Why You Need Margin, Mama

I was recently reading a poll of sorts in a Facebook group that asked the ladies there how often they have time away from their kids. And by that, she didn't mean the hour after they've gone to bed where you sprawl out on the couch with Netflix or Instagram. (Although all the praise hands for that hour in the day, am I right?) And she didn't mean the 15 minutes before they wake up where you chug your coffee and speed-read Beth Moore so you can check "quiet time" off your list for the day.

What this question was getting at the heart of was margin. This friend of mine was asking a group of trusted, wise women how often they create margin in their lives in order to get things done or relax or pursue passions outside of the family. 

The answers astounded me.

The majority of the women who responded had NONE. Other than those 15 minutes before the kids get up and the hour after they go to bed, about 80% of the women who responded had no more than their time in the bathroom or their time taking a shower away from their kids. And let's be real - those kids are either prying their grubby fingers under the bathroom door or standing just outside the shower glass during either of those tasks, so in my book, neither of those count.

My answer was a little bit different than most because this year, I gave myself a gift: Wednesdays from 9-2.

The truth is that I need to work at least a little bit at my kids' preschool because two in preschool on a single income is HARD. So, for the first time in three years, there is one day a week where the kids are all in school for 5 blessed hours, and I am free as a bird. Some Wednesdays, I am super productive: in those five hours, I run every errand known to mankind, hit the gym, get my nails done, grab an oil change, and use all 300 minutes I'm given to their utmost potential. One Wednesday, I sat in a coffee shop, brainstormed blog post ideas, and wrote my little heart out. Other Wednesdays, I crawl under a big ole blanket on my couch with a hot cup of coffee and binge Grey's Anatomy. 

And you know what?

I am a better mom to my three kiddos for it.

On the surface, the idea that leaving my children for five hours in childcare makes me a better mom can sound hypocritical, so let's dissect this a bit.

When Carter was six months old, my husband and I started marriage counseling. We had only been married about a year and a half, but the stress of working (at that point) full-time, being still somewhat newlyweds, struggling with managing our finances, and oh yeah, having a baby less than a year into marriage was just too much for us both. We were fighting like crazy, both feeling angry and resentful and like the other partner wasn't doing their part to balance this whole charade. 

The burnout I was feeling was all over my face, and I remember our therapist asking me what I was doing in my life that made me happy. I'm fairly certain I must've looked at her as if she had just grown a unicorn horn. I was completely and utterly confused by this question. I thought, "Who has time for that right now, lady? I'm swimming upstream everyday managing what I have...how can I possibly add in time for me?!" 

But she said something to me that day that has stuck with me for years - something I absolutely believe at the core of my being to be true. Yes, she said, you are a wife and a mother and a teacher, but you are also a woman and a friend and a daughter, and just because you entered motherhood doesn't mean those roles went away.

I heard it described another way at church one Sunday when our pastor was preaching on margin. That's the first time I was really able to define this important piece of our lives that so many women seem to be completely ignoring. Our pastor was speaking of financial margin - in other words, understanding your financial boundaries and living within those limitations with room to spare.

Women, we have got to live our lives with room to spare.

We pour out and pour out and pour out and serve and serve and serve some more, but the sad reality is that so many of us are serving up empty glasses. We simply have nothing left to pour out anymore because we are not pouring IN to ourselves by living our lives with margin. We are filling every single square inch of our lives with our children and our obligations and we're forgetting ourselves in the mix.

 Here's the hard thing: the truth is that the math of margin sometimes doesn't add up. We can't afford to send our children to preschool an extra day or we have no extra funds that would allow us to bring in a babysitter for a few hours or we have circumstances in our lives that don't allow us to be away from our children due to special needs. I get it, I really do. I spent ten straight months with Brooks when he first came home from China because we needed to bond and attach to each other. In that particular season, I had to get very creative about finding margin. I had to go meet girlfriends for dinner after he had gone to bed and didn't even know I was gone. Or I had to get up super early to hit the 6am yoga class while he still couldn't handle the gym childcare. Or I had to stay up into the wee hours of the morning to get that blog post written. 

