I’ve always been drawn to excitement, adventure, newness, importance. I want to be a part of big things, and make big, beautiful waves with my little life. In Sunday School I was always taught that God had a big plan for my life. And so my little heart dreamed real big, like being the next mother Theresa, or carrying Jesus in my womb, or being a movie star. But what I didn’t quite understand is that God’s big plans often look pretty small and insignificant to us.
We search and search for that big plan for our lives we’ve heard so much about. But in reality, we’re already living it. Many of us won’t do a “big thing”. We won’t cure cancer, or become a well-known vlogger, or be the chef at Buckingham Palace. And the truth is, If we end up in any of those places, chances are that isn’t the “big thing” in our lives anyway. Because the little things, those are really the big things.
As I sit here staring into the eyes of my rambunctious little toddler, I’m wondering about the big things. Last week I turned down the opportunity to audition for a play I desperately wanted to be a part of. But the timing felt wrong, so I didn’t. And that felt like a much bigger “thing” a much more fulfilling purpose then choosing to be home to put my baby to bed every night. But I know, those little things matter. The cuddles, the diaper changes, the many “I love you’s”, the hand holding while I’m trying to drive. Those are really big things.
Sometimes people tell me I should write a book. In fact, I have some beautiful people in my life that believe in my big dreams more than I do. But the truth is, I may write a book, I may not. I may become a known author like my dad, I may not. But I’m learning not to care so much about the outcome, the goal itself. The meat of our lives, the shaping of who we are, it’s all about the journey. The good the bad, it all somehow means something.
Yesterday I had three panic attacks. The day felt like a total flop. Yes, I got some things done, but how am I making any kind of difference in anyone’s life, including my own, if I can’t even get through an allergist appointment without sweating through my sweater. But every panic attack is teaching me. It’s teaching me that I can mom even through really hard moments of anxiety. It’s teaching me to cling to Jesus because my moments feel out of control and scary. And it’s teaching me to slow down, to care for myself, to ask for help, to breathe deep. Important lessons that should not be ignored.
If you know me at all you know that I love David. David from the Bible that is. I love his story. Lowly shepherd boy, doing the dirty work. How boring to be a shepherd? How stressful to keep the wolves away from the sheep? How chaotic to herd all those fluffy little things exactly where he needed them to go. But guys, David became a king, and I’m sure you can guess how all of those mundane tasks translated into him ruling a nation. And yes, he might have kind of messed up a bit by having a dude killed so he could sleep with his wife. But the point is, he was just a human guy, being a shepherd, and God used that.
Okay, but we probably won’t end up ruling a nation or anything right? So what if we’re just a shepherd our entire life and it doesn’t amount to anything bigger? It always amounts to something bigger, we might just not always see the bigger or be acknowledged for it. Our lives have a ripple effect, causing shifts we know nothing about.
A few weeks ago our pastor spoke a bit about Mother Theresa. Now there’s someone who did something great, right? We can all see it, and secretly, we all want to live a life with that much purpose. But what struck me was what he said about her mother. She wasn’t extraordinary to the human eye, but she always welcomed people into her home. She told her daughter from a young age “never eat a mouthful without first sharing it with others”. That example she set for her daughter changed the world.
The little things matter, they really do. Because in the end, they really are the big things. So in the mundane day to day when it all feels like a jumbled mess, or when you’ve lapsed back into unhealthy coping skills, remember that it’s all important. It’s all about the journey. Maybe doing “nothing” is everything.
It’s okay to “just” be a mom.
/in Identity, MotherhoodIt’s okay to “just” be a mom.
Light filters through the window of the playroom, casting a joyous glow on the toys littering the floor. I am here in the midst of them, legs crossed, protecting my coffee in between them like a precious gem (which in fact it is). I love my life…Don’t I?
A screech erupts behind me as my newest walker toddles towards his big sister holding her favorite Barbie. I watch the scene unfold for a bit before taking the doll out of his chubby hands. This fulfills me…Right?
