Just because it’s church doesn’t mean you have to say yes.

/in ,

I 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.

Just because it’s church doesn’t mean you have to say yes.

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.

A letter for the depressed days.

/in , , ,

DISCLAIMER: I am okay. I am very aware of myself and my feelings and have support systems upon support systems to help me navigate hard days. I know when to ask for help from my people. Thank you for your concern, but this is just me being vulnerable.

Anxiety is more what I am used to. Constantly repeating things in my head, wondering if I am offending anyone, doing enough, getting it all done. And so when depression seeps in, it terrifies me deep to my core. I am not quite sure how to navigate it, what to do with those incessant and gloomy thoughts, the fatigue, the all around effort it takes to enjoy what is around me. My mind tries to beat myself into submission, “get over it”, “your life is great-what are you sad about”, “you will never make it through this, you’re weak”. And with motherhood zapping me of energy and stealing my precious, much needed sleep, the voices are stronger, deeper, rooted in all the things I ever hated about myself.

This morning, as the rain beats down on our roof, I have felt this pull to bring these things into the light. To challenge all of the thoughts that grip me in these moments and to take control of them, even if just for a moment. Hear me when I say, I do not believe that depression is a mind game that you can just get over. I believe in medication to help battle chemical imbalances out of our control. Also, if you have access to therapy, do it. If you do not-message me. I am not a therapist, but I can be a friend.

Dear depressed me,

You are still you right now, just with a little depression attached. Feelings are just feelings- they don’t define you, remember? You get to decide how today goes. Bring the darkness into the light. Text your friends who get it, write about it, make an Insta video. Just don’t hide it, ok? You know that it makes it worse. And also, you’re not the only one who feels this way, so don’t believe that lie either. You are not weaker, a worse person, a broken person just because you are feeling this way. You are just you, battling your way through today because this is just what it is.

Remember all of the amazing things that you can do because you are so sensitive to the world? You’re empathetic, and creative, and passionate. You connect deeply with God because you have to cling to him/her to survive. I know it doesn’t feel like it now, but that’s a gift. You’re really awesome and you’ve got some really good stuff going on. This stuff, the hard stuff, is just a bump in the road, but it’s not the whole road.

You can do this, because you always do. Today is no different than those other days. One step at a time, deep breaths. There is another side and you will get to it.

Love love love,

Lizz

Creating is important.

/in ,

I’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 societies 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 anytime 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.

Motherhood Mentality.

/in , ,

It’s always been easy for me to share about my anxieties, my OCD tendencies, the negative thoughts that plague me on the hard days. But it’s oh so hard to admit that those things are a struggle for me as a mom.

I don’t want it to be true. I want the two to be separate somehow; the messy human version of me, and then the angelic supermom version of me. As much as I cognitively know the importance of my child watching me navigate my own emotions and humanity, I still so badly want to be the perfect mom for her. But on top of everything else, guilt over mental battles I cannot control, isn’t helping.

If Lilah is anything like her mama she will feel things deeply, observe closely, and internalize everything around her. Those things are amazing gifts but also very hard things to navigate in oneself. I want her to watch her mama do it with humility and honesty. And even if she’s nothing like me and calm and steady like her daddy, I want her to be able to empathize with the people in her life who are different from her.

So if I know the importance of living vulnerably for my child, then why is it so hard to let go of this “need to be supermom” mentality? The truth is it is all around us and while many of us are exhausted by the concept, just as many of us don’t even realize we’re striving.

It all comes down to this theme I’ve been wrestling with my whole life: resting in who we are and where we are. Accepting that we are not supermoms, superdads, superhumans, and instead embrace exactly who we are-even the knitty gritty stuff that sucks to know about.

The little things are important.

/in , ,

Many of my conversations with others share this common theme; this need for purpose, excitement, newness. The hum drum tasks of life just don’t quite cut it and we are constantly searching for more.