Sometimes, it's not always as clear-cut as a Wednesday from 9-2. 

But whatever margin looks like for you, I would encourage you to find it. Nope, let's rephrase that.  I would encourage you to create it.  

Finding margin isn't easy and it can take work. I remember talking to a sweet mama at a MOPS meeting a few weeks ago about margin, and she looked at me like I was crazy when I shared about my Wednesdays and how healthy they've been for me. I could tell she didn't quite understand my need for this mental health break, so I turned the question back on her and asked what she would do with five hours to herself every week. She shook her head, her eyes welled up, and she said, "I don't know. I think I'd spend the whole time crying and missing my kids." 

Ladies, there is so much more to this season of your life than those tiny people you raise. Yes, you're a mother, and that's an incredible thing, likely something you've dreamed about since you were a little girl. BUT! BUT! Don't lose who God made you to be in the chaos of it all. He created you with unique talents and gifts and planted dreams in you that you've likely forgotten in your sleep-deprived, yoga-pants, overly caffeinated state. But, I have a feeling, if you dig hard enough, you'll find them. They'll be dusty and may even be broken, but they're still there.

You're still you. 

  I don't know about you, but I really don't want to stand before God when I get to heaven and say, "Sorry, man. I know you gave me this incredible gift that I totally wasted, but I was just so tired from all the babies."

You still have purpose. 

I'd encourage you to dig up that dream you had when you were eight. Dust it off. Revisit what it could look like for you today. It'll likely look different, but I bet the fire is still there. 

And if nothing else, I'd encourage you to carve out some space this month for margin. Give yourself an hour. Put me to the test. See what it could do for your soul. My bet? You'll return refreshed, focused, and better able to pour into those little people you love so much because you took time to pour in to YOU.  

Fearless Surrender

Surrender.

Let go.

Be open.

These are words that I've been grappling with in my heart the last few weeks. Words that I know all too well can make or break the big decisions in my life. 

If you've been around this little space very long, you know I'm a self-professed control freak. I've made no secret of the fact that I'm a big fan of making my own plans and just praying that God will approve of them. In my own head, I am the expert on me and know what's best for me. I know what feels safe and comfortable, and I do not let go of my comfort zone or security easily. After all, I am the one who has to deal with the consequences of my choices, right? Why would I want to let that go?

But lately? Every time I sit down to write or listen to a podcast or read, I seem to be hit from all sides with the word surrender.

Truth: I'm a planner by nature. But not the type of planner who gets caught up in the details. I used to be, back in the days where I wrote out my plan for the day to the minute, including snack breaks and travel time to and from events. (No, I'm not joking. I actually did that for many years in college.) 

Nowadays, I'm more of a vision girl. I like the big picture. I tend to live in a constant state of "What's next?" and have been told on more than one occasion that I can get tunnel-vision when I'm knee-deep in a project. If you need to get something accomplished, I'm your girl. I won't eat, won't sleep, won't stop until I've moved from point A to point B. The problem with that in my life right now, above and beyond the incessant needs of all my little people, is that I have no idea what my life is going to look like in a year. 

And truthfully? 

That's scaring me out of my mind.

In high school, I was dreaming about college.

In college, I was dreaming about starting my career.

In my first year job, I was dreaming about getting married.

On our honeymoon, I was dreaming having a family.

On my son's first birthday, I was dreaming about giving him a sibling.

Once his sister was over her 12 MONTH episode of colic (yes, it actually did last a full year), we began praying about adoption.

Once Brooks came home, we began the process to build a house.

Do you see the pattern?

I've spent the last 20 years dreaming of what's next.

And now, we're blissfully moving through our life as a family of five with no planned changes on the horizon, and I find myself literally paralyzed with fear at times because I don't know what's ahead.        

