I Love Motherhood More Than I Ever Imagined

You may imagine that I'm writing such a titled post in a blissful wave of giggles and ease with my little man, nary a complaint in sight. But you'd be wrong. In fact, it's been a very trying week. Asher has been really fussy and uncomfortable, whining about 80% of his awake time, and threatening to break the streak of even his most fail-safe favorites (his Animal Babies book and being outside in any capacity). On top of this, M has been fiercely working on a mixing and sound design project against an impossible deadline for a major client, so finding moments of zen are hard to come by for all of us.

Nevertheless, it is even in such a week that I can say that being a mom is more wonderful than I could have possibly known. 

I guess everyone says that (or those who don't probably don't broach the subject often), but you have to understand that I didn't always want to be a mother. In fact, I spent the majority of my life not wanting kids. They confused me, they scared me, they annoyed me...I was good imagining a yard full of dogs, y'all. 

But then I met my husband. And I was like, "Yup. Babies." 

I don't have to explain to any mother out there that it's exhausting, it's physically the most demanding thing ever, it stretches your perception of self to include another squishy being, and it will change everything. Forever. There's scarcely a true grasp of life before my son anymore. 

Every time I hold my boy close and feel his baby hairs against my cheek, I just want to cry in absolute gratefulness that the Lord saw fit to make me Asher's mother, and to melt a heart of stone to experience even a shadow of God's unfailing love for us, hobbling babes who survive on trust and hope. I'm thankful that He knows better than me, and that my plans don't often come to fruition.

Because His plans are so, so much better.

Giving Back and Pouring Out

When it's been a while between posts, I often feel the need to apologize and catch y'all up in some way to explain the gap. But lately, God has really been showing me the value of simplifying, and following where He leads versus trying to cover the ground I've set for myself. So I imagine the gaps will continue, and I'm OK with that, but I felt something on my heart that I wanted to share, and I truly value having this outlet to communicate such things.

About six weeks ago, M and I finally put pen to paper (well, the electronic version of that: we made a spreadsheet) to help us develop, maintain, and work through a proper budget. We were both independent for a long time, having met and married in our late-twenties, so the adjustments required when embarking on a shared life have been present, albeit welcomed. Financial adjustments are an obvious one, yet it can be surprising, all the little things that become important once you're married and/or have a home. We both felt the calling to be the best stewards of our resources as we can be, and (eventually) trusted God with the counsel and tools He placed in our lives. First and foremost, we leaned on His Word, and (not surprisingly) everything else pretty much stems from and circles back to those principals.

Yes, I'm talking about tithing, y'all. Groan, hiss, grumble, grumble, right? In the past, I've literally refused to return to churches that seem to belabor this topic, so I hear ya, but I also realized (in hindsight) that it was hitting a nerve that I wanted left the heck alone...but would eventually have to deal with to grow and receive what God had in store. Wherever you're at on this, take heart...and a deep breath. Nothing but grace and love here, because we've all probably been there (or will be there) at one time or another. (Be sure to tune when we've got children who dream of ponies and Ivy League schools. Methinks we'll be spending a lot of time in our prayer closet.)

One of the first elements locked into our budget was the formal line item of handing over 10% of anything that came to us. In times of feast, this is an easy deal. But during those relative famines, made all the more real when one or more in the equation is self-employed (i.e. perpetually unemployed unless work finds you), it can be a serious challenge. If you've been struggling to feed yourself or pay bills, even a $20 offering can bring you to tears, feeling like you can afford to give it away, but wanting so badly to feel confidence in doing so. (Been there, my friend.) 

It's a heart issue. It really is. It's not about the number, the logic, the "responsible" thing to do. It's a matter of our heart. When we're anchored in the truth that nothing (and by that, I mean NOTHING) belongs to us--but rather that everything we have (our money, our home, our kids, our skills and talents) is handed down from The Lord for us to manage--it is with a different spirit that we write that check, or hand over that bill.

We're not owners; we're managers. We don't give to earn anything, or to gain favor. Hear this loud and clear: God doesn't need your money. He's God, yo. The Lord Almighty needs NOTHING. However, He desires, in his precious love and mercy, to bring you and me into the folds of HIS story, where we may play a supporting role in the grand victory that belongs to God, and God alone. He is and always will be the hero. Not us, but Him. And hallelujah for that! Our tithe is just one of many ways that we can participate, and it's OK to take some time to come around to this and to really rest in the truth of our role in the whole deal. (I'll admit: my world has been rocked more than once when someone tried to set me straight on this. While I didn't think that I was the center of the universe, I did, in fact, think that--in some belief or practice. So, yeah, catch your balance first. Get there.)

So let's get practical...

Where do you steward this 10%? If you belong to a church, that's a good place to send your money. They need it. If you're a member, then that's your outlet, or at least the primary one. If you don't belong to a church, pray for one. The church is VITAL, and living in community isn't just a lovely option in the Christianity benefits package handed down when you sign up. (Please note the sarcasm here, folks. The only "package" we need is The Word, and your commitment to Christ was not a signed document, but the signature of Christ's blood on the cross and your faith in that grace.) But if, for whatever reason, you don't have a church, find a place to pour out. Many charities these days are blasted for unsavory practices, and non-profits are revealed to have CEOs who drive vehicles that cost more than most homes. It's a bummer, absolutely, but don't let that be an excuse. One of the organizations that we pour into (in addition to the church in which we are covenant members) is International Living Streams. We are blessed to personally know the couple who started this organization, and who run the orphanage in Kenya. We can trust where are funds are going, and know that it is also being stewarded well to the glory of God, and that's a gift we don't take lightly.