When I break it down it’s all quite confusing. I’ve heard my whole life how Jesus is rest for the weary, and there have been times in my life where I have felt that so strongly. But hand in hand I have also gotten the message that I must do and achieve and work hard for his kingdom. In the Christian culture, aren’t missionaries idolized? We don’t look at stay at home moms or businessmen and say “wow. Look what they are doing for the kingdom of God”.

What a mistake we are making. To promote this culture where doing more equates to serving Jesus more. I just don’t buy it.

And so I’ve been on this mission in my own life to really sink my teeth into the sweetness of every single moment. To treat the little tasks in my life as if they were a great adventure with so much purpose and meaning. Because even though it may not always look like it, everything we do has promise.

Of course serve. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t do things for others or get out of our comfort zone, but what I am saying is that the little things are important. Grand gestures and big ideas aren’t always the best ones.

I guess the key is, are we listening to Gods voice? Are we so in tune with that greater plan that we can feel content in every moment because we know what we are doing has a purpose beyond what we can imagine? It’s so hard to live in that peace. But that’s what I want for my life. Not the certainty that I’m doing everything right, or that Im impressing anyone, but the acceptance that everything I do has a purpose and it’s never not enough.

Creating not Becoming

/in ,

I’ve always been creative, but I’ve never been able to nail it down to one passion. I love acting, singing, decorating, writing-the list goes on and on. I love to create.

For so many years I thought I had to choose. How could I be all of those things? It didn’t fit into what I had been subconsciously absorbing since I was a little girl: that I had to choose something to be known for. Not to mention, that being known by others was of utmost importance.

Creating became a source of great pain for me throughout college and years after. It felt too hard. There was too much pressure, I couldn’t choose what I wanted to be the creator of. I retreated into myself. I was able to skate by using only the creativity I needed to create lesson plans for my preschool class and nothing much more.

Still the nudge to create kept seeping into every area of my life and I couldn’t stop it. I auditioned for a show, got in, and spent the next two years creating as an actress. It was glorious. And then I got pregnant, slowed down, and that desire to create onstage took a back seat to a different form of creativity-writing. For the first time in my life I was content with the switch. I wasn’t afraid I would lose theatre, I knew that would be there when I needed it. I didn’t feel like I was choosing, I felt like I was just cycling creativity to match my phases of life. It was unexplainably freeing.

This morning I am organizing and redecorating the house, which is one of my favorite creative outlets. Under our guest room bed I have been storing my keyboard and guitar, untouched for a few years. As I pulled them out from the dust bunnies, I felt that suffocating need to put these instruments to good use. My mind flipped over to schedule mode and I began to strategize how to get practice time in every day, setting goals to lead worship in church as a seasoned pianist. And then I stopped myself. This was all wrong. These are creative outlets, to be used as I desire, on my own time, in their own cycle. I can put them up in the guest room to be more accessible, but they are about creating, not becoming something more.

You see, there’s nothing wrong with becoming something. Goals are wonderful things, and sometimes we have to push ourselves to reach our goals. But for a perfectionist like myself who sets goals for everything, the importance of creating with no need to become anything is so important.

I challenge you my friends, to create to your hearts content without asking that you always become. Take a pottery class for no reason, or paint a watercolor of your backyard, no strings attached. The pressure for everything we do to be moving us towards “success” is exhausting. Creating allows us to be without needing us to become.

Why Me

/in , ,

Today as I was nursing Lilah before her nap, I felt an overwhelming sense of thankfulness at the little person wrapping her little arm around my waist. But that feeling of thankfulness was followed by another familiar question: why me?

I’ve wondered this at so many times throughout my life, both the good and the bad. But now as a mother I wonder: Why have I been given a child when others struggle to have one? Why am I able to nurse my little girl in peace while other babies are ripped from their mothers arms at the border? Why do I sit here a beautiful beach house while others sit amidst the dirt and grime of poverty, begging for food to feed their babies.

Why me?

I’ve been asking questions as early as I can remember. I’ve always been obsessed with fairness, justice. I don’t understand why some of us suffer more than others. Why some of us claw our way through life while others float by.