I know for many people, this would be a state of bliss. It would feel like a moment to breathe and soak in the present and slow down for a lot of you. Some days, I see it that way; others, I fight to feel like I have purpose.

So I find myself in a season of surrender. 

I don't know what's ahead for me. Is God calling me to a new job? Is He calling me to simply take a seat at the table I've spent the last 15 years building and soak it all in? Does He have something ahead that isn't even on my radar yet? 

As hard as this season is, I know that opening my hands to what He has in store for my future is all I can do. He's asking me to tap the breaks, to trust, and to believe that His plans are good...even if my control issues want me to take the helm now more than ever. 

So, for now, I'm letting go of that white-knuckle grip on my trajectory and opening my heart to this next chapter. It doesn't have a title yet, but I know it'll be one for the books.    

On New Year's Day...

January 1. 

I love a fresh start, don't you? I love opening up a fresh planner, turning to a new month, and dreaming of the possibilities. I also love the thought of improving on the month or year past and setting goals for myself, personally and professionally, as we move into a new chapter.

So, let's chat goals. I am what the personality tests like to call a "lion," which basically means I'm really good at the seeing the big picture or the end goal, and I can get focused to a fault when I'm trying to meet a goal or accomplish something. The problem with lions though is that we often lack the discipline and time management to work out the details that will allow us to achieve our goal without leaving the rest of our life in chaos. We're really BAD at working out the little details when we've set our eyes on the prize, so to speak. 

One of my faults? Constantly thinking about the NEXT project or NEXT goal or NEXT big thing I'm going to do, which often makes me miss out on some of the everyday, routine joy of whatever season of life I currently find myself. I'm always pushing for the next best thing without relishing in the here and now. 

The thing is that I really love the adrenaline rush and sense of accomplishment I feel when I've stepped into new territory or done something I never dreamed I could do. There's nothing that sets me more on fire than working toward a goal or dream that I really believe in. And that's not ALL bad.

The catch-22 though? I've been convicted lately that a lot of my drive to constantly improve and grow stems from a lack of contentment. If I'm being totally honest, I think at times, I constantly push myself because I don't feel like I'm enough. And at times, I feel as if I'm too much. 

And, I'm willing to bet that sometimes, you feel that way, too.

But here's the thing, friends: if I never did another thing, and if I never accomplished another goal in my whole life, the Lord says I'm enough. That doesn't mean I can sit on my couch and binge Netflix until He calls me home, but it DOES mean that I can be content with exactly who He created me to be. Because the best news of the entire gospel is this: HE DID IT FOR ME. Jesus did on the cross what I could never do. He died on the cross and what He did, not what I do, makes me a citizen of heaven. I don't have to continue to prove my worth or continue striving to achieve anyone's approval because He did that for me. He says I'm enough.

And SO ARE YOU.

For the last 15 years or so, I've given myself a challenge to start the new year. Three years ago, I started this blog. Two years ago, I finally said yes to becoming an Ambassador with Noonday Collection after sitting on the decision for 9 months. Last year, I set out to qualify for a trip with the company to meet our artisan partners. 

I'm thrilled that all three of those ventures have been successful, but this year? I really feel as if the Lord is asking me to slow it down. Soak it in. Enjoy the ages my kids are and just relish this season of time with them. I've got so much already planned for this year that I truthfully just don't need to add anything more to it. This year, I'm enjoying the fruits of what I've worked for the last three - I'm visiting our artisan partners, we're taking several family vacations, and I'm continuing to write in this little space I've created here. And I'm calling that good enough.  

So, for 2018, my goal is contentment. 

Less looking out at what the world says I need to be doing and more looking in at my family and friends. 

Less looking down at my phone and more looking up at my kids. 

Less focus on the things that are ahead and more focus on the things I have right in front of me.

What's your goal for 2018? Tell me in the comments! Happy New Year, friends! 

