Keeping My Head Down

Remember that time that I love Easter a lot but I didn’t really tell anyone that there was an Easter post on the blog? Usually I share on all social media outlets whenever I publish a new post to the blog. But getting the word out was the last thing on my mind this year, I was too busy with a great Easter weekend and family time to remember to “share.” I haven’t checked yet, but I’m willing to bet that only a few people saw the Easter post and my stats were low, but it’s a price I gladly paid. Being present is so much more life giving than being popular.

Dear, New Parent

Is it just my “news” feed or has there been a humungous baby boom over the past few months? It seems like everyday there is another newborn and new parents to congratulate! That’s awesome. But with all the newness that comes with adding a member to your family….there are a lot of new things that parents just had no idea were waiting for them.  Alright, listen…no I mean….LIST-EN. This blog is meant to be wholly and completely ENCOURAGING.  I refuse….REFUSE…to take a stance or use this blog as a platform for my personal convictions to become some sort of judgment on other parents. After much much soul searching and conviction over the past 4 years I can honestly tell you that I DO NOT CARE HOW YOU BIRTH OR FEED YOUR CHILD. When I say “I don’t care” I mean I don’t publically or privately concern myself with your family’s decisions. I do care very much in the sense that a wonderful thing has happened in your life and I can’t wait to hear all about it as a friend. And I’m so happy that you found what works best for your family, that is indeed an exciting discovery! Now you that you know what this post is not, let’s get into what exactly this blog is.

Mommies and Daddies of new children,

Congratulations! I know you are so so overwhelmed by the love that just swelled out of your heart and all over your life recently. Whether this is your first baby or your fifth, whether your child came by way of biology or by adoption, whether your new child is a baby or a walking, talking, child with a mind of their own, life as you knew it has turned upside down! There are three things that I want to say to you, with my whole heart. First, even though you are totally overwhelmed by love you are probably also overwhelmed by the total recall of your old routines and lifestyle. It is ok and normal to feel those conflicting emotions! It isn’t selfish to miss the freedom and sleep that isn’t readily available to you right now. Now that you are a parent you will forever live in this vortex of tension and conflicting emotions and desires. The vortex is your home now, embrace it. Seriously though, learn to live with a balance of continual sacrifice and continual blessing. And it is a balance, because if you martyr yourself for the sake of giving your child everything, you will find yourself at a breaking point and your child spoiled with an entitled view of life. If you continue to treat yourself as #1 and treat your children as accessories for your life, you’ll miss out and raise defeated children who chase love from other people because they grow tired of seeking it from you. Learn to accept the balancing act. You will come to count the minutes until bedtime and hold your breath until they sleep, but then you’ll sneak in their room and risk it all just to kiss their adorable little sleepy cheeks. The more you welcome the tension (versus fight it), the more content you will be. But all of us out here in the world of mommies and daddies know what you are feeling and we have all felt the same way! Becoming a mom or dad is a huge adjustment! Continue to nurture your marriage and your relationship with God, secure in the fact that strength from those relationships will propel you as a new parent. Do not ever fool yourself into believing that cutting corners in your walk with God or your spouse will give you more time or energy to be a parent.

My second piece of advice is this (mainly for mommas): DO NOT allow yourself to get sucked into pinterest, instagram, and facebook. Social media and the like have been the down fall of many a mother. First of all, most of us are posting the highlights of our day. The HIGHlights, not the low moments, not the boring moments—the best moments. Don’t compare yourself to that junk. Comparison is TOXIC. Listen to the women and married couples in your life that you love and respect, but don’t go on an unending search for the approval of all your friends. Trust me, living for others is exhausting and joy-stealing. Don’t read peoples rants online about the best yada yada and the only way to do so&so. People have been having kids and screwing it up for a very very long time. You know who got it right though? Yep. The one and only perfect parent-child relationship is the one we observe between God and Jesus. By grace we are invited in to receive the perfect Father in God, but we are far from perfect sons. “And from his fullness we have received grace upon grace.” (John 1:16) Walk in light and enjoy the richness of a life spent knowing Jesus. Continually come to the table for grace upon grace and you will be satisfied.

My third little tid bit to impart is simply this: You will sleep again. It does get easier. I promise. We’ve been there!

Let Them Love You

Austin and I are reading a parenting book. It is amazing and so convicting about so much more than the way we parent. But all this parenting stuff has had my mind so centered on what I am doing, what I am teaching, what I am enforcing, what I am giving, what my role is in the lives of our kids, but I realized that being their mom is not just about what I do. I think our society has such a twisted view of parenthood, they see kids as a burden that we have to reluctantly take on in order to complete the “American dream.” I even came across this video, which is made for comical purposes…but what does it say about our excitement to raise children and include them in our lives?

Disclaimer: This video does have a naughty word. So just...yea be mindful. Also, I don't want to convey any sense of "everyone should have kids now!" so just calm down. I appreciate all stages and seasons of life and don't think that being a parent makes anyone "better." OK. So just...calm down.

