Pursuing Abundant Life

"Don't ask yourself what the world needs.  Ask yourself what makes you come alive.  And then go do that.  Because what the world needs are people who have come alive." 

- Harold Whitman

Last night my husband and I hosted a big bonfire with a group of close friends to celebrate the end of a long journey and the beginning of a new one that our family has just embarked on. We roasted hot dogs and smore's, drank wine and talked until well close to midnight outside by the fire.  When the last couple had finally loaded their kids into the car and we sunk into bed, we agreed that the night brought such an overflow of love, support and ultimately-- life.  To be surrounded by friends who have seen and supported us along this journey and to celebrate with them was incredibly life giving.

I recently read somewhere that the phrase life giving is being over used.  While it might be so, this same phrase has become an ever present theme for me over the past year.  I believe it all started when my husband began to challenge me to stop agreeing to to things we both knew would be done out of the guilt of saying "no."

A friend would ask me to go an event and I would say "yes" just to be a people pleaser, all the while knowing it just wasn't right for my day or my week.

Some nights I would feel the pressure to cook a huge dinner in the midst of crabby children and mounds of dishes. Yet another lesson in learning to shed the "super mom" ideal.  I would scratch the big dinner idea, feed the kids left overs and order takeout after they went to bed.  Guilt free.  Because ultimately this was much more life giving for me and for my kids.

Lets be honest- kids would rather have a smorgasbord of dinner on their plates and a happy mom rather than a plate full of gourmet foods and a mom who wants to pull her own hair out.

Ditching these smaller life sucking acts led me to remove some even bigger, that I knew weren't bringing life. This led to a long overdue delete of facebook. For me, a typical day in the life of facebook went one of two ways-- methodically check my feed every 20 minutes.  Sigh, when no one has updated their status since the last time I checked.  Because really, what are people doing with their time?  Ha.

Or, send me into a complete anxiety attack when I've read yet another post about a child diagnosed with cancer or an infant who has passed away from SIDS.  Before I come off as completely cold and heartless-- let me say that I do care about those types of issues.  But I believe there is difference between constantly immersing yourself in the tragedies of this world and then going to the other extreme-- living a life of complete naivety. There has got to be a balance.  Reading posts and articles about rampant sex offenders and catastrophic tsunamis weren't just keeping me informed-- they were becoming Satan's tool for bringing me to a place of constant fear and anxiety.  In an effort to do something life giving, I decided it was time to take the power back.  And I did. And it was so worth it.

Jeremy and I feel that God has really been leading us to a place of shedding safety nets in order to really trust Him for his provision and direction and to really truly pursue abundant life. We've made some pretty bold decisions in order to give life back to our ourselves.  Jeremy quit his job in order to continue his dream of becoming a full time marriage and family therapist. We got a dog. I'm going to go ahead and just put it out there that the dog has been much more life giving for my kids that it has been for me. Sorry, Miya. We've got some pretty big things on the horizon that I can't wait to share will you all in the next coming months.

But beyond the big things we have done or look forward to in the coming months, so much of our past year has consisted of small things that have brought so much life.  Hiking with our kids. Experiencing a mountain sunset.  Capturing my daughter on camera as she stands in awe of the rainbow after a mid summer thunderstorm. So much life can be found in these moments when we are intentional about finding what makes us most passionate.

For me, moving forward in this continued pursuit of what is most "life giving" means taking on some dreams and passions that God has been shaping in my heart for the past several years.  I'm returning to my work with the elderly after a nearly year long maternity break.  I'm so excited to be part of the new campus launch of our church--Red Rocks and I'm praying about how I can be used to minister to other mommas in our church. I'm also so excited to keep pursuing my involvement with Love146-- which is our Denver based task force, working to end sex trafficking here in our own backyards.  I'm pumped to begin training for my next marathon along the Big Sur Coast of Calfornia.  And certainly not least, but something I'm so ready for is to get back into the blogging world.  Writing is something I'm so incredibly passionate about and I have felt God leading me to take it on more regularly as a way to reach other mommas.