I take another sip of my coffee and plan the day out in my head. Nap, snack, walk. Okay, but how am I going to get us all to dinner? Movies it is. Again. This is my dream…Isn’t it?
A few minutes pass and I absentmindedly scroll through my news feed, a habit I have picked up whenever my hands are idle. Everyone looks so productive. I can’t pass a scroll without seeing at least one #momboss hashtag. These women are rocking it. I immediately feel inferior, I need to do more- be more. Why haven’t I finished the sample chapter for my book proposal? Why is my brain constantly in a fog? How do I still not know how to template my newsletters? For the love of God can I please just get a blog post out already.
But then I stop. I don’t HAVE to do anything. It’s okay for me to “just” be a mom. God knows theres enough going on over here to keep me at my brink for years to come. I can pick and choose in each and every moment whether or not I want to add something to my plate. If I don’t want to increase my followers, or write my book, or be a health coach, or save the world, I don’t have to.
It’s okay to “just” be a mom and for that to be enough. Because it is. And maybe stay-at-home-moms are still lacking the bad-ass title that they are due from the world. But I can claim it anyway. I can claim my own enough-ness, know my own needs, know my own worth.
If I want to do more, then I can. But I don’t HAVE to. I really don’t.
It’s okay to “just” be a mom.
A Minute to Meditate
/in FaithI have a minute. One I could fill with all sorts of things. There is laundry to be done, a book to be written, endless organizing and list making to satisfy the OCD in me. But my soul can’t take it anymore. I need a minute.
Sometimes we just don’t want to sit in our thoughts. We don’t want to ponder the deep questions or access the pain. But we can honor ourselves by going there.
I need a minute to meditate.
I am pondering who God is in the midst of suffering, where God is in the midst of suffering. And why suffering?
I’m not really looking for answers. I am just sitting with the questions, the uncertainty, the anger, the disappointment with God.
I just need a minute to meditate.
We don’t have to have it all right. I don’t think it’s about the answers. It’s about the questions, the exploring. The faith that God will remain no matter what I am wrestling.
I just need a minute to meditate.
Prioritizing mental health in the midst of this pandemic.
/in Personal, UncategorizedI find myself staring off into space, unable to open my mouth to answer a simple question. I feel frozen in melancholy, stuck in a way I haven’t felt in years. As the weeks turn to months, one thing is very clear: this pandemic has been so very hard on us mentally. Not just inconvenient, but actually dangerous to mental health. Friends of mine who have never struggled with feelings of anxiety, depression, panic are feeling these things for the first time and finding it hard to know where to turn to get help. And still those of us who have known this journey for many years may be be finding ourselves in just the pit we dug ourselves out of many years ago.
We’re faced with a real predicament: protect the physical health of ourselves and others and risk a real mental breakdown or find the safest ways possible to meet our emotional needs while trying to ignore the judgement that might come from those who might assume we are not taking this pandemic seriously. Because the truth is we absolutely are, but we are not willing to die for it.
A friend of mine shared with me in confidence that she “broke down and took her kids to her mother-in-laws”. Her husband is working long hours and she (struggling with anxiety, OCD, and panic attacks) felt she had reached her limit. She admitted that she felt guilty for doing so. She was worried about the ways in which that choice might affect the physical health of those closest to her. She was between a rock and a hard place, trying to choose physical health over mental health in a situation where both could be dire.
Another friend of mine is bipolar, a wonderful mom of two little ones. She makes an effort everyday to keep herself grounded so that doesn’t slide into the hole of depression she knows so well. Sometimes it keeps her down for months, where she’s not even able to text those closest to her. But in the midst of this pandemic, she feels like she’s struggling. Really really struggling. Her best coping skill is going to the beach, sitting by the waves, breathing deep. She feels guilty about considering going to the beach for the afternoon. “How can I risk it?” She asks me. “How can you not?” I say.
