Word Therapy

Whole30 Day 4. The Good, Bad and Ugly

Day 4.  I’m actually sort of surprised I’ve even made it to day 4. I’m a habitual cheater on dietary modifications. It’s always sort of a slow slide off of the bandwagon for me.  So far this time, I’ve managed to stay within the hard confines of the Whole30.  They are actually harder than I thought, but at the same time, it gives me more freedom than I thought because I don’t have to really think too hard about what I’m going to eat.  It’s a pretty straightforward list of unprocessed, healthy foods.  I love that there isn’t portion control because while I’m not over-doing it, I hate measuring and always having to pack pre-measured stuff everywhere I go.  When 4 pm hits and I’m hangry, I don’t want to realize that I’ve already eaten my fruit quota for the day and I can’t have a banana.  There is no limit to the fruits with this plan, and that’s been majorly helpful.

 

Today has brought about a bit of exhaustion (actually a lot), which led to me falling asleep under a blanket fort on our living room floor while Leah watched Little Einsteins right next to me. It could also be in part due to the workout I did last night…

  

I showed up at the gym, and saw who I was working out with, looked at the whiteboard with all the workout times from the day, and thought I would try to just finish with the 2nd slowest time for the day.  It’s only my 2nd week back to working out, no need to blow everyone away with my athletic prowess just yet.  So last night’s crew consisted of a cute young couple who has crosfitted (that’s a verb actually) together for a few years, one of the trainers, and the husband of one of the owners of the gym. All definite newbies who would be no-doubt jog-walking instead of running, and throwing up the bare minimum on their push presses….or not.  The workout was 4 rounds for time of a 400 meter run, followed by 10 push presses (front squat, push the bar over your head).  “no big deal…I’ll just try to finish less than 5 minutes behind this shredded crew”.  As I ran behind the gym, past a sweet lady emptying her restaurant garbage into a dumpster, I know she was probably thinking “Is that red-head going to pass out? Her face is redder than her hair.”  Bless her heart, I think she purposely took her time emptying her trash so that she could keep an eye on me for all 4 rounds in case I passed out back behind the fence on my run on the dirt track.

I have a crazy kind of competitive streak that feeds on group dynamics.  I would have quit 100% by round 2 if I was trying to do that workout on my own, but I finished because there was no way I was going to give up in front of anyone.  This is again, roughly 60% of why Crossfit is my favorite way to workout:  Peer pressure.

 

Not only that, since we couldn’t see the timer on the wall because it was malfunctioning, I just huffed and puffed trying to keep up with everyone else and had to hope that when Lyndsey told me my time from her phone timer, that it wouldn’t be like 10 minutes slower than everyone else that worked out that day.

 

I was shocked when I finished and she wrote my time on the board.

 

9:40

 

Though I could hardly breathe and I was pretty sure I was going to need the smelling salts at any moment, I was pumped! I finished about 4 minutes faster than I thought I would.  I ran a segmented mile and threw a 53 pound bar over my head 40 times in 9 and a half minutes.  

 

So that was my 3rd workout in 3 days, in my 2nd week back to Crossfit.

 

That, combined with this whole30 has me feeling motivated but wiped out today.  I'm tired and I have a headache. So I’m not working out today, and I’m trying to force myself to eat because I’m actually kind of sick of my choices of food right now.

 

I’m going to hit up the Whole30 Instagram feed and look for fun recipes to try, and I’m going to try to go to bed early.

I think I might be in the thick of the “survival mode” portion of the program, where my body is starting to scream for it’s long lost loves: Coffee-Mate in all the flavors. Cinnabon. Hazlenut. Caramel Macchiato.  That, plus a 2 pm sweet snack, or a 9 pm dessert with my husband while we watch mindless TV…these are the things that call like a siren.

Keep it simple, go to bed early. That’s my game plan for today.

 

Today's lunch was Lettuce with Whole30 mayo, mustard, pickle and sliced turkey, and it was good! Salty and crunchy from the pickle, and almost as good as if I had thrown the whole thing on some french bread:

Overhaulin'...A very unlikely Whole30 participant

Doughnuts, Hamburgers, “salads” (covered in bleu cheese and dressing), chips, wine, cookies, beer…this summer was a bit of a nutritional disaster for me.  I found myself racing around trying to keep us busy because whenever we are home and boredom sets in, our 2 boys seems to think it’s time to kick off round 964 of their perpetual UFC fight.