I express all of these dreams knowing full well that life can take turns we never imagined.  I'm open and excited (and a little nervous) to trust God in a new way. Mostly I'm looking forward to writing and sharing how He continues to bring life to me-- and through me-- as I work with people I love and get involved in causes close to my heart.

"The glory of God is a human being fully alive.  And to be alive consists in beholding God."
St. Irenaeus 

So what does this mean for you? Maybe it means prayerfully considering a risky career leap to do something that will bring God more glory and ultimately you more life.  Maybe it means starting a family or taking that trip you've been wanting to take for years. How will you pursue your most abundant life?

This Crazy Ride

I'm standing barefoot in our little galley kitchen, hips swaying.  I've got one baby in my arms and another with her arms wrapped around my legs.  And we're dancing. And singing together.  Our new favorite song is playing on repeat from the counter top.  The one that is still littered from last night's dinner dishes.  Oh, and the lunch before that.  It's 11 am and I'm still in my pajamas and the baby I'm holding could use a bath.  This has been my life for the past 8 weeks.  And it will continue to be for some time.

"Heaven knows that it's a crazy ride, it's never perfect all the time.  It'll pull you down and send you flying, so baby hold on tight, on this crazy ride..."

Life.  It sure is a crazy ride.  I think that's why this song resonates with me.  It's a life I never prepared for, never quite dreamed would turn out like this.  You know, the one where you are giving so much of yourself to little people that you find it hard to find your own self most days?

Someone asked me once if I enjoyed being a mother.  If I enjoy my children.  And I've contemplated this question a lot over the past few years.  Do I enjoy being a mom?  Well, there are definitely parts of being a mom that I don't enjoy.  There are those "get in the shower and cry so no one can hear me" times...If you say you don't have those kind of showers, you're lying.

There are those evenings that I swear if my daughter calls me one more time to get up to go the bathroom, I may destroy everything on the coffee table.  Because all I really want is a break. There's that darn breast pump that I'd like to hurl against the wall because I've become its slave for the past 2 months and there's no end in sight to our hate/hate relationship. When the baby is due for his 8 week shots and I'm having a panic attack because I hate to see him in pain.  When the endless pile of dishes in the sink starts to get to me. And the dancing in the kitchen doesn't seem so magical but more like a road block to keep me from getting things done in my day.

But I think that if you are a parent, you know the upside to this crazy ride is all of the unexpected moments in life that take your breath away.

Like your baby's very first smile. Or when he discover's his hands.  His first 6 hour stretch of sleep that leaves you feeling like a new person.  When your 3 year old writes her own name for the very first time.  When she finally masters how to "pump her legs" and then spends hours on the backyard swing set with a plastered on grin.  The first time you hear "I love you momma."

There's a joy to parenting that not a person or thing can steal.  Not the weary moments that come with having a newborn or the exasperating days that accompany toddler hood. And I'm in this place.  I'm on this roller coaster ride of parenting.  With all of the varying highs and lows and inbetweens.

So tonight, I'm going to let the dishes sit.
I'm going to pretend I don't smell the spit up milk that has been sitting too long on my pajama top. The one I probably should have changed hours ago. I'm going to hug my babies tight.
And we're going to dance.

Because all too soon, the days of first smiles and learning to pump will be gone. And it will be those days that I'll be missing and remembering.  Not the sleepless nights or the weariness and exhaustion that comes with being a young momma.  I'm on this crazy ride.  I'm right in the middle of it. It isn't anything like I thought it would be.  It isn't what I planned. It's actually better. And the amazing thing is, I wouldn't trade this ride for anything.  

Little Hearts

I'm learning that my daughter is a human sponge.  She's watching my every move. Taking in every word that my husband and I say and she's imprinting those words on her heart.

Each night before climbing into bed, we sneak into Mackenzie's room and we pray over her.  And each night before I leave, I whisper into her ear, "You are the best thing that ever happened to me.  Don't forget that".  And then I melt when she climbs into my lap the next morning and whispers, "You know you're the best momma that ever happened to me?"  Literally, some days I am floored that a seemingly sleeping child is hearing my words and that they mean something to her.

