Anxiety and the next right thing

A few weeks ago, I noticed a joke I had been making about myself a lot.

"OMG," I would say.  Talking like a text message or a Facebook comment.  "OMG.  I mean, my anxiety is so bad right now, I should probably be medicated!"  And then I would laugh and leave the other person wondering if they were supposed to laugh too or if they should maybe be concerned for me.

I was sitting with those questions myself.  Is this funny, or should I be concerned?

After several months of dealing with anxiety and PTSD like symptoms, I heard myself say the same joking sentence in a group of women I met before the Brave On conference with Red Tent Living.  And maybe it sounded differently because a woman who sat across from me at the table has seen me before.  Her eyes showed compassion and concern and I think I heard myself say it seriously for the first time.

My anxiety is so bad right now.  
I should probably be medicated.

At the conference, a fellow Red Tent Living writer talked about doing the next right thing.  I have heard the same truth spoken from one of my favorite bloggers turned authors and activists, Glennon Doyle.  I wrote down in my journal that evening asking myself that question.

What is the next right thing?

Immediately I knew that going to the doctor about my anxiety was the next right thing.  Self-medicating and ignoring whatever was going on for me has not been working out well.  I needed help and it was okay to ask for it.  I made an appointment with my doctor the following week.  The day of the appointment, the nurse was attempting to summarize why I was there and what I had been experiencing.  I started crying and I couldn't talk.  Her eyes grew wide and she said, "That's okay.  I'll just let you talk to the doctor."  She proceeded to type several sentences into the computer which left me feeling like she was writing up some kind of assumption or judgement of me and how crazy I was.

I wanted to run out of the room.  I almost did once.  But, I sat there and waited until the friendly face of my doctor came into my room, sat down and handed me a box of tissues.  "What's going on Jennifer?  Todd has told me a little bit, but what's been happening for you?"

Through my tears I began to share what my anxiety has looked and felt like over the last few months.

The insomnia and nightmares.  Waking up when I do sleep because I think I hear my children screaming in their bedrooms.  Bursting into uncontrollable tears about small things, like messing up the sauce that went with my Greek Lemon Chicken recipe.  Screaming and yelling at my boys all the time and about everything.  And overwhelming moments that I assume are anxiety or panic attacks that feel exactly like my body felt when going through withdrawls from the narcotics I was on for almost half a year.  I wring my hands and arms and legs and I feel like I'm trying to escape my body and I can't begin to describe how awful it feels and how crazy it makes me. And I confessed that if I sleep, I can only sleep with alcohol.  I knew that was a habit that I desperately and quickly needed to break.

She made a plan for me and my care.  While these things are mostly trial and error as we figure out what works, I felt a glimmer of hope that the ball was rolling.  I had shared with someone the hell I've been living with inside of my head, what I had been doing to cope and live with it, and I asked for help. She scheduled several different blood tests in addition to starting me on some new medications.  She recommended a sleep aid that isn't addictive or habit-forming.  And ya'll - by the grace of God, it has been working.  I get sleepy and fall asleep and sleep.  ALL. NIGHT.  LONG.  While I wake up groggy, I'm grateful to have slept at all - and without having to drink myself to sleep.

Realizing that anxiety was becoming a prominent and ongoing problem for me felt like defeat.  I've always thought I should be stronger or to somehow manage all of this on a spiritual level.  I've heard growing up in church my whole life that we can do all things through Christ!  And we are more than conquerors!  And to cast all your cares upon Him and not to worry or be anxious.  I thought that knowing Jesus, meant not struggling with anxiety like I was.

I've been learning though, that knowing Jesus means living with anxiety and seeing that He meets me in the middle of it.  Knowing Jesus and living with anxiety means admitting and owning my own frailty and weakness because that is when He is strong in me.  I've learned that being strong here doesn't mean I won't have anxiety attacks or insomnia.  Being strong here means asking for help and getting myself the care my body and mind desperately needs.

It's easy to feel like a hot mess. It's easy to believe I am hopeless especially when health or life seems to roll from one struggle to the next.  And it's easy to get overwhelmed when I see how long the journey is ahead of me for all that I am facing with health and wellness.

