty sure she learned it from a show, but still that's darn cute.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTpepFVlWWgIN6AkNPoiZ6NqBdQtBbt3LKkqlmzd-ywUGqIohhbL97XJdt9eeng8vwFAEarD0VY8shuyiCyq6t_3N5lkHPaIUL7WN2n8mYWLcBZC4INliJxMXm4jyzuNrTKUqg2EkmMyw/s1600/2015-01-20+09.22.32.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTpepFVlWWgIN6AkNPoiZ6NqBdQtBbt3LKkqlmzd-ywUGqIohhbL97XJdt9eeng8vwFAEarD0VY8shuyiCyq6t_3N5lkHPaIUL7WN2n8mYWLcBZC4INliJxMXm4jyzuNrTKUqg2EkmMyw/s1600/2015-01-20+09.22.32.jpg" height="512" width="640" /></a></span></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Of course we are all learning the transition of spreading out our time, energy, and bodies a little further than before. And leaning more on God's faithfulness to strengthen and to be our faithful supplier of peace, wisdom, and patience.</span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit; margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqgnCI3YwZEa9VW49b-N_0otXG0TTvWT8VVfqL8sIxVprGHxRmXH1ScNVi0in36LINBqMWZKJsYkkfkYD8SfaIPw_EatamE-LcQ-94h5fHP63BVkpHXxOueG8m7NP2J7RwGq6YXp78Tvg/s1600/2015-01-20+15.29.52.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqgnCI3YwZEa9VW49b-N_0otXG0TTvWT8VVfqL8sIxVprGHxRmXH1ScNVi0in36LINBqMWZKJsYkkfkYD8SfaIPw_EatamE-LcQ-94h5fHP63BVkpHXxOueG8m7NP2J7RwGq6YXp78Tvg/s1600/2015-01-20+15.29.52.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></span></div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-77270371364235107222014-10-14T21:01:00.000-07:002014-10-14T21:01:00.783-07:00Five Minute Free Write<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1FePMWT5EGlynk46hXwnpZlGYcpuKq56YWVRv7vGFA-5Vpzc7WaJp-SO6-fOlZPtxBMeLQcxkpahB0T-Vbntq_CGSqrofyjbJMibEt99otdQYuFWBPF18lCpsFS0bZlOtT2JEFDw8auQ/s1600/31days.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1FePMWT5EGlynk46hXwnpZlGYcpuKq56YWVRv7vGFA-5Vpzc7WaJp-SO6-fOlZPtxBMeLQcxkpahB0T-Vbntq_CGSqrofyjbJMibEt99otdQYuFWBPF18lCpsFS0bZlOtT2JEFDw8auQ/s1600/31days.png" height="180" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
Oh good golly gee,<br />
<div>
What a thing to be</div>
<div>
Stuck on a phrase</div>
<div>
For infinite days</div>
<div>
Learning that living</div>
<div>
Isn't always giving</div>
<div>
But taking the breath</div>
<div>
That will lead to the rest</div>
<div>
From the stopping and going</div>
<div>
All the hitting and throwing</div>
<div>
Must.</div>
<div>
End.</div>
<div>
Here.<br />
<br />
---<br />
<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">For the month of October I am participating in the 31 Days Writing Challenge put on by the lovely Myquillyn Smith of The Nesting Place. Read about it and find other bloggers </span><a href="http://write31days.com/" style="text-align: center;">here</a><span style="text-align: center;">.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-69894871441266629642014-10-14T20:43:00.001-07:002014-10-14T20:43:53.861-07:00Steadfast<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKTUglmWEJ1zp6ZkkQowPNT40Qi37-jNZbvFhqw-NynI4uVB8LRhU74MqueV5cBwCN7paKyUhTaNnWccZOM1kRdgTs8ZQtdBB3MI6OTJe4ZZVLQgOxa8vsURi54UsA7K0LVyLMc0qKSUs/s1600/31days.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKTUglmWEJ1zp6ZkkQowPNT40Qi37-jNZbvFhqw-NynI4uVB8LRhU74MqueV5cBwCN7paKyUhTaNnWccZOM1kRdgTs8ZQtdBB3MI6OTJe4ZZVLQgOxa8vsURi54UsA7K0LVyLMc0qKSUs/s1600/31days.png" height="181" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<i>The steadfast love of the Lord never ceases; his mercies never come to an end; they are new every morning; great is your faithfulness.</i><br />
<div>
<i><br /></i></div>
<div>
His patience I can't get over, tenderness I can't comprehend. All my rough edges smoothed over by His endless grace. He can't stop, won't stop, chasing and loving my soul.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi279WKFGkCXxw1qtbCU8dtEiXsxqKMyh-BFoWyz33VXI7z2LNfydi0kdHRT6EYTJ51N3cB69YxdySV1QeakyIIhPJECVQzm7d1JvqdHn_w8qM3BPmDGbyLHD4qrhINOi2fWYoyTDuycJs/s640/blogger-image-551319188.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi279WKFGkCXxw1qtbCU8dtEiXsxqKMyh-BFoWyz33VXI7z2LNfydi0kdHRT6EYTJ51N3cB69YxdySV1QeakyIIhPJECVQzm7d1JvqdHn_w8qM3BPmDGbyLHD4qrhINOi2fWYoyTDuycJs/s640/blogger-image-551319188.jpg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div>
<div>
<span id="goog_499040761"></span><span id="goog_499040762"></span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;">For the month of October I am participating in the 31 Days Writing Challenge put on by the lovely Myquillyn Smith of The Nesting Place. Read about it and find other bloggers </span><a href="http://write31days.com/" style="text-align: center;">here</a><span style="text-align: center;">.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-75014487404630702742014-10-12T21:06:00.001-07:002014-10-14T20:50:15.572-07:00Enough<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKTUglmWEJ1zp6ZkkQowPNT40Qi37-jNZbvFhqw-NynI4uVB8LRhU74MqueV5cBwCN7paKyUhTaNnWccZOM1kRdgTs8ZQtdBB3MI6OTJe4ZZVLQgOxa8vsURi54UsA7K0LVyLMc0qKSUs/s1600/31days.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKTUglmWEJ1zp6ZkkQowPNT40Qi37-jNZbvFhqw-NynI4uVB8LRhU74MqueV5cBwCN7paKyUhTaNnWccZOM1kRdgTs8ZQtdBB3MI6OTJe4ZZVLQgOxa8vsURi54UsA7K0LVyLMc0qKSUs/s1600/31days.png" height="181" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
I will never have enough, be enough, give enough, know enough. Enough is ever-expanding, that infinity we always talked about as kids. It daunts us with its un-definabilty and vastness, calls us to venture on eternally. Wearisome journey to take, terrifying destination to arrive at- to come to enough and settle there for the rest of our days.<br />
<br />
---<br />