Why does society view family like this? Partly it’s because without Christ as the center of anything…it’s only driven by self-seeking “me” centered ambition. But partly, it’s because as parents we have all been guilty of seeking to vent and commiserate about parenthood (because it is really hard work!) and have left out all the good parts. Any mom could write forever trying to explain “the good parts,” but instead I’ll just tell you two little bitty stories. The first story is what led me down this trail of thoughts, which will lead me to the second story.

A few days ago, my kids were a couple hours into their favorite pass time: taking all the cushions and pillows off the couches in the playroom and making a huge pile out of them. They invited me to come down and get a ride on their cloud. So as I was almost literally floating on a cloud with my kids, I laid back onto my sweet girls lap and she started playing with my hair. She was so sweet and gentle; she wasn’t trying to get my hair crazy (which is always so fun); she was being loving and affectionate. She didn’t want anything from me; she just wanted to love on me. Then I remembered a time, the only time, Lyric had done this. There has been one isolated occurrence of Lyric playing with my hair gently. Usually he is either trying to make my hair crazy and weird, or he is trying to pull out a ponytail (because there was a phase when he would start crying and saying “Not like that mom! I don’t like your hair like that!” whenever I would pull it back. I guess it’s not my best look?) But during my pregnancy with Lily, I had migraines almost every day for three months. Eventually the migraines had three categories. 1.Full blown, take me to the doc and get me that shot that makes me puke and feel drunk…it would be worth it right now. 2. Definitely a migraine, but if I turn off all lights I can bear to lay on the couch and let Lyric watch TV all day long. 3. The beginning of a migraine, if I go and sleep and do my ice pack and Tylenol #3 (with caffeine) I think I will be ok in a couple of hours. I was in a category 2 migraine on this particular day. I laid on the floor and put my head on a pillow and just cried. I was in pain all the time and missing out on so much time with Lyric and Austin and I felt so lonely because I never felt well enough to go on a social outing. Little bitty 15-month-old Lyric toddled over and sat down right above my head on the pillow. As he reached out for my head I winced and said “No no buddy! Mommy is hurting.” But he leaned over my forehead and kissed me and then stroked my head gently from my temples to the back of my head and smoothed down my hair. He sat there like that and did that for ten minutes...that's a long time for a newly walking little boy. (and by the way, I’m totally crying right now writing out this cherished memory). I felt so loved by my son. I felt taken care of. I felt less alone. That little boy, my little boy…he loves me. He loves me so much. And I almost missed it because I was just being a mommy and didn’t think that he might actually have something to offer me.

Most of the time I’m spending and giving and working hard. And it is hard, parenting isn’t supposed to be a blow off thing. But during all my toiling their love for me is the strong and pure. And on occasion they minister to me and give and share and those moments are more precious than rare jewels. Don’t let parental exhaustion (whether it’s experienced firsthand, or you just witness it in your friends who have kids) overshadow the bliss and blessing that comes from cuddling with those little people who love with complete abandon, who us give their whole hearts and build their whole lives on us…their parents.

Recently after I said I had three little ones, a woman reacted by saying “You are a rich woman.” And she was so right. And I’m so sad that everyone doesn’t see it that way. Children are a rich blessing and not one that should be taken for granted. In the midst of your working…let them love you.

F is for Fletcher and Faith

It’s Fletcher’s first birthday, but I’m the one who got the gift. He is the most amazing little child, and in his infectious smile I see the gift of faith. I had never questioned or doubted or feared the way that I did when I found out I was pregnant with him just four months after having Lily. I had trusted God with my life and knew he was good, but until that point His plan had matched up with mine pretty well. But not this time. This time I was confronted with a question: “Do I believe that God really knows what is best for my life?” I don’t think I did. It seemed impossible that having 3 kids under 3 would be a life that I’d love.

I’m so gloriously glad that I was wrong. I was so wrong. Fletcher is the happiest, sweetest, most adorable and loving gift. He shows me every single day that it truly is best to throw myself into the faith that God has wonderful things planned for us. His little life symbolizes just how fervently I can trust God with my future. He shows me how wrong and how ridiculous it is to worry. He shows me that through Christ all things are possible, even happiness in a life with 3 toddlers. He shows me that God won’t abandon me, even when I’m at my most entitled and selfish. Fletcher broke down the walls of my heart and opened me up to gratefulness and freedom. Fletcher showed me how wrong the world is about children and never to give ear to scoffers. He revealed that even with the best intentions, advice or counsel apart from the (sometimes hard) truths of the bible are lies. He showed me that “I’ll be glad they are so close one day” is a belief that cheats me out of the joy I have in our kids being so close in age right now. There is not a member of our family whose presence did not change me for the better. I’m a rich woman.

           

Fletcher is literally the happiest person I have ever been around. He is so smiley and sweet and loves to make eye contact and then just giggle or wiggle. He has the most chubby little cheeks even though he barely has one tiny roll on his ankles and wrists. He loves to wave with both hands and clap. He already has some pretty cute little dance moves and takes a few steps. I love watching him follow his brother and sister around and he usually doesn’t cry when they try to force him to walk.  He is our sweet, happy, playful puppy boy.