But the wise words of wise women I deeply admire are resonating deeply within me:  Do the next right thing.  

Aren't those words both motivating and comforting?  Not thinking about the 34 steps that need to happen after this first one.  Just stay right here, the next right thing, this day.

So, I'm trying to have those five simple words be my current life mantra. Not just with my anxiety and overall health, but in every facet of my life. Do the next right thing.

What is your next right thing?

Love is not the fence we build around our lives

As we hunkered down in our homes last weekend, bracing for the worst, Hurricane Harvey took an unexpected shift and unleashed it's fury on our neighbors in Houston.  As the horrific events continued to unfold, I felt sick to my stomach.  I cried real and big tears for the families caught in rising flood waters.  Images of children laying on their kitchen counters, people sitting on their rooftop waving desperately for help, the elderly sitting in a pool of floodwater waiting to be rescued flooded my Facebook newsfeed.  


I watched my beach home-away-from-home, Port Aransas, ripped to shreds from the hurricane.  The whole little town will need rebuilding, and while I don't live there or even own property in that little port of a town, I feel like part of me got ripped apart too.  Seeing the video and pictures of the wreckage was emotionally devastating.  It's amazing how places become part of who you are over time. 

On Monday, I sent Tommy off to his first day of third grade.  As I snapped his annual first-day-of-school picture, I thought about the Houston mothers who weren't sending their kiddoes off to school.  School supplies and new school clothes that will be considered one of many losses in their homes.  I wondered what they might be feeling and I felt a heavy blanket of ambivalence between guilt and gratitude.  Mostly though, I felt grief.

I have found myself uttering small prayers throughout every day as I feel a wave of sadness wash over me.  It's so close to home, and it's Texas.  They are my people.  They are me.  And I would need someone to think of me and pray for me because I know I would be crying on a Monday morning that I was supposed to send my child to school and instead was mourning the loss of our home and belongings and our everyday mundane normalcy.

Yesterday morning, I walked outside my door to an absolutely beautiful 75 degree morning, which simply does not ever happen in August in San Antonio.  The sun was shining and the sky was nearly clear.  There was an autumn-like breeze in the air that caught my breath and I stood in my driveway and closed my eyes.  It was so beautiful and lovely and I was standing there outside of my home, with car keys in hand ready to head off to work on a normal day.  I prayed for Houston and I prayed that some wife and mom just like me could feel some measure of comfort and peace in the same moment I was taking in the glory of my morning.  I felt overwhelmingly blessed and so undeserving. 

I've taken so much pride in watching my city and state come together to help one another.  There has been an abundance of people showing up, taking care, ready to help and chip in.  Our own Texas-based grocery store, HEB, had a disaster relief team in place the moment it was clear for them to get to the affected areas to offer food, supplies, banking services and medical attention.  Friends with boats have headed there to rescue those stuck in rising waters.  The very company I work for, created a donation station and our customers and employees showed up with water, food, and stuffed animals for the kids to deliver to Houston and the outlying areas. 

Churches and schools, radio stations, musicians, banks, stores - everyone is in this.  And while what has happened to our dear brothers and sisters is absolutely devastating, what is happening right behind it is glorious.  Everywhere you go, someone is helping, volunteering, and putting something together to help everyone.  All of it feels so much like the body of Christ I can hardly stand it.  People helping others, loving on those in need - it doesn't get more Jesus than that and I see His light in this everywhere. 

Our little family is donating, volunteering, and praying together every night.  Would you join us in prayer especially for Port Aransas, Rockport, and all the small towns outside of the Houston area that have suffered greatly as well?  All of us praying, giving, doing, going - it really does make a difference.  Let's keep it up - we have a long road ahead of us to love on our neighbors as we help them rebuild.

Recently, I've been listening to Nichole Nordeman's new album, Every Mile Mattered.  She has a beautiful and tender song called "Anywhere We Are," that feels so fitting for anyone who is going through any kind of storm.  If you are in need of some comfort tonight, I hope you have a listen and that her words and melody bless your heart and soul in all the places that need a bit of tenderness in all you are facing.