 

This meant that we were hitting the park, the waterslides, the pool, the beach, wherever we could get OUT and just have space whenever we could. I packed our food along, but convenience won the day because I was so maxed from trying to full-time mom these 3 darlings, that I was grabbing whatever was easiest.

 

Combine that with the stress level of being full time referee, and I was looking for something sweet, salty, crunchy, or a combination of the 3 just about every night after the kids went to bed.  

 

By the end of the summer I felt exhausted, burnt out, anxious, and literally barely hanging on by a thread.  You can ask my husband how many times I called him on the phone in tears during the final weeks of summer break.  And all the while, I medicated with food.  Food to take the stress away.  Only the thing is, that same old paradox was at work that has always been there for me: Eat because I think it will help me deal with stress, but it only increases my stress.

You see, after I binge or overeat because I’m stressed, the shame and guilt start feeding my self-loathing.  This leads to anxiety about when I’m going to get myself under control, and then I become a really fun person to be around. Internally berating myself for having no self-control, wondering why I can’t be as disciplined as “that mom”.  I quit exercising altogether because I grew to hate workouts in my living room, by myself, with kids swarming me, while I sniffed the aroma of dog hair and dirt from our carpet.

 

I reached a breaking point.

 

It was a slow build up, but soon I found myself in a place I never thought I would be, considering an option that I never ever thought I could entertain.  As I found myself feeling like I was 50 instead of 34 when I got out of bed every morning with back pain and an ankle that was mysteriously starting to ache, I also noticed that my eczema was coming back for the first time in a year.  I knew that I felt terrible but I didn’t want to do anything hard to fix it.

 

One of my friends said “Oh you should do the Whole 30 with me!” I was like, “girl I’ve heard about that and it's only for crazy people.  How on earth can I handle the chaos of life without my copiously creamy & sweet 3 cups of coffee every morning? What am I to do when everyone is whining at 6 pm and dinner is still cooking and I’m trying to help with homework and I can’t pour a little red blend? And for gosh sakes ICE CREAM.  I can’t.”

 

But then, it just so happened (haha, who actually believes in coincidences? More like God tapping me on the head and saying “Hey girl"), Melissa Hartwig (Whole30 founder) popped up as the guest of the week on one of my fav new podcasts, For the Love with Jen Hatmaker.

 

As she talked about it, I grew increasingly excited but increasingly ticked.  I knew I had to do it.  Before I knew it I had downloaded one of her books to Audible (Food Freedom Forever), and I was slowly warming up to the idea that *maybe* I could TRY this.  I did not say DO THIS, I said TRY.  But as anyone who has done Whole30 will tell you, it’s an all or nothing thing.

 

Turns out that I warmed up to it pretty quickly when I started at the long-awaited Crossfit 791 last week (and HELLO MOMS, they have CHILDCARE!!!), because you can’t workout hard and feel good when you’re eating garbage. At least not in your 30s. Pretty sure I did eat garbage and felt fine in highschool and survived 2 hour basketball practices with Mr. Kenoyer…but I digress.  It ain’t happening now.

This morning's workout, (much easier to complete when I haven't been living on pancakes and sadness):

So I’m on to day number 2 of the Whole30, and I completed my 5th Crossfit workout this morning. I hesitated to share this with the world because I hate public failure, and that’s a definite possibility. What if you read this and see me eating pizza in two weeks? Well, if there’s one thing I’ve learned it’s that I just have to keep trying. At this point I’m determined to stick out this Whole30, but even if I don’t I’m not quitting. I’m not going to roll over and die.

 

So this is me, being vulnerable, telling you that for far too long, food has had too much power over me.  This feels like one of those line-in-the-sand moments, where I commit to trying something hard and telling everyone about it, and then almost hitting delete on this whole thing because this is WAYYYY too much accountability. I mean, for gosh sakes it’s only DAY 2. But whatever. Here it is, cheer me on, or join me, or know that if you too, feel like food has power over you and you want to break that, I’d love to talk to you.

