Safe

I haven't been to the dentist in 2+ years. This is terrible. I've had my excuses but now things are calm and the time is there to go. So why don't I make an appointment? It's simple, I'm afraid of what they'll find. Two years of neglect will most likely result in major dental work needed as well as cash money. (Insert wide-eyed emoticon) And to think this could have been avoided by making my yearly appointment.

Our spiritual lives are a lot like this. We hold back from talking to God or spilling our secrets to a friend because we're afraid of what will happen. We're afraid we might actually have to rip the bandage off and expose our wound as well as tend to it. And because this is frightening we go on our merry way and tuck it deeper inside until so much time has passed that you could have sworn it was gone.  Out of sight and out of mind.

This can't be what God intended. Denial, tucked away pain, and fear of the exposed do not sound like  safety in a Father we are supposed to trust. They sound like lies. Lies we tell ourselves for a sense of safety that are in fact false. God should be safe. And the reason He is safe is because he busts those lies wide open. Fear of what he'll find is nonsense because he already knows. And as you confess and lift your eyes up toward him he helps you unpack the tucked away pain and fear. It was never about what he might find, it was always about him restoring you through Christ.

This is not and should not be something new you've heard if you've sat in a chair at church. But it still might be new if you have yet to experience exposing an old sin or wound because you're afraid of what will be found. So please please remember restoration is ours because He is SAFE and Jesus made sure of this on the Cross. 

*Go take a listen to the worship song "He's good good Father" 

The Helmet

Home to Me

It doesn't have to be perfect to be beautiful.  I love that statement, now more than ever.  It's from blogger and writer, Myquillan Smith.  Recently Jeff and I moved into our very first home. An actual home that is ours, well in 360 more payments it will be.

I wanted to love it here immediately. I wanted to be proud of it. I wanted my family and friends to love it too. The truth is though I didn't love it at first. It was a blank canvas away from my home and everything I knew. Suddenly I missed the tiny condo that smelled and felt like us. It was only the next town over but the difference of miles felt long and wide. We used to pass our favorite restaurants and well groomed sidewalks on the way home. Now we pass a roller rink and hay pasture. I realize this sounds snobbish and I truly apologize because it does. Thank God He humbles.

At first I wanted to change it all. Walls, floors, counters, windows, even new vent registers. Suddenly I needed new everything because I thought that would make me happy and fun to show others. But what I got was the wrong paint colors and an over-budget list of things that cannot happen yet. Seriously, my room looks purple and not gray. And in the right light, the down stairs looks a bit peach. Nope, didn't want peach.

Let the humbling begin. At first it was a little cotton, a mirror and a few of my milk glass pieces that suddenly created a vignette on my mantle that felt a little like me. And then it was simply using what I had to decorate my new canvas. Pictures went up and a new yellow rug was laid. And it began to come together, not perfect but together. New neighbors were met and the most beautiful sunsets shone over the pasture. In fact I love every sunset now over that pasture as I drive. Reminds me of my Grandfather's farm. And don't be surprised if Jeff and I skate a few laps and gain a few bruises at the roller rink as we remember being young. God reminded me that our new home didn't have to be perfect but instead a place we call home, filled with love for Knox and others. I want it to be a place of rest and peace. I love this home now and I love that God decided to gift us it.

I think any home can be your dream home if you love it enough to let it be you. So thank you Sterling Court. May the memories commence...

We are never on our own

I am currently overwhelmed. Phew, a lot is going on. Do you ever do that, honestly sit down and look at your plate of your busyness. It's not the best idea if you want to rest easy afterwards. But do I listen to good reason? No.

We are moving in 26 days. I should probably be packing up our life instead of blogging while Knox naps. Jeff is speaking at a camp next week, which means I will be on my own for 5 days...with a 4 month old. We close on the house next Friday. Need to find a babysitter while I'm thinking about it. Knox has his PT appointment in 1.5 weeks in which we will most likely be told he needs to wear an orthotic helmet for his left-sided flatness. So I'll need to fit in an appointment for Orthotics soon. Also found out insurances don't always cover helmets. We are also renovating our new home so currently trying to find painters, floor people, and granite people. These people need to see the property so we have to schedule estimates with our realtor to help us continue to get into the home for them to measure. And all of this takes money that we want to use wisely.  I also know I need to be looking for a job in the back of my mind, which means I need to be thinking about childcare too. And above all I am caring for a 4-month old. He's only been around for 17 weeks. I'm still a baby mama who's trying to figure it all out.

