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.

Through Your Pain, We Love Him More

Have you ever been around some one who is going through something really hard. Like really hard. I’ve had the privilege of walking along side some friends in hard times and I’ve been walked beside and held up by some wonderful friends. In those times, if God gets the glory, doesn’t it just keep you coming back? Doesn’t it make you stop and wait and want to see more of God? As much as you don’t want those trials for the ones you love or for yourself…doesn’t it just make you thirsty? Doesn’t it just show you the most raw and gritty picture of the need and desperation in your own heart? Maybe I’m alone in this, but something about the closeness of Christ in those trials…it speaks to me.

When we go through trials, we find ourselves wanting to know that it’s going to help someone one day. We want assurance that God will actually be glorified. But the glory for God is already there. For those who are hurting and reaching and needing God, for those who are seeking and finding Him right where He promised He’d be…you’ve glorified Him. You have shown so much of the Gospel, you have magnified His name, you have helped us…by your pain. You have helped us by your steadfastness in the face of suffering. It wasn’t perfect or pretty, but it was real and it was honest and it was the widow’s mite. When you sought to love Him as life bruised and beat you, you showed us how desirable Jesus is for us everyday. When you were carried by God and rung out the tiniest bit of faith from your broken heart, you challenged us. Just because there are no speaking engagements or coffee dates or viral blogs to tell your story…you helped us still.

Therefore, since we have been justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ. Through him we have also obtained access by faith into this grace in which we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God. Not only that, but we rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us. (Romans 5:1-5, ESV)

knowing and being known

The kids are eating clementines (actually Lyric is currently amazed at his ability to “open” them on his own!) I’m taking a quick break from cleaning the kitchen, and we are jamming out to “Glory Is Yours” from Elevation Worship. I can’t help but get psyched out of my mind while I listen to this song and think about a week and a day from now. In a week and a day literally half of our small group is getting baptized, and Austin gets to be the dunker (dunker: a spiritual term for super spiritual people, obviously).

For a period, I didn’t totally love the idea of small group. I guess, what I really mean is that I didn’t really see how it could be something that would make me excited. But now I finally get it. I’m experiencing biblical community who “Rejoice with those who rejoice, weep with those who weep.” Being allowed into someone’s life, knowing their story, knowing their darkest and brightest times of life, knowing the burden’s they carry, being invited in to share those burdens and pray together…it’s so challenging and life giving and edifying. Being there for the happiest moments, experiencing the life changes, hearing good news, being giddy for surprises yet to be revealed, laughing together…it’s so encouraging and life giving and fun. Being one of those people for somebody is amazing, but selfishly having those people for myself is the biggest gift.

to know and be known

That’s got to be what all of us want most. We want it from our relationship with God, we want it with our friends, we want it with our significant other, we even want it from our social media feed. I’m so thankful for the ones who know me and the ones that I know.

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.

July Reflection

Three years ago at this time I was shell shocked and nervous and scared.

Two years ago at this time I was full of fear living on the edge of panic.

One year ago at this time I was crushed and afraid and secretive.

Three years ago at this time, I was scared because He had given me a child.

Two years ago at this time, I was scared because He had taken one away already.

One year ago at this time, I was scared because He had given me back two fold, what I once feared would never be again.

Three years ago at this time, Lyric had just been born and had an unexpected surgery and we moved across the country.

Two years ago at this time, I found out I was pregnant with Lily and scared out of my mind that I would have another miscarriage and that I would never carry another of our children to term again.

Three years ago at this time, I found out I was unexpectedly pregnant with Fletcher, everything about my plans made sense and nothing about this surprise seemed to work in my mind, I was terrified about what the future would be like.

This summer I realized that all my fears had been proven wrong. The teeny tiniest seeds of belief from those times have been blessed beyond what I ever imagined.

And blessed is she who believed that there would be a fulfillment of what was spoken to her from the Lord.” (Luke 1:45, ESV)

Three babies from Katy Tullos on Vimeo.

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

When life gives a beating, blessed am I

I have missed this place...this place for me...but lately I've been denying the call to come back and make the time and use these gifts and talent. I can guarantee you that you can look forward to a post about thankfulness, about community, about health (the good, the bad, and the ugly), and about crazy stay at home mom moments. But in this moment I have to sit down and write the words that are circling around the inside of my head.

Recently I have had the privilege of walking beside a dear sweet friend as she and her husband have taken heartbreak after heartbreak from life. I shared with them recently that during a night of worship at our church, I felt jealous of them. I wasn't jealous of their circumstances--I wouldn't wish them on anyone (and my sweet friend, I wish I could take it away from you). But I was so jealous of their absolute and total need, their thirst, their desperation for Christ and for the hope of heaven. I remember that place. When we were waiting in limbo to find out if I had miscarried (in February), when the bad news of our miscarriage had indeed been confirmed, and when I found out that I was once again pregnant and terrified of what might happen--those were precious times. In the moment I hated all the feelings I was feeling and the place we were in, I felt like it was somehow a bad thing that Christ alone kept me going every day. But when I think about the totality of worship that I felt, it was the one area of my life where I felt passionate. I remember that it didn't matter how big or small the gathering, I felt this compulsion to physically crawl over the rows of chairs in front of me and climb up an invisible ladder and sit in the lap of the Father.  He felt like He was just right there, and He was, but I'm sincerely at a loss for words to describe the closeness I felt during those times. I've done the summer camp thing (and although awesome); I know how to spot a "spiritual high." The most difficult times are different, I don't think anyone would say that adversity brings a spiritual high. But it does bring your flesh, your human nature, to an all time low. Most of us do and say things that we normally wouldn't in times when we feel like we just can't take another minute. This past year and half I look back on those hard times, the heartbreaking days, and the excruciating pain as markers of my spiritual growth and learned reliance on God. The times when I was sad all day, or couldn't move from the pain, the days when I knew that no one could fix my problems, the days when I felt like life had beat me into a limp little pile and then come back for more--those times are when Christ's light shines so brightly. Those times are such precious memories because of how loved I was, because of how much love I felt, because of how much love I needed.

But if it had not been for the good times, for the boring days, for the bible study routines and structure and normalcy with Christ...how would I have recognized His closeness? What would I have done and felt and believed in those moments where I couldn't hold a bible in my hand or sit in church? He would have been just as near, but would I have even known it? Would I have recognized His character and His love? Would I have been able to stop demanding that He change my circumstances and start praising Him for who He is?


I'll leave you with those questions. This is going to have to be a two parter.