Mental health is not secondary to physical health. We can do both. And maybe sometimes we have to risk it a bit with one to save ourselves from the other. For instance, how many of us are severely afraid of needles and yet we would get the blood drawn for the sake of our physical health? And how many of us are pushing ourselves to our limit every day mentally in order to do our part in flattening the curve of this virus.
Am I suggesting we all go dance in the streets and hug all of our neighbors in the midst of a pandemic for the sake of our mental health? Absolutely not. But if you are struggling, really struggling, and you know you have reached your limit, please remember that your mental health is not something to take lightly. Call your mental health professional or someone you trust for guidance in how to best meet your emotional need while adhering to the stay at home order to the best of your ability.
And stay safe. Physically. And mentally.
Clinging to Thankfulness
/in UncategorizedClinging. Literally. Because thankfulness doesn’t come all that naturally to me. My battle with anxiety has left me fearful and constantly alert to anything that will rock my world. This constant state of heightened senses leaves very little room for a thankful heart. And yet I am so very thankful for so much. I just forget it in the midst of the things that set my equilibrium off balance and send my panic into overdrive.
So here I sit on a Rainy Monday, burdened by stress and yet clinging to thankfulness. My gratitude will prevail today. It will. For just one small moment I will not let my brain take that away from me. So here, right now, are 25 things I am thankful for.
1. The baby nestled into my arms
2. A spirited little toddler who keeps me laughing
3. A life partner who gives me grace and sacrifices his own sleep for mine.
4. A warm home
5. Our new home
6. Preschool
7. Coffee
8. Warm showers
9. Comfy clothes
10. A car
11. Warm meals
12. Parents and in-laws who will bend over backwards to love and support us.
13. Friends who check in on me and pray over me.
14. The ability to take vacations
15. Health
16. Access to health care (physical and mental)
17. Clean living conditions
18. Books
19. Parents who paved the way for beautiful deconstruction/reconstruction of my faith
20. An education
21. Netflix
22. Sleep
23. A baby who takes a bottle
24. The opportunity to learn and grow
25. Grace
When it feels like God screwed you over.
/in Faith, IdentityI’ve never been able to compartmentalize my feelings to one situation. If someone has wronged me it spills over into our entire relationship until I have properly dealt with it. But until I do, it affects everything. I don’t love that about myself, but I know it’s a part of who I am. It goes hand in hand with being empathetic and sensitive, always asking deep questions and needing the answers.
I know I need God. My head believes in a higher power that looks out for us in ways we can’t comprehend. I believe that there is good in every situation and that angels surround us, stroking our hair when we cry and as the world falls apart around us. But the God in my head and the one In my heart just aren’t the same.
I came to this conclusion a few weeks ago with the help of my therapist. I have been feeling distant from God, craving lots of space from the evangelical normalcies I had grown up with my whole life. I can’t connect to many of the things that the modern church stands for, and yet there’s so much I love as well. I’ve realized that there’s a divine being that I know that I need, one I’ve been searching for my whole life, and then there is the God I’ve been hearing about my whole life. And the two are not the same.
As I grow and gain life experience, I am not willing to pretend anymore. I will not accept answers that explain away doubt and fear. I will not settle for another bible verse to stick into every situation. I want way more than that.
But in order to get there, I know I have baggage to resolve with the God of my heart. My past is riddled with painful moments where I don’t believe with my heart God was present. Everything I have learned might tell me that of course, He was. But I’m not there. I’m not feeling it. I need to work through the junk standing in my way so that I can cling to the feet of Jesus once again and fully believe that He is with me as has been with me this whole time.
Denying that I feel this way won’t help me. Walking through life submitting to the beliefs of others won’t free me. This is my journey to a deeper relationship with God. A deeper knowledge of this higher power who I am sure is much less like the God of the modern church than many of us think.