These are all wonderful things. "Rich" people things too, I know we are blessed.  But its a lot. The world tells us to spin it around and around in our minds while Jesus tells us to rest in today. I can't rest though God, I'm busy remember?  Rest Kate, He says again. Rest in today and the fact that you are not alone.

Its actually quite a statement for someone to tell you that you are in fact not on your own. And its an entirely another powerful statement for you to say in return, "I believe you."  I think God never leaves us whether we believe or not, but I also believe he wants us to believe in his promise too. I think he knows we need this assurance and it saddens him when we walk as if their are only one set of prints.

I can't get it all done today and that's ok because I was never meant to. Today I'll pack up books, just books, play with Knox, and make pizza for dinner all the while knowing something greater than I is holding my hand and my future.

Body Shaming... myself

I gave birth 11 weeks ago tomorrow and wouldn't you know it I already believe my body should be back to pre-baby weight and then some. I thought I'd give birth, breast feed, and only drink vegetable juice. Ugh...no so at all. Most days I think about taking Knox out for errands just so I won't eat for an hour.  I couldn't swing breast feeding with having to take anxiety meds and most days I dream of oreos. I seriously think about them a lot. That yummy cream in between chocolaty goodness. I want to eat like 7 ALL THE TIME. (Heavy Sigh) So sometimes I eat 3 and then later stand on the scale or look at myself from all angles with disgust. I still have a baby bump, but its a fake one. Not the cute belly you had at 3-4 months pregnant. This one is squishy and feels like a trampoline made of teddy bear stuffing. I fear its here to stay.

So in between the thoughts of oreos, bikinis, and body disgust I try to remember something else. I just had a BABY.  I've been through a lot and I'm surviving new motherhood. I should be proud I even showered today or that I made my bed and put the pillows on. And dang it I can eat an oreo or two. But seriously, God can't be pleased with me hating my body and putting unrealistic expectations on myself to be a SELF magazine girl.  I also know he probably was sad when I didn't have a baby at all and I still body shamed myself.

This topic is tired and the articles, blogs, and bible verses of loving yourself still don't seem to penetrate women body views. I don't have the answer either.  But maybe a start is grace for yourself. Maybe we eat one oreo, hug ourselves, pray for strength to carry on with a Godly mindset of health.  And its ok if the oreo is double-stuffed.

Little One

I just put you down for your nap and after swaddling you tight you looked up at me and smiled. Precious little one, how I love you so. 

Our days are filled with play mats, musical elephants you haven't quite grasped yet, and bottles and snuggles.  Daddy and I praise you for lifting your neck and getting through tummy time though we know you hate it.  And then you sleep again and a new day begins.  So this is having a baby, this is having you. My mother told me this would be the hardest job I'd ever love. She was right. I am tired but my insides are also all mush. Filled with love I've never known before. 

Soon you'll be 3 months old and I'll wonder where the 12 weeks went as winter goes to sleep and spring arrives. But I know this won't be the last time I will wonder where time has hidden from me. I am old enough to know that time will always hide from me and you will always be one day older. One day, one month, and one year and I will be powerless to stop it. You'll grow up and away from me. And this is as it should be. But little one I am already sad about this. How sappy I am. 

So today I will remember that you always smell like baby lotion. That your hands are cold and your feet are warm and how this is confusing to me. That you don't like hats. That you smile when Jeff talks to you and you talk back when he sings.  That when you're the happiest you show it by pulling your legs up and grin until your eyes disappear. And that you love music and get quiet when we play it. Oh, how I love you so. 

Sleep tight little one. I'm glad you're still little. 