Friends, I don't have it all figured out, and I know that God will continue to grow me during every moment and season I have on this Earth. But I share this insight and our journey not as the "right" way or the "winning formula," but as encouragement, to pass along the joy and abundance that we've experienced in the process. Is budgeting super fun? Nah, not really. (OK, that's half true. I'm super Type A and partially relish such regular interaction with my spreadsheet, but let's assume...safely, I think...that most folks are not such fans.) But, like many things we're called to do, it's not important that we feel like doing it, but rather that we do. That we obey. And that we TRUST.

CHIME IN: Have you found a certain tool or practice that rocked your proverbial financial world (in a good way)? Any favorite charities or organizations that you support financially?

God Helps Those Who Help Themselves...And Other Christian Misfires

You know how you hear something often enough, that it just becomes truth by osmosis? It sinks in, makes a home, and though you can't remember from whence it came, you sure do hold strong to it. (And if for no other reason that we don't, as a people, like to admit when we're wrong...especially persisting for, oh, in the neighborhood of decades.)

There were many things I used to believe, some of them tied to my idea of Christian faith, that I look back on in regret. Not regretting that I believed them, per se, since many of these pearls of wisdom (which later turned out to be moth balls painted a glimmering white), were passed along with good intention, to try to shape me and instill goodness, with hopes of a better person spilling out the other end. No, I regret all the times that I put my hands on my hips (a behavior that is positively genetic, y'all), and self-righteously proclaimed these inherited "truths," lacking any sense of personal conviction...save for the conviction that I was awesome.

Oh, child...

I remember very vividly having a conversation with M before we were together. I think we were still in the getting-to-know-you phase (also known as the I-was-already-totally-smitten-and-trying-to-play-it-cool phase...which was a hot fail and fooled all of no one), and I was very, very young in my walk. (Of note: I had attended church while young and was even baptized circa junior high, but my path was a bit wayward, to say the least. I wasn't the worst kid, and I wasn't the best, but life was all about me and my precious wants/needs/hastohaves...which remained true through most of my 20s, bless all the things.) Apropos doesn't matter, I uttered that infamous phrase. "I know, God helps those who help themselves..."

Silence.

M, in his sweet and graceful nature, eventually offered a gentle correction that has been one of many moments that helped me leave behind a diet of milk and move onto spiritual meat.* (Figuratively, of course...I'm both lactose sensitive and vegetarian, so that'd be an interesting detour, indeed.) 

In the eyes of the World, worth is measured by status, accomplishment, and attaining, and striving is the name of the game. Christ, on the other hand, is radical in many, many ways, but one of my favorite characteristics of our motley savior is that He is a champion of the poor, the meek, the disinherited who have and seek nothing. To say that God helps those who help themselves is TOTALLY.MISSING.THE.POINT. ("Alright, I'm shouting. I'm shouting, I'm shouting, I'm shouting.") If we were even remotely capable of helping ourselves, we wouldn't have needed Christ to get up on that rugged cross and suffer a horrid death. If we can just pick ourselves up by our proverbial bootstraps, we don't need prayer. And what of those who couldn't possibly help themselves? The penniless, the uneducated, the heartbroken, the castoffs, and the lost? Well, He is nearest to them, y'all.** Not the maddeningly ambitious who work their fingers bloody, all the while looking behind them to ensure everyone KNOWS how much goodness they are all up in.

God helps ALL. The most effort we can put toward the matter is whatever strength it takes to lower ourselves to our knees, or to whisper the word, "Help." He doesn't bless those who are the most Christianest of all the Christians in Christiandom. It's not about earning a gold star from God. (I love the way that Max Lucado's story You Are Special drives this point on home.) Nor is he a genie, waiting to grant wishes. No. He is the Almighty God who loves, who knows and see souls, and who made a way--through Christ--for us to be saved and reconciled to Him. The helping has been done. Christ was the ransom paid. For you. 

How easy it is to believe that we must earn our faith, that we must do something to attain it. Rarely, this reflects a wrestling with our pride, but more often we're just so not used to being given something freely, out of pure, unconditional love, that we struggle to truly reach out and take it, accept it, and rest in it. Yet that, my friends, is why Our Lord is so radical. Scandalous, really. 

Would you be so bold as to drop your tools, and set aside your doings, to take His hand and walk with Him, in faith, and to truly know that IT IS FINISHED***?

*1 Corinthians 3:2
**Psalm 34:18
***John 19:30

Missing the View From My Own Front Porch

When M and I daydream about vacationing, our thoughts go quickly to visions of blankets, fireplaces, coffee, coffee, and more coffee, trees, and seclusion...the kind of place where you can see stars at night and actually hear crickets chirp. This lends itself nicely to celebrating birthdays and our wedding anniversary in the late fall/early winter months (our wedding date was chosen with this in mind...we obviously didn't get much say on our birth dates, but are not surprisingly both winter babies).