<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">For the month of October I am participating in the 31 Days Writing Challenge put on by the lovely Myquillyn Smith of The Nesting Place. Read about it and find other bloggers </span><a href="http://write31days.com/" style="text-align: center;">here</a><span style="text-align: center;">.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-51641117744398420802014-10-11T14:32:00.002-07:002014-10-14T21:05:45.835-07:00Day Eleven<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemQsNxoLQfRlyCD4JGM_yRDO2eQvw0zH7kUGguJOgMnj5IVs-YX4dqGZAyWNBzC4kH1rMA5E06pH7HL9NOmVBCn1DiCpxAbNbXEWgMQCBhVc2YuEcJQEhSt7QSWuGD58b-cuXJgQaHKs/s1600/31days.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemQsNxoLQfRlyCD4JGM_yRDO2eQvw0zH7kUGguJOgMnj5IVs-YX4dqGZAyWNBzC4kH1rMA5E06pH7HL9NOmVBCn1DiCpxAbNbXEWgMQCBhVc2YuEcJQEhSt7QSWuGD58b-cuXJgQaHKs/s1600/31days.png" height="181" width="200" /></a><br />
<br />
Formalizing words with actions<br />
Laying down distractions<br />
Eyes must keep from straying<br />
True message of love relaying<br />
<br />
These moments so tender<br />
Our Creator did render<br />
To hold close as a prize<br />
If only we'll realize<br />
<br />
Tomorrow will come<br />
Slower for others than some<br />
For us, we can convey<br />
Messages of thankfulness for today<br />
<br />
---<br />
<br />
I have a difficult relationship with around-the-world-awareness. I love being brought out of my bubble, seeing how others live, and thus challenged to live a life more full. Yet it's easy to get carried away, losing the fine line between a safe learning experience, and having fear, guilt, and depression.<br />
<br />
As with all difficult things these days I'm choosing thankfulness, peace, and to be stirred to love deeper and more true.<br />
<br />
---<br />
<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">For the month of October I am participating in the 31 Days Writing Challenge put on by the lovely Myquillyn Smith of The Nesting Place. Read about it and find other bloggers </span><a href="http://write31days.com/" style="text-align: center;">here</a><span style="text-align: center;">.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-82082346875138024502014-10-10T12:29:00.000-07:002014-10-11T09:19:50.903-07:00Mommy-ed Out<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemQsNxoLQfRlyCD4JGM_yRDO2eQvw0zH7kUGguJOgMnj5IVs-YX4dqGZAyWNBzC4kH1rMA5E06pH7HL9NOmVBCn1DiCpxAbNbXEWgMQCBhVc2YuEcJQEhSt7QSWuGD58b-cuXJgQaHKs/s1600/31days.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemQsNxoLQfRlyCD4JGM_yRDO2eQvw0zH7kUGguJOgMnj5IVs-YX4dqGZAyWNBzC4kH1rMA5E06pH7HL9NOmVBCn1DiCpxAbNbXEWgMQCBhVc2YuEcJQEhSt7QSWuGD58b-cuXJgQaHKs/s1600/31days.png" height="181" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Sometimes the "mom" hours of my life tick by so slowly I feel like I'm not cut out for this job. I'm one child into this mommy business and my patience doesn't seem to be expanding, but evaporating more quickly. The little hands grabbing to be pulled up into my arms are sweet, but so exhausting. It's a high intensity workout, trying to focus on deep breaths so I don't notice the pain of my own selfishness being worked and worn thin.<br />
<div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhohdrYuxPTggYBdtwn4ZwAqlipnkD539MSwIM2i_w6ye5TcvKD7ecChJdmefD8sKArE8yqA7fXOJQBGRLVxPN2IJWGlvDU7Yxo2htq_Ri5p1_4YKDAtLHFibCvhDUozVMlUFkm9enyLSw/s1600/2014-10-11+08.52.17.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhohdrYuxPTggYBdtwn4ZwAqlipnkD539MSwIM2i_w6ye5TcvKD7ecChJdmefD8sKArE8yqA7fXOJQBGRLVxPN2IJWGlvDU7Yxo2htq_Ri5p1_4YKDAtLHFibCvhDUozVMlUFkm9enyLSw/s1600/2014-10-11+08.52.17.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Grace grace. That's what they tell you when your tired body is sagging and your spirit feels crushed beneath the weight of one child growing inside and another child's will growing outside. You can do it. Sure, but when I find myself on the other side will I still have my sanity and dreams alive? Again, I'm only one child into this.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJPLe9lm1A47J2qGz5h-KAuW6ot8_uVo7FHfsI1Itm12Uf5a6gmdyA1SeejPpdjvSN8QPQD5KnAAArHo76-6CskewfNvIduvSuAGZfThyphenhyphenWDgv1uJXMDOdG2jhluuj2BAIm078god0IPsg/s1600/2014-10-11+08.55.43.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgJPLe9lm1A47J2qGz5h-KAuW6ot8_uVo7FHfsI1Itm12Uf5a6gmdyA1SeejPpdjvSN8QPQD5KnAAArHo76-6CskewfNvIduvSuAGZfThyphenhyphenWDgv1uJXMDOdG2jhluuj2BAIm078god0IPsg/s1600/2014-10-11+08.55.43.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Loving is so easy when the other half is giving, but a lot of days it's hard to find their giving and only see their needing. The gifts we do receive more often look like clothes that never fit our bodies right and coffee that got cold. Marker somehow on our arms and heartburn and back pain. Those aren't the gifts you'll find on many wish lists this holiday season.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-v4nPokWm5Z6ugpXJOaaD3Xel5Paqcypo_zgcZUi-HPNvj1_Yhj7G6YRHHMyLpjCfFk7_D8tZ6bxXY2HdSP6vAN92Y0yF1GXvvSBF09SM02oe3sD1a5lJZvLXPm74EWlNearj3BhK2x8/s1600/2014-10-11+08.57.45.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-v4nPokWm5Z6ugpXJOaaD3Xel5Paqcypo_zgcZUi-HPNvj1_Yhj7G6YRHHMyLpjCfFk7_D8tZ6bxXY2HdSP6vAN92Y0yF1GXvvSBF09SM02oe3sD1a5lJZvLXPm74EWlNearj3BhK2x8/s1600/2014-10-11+08.57.45.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
But we can't carry on in an attitude that is fraught with negativity. I'm so thankful for nap times, for a momentary quiet even if it takes some wrestling and crying to get there. Today we both cried. We cried because we don't understand what it is we truly need and how to get there. I'd like a giant piece of chocolate cake, but I think a gentle reminder that there's greater strength available would be a more lasting help. She wants crackers and markers but the crackers keep breaking and the markers keep ending up on her face.<br />