When things are wonderful...

Over that mountain and waving goodbye to the valley. Phew. That sucked.  Postpartum icky-ness was NO joke. I am by no means out of the woods because life will always be life and anxiety has a way of saying hello and dropping in for tea. But it no longer defines me and more importantly it is not defining my days and minutes. God is SOOOOOO good. Which brings me to my thoughts lately....

When you are coming out of a dark patch and life is good we, Christ-followers, tend to not desperately need Him as much. Or is it just me? After I had Knox I prayed like water for a parched soul constantly. I begged God for relief and hope and peace and so on. I promised his Glory for my answered prayer. I even currently seek out others with postpartum to encourage them. I really do not want to forget what God has done because I honestly feel joy. My sweet boy makes my heart smile and my days are filled light and joy. O Happy Day! But have I prayed with such diligence or talked to him about my day with such fervor as before? Well no... I have to admit I have even sat down at the end of the day and thought to myself I haven't even talked to Jesus today.  I don't even know where my Bible is or my prayer journal. Collecting dust underneath the nightstand?  Did I just treat one of God's greatest lessons for me like a vending machine...again? Why do I do that?

I wrote a poem once in high school asking God to sear upon my heart my lesson in order for me to never forget his faithfulness. Apparently this has been an issue for awhile and I am not sure of the answer.  Perhaps it is having a thankful heart in all we do. Jesus Calling, a popular devotional, writes of having a thankful spirit a lot. The author believes that thankfulness keeps a Christian in  constant communion with Christ, which ultimately becomes a theme woven throughout our days when things are wonderful. And maybe just maybe this thankful heart will be what reminds us that God is faithful and good when valleys return.

I am in love

When I look at my post below and how I feel as I type now I am quiet. But I'll try again as I tried then to speak into words what my heart is saying.  I shall begin with my utmost for His Highest.  In the midst of a trying time when nothing makes sense God did not sweep in and save the day because there was no sweeping in. He was with me when I pushed my beautiful baby into this world and he has yet to leave my side.  And over the next few days and weeks when I was pretty sure I was crazy, like legit crazy, He was there.  In fact when I begged him to take away the anxiety and He didn't in my timing something changed in me, something I hope always stays.  It was a choice I made. A choice to believe in my faith and to believe that God is good even when I am not.  I think about the worship hymn lyric, "I have decided to follow Jesus, no turning back."  So yes, no turning back.

 (photo cred: Joy Cannis)

Each day has been better than the last and God has given me peace to begin motherhood. I am absolutely in love with my baby. Sometimes I can't wait till nap time is over so I can see his smile. I even rock him to sleep sometimes, even though Babywise says not to, because I know he won't be little for long. And gone will be the days that he chooses my cuddles over playing with toys and exploring this world.  Oh dear, I may cry thinking about it.  My sweet Knox, I love you!  

A good friend of mine that has known more pain than I know reminded me that I was chosen as his mommy. Me. I was chosen by God. Another reason to know I am not alone. I love you too God. Thank you for hope. 

"They are Weak and He is Strong"

I'm not sure how to start this post...mostly because I am still processing how I feel.  I can't promise this post will be articulate or that maybe I should wait until the words are clearer in my mind but I made a promise and I want to keep it.  I promised God I would give him all the glory.  So here is my story, my current story and perhaps a lot of my past as well.

I have anxiety. I have depression. They are battles I have known in the past and mountains I have crossed and tried not to look back upon.  I hate them both. And I spend a lot of my time convincing myself not to beat my mind up for what it cannot help. For those that travel these roads with me know this is not an easy battle nor a downhill journey.  Its hard. Just plain hard. And I guess I wonder why I didn't see what was coming as something that may be harder on me because of them.  I just didn't know to ask.

3 weeks ago I delivered a healthy baby boy. It was a tough delivery of 24 hours of labor and 3 hours of pushing with a worn-off epidural. But alas, he was here.  It was not magical, it was hard. Hollywood lied.  I have never used more energy in all my life or prayed harder.  Most of it was a blur. Exhaustion is a powerful thing to behold. But labor ended and then life began. 