So many times I just stand there, look up, and ask “what the hell are you doing?”

Sometimes It’s in the midst of my own suffering; the deepness of my own thoughts has caused me much pain. But the older I’ve become, the more I’ve come to recognize my own privilege. The more my heart breaks for those who were given something different, a life I could never even imagine.

And while I believe that there is purpose in it all, that all things work together for good (Romans 8:28), I am still saddened, outraged, shocked over the things I see going on all around me. More often than not I cannot grasp that any of it is good.

I find myself praying that I will see things clearly. That my heart would break for those things in this world that really matter. That God would lead me into dark places without fear, that he would use my privilege to love others. If not that, what have I been given all of this for?

I wrestle with wanting to stay in my bubble. Wanting to avoid fear and pain, failure. But that bubble is also a prison that will rob me of true life.

Why me? I have no clue. But I will not waste it.

This New Person

/in ,

About 8 months ago I met two new people. One teeny tiny one that relies on me for everything. And one slightly bigger person who I’ve spent my whole entire life trying to figure out.

Me.

It’s interesting how you spend all this time preparing your heart and your home for this little person, and yet you can’t quite prepare yourself for the other person you will meet at the exact same time: yourself as a parent, and for me, a mom.

It’s not a negative, the exact opposite in fact. I thoroughly enjoy getting to know myself better. The ebbs and flows of life and constant transitions, though difficult, are also exciting. When I look back over my life, I see a series of new people sewn in with the old person I was, and what a beautiful tapestry it makes.

Now enough with the poetic writer stuff. My apologies. I expect you want the vulnerable, knitty gritty out of me right? Okay, I’ll do my best.

Trying to find your new sense of self while also taking care for a teeny person 24/7…not easy. Where I used to have a variety of ways to escape or care for myself emotionally, I now am only left with a few, and usually I am too tired to really pursue those.

Self love has taken on a little bit of a different feel these days. A warm cup of coffee in the afternoon, a nap while she naps, a quick workout before she needs to be fed again. Everything feels a little bit rushed, with a baby waiting at the end of every activity. I must try so very hard to rest.

Well crap. Because resting has never been my strong suit. I’ve never been a good napper, mediator, lie around all day-er. Productive is the only thing that feels right to me. Hilariously, now I am a mom, so productive goes right out the window. A day where laundry gets done but the rest of the house is a wreck is a win. A shower every three days is a win. A blog post written on a weekday is a win. A few moments journaling about my hopes and dreams-MAJOR WIN.

When I take a step back, I am the same me I have always been, with just a few little changes. And I have to work hard to remember that when it feels as though my life is nothing like it was, that I am a totally different person, I am just me, with a baby. And maybe the seasons of my life look a little different, and I have to spend my “free time” more wisely than I once did. But maybe it’s a gift to be forced into intentionality. To be given a reason to fight against day to day melancholy as I play blocks on the floor for yet another hour.

I’m still in there. There’s just a teeny person clinging to my hip. And I would take one toothy grin over a weekend on stage, or a 5 mile run, or a full night of sleep. Those things will come again, but for now, this is my beautiful, messy, exhausting life. And I am the same Lizz living in it.

Photography by Lexi Fazzolari. Cover photo by Ashley Sider

Getting Over Myself

/in , ,

It sounds harsh, but it’s really not. It’s actually the most self loving thing I do for myself. It’s what I do when all other options have been exhausted, and all that’s left is me and a pile of things I am wallowing in.

Mind you, I’ve been in therapy for almost my entire life. I know all the coping skills and therapeutic jargon. I spent two months in a therapeutic wilderness camp and 16 months at a therapeutic boarding school. So you might say I’ve made a lifetime of working through my issues. That being said, I haven’t been able to rid myself of my humanness, and so, many of my issues still remain. I’ve learned over the years that there are times when I need to really nurture the sensitive parts of myself and times when I just have to get over it.