We recently found ourselves brainstorming locales to look into rental property outside of Texas. This is not to say we're rolling in the dough and relish the thought of another mortgage. But rather, we're thinking ahead and both tend to do better with a realistic goal in mind. It's easy enough to have lofty dreams of owning multiple homes, but the reality of things can quickly take the wind out of our sails if we get too far ahead of ourselves without a reality check. Looking at the soaring costs of cabins and homes in some of our favorite destinations--Redstone, Colorado Springs, Portland, Seattle, Redcrest--we admittedly found ourselves a little overwhelmed and discouraged.

Then, I got a healthy dose of perspective...

This morning, I set my alarm a little earlier than usual (and set the timer on our coffee maker as an extra incentive to actually get my butt out of bed...it worked) to spend some quiet time with The Lord. I headed out to our front porch in my robe, cup of coffee and daily devotional in hand, and sat for a while in silence. I need the silence that only morning can afford me (in absence of the discipline to shut down my busy brain after a busy day) to really listen. To hear the sweet song of birds, the gentle creak of my rocking chair, and to receive the whisper from My Heavenly Father. 

And then it came to me. That wisdom from On High. ' Look! You have what you seek. Now. Available to you, every day.' I looked around, took a deep breath, smiled, and felt my eyes well up with tears. He is right. Every morning, I have the ability to sit on my front porch and experience that sense of peace: fuzzy robe, coffee, and all. Sure, it's a choice to ignore the landscaping that needs attention and the fence that needs mending (neither of which are concerns when on vacation and staying at someone else's place...even if those needs are present there as well). But even years in, there is something about that space in front of our home that feels like a haven. Some of my favorite conversations have taken place on that porch, and we've shared that space with some of our favorite people. 

When I get down to it, we seek locales that make our hearts stir. For us, that generally comes in the form of lovely vistas of trees and mountains (bodies of water too, if we can swing that mix), great beverages, and cozy digs...amounting to our version of peace, really. However, I've been stirred many times while seeking His face just a few steps from our front door. With my eye focused on sites states away, I missed that.

It reminded me how often I make excuses for putting Christ on a shelf. I've developed a bad habit of waiting for just the right moment to spend time with Him, but like waiting for other aspects of our life to slow down before feeding into our relationships, we end up forsaking those we love and fail to honor or even represent where our hearts lie. What a sweet gift we've been given, and what a blessing to realize that a get-away is as close as our front porch. This little girl needed the reminder that He never leaves, and He doesn't need a majestic backdrop to show up. Indeed, any space can be made infinitely more beautiful with His presence. We need only show up.

Under Construction

...Oh, that applies to so much more than this little blog.

Dear readers, I feel a stirring in my soul and a fire ignited within that is so exciting, and I can only pray to identify and resist whatever crap is thrown my way to try to quench that fire, which is the Holy Spirit on a mission through me. That being said, I am confident of the direction that I want to pursue with my writing. I want to inspire, I want to edify, I want to challenge, and I want to share--vulnerably, with fear and trembling*--my journey of seeking, searching, and serving Christ. I am so tired of trying to find some other identity in my written voice, especially through this blog. I get discouraged by a lack of traffic, by my cluttered layout/design, and my sad attempts at photography a la my trusty iPhone. But that doesn't mean I want to throw myself into being a better blogger. I want to be a better vessel for God. Period. Life manifesto, new battle cry, zest and zeal du jour, or swinging for the fence (as our pastor calls it)...whatever you want to call it, I don't want to pursue anything else. Will this wane? Probably. But that's on me. Christ is unquenchable and boundless.

So, I don't know what this here blog will look like in a week, month, year, etc. But I pray that it looks different than it does, and than it has. Some elements, I want to retain: frankness, proper grammar sprinkled with a few made-up words, the community, etc. But others, I will leave for someone else to do...and much better than me.

Here we go...

*Philippians 2:12

Search me, O God, and know my heart...

"...Try me and know my anxious thoughts. See if there is any offensive way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting." {Psalm 139:23-24} 

I've been mediating on Psalm 139 today. This verse has always been a favorite of mine, especially in the context of the entirety of this sweet Psalm from David. But today, it hit me, what a bold prayer this is. God, Lord of all, invited in to the tempestuous depths of my heart. There's so much in there, so much I'd rather clean up, or just plain hide before inviting the precious Abba into this place. What would He find lurking in there? Would He love me less? Wish He hadn't gone there?

In these times of struggles, of pursuing that Still Small Voice until the silence is almost deafening with anticipation and desperation, The Word speaks, and reminds me that I know the answer to these questions. They're written in the very place He dares to go, where He has made a home...

What would He find? A broken human, desperately in need of a Living Saviour. 

Would He love me less? "You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me." {Psalm 139:5} No. He's got me. Always has, and always will. 

Wish He hadn't gone there? He already went there, straight up to that cross, so that He may embrace me, even in my sinful state, and love me as His own.

Comparison is the Thief of Joy...and It Sucks

I'm about to get ruhl real up in here, but I am struggling, y'all. I have struggled for a while now with comparison, in my glorious human state :: sarcasm ::, but it seems to ebb and flow quite a bit. At times (and quite often, really), I can look at some who is beautiful, doing well, seemingly has it all together, super fit...you name it, and feel genuinely stoked for what they have going on for themselves. "You go, Glen Coco!" But sometimes, a quick browse of Instagram, or catching up on blog posts, or just being in public with a restless heart, and I turn into the little black rain cloud that is liable to break down at any moment and would do well to shut it down for a few days and not share this crazy with another unsuspecting soul.