And several times a week I smile as I hear my husband ask Mackenzie from somewhere in the next room, "You know you are loved?"  So it shouldn't come as a surprise to me when, while she and I are out grocery shopping, her hand slipped tightly into mine, she looks up at me in the produce aisle and she sweetly says, "Momma?  You know you are loved?"

Because she's a sponge.  She's hearing our words and she's taking them in and they mean something to her.

But just as our positive words are being soaked up, I am reminded daily that, so are our negative words. Last year I was introduced to fellow blogger Jen Bucker.  She is a beautiful mother of two and is an amazing writer.  She has an incredible gift and I hope you will discover her like I have.  While reading one of her posts a while back, she wrote a line that I have not forgotten and it replays in my mind almost daily.

Jen wrote, "Little hearts should not be broken by little things."

Sounds simple enough.  But is it really?

How often do we get overwhelmed by the constant barraging of questions from our babies?  "Mommy, can you help me with..." or "Momma, I went potty in my pants..." Or maybe your baby is so small that he or she hasn't even formulated words yet.  Maybe you hear grunts and whining, accompanied by constant pointing to objects.  And you just want to pull your hair out by the end of the day.

Sometimes, I just cringe at the sound of the word.  "Momma."   And, I just want a break from the responsibility that comes tagged to it.  Like, maybe if I pretend that the shrill sound of my title being shrieked from the next room isn't actually for me....then maybe, (just maybe) I won't have to come to its every beckoning?

How often do we trip over the dress up clothes or stub our toes on the tricycle that is lying out in the middle of the floor?  How often do we hear the sound of a plate clanking from the dining room table and then we wait, shoulders tense and holding our breaths, just knowing that we're about to hear the words, "Uh oh, I spilled...."  And then we're inevitably on our hands and knees picking up stray pieces of macaroni and scrubbing cheese off of the walls.  Huffing and puffing and thinking, "I don't deserve this."

And some days I just snap.  I holler and I yell.   I mutter under my breath, just loud enough for her to hear my frustrations.  I make her smaller than she already is.  I belittle her and I let her know she is an annoyance to me.  And it shows all over her face.  Her already big, blue eyes get even wider and more round and I can just see that something has changed by the way her lips twitch.  For a small second, I am no longer "the best momma that ever happened to me." I've become someone she is afraid of.

And it is then that, in the back of my mind I remember, Little hearts should not be broken by little things.  Sometimes I find myself whispering it deliberately under my breath.  "Little hearts should not be broken by little things. Little hearts should not be broken by little things...." 

And the truth is, maybe that one moment won't actually make a lasting impression on my daughter.  Maybe she will skip off and continue her playtime of princesses and treasure maps. And soon she will have forgotten that mommy was ever upset.  Maybe.

But a friend recently pointed out to me, that we never know the exact point or moment in our child's life when he or she begins to formulate memories.  And what do I really want those memories to be of?  The ones where she is made to feel embarrassed and belittled for simply being a kid?  I hope and pray that those aren't the memories she's making each day.

When I think ahead to the kind of future that I want for my children, I know in my heart that it isn't always going to meet up to my ideal.  One day, my daughter is going to come home from school and she'll be fighting back tears and feeling like she's worth nothing.  Some mean girl will have made a snide comment or a certain boy will have told her she's not pretty enough.  And those days will break my heart as much as they will hers.

But here's what I do hope for on those inevitable days. Rather than my words for her as a baby and as a child, enforcing those feelings of unworthiness as a teenager-- I hope that she will come back to the words we whispered to her in the dark of night while she was sleeping. The words she hears now while she is wearing her princess crown and dancing merrily around our little home.

That, when the mean girl tells her she isn't "cool enough", she'll remember, I am the best thing that ever happened to my momma.  That when the boy she's so desperately seeking a kind word from, isn't giving her the time of day-- she'll remember my husband's words, "You know you are loved?" I hope and pray that our words- of positive affirmation and of love and security, are the words that speak the loudest to her on those terrible days.