The time I threw myself a birthday party

Last Sunday I turned 36.  For some reason, 36 sounds much older than 35 and I sort of forgot I had even turned 35 because I had boycotted my birthday last year for the first time in the history of my life.  I was between surgeries and I couldn't eat food and was living exclusively on protein shakes and the occasional decadent bowl of Spaghettios now and again when I was desperate to put food in my mouth.  And lets be honest, Spaghettios are only "sort of" food.  But celebrating a birthday without chocolate cake or any kind of food I could actually chew, didn't sound like a birthday I wanted to have.  So I ignored turning 35 and vowed to party it up the next year.

Now, anyone who knows me, knows I am not the kind of person who waits around for people to ask me what I'm doing for my birthday or make a plan.  I'm usually like, "Hey!  Um, my birthday is coming and here's what I want to do!"  And I also have a hard time with friends who want to keep their birthdays "low-key" or "simple," probably because I am neither low-key or simple and I look for all the reasons in everyday life to party.  It's who I am and I don't apologize for it.

And I did.  I so did.  I sent out real invitations - the paper kind that you write on and require postage stamps.  I promised myself I wasn't going to choose a theme, because once I choose a theme, I can get a little carried away.  But then I was at Walmart and passed by all of the fun fiesta things and I realized how much I love chips and salsa and margaritas, and a birthday fiesta seemed to be quite fitting.

(Also, if you don't know why our local Walmarts carry a surplus of fiesta related things this time of year, than you are probably not from San Antonio.  The whole city has a week-long party in April to salute the heroes of the battles of the Alamo and San Jacinto.  What it feels like though, is celebrating our Latin-American culture by cracking confetti eggs on each other's head and eating all the delicious Mexican food in the land.  Also, others may drink a few too many margaritas, but I digress.)

A fiesta felt like the perfect choice.  I had much to celebrate, including being alive and being much healthier than I was this time last year.  Fiesta's bright and vibrant colors suited my current season and so I put up decorations, just for me.

I invited my dearest friends and family.  We wore tiny sombreros and ate chips and queso and we played hilarious games.  Pie in the face showdown is epic.  And very messy.  It's a new family favorite.

The night was full of laughter and fun and I decided throwing myself a birthday party was probably one of the best ideas I ever had.

A week later, I woke up and I was 36.  My kitchen contained remnants of crushed tortilla chips on the floor, sticky counters from dripped margarita mix, and plastic yellow cups some tipped over on their side.  All of it made me smile.

There are days that I get up and look in the mirror and remember that I am a woman now.  And maybe that's an odd thing to say, but I feel like I've spent so many years figuring out what it even means to be a woman.  There are days when I still feel 11 or 16 or 22 and perhaps that's how life goes.  The older we get, we are just made up of all of the ages we've ever been.  There is still a little girl inside of me that loves play and magic and dress up.  A teenager that lived so quiet and depressed that wants to live life now like she would have then if she had been happy and confident.  And the young adult who still desires to live life or make choices that aren't the best ones, but feel like the fun ones. 

Someone told me the other day that I sparkle.  I let her compliment hit me and allowed myself accept her words that felt redeeming and glorious. There were so many years and seasons before where that wouldn't have been or felt true of me.

I'll be married eleven years this June.  I have two boys, a mortgage and a full-time job.  I'm a Star Wars nerd and geek out over Marvel superheroes and I love action movies and Bruno Mars' music.  I enjoy folding laundry and sitting in the sunshine and being by the ocean is my ultimate happy place.  I love chocolate-chocolate cupcakes and reading good books and drinking bold coffee with cream.  I am outgoing, naturally loud and am never one to shy away from the spotlight.  And I believe that it is only by God's grace and love that I am who I am and where I am today.  I'd be lost without Jesus. 

Also, I believe in party hats.

I am 36.  I'm grateful, happy.  And sparkling.

Vibrant

Sunny, breezy and loud, I stood there shoulder to shoulder with friends and a crowd of two thousand people up early to run a 5K.  And not just any 5k, the Color Vibe 5K.  If you haven’t heard of these runs, they are known for colored chalk-powder that is blown or thrown at you while you run the course.  Music pumped loudly while the deejay charged up the crowd.  We danced and jumped and stretched to stay warm and get ready for the run.  I was surrounded by teenage girls in too-short shorts, the serious athletes recognizable by their defined calf muscles and serious running gear gadgets and middle-aged women dressed in rainbow tulle tutus and pig-tails. 