But did you catch the key there? A restless heart. When I let me heart stir for things of this world, and when I start to believe the lies that so easily creep into our heads (especially for women), it's not long before I'm lost and useless. And the latter is what is most unfortunate...but it's also the point.

When I serve no one but myself, I'm useless. My all day, every day is about me, how I'm feeling, what I'm going through, yadda yadda yadda. I'm not available to serve. I'm not free to share the gospel of Grace. How can I be? Anyone in their right mind would look at me in that state and be like, "Uh, I don't want what she's having." And rightly so!

To add to the ridiculousness, it's very possible that people may look at my life and think that I've got my stuff together. My sweet husband reminded me of this one day when I was expressing this sort of thing to him in confidence, and it sort of baffled me. But he's right. We never know who is paying attention or making certain assumptions, even assuming the best of us.

It's so easy to wallow in this state, and to feel like the answer is to cancel my Facebook, unfollow all blogs (except food blogs...well, maybe the perfectly styled food blogs get the ax, too), close my Instagram account, and wear blinders 24/7. (It's all very Handmaid's Tale.) But the issue is me. I don't go away in those "solutions." I am instead left to my own devices, to blame others for executing a perfectly cultivated life (meanwhile, I have no idea what their day-to-day really entails, or what the motivation is behind lovely photos and styled living), and to let circumstances of this world disable me. Where's the testimony in that?

Thankfully, God has shone his merciful light on the reality of this situation, and is assuring me daily not to worry about the lot of others. And slowly, I will catch on to His wisdom and cling to His outstretched hand. He has provided a beautiful life for us, but even if that disappears tomorrow and even my sad attempts at styling a shot of my morning coffee are never again a possibility, it's all good. Because He is everything. He measured time and the heavens, and named every star. He is mighty and sovereign, and nevertheless, He loves us, feeble humans who are so easily distracted and wooed from Him by shiny things and lies. I absolutely believe that we can be blessed with goodness here, from Him (and only from Him), but we cannot do it apart from Him. That's the ultimate litmus test. Without Him, everything is delicate beauty hiding dirt and despair. 

So take heart, friends, if you too sometimes feel those pangs of jealousy, comparison, and discontentment. Drop everything (including your phones and laptops), and look to He who is greater than all, and more beautiful than we can comprehend. Let Him be your eyes and show you what it means to be well.

His Love Never Fails

On February 14th (and leading up to it), we are flooded with messages containing the words "love," "affection," "care," "adoration," etc. And while I think most of us are wise enough these day to identify the marketing ploy at play, it can still be a rough day for many.

 

I'm not just talking about singles, either. I think about all the guys and gals who are in committed relationships, who in the throes of expectations and misguided needs end up feeling let down and damaged in the wake of the "day of love."

 

A wise counselor (who also happens to be my mother-in-love) has reminded me several times that love is not an emotion or a feeling. It is a choice. It's an act of obedience. Doesn't sound very sexy, does it? Put that on a Hallmark card, right? Haha.

 

But it is correct. Subject to our moods and circumstances, love could never last if we had the option to check out and cash in our chips when things got ugly. (And y'all, they always get ugly. Life...ain't pretty.) Love is a commitment, it is a choice and a discipline, one which will yield great fruit when poured out from a heart that is whole and complete in Christ. Not self-sufficient, not armed with every self-help book under the sun, not subject to the ebbs and flows of another's response to their love. We only need one book to guide the way, one example to follow.

 

via

You and I are ugly. We're a hot mess. We strive, we struggle, we sin, and we fail. But Christ loves you. And Christ loves me. Loves us so much, I can't even tell you. Loves us in spite of how we behave, loves us regardless of our performance, loves us so completely that He sacrificed the only perfect man who ever graced the Earth's surface. He did so out of love. Because He hates sin, because He hated to see us perish and toil, and because He is the loving Father who stood in the gap--and conquered it once and for all--for you. And for me.

 

There is so much to celebrate, indeed. The great news? It's not limited to a day. You don't need a red envelope or pink roses to participate. You don't have to be cleaned up and have it all together. And no one can ever, ever take it away. It's a promise you can stand on for the rest of your days, that you can renew yourself in daily--moment by moment, even--and you will be filled with love and joy that cannot be shaken, and is not fleeting.

 

If you haven't already, I encourage you to make this the day that you bow your head and seek Love: Love personified, Love that will never leave nor forsake you, Love that will bestow hope and faith, Love that will reveal true joy. Call out to Him by name: Christ. He is Love that will change everything. Everything.

 

Much love, friends-

{N}

Finding a New Normal this holiday season...

When Mom was sick, we often used the phrase "New Normal" to help ourselves adjust to the changes that were happening. Things were changing for good, and we knew that (whether that's a blessing or curse, hard to say, but I tend to lean toward the former), so we had to remind ourselves that clinging to things of the past would only bring frustration and heartache, and would make pushing forward feel insurmountable. (Visions of full blown, grown woman hissy fits convinced us that we best put on our big girl panties and deal.)