Simplicity

This year I declared our family theme to be “Simplicity.” Last year our theme was “Endurance.” So today while the kids build a fort and watch Sesame Street I am collecting all the unused or unwanted clothing and junk and the Salvation Army is picking it up. I have winter to thank for this boost in productivity. If it weren’t for winter, I would never spend so much time in our home without interruption. No matter what time of year it is I always find myself staring away into our yard while I wash dishes. And now that I am no longer allowing myself to stare and wallow and wish for spring, I'm appreciating what I see out there. When I look back in our backyard I can see so far during the winter. There is nothing but bare trees and white snow, so my view is unobstructed. Hi there neighbors whose house I can only see when the couple of acres of leafy trees are naked!

I want to feel that same way when I look in our closets and cabinets. I don’t want to have to scoot around the stuff we never touch and the clothes we never wear. Since I’m powerless to make the weather change, I’m asserting my power to make our home feel more comfortable. Also, I’m one of those types, the type who loves cleanliness and organization. If I were a character off of FRIENDS I would like to think I would be Monica. So going through our house and freeing myself from current clutter and junk that will inevitably turn into to future clutter just makes my heart sing. I love it, but it still isn’t something I would have put on my top ten list to do this week. Winter gave me the inspiration to mirror its simplicity and the push I needed to make it happen. So for that, I am thankful (and to be honest kind of giddy about seeing so much stuff leaving our house!). Bye bye junk, you no longer have the power to make me feel overly Americanized and greedy and gross and cluttered. Simplicity, I love you and this winter is showing me that this year’s theme will bring forth a beautiful year for our family!

Stories: Garlic, Butter, and Marriage

Last night I used a spoonful of minced garlic for dinner. As soon as the garlic hit the hot skillet, I was taken back to the kitchen of the house I grew up in.

“Ok, alright. You’re leaving now? Ok, see you in a minute. Love you.” My mom hung up the phone and almost simultaneously opened the fridge and pulled out a jar of minced garlic. She started heating up the blue skillet with the wobbly handle, which I think was probably ceramic? I’m not sure, I just know the thing was probably older than I was. She pulled out the butter and generously put two or three tablespoons straight into the pan to melt. Then went in a spoonful or two of garlic. She stood there stirring it all around and around and hollered out “Girls, make sure the front of the house looks good. Daddy had a hard day!” I’m sure we reacted reluctantly. Then I came through the front study into the kitchen and saw my mom sautéing and staring into space.

“What’s for dinner?”

“I’m trying to decide.” My mom answered with her lips pressed together with her head tilted back, like when she is trying to remember something.

“But you’re cooking it now.” It seems like when a person is two steps into the cooking process, they know where they are going with it, right?

“Well I’m just heating up this garlic and butter so that it smells good.”

“What? Why?”

“Because Dad loves the smell of garlic and butter cooking when he comes home. It’s like a comfort smell or something. But he likes it so when he has a bad day, I do the garlic first and then I figure out what we are having with it.”

And that friends, was my first big lesson in marriage. That’s what love looks like over time. Love that lasts through triumph and trials knows when to heat up the garlic. I’m not sure if my dad ever knew that my mom did that. I’m not even sure if my mom realizes that she does it either. But every time I smell garlic slowly sautéing in a sea of butter, I think about my parents. 

Stories: My story

This new series was born out of inspiration. Our small group has been starting off the year by sharing testimonies from each couple one week at a time. Since we are a new group, this has been such a great time of getting to know each other beyond the surface. And by great time, I mean it has been awesome. We have also found ourselves making some new friends as well as getting to know old ones a little better. There have been so many stories exchanged over the pasted few months. It’s made me get the itch for a few good stories. I’m starting with the most important one, and from there…they are in no particular order. If there is one story from my life you need to know, it is this one.

My family always went to church and I knew that my parents loved the Lord. Every morning before school I woke up to my mom putting on her make up in the living room while she watched the news with her bible study book open to the day’s study she just finished with her bible and journal stacked over it. On car rides home from youth group I would talk about certain worship songs from the night and if the lyrics for some reason didn’t sit right with me. My dad used that as an opportunity to try to explain basic theology to me. I vividly remember my dad driving on this huge dark curve in the road near Berry Middle School while he explained TULIP to me, and where our family stood with Calvinism. So now that I have gotten a little ahead of myself on the timeline, you can see that faith was a staple of my life as a child and teen.

When I was seven, I decided I was ready to follow Jesus. It’s funny because I don’t remember where I heard the gospel for the first time, but I knew that you had to pray and talk to God about it. Another thing I don’t remember any detail about is that for some reason my mom had been babysitting a couple of kids for a short amount of time in our tiny duplex. I remember being the oldest and announcing that I was going to become a Christian and asking who wanted to pray with me. Later that day I told my parents, and they decided that I should sit down with them and our pastor and talk about what that meant. Now that I think about it, it’s really sweet and touching that our pastor would do that. Our church wasn’t enormous (at the time), but it was still pretty big. I can picture the conversation with Pastor Steve happening in two different places. I vividly remember sitting in a conference room around a huge, long, shiny, cherry wood conference table. But I also remember eating Fritos in a plastic bowl on our tiny concrete porch, waiting for Pastor Steve to arrive at our home. So like I said, I don’t remember the details well at all. I do remember this little booklet that illustrated a little stick person (me) and the word “God” on two cliffs facing each other. The only way to get across the divide was by Jesus who would bridge the gap. I carried that little booklet with me everywhere. After I prayed with my dad, and knew for sure what I was actually praying about…I looked at that booklet with such happiness because I knew I was on the other side.