The runners, the wanna-be runners (like myself who is more of a "wogger" - a term I coined for my awesome running move that is somewhere between a walk and a jog), the not-runners-at-all, the young, the old, gay, straight, black, white, brown - everyone belonged.  I could see with my own eyes that people could still come together and be without division or hate.  I noted how diverse the people were around me and felt a little hope for the world I live in.

And then it was time.

3. 2. 1.   

The deejay counted us down and we all let our color packets loose into the air.

For this one, brief moment, the air was hazy and thick of color and magic.  You could almost reach out and touch the energy of excitement surging through the crowd.  I had seen a video before, but it was all together something different to be right in the middle of it. I can’t remember if it was quiet or loud, I only remember feeling and it was one of those moments I felt inherently alive.  Color splashed everywhere and a hilarious pandemonium ensued of laughter and cheers and screams of delight as everyone was drenched head to toe in bright, flashy neons. 

My friends and I made our way through the course.  Stations of yellow, pink, green and blue powder thrown at us while we ran through.  I stretched out my fingertips and leaned into it.  The goal seemed to end up as vibrant with color as possible.  We jogged some and walked some.  We talked and laughed and I could feel my muscles burning as they moved, but in the good kind of way that makes you feel strong.

We finished in 44 minutes, 3 minutes under my last 5K time.  I gave myself an internal fist bump because it felt good to know I had gotten faster even if it was only 3 minutes.  Because it was THREE WHOLE MINUTES.  I felt the weight of what it meant for me to cross the finish line. How there have been so many times I would start things and not finish them.  Or hesitate to ever begin because I didn't believe in myself that I had the courage to complete whatever it was. Starting and finishing things.  It's what I do now.  

It was hilarious and fun, messy and loud.   The day felt like an invitation to live more of life.  To lean in to things.  To start things and get them finished.  To keep reaching for goals.  To feel the burn and know my strength.  To acknowledge diversity around me and see the hope - to be the hope.

To stretch out my fingertips and live vibrantly.

2016: Year End Review, Survey Style

I suppose 2016 will go down as the year in history that kicked all of our asses.  Didn't it though?  It just wouldn't stop.  I have yet to meet a person that was like, "Yea!  2016 was my jam!  It did me good!"  I wanted to write something poetic and full of deep reflection, but you know what?  I really just want to tell 2016 to f'*&% off and be done with it. Based on my use of profanity as of late, 2016 has made me into something of a potty mouth.  Regardless, I thought it would be fun though to take a look back at 2016 survey style as I close down ye old blog for the year.  After searching the interwebs about questions to encourage year-end reflections, I found several, some serious and some light-hearted, of things I most definitely want to remember about 2016, and some I also might want to forget.

What am I most proud of this year? 

My health and fitness.  Though I still have a ways to go, I have started and maintained new habits in regards to my eating and exercising that I have never kept up for as long as I've had.  It feels SO good to head into a new year with good habits already in motion so I have a place to keep building on rather than feeling like I have to start from scratch.  My weight loss and fitness goals feel attainable this year and I'm excited to keep pressing on.

Where am I feeling stuck?

My job/career/work.  I am good at my job as a bookkeeper, and it has proved to be a good income for my family.  But I also deeply long to have a job that needs some of my creative talents too.  This is a place I want to be open to taking some risks and thinking outside the box.

Where do I need to allow myself grace?

As a mother.  I am so hard on myself for all that I get wrong or mess up.  I worry about not being all that my boys need me to be and I feel like I'm failing them.

How did I spend my free time?

Netflix.  Way too much Netflix.  There might be a New Year's resolution in there somewhere.

When have I felt the most alive?

At the beach.

When I'm running (to be interpreted as a very slow jog).

During worship.

What is the hardest decision I made this year?

Leaving our church.  It was and remains to be the most gut-wrenching decision we've been faced with in the last several years.  Severed relationships and devastating wounds.  It has SUCKED.