<br /></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrBk_17mRdUS-K31k-1XAJlZfWuplx4YhPZqpWYfeHa5iW8fMe4GYARXLYuelN41Ti6Naq7EOtD2rE1yMNkRE6tYBYgCruhcSfHul_9NG5AZQRL1g3rDZZGDt7CcFZPWEo-OEylvEzNU/s1600/2014-10-11+09.03.20.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCrBk_17mRdUS-K31k-1XAJlZfWuplx4YhPZqpWYfeHa5iW8fMe4GYARXLYuelN41Ti6Naq7EOtD2rE1yMNkRE6tYBYgCruhcSfHul_9NG5AZQRL1g3rDZZGDt7CcFZPWEo-OEylvEzNU/s1600/2014-10-11+09.03.20.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div>
We need a pause. We need to refrain from our worked up emotions and space to see that there is plenty of room for us to find peace.<br />
<br />
---<br />
<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">For the month of October I am participating in the 31 Days Writing Challenge put on by the lovely Myquillyn Smith of The Nesting Place. Read about it and find other bloggers </span><a href="http://write31days.com/" style="text-align: center;">here</a><span style="text-align: center;">.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com9tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-78249297884963517572014-10-10T12:20:00.000-07:002014-10-11T08:45:19.876-07:00A Place of Knowing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemQsNxoLQfRlyCD4JGM_yRDO2eQvw0zH7kUGguJOgMnj5IVs-YX4dqGZAyWNBzC4kH1rMA5E06pH7HL9NOmVBCn1DiCpxAbNbXEWgMQCBhVc2YuEcJQEhSt7QSWuGD58b-cuXJgQaHKs/s1600/31days.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemQsNxoLQfRlyCD4JGM_yRDO2eQvw0zH7kUGguJOgMnj5IVs-YX4dqGZAyWNBzC4kH1rMA5E06pH7HL9NOmVBCn1DiCpxAbNbXEWgMQCBhVc2YuEcJQEhSt7QSWuGD58b-cuXJgQaHKs/s1600/31days.png" height="181" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
As I've finished my first week of "31 Days" I've realized there are places where writing is natural and flows easily, places where I feel known. My first pick would be on a warm beach with a cool breeze. That doesn't happen very often, but luckily I'm inspired by most any cozy place. Lately it's the couch by my front window. We can get some amazing sunset views and there's an assortment of deciduous trees for the sun to make its last glow upon.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
A change of scenery always sparks new inspiration in me. With my random bursts of nesting energy I've been working on a room in our basement where I can relax and write. Somewhere away from the toys and dishes and unswept floors. A place for me to be known, not distracted by knowing. It's nothing pretty yet, but I've been gathering various sentimental objects to create an atompmosphere of cozy.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
That's another thing I've realized as I finish up Day Nine- I'm greatly inspired by sentimentality. Looking through old pictures and writings sparks a warmth of love in my heart that almost always leads to creating.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
Right now this desk in the centerpiece of my sentimental cozy. It was at my grandparents ever since I remember and it was always a favorite of mine. I was recently able to "inherit" it and it still holds all the magic I remember.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3cb2YMS06Vl_ahjf65bRynBqREGHYTQEZHcUzbpoBrtNkc6OO2Yt9mOpC8IAEqfe895Zy7b5XHRJoN_65Yvq6hM9HM9YZ9pMF81HASOXRRugnze7iYb69CgMXEzrUqKxwkDdQEQjwCb4/s640/blogger-image-1233986099.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi3cb2YMS06Vl_ahjf65bRynBqREGHYTQEZHcUzbpoBrtNkc6OO2Yt9mOpC8IAEqfe895Zy7b5XHRJoN_65Yvq6hM9HM9YZ9pMF81HASOXRRugnze7iYb69CgMXEzrUqKxwkDdQEQjwCb4/s400/blogger-image-1233986099.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both;">
<span style="text-align: center;">For the month of October I am participating in the 31 Days Writing Challenge put on by the lovely Myquillyn Smith of The Nesting Place. Read about it and find other bloggers </span><a href="http://write31days.com/" style="text-align: center;">here</a><span style="text-align: center;">.</span></div>
</div>
</div>
</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-39326532554111011712014-10-08T20:06:00.000-07:002014-10-08T20:06:45.854-07:0027 Weeks Along, 3 Months to Go<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemQsNxoLQfRlyCD4JGM_yRDO2eQvw0zH7kUGguJOgMnj5IVs-YX4dqGZAyWNBzC4kH1rMA5E06pH7HL9NOmVBCn1DiCpxAbNbXEWgMQCBhVc2YuEcJQEhSt7QSWuGD58b-cuXJgQaHKs/s1600/31days.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemQsNxoLQfRlyCD4JGM_yRDO2eQvw0zH7kUGguJOgMnj5IVs-YX4dqGZAyWNBzC4kH1rMA5E06pH7HL9NOmVBCn1DiCpxAbNbXEWgMQCBhVc2YuEcJQEhSt7QSWuGD58b-cuXJgQaHKs/s1600/31days.png" height="181" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
My stomach is queasy and my head feels like a 10lb bag of flour. It's truly amazing how the body transforms to bear another life, but today I want to curl up and sleep away all the uncomfortable growings of a miracle.<br />
<br />
Today I started the last week of my second trimester and I'm exactly three months from my due date. For the sake of my mental well-being I think of my due date as a rough estimate, preparing to be late so if I'm early or on my due date it's a pleasant surprise. Although my mind knows the most tiring weeks are still coming, my body already wants to give up.<br />
<br />
Some days are filled with excitement for the things in store, and others all I can see are the obstacles that need to be overcome. Basic human nature.<br />
<br />
So can I rest in weariness today- leave preparing, working, believing for another day? Bake cookies and pretend the world outside my door is warm and gentle. This world surely doesn't rest from creating messes, but my eyes will close now and my heart will still.<br />
<br />
---<br />