On Opening the Door

This past week at my MOPS meeting, I sat at a table with six amazing women discussing clutter. We all have it – physical clutter, meaning the piles, the boxes, the shoes (my personal nemesis), the disorganized parts of our home. We all have that one closet we’d be horrified if someone opened, am I right? 

I’ve never really thought much beyond what it physically is…stuff. Things. Junk. But as the seven of us shared and dug a little deeper into our clutter, some truths began to surface that went much deeper than piles of our children’s school work and that box of clothes we can’t let go of because “someday” we might fit back into it.

Our conversation shifted from Container Store bins and organizational tips to much bigger things like guilt and shame and vulnerability. There were common threads – the excessive amount of toys our children have that they don’t play with (that’s another blog post entirely…sheesh), the preschool drawings we can’t seem to let go of, the hoarding tendencies of family members, the hand-me-down pile-up, and the shame or anxiety we have over entertaining. 

But what struck me the most was how this physical clutter and the shame we feel about all of our “stuff” has ultimately separated us from community with those around us and, more importantly, community with Jesus.

I grew up in a home where we had people over all the time. Weekends were a revolving door of friends, babysitters, and neighbors. I could walk two houses down to play with one friend and two blocks to play with another. I had several “bonus moms” whose license plate numbers I can still recite because that’s how much time I spent in their cars.

I realize now what a gift that was, but at the time, it was just normal. If I wanted to invite a friend to our house on a Saturday afternoon with 15 minutes notice, there were no great logistics involved. No one was concerned with how pristine and perfect the house was…we simply called their house, and if they were free, they showed up. Easy.

When did we make it so complicated?

If I think back to my time I spent as a child at my friends’ houses for sleepovers and whatnot, I literally have ZERO memories of mess. I have exactly zero memories of the décor and organization (or lack of) in my friends’ homes. (Okay, there was this one really creepy chicken statue that sat in one friend’s kitchen, and I only remember that because I felt like it was watching me all the time.)

As for clutter? I’m sure it was there, but do you know how much it mattered to me? Exactly ZERO percent. And I can assure you that my 1989 bonus moms did NOT waste their time cleaning counters and vacuuming floors right before five second graders descended for a sleepover. They simply knew better. They threw some sleeping bags, pizza, and Blockbuster videos out on the living room floor, and moved on with their lives. Ain’t nobody got time for the Dyson.

Here’s the thing, friends…if we say we value and long for authentic community, yet are not willing to open our lives and our homes to those around us because we have a few piles of clutter and our homes are not “perfect,” how can our neighbors truly feel comfortable enough to really connect with us? Nobody wants to be friends with the Cleavers. If we insist on waiting until we have the perfect home and perfect clutter-free life before we can invite people in, we’ll be waiting forever.

You know my absolute very favorite thing about Jesus? He loved a hot mess. Like me and you. He didn’t seek out the ones who had it all together, he sought out the imperfect. He used people who were alcoholics (Noah) and thieves (Zacchaeus) and prostitutes (Rahab) to spread the Gospel. Had he sought out the most holy, most sinless, most perfect people, honestly, who would’ve listened? I don’t know about you, but I’m much more moved and inspired by the stories of those who have overcome their sin and been redeemed through the Holy Spirit than by those who have never faced a struggle. 

To be fair, vulnerability is hard, scary even, but it’s also a bridge. It’s at the heart of connection. To let people into our mess, into our struggle, and into our homes says to them, “It’s okay to be you. You don’t have to be perfect here.”

What freedom there is in that!

We don’t have to be perfect to spend time with the Lord, and we certainly don’t have to have it all together to invite others in. Don’t miss out on the joy of connection because you’re afraid of people seeing the real you. To be truly seen and known and accepted anyway, well, I’m not sure I can think of a greater gift. 