I was beyond excited to be a mom. I had been counting down the days and minutes for 9 months or really since I was an early teenager.  "Wife and Mom," were always my answers to what I hoped the future held. And here I was with a new baby and a great husband. The future was here. But so was the cracking dam.

I awoke the next morning after delivery and have every day since with an overwhelming sense of anxiety.  My days are currently filled with bouts of panic, overwhelming thoughts of caring for a human, fears of it never getting better, guilt over not bonding as I had pictured, and just plain exhaustion.  Oh and some good ol' stomach pains too.  Something I had wanted for so long had become something I questioned was a good thing for me. And that thought itself absolutely wrecked me.  My sweet little innocent baby deserved the world and my stupid mind wouldn't let me give it to him.

I have become aggressive in fixing it. Doctors, God, counseling sessions, and desperate prayers.  On the days I feel like fighting my thoughts are that this has got to go and quick or I'll be swallowed whole.  But where is God when the trees stay still though you beg them to sway.  He's still here even when I don't understand. And my God, I want to understand.  And though I don't... here is what I do know:

I am still weak and He is still strong and I'm still here.

Still Pregnant

My baby is due today.  And since I'm here at home drinking Folger's coffee (it doesn't taste good) and blogging I think its safe to assume that this is a regular Tuesday. Pregnancy has been an interesting adventure of emotions, fears, and faith. I found out at 3 weeks along that I was pregnant so I can assure you that I have felt every day of this 9 (really 10) month stretch of time.  Everything Jeff and I have done has been associated with this day.  There are fill in the blank months/days till January 27th so we must do this fill in the blank task. And here we are.  It's finished, my son has cooked through. Kitchen is closed.

My mind has been easily swayed to believe that today is now incredibly anti climatic. But I must fight this and remember.... Remember lots of things really. I truly believe the only way to be thankful and invite God in to our lives is to stop and reflect.  The world can make this impossible which is why devotional time, prayer, writing and so forth are easily lost in the recesses of our minds. Life moves fast. Ferris Bueller said so.   So here are a few of my reflections:

1) Dollar store pregnancy tests are just as accurate as the expensive ones.  I will always love that second line appearing on my .99 test more than anything.

2) The sound of a heartbeat coming from something the size of a lego man is astounding. I had such a hard time with this one. I struggled to believe that God would give me a good thing.  Anxiety is so evil in making you fear the worst. But there it was, the thump thump thump of a gift.

3) Nausea. Ugh, this is the worst. Everyday walking around hoping you don't hurl on something or someone. In my case I never vommed...I just had that feeling that I was about to. This went on for 20 weeks.  Jeff once asked me to rally and push through it one night. That conversation did not go well.   He's been an angel ever since. See, marriage enriched.

4) Friends. There have been some incredible women in my life that have loved me and our baby so much with showers, dinners, and walks/convos etc.  That kind of love is humbling. Oh how I love you each.

5)Sleeping... Apparently sleeping on your back is no good because it doesn't present the best blood flow so that leaves you with your sides. This was and is super hard for me. I truly believe my baby hates me on my side because he hates being on his side. He kicks like a dog trying to get under a fence and run away. I constantly switch sides and he lets me know, "no, thank you mom."  I lay awake most nights on pinterest or playing solitaire. I also truly feel for my shoulders and hips. The bigger I've become the more weight these poor bones have had to withhold.
* Still trying to find the silver lining in this one but the sleep you do get is magical and for that I am thankful.

6) Tests and scares.  I had a few of these. Fluid found on his neck and being suddenly at risk for pre-term labor were my top scares.  What if something was wrong with him plagued me.  Was I strong enough to care for a child with special needs?  Did I do something to cause it?  Where are you God? These are tough questions for any mom and you run through all the scenarios in your mind.  In the end you have to trust that God is in control even when you feel lost.  I reached out to anything to gain my bearings and God had to once again teach me to let go. This is a battle you will not win. So I learned to stick my white flag in the ground and go take a nap.

