Better Than a Desert

I hope living with me is better than living in a desert.

This morning I was stirred by the words of Proverbs 21:19:

"Better to live in a desert than with a quarrelsome and ill-tempered wife."

In general, I think my husband arrives each evening to a happy family and inviting home. I do my best to listen intentionally as he tells me about his day, offer encouragement and praise when warranted, and then share honestly about the joys and challenges I encountered while we were a part. I know that love is an active choice, not a passive feeling. So I seek to love my husband in action and in word.

It can be easy to critique other people's marriages...how they bicker about everything, lack appreciation, or try to control one another. I can be glad that I'm not like her, and then start to feel pretty good about myself. Proud about what a fantastic little wife I am.

But I am not perfect. Not by a long shot.

I am not immune to being defensive, responding with a blatant edge to my tone, and even being plain rude. I have allowed tiredness to be an excuse for not being kind. I've knit picked about things that don't really matter and cared more about being right than being loving.

But this is not the kind of woman I want to be. This is not the kind of wife my husband deserves.

I want to be more like this. And this. And this.

No, I don't have to be perfect. And neither do you.

Just make sure living with you IS better than a desert.

Reviving Wisdom

After days (or weeks) of letting TV, dishes, laundry, sleep, paperwork, grocery shopping, and Facebook consume any quiet, kid-free moment I had, I was finally still enough for long enough to hear God whisper to my heart, "Come, be with me." And I was just weary enough not to fight it. I knew I needed to obey.

I opened my Bible and read Psalm 19. These words were meant for my heart.

The law of the Lord is perfect,
reviving the soul.
The statutes of the Lord are trustworthy,
making wise the simple.

My soul NEEDS to be revived. I want to feel alive. I want to walk in cadence with my God, knowing that each step I take is directed by him and he is right there beside me. No more trying to be super-mom, -wife, and -friend on my own strength. No more sulking in the hum-drum of daily life. I was created for a purpose. I want to live life to the full and be fully me.

I NEED to be made wise. Disciplining a boundary-testing toddler. Saving money for my family. Finding the balance between seeking community and seeking simplicity. Getting out yet staying rested. How to love my husband, train my children, and do it well. Yes, wisdom for all these small decisions that make up my life...that's what I need.

Will my soul be revived by watching one more episode of America's Next Top Model? Will I find wisdom in reading one more status update?

No, I'll find what I'm really looking for, what I really need in the perfect, trustworthy Word of God.

10, 20, 30...SHRED!

I'm taking on a 30 day fitness challenge and I'm inviting you to join with me!

Last week I was over at (in)courage and saw this post by Jen from Balancing Beauty and Bedlam. She talked about creative ways to build community, one of which was working out.

Fitness has definitely been top of mind for me lately. Since giving birth to my second son 12 weeks ago, I have been eager to shed these prego pounds and get back to feeling like me. I've been watching what I eat and taking long walks while pushing the boys in the mega-heavy double stroller. But I'm still not getting the results I want fast enough. So when I saw Jen's invitation to 30 days of fitness, I knew this was the kick start I needed.

So what is it and why did I choose it?

WHAT: It's a workout DVD by Jillian Michaels called 30 Day Shred, which combines strength conditioning, cardio, and abs.

WHY: First, I have 10 more pounds to lose to get back to my pre-prego weight and into my favorite pair of jeans (you know the ones that are comfortable and figure flattering...oh, how I miss them!) Second, I can commit to 20 minutes a day...as a busy mom of two under two, any more just isn't realistic. And third, 30 days is long enough to get real results, but short enough that I knowI can follow through. (I like to set myself up for success.) Plus, I know that fitting even 20 minutes of intense exercise into my rather intense life would be challenging, so I liked the idea of joining a community of other women who were doing it, too. And when I found the DVD on Amazon.com for $5.99 it sealed the deal!

Today I endured the first day of shredding. It felt good (and bad) to feel my out-of-shape muscles burn, wipe some sweat from my brow, and know that I am one day closer to a do-my-body-good accomplishment!