And the best thing is all I have to do is snap my fingers and voila! I’m over it!

KIDDING.

It’s a state of mind and active work.The thing I’ve been struggling with the most recently is my brand new post baby body. It is not easy to watch your body change throughout pregnancy, and even less easy to watch it stay the same after. For some, the baby weight comes off steadily. For others, like myself, healthy eating and balanced exercise does nothing. And guys, it’s been really hard. To not fit into my favorite outfits, a meltdown leading up to any event that I can’t wear Erics t-shirts to. My perfectionist little self doesn’t know what to do with this body that I can’t control. Everyone can see I’m not “perfect”-que panic attack. This struggle is the perfect “get over it struggle” and here is why:

  1. I am not currently struggling with an eating disorder
  2. I am doing everything I can (in a healthy way) to keep my body nourished and strong.
  3. I had a baby 8 months ago
  4. Hormones are still wacky

The above reasons show that I am in an overall healthy emotional state, doing my best to change my situation, which includes factors outside of my control. That last one is a huge one. Baby weight is out of my control. Totally. I’m doing my best and it’s still here. So basically I have two options.

  1. Spend the summer miserable and hiding in Erics old lacrosse pinnies.
  2. Recognize it’s not ideal, give myself grace, buy a few new outfits that work with my current self.

Spoiler alert: Ive chosen number 2. But it’s not over yet. Daily I must remind myself that it’s not the end of the world. I’m okay. It’s summer and I don’t have to wear pants if I don’t want to-YASSSS! My journal is filled with reminders. The mornings are filled with music that uplifts me and points me to Jesus. My thoughts repeat over and over “this body gave me Lilah. I honor this body for its strength”.

If I am not intentional, then choosing to get over it is pointless. You must get over it every single day, hour, second. Bettering ourselves is HARD work. That’s why sometimes we choose to just be crappy people or wallow in crappy situations. But wallowing steals joy and purpose. And I want both of those things in my life. What about you? What do you need to get over?

Love to you on your journey. It’s all so worth it.

The Days Are Long

/in , , , ,

Veteran mamas always tell me, “the days are long, but the years are short”. I hate that they are right.

Here I am, with 7 months of motherhood behind me already. My little girl has a tooth. How did we go from tiny little peanut on an ultrasound screen to this? It’s surreal. And yet it’s reality. Time just keeps on ticking.

But the days are long. The early mornings, the singing my thoughts all day to keep her entertained, the random errands to keep us busy (that may or may not end in me crying because-social anxiety). Those make up some long days.

The binge watching Netflix days (you know the ones). Where you have a little one or two playing at your feet, with My 600lb Life playing in the background all morning because you can’t quite keep your sanity.

But more often than not, in this new season of motherhood, the lengthy days have very little to do with her and much more to do with me. The thoughts that plague my brain over and over. “Am I doing any of this right?”, “am I a lazy housewife?”, “am I engaging her enough? Kissing her and squeezing her enough?”. The googling what’s normal, what stage she’s in, etc.

Ok maybe, some of you are just feeling like this day got a lot longer just reading the thoughts of this type A, anxiety prone mama, but my bet is you’ve been there too. Because there’s no manual. It’s all new. I am learning who she is and what she needs every day. But I am also learning who I am now, what I need, how to do both. Doing both, that’s what makes the days long. Her little smile and giggle, and teeny tiny hands grabbing my feet, that’s just a puddle of joy amidst my own intense thoughts.

Maybe a few years from now I’ll check back in with a toddler and a baby and tell you to forget everything I said before, that the kids make the days long-the tantrums, and throwing food, the balancing both, and keeping everyone alive. But for now, It’s just me and her. And I’m doing my very best to learn how to let go, but also hang on.

The most beautiful, frightening, journey I’ve ever been on. Blindly walking in who knows what direction, holding this teeny tiny person as close as I possibly can, and hoping for the best.

Thank you to my support system. You people are angels. Love you.