What do I need to let go of? 

Trying to fit in places where I don't belong.

What old habits would I like to release?

Biting my nails.  Comparing myself to other people. 

What new habits would I like to cultivate?

Family devotions on a daily basis where we have a time focused on our faith and prayer.

Creating more time for reading and writing.

      

What were some of my favorite memories this year?

Getting to be a part of the IF:Gathering even though I was still sick.

My first date night with Todd when I was well again.   

Family karaoke day.

Being at the beach with Todd.

Poppy blowing out exploding candles on his birthday cake.

Christmas cookie decorating with my family.  

What was the single most challenging thing that happened?

My illness, surgery and recovery.

What was an unexpected joy this past year?

After being sick for so long and becoming well again, I have a new appreciation for the things that I am able to do like cooking, cleaning, and exercise.  Just being able to take care of my family and care for my home after not being able to for so long, has brought me so much joy.

What was an unexpected obstacle? 

A struggle with pain medications and alcohol that I never saw coming.  Very grateful for help and healing in this place the last couple of months.

Pick three words to describe this past year 

Expensive.  HARD.  Rewarding.

Who were your most valuable relationships with?

Todd, my boys, Sarah, Shelly.

What was your single biggest time waster in your life this past year?

Facebook, Pinterest and Netflix.  And being on my phone.  *sigh*

What was the best way you used your time this past year?

Playing with my boys, exercising, and having sex with my husband.

What new things did you discover about yourself?

That I can be disciplined, I can do and get through hard things, that I have an inner-athlete that's been trying to get out.  And that I'm not a republican.

What was the best news you received this year?

"Yes, you can eat now." (After months of living on a liquid diet).

What, or who, are you most thankful for?

My husband and boys, a handful of faithful and precious friends, God's unending grace, improved health, and having all I need and then some.  

What was the best movie you saw this year?

Captain America: Civil War.  I'm a superhero-loving geek at heart.

What was your favorite compliment that you received this year?

That I seem so joyful and at peace.  And knowing that it was really true.

What little things did you most enjoy during your day-to-day life?

Morning coffee, sitting around the dinner table with my little family, singing to Jacob before bedtime, building Legos with Tommy, Todd kissing my neck when I'm cooking in the kitchen.

Was there anything you did for the very first time in your life this year?

Other than undergo surgery?  No.  But, I do have a short bucket list of some things I would like to do and try next year. And skydiving is totally on that list....

What was your favorite moment spent with your friends?

Riding on giant stuffed animals in the mall with Tiffany and Canadia.

How did your overall outlook on life evolve?  

I think I could write an entire blog post just on this question.  I think my overall outlook on life changed and evolved in so many different places.  After my illness and recovery, I felt a deeper sense of gratitude to simply go about my every day life.  So many of us take our health and wellness for granted and that isn't something I want to lose sight of again.  After a tumultuous year politically and seeing so many tragic events occur in our nation and the world, I have been faced with overwhelming convictions of my role to bring peace and love and charity into the lives of others who are hurting.  I am beginning to change my passive stance to a more active one.

What advice would you give your early 2016 self if you could?

"It's gonna be a hell of a ride girl, hang on tight!"

What do you want the overarching theme for your 2017 to be?

Reach, strive and don't quit.   

Always be humble and kind.   

Be joy and peace and bring it to others.

What do you want your everyday life to be like?

Continue with healthy eating and exercise habits.

Lose my shit less with my boys.

Less Netflix and wasting time on my phone.

Being more present, even if it hurts to be.  

What are your hopes, dreams and goals for 2017?

Finish a half marathon, take a creative writing course, pay off some debt and save more money, throw myself a big birthday party, go skydiving, buy a sexy red dress, be more involved with my children in giving back to our community and those in need.

It really was a doozy of a year for me personally, but it was also a year of extreme growth and humility as a person, and for that, I am grateful.  Looking forward to a new year with fresh eyes, an encouraged heart and deeper resolve.  May 2017 be filled with an abundance of blessings and unending grace to get us through the hard times.

Happy New Year!