This time of year, it can be tough to feel peace and joy if you're in the midst of settling in to your own New Normal. What I've found interesting is that each year, each new season and ebb and flow, brings its own newness on which to stand. And while looking back can bring sadness, for what's lost or what once was, I remember that this life isn't meant to be static, it isn't mean to coddle or comfort us. If we bank on that, we will have a really, really difficult time feeling like anything more than a buoy that is constantly at odds with the changing tides. There is stability, and there is a foundation that is unchanging...like, from the beginning.

Wherever this season finds your heart, be encouraged that you're not alone. Amidst the twinkling lights and gilded decor, you may feel lonely, sad, anxious, or worse, numb. Those feelings are real, but they're from your flesh. As hard as it is to slow down, do it. (And I am speaking to myself as much as anyone on this.) Step away, quiet yourself, and seek the Lord. Bring yourself to Him, in exactly the condition you're in right this moment, and lay it down. Let Him hold you, hear His promises, and stand on those. Let that Truth be your Steadfast Normal.

Thank God for Road Blocks

Some friends of mine recently went through what initially seemed like an epic fail in customer service, which ultimately cost them an international trip and countless wasted planning hours. Within a day, circumstances were revealed that made it quite clear that they were not supposed to take that trip. A similar situation occurred a few months back, when friends and family had cleared their week ahead for a vacation, only to find that the uninterrupted time would actually be spent grieving the loss of a dear friend. These stories are quite miraculous when you really get into the details, but I don't want to break the confidence of those whose stories these are ultimately to tell.

What has been revealed is just how sovereign is God. I can hear that, and I can even say that, but to see it in action, to see the events play out to steer one's course, is yet another reminder of how alive and present is the Lord. We've all heard it said that God will not close a door without opening a window. I'll tell ya, He will barricade that door if need be to protect you. There are definitely times when He will watch you stray, allowing you to go off path. I've been the stubborn child far more times than I care to admit. He will also woo you back, and He will use that disobedience and whatever consequences arise from that period of distance to impart His unceasing grace and mercy, and to love on us far better than we deserve. But sometimes, in an act of love, He will literally stand in the way of whatever road you've mapped out.

Can you wrap your head around that? God, the Holiest of Holy, the Almighty Father, will impact events and people around you, just to reach you. In love, He will move and He will prevent. He answers prayers, and He lets wishes fade so that His dreams for us may be realized, which are far better than we can imagine (and infinitely more elegant).

We don't always in know what He's up to. In fact, we often don't. But seeing Him move the way that He has in these situations, I can't help but feel thankful for those moments when I feel like I'm up against a wall, when I can't understand the why and the how. Perhaps I'm simply nudging the point at which I end and He begins, standing before me and protecting my path.

The Word, Noms, and Best Curls Ever

It's been a while since I've written a proper post (i.e. reflective and many, many paragraphs in length), but there are many things happening at the moment (mostly good, some not so much), so I will instead share a few things that have been making me happy dance as of late. I don't believe that any delight is too small to relish!

Confession: I have never been a Bible-reader. For the longest time, it was as though I was peering at another language when I flipped through the pages of my chocolate leather-bound Bible. I just couldn't get it. For a gal who easily made heads or tales of complex language, psych and sociology theory, this was frustrating. But persistence, prayer, and God's providence delivered, and in seeking Him during the quiet mornings, He opened my eyes, softened my heart, and now I can't get enough of this incredible book! I'm currently working through Hebrews, Exodus and Romans (we're going through the latter as a church and with our Home Group). I pray that this zeal continues as I seek Him and grow in The Word.

M came home from Central Market the other day after a "quick run to grab milk"--which for either of us is usually followed by several heaping bags of random noms and the admission, "I don't know what happened!"--and shared what he thought were some cream puffs. Upon biting into it, he said, "Huh." Good, huh? "Well, it's not sweet. It's salty." Give it to meeeeeeee! Oh, how I wish I didn't know these existed. The cream-puff-doppelganger was actually a pao de queijo. These delicious Brazilian treats are essentially puffed cheese breads. Hummina? You betcha. Eat them. 

Ever since the lovely Signe over at Signeroo shared the secrets to her gorgeous locks in response to the super lame bloggy-crush email I sent, I have been contemplating a hair wand. This tool isn't exactly new, but it's kinda my thing to be way behind the times, so it's only natural I was a little late to get on board. M treated me to a wand as we were out running errands following an especially challenging week, and I haven't used my creaking, way-past-its-prime curling iron since. The wand gives the exact curls I've always wanted (wavy and sassy, versus Toddlers and Tiaras), and allows for versatile style. Big ups to you, Sig, for steering me in the direction of curly goodness!

The sheer volume of iced coffee that I've been consuming as of late is bananas (in the good way or the bad way, depending on how you look at it). We use the cold brew method a la our french press, which is silly easy (especially when your hubs is a gifted barista and has enough coffee contraptions to open a small cafe...how rad would that be??), and absolutely delicious. We've also been spending as much time as we can at Buon Giorno, our favorite local coffee shop, and their large iced coffees are always our first choice, whether we're joining friends or just spending some time in the deep leather seats with our books.

Stirred

In my estimation, a good morning and an early morning are opposing experiences. The best mornings generally involve sleeping until 10am, walking around the house for a while in my robe and slippers, hair amuck, and sipping cappuccino with M at our bistro table by the window. But this morning I had to be in the office by 6:30am for a presentation, and my opinion on the matter has been revised.