 

Today's lunch was my homemade Whole30 mayo with canned salmon and pickles in lettuce wraps.  Really good!

For All the Non-Perfect Parents

Have you ever been having a good day only to have your world sucked up inside of a cyclone of shame inside your own mind?

 

Have you ever had this happen because you are SURE that you are the most inept, unqualified person in the world to do whatever thing you’re supposed to be doing well, but have just failed at miserably?

 

Maybe you have. Maybe you haven’t. Maybe you possess that rare level of resilience that doesn’t tie up your worth in what you do, what you produce, or how you perform.  Maybe it’s not so rare, maybe it only feels to me like it’s rare because I don’t know how to think that way.

 

I don’t know what your thing is. I don’t know in what sphere of life you are sticking your neck out, only to fail again and again.  For me it’s been one thing consistently that has shown me over the past 9 years, my woeful insufficiency. 

 

Parenting.

 

I’m telling you what, I was a really awesome parent until I actually gave birth to some children.  It’s been a long, sometimes (actually alarmingly often) painful process of discovering that I don’t get to command my own universe.  

 

One parenting book after another has failed to fix the crazy.  It’s not for lack of trying. You could come over to my house and see many of my book shelves full of parenting books that are very well written, holding the best of wisdom and intentions to swoop in and save the day.

There have been times I’ve read a book and thought “Man! I wish I had read this 9 years ago!” But then I realize I probably would have rejected this nonsense when I was 25, because I knew EVERYTHING, and these sweet little darlings will just probably outgrow all of this bad stuff if we just give them the benefit of the doubt, and a good dose of love in the form of permissiveness (misapplied as a misunderstanding of grace).

 

But as the years marched on, I’ve realized that parenting is extraordinarily hard work.  I don’t think that I approached it with the correct level of GRIT from the get-go.  Scratch that.  I know I didn’t.  And in the past few years it's often felt like we are trying to play catch up.  

 

This is the point at which I start beating myself up.  It’s like a UFC fight inside my head sometimes. Conflicting ideas spar and jab at each other, throwing around blame and condemnation;

 

“You should have never spanked him!”

“If only you had spanked him more consistently!”

“You should have started earlier with the chores!”

“You need to back off because you’re nagging with all the chores and feeding the anger in his heart!”

"You should have limited TV time”

“Using TV to get a break from the kids is no excuse.  Do better.  Find another way”

“Those people probably think you’re the laziest parent in the world.  A diligent parent would never have kids that act that way”

“How is that family going to ever believe you aren’t a bunch of hypocrites when your family fights and argues all the time?  Jesus? You guys love Him? Please.”

“If you could have figured out how to quit battling depression and anxiety so you could be a kind, calm, consistent mom every day all the time, then the kids would model your kind, calm, consistent behavior instead of your tendency to quickly fly off the handle and yell”

 

Do you ever have a tape that plays like this in your head?

 

If so, I am inviting you to say with me: STOP IT!!!!!!

 

We are not enough.  We cannot give enough structure, enough discipline, enough love, enough time, enough good examples, to ever raise perfect children.

 

Why, oh why have we created these unrealistic perfectionistic expectations and held ourselves and others to them?

 

God has never asked us to do this.  He has asked us to Love Him with all of our hearts, souls, minds, and strength, and to love our neighbors as ourselves.

Our kids ARE OUR NEIGHBORS.  When that registers in my mind, it completely transforms how I relate to them.  Instead of grabbing for more control, I remember that they are little people who make their own choices and have their own lives.  I do not get to commandeer every detail of their existence to make myself look & feel like I am a top-notch parent.

 

On another note, I need a full divorce from the desire for other people to approve of how I’m parenting.  Why do I care? They don’t get a say.  Even the guy at the breakfast table at our hotel last week who gave his wife some ideas about how I should punish one of our kids who back-talked about not wanting to eat any more breakfast. Even the fact that I harbor a memory about that guy shows that I care to much about his opinion. I’ll listen to the people who know us well, love us well, and care more about hearts than behaviors.

 

If I could choose  two ways to transform how I parent, it would be to permanently kick perfectionism out of my life, and to quit caring what other people think for as long as I live.