<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">For the month of October I am participating in the 31 Days Writing Challenge put on by the lovely Myquillyn Smith of The Nesting Place. Read about it and find other bloggers </span><a href="http://write31days.com/" style="text-align: center;">here</a><span style="text-align: center;">.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-6730812826308698952014-10-07T22:03:00.000-07:002014-10-07T22:03:11.167-07:00Day Seven<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemQsNxoLQfRlyCD4JGM_yRDO2eQvw0zH7kUGguJOgMnj5IVs-YX4dqGZAyWNBzC4kH1rMA5E06pH7HL9NOmVBCn1DiCpxAbNbXEWgMQCBhVc2YuEcJQEhSt7QSWuGD58b-cuXJgQaHKs/s1600/31days.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemQsNxoLQfRlyCD4JGM_yRDO2eQvw0zH7kUGguJOgMnj5IVs-YX4dqGZAyWNBzC4kH1rMA5E06pH7HL9NOmVBCn1DiCpxAbNbXEWgMQCBhVc2YuEcJQEhSt7QSWuGD58b-cuXJgQaHKs/s1600/31days.png" height="181" width="200" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: left;">
The light this time of year kills me. From my couch by the corner window of my house I sit and look out, amazed at how perfect those yellowing leaves look against a bright blue sky. It's all so effortless, so humbly glorious. It inspires me to live not toiling or striving, but present. Willing to let the brightness of the Son shine on me, and a crisp breeze of the Spirit blow through my bones. It's that "smiles at the future" attitude I desire. Not begging for change, not holding onto yesterday's season- a heart at peace with the blooming and the dying, the blossoming and the fading.</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><i><span style="line-height: 24px;">She is clothed with strength and dignity, </span><span style="line-height: 24px;">and she laughs without fear of the future.</span></i></span><br />
<div style="text-align: right;">
<i style="font-family: inherit; text-align: center;"><span style="line-height: 24px;"><br /></span></i></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt20elDOCS5UB9tJWo-lT7iTUsFOlUweSv9CqffYZFGz5DMAARx3roN2eYpKpbcoLoRUrqBTS-uXauNyWz87efwVtN5Ox-csWzrEwvbd3-z9v-S47a9AHXuf805JFBVNFTGXm70Hj6lnw/s1600/2014-09-28+15.02.19+HDR-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em; text-align: center;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgt20elDOCS5UB9tJWo-lT7iTUsFOlUweSv9CqffYZFGz5DMAARx3roN2eYpKpbcoLoRUrqBTS-uXauNyWz87efwVtN5Ox-csWzrEwvbd3-z9v-S47a9AHXuf805JFBVNFTGXm70Hj6lnw/s1600/2014-09-28+15.02.19+HDR-1.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="text-align: center;">For the month of October I am participating in the 31 Days Writing Challenge put on by the lovely Myquillyn Smith of The Nesting Place. Read about it and find other bloggers </span><a href="http://write31days.com/" style="text-align: center;">here</a><span style="text-align: center;">.</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-85945028116330053062014-10-06T19:07:00.000-07:002014-10-06T19:09:15.247-07:00-ING<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemQsNxoLQfRlyCD4JGM_yRDO2eQvw0zH7kUGguJOgMnj5IVs-YX4dqGZAyWNBzC4kH1rMA5E06pH7HL9NOmVBCn1DiCpxAbNbXEWgMQCBhVc2YuEcJQEhSt7QSWuGD58b-cuXJgQaHKs/s1600/31days.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemQsNxoLQfRlyCD4JGM_yRDO2eQvw0zH7kUGguJOgMnj5IVs-YX4dqGZAyWNBzC4kH1rMA5E06pH7HL9NOmVBCn1DiCpxAbNbXEWgMQCBhVc2YuEcJQEhSt7QSWuGD58b-cuXJgQaHKs/s1600/31days.png" height="181" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Shepherded to fields of dreaming<br />
Flowers blooming colorful<br />
To the sun extending<br />
Scents of awakening tender<br />
Humble passion for seeing<br />
Tomorrow becoming greater<br />
Ourselves wholly givinig<br />
Breath and life sacrificing<br />
Freshening our days<br />
With steadfast hoping<br />
Un-callused hands holding<br />
Truth making kind<br />
Gracious beauty in waiting<br />
For hearts to be re-beating<br />
<br />
---<br />
<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">For the month of October I am participating in the 31 Days Writing Challenge put on by the lovely Myquillyn Smith of The Nesting Place. Read about it and find other bloggers </span><a href="http://write31days.com/" style="text-align: center;">here</a><span style="text-align: center;">.</span><br />
<div>
<span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-32846209941992394712014-10-05T20:46:00.001-07:002014-10-05T20:46:37.660-07:00Pause<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKTUglmWEJ1zp6ZkkQowPNT40Qi37-jNZbvFhqw-NynI4uVB8LRhU74MqueV5cBwCN7paKyUhTaNnWccZOM1kRdgTs8ZQtdBB3MI6OTJe4ZZVLQgOxa8vsURi54UsA7K0LVyLMc0qKSUs/s1600/31days.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKTUglmWEJ1zp6ZkkQowPNT40Qi37-jNZbvFhqw-NynI4uVB8LRhU74MqueV5cBwCN7paKyUhTaNnWccZOM1kRdgTs8ZQtdBB3MI6OTJe4ZZVLQgOxa8vsURi54UsA7K0LVyLMc0qKSUs/s1600/31days.png" height="181" width="200" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
Garden offers a harvest of weeds<br />
Once inspired projects pile on counters<br />
But today there is sun to soak up<br />
Books to be lost in<br />
Most of all a child to watch blissfully play<br />
Dumping water on patio, lawn, self<br />
For today that is all I need<br />
That is what completes.<br />
<br />
Soul's tendency is to wander<br />
Such a bright, sparkling world attracts<br />
Wires cross this way and that<br />
We wonder where the wonder went<br />
Hidden under hurried days<br />
Tucked behind worried thoughts<br />
Waiting for a heart to be stilled<br />
Pause, breath deep, and enjoy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUomLY2FwT1YKAuh5ZzdoF9qOdPoF165VmupgeZEt79I_UNRjIhlSeCQI6mlutnQghOi46r1nVHf4k5Fmyv4tQq1YA_S9yXhZ6ykahc8eERcNsej9-cUUUKAlKu11ySA1D_lpQ3c_0iCU/s1600/2014-09-28+15.21.36+HDR-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUomLY2FwT1YKAuh5ZzdoF9qOdPoF165VmupgeZEt79I_UNRjIhlSeCQI6mlutnQghOi46r1nVHf4k5Fmyv4tQq1YA_S9yXhZ6ykahc8eERcNsej9-cUUUKAlKu11ySA1D_lpQ3c_0iCU/s1600/2014-09-28+15.21.36+HDR-1.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