It wasn’t until much later in life that I was able to discern between wanting to look good for people and wanting to BE good like Jesus and for Jesus. At my last summer camp after my senior year of high school, there was a worship night out in the mountains in Colorado in May surrounding a big wooden cross. I don’t remember any of the sermon that was preached that night or any of the songs we sang. What I do remember is kneeling face down in the dirt, praying and feeling absolutely overwhelmed that Jesus, being who he was, endured death for me, just as I was. I think it was the first time as a young adult that I really let myself think deeply about the pain and sacrifice of the gospel. I will never forget the beauty of that moment. As I lifted my head from prayer, I looked up to see snow flurries falling down. I know that in Colorado, especially in the mountains, it probably isn’t that crazy for a few snow flurries to fall in May. But to me, it was like hearing God say “I’m so glad your mine.”

When I went to college, I was working out the difference of “God the Savior” to “God the Lord of all my heart and life”—I just didn’t know it yet. I had grown up my whole life with a special needs sister, and had no idea how deeply ingrained her life was into mine. I didn’t realize how different our family was, I didn’t realize how much harder it was for us to get out and do things; I didn’t realize how far reaching the differences in our daily life really were. When most kids go to college they get kind of intoxicated with the bliss of their freedom. When I went to college I got that…and then I got mad. When I realized how much freedom and spontaneity were missing from my life and my family’s life, I was mad. When I realized that my sister would never experience the ecstasy of independence that I had, I got mad.  When I realized that most people are naïve, and lots of people are plain ignorant about anything outside of perfect health, I got mad. I had many crying, screaming, ranting conversations with God. But you know what? It was the first time I had passion in my relationship with God. I kept pushing to find the Truth and find Jesus and find goodness in the midst of my confusion. There were moments I wondered if Christianity was just a cult that threw clichés solutions at trite little problems. I wanted to find the people who fought for the hard answers, I wanted to find the churches that went further than emotion, I wanted Jesus to be real and I wanted him to give me some answers. One day in the car, waiting to pick up a friend from the dorms…I got my answer. It came clear as a bell. And you know what? It brought peace beyond my understanding…because honestly when you see what it was…you will wonder why it didn’t just make me more mad.  For the (probably) one thousandth time, I shook my proverbial fist at God and asked “Why her?!” And then it came. “Because I’m bigger than her. You need to see that I’m bigger than all of it.” And that was it. As painful as it was to hear, the truth is that God is no less God because my sister has special needs and He is no less God because I don’t get how it all adds up in the end. That was when I started believing that God hadn’t forgotten or overlooked us. That was when I cracked the door open just a little bit, to believing that God could still be a big sovereign God and be good and be loving, and not heal my sister.

I want to be very clear that my process was not an over night thing. But this was the catalyst of change for me. This was when I took ownership for my own relationship with the Lord, regardless of how it looked to the outside world. This was when the grace of God stopped being about checking boxes and starting being about authenticity. Over the next few years, there were a few more catalysts of change for me. Transferring to a large liberal state school changed my approach to spiritual discipline. Moving across the country to do ministry with my husband changed the way I viewed obedience. And the list goes on.  I struggled very much when I started writing this out, because I wanted to plump up some parts and make sure that people saw that just because my story wasn’t dramatic, didn’t mean it wasn’t interesting. But the truth is that my story is somewhat simple, and yet still miraculous. This is the story of my soul’s life. 

Both And

Kids are in bed, dishes are done, The West Wing is NOT on via Netflix because Austin is not here to watch it with me, I’m suddenly exhausted. Too exhausted even, to comprehend the Awana Cubbies booklet that just came home with Lyric. When something is entitled “Appleseed,” I’m sure that they mean it to be an easy read. For the life of me, I can’t figure out where his sticker should be or if there was something I was supposed to do differently, or is it a stick or a patch? Anyway. That all being said, this is probably the best opportunity to write I will get all week. Lily had horrendous, nasty pink eye this week, but we also got to eat ice cream and dance to Cinderella’s “A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes.” So all in all, it’s been a week. Oh geez, it’s only Tuesday. So what no one tells you about motherhood, the thing that no one says, but every mom secretly knows at baby showers….Ok pause. Before I say it, I have something else to add. I think for most women being a mom falls into one of two initial ideas. One idea is that being a mom is the best and most fulfilling and wonderful thing ever. The second idea is that being a mom is so hard, and so overwhelming and at times the grossest, most stressful thing ever.