(Oh, and f*%& off 2016!!)                                 

A Story of Rescue

Since I was a girl, I have struggled with food, my weight, and various eating disorders.  Over the years, I have tried and failed dozens of diets, started up and canceled gym memberships, gotten personal trainers, seen doctors with medical programs, and tried various pills and shakes a hundred other crazy things to get this weight off of me.  I have been through countless sessions of therapy to process through every facet of why I am the way that I am.  Nevertheless, I have been scarily obese for a long time.

My body has been incredibly sick.  Last year, I gained more weight than I had in a while and I was nearly at the point of no longer being able to find clothes in a store in my size. My blood pressure and Rheumatoid Arthritis were becoming increasingly problematic.  I felt like a ticking time-bomb and was living with this great, unspoken fear that I could die from a stroke or heart attack because of the severity of both my weight and inflammation due to my RA.  I remember teaching my son how to dial 911 on my cell phone and how to give them our address in case anything happened to me or Todd.  I taught him this mostly because I was scared something could happen to me.  I felt stuck in a body that I didn't know how to care for and in desperate, desperate need for help.

I have cried out to God about this for most of my life.  I have prayed, confessed, prayed some more, and tried to do whatever it was that I thought He was leading me to do. But to be honest, I have always felt like God turned a blind eye to me in this place.  I felt abandoned by Him, left to figure it out on my own.  He has felt silent and quiet and all the years that I would cry out to Him - even for the strength to do anything in Christ like we read in Philippians 4:13 - it felt like He wasn't there or  wouldn't give me whatever it was I needed to have to stick to a healthy way of living. 

Last year as my fear over my body, my RA and my overall health began to mount, I began begging God to rescue me.  I asked Him to heal my body, to do something and get some of this weight off of me somehow.  These words are in my prayer journal:

Please God, I need Your rescue.  I don't know what else to pray about this anymore. Just please step in and rescue me!  Do something. Intervene.  Save me!  I beg you, please!  I need You.  I am so scared.  Please, rescue me?

And months later, He did.

It started on December 20th when I was hosting a Christmas party for some friends.  I was having some abdominal discomfort and began running a fever.  Two days later, my pain was so intense I decided to go to the hospital.  I was diagnosed with diverticulitis and sent home with medication.  However, my particular case turned out to be an infection of epic proportions.  Several ER visits later and a transfer to a different facility, I ended up in the hospital for 27 days to treat my infection and an abscess that had formed.  Once I was finally sent home, I was still ill and was treated with IV antibiotics and a liquid diet.  I then awaited a second surgery to remove the bad part of my colon that had been the most infected.

These five months have been both awful and wonderful all at the same time.  It seems as though when we go through something difficult, that there is joy and beauty to be found from the people that come to love on you and be the hands and feet of Jesus. 

I have been in intense pain and have experienced an equal amount of comfort from family and friends.  I have been out of work and our finances could have been in shambles.  But God provided all we have needed and we haven't gone without a single thing.  I went 27 nights without kissing my boys good night and tucking them in to bed, but they were loved and cared for in my absence.  My mother-in-law did my laundry and washed my dishes and vacuumed my floors and kept my home running when I couldn't.  I cried a thousand tears for all I knew my husband had to shoulder, and was blown away by his ability to hold and handle all of this with strength and grace.  Friends brought meals, watched our children, took down my Christmas decorations, came to pray, brought gifts and wrote cards of encouragement.  I have never been more humbled in my entire life by the love and support I was given during this time.

It is now the end of April.  I have now had the second surgery and I am almost back to normal and routine and work and ministry and doing the things I enjoy.  But, it was at the end of February when I was home sick when I finally realized what was happening.  This was the rescue I had prayed for.  He was doing what I had begged of Him.  It was happening and it had come through this awful bout with diverticulitis.

I feel as though I've been given new eyes to see.  My perspective has shifted on my body, on food, and on self-care.  My taste buds have changed because I have had to go so long without solid food.  My thought process behind eating is different because I want to nourish my body and care for my insides by what I put into them.  I realized that all of the time I dieted and felt as though I was missing out on something, I really wasn't.  Missing out is when you're bed-ridden and can't do anything for yourself.  When you can't live, and love and work or play with your kids - that is missing out.