 

I absolutely cannot do those things without burying my mind in the truth of God and who He has created me and these kids to be.

 

I don’t have an answer for you other than to look to God and ask Him.  At the very least, I hope you feel less alone if you’ve been sucked into your own cyclone of shame this week.  YOU  are a good mom. Even if you’ve failed, been inconsistent, lazy, angry, irritable, any of it. 

 

There is so much grace for you. We are in this together and God has not left us alone.  Run to Him.

Neighbor. Who is Yours?

Another round of 5 minute Friday. If you want to join in or find out more, check out this page!

This week's word prompt was: NEIGHBOR. Set the timer and write for 5 minutes.  Here is what spilled out of my brain...

Who is my neighbor? They asked Jesus this question, trying to draw some hard lines around who they were obligated to help, and who they could leave outside of their circle.

 

Unfortunately we still ask this question all the time.  Whether we are aware or not, we are constantly thinking about and making decisions about life based on who we decide we are going to be inclusive of.

 

Maybe it’s a guest list. Maybe it’s who you’ll donate money to or to whom you won’t.  Maybe you have a harder time seeing someone who is on the opposite end of the political spectrum as your neighbor. Maybe deep down you know that skin color or socioeconomic status divides more than you'd even like to acknowledge.

 

We all have our biases. None of us are perfect neighbors.  We can all be better at setting a wider table; starting a conversation with someone who isn’t necessarily like us.  Often some of the deepest relationships are formed when we venture across the literal or figurative road to engage with someone who seems to be the furthest thing from “our type”, and yet, Jesus would say they are our neighbor.

 

We don’t get to pick.  Every person with blood flowing through their veins is our neighbor by God’s decree.  That’s a really tall order: treat everyone of them well; go out of your way to care for that person; sacrifice your own time and resources to help when they are in need.  I know that doesn’t come naturally to me, and that’s why I’m asking God to expand my horizons, my heart, my resources, and my willingness to be inconvenienced, awkward, or completely rung out for the sake of another.

PLACE-On How to find yours and mine.

*This is my 2nd attempt at Five Minute Friday writing, where you are given a word, set a timer, and write for 5 minutes. This week's word was 'place'. If you want to join the fun, check out FiveMinuteFriday! 

 

What is my place?

This question has come to the surface more than ever lately.  I'm in the midst of a time in life where I'm trying to figure out if I'm being obedient to the people, things, places, and ideas to which God has called me.

Unique to me and half of the population, is the fact that I'm a woman. For so long, women and many other groups of people have wrestled with the question of place.  Am I in the right place?  Am I settling for something less than I should be?  It only takes about 5 seconds to get on the internet and google "Mommy Wars" and you'll find all kinds of turf battles about the different places and spaces of motherhood that are constantly in question as we collectively strive to make sure we are in the right place.

The only certainty I have is this: If I'm checking in with God every day, reflecting on what I hear from Him and holding it up to His authoritative scripture, I will be in the right place.  Am I to stay firmly locked into the place of motherhood right now and not pursue outside interests? As a woman, am I qualified to have a voice in the church, in society? Do I have a place there? I believe so.

Do I need to worry about what place I will be in next month? Next year?

No, I don't.  God has made it clear that though we will try to make our plans, it is He who directs our steps.  My only game plan for discerning my proper place right now is to listen as intently as I can to His voice each and every day, and follow where He leads me.

This will lead to peace, joy, and the absolution of the fear that I'm missing it; that I'm in the wrong space or time; that I'm not getting my "calling" right.

What a relief.

 

Inspire-The Old Made New {Five Minute Friday}

This is my first try at Five Minute Friday Writing! I loved it. There is a word given to write about, you write for 5 minutes, and then done!

 

INSPIRE

 

What inspires you?  Where does inspiration come from?  There is a deep well in each human soul that carries the weight of every person’s existence up until this point in life.  Sometimes inspiration comes from when a person, a word, or an experience draws a dip from this well that lies swirling inside all of us.

 

Other times, we are inspired by something that is new, maybe even foreign.  