So here is my big reveal. Being a mom is THE hardest, grossest, most stressful thing ever AND it is THE most wonderful, life giving, fulfilling, beautiful thing ever. (Admit it, when you read that sentence ((terrible grammar as it was)) you sided with one idea more than the other right?) Being a mom means that you have this tiny person or people, who need you more than anyone has ever needed you. They depend on you, they love you, and their whole life is built upon what you have to offer.  No one ever tells you that once you find out you are bringing a new life into your family; you will be in an unending catch 22. But you a really are, my friend, you so are. You will want to protect and love and be with this person forever all the time, and you will day dream of freedom in the form of a quiet afternoon alone at a coffee shop. You will cry when you drop them off, finally get used to being apart, be reminded of their little quirks, begin down a trail of “I wonder what they are doing right now,” moving on to “I hope that they did this, or not that, or aren’t such and such.” Finally, ending at “I can’t wait to see them,” and then coming right back to “When can we do that again?” It’s insane really. But if you have ever been in love, you know that some types of insanity are so worth it. Certain illogistics are the truest parts of life. (Did I just do that? Yea, I made that word y’all.)

That’s what the world doesn’t quite get. That’s what I didn’t get, until I was pulled in. There is nothing else in life that is as completely and honestly tiring, yet amazingly fueling. I’ve never given more of myself than in the last three years, and I’ve never found more of myself than I have in the past three years. 

27, Flirty, and Thriving (dang I wish that rhymed)

Tomorrow I turn 27 years old. And today I accomplished a goal that I set two years ago, while I was pregnant with Lily. And this year was one of the best years of my life. Looking into what I thought this year would hold, I anticipated many hard days, but I never guessed the sum total would equal the best year. The best year. The most surprising year. The most demanding year. The growing pains year. The most humbling year. The sweetest year.

Ever since I was little I had this idea in my mind that being 27 years old would be “like so awesome.” It’s a sentiment very close to the idea that a young Jenna has about being 30, in the movie 13 Going on 30.  I always thought I would be so put together, I’d wear the cutest clothes (and for a time, I thought that meant tight mid drifts ((which I was not allowed to wear as a kid)) with over-all shorts and long hair that I would constantly be swishing back and forth like the best valley girl ever), I’d be dating or engaged to the most successful business man who wore a suit like a Ken doll, and I would drive a cherry red sporty car, I would have the coolest friends and we would do awesome things like roller skate and stay out all night.  But in all seriousness, 27 always seemed so illusive and so perfect. Now as I sit across from a little girl spilling and picking up popcorn over and over, a baby boy needing a nap, and my biggest little buddy runs around with a fresh haircut while my husband leads worship up at the church for one of three services this weekend….I know I was not only wrong about what the past year would be like, I have been wrong about everything I thought I wanted.

I thought that difficulty would always be bad. But ya know, this year I intentionally just let it sit. Just let it be, and gave myself the freedom to enjoy the big picture while I struggled through some zoomed in moments.  Below are a few highlights, a montage of the year if you will. You should start the youtube first and know that this would be my theme song for my montage, don't read into it--the song just gets me pumped up and the video makes me want to happy cry.

Move: Let's not break up after all

For those of you who might have noticed that I started writing more often and regularly only to completely disappear…let me explain. After reading another blog and being totally disappointed and saddened by the disregard of holiness and biblical marriage (headship of men and submission of women done biblically) I was a little a lot turned off by all things blog—including my own blog. I had a bad taste in my mouth from what I had found out in the blogosphere. It doesn't really make sense, and to say the least I was throwing the baby out with the bath water.  After I told him I was done with blogging, my husband pointed something out to me —he challenged me to be spurred on by the things I disagree with (and especially those that the Bible disagrees with) not to be defeated by them.  I love sharing the truths that God is revealing to me both through His word and through hard life lessons. So I will not be abandoning the blog after all! Which leads me to introduce to you the next blog series on Bird In A Tree!

Move: life changes, so do you.

Having young children has begun to mean that the only constant (besides nap time) is change. As soon as one kid sleeps soundly through the night another one starts having nightmares, one kid can safely eat peanut butter (all you moms totally know that I'm talking about) while the other can't even have cows milk yet. It's a juggling act, and I have lots and lots of transitions and changes and adjustments waiting for me in the future. Recently though I was thinking about all the transitions I have been through in the past five years and frankly I find myself wondering how I fit so much into such a short period of time! Move is a series about transition; about the changes we face in life, both the voluntary and the involuntary. Regardless of whether we chose the transition we are facing or if it was thrust upon us, we have to grow and change with it. I'm so excited to reflect on changes I've made it through and ones that I'm still moving through now. Follow Bird In A Tree and keep watch on your blog reel/roll/reader for the first installment of MOVE.

I Don't Know How You Do It: Easter's Victory

Recently (and by recently I mean because winter is finally fading and I'm finally coming out of hibernation with all three kids in tow) I've been asked one resounding question...like a lot. "How do you do it?" Well, let me tell you.

I do it because God called me to it. And because he called me to it, He will equip me for it. And I know that I have the strength to endure it because He does. And I can do it, because Jesus is victorious over all!

And that's how this just became my Easter post.