Are you there? Are you desiring God but unable to fit yourself into the box He’s been put in? Do you need to know it’s okay to rearrange every piece of your faith? Tear it all down people, rebuild brick by brick. Take the time to figure out who God is. Learn to separate that from cultural Christianity and find freedom in the beauty of both. You are not alone. So many of us are doing it. A journey to die to our own selves, and to really be more like Jesus-not who others say He is, but who He actually is.
Happy Friday dear friends!
Creating is important.
/in Identity, PersonalI’ve been thinking a lot recently about the importance of creating and giving ourselves room to create.
I just happen to be an incredibly creative person (although I would argue we all are creators…maybe that’s for another post). From the time I wake up to the time I fall asleep, I am constantly dreaming up projects and making creative touches to everything around me. I have come to really love that about myself and yet, it hasn’t always been that way.
Creative types often get a bad rap. We’re too sensitive and moody, or spend too much effort “wasting” our time on a craft that will “make us no money”. Many of my actor friends have been told too many times that they are an “aspiring actor” just because they are not meeting society’s standards of success.
Additionally, I have often been confused by my creativity as it spans many crafts and is not something I can whittle down to just one thing. I am a writer, an actor, a decorator, a fashionista, a cook, a painter, a furniture refinisher, a carpenter, and the list goes on and on. I always felt some sort of pressure to pick just one. What was going to be my “calling”, my “career”, the thing that people would remember me by.
But over the past few years, I have come to see my creativity as limitless. I can do anything that I want! And if I do something for a while and take a break and try something else-hooray for me!
Before Lilah was born I was immersed in theatre, and then after she was born I was writing occasionally and redecorating (aka moving furniture and decor around my house constantly). Now writing seems to be taking center stage, as well as a dance class I will be taking this fall. Who knows what is next! The options are limitless. I can be anything I want to be at any time and give it as much or as little attention as I wish.
Creating is freeing. It is worship to our creator who gave us the ability to do these things. It is recognizing who we are and saying to ourselves, “I will live in alignment with my soul”.
On this rainy day, I am burrowed under the covers as I listen to my baby girl, not nap. I am dreaming up new projects and reflecting on old ones. I am giving myself permission to be exactly the kind of creator I am in this moment. Give yourself permission to do the same.
When Doing Nothing is Everything
/in Faith, IdentityI’ve always been drawn to excitement, adventure, newness, importance. I want to be a part of big things, and make big, beautiful waves with my little life. In Sunday School I was always taught that God had a big plan for my life. And so my little heart dreamed real big, like being the next mother Theresa, or carrying Jesus in my womb, or being a movie star. But what I didn’t quite understand is that God’s big plans often look pretty small and insignificant to us.
We search and search for that big plan for our lives we’ve heard so much about. But in reality, we’re already living it. Many of us won’t do a “big thing”. We won’t cure cancer, or become a well-known vlogger, or be the chef at Buckingham Palace. And the truth is, If we end up in any of those places, chances are that isn’t the “big thing” in our lives anyway. Because the little things, those are really the big things.
As I sit here staring into the eyes of my rambunctious little toddler, I’m wondering about the big things. Last week I turned down the opportunity to audition for a play I desperately wanted to be a part of. But the timing felt wrong, so I didn’t. And that felt like a much bigger “thing” a much more fulfilling purpose then choosing to be home to put my baby to bed every night. But I know, those little things matter. The cuddles, the diaper changes, the many “I love you’s”, the hand holding while I’m trying to drive. Those are really big things.
Sometimes people tell me I should write a book. In fact, I have some beautiful people in my life that believe in my big dreams more than I do. But the truth is, I may write a book, I may not. I may become a known author like my dad, I may not. But I’m learning not to care so much about the outcome, the goal itself. The meat of our lives, the shaping of who we are, it’s all about the journey. The good the bad, it all somehow means something.