Maybe I cheated on this one. I wrote it a while ago and kept coming back to it but it didn't feel ready. Today not being 100% "ready" is okay with me.<br />
<br />
I'm often reminded of this re-prioritizing, as are many moms- really any of us that live busy lives. Re-discovering the wonder and peace in life is what this project is all about so I thought it deserved for me to finally hit the "publish" button.<br />
<br />
Through each post and re-discovery I'm struck by how simple it is. Simple, but not easy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_CPXLKA8s-zlecVh8ePos-C79ML8OacOwF3XS1czpdvl_Pjq3Abfw5eIEqUU6-7islKFJ8fE73jshOaBBu7cW-4YUjjrk8y1D5pyCH37T9Q23oV0H-q7xkWSsivH-70Sxe12Oys5onhU/s1600/2014-09-28+15.34.19-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_CPXLKA8s-zlecVh8ePos-C79ML8OacOwF3XS1czpdvl_Pjq3Abfw5eIEqUU6-7islKFJ8fE73jshOaBBu7cW-4YUjjrk8y1D5pyCH37T9Q23oV0H-q7xkWSsivH-70Sxe12Oys5onhU/s1600/2014-09-28+15.34.19-1.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">For the month of October I am participating in the 31 Days Writing Challenge put on by the lovely Myquillyn Smith of The Nesting Place. Read about it and find other bloggers </span><a href="http://write31days.com/" style="text-align: center;">here</a><span style="text-align: center;">.</span><br />
<span style="text-align: center;"><br /></span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-55504260506030675612014-10-04T18:06:00.000-07:002014-10-04T18:06:06.219-07:00A Moment On a Saturday.<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemQsNxoLQfRlyCD4JGM_yRDO2eQvw0zH7kUGguJOgMnj5IVs-YX4dqGZAyWNBzC4kH1rMA5E06pH7HL9NOmVBCn1DiCpxAbNbXEWgMQCBhVc2YuEcJQEhSt7QSWuGD58b-cuXJgQaHKs/s1600/31days.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgemQsNxoLQfRlyCD4JGM_yRDO2eQvw0zH7kUGguJOgMnj5IVs-YX4dqGZAyWNBzC4kH1rMA5E06pH7HL9NOmVBCn1DiCpxAbNbXEWgMQCBhVc2YuEcJQEhSt7QSWuGD58b-cuXJgQaHKs/s1600/31days.png" height="181" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Whispering wonder in all her wishful ways.<br />
<div>
Dashes of dreaming to dissipate darkness. </div>
<div>
Fearsome feelings forever forward focused.</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
<div>
And I sit here waiting for the timer to buzz.<br />
<br />
---<br />
<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">For those wondering, for the month of October I am participating in the 31 Days Writing Challenge put on by the lovely Myquillyn Smith of The Nesting Place. Read about it and find other bloggers </span><a href="http://write31days.com/" style="text-align: center;">here</a><span style="text-align: center;">.</span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-9752165093523320562014-10-03T16:28:00.000-07:002014-10-03T16:28:03.558-07:00Transplanting Grace<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKTUglmWEJ1zp6ZkkQowPNT40Qi37-jNZbvFhqw-NynI4uVB8LRhU74MqueV5cBwCN7paKyUhTaNnWccZOM1kRdgTs8ZQtdBB3MI6OTJe4ZZVLQgOxa8vsURi54UsA7K0LVyLMc0qKSUs/s1600/31days.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKTUglmWEJ1zp6ZkkQowPNT40Qi37-jNZbvFhqw-NynI4uVB8LRhU74MqueV5cBwCN7paKyUhTaNnWccZOM1kRdgTs8ZQtdBB3MI6OTJe4ZZVLQgOxa8vsURi54UsA7K0LVyLMc0qKSUs/s1600/31days.png" height="181" width="200" /></span></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My husband gave me two low-maintenance house plants for Valentine's Day and in the last 10 months I've slowly added to my collection. I am by no means a gardener and the emphasis is on <i>low</i> maintenance. But I love them. I love the vibrance they bring to the room and I've been surprised to find caring for them is a calm nurturing outlet. I'm also surprised they're all still alive. I recently transplanted one to a bigger pot and I think I did something wrong. It's not dead, but the branches and leaves fall off if I lightly touch them. It got me thinking about where I've been at lately- not dead, not fruitless, just weak and fragile.</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My body is expanding both physically and emotionally as I grow this little life, and there are some new "pots" I'm being planted into. It's left me feeling weak, tired, and generally coming-up-short. Of course there is a natural fragility and weariness that comes with the unstable hormone levels, but I believe God uses the circumstances of our lives to speak to us and to grow us.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggHNZFb6JyjFHGdHk4la6iwjJcVdq8qfkV476-dqIEZB7NrzYxrrC4uSTL2fPk3lZcmrZMb5ljPp_P9ObEwwVdCYMyFcaoim-zoDQEg6ZJHQ8zMcpP28V61hHfFqVhoRe9pzPBJrE81K8/s1600/2014-06-07+15.00.35.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEggHNZFb6JyjFHGdHk4la6iwjJcVdq8qfkV476-dqIEZB7NrzYxrrC4uSTL2fPk3lZcmrZMb5ljPp_P9ObEwwVdCYMyFcaoim-zoDQEg6ZJHQ8zMcpP28V61hHfFqVhoRe9pzPBJrE81K8/s1600/2014-06-07+15.00.35.jpg" height="320" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's too easy to see the branches falling off and think we're missing something, doing something wrong, but today I feel at peace with leaving things behind. I want to embrace the transplanting of life. There are overwhelming unknowns and challenges we face, and even greater ones coming. But I am known by God. My heart, my weaknesses, fears and needs, my dreams and the cloudiness I often feel surrounds them. They might not be met or fulfilled, but they are known, and today that's enough.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #001320; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>So they will be called oaks of righteousness, the planting of the Lord, that He may be glorified.</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #001320; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #001320; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i>---</i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<span style="background-color: white; color: #001320; line-height: 20px; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><i><br /></i></span></span></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