I'm sharing this with you all NOT to toot my own horn about buying a silly workout video and doing it for one day. I share this with you because I NEED accountability, and I'm thinking maybe some of you might, too. I'll be updating you at least a couple times with my progress over the next 30 days.

PLEASE feel free to jump in and join me any time!
Only 20 minutes a day away from a healthier you, me, WE!

Keenly Aware

Have you ever noticed that we are all more keenly aware of our own imperfections than anyone else is?

A friend and her son recently came over for a play date and remarked how clean my house was. She jokingly asked Noah if he was sure he actually lived here because she was certain it was way too tidy to be the home of a toddler.

My house, clean? I was keenly aware of the breakfast dishes in the sink, the layer of grime on the refrigerator shelves, the rust ring in the bathtub, and how well my tile floor hides dirt.

On Saturday I went to my childhood best friend's engagement party. Several people commented on how good I looked for just having a baby two and a half months ago. A single gal told me I must share my slim-down secrets with her if she ever has a child.

My body, slim? I was keenly aware how the waistband of the only nice pair of pants I could squeeze into was digging into my soft tummy each time I exhaled.

I entertained a new friend for lunch last week and she complimented me on how beautifully decorated my home was. She enjoyed the selection and placement of art and accessories in every room.

My home, decorated? I was keenly aware of the huge blank wall above the fireplace that has been begging for a canvas to cover it since we moved in over a year ago.

Perhaps it's time to transfer my keen awareness to something other than my imperfections. Maybe I should be more keenly aware of how blessed I am to have a home to weclome friends into and an abled body that has given birth to two precious boys.

Because, really, no one has a perfect home or a perfect body. (Except maybe a celebrity with a professional decorator, cleaning crew, personal trainer, and private chef. And even then, she is probably keenly aware of her imperfect marriage, unhealthy self image, and lack of hope.)

So here's to being keenly aware that perfection isn't as important as perspective!

Little Moments

The way she holds your little finger
The way she coos when you are near
The way you calm her every whimper
And cast out all her fear

The way he giggles with excitement
The way he cries when you’re apart
The way his eyes light up with wonder
And his smile melts your heart

It’s in these little moments
Shared just between each other
That make you know for certain
You were meant to be a mother

Gentle Shepherd

Since yesterday I told you about one of my favorite bedtime stories, today I want to share another beloved ritual from my childhood...the bedtime song.

After my mom finished reading our stories, she would turn out the lights and sing a song. My favorite was Gentle Shepherd. As she sang, she rubbed my back. Her soothing strokes mingled with the peaceful melody calmed my heart and mind as I drifted off to sleep.

Gentle shepherd,
come and lead us
for we need you
to help us find our way.
Gentle shepherd,
come and feed us
for we need you
for strength from
day to day.

There's no other
we can turn to
who can help us
face another day.
Gentle shepherd,
come and lead us
for we need you
to help us find our way.

And now I sing this song to my son. Every night I rub his back as we rock and sing.

I have a terrible voice. Truly awful. And I'm not exaggerating. But to my sweet little boy and to my loving God, the notes that I miss matter not because they hear the praise and prayer of my heart.

A Special Place

Like most kids growing up, I LOVED bedtime stories. Actually, I loved stories any time! But bedtime was always extra special...a time of quieting down and listening to my mom's soothing voice.

My sister, Mary, and I would sit in our matching twin beds nestled in the nook created by the double peaked ceiling of our shared room in the house my great grandfather built. My mom would perch between us and take our bedtime story requests.

More often than not, we chose The Random House Book of Poetry for Children. There were silly poems and thoughtful poems. Poems that made us giggle and poems that made us shriek. One of my favorite poems was one that made my heart feel comforted and glad.

Home! You're Where It's Warm Inside
by Jack Prelutsky

Home! You are a special place;
you're where I wake and wash my face,
brush my teeth and comb my hair,
change my socks and underwear,
clean my ears and blow my nose,
try on all my parent's clothes.

Home! You're where it's warm inside,
where my tears are gently dried,
where I'm comforted and fed,
where I'm forced to go to bed,
where there's always love to spare;
Home! I'm glad that you are there.