Yesterday I had three panic attacks. The day felt like a total flop. Yes, I got some things done, but how am I making any kind of difference in anyone’s life, including my own, if I can’t even get through an allergist appointment without sweating through my sweater. But every panic attack is teaching me. It’s teaching me that I can mom even through really hard moments of anxiety. It’s teaching me to cling to Jesus because my moments feel out of control and scary. And it’s teaching me to slow down, to care for myself, to ask for help, to breathe deep. Important lessons that should not be ignored.
If you know me at all you know that I love David. David from the Bible that is. I love his story. Lowly shepherd boy, doing the dirty work. How boring to be a shepherd? How stressful to keep the wolves away from the sheep? How chaotic to herd all those fluffy little things exactly where he needed them to go. But guys, David became a king, and I’m sure you can guess how all of those mundane tasks translated into him ruling a nation. And yes, he might have kind of messed up a bit by having a dude killed so he could sleep with his wife. But the point is, he was just a human guy, being a shepherd, and God used that.
Okay, but we probably won’t end up ruling a nation or anything right? So what if we’re just a shepherd our entire life and it doesn’t amount to anything bigger? It always amounts to something bigger, we might just not always see the bigger or be acknowledged for it. Our lives have a ripple effect, causing shifts we know nothing about.
A few weeks ago our pastor spoke a bit about Mother Theresa. Now there’s someone who did something great, right? We can all see it, and secretly, we all want to live a life with that much purpose. But what struck me was what he said about her mother. She wasn’t extraordinary to the human eye, but she always welcomed people into her home. She told her daughter from a young age “never eat a mouthful without first sharing it with others”. That example she set for her daughter changed the world.
The little things matter, they really do. Because in the end, they really are the big things. So in the mundane day to day when it all feels like a jumbled mess, or when you’ve lapsed back into unhealthy coping skills, remember that it’s all important. It’s all about the journey. Maybe doing “nothing” is everything.
Even if.
/in Faith, Fear, HopeI’ve always known I had a choice. I can live in constant fear of the worst happening, or surrender to the fact that I have no control.
This is the lesson that I have been learning my whole life in various ways, but parenthood has really slapped the icing on the cake. Because now there’s this teeny tiny person who relies on me for everything and yet I ultimately have very little control over her life. Yes I make choices that affect her on the day to day, but in the grand scheme of things, her life is out of my hands.
It happened on day one. I had already been wrestling with how my relationship with God might navigate parenthood. Pregnancy had brought with it more anxieties then I had expected. But when Lilah was born she was taken to the NICU. This was it, the moment of deciding what kind of parent I was going to be. Eric and just looked at each other and I said, “I guess this is parenting. We don’t have control of this.” And we didn’t. She only spent five hours in the NICU and ended up being okay, but at the time, we had no idea what was happening. I wasn’t happy about it, but I knew that if I was going to survive the rest of my life without fully breaking down mentally, then I was going to have to learn to take things as they come.
That’s always been quite hard for me. I come from a long line of senseless worriers and so I come about it honestly, and have lived most of my life walking in the ever pacing footsteps of my anxious relatives. But I’ve always wanted it to be different. Deep down I know that the only way to live a life free of deep worry is to open my hands and say “God, even if, you are with me”. Ugh but that is hard. Because how can God really be with us if the worst is happening all around us. If God is good, and just, and loving, then why is there so much pain and suffering? Well I don’t claim to be the theologian in the family but I can tell you that on my best days I believe God is all those things despite the horrors that may unfold around us. I believe that there is more to the story than we will understand. I believe that God mourns with us. But on my darker days, I can’t imagine how any of that make sense. And that’s okay too. Wrestling with these things is crucial, I believe.
But this is what I know without a shadow of a doubt. That even if, for reasons we may never understand, God does not heal your loved one, or prevent that hurricane, or stop that shooting, he is there in it all. When we hear stories of joy and goodness coming out of pain, that is Jesus. That friend who lost a loved one, but feels a strange sense of peace, that is Jesus. It may not always make sense, but we see it, right? We can feel it.