For those wondering, for the month of October I am participating in the 31 Days Writing Challenge put on by the lovely Myquillyn Smith of The Nesting Place. Read about it and find other bloggers <a href="http://write31days.com/">here</a>.</div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-83999596464532272242014-10-02T13:56:00.000-07:002014-10-02T13:56:19.706-07:00Angsty Anxiousness<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4Pxl2p00wRdjdxmILH9ro5LOQcUKam-nGoequSfiVHRB-XRITy0apZAJDh8fPhs5x8zkFcvE5eiHwfk7STKOgg_xpBuNtH5m-aSvPDnhWs0OdVj9VLpvzSHkVLHvFxvgMYDcHwHDnFQ/s1600/31days.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhs4Pxl2p00wRdjdxmILH9ro5LOQcUKam-nGoequSfiVHRB-XRITy0apZAJDh8fPhs5x8zkFcvE5eiHwfk7STKOgg_xpBuNtH5m-aSvPDnhWs0OdVj9VLpvzSHkVLHvFxvgMYDcHwHDnFQ/s1600/31days.png" height="181" width="200" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
Anxiousness always gets the better of me. In part, the responsibility lies with the fact that a little life is growing inside me. There's a natural anticipation and excitement that comes with pregnancy. Something's coming and it will change everything, but there is only so much one can do to prepare for the change. And so anxiousness. It wakes me in the night, with the urge to get up and get somewhere. It challenges me in the day, to remain present and loving. The regular self-centered Carrie wants to yell, "doesn't the world know I have so much to do and to figure out!". And sometimes I literally do yell, but most of the time it's more coy. Death glares, short attention spans, rushing around picking up the random bits of life that have scattered everywhere.<br />
<br />
But then pausing. Not just sitting still, even then my breathing feels quick and my mind runs off a to-do list. Deep. Breathing. Focusing. Thinking on love, on goodness. All that valuable advice that the Lord has given over and over to my striving soul.<br />
<br />
Be anxious for nothing.<br />
A heart at peace gives life to the body.<br />
Be still and know that He is God.<br />
The mind governed by the flesh is death, but the mind governed by the Spirit is life and peace.<br />
<br />
What nice words written by human hands.<br />
<br />
Yet today I challenge myself to not just know those words, but to let them be known- in my heart and in the outworkings of my life. It's a hard, grueling battle that we wage against our minds- convincing a stubborn soul to believe that which is the opposite of our nature.<br />
<br />
But I do have all this anxious energy, and this wonderful world around me to enjoy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitXtVQsbQAQ6FByzr59TlKoNJRvWHpToa28UqFyN5H53-oIxl8ooHYNTYwIhDkO8jB6rOoqLrg326V-udkOtQPNtSZagMHuaLiPm0WtJOcRfV5nHwmq2YOkgzecCSXPvwl0eeau9WMbCU/s1600/2014-09-30+17.04.21-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitXtVQsbQAQ6FByzr59TlKoNJRvWHpToa28UqFyN5H53-oIxl8ooHYNTYwIhDkO8jB6rOoqLrg326V-udkOtQPNtSZagMHuaLiPm0WtJOcRfV5nHwmq2YOkgzecCSXPvwl0eeau9WMbCU/s1600/2014-09-30+17.04.21-1.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
For those wondering, for the month of October I am participating in the 31 Days Writing Challenge put on by the lovely Myquillyn Smith of The Nesting Place. Read about it and find other bloggers <a href="http://write31days.com/">here</a>.</div>
<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-42560352465016295812014-10-01T15:26:00.000-07:002014-10-11T14:32:56.106-07:0031 Days of Writing - 31 Days of Knowing<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1FePMWT5EGlynk46hXwnpZlGYcpuKq56YWVRv7vGFA-5Vpzc7WaJp-SO6-fOlZPtxBMeLQcxkpahB0T-Vbntq_CGSqrofyjbJMibEt99otdQYuFWBPF18lCpsFS0bZlOtT2JEFDw8auQ/s1600/31days.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh1FePMWT5EGlynk46hXwnpZlGYcpuKq56YWVRv7vGFA-5Vpzc7WaJp-SO6-fOlZPtxBMeLQcxkpahB0T-Vbntq_CGSqrofyjbJMibEt99otdQYuFWBPF18lCpsFS0bZlOtT2JEFDw8auQ/s1600/31days.png" height="289" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">There’s a deep divide in my soul between wanting <i>to know</i>, and aching to <i>be known.</i> I don’t need a ten-year life
plan, or a certainty that my curly hair will come back and my body will survive unscathed from childbirth & babies. My mind feels scrambled-overwhelmed, wondering if I’m doing
this parenting thing right, and how to balance spontaneity, budgets, discipline,
and loving. Contentment is a hard place to find, that’s
a no-brainer. But I know where it comes from- in being known. At the base or top of
mountains, it doesn't matter which, if we are known, we are at peace. Five hundred friends, followers, or fans isn't the goal. If there is one who can see (and still love) our soul, everything else quiets and we can <i>be</i>.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">It's an exhausting tension we live in, urged to know and master life, but in it all to honor simplicity and being. I've realized how much it affects my daily life- thought processes, priorities, communication. To be worn thin by it is normal, but not necessary. There's a crazy belief I carry that embracing the two together can push us further than if we only lived with one- </span><i style="font-family: inherit;">Knowing & Being Known.</i><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">---</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Writing has been difficult lately, not because of business or boredom. It's a lack of discipline and value. Accepting that it's okay to say the same thing twice, not always have the perfect perspective, most of all to not <i>know</i> who I am as a writer. So this will be a month of exploring. Some days will be short blurbs, and others cluttered and clumsy. But my hope is that in the wandering I'll find peace with <i>being known, </i>even in the midst of the unknown.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