I know it might seem like I'm over spiritualizing, but honestly--if I don't get this Truth every single day, then I'm not "doing it" or at least I'm not doing it well. If the victory of Jesus becomes something I take for granted then, not only, am I not doing it...I'm missing it. The moment I realized and took on my motherhood as my greatest calling and most important ministry "obligation," I started becoming aware of the crazy endless supply that was available to me every day and every moment. It's just as urgent and real as a young woman moving over seas to pursue her ministry as a missionary, or a pastor studying and teaching and leading, or a worship leader writing new songs and leading a congregation---that is the realness and the seriousness with which I should approach my calling. If I said to you, "My ministry is with these three unbelievers that live with me. They need help with basic life skills and are in desperate need for love and nurturing. They only know what I have told them and shown them of Jesus and the gospel."....I mean that kind of puts it in perspective right? The calling on mothers is real.

But this is where the very best part comes in. If Jesus was victorious over sin and death, then can't I trust Him to be victorious over naptime and tantrums and The Cat in the Hat (for the one millionth time) and loading up three under three in the car by myself? Can't I trust him to give me everything I need for that day? Can't I trust that even though I work so hard that I can absolutely bathe in joy simultaneously? Can't I trust that even when I miserably fail at motherhood, He isn't done with me?  If I really truly believe that Jesus defeated the grave on my behalf so that I would have abundant life, then shouldn't life reflect that abundance?

That's how I do it. I don't do it.

Seriously, where is spring?!

If you live anywhere from the midwest through the northeast, chances are you woke up to the worst weather report ever this morning. This first day of spring will be followed by 1-2 more weeks of blistery winter weather. If you are like me, your mad. Like real mad. Come on dude! I wish it was possible to punch the cold air, cause that is all I want to do right now! As totally and completely annoyed as I am...I also find myself thankful.

In past winters (especially winter of 2011 after my miscarriage) I wanted needed spring to come outside because in my heart I was enduring a vicious winter season. I was desperate to see the little buds discreetly appear on the trees outside our windows and then waited expectantly for them to produce even the tiniest bloom. When the soul endures winter, it's so painful and so long and so lingering. I needed to tangibly watch the earth transition into something warmer and welcoming and pretty. I needed to see it in front of me because I needed to be certain that God could do this for me too. God did move me from that place and out of that season I took with me so much richness and so much closeness to Him, that I wouldn't trade for a million spring days.

However, I'm very thankful that today it is spring in my heart even though it is winter outside. I'm so thankful for the joy and happiness and love and gladness that are present every day in my heart and in my home. This morning while I was reading I caught myself skimming the "sad" verses. I discounted their value, but then I remembered how vital those scriptures were to me in my hour of need. I clung with everything I had to David's psalms of languish and heartbreak. It meant so much to me that these verses were included in the psalms. Because it meant that God cared about all of me. God cares about each season I'm in. He isn't looking for me to be happy and perfect. He's listening in the praise and in the weeping. So I'll leave you with two totally opposite scriptures that are the same in their beauty for the one who needs them.




[9] O Lord, all my longing is before you;
my sighing is not hidden from you.
[10] My heart throbs; my strength fails me,
and the light of my eyes—it also has gone from me.
(Psalm 38:9-10 ESV)





[8] I have set the LORD always before me;
because he is at my right hand, I shall not be shaken.
[9] Therefore my heart is glad, and my whole being rejoices;
my flesh also dwells secure.
[10] For you will not abandon my soul to Sheol,
or let your holy one see corruption.
[11] You make known to me the path of life;
in your presence there is fullness of joy;
at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.
(Psalm 16:8-11 ESV)

Where Do I Put My Hands?

Baby number 3 is born! Fletcher Colby Tullos was welcomed into our lives at 12:09am Tuesday, February 19th weighing 6lbs 12oz and 20 inches long. The last three weeks have been wonderful. Fletcher is the most perfect chill baby. And for all the people who say that bringing the third one home is the easiest, they were totally right. Austin and I are both secure about who we are as parents and that has made all the difference in bringing home a newborn. But regardless of how wonderful the past three weeks have been, there have still been some major adjustments.

First of all--lets just address this with a little humor shall we? I'm sure we can all think up like a million things that are harder or more chaotic about life with three. Let's just let all of that go without saying.

1. Where do I put my hands now? I was just at a wedding and while I was standing there catching up with friends I had a super awkward moment when I felt like my hands had morphed into huge Mickey Mouse cartoon glove hands...and I had no where to put them. Minus three months, I had been pregnant for almost two years! No matter how tiny your belly is, when pregnant, your hands get to rest on your belly, or rub it, or hold your lower back for extra support. It's one of the perks of pregnancy (which still does not make up for the fact that you can't have any sushi for nine months). Not having a baby in the ole uterus is forcing me to retrain my whole posture and learn how to stand and talk like a normal adult again.

2. How much caffeine is too much caffeine? I don't know. When I stop and ask myself this question, I have a cup of coffee and think it over. Then I decide that was a stupid question.

3. What day is it?

4. I have got to stop forgetting when I am watching a recorded show on my DVR during a late night feeding. When the weather man says "Several more inches of snow expected tomorrow!"...that doesn't really mean actual tomorrow. Calm down.