I used to regularly get in by 7am to start my workday, but as the work days dragged into the evening hours, it made more sense to start my day later, knowing I'd be on the grid until after hours anyway. Now, however, I realize that I've been missing the precious time before sunrise, the quiet stillness of a city before most have awaken.

{via}

It's God time. I don't know how else to put it. But that's what it is. Wrapped in peace and a sense of tender attentiveness to it all, my heart something fierce today. It's never about a meeting, or a deadline, or whatever we may think is driving our lives. It's Him. And I know He called to me this morning, to experience the dawn more often, to meet Him there for a cup of coffee and communion with the Most High God.

And I will take Him up on that invitation.

Where Feet May Fail

I feel like I am drowning, y'all. I won't belabor a full post with the details, but I'm feeling a bit run over and overwhelmed. I am keenly aware that we are not supposed to be comfortable in this life, that this isn't the Paradise we are promised. I have been so insanely blessed and experience so much joy, but sometimes the waves of disappointment and weariness feel like too much to bear.

Thankfully, I don't have to bear it. Not really. My God already did. And every day that I can get through, impossible as it may seem, I can bring glory to Him, knowing He will sustain me. I wish I could say that I experience such storms with grace, but that is hardly true. I'm a mess. I again see my sinful, selfish heart, and fall to my knees wondering how He can love me as much as He does. But He does, indeed. Having M by my side to wipe the tears and tenderly support my meltdowns is daily proof of such love.

via Pinterest

Tonight Hillsong United is in DFW, and we're so thankful to be going with a group of friends. I am sure there will be many, many tears (like, ugly cry), and I know my heart will be overflowing with joy. It's perfect timing. I shouldn't be surprised.

Resisting the Urge to Edit

I have once again found myself struggling with the desire to clean up my blog, so to speak. Every so often, an old post will pop up in the footer of a current post (which, admittedly, is intentional a la the "You might also like:" widget), and I'm reminded of perspectives and words spewed in the past. Sometimes I read those older posts and revisit memories or details I'd forgotten, thankful that I documented such snippets for safe keeping. Other times, I shake my head and feel sheepish for being so outspoken with clearly such a narrow understanding of...well, many things.

But time and time again, I've opted not to edit posts of days past. (Though let's be clear, I edit the pants off of any given post from a grammar perspective; but even in college, I was never very good at knowing when too much was too much, when fewer right words would be best. "Precision," my grad school writing prof called it.) It's tempting to rip out the pages of this virtual journal and rest easy, knowing that few people remember the mouthy, bitter gal who knew everything and sure would take the opportunity to tell you all about it. But relics of her are still very present in 2013 Natty. Call them habits, sins, genetic "gifts," whatever you will. Some could be chalked up to quirk or sass, but most are marks of a gal who is in need of refining and growth.

Nevertheless, it's a blessing to have those touch points to reflect on, to remember, and to understand with perspective and distance that I lacked at the time, that wasn't part of my walk in that season. I have complete faith that there is purpose daily throughout one's walk, and that God is tirelessly working behind the scenes. (I can't imagine how He doesn't tire of me, I tell ya.)

I can understand why many would make the choice to edit such relics: to protect someone, as a means of letting go, self-preservation, etc.. But for me, to grasp the transformation that has occured since I was saved (and that continues to this day), the posts of my former self hold value. Transgressions have been forgiven, attitudes pardoned, and sins absorbed. And thank the Lord for that! I believe it is an opportunity to glorify Him by letting the past continue to hang out there, sharing that as part of my journey, knowing that I am a different girl, and that in Him I am safe and justified.

Have any of you considered "editing" your posts after the fact? Please share your experiences. I'm interested to hear how/if y'all have wrestled through it.

Let Not Your Hearts Be Troubled

Let me tell you a little story...

Almost 4 years ago, I was brought to my knees by the news that my precious mother would not beat this round of cancer. To say that we were close would be an epic understatement. My mom was my everything. We had an admittedly co-dependent relationship, but I don't think either of us minded one bit. We had each other, and we were content in that. Marriage, much less family, were on my mind. Fast forward to Mother's Day 2010, when she went to be with the Lord. It was raining, and the whole family was near. I broke the news to my brother, and he hugged me, whispering, "God wept. God wept." 

This time of year always stings a little, I must admit. But it's tempered by a peace and a reflection on blessings that I can hardly wrap my head around. I don't think it's by accident that the man who is now my husband surfaced in my life (after a lapse in contact that was meaningful for us both) right around the time of her death. I moved forward with my plans to relocate for a short time to heal and get back on my feet, and to seek God in a quiet place of my own. I clung to Him, really. It was one of the best moves of faith I've ever taken, difficult as it was to leave. 

During that time, I learned about Church. Not the kind of Sunday performance of showing up after "the music part," sneaking into the back pew, slipping in and out of attention during the sermon, and being the first out the door to get back to "my time." I mean diving in, serving, doing life with people, and being challenged to abide in a God who is the antithesis of the world and its fleeting offerings. I also learned more about M, and, again, the timing was no accident.

Today, I am simultaneously celebrating 6 months of marriage to M, 4 years since we first met, and 3 years since losing my dear Ma. As difficult as it may be to explain, I know that I wouldn't be where I am now had it not been for that loss. I wouldn't be in a covenant marriage, living in a precious home that we own, spending weekends sipping cappuccino in our garden with my best friend, listening to music piping through the house as I carry out my chores in exactly the same way she always did. It's a peace beyond understanding, and that's exactly what He is. 