Little hearts should not be broken by little things.  Today was a bad day.  I lost my temper this afternoon.  Mackenzie missed her nap and I snapped at all of the little annoyances of my day.  She went to bed crying.  I could be so angry at myself.  And part of me is.  But tonight, I climbed into her little white bed. I pulled her close to me and I whispered, "I'm sorry."  And she whispered right back, "It's okay momma. I love you".

 And I think it is those moments that matter the most.  The willingness as a mother to admit when I've been wrong.  The humility to let my little girl know that even her momma sometimes loses her temper.  And tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow I will make new choices and I will repeat again those words, little hearts should not be broken by little things.  Little hearts should not be broken by little things.  Repeat.

Grace Forgotten

In this season of yet, more change, I find myself being drawn back to old weaknesses and feelings of inadequacy. I've gone back to climbing the rugged mountains in life that I have been naive enough to think I had conquered.  But as I sit here tonight and write what is on my heart, maybe that's where I am finding some beauty in the midst of struggle.

The realization that I've been in this place before but back then, I struggled to see any beauty in it.  And so, even though I find myself frustrated by the circular patterns I so often seem to travel, I do recognize a glimmer of hope and redemption that I haven't always seen in the past.

Today I found myself again in a place of feeling overwhelmed and as if in a choke hold of suffocation, recognizing that the time until our little boy arrives is quickly approaching.  For the past three or so months I've masked all of these anxieties with the excuse that I am merely "nesting", as it is so often referred to in a light-hearted manner towards the end of pregnancy.  But I think deep down I know it has been more than that for me.

In a fit of feeling helpless and overwhelmingly behind about a month ago, I confessed to my husband that my obsessive necessity for lists and meticulously organized cabinets has come from a place of remembering how chaotic life was after our daughter was born.

The not feeling good enough.  The feelings of unpreparedness. Could it be possible to circumvent the haggardness of newborn days if I were more prepared this time around? And so, in a desperate attempt to prove to myself that it could be done, I've been running myself ragged trying to overly plan for this new little life.

Stocking freezer meals, planning grocery lists, organizing closets and purging unworn clothes to goodwill.  Mapping out the perfect layout for a nursery so as to make those sleepless nights more easy going.  I've laid awake at night planning out my next conquerable chore that would surely bring us closer to a place of being more "ready".  I've shed tears when, in my lowest moments, I've realized I'm just not working fast enough to be where I want to be by the time he arrives.

And, if I'm completely being honest, I've been wading through the sin of distrust and pride that I was so heavily ensnared by the first time around.

And all along, my servant of a husband has been bending over backwards to help me find a place of peace in the midst of the mess that has taken over my heart and mind. And at the same time, God has been whispering to me through the madness, reminding me to take hold of the one thing I was so in need of after our daughter was born.  Grace.

Grace.  Grace to let go of my imperfections and my fears of inadequacy as a new mom.  

Grace to let the dishes sit in the sink and to let the laundry pile up while I cuddle my newborn son and whisper to him how deeply he is loved.  

Grace to rely on family and friends to provide meals for us while we adjust to being parents of two.  

Grace that will allow me to take a guilt free shower while my husband takes care of the babies for a half hour.

Grace to feel tired and worn down.  Grace to shed tears when I am at my lowest points.

Grace to forgive myself on the days when I forget about this grace Jesus has so freely offered me.  

Because he hasn't asked me to be perfect.  

He has asked me to come to him when I am weary.  He has asked me to give my burdens to Him.

As I sit here tonight, my first baby sleeping soundly in the next room, my second baby resting beneath the rhythm of my heartbeat,  I am reminded of my ultimate purpose as a mother.  

God has asked me to be a good steward of the souls of my babies.  And how can I do that for Him when I am failing to be a good steward of my own soul?  How can I set an example of God's grace to them while I am distracted and beating myself up over the socks that have yet to be matched and the unmade beds I still haven't found my way to?  How can I mirror God's grace to my babies when I haven't quite found it myself?