7) The sudden desire to have him stay in because omg I ain't no mom. I like to sleep in, go to target any time I choose, and not have to worry with pediatricians and school and having to remember to be responsible for something for 18+ years.  My parents didn't get rid of me till I was 29.  I can't do this.  And then the subtle prodding from the Holy Spirit that Yes, I can.  That it will not be easy but it will be a privilege and a calling. This is a great feeling.

So there are a few of my reflections. I know there are more but I need to do laundry before this baby comes. It might be the last time I actually finish the laundry.  God is faithful and I know babies do actually come out. So I'll wait. He's worth it and so have the last 9 months been.

7 weeks to go...

I just listened to an incredible sermon from my pastor about living in such a away that you exist solely on the basis that one is never in control of his or her circumstances but instead only a receiver of God's gift to them. Bottom line: your life was never yours to begin with so live humbly before Him and for Him. He challenged us to think about what it could mean to live that way, to actually view life from this standpoint.

This got me thinking about the life within me and the life I've known that is about to change forever. Yesterday Jeff and I each had private moments of freak outs thinking about a newborn in our graces in just 7 WEEKS!! We are going to be responsible for a life next month, no biggie just a few weeks away. Commence increase heart rate and balmy palms.

In my previous posts I have shared that it frightens me that I would be enough for this baby. Will I know what to do and will I be a wonderful Christian mother that sails through the good and bad. The fear has recently taken on a new mask about what I cannot control, no thanks to the public.  I have heard countless stories of rare heart diseases, strange viruses, and birth defects undetected before birth...courtesy of facebook, strangers, and acquaintances.  Wonderful, after 40 weeks of gestation I have no control over what happens to my baby. Never mind the foods I abstained from, vitamins I consumed, and healthy reports from doctor, my baby might not be okay or worse.  I know this is an extreme worry and no doubt more extreme due to my anxiety but nevertheless it is there, just a nagging thought hanging out in the recesses of my mind.

I hate this fear but the good news is that I get to decide what to do with it.  My God, the same God I prayed to over 8 months ago to entrust me with a baby, is still the same God that entrusts me to carry on with this pregnancy and overcome what may.  This precious little baby boy was never mine to begin with, just a gift. I am so excited to be a mom and my prayer is to live humbly and believe what God believes me to be for Him and my son.

15 weeks to go until I hold my baby and freak out

I wish I wrote more.
I wish I read my Bible more....like more than once a week.
I wish I wasn't so selfish.
I wish I put my husband first above myself.
I wish I could remember to take the clothes out of the dryer to fold them.
I wish a lot of things...

For some reason lately I keep thinking I need to get my act together so that when my son arrives I'll be the graceful mom that smiles all the time and leans on God's goodness and never freaks out.  I'm of course concerned about new mom stuff like feedings, fevers, getting him to sleep without creating bad habits of rocking, night lights, and etc. But I've started to think about what kind of example I'll be.  Will I demand perfection because I'm pretty sure my future two year-old will not grace me with it. Will I expect him to become a Christian simply because his Dad and I are... without owning and living out daily what it is to believe in Jesus and what he did.  Eeek, I'm scared.  Is there a book on Amazon for me??

The truth is 15 weeks from now I won't be ready. Not even close. I can't crash course mommyhood and being a good Christian.  I'm just going to have to start where I know to go. The place my mom taught me to go, the altar.  An altar doesn't have to be your childhood memory of the 3-5 steps that led up to the pulpit either. It's you alone in your car, sitting on the couch staring out the window, or amidst a room full of people (I'd recommend alone time though for those of us that distract easily).  It's just a prayer to start again and give God back the reins.  I'm scared out of my mind but 6 months ago God entrusted me to be a mom.  Me, a mom?! I think I'll start there and thank God.

I can't wait to meet you little guy. I promise to try to remember that the only way to be a good mom to you is to start again every morning at the altar.

I love you.

Is it still beating?

Three months ago I prayed a small prayer on the way home from work. It went a little something like this:

"God, I would love to be a mom and I want to be a mom like yesterday. But I know you know best and I want your will more and I trust your timing."