I don't understand why it happened exactly the way it did, and there are aspects of the days afterward (even up to today) that I struggle to be OK with. But I know He is faithful. I know that not a single tear is wasted, not a single heartache--even those experienced daily--are without compassion from our most high God. 

I share this story not to stir up any sort of pain or insist upon a perspective with which to process the circumstances we can scarcely wrap our heads around, but I do want to offer my testimony as a promise that He is good. He will take care of you in ways that will illuminate His intimate knowledge of your heart, your desires, and your true needs. It's a walk of faith every day, particularly when times are tough, and it's an act of grace that at that point, we can hit our knees, come to the end of ourselves, and let Him carry it. Trust me: He'll handle it far better than you can, and you will be blessed in the wake.

Overwhelmed and Under-grateful

Several times in the last few weeks, I've felt positively buried. In some ways, I think having such incredibly sweet, peaceful seasons so often makes me all the more ill-equipped to handle challenges or hardships that come my way. It's a rollercoaster...but only because I am so at the whim of my emotions and circumstance.

For example, I have struggled to keep it together (and failed several times) in light of the fact that my beloved car was totaled because of someone else's mistake; we are knee-deep in the realities of home ownership as our yard and gardens are quickly taken over by weeds, and our HVAC system has about run its course; work gets busier week by week, and as the pressure mounts, there doesn't seem to be an end to the stress; I've gained more weight that I care to admit and have allowed myself to be lazy for far too many days; and it's tax season.

There are other things, but you get the gist. But what it comes down to is the fact that I am so, so spoiled. I am self-righteously upset when my plants don't pan out, when an unexpected expense falls on our plates, or when I'm not getting the credit I deserve.

And it hits me: epic fail, dummy. It's really easy to pour out blessings and live graciously when all is going well. But when it's a hot mess, that's when our true character is revealed. I'm a control freak, y'all. And it's not cool. How can I profess that I live in faith and serve the one true God when I am that little girl spinning around on the ground in the middle of the toy store because things aren't going my way? (Oh, you know what I'm talking about...)

This is me growing, y'all. I'm thankful to recognize the sheer ridiculousness of my feeling overwhelmed...and I do. My soul is saved. I am redeemed. Really...taxes? Weeds? A chubby butt?! These things matter not in a life lived saved by grace through faith. 

Little Did I Know...

Reflecting on my 30th birthday last year, little did I know of the adventures and blessings that lay ahead in the year to come...



via


Never would I have imagined that by today--a year later and another year older (Hello there, 31...so nice to see you)--I would be married to my best friend, a wonderful Godly man. Never would I have imagined that I'd be living in a home, a small corner of the universe of our very own. Nor that I would have traveled to one of those tropical locations and spent days on end looking at the ocean and drinking frilly cocktails. Or that I'd finally get to see most of the people I love all in one place, watching families and friends intertwine from all different facets of my life.

To say it's been an amazing year would be an understatement. I still have much to experience, God willing, and so much to learn. I'm just incredibly thankful to find myself celebrating another year of life, healthy and so very loved, and always growing closer to Christ. Praying for more of Him and less of me in the coming years, and hoping I can pour out some of the love and blessings that have absolutely flooded my 31 years.

Cheers to another year, another day, another moment. Every one is precious and full of promise...

Online Wedding Invitations & A Bridal Meltdown

I was a bit nervous about designing and ordering budget-savvy wedding invitations online, but, alas, our pocketbook did not allow for a custom Crane suite with letterpress and gold leafing. (Not to mention, I may be a stationary snob, but paper is paper.) And physically getting the invitations has been quite stressful, between agonizing over spacing and periods to approve the proofs (formal invitation grammar is something else, yo), ordering far too close to when I wanted them sent out (before Labor Day...d'oh), and chasing down UPS to collect the shipment (I might have cried on the phone to 3 different UPS representatives...). But, finally, we got them home shortly after 9pm last night.

A long-coming meltdown commenced the second I saw M's sweet face. I so needed him to hold me as I cried, knowing that I had totally turn into one of those brides-to-be. But I didn't care. I was overwhelmed, weary, and feeling very, very aware of the Lord shaping me in this season. For a Type A gal, planning a wedding is a nightmare in the making, disguised as a dream come true. I had visions of organized notebooks and swatches, regularly-scheduled email updates to my vendors and wedding party, and lots of champagne in the mix. Y'all....no.

I'll spare y'all the details as I sincerely don't want to come off as complaining about the gift of planning a wedding to the man I love. But I will say that the Lord is faithful, and will absolutely allow some dark moments to bring us back to a place of perspective. Sometimes that means crying in public at a UPS warehouse guard shack. In a Hanes vee-neck and PJ shorts, sans makeup. (Consider myself chickity checked.) I am so thankful for such a loving God.

After tears were dried and Excedrin downed, M brought in our parcel and we opened the invites together. Some moments are so worth the tears. In fact, many moments are worth the tears. God ministers to us so much in times of struggle and weariness, and last night was a precious example of that.

I won't be sharing photos of the invites just yet, but I have to give a major shout out to the lovely folks at eInvite.com. I highly, highly recommend!