And unless by some stroke of miracle, I am miraculously healed overnight of my pride and perfectionism, it is very likely that I will wake up tomorrow and face this struggle again...and the next day and the one after that. But I take comfort in the fact that this struggle isn't something that was even on my radar four years ago. 

And today it is.  Tonight, I am painfully aware of my weaknesses that are so often blinding and crippling.  My greatest hope is that, in the coming months as we welcome our baby boy, I will be reminded as I have been tonight of the grace that I so desperately need to be shown and to show myself as I navigate the this journey of parenthood.  

Life's About Changing

I've never dealt well with change.  From as far back as a little girl, I can remember struggling through the normal changes that come with life, whether it be from a big move to a new city, a friendship that had run its course, a move to a new school...  To me, every change just seemed like an end.  I could never see a clear, new beginning. My Momma use to let me lay my head in her lap, she would stroke my hair and do her signature "tickle my ear" way of soothing.  Many times, she would sing the lines from an old Patty Loveless song,

"Time will ease your pain,

Life's about changing,

Nothin' ever stays the same... 

Come let me hold you and I will try, 

How can I help you to say goodbye..."

And, even though I'm an adult now, and have learned to navigate the winds of change much more swiftly, I still often times find myself humming the lines to that old familiar song.  Tonight is definitely one of those nights.  I'm not sad and I'm not regretful.  But change is still bittersweet for me.  

Tonight, I put my dream job in the past and let God finish a work in my heart that I know He has been doing for a long time.  I never thought I would be the type of mom who could be "just" a stay at home mom.  When Mackenzie was born, I wanted more than anything to be able to work.  And when I joined my current company, I was thrilled to have an identity that I believed would keep me from becoming "just another stay at home mom".  Over the course of the past few years, God has slowly but surely been  giving me a new heart and a new desire.

A few months back as I was driving to work, I prayed and asked for a way to stay at home with my kids more. And, no joke, less than two hours later, I was sitting in the office of our Executive Director, listening to her tell me that the company was making changes and that my hours would be cut.  Oddly enough, I didn't see this as a blessing.  I was angry.  I'm not sure quite why.  Clearly, God was working boldly and swiftly to answer my prayer.  I just hadn't trusted Him enough to do so and take care of the needs of our family.

So, here we are, two months later, and tonight I made a change.  I punched out of my position for the very last time and I will punch in to a new one later this week.  I'll be staying home with Mackenzie several more days a week. To say I am thrilled would be an understatement.  It's been pretty incredible to see God work from the moment I spoke that prayer, to all of the details and blurs that needed to be filled between then and now.  Every single one of them has been filled.  No detail has been left unknown.  God really did hear my heart and He met me where I was at.

More than anything, this change for me tonight is not just a job change.  This change has been one of my heart.  I'm looking back on where I was three years ago, so desperately trying to hold on to the parts of me that "were" from before I became a mom.  And here I am today, loving the life I have with my little girl when I am at home.  I can work the rest of my life.  But I can only dance in my holiday socks, and do the wiggles with my three-year-old for a short time longer. She'll be in kindergarten before I know it and I'll be in my car doing the "ugly cry" after sending her off to her first day of school.  And on the way home I'll be humming that old familiar momma song...

"Life's about changing, 

nothin' ever stays the same..."

So here's to change.  Here's to living it.  Here's to experiencing it.  Here's to embracing it and being thankful for it.  Here's to feeling...well, a little bittersweet.  But here's to seeing the clear, new beginning that change always brings.

DIY Burlap Pillows

Recently, a friend and her husband were featured on the HGTV Show "House Hunters".  When the episode aired, Liz and Mike had some throw pillows on their bed that I fell in love with.  While watching, I told my husband, "We've got to get some of those pillows." 

Only, when I started searching different sites, I found that most of them cost $60 or more. 

And while I absolutely loved these ones by The Virginia House...

I'm cheap and we're on a grad school budget.

So, I started searching Pinterest for ideas on how to create my own.

I started by creating a stencil using the computer and card stock printing paper.  Follow along if you want the instructions.  If not, skip to the part where I stencil the letters.