 

Inspiration may come from the resurrection of an old memory, an old hobby, a dream that we let slip through our fingers like the sand of the lake-shore when life pressed in and our dreams had to take a backseat to reality.

 

You feel that sudden angst in your spirit; maybe tears spring in the corner of your eyes, or maybe you feel as though you are going to burst before you can ramble off excitedly to anyone who will listen, this latest conception of a dream being cultivated in your creative space.  You can hardly wait to take action.  

 

Inspiration is the fuel of living a life marked by God’s creative imprinting on each of our lives.

 

Without it, we may be apt to settle for a life that is merely functional, getting from day to day with mere survival as our aim.  

 

I don’t want to live that way.  

I want to put myself in the places and with the people that inspire me regularly so that I may continually poke that deep inner place that gives birth to flights of fancy fueled by inspiration.

Quit Trying So Hard

You know how sometimes you sit down to read with your toddler at nap time and you feel like God is tapping on you on the shoulder saying “Remember when we talked about this a few days ago?”

 

No? Not a common occurrence? Well, not really for me either, but I do love it when God speaks to me through board books.

 

The book is called ‘The Three Trees’.  If you’re not familiar with this story, it’s about 3 trees that existed circa the time of Jesus’ birth.  Each tree has hopes and dreams of what it wants to become.  The pursuits are noble and praiseworthy:

 

~One tree dreams of being carved into a gleaming, highly decorated chest fit for the most priceless treasure that earth can offer.  

~Another tree dreams of being a majestic sailing vessel bound for powerful waters with mighty Kings as his cargo. 

~The third tree wishes for nothing more than to be left alone to grow to heights so stately and magnificent that whenever it catches the eye of a human, it will cause the person to glance even further skyward and contemplate the God who is exalted even higher than the tallest tree on earth.

As the story goes though, the trees all take on much more humble form. 

 

The tree who dreamed of being a treasure chest becomes nothing more than a feeding trough for snot-nosed animals.

 

The tree who longed to be a ship becomes just a humble nondescript fishing boat.

 

The tree who longed to grow to heights untold is ultimately hacked down with an axe in what seems to be the cruelest of fates.

 

However, each of these trees is shown to serve an even higher purpose than they could have ever imagined, in spite of or even because of the lowly form into which they were crafted.

 

The boat becomes the fishing boat that the Savior of the world uses to traverse the sea on that crazy night when he told a storm to shut up and calm down.

 

The feeding trough becomes the very first bed for the Messiah who descended to earth to begin a life in the flesh that lasted 33 years until…

 

The final tree took that same Messiah upon itself, as it had been formed into the cross that would hang up the bloody beaten Savior for all the world to see.

 

So in the end, the three trees, although their destiny and purpose looked far different than they had initially imagined, all were shown to be used by God in ways more powerful than could have ever been expected. 

 

Cut down.

 

Re-shaped.

 

Turned into something totally counterintuitive based on what they hoped would become of their existences.

 

What they saw as the most extraordinary use of themselves, was in fact nothing even close to what God had planned. I feel like God has been speaking this to me again recently.  I’ve been through this before, but I don’t feel like the idea every cemented itself into my heart.  I know that the Christian answer to living a life of purpose is to trust God and walk in the Spirit and let him work out the details…but I’m a hustler.  A striver.  An achiever.  

 

Truth be told, I’ve often had the attitude that “yeah God, I know I don’t have to worry about doing big, notable things for you because then I might get proud and want the glory for myself, but how about I just do this thing over here and pretend that it’s being done in humility, while all the while I will make sure I get some results even I have to manufacture them.  I definitely don’t want anyone to think I’m a slacker or that I’m wasting my life, so while I do think that you really are pleased with me no matter how much I accomplish, it just feels wrong to actually live like that.”

 

As I was meditating on some of this the other day, I thought of this quote from Ann Voskamp: “Those who keep score in life just want to know that they count. When you work for an audience of One, you always know that you count”.

 

That’s when it hit me.  I’m doing it again.  Trying to prove myself and look like I’m doing a good job in the eyes of all the wrong people.  

 

As I prayed and asked God to clarify just what is my next move, I felt like he clearly said this: 

“Love the people in front of you. Trust me with the impact”.