So far, I've lost 75 pounds. While that loss has come with great cost and it's been the worst way in the world to lose weight ever - it is evidence of the rescue that I so desperately prayed for.  For the first time, I finally feel like I can keep going and lose the rest of what I need to be at a healthier weight.  My surgeon who went above and beyond to repair my broken body, offered to monitor my weight loss and continue to see me for maintenance.  She has been such a gift to know and has made me feel safe, comfortable and confident in her care. 

Over the weekend, Todd and I took a day trip to the coast with the boys.  It was our first really fun outing since before I got sick with the boys and we all needed it.  The beach is my most favorite place in the world.  I've always felt like I could almost reach out and touch God with my fingertips because  it feels as if He's just past the edge of the horizon.  As I sat there on the shoreline watching my boys play, basking in glorious sunshine and listening to the waves crash one on top of the other, I began to cry.

Thank you.  Thank you for all of it.  Every blown IV.  Every morsel of food I couldn't eat.  Every pain, every tear, every night I spent alone in the hospital.  Every face and friend and loved one that held me up.  I am so grateful.  You rescued me.  You've changed me.  You did this thing and I don't know what else to say but thank you. Thank you!  I praise your name!

And because I hear God speak to my heart.....

I love you.  I worked all of this together for your good. I am with you and I am for you - I have ALWAYS been.  I make all things beautiful in My time.  I love you.  I AM.

I don't know why it took so long to get here.  I don't know why God felt silent for so many years in this place. Perhaps He was waiting for me to come to this place of utter desperation.  I don't know why He chose to rescue me with diverticulitis or to answer this specific prayer in the way that He did.  But, I do know that this was His doing.  I do know that He showed up and rescued me here. 

My heart, my faith, my body, my life is forever changed by it.  Oh, may it ever be so.

Family Beach Trip

The beach has always been my most favorite place in the world, so when I think of vacationing, I think of sand and ocean and water and being poolside in the sunshine.  I grew up going to the coast with my family almost every summer and those memories are some of the sweetest that I have.  I wanted to give my boys some of the same memories.

Last week, we drove down to Port Aransas and stayed for the week.  Seeing as it was our first vacation in six years and our first as a family, we quickly discovered that going on vacation with children feels much different.  Like when they wake up at 7:00am, and one needs a nap and the other would rather watch Star Wars than build a sandcastle.  There is no sleeping in or late dinners or long walks on the beach at night. But there was plenty of playtime and snuggles and jumping on our bed in the morning.  It was nice to have nothing to do other than enjoy our boys and be together. The week came with it's disappointments, but it came with fun memories too.  Jacob wasn't crazy about the beach, but Tommy seemed to enjoy it.  Tommy hates the pool for some reason and Jacob doesn't want to get out of it.  It's almost as if they have two parents who are just as opposite as they are.

Me?  I could stay outside all day.  Nothing is more relaxing than sitting by the ocean listening to wave after wave come to shore or by the pool with a good book and an ice-cold drink.

The week was full of adventure, relaxing and playtime.  We went swimming and built sandcastles.  We ate ice-cream and sno-cones and had the best shrimp at ever at Snoopy's.  We sat on the shore and watched the waves.  We played with our friends who got to join us for some of the time.  We watched sea turtles and dolphins go in and out of the bay at the Marina.  We walked on the boardwalk and even saw a real pirate ship. 

Our time together was sweet and much needed.  And like any vacation, it was good to get away and it was very good to come home too. 

 

 

   

Our summer beach trip is now behind us and summer is coming to an end already.  We are buying school supplies and readying ourselves for Kindergarten and new routines and getting back into the swing of regular life and ministry and the every day we are used to. 

Thankful for memories.  How I treasure them, especially the sweetest ones.

Joy

It's usually when I'm washing dishes or trying out a new recipe or putting away the seventh load of laundry that I feel it.  Gratitude mixed in with a healthy helping of joy.  That stirring in my heart of how wonderful life feels in that moment.  Which is maybe somewhat odd because I think of many other things more fulfilling (and fun) than dishes or laundry. 