5. The biggest adjustment I've had to make since bringing Fletch home is a mental and emotional one. I was so totally unprepared for all the joy and all the love and all the goodness. And yep, it's harder and crazier and busier--but all the joy and all the good stuff just overshadows it all so much. It's just not a thing. I mean...it's a thing and it's real....but come on...no one who has lived it would trade it and there is a reason. I know I'm only three weeks in, but what I'm lacking in experience can be counteracted by what I'm lacking in sleep. So I think I have ground to stand on when I say I really do actually love our crazy 3 under 3 life.

Now excuse me...my daughter is licking the hinge on our back door....got to run!

And baby makes 4! (or 5, or more!)

I'm flattered to announce that I have been awarded a Liebster blog award! It is an informal nomination from other bloggers, but one I will gladly accept. I now have to nominate 3 blogs under 3,000 followers that I would like to nominate for the Liebster, so be looking for that at the end of this post. 

On the heels of my blog posts about our unexpected third pregnancy, I thought this would be a great time to write about the transition from one kid to multiple kids. I'm sure I'll have even more to say on the subject after Fletcher joins us at home. For now I mainly wanted to touch on some practical things, but lots of emotional elements of adding kids too. I can't tell you how many of my friends (both real and through social media) are pregnant, adopting, or looking to foster their second child.  For those of my friends coming up on their due dates its a time filled with emotions both happy and sad, nervous and excited. This time last year, I was so ready to have Lily, I wanted to meet her so badly, I was so excited to have a little girl, and anticipating seeing Lyric in his role as big brother. At the same time I was nervous because I was afraid that somehow by bringing a new baby home I would not have as much attention for Lyric or love for Lily. I was sad that my special time with Lyric was ending and I thought our relationship would never be the same. I did realize that Lyric, by being the first born, was the only kid who would ever know what it was like not to share me with any siblings. Some of the things that helped me with the transition were things that other moms helped me see, some things that God gave me to live by, and some things that I just picked up along the way. Because this post is specifically written for those of you who already have at least one kiddo, I’ll do it in outline form. ;)

Great Expectations- Setting realistic expectations is the key to embracing most big changes in life, as you know if you have been married for longer than a few months. Use your mind, not your emotions. Don’t let Pinterest set the standard for your expectations. Let God’s word and character shape the desires of your heart. Expect to be emotional for a bit, expect there to be at least a little chaos, expect “survival mode” and not much more. If you are one of those moms who can still cook and clean and bring a newborn into the family, great for you. Most of us aren’t that mom, most of us will survive and in a few weeks/months we will return to thriving in a state of routine and a resemblance of order in our homes.

The Beloved Firstborn(s)- I think a lot of us get scared, nervous, and overly sentimental about the last months, weeks, and days we have to pour out all our love and attention on our first little ones (if you are wondering about the plural nature of these first ones, its for my girl Camie and all you mommies of twins) Even preparing for our third born I find myself a little torn over wishing I had more time to get to know Lily and excitement to welcome Fletcher to our fold. But the truth is, that even though you will be distracted in the first week or two, you will very quickly acclimate and have just as much attention and love for your older child. If you are a little sad because you are afraid things will never be the same, you are right. Life will never ever be the same it WILL be better. As much chaos as there has been, as many bad days, as many times as I’ve had two crying little ones on my hands…I have never ever wished for the way things used to be. (And don’t worry, the bad days are still far out numbered by good days!) Our family is so much better and richer and complex and laughy and silly and deeper because of Lily. And honestly, your oldest will also always be the furthest developed, and as a result will still get tons of your attention and play time. Plus, just remember the only child who ever knows what its like not to share you is the firstborn. All the other kids to come won’t even know that reality, its more normal to share you than not to. (Unless you only have one kid, in that case…why are you still reading this post? …I tease…but seriously)

“How will I do it?”- I think that every mom bringing home a newbie asks herself this question, regardless of how many she has brought home before. This is a question that pops into my mind sporadically. Well honestly, with this current pregnancy being such a shock, this question was just about the only thing on my mind for the first two months. I’ve dealt with it, but it still sneaks in every once in awhile. Just remember, there was a time in your life when you didn’t know how to be a spouse, there was a time when you didn’t know how to do pregnancy or birth or adoption, there was a time when you didn’t know what to do with a baby/toddler/kid—but it worked out, and it is probably still working itself out. When this question was swirling around my head on nights that I couldn’t sleep I thought that I had to have an actual answer. Then one day someone asked me in all seriousness how we were going to do it…that was when I realized, there is not an answer you can give yourself or anyone else. The answer is—we will give ourselves grace, take advice of those who have gone before (with a tablespoon of salt), and we will have faith that God planned this for our family so He will direct our paths and sustain us to walk it.

Should I Stay or Should I Go- Sometimes you need to hunker down and know that a bigger family sometimes means more limitations. You can’t get out and do stuff as easily as you could with no kids, or one, etc etc. But just as there are times when you need to just say no and stay home, the opposite also applies. Sometimes I catch myself feeling down for no reason and to top it off the kids are grumpy and awnry. Then I realize…oh yea we haven’t left the house in four days! That’s when we make a play date, or go to Chickfila, or Target, or the park or library. Sometimes, your house starts to close in on you, then its time to get outta there! After the first month Lily was born, I was ready to be a little more active and the kids needed something too. So I loaded up the double stroller and twice a day went on a 30-minute walk. It was great for me and wonderful for them. It wasn't always easy, but so worth it!