I mean, it makes so much sense when I write it down like that.  What are we supposed to even think we are to be about besides that? If we fail to love the people God puts directly in our path, we are probably missing the mark.  I think it’s partly our culture, and partly our pride though, that makes us feel like we always have to go bigger.

 

We don’t.  Look at Jesus. The savior of the world, and he spent the bulk of his ministry years with 12 people. Twelve. There was an entire world to save, so I’m sure he’s no stranger to the notion of wanting to make as big an impact as possible.

 

So when I’m feeling stressed, or frantic, or worried that I’m not going to be able to keep all the plates spinning, I need to ask myself a couple of questions:

Have I checked in with God recently?  Have I even given Him space to move in my life?

Am I paying attention to the people that have been physically placed in my life? Or am I brushing them aside so I can do the “important” work?

 

If you’re a mom raising young kids, you might be familiar with this tension.  This is definitely a direct application for me.  If I’m brushing my kids aside or feeling like I need to “keep them occupied” so I can chase after something else, I might need to re-assess.  As a sidenote, I’m not talking about our jobs.  That stuff has to get done. Bills have to get paid.  I’m talking more about this achievement culture where everyone not only has a job, has a side-job, has a seat on a committee or board of some kind, has a creative pursuit, has a home-based start up, has a full calendar of parties and social events and yeah…are we stressed yet?  All of that stuff is fine, but if we are chasing it and loading our plate ever more fully so that we can feel like we’ve crafted something shiny and beautiful, we may very well miss the purpose of LOVE for which we were created.

 

We have to choose to let God cut us down and reshape us. The process might look horrific, and we may not be sure anything good could come from it, but I’m willing to try trusting Him and see what kind of amazing things He will build that I never could.  

 

I know I have my marching orders for now.

 

Love the people in front of you, trust God with the impact.  

 

 

Alone in a Big Loud World

“Don’t air your dirty laundry”. “Keep your drama off of Facebook”.  

 

Yes we all want each other to be fine don’t we? We walk around saying “Hi, how are you?” and expecting the “Fine” response. We aren’t REALLY asking how someone is doing are we? Do we even want to know? And of course, mostly we all want to appear fine.  We want to appear held together, with at least a modicum of happiness and success evident in the highlight reel of our lives.

This kind of forced-happy-faced living invites years of pain to lurk under the surface un-dealt with, lest anyone find out that we aren’t actually fine.

 

Yesterday I was in my meditative zone: the kitchen sink. I find that’s where I get a lot of clarity on the issues that perplex me.  I’ll be ruminating on something for days, weeks, or even months, and then I have an AHA moment.  It never fails that I’m either driving, showering, or washing dishes, all things that have my hands too busy to write.  But as I was standing there, all of the sudden the line from Martina McBride’s song “Happy Girl” popped into my head.  It was seriously like it came out of nowhere, but it dealt so specifically with things I’ve been thinking about lately.

 

I can’t quote the line here without paying the song-writer with a vial of unicorn blood, so listen to it here if you want to hear it: Happy Girl by Martina McBride

 

Turns out when I listened to the line in the full script of the song, it’s not a dead ringer for what I was thinking about, but that one line hit the nail on the head.

 

I’ve been thinking about my own tendency, and the tendency of people I love, to hunker down in isolation when we are struggling.

 

It seems we can fall into 1 of 2 kinds of error when we are in relational crisis, emotional distress, situational drama or hardship, or any other kind of perceived difficulty. 

 

On the one hand there are the people who have no secrets; you know, if you just read their Facebook newsfeed, you can tell something is up. We either sit silently by wishing we could be so bold as to broadcast our distress, or we whisper to our friends that they should probably keep all that “personal stuff” under wraps because who wants to read all that drama?

 

But I have to wonder, by doing so are we perpetuating the good ol’ fashioned American ideal of the mythical perfect life?  Where you don’t ever let anyone see  your brokenness that hides under a polished veneer of a strong family name, a seemingly loyal and sturdy marriage, and a lifestyle that is well-suited to the American dream? Everyone looks good on the outside, but behind the scenes, people are falling apart.

 

It can look a million different ways; marital struggle, depression, anxiety, chronic pain or illness, challenging kids, financial strain, fear.