---<br />
<br />
<span style="text-align: center;">For the month of October I am participating in the 31 Days Writing Challenge put on by the lovely Myquillyn Smith of The Nesting Place. Read about it and find other bloggers </span><a href="http://write31days.com/" style="text-align: center;">here</a><span style="text-align: center;">.</span><br />
<br />
And the rest of my posts-<br />
<br />
Day Two: <a href="http://cjohnt.blogspot.com/2014/10/angsty-anxiousness.html">Angsty Anxiousness</a><br />
Day Three: <a href="http://cjohnt.blogspot.com/2014/10/transplanting-grace.html">Transplanting Grace</a><br />
Day Four: <a href="http://cjohnt.blogspot.com/2014/10/a-moment-on-saturday.html">A Moment On a Saturday</a><br />
Day Five: <a href="http://cjohnt.blogspot.com/2014/10/pause.html">Pause</a><br />
Day Six: <a href="http://cjohnt.blogspot.com/2014/10/ing.html">-ING</a><br />
Day Seven: <a href="http://cjohnt.blogspot.com/2014/10/day-seven.html">Day Seven</a><br />
Day Eight: <a href="http://cjohnt.blogspot.com/2014/10/27-weeks-along-3-months-to-go.html">27 Weeks Along, 3 Months to Go</a><br />
Day Nine: <a href="http://cjohnt.blogspot.com/2014/10/a-place-of-knowing.html">A Place of Knowing</a><br />
Day Ten: <a href="http://cjohnt.blogspot.com/2014/10/mommy-ed-out.html">Mommy-ed Out</a><br />
Day Eleven: <a href="http://cjohnt.blogspot.com/2014/10/day-eleven.html">Day Eleven</a></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-90370152931724482572014-06-25T10:32:00.000-07:002014-06-25T10:32:05.455-07:0006.25.14Follow me, to the place where feet tread round and round, up and down, with steps so light the path looks unmet. Emotional frailty as life meets life with forceful expansion. Though seeming slow, it tires so quickly, and heavy eyelids, heavy head are a small shadow of the heavy body soon to come.<br />
<br />
Today we only know the exhaustion, qualm, and transitioning of thoughts from me to we. Tomorrow we will know growing pains and boxing matches. And before we know it we will know inexplicable pain followed by indescribable joy.<br />
<br />
What a journey we get to take. To have our love re-create over and over and over again. To see in another's eyes the answers to all our questions of existence, and watch them grow into their own questions that will be met only in another's life.<br />
<br />
It's a peaceful turmoil of inward growth. It's our greatest trial and greatest joy.<br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3EKC12RVS4IketfpyGU_p9uVYBEQIMIdVss9iffmZ3xcaCL-EbF57dvCtLyko8Fde0pxhMKHyyPbI-00gwHWtcsLCpAuHPbSLoqbYx6os78KwzNcV3ncGVVo4Fr6WTmTyEKsWGxe2CA/s1600/10418322_10203028730973727_8987825346550064154_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjy3EKC12RVS4IketfpyGU_p9uVYBEQIMIdVss9iffmZ3xcaCL-EbF57dvCtLyko8Fde0pxhMKHyyPbI-00gwHWtcsLCpAuHPbSLoqbYx6os78KwzNcV3ncGVVo4Fr6WTmTyEKsWGxe2CA/s1600/10418322_10203028730973727_8987825346550064154_n.jpg" height="261" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-62535049193149605662014-05-12T08:37:00.000-07:002014-05-12T08:37:50.039-07:00Breaking In<span style="font-family: inherit;">It can be such a painful and terrifying thing to look deep inside ourselves, past the years of attempted "getting over". If there's one thing I'm learning in this season, it's vulnerability. My lifelong lesson is trust, and right now I get to trust that vulnerability won't leave me wounded, but renewed.</span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Uncorking my emotions has never been my strong suit- it's the outfit stuffed in the very back of my closet. Someone gave it to me once and said I should wear it, but I thought it would look terrible on me so it was never been broken-in. When Max and I first got married this proved to be a (big!) issue. As problems arose he'd be ready talk it out, but I'd go hide in our bed with the blankets over my head- I'm not even joking. I am so </span>embarrassed<span style="font-family: inherit;"> by this now and think Max is a saint for still prying and prodding me open. Growing up this was the habit I had formed and as a married 23 year-old I was still retreating to darkness with my feelings.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Sharing joy and excitement comes so naturally to me, but this was like pulling my own teeth. I was sure eventually the pain would numb, and I had plenty of other good teeth to use. But laying in my bed I realized that I was running out of teeth and marriage was tough, not for gumming and getting by. </span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I wish I could say that now it's easy for me to come right out and talk about things, move on, and be strong. It's going in phases- I'm not good at it, I'm better. I can communicate directly with Max the things I want and need help with. If you didn't already know, hints and indirect communication don't work very well, especially in marriages.</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">But there are always new things being brought to the surface. Rocks, big and small, as my heart is tilled in the day-to-day workings of life. It can be painful, yet such a deep feeling of relief when we find what was causing our roots to not go deep, and to have it pulled out. The words seem so nice and simple for this process, but it's more like the long tiring hours of labor, pushing and pushing, until finally comes the baby. I've never known relief and joy like that. It was also really gross. And the baby was a blessing, not a growth-stunting rock. Definitely not growth stunting...