Mommies, the biggest thing I can emphasize is this: Don’t listen to others when they say “wow you’ll be busy!” or “yea now just imagine this [tantrum, shopping, really any activity] with one more kid!” or “yea it will be really hard for awhile, but one day you’ll be glad.” Do listen to your husband and your kids. Commit to turning to God’s word before you turn to any other book or blog for help. Stay near to the one who created your growing family; you don’t need to be anxious. Everything else will work itself out.

I feel that to be really honest I should share that this blog took a few days to write, because…well sometimes I had to stop writing and read my advice back to myself ;)

So I am supposed to nominate blogs with less than 3,000 followers. I can't do that. What I will do is share my favorite favorite blogs in my feed:

http://www.babywisemom.com
http://morninggrunge.wordpress.com
http://notyetfully.blogspot.com

Is that a second line?! Part 2

I was frustrated

I was mad

I was scared

I was overwhelmed

I was disappointed

I was selfishly crushed

This is the story about the contortions of a believer’s ungrateful heart. It’s weird, it makes no sense, and frankly it’s kind of bratty. By most standards, my feelings are understandable, but by my standard it's not right. Thankfully, my contorted heart and mind and emotions were untangled in the end, which is personally my favorite part. I’d love to skip the “freaking out” parts and skip straight to the happy stuff, but our story, like all the best stories, is even better because of the triumph.

There were so many sleepless nights spent staring wide-eyed at the ceiling completely freaking out. I worried about the number of bedrooms in our home, the lack of a third row in our car (purchased ONE WEEK before I found out I was pregnant), the chaos that was looming in the distance, the effect all the pregnancy and children would have on our marriage, and the effect that the pregnancy would have on my body. I spent a lot of time being sad that I had to stop losing weight. I tried to bury the fear of migraines returning (although, when the first one hit I was a massive heap of frantic tears, which makes me even more thankful for friends who let you cry and take your kids off your hands for the afternoon). But more than anything else—I lived and breathed in complete and utter denial. I’ve always heard of denial as a real thing that people that are grieving or in shock deal with. I never knew how real it could be until I started catching myself praying for the absurd.  I know what you are thinking…how can any prayers be absurd? Let me tell you. When you catch yourself genuinely praying that God would keep this baby safe and healthy and protect you and the baby from a miscarriage, but just kind of freeze that pregnancy for about two years, just ya know, put things on hold…. believing that because God is sovereign, he can do this thing you are asking of him…that is absurd. Yes he is a sovereign and powerful creator, but come on! Get a grip girl! I wish I could emphasize enough how honestly I relied on this whole…on hold, notion. 

Probably the only time during the week that I would face reality was during a run at the Y. I liked running inside on the little track upstairs (I know it’s weird) and each time I would inevitably cry. It was two steps forward, one step back. Beginning the run I would cry from stress and worry and fear, leaving the gym I felt encouraged, filled with truth, happiness and excitement. You should know that the encouragement piece came largely from the ministry of my husband and his amazing worship team and the awesome album they were working on, which I put on my iPod even during it’s “revision” stage (if you don’t have it, your missing out).

This was a time of contrasts and roller coasters for me. It was as if with every crash of fear and worry and selfishness, I was hit with a corresponding wave of truth and encouragement and help. If I wasn’t crying from the worry, I was crying from the happiness. It was so overwhelming for me that even while I was being so difficult, God would be so gentle. No matter how afraid I was—of everything, all of it—God still spoke. Never was I alone, never ever did I stop hearing from him. Sometimes it was scripture, sometimes it was music, sometimes it was people, and sometimes it was quiet revelations or new perspectives.  I’ll never forget the day when I realized that not only was this real, but this was perfect for our family’s story. All at once, at the end of a run, it just came together. Having the perfect “two year plan” just isn’t us. We are risk takers, free spirited, rip the band-aid off, “let’s do this thing” kind of people. This fit us better. The air was crisp, the sun was bright, there was a tiny breeze, my hair was pulled back with a ponytail and elastic headband when I called Austin and shared my excitement. The moment you realize that God knows you and your marriage and your family far more intricately than you do, that is a beautiful moment of grace and relief.

The coming days brought more “reliefs.” Relief like—we have eternity for order and peace and perfection, so what is the big deal if we have crazy, full, tiring days for a little while right now. That’s what life on earth is anyway. Relief like—my weight loss and health goals were quickly turning into an unhealthy obsession and this pregnancy was the abrupt end to that path.  Relief like—I love, like really love and like my kids, and now I get another one! No doubt the changes ahead are big and undeniable, but it’s a good thing. Fletcher Colby Tullos, our son and third born, is loved and anticipated and good for all four of us.

I am blessed

I am joyful

I am hopeful

I am entrusted

I am excited

I am held up

Normally, my journal is totally off limits, but just this once, take a look.

 truth

 # of kids

Beth Moore conference notes

 "I am Not Abandoned" HBCD Worship

 deliverance

                                                                     Relief