Now that I'm the mom, I'm inspired to create this kind of home for my kids. A place where they will always know that they are loved. A place they'll be glad to be.

As someone who struggles with perfectionism, it can be easy to allow the to-do's of running a home to take precedent over the get-to's of raising a family.

I get to kiss the boo boo's and dry the tears. I get to prepare healthy meals and give cozy hugs. I get to be a teacher, playmate, and encourager.

So day by day, I'm learning to let go of being perfect and embrace being present.

I'm Mommy and I get to make Home a Special Place!

It spills out of my eyes.

Sometimes I'm overcome by how much I love my boys.

Of course, I always knew (in an intellectual, of-course-this-is-logical kind of way) that I would love my own children more than any other.

But sometimes it surprises me how deep and fierce and pure and joyful my love for them is. I've only been their mother for a relatively short time. But each day I know my boys is another day I love them more.

Sometimes my love is too much for my heart to hold. It spills out of eyes. It creates the goofiest grin that I couldn't erase from my face if someone offered me a thousand bucks to do so.

Noah and Elias are my sons. I delight in them. I love them just for who they are.

In loving them I can't help but have a greater understanding of the Father's love for me. It's profound, really.

Watching Noah play or Eli sleep makes my heart smile. In the same way, God's heart is filled with joy just watching me be me. He loves me not for what I do but for who I am.

Noah, 21 months old



Elias, 2 months old

I could ask for no greater blessing than being a mom.

I'm blessed to love fully.

I'm blessed to be fully loved.

The LORD delights in those who fear him,

who put their hope in his unfailing love.

Psalm 147:11

And So We Walk

My walking shoes are therapeutic.

They make me turn off the TV and breathe in fresh air.

They make me forget my tiredness and feel my strength.

As a friend who is in my same stage of life so eloquently said, "walking represents my sanity."

I strap Elias in the Bjorn and buckle Noah in the Bob and we walk.

Sometimes we walk with a friend. This daily dose of adult conversation refreshes my heart and makes the miles melt.

Other times we walk alone. Just me and my boys, my inner dialogue, and my prayers to God.

I don't always feel like walking. But when I walk I always feel good.

It's a chance to soak up the sun. A chance to smile at a stranger.

Walking calms a fussy baby, contains a rambunctious toddler, and gets me one step closer to fitting in my jeans.

And so we walk...

Who's Got Mail?

Confession. Growing up I had this quirky habit: I had to open the mailbox before I opened the front door...every time. It didn't matter if it was a Sunday, a holiday, midnight, or if I knew the mail had already come and I was even the one that had retrieved it. Every time I stood I stood before our green front door, that black metal box hanging on the rough brick wall beckoned me to open it.

What if I missed a letter the first time? What if there was a hand delivery? were the questions that continuously came to mind. But what propelled my irrational behavior most was my love for the ever-treasured personal notecard.

I could pick a hand written letter out of a mailbox lineup in my sleep! The slightly square shape of the envelope, address scrawled in familiar penmanship, and sturdy weight of a greeting card tucked inside. There's just nothing better.

Nothing better than knowing someone thought of you. Someone cared enough to pick up a pen, find a stamp, and lick an envelope. My first summer in college I worked in Kings Canyon National Park. There was no cell service, no Internet access, and a single payphone for all the employees to share. While it was one of the most challenging summer's of my life, it was also one of the best, in part because snail mail was my main form of communication with family and friends. I cherished every card I got!

In these (wonderful) days of texting, email, and facebook, the blessing of a written "just because" card is often lost. I admit that as much as I love receiving a handwritten note and as much as I love writing, the busyness of life and the tyranny of the urgent have put my card writing days on the back back burner.

Until now...

In honor of National Day of Encouragement (today!), one of my favorite blogs, (in)courage, recently gave readers ten free greeting cards from DaySpring's new Hope and Encouragement line. I was one of the lucky recipients of these beautifully designed, refreshingly thoughtful and authentic cards, and I can't wait to send them out!

 Maybe today is the day you'll get a special note of encouragement. Or maybe it's the day you should send one.

Stock photo courtesy of clshearin