Creating the Stencil

1. Start by choosing a font and by adjusting the letter sizes to how big or small you would like them.

2. Next, left click with the mouse and choose "font" on the drop down box.

3. Once the font box has opened, look for the "text effects" option towards the bottom and choose it.

4. Now you can choose "text outline" and "solid line",

(this should give you a solid black outline around your text).

5. And finally, change the font color to white (or a color that is lighter than the black outline).

*There may be an easier and more common sense way to do all of this but humor me...this was the best I could come up with.

6. Print the outline letter and get your box cutter ready.

7. I chose a box cutter rather than scissors and I'm so glad I did.  Make sure you angle the cutter down instead of straight up as your are tracing the letter.  If you miss using the blade, it won't actually cut the paper in all spots and you'll have to redo parts of the tracing.

8. Now you are officially done with the stenciling and you are ready to trace your letters onto the burlap.

As I wrote in my Burlap Wreath Post, burlap is very inexpensive and can sometimes be bought from craft stores for as low as $1.99 a yard. You can't beat that.  I bought one yard of fabric and cut it in half to cover both my throw pillows.

I'm almost embarrassed to say how easy this whole project ended up being.  I actually chose to stencil my letters with a metallic gold Sharpie Marker.  I could have used paint but I figured with a toddler running through my house, I just risked being knocked into and spilling paint everywhere.

And finally, once the letters were touched up, I hand sewed the burlap onto my old throw pillows.  The sewing took a little bit of time but I wasn't sure if I could use a sewing machine on burlap.

 

 

You can find a simple tutorial here on how  to recover pillows.  It really is as simple as  ironing the the hems and sewing the two sides of the pillowcase inside out.  When the two sides are sewn, flip the pillowcase to the correct side, stuff your pillow inside the case and sew up the bottom of the pillow.

And finally...

The total cost for this project was under $5.00.  Because we already had the throw pillows, the only purchases I made were the burlap and the  package of markers.

I'm pretty excited with how these turned out and I may add an "&" sign somewhere down the road to another pillow.  Hope I didn't miss anything!  I would love to see pictures if you make your own.  A special thanks to Liz & Mike for giving me the idea to create some of our own!

Love,

Love Affair With Burlap...

I've gotten quite a few questions about the burlap wreath I just finished so I wanted to add pictures to give others an idea of how to make one.  It was very simple and it's definitely one of my favorite DIY projects to date.

I purchased a yard of burlap at JoAnn's.  The burlap runs for $3.99 a yard and if you use one of their weekly coupons, you can sometimes get it for as low as $1.99 for a yard.  

Hence, the reason I'm having a love affair with burlap right now. 

I began by cutting the burlap into strips.

I used a single stray strand of the burlap and threaded it through a needle-

 (if you look closely at the above picture you can see stray strands of burlap fraying at the edges.  I tore those off until I had one long enough to use as a thread).

I connected the two sides of my first strip of fabric with the needle and thread.

I gathered the fabric in three pleats and brought the needle down from where I first stitched (at the top of my fabric) and brought the needle through each pleat.

Repeat this step.

Gather three pleats and bring the needle down and through the pleats (pulling tight after each set of pleats).  It should begin to look like the picture below.

And when you have finished and run out of your first strip of fabric, it should look something like the picture below.

Below is a completed strip of fabric placed on a wreath to give an idea of what it should look like.

I continued to to make pleats with each strip of cut fabric and I sewed them together until they were long enough to cover the whole wreath.

When the pleats were complete I used a hot glue gun to attach the burlap to the wreath. I also used stray burlap pieces and tied them around both the burlap and the actual wreathe to make it more secure.  The burlap blends  in so you cant see the tied pieces.  

Lastly, go to hobby lobby and go crazy in the dried flower department.

I could spend hours in that place.

In total this project cost under $5.00. 

Soon I'll post about our DIY burlap pillows.  I'm thrilled with how our first one turned out and I can't wait to share the set of them and explain how easy they were to make.

Love,