And then two days later I took a test. A test I had already taken over the weekend that had failed to produce two lines. I secretly didn't believe it was positive and I was already mad at myself for wasting another test. This time the test revealed a faint second line. And there it was, the beginning of another journey of trust for me. 

If I thought anxiety would float away as excitement and joy moved in I was quite mistaken.  It felt as if while this tiny life began to grow inside me so did fear.  I began to pray and then turn around and worry the baby would leave. And if it did I was powerless to stop it. Anxiety is about control and my baby was out of my control. Sure I could take vitamins, drink water and eat veggies; but what made my womb special? Why did my baby get to stay and others fade away from wonderful women? 

I remember feeling this way when I dated Jeff. I wondered why such a great guy would stick around and check off the items of the godly man list I made years before. It seemed I couldn't quite grasp good things from our Lord...for me. 

On our 8 week appointment I wasn't as excited about the ultrasound as I was the fetal heartbeat. I needed to hear that beat. I needed proof because my trust was failing. I wished things were different but I felt weak in my faith. I felt like a failure already.  The beat was strong and healthy and it felt like a breath of fresh air. I wish we had recorded it.  My sweet baby.

A month later at the 12 week appointment I was desperately needing that beat again. DANG IT! Why couldn't I just trust?

But I can't help but think this is refining me. It has to be some hard thing I am enduring for my pearl in the end.  I know some women sit back and pinterest while planning their gender reveal parties, but I am not of that breed. Pregnancy has been a little tougher for me.  Raw, honest, organic trust is not achieved in one heartbeat. Learning is infinite.  

I pray my trust stretches a little more each time I hit the ground after a fall and stand again.  I love you sweet baby for showing me to trust. Keep beating. 

Sometimes you don't...

Sometimes you don't get the job. The house loan falls through. The pregnancy test is negative...again. The relationship ends. The check bounces. Or fill in the blank. 

Sometimes you're not sure what to do at a crossroad so you just stand still.  Maybe for days. And you may not even know what to say to God. All you can seem to remember about prayer is the dinner table song that preschoolers sing. Desperate for control, you weigh all the options, or paths, and try to make a wise decision. But really you just want a quick decision because standing still and feeling the pain of what you thought would come through just appears too much to shoulder at the moment. And it is. 

I don't know much about God. I'm trying to learn his character. He is too big for me, but in my wanderings I am reminded of scripture. It's all I have right now. I don't hear God audibly in my current status, so my heart reminds me of the Bible. 

Life is hard and sometimes in the have nots you remind yourself that strength is not yours to muster up. It is grown with the watering of your soul by a God that promises a perfect tread in high places. For me, strength will come by sitting still with him, writing, listening to his worship, and reading the same passage over and over again. And maybe a coffee, a good sugary one. ;)

    Though the fig tree should not blossom,

nor fruit be on the vines,

    the produce of the olive fail

and the fields yield no food,

    the flock be cut off from the fold

and there be no herd in the stalls,

yet I will rejoice in the Lord;

I will take joy in the God of my salvation.

God, the Lord, is my strength;

he makes my feet like the deer's;

he makes me tread on my high places. Habakkuk 3:17-19.

Preschool

It has been 3 weeks since I quit my job and can you believe it that I am not in training at my new job or meeting co-workers and attending meetings? Instead I am getting caught up on laundry and trying to fight away the anxiety of we're going poor.  It has been radio silence in the dream job department. Honestly, I am unsure of how I feel. Sometimes I'm excited with all the free time and sometimes I feel like a loser because my greatest feat of the day was running out to get Q-tips because we were out. And then other times I am fearful that I am missing something that God is asking me to do.

He is still here though, I feel him in my midst and I know that Jeff and Kate are not on the back burner of his "provide for" list. Currently I have a California raisin stuck in my minnetonka loafer. I saw it today randomly when I lifted my shoe...and then I just smiled and left it. The raisin was part of  a snack of a precious two-year-old in the preschool I am subbing for. It is also a funny little symbol of God's grace.