What if instead of hiding, we actually called or texted someone when we felt our insides crumbling? 

 

I know for me personally, I tend to to hole up when I go through any season of depression or anxiety, whether that’s brought on by life’s circumstances, or my winter nemesis; Seasonal Affective Disorder.  I have one friend who I barely talked to all winter who later confessed that she had been having a rough few months and so just really didn’t talk to anyone. We could have been bolstering each other up through that whole time if we had just reached out!

 

How different could things be if we would pick up the phone when we are down!  Text a trusted friend when we are in that vulnerable space where we are unsure when or if the clouds are going to clear.

 

The sage Beth Nielsen Chapman (songwriter of “Happy Girl”) got it absolutely right when she talked about painting on a fake broken smile and standing in the corner, but then inviting others into actually see her real heart.

 

That’s my goal. To throw open the gates into my life. Although it’s a bit intimidating…someone may judge me, someone may wonder how many more times this fickle middle-class American girl is going to succumb to the worries and cares of this life…I’m going to do it anyway.  There’s a good likelihood that when I throw open that front door, someone else is going to step through it and find a safe place.

 

That makes it all worth it, because we are all in this together, we are all going to struggle and go through pain, and nobody is perfect.  So let’s stop living like we are.

Springtime People

The BEST season of the year is here in full swing. Maybe you know it by the blossoms, or if you're from Wenatchee, by the smell of Funnel cakes and the sight of chairs lined up for the grand parade only 5 days away.

This morning I watched my husband faithfully get in his pickup and drive away to work while the world was just waking up, changing from night to day.  As I walked over to the window to watch him drive off, I was greeted with the most amazing sky.  Pink and purple, scattered and painted across the sky, as the whole tapestry of clouds slowly crawled across the sky toward the east.

I always love a good sky, but this morning the way the pink and purple layered itself upon the emerald green hills making way to the valley floor of white pear blossoms, it really did something in my heart.

It reminded me that we were made to be Springtime people.  We were made to be on our faces in the presence of majestic beauty.  This morning, the vibrant colors, the gorgeously hued layers of sky and earth though extremely beautiful, are but a shadow of the beauty and majesty I will encounter every day of eternity.

It makes me think of a line from this song that I woke up with running through my head: Even when my time on earth is done, louder then I'll sing your praise

There's going to be a day when even the most beautiful things we behold now will fade from our memories as we encounter the beauty of Christ and the heaven he has waiting for us.  So when we feel that thing inside of us that is overwhelmed and awestruck at the beauty that we live in now, we just have to remember, this is just a glimpse.

I for one, cannot wait until we live with the magnified, eternal beauty that we glimpse here in springtime for day after day after year after year after century after eon of never-ending soul-swelling bliss.

Giveaway! (Only for people who know anyone dramatic)

So, the title....I'm assuming that's everyone. If you don't know anyone dramatic, maybe YOU are the dramatic one.  

Our family has no lack of emotion. We are what Jen Hatmaker has referred to as a 'Spicy' family (in contrast to sweet).  We don't do any of the emotions halfway around here, and we are no stranger to voluminous tirades and extremely "robust dialogue" (thank you for that term Matt Chandler).

Over the course of parenting, thanks to a top-notch counselor, I've learned that anger is what's called a "secondary emotion".  Apparently being able to identify the underlying emotions is a big deal.  Being able to name those emotions and have a healthy way of expressing them, being allowed to feel them, and deal with them, are the building blocks to being a person who is able to live functionally in this world.

I don't know about you, but that doesn't come easily for me.  As I listened to this podcast where the authors shared about 'milestones' to be achieved on the path to emotional health, I realized that I probably need this book for myself as much as for my kids.  I can't wait to dig in to this book, and because I believe that as we become emotionally healthy people who teach our children these skills the WORLD will change...I'm giving away a copy!

If you want to enter, subscribe to receive email updates from my blog. That's it.  You won't get an email unless I write a new post, and I won't be sharing your email address with anyone else.  So enter your email address on the right hand side of this page and click 'subscribe' and you'll be entered!

 

I'll draw a winner on Wednesday evening!