</span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Here's the summary of all these thoughts- vulnerability is a journey, and as I said before the company along the way makes all the difference. Thank you for coming along, I hope you will be encouraged as well. Or at least enjoy these adorable pictures. </span><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTOT-v-VMRntV_3TQbl25tAPesBaPW9YgHuTagoHe_2H9D2Htl6izfRt70s8d_CJxptWI9DJBuPzkSTmb8iQyUzpKK4_OZj33tKcsc6Fh1l2nN6_DJA5xxGVdr8KjsXOVcIsZ2pkoPg44/s1600/2014-05-09+15.32.08.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjTOT-v-VMRntV_3TQbl25tAPesBaPW9YgHuTagoHe_2H9D2Htl6izfRt70s8d_CJxptWI9DJBuPzkSTmb8iQyUzpKK4_OZj33tKcsc6Fh1l2nN6_DJA5xxGVdr8KjsXOVcIsZ2pkoPg44/s1600/2014-05-09+15.32.08.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl7BQEZUFllV2NCWrO3kh8lUdsOlSfo5mgmp3fe1WjKK6k2LLjndDhzZIUIZ0YEuDoIyd0tI4PpGbG6b22x1wz8duSOuMmhKwlJiSldEI4ZjrPYU0a0D9kGjSp-rfCJXufIa0p1qLJRc0/s1600/2014-05-09+15.32.24.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhl7BQEZUFllV2NCWrO3kh8lUdsOlSfo5mgmp3fe1WjKK6k2LLjndDhzZIUIZ0YEuDoIyd0tI4PpGbG6b22x1wz8duSOuMmhKwlJiSldEI4ZjrPYU0a0D9kGjSp-rfCJXufIa0p1qLJRc0/s1600/2014-05-09+15.32.24.jpg" height="478" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ccKCOGUN7mARMwtDjQCzJj_yvNC0x7mhGHF3FLNUrIdhMBFmWIIrZe9BJ8YNCHKBfwW9h_aDW7BYfY1F5lKFLlPlZ1V_0BUkNIuE7UBh7f-jtH5Cx6hPHFIfqzGQbDMmcx9pmL7CuZY/s1600/2014-05-09+15.32.30.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh3ccKCOGUN7mARMwtDjQCzJj_yvNC0x7mhGHF3FLNUrIdhMBFmWIIrZe9BJ8YNCHKBfwW9h_aDW7BYfY1F5lKFLlPlZ1V_0BUkNIuE7UBh7f-jtH5Cx6hPHFIfqzGQbDMmcx9pmL7CuZY/s1600/2014-05-09+15.32.30.jpg" height="480" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioHPLWiF5P24Bbpr3ya20g29FVtbAiT1DKg9om2yoCKKp3Mh89n1yViCOfA-xWwmh807bTUD5XWHwTRG30lM0qgoxhwVUaU_1aN2MmPP5X1FoP3jbClyh0IGA9JJQtCg8hnQ2NRwKhQ-M/s1600/2014-05-09+15.32.43-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEioHPLWiF5P24Bbpr3ya20g29FVtbAiT1DKg9om2yoCKKp3Mh89n1yViCOfA-xWwmh807bTUD5XWHwTRG30lM0qgoxhwVUaU_1aN2MmPP5X1FoP3jbClyh0IGA9JJQtCg8hnQ2NRwKhQ-M/s1600/2014-05-09+15.32.43-1.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnxnbjiW-SGNU9yAtwQmm9TwQURtw8YQnMCfXrArpy65XAOFHzknUpU4yme8MUyligc-VTweDbDPfUm40hjCiUSb2wFF2r-_DxMNJFv6EdpbWHMNDtVt8e5UxZ9AZH_pJI_jxXJy01ur0/s1600/2014-05-09+15.32.47.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhnxnbjiW-SGNU9yAtwQmm9TwQURtw8YQnMCfXrArpy65XAOFHzknUpU4yme8MUyligc-VTweDbDPfUm40hjCiUSb2wFF2r-_DxMNJFv6EdpbWHMNDtVt8e5UxZ9AZH_pJI_jxXJy01ur0/s1600/2014-05-09+15.32.47.jpg" height="640" width="478" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1301949596658708992.post-54866114742858773122014-05-09T08:30:00.000-07:002014-05-09T08:30:46.536-07:00Wonder-WorkersMothering-love is a wonder-working power that transforms little rascals into heroes and divas into princesses. Attitudes are everything as we mold not only these rocket-speed-growing lives, but as we make daily (and every minute of the day) decisions on our reactions. I'm terrible at this. I already see in my daughter the immediate freak-out when things fall over or aren't done the way we wanted. But mirrors of failures can be something so much greater than self-disappointments. I'm learning to look them squarely in the eye and say "we can overcome this mountain, we can practice patience even if it's only for a second longer than last time". How tired are the feet of those who practice patience, but how beautiful are those that bring good news and walk in grace!<br />
<br />
---<br />
<br />
The ability to appreciate and celebrate the people around us is a gift. Some people are amazing at this (some people also really overwhelm me with this). I'm working on finding the middle ground, looking for little ways to show others they are valuable and important.<br />
<br />
Here are a few thoughts on how to celebrate a mom:<br />
<a href="http://www.amazon.com/Surprised-Motherhood-Everything-Never-Expected/dp/1414387857/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1399565240&sr=1-1&keywords=surprised+by+motherhood">This book</a> is changing my life. I've never been so encouraged by book, and left without a trace of guilt or condemnation for not being 100% awesome.<br />
<br />
And <a href="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/0310337909/ref=s9_simh_gw_p14_d0_i1?pf_rd_m=ATVPDKIKX0DER&pf_rd_s=center-7&pf_rd_r=047TW8ZE490JK6JEDQH3&pf_rd_t=101&pf_rd_p=1688200482&pf_rd_i=507846">this</a>- just lovely. I've only previewed it, but I think I was holding my breath the whole time.<br />
<br />
I don't know if there's any young mom that wouldn't hyperventilate with excitement at the offer to take one of those books, $10, and go enjoy it with coffee and a pastry for an hour and half.<br />
<br />
For bonus points- another $50 to peruse Target and purchase something impractical is many-a-mom's dream.<br />
<br />
I'm just baffled that men are confused and perplexed by my gender. All my problems are solved by food, sleep, me-time, a new nail polish, or a little succulent for my collection.<br />
<br />
Life is too short to not celebrate the people around us.<br />
That's all I have to say.<br />
<br />
---<br />
<br />
Also, read <a href="http://lisajobaker.com/2014/05/how-not-to-be-disappointed-this-mothers-day/">this</a> and/or <a href="http://lisajobaker.com/2014/05/11-things-you-can-do-to-actively-encourage-another-mother-today/">this</a>.<br />
<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/10817712065141127572noreply@blogger.com0