I have the current privilege of a part-time gig in our church preschool for staff member's children. I am assisting in the toddler room. So far my days have been filled with wiping noses, sitting quietly during nap time and making sure no one eats dirt. And lots of hugs. Their innocence is pretty convincing that all is well for a few hours. Yesterday I was asked by a little girl to repeatedly race her down the slide. My body length was the slide in entirety and yet she giggled and said, "again...again Kate." Clearly she doesn't understand losing yet and I love her for it.

This contract job may not be my future, but for a few hours a week I honestly get to see Christ in little chubby faces. They are reminders that I am being taken care of, even if I'm supposedly one of the teachers.

And we're off...kind of.

Well, I've gone and done it. I've committed the crazy act that makes baby boomers shake their heads and widen their eyes. I've quit my job...without a new one to turn to. And deep down I think I should have been a baby boomer, I certainly behave like one. Be careful and life on 5 are my mottos.  If it isn't safe then it's not worth the worry.  And then I went and wrote that scary little notice of departure. 

Let me back up; no, I am not pregnant nor moving out of state. I am not sick and need personal time. I am still Kate and completely capable of continuing to manage volunteers for a pediatric hospital. So what is my problem? I work for the #6 peds hospital in the nation and I'm leaving.  This is not a move for the anxious and I think we all know the name of my blog. Lots of fears crossed my mind in this decision. Money? Health Insurance?  Dreams of owning a home this year? Ramen noodles every night from now on? What will I do next? What if a job does not materialize on my time table?  These are valid concerns. Please know that none of these are lost on me. But yet here I stand. 

God is so crazy and beautiful.  I have no idea what is next and I have spent a lot of time journaling, praying, and staring off into traffic about this. I know God is moving and I have taken a giant leap of hope. Daily I battle fear but I feel the warmth of comfort too.  I am excited to see what is next and excited to see what is now. I know that He is taking care of me, as he always has.  I am praying through some new opportunities and I am joyful in the yes's and the no's. 

I have set sail for a new journey; I'm just not entirely sure what kind of wind it is yet. And I am ok with that.

my year

Dear Kate,

2013 will be a big year for you even though it may not appear as though. There will be a lot of changes, ups, downs and all of those seasonally things that make us grow.

You will still be inside the first year of marriage and learning what the heck it means to be a good wife. If the laundry being finished is something to be mastered or should you just let it pile as you sit and spend time with your husband and best friend. You will wonder when he needs alone time or if you should press when he states he is fine. You will wonder how to juggle friends and the urgency to just want to be alone with him. He will teach you the art of being you and how that is not only enough but perfect. He will teach you this because he believes what God believes. And then you will love him a lot more. You will fight and wonder what to do to make it magical again and then you'll learn that magic is not the goal, but instead forgiveness. You will wonder a lot about many things and that's ok. Marriage is not be achieved in year 1 or 50.  Just enjoy it Kate, its a gift.

You will finally go to the stomach doctor and answer the question, "how long has your stomach hurt?" with an embarrassing answer, "30 years." And then you'll have an ultrasound and find out that the tiny green organ called the gall bladder must come out. It is riddled with stones. And then you'll take pain pills for the first time in your life and close your eyes to a star galaxy. No really, you'll be touching stars and then you won't take the pills anymore because that's scary. Please also know that the surgery will not work, your stomach will still hurt, just a little less. And you won't lose any weight.

You will begin to wrestle with the question about what is exactly you want out of life and then you'll ponder ending chapters and beginning new ones.  You'll put yourself out there and wonder about new careers and then you'll hold your heart after it is burned and question what God is up to. This will be a difficult one and one that does not resolve at the year's end. But that's ok because I think, maybe just maybe, its one of the best trips you'll take with God. And you may even learn to trust a bit more. My God, do you need it Kate.

Your heart will sigh heavy as you watch your family suit up and face a new winter. It's cold harsh winds will almost seem to much to watch but then you'll see a new light too. You'll see strength and perseverance. Pain is hard, just hard. No one is amazing at pain, no one sails through it to a graduation of new horizons. Grace is the only way through.