And for those of you also in a state of stress and weariness (I know many of you are actually in full swing wedding-planning mode, as well), don't hesitate to embrace the tears and turn to Him. You can't do this all on your own. Life, that is. And, thankfully, you don't have to.

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."

{Matthew 11:28}

Home Group

Though I grew up attending church (and that's sadly pretty much all I did...show up, warm body status), I had little to no experience participating in Bible studies or home groups until the last year or so. I joined a pilot city group at my church in Austin*, which was a fantastic foray into home groups, but shortly after moved back to DFW and found myself in search of another community.

As we got to know each other, M had shared many stories of his beloved home group, and I was excited to see for myself what these sweet folks were like. But I'm not gonna lie, I was also nervous as heck! As a recent convert to true intimacy in relationships (having spent many years keeping most people at arm's length), the idea of sharing life in a real way with these loving, seemingly angelic friends scared the bejeezus out of me. I was so afraid I'd say too much, or not say enough, or use a "Christian word" in the wrong context, or accidentally let out a swear word. I brainstormed several "acceptable" stories and experiences that I'd be willing to share, and shelved the rest. (Well, more like wrapped up, duct taped, shoved in a concrete vault and buried deep the rest, never to be found or revealed.)

Yeah, that whole strategy went riiiight out the window. Not because my fellow home groupers pried, nor did an ice breaker activity take an ugly turn. But rather I saw beautiful, broken people, sharing their stories, revealing their hurt, pain and sin, and in response the group poured out love, encouragement and thanks. I wanted to reciprocate, to honor these souls, and to honor our Father. I find it so amazing, time and time again, how much we can learn about our own condition by sharing struggles with others; in addition to making us feel less alone, we are given perspective to consider the plight of others, and to rejoice together in the Lord's forgiveness, grace and redemption.

Being part of a women's discipleship group has been so illuminating in this sense, as well, and I am finally starting to understand the meaning of Church. Not a building, not an activity to check off your Must-Do list, but a gathering of brothers and sisters, seeking Christ and sharing life. I still struggle with transparence and fearing judgement, and these groups are not comprised of perfect people, blissfully happy 24/7, skipping to and fro singing praise songs. But that is why we need Him.

I know that some of y'all don't feel comfortable discussing your faith in the blog realm, but please don't hesitate to reach out (via comment, Twitter, email, whatever) and let me know how I can be praying for you. Especially if you haven't found a church community and/or don't even know where to start, I'd be honored to join you in prayer for that guidance, or whatever it is you find yourself struggling with at the moment.

*If you're looking for a community in Austin, TX, I encourage you to check out Austin City Life.

Things I'm Afraid to Tell You

I'm pretty jazzed about this movement sweeping the blogosphere. There have been several times that I've debated wiping out my entire blogroll and/or taking a break from blogging all together because I can feel the pressure that the oh-so-perfect blog world can bring (if you let it, of course). The pretty and shiny can turn scary and overwhelming real fast. But in a refreshing turn of events, many lovely ladies have candidly fessed up to a few "uglies" in their lives. Not for assurance, not for attention, but to highlight the realities of who we are outside of a carefully cultivated e-world. I hope y'all find it as beautiful as I to see sweet sisters offering a dose of raw insight.

I'm insanely cheap. I will ponder a $30 purchase for weeks to months. Nevermind that I've meanwhile spent that cash in smaller increments on food, with nothing to show for it but a couple of food babies. I can (and often do) talk myself out of non-essentials, and balk at the idea of spending a chunk of money on anything other than food. Pretty sure that speaks volumes about something, but I don't want to go there just yet.

I'm afraid I'll be a bad mom. I get irritated and impatient over the stupidest things. Like slow drivers. Or humidity. Or my giant purse getting stuck on my seatbelt as I try to get out of the car, causing me to honk the horn, spill half the crap out of my epic bag, and sustain yet another bruise to my shin in the process. Parenting is no joke and will test every aspect of who you are. I worry that I'll be a yeller, always short and flustered, leaving my children wishing for a sweet, graceful mother who overlooks the small stuff and knows when to leverage the outside voice.

I don't always make up my bed. This may seem silly, but it's the one messy indulgence I allow myself. I don't like it, honestly. I enjoy coming home to a pristine apartment, but I generally over-snooze as it is, and the minute and a half it takes to straighten up the sheets is decidedly better spent taking a quick inventory of the fridge and freezer to see if something that could pass for breakfast has magically appeared.

I think sharing my faith costs me some readers. This applies to more than just blogging, but I sometimes struggle with knowing that some people avoid or ignore me because of my love for Christ. I never imaged I'd be someone who speaks so openly and passionately about my walk with the Lord, but what can I say? He lit me up. And I'm so thankful for it! But I'm quite insecure and like being liked, so it takes a lot of faith and prayer to make it through those valleys. Luckily, I know I'm never truly alone.

I bite my cuticles. It's gross, y'all. I'm sure it's a nervous thing, but I've done it as long as I can remember. I like having nice nails and insist on doing my own manicures, but I can't seem to keep my polished digits out of my mouth. Ugh. I even do it in board meetings. Really?

I'd say that I hope some of y'all can relate, but I also don't want to wish some of these things on my readers. Instead, I will thank you in advance for your grace and for allowing me to share.