My Friday morning snapshot of fingers and toes, coupons, laundry and July's summer morning light pouring in through the windows captures joy and life - and the mess too.  I've been purposing to notice the sweetness in the midst of chaos and the parts of my life that just need getting done.

Even in the work, the never-ending chores, the baby who keeps barfing all over my cute tops, I feel this joy underneath it all.  It's like a deep, warm harmony to a lovely song I can't stop singing.

Life has felt complicated and full.  And I'm overwhelmed, emotional, torn, confused.  I've complained about my kids and my work and my schedule and our bills.  My lack of me-time and girls nights and real, grown-up adult conversations.  But even with all my complaints, I notice and see.  The eucharisteo.  Pieces and fragments of moments that make up the life I've been given and set free to live. 

Chasing my four year old around in the house.  Enjoying precious moments of Jacob's laughter.  Feeling Todd's soft kisses on my neck while I'm making dinner.  That feeling of rest that comes when everything is done, put away, and ready for the next week ahead.  Watching Todd play with Tommy when I know he would rather spend his Sunday afternoon napping.

I've been learning that not everything in life is always going to feel all good all of the time.  That it's okay if there are pieces of it that are messy or disappointing or just plain rotten.  I can feel the bad parts and move forward.  I guess I've been trudging through the rough spots and purposing to revel in the good.  Saying no to things and no to people even at the risk of disappointing someone.  Saying yes to more quiet, more family time, more of Him.

This face - the one solely responsible for spit-up stains on my clothes...there is much to delight in. I love that he smiles even with his eyes.  The fullness he brings to our lives, our home and hearts. 

There's a little bit of rotten, a bunch of lousy, and a mountain of disappointment.  

But after all of that, in all of that, before all of that - there's an overflowing abundance of joy.

Seven

Last year's anniversary celebration was so fun and romantic and full of adventure that we knew it would be hard to top it.  After all, we had much to celebrate especially since it had been the year that we had nearly fallen apart.  There was absolutely no chance of a getaway this year considering the way things worked out with North Dakota, which means absolutely zero vacation days for Todd the rest of the year. 

But last week, we tried to make the most of his grueling schedule and our limited together-time and headed off to a restaurant that is special for us.  We held our rehearsal dinner at a place called The Barn Door.  Maybe not the kind of location most would consider wedding rehearsal "elegant" - but Todd and I are more low-key and it suited us well.  I still remember that night - we all dressed in camo and had cut-outs of deer on the tables as decorations. Clearly, it was Todd-themed and casual - and I loved it.  We gathered our closest friends and family and we gave words and gifts to the people that meant the most to us and listened to their hearts for us too.  It was a sweet night I will treasure for always.  Going there to celebrate year seven of marriage just felt right.

We dined over some juicy steaks and reflected on the year behind us.  We thought about the special moments it held, how my pregnancy and Jacob and the North Dakota job changed so much for us.  How different life felt one year down the road from our last anniversary and that being parents of two feels much, much different than being parents of just one. 

In some ways the last year flew by.  And in others, the days were hard and long and struggle-filled.  And yet we looked at each other across the table and decided that the other was still the person that we wanted to do life with.

We talked about our hopes, our goals for the future - what we might like to see for year ten and where we might be three years from now.  We dreamed about a summer vacation next year, perhaps to Michigan to finally spend time with our much-missed friends there. 

But we caught ourselves dreaming.  About moving to New Braunfels (where we attend church and practically spend all our free time at now) at some point, about jobs, about things we wanted to do with our boys, about how we wanted to purpose to live in certain places, about adding on to our family later on.  Dreaming has never been something that has come easy for us.  We've usually been so discouraged by life and how things never work out and more often than not, we would sit and complain or talk about how life seems to work out for everyone else we knew and throw ourselves a pity-party.  True story. 

And even though we could easily add North Dakota to the list of things that didn't work out, that whole story has really done something in us.  We have become dreamers.

If year six was the year that God rescued us and held us together....year seven was the year he expanded our hearts and gave us the room to dream.

It is fun to wonder what might become of all of the dreaming.  Especially those that He has planted in our hearts....