2013 will be both good and difficult. And it will be of worth. I suppose if I could write this letter to the Kate of last January this is what I might have said.

Rope Holder

I need God. I need him all the flippin' time.  I am a mess without him. I am a mess held by him. Sometimes my anxiety is so vast to hold that I can barely whisper, "God, save me."  Lately this thought has been more apparent than ever.  Call it the peaks and valleys of life but when you're in the valley you start to think about things.  It is probably one of the only perks of camping out in the desert; I think people learn more with less. It's what they call clinging to anything just to feel the sensation of holding. Makes you feel safe and that maybe...maybe someone is holding onto the other half of the "rope" and you are not alone.   

The entertainment industry has made millions on this concept in conflict turned feel-good in the form of songs, movies, drama TV and so on.  I think it resonates with the human spirit because people need to hang onto something.  We were made to need.  And I think right now in my season of life I am realizing that I need God in the times of buds and fruit as well as barrenness and gray. 

One of my favorite songs by Faith Hill is called "When the lights go down."  The basic gist of the song is that we all find out who we are when the lights go down, when it's just you. I love my husband and my family and closest friends, they are amazing cheerleaders but they cannot sit with me in the dark. They cannot fill up the holes of fear, worry, anxiousness, and insecurity. That job belongs to one alone and when the lights go down I think you choose a savior or yourself.  Sadly most of us choose the latter and disappointment most definitely ensues.  I burnt just add water and oil cookies last week, I CANNOT be in charge of my life. 

I want to choose my savior over and over again. I want to know that it's ok to need Him. That I don't have to be perfect and then to actually walk that talk of loving my imperfections because my rope holder does.  I just need Him, that's all.  And it's ok for you too ya know

One Year

Well, we made it. One year married.  It's been amazing. No really, it truly has. We were told by "they" that the first year was the most difficult and while it did come with obstacles it was way more fun than troublesome.  

For some reason, we'll get to that later, God decided to bless me with the best guy.  I'm not sure I understood what a spiritual leader was until Jeff. Of course I used to demand my boyfriends to be one but heaven forbid they ask me to define it.  We were just kids trying to be adults and pretending to protect each other's hearts.  None of those relationships prepared me for marriage and or what healthy roles should look like.  Even pre-marital counseling couldn't really paint the picture clear enough. 

A year ago I had phrases and vows of submitting, Christ loving the church, for better or for worse and so on swirling around in my mind. I was scared that day I uttered those powerful words because I didn't know what they meant yet. All I knew was that I loved someone and I trusted God to take the next step. And then the next step happened, quickly. I was a wife and Jeff was a husband. Boom!

I'd like to think that Jeff read some special book about being married that I wasn't privy too but that is not the case. I think he just decided to love well by drawing from his own experience of Christ loving him.  I have watched him pray for us, hug me on dark days, make me my favorite dinner, go for walks even though he was tired, get frustrated with me and then turn around and tell me he loves me, make the bed because I like it, and a million other things. He says the kindest things when I believe I look the worst and laughs at all my silly jokes.  He even took me out for donuts after we left the doctor and no one was sure my sight would come back. He said I needed to try the best donut in town and after I told him I couldn't see the flavors behind the glass counter he explained each donut to me.  Jeff loves well. 

This past weekend we went to Savannah to celebrate our anniversary. It was one of those trips that seem magical and you come back convinced that you're moving there.  We laughed so hard while inside jokes were born. I fell in love all over again.  At the end of the trip I was standing in the shower thinking about Jeff and how much I loved him and the Holy Spirit whispered gently in my mind that Jeff's love for me was only a tiny smidge of how God feels about me.  This got me.  Depression and anxiety will tell you a ton of lies but the most powerful will be that you might not have been a good idea to God.  That maybe on the umpteenth day of disaster and dread you might actually start believing the lie of worthlessness.  SO NOT TRUE. 

God is real and you were always a good idea.  I am thankful for my smidge of love through my husband as a reminder of the Great Keeper of my Heart.