While the questions still remain, I can offer this: Even if, God sees you and is holding you and loves. If you don’t believe it that’s okay, I don’t always believe it either. But I do cling to it, because I’ve experienced it and seen it and choose to believe that it is true.
While I Sit Here.
/in Identity, PersonalI am pinned under a sleeping infant. His steady breathing matching my own. He fell asleep breastfeeding and has been this way ever since: in peaceful slumber.
I love when he does this. I love the way his eyes flutter and his lips pout into a fishy face as he sleeps. I love the smell of his bald little head and the warmth of his teeny body against mine. These moments of stillness are so so needed in the chaos of life these days.
And yet there’s a restlessness inside of me. A constant staring at dishes in the sink or dirty clothes on the floor. The lists I make during nap times are endless. Somehow it always feels as though there is something to do, somewhere to be. It feels like (dare I say it) the sitting and waiting is keeping me from the things I actually need to do.
Ugh I hate that I put that out there. It makes me shudder to admit. But is that not true for us in so many moments of our lives? In the sitting and the stillness is where the beauty and purpose is happening, but we look on to all the “important” things that must be done. Oh how much we miss. Oh how much stress we create with the constant to do lists, the never ending goal making.
As I think toward the New Year I cringe a bit. The idea of “starting over” and resolutions has never sat well with me. I need freedom and stillness, not more to achieve and be enslaved to. And that may not be true for you and bravo for you knowing your truth! But that is mine. I find everything I need in the stillness. That’s where I have always found myself, my God, peace. Why then is the pull towards the chaos so strong?
Tonight I snuggle Beau’s body a little bit closer. Remind me of what I need little one. Pull me back to the stillness when everything around me screams to do more. Together we will rest in these moments, we will cling to them. The sweet sweet stillness that changes everything.
Just because it’s church doesn’t mean you have to say yes.
/in Faith, IdentityI should be napping. My little lulu is and I need to catch up on some sleep. And yet my mind keeps turning and turning as I process so many similar conversations I’ve had this year. Conversations with dear friends and acquaintances, those who are getting so overwhelmed and caught up in the “task list” of their faith.
It is so hard. We are human. We are always looking for a formula, a way to “do more for Jesus”. I cringe. It saddens me that we fall into that trap so often.
It is specifically hard in a church setting. How can you say no to serving in church? Yikes! So many of us take on a million different roles that we can barely keep up with, not wanting to say it’s too much, because if Jesus died on the cross I can serve goldfish to preschoolers, right?
Okay. Let’s take a step back. Deep breath.
Remember, just you being, breathing, showing up-that is ENOUGH.
I took a break from serving at church this year. My gut was telling me stop-you need a break from everything. I needed to recuperate from my own longstanding emotional battles and some big life transitions. Not that we can’t serve in our weaknesses, but that’s not always the right choice. So often we assume that doing something “Christian-y” must be what’s right for us. But do you know yourself? Are you listening to yourself? Because I believe that our gut instincts, the things we know we should do but are afraid to, those are ways that God speaks to us.
Recently I started serving again at our church in a capacity that felt congruent with my own heart, soul, emotional health. And guys, I am NOT stressed about it.
When we make decisions based on the needs of others but ALSO our own needs, amazing things happen. We are alert and happy and successful, all because we listened to ourselves and thus listened to what Jesus is trying to tell us about our own needs.
So to my friends who are struggling with feeling burnt out in service, overwhelmed with the tasks they’ve signed up for week after week in an effort to “further the kingdom”, let me ask you this: could you do more in one area if you let go of all the others? Could you give fully of yourself once a month instead of spreading yourself so thin over the course of four weeks a month? Are you taking care of your own emotional health? That is so important.
Take a few minutes and google verses about Jesus resting. He wasn’t constantly doing big things. He was often resting up so that he could give more at one time.
Deep breaths, let go of what you need to, you are serving Jesus by learning to know yourself. Knowing yourself and honoring yourself honors him and his plan for your life.
Amen.