What Breaks YOUR Heart? Thoughts on Brooks's Dedication Weekend

Last night, we dedicated our sweet Brooks to the Lord in front of our church and family. It was such a full circle moment because God first planted that adoption seed in our hearts in that same room, from that stage over two years ago when a message from our pastor, John McKinzie, asked us two very simple questions: 

1. What breaks your heart? 

2. What are you willing to do about it? 

That day began a journey for us that has been up, down, and everything in between, but Blake and I wouldn't change it for the world. This little boy is a huge blessing, and we pray that the Lord uses his life to do big, mighty things in this world. He has already opened the hearts of so many, and we are beyond grateful that out of everyone in the whole world, God chose US to be his parents.

As I was showering last night, I began thinking about the power of those questions, and I wondered how the world might look a little different if we reflected on those more often. I think that two years later, my answers to those questions have changed a little. Before our trip to China, my heart was broken by the IDEA of kids without parents and kids without permanent homes, but my knowledge of the orphan crisis has evolved since then. 

Since I first answered those questions in January 2015, I've walked the cold and sterile halls of an orphanage. I've looked little ones in the face who have no one to call mama or daddy. I've held the hand of a little girl who will likely spend her entire childhood looking at the same four walls of that sterile building.

And now that I've seen it with my own two eyes, I'm responsible. 

I can't wake up everyday with the same naivete I had two years ago. It's one thing to KNOW that the orphan crisis exists...it's another thing to stand in the trenches of it. David Platt once said, "Orphans are easier to ignore before you know their names. Once you do, everything changes." I would add that orphans are easier to ignore before you've held their hands. Before you've looked in their eyes. Before you've felt the plywood boards they spent their first year lying on 22 hours a day.  

And, of course, orphans are easier to ignore before you've taken one in as your own. 

I'm not sure how I'd answer that second question today. At this point, another adoption is not in our plans, but that doesn't mean I can't be involved in the adoption/foster care world. I can advocate. I can write. I can speak. I can support adoption fundraisers. I can buy from fair-trade companies and small businesses that support families. 

But what I can't do? I can't stay quiet about the orphan crisis and I won't stop advocating for adoption and family preservation. I can't undo the last two plus years and the journey we've walked, and I don't want to. God didn't put us on this path simply to bring Brooks home. I firmly believe that God put us on this path for the rest of them. The ones left behind. God gave me this space and this voice and this journey so that hearts might be opened to answering those questions for themselves...and then ACTING ON IT. 

Whether it's orphans or those in poverty or the homeless...whatever breaks YOUR heart, DO SOMETHING.

It would've been easy for Blake and I to simply say that it's heart-breaking that so many kids don't have families and that it's sad that some kids grow up without the stability of a forever home. It would've been easy to stop there and admit that it's terribly unfair. But we can't just stop there if we want things to change. It's the answer to that second question that really matters. 

So, I'll end by asking you...what breaks your heart?

And, even more importantly, what are YOU willing to do about it?

On Taking a Phone Sabbath

CONFESSION: I am 150% addicted to my iPhone.

(Aren't we all?) 

I've been noticing, though, that lately, my phone addiction has taken a stronghold over me. It's the first thing I reach for when I get up in the morning, and it's the last thing I look at before I go to bed. It's really become a little sad, truthfully, just how ONE I've become with the damn thing. 

Last night, I was reading a chapter in Jennie Allen's new book, Nothing to Prove, and the chapter was on fulfillment. She was using the analogy of the water-to-wine miracle Jesus performed with regards to settling in our own lives for fulfillment in things like social media, food, or Netflix instead of finding our true fulfillment in Jesus. 

As I was reading the chapter, I just kept thinking about my dang phone addiction. Every spare moment I have, I'm scrolling something. It's embarrassing to admit, really, so when I got to the end of the chapter and she encouraged a "fast" from whatever it was we were settling for, I knew exactly what I was going to put down. I don't find it to be coincidence that our church has been doing a series on finding margin in our lives and that today's focus was time. When I consider the amount of wasted time I spend on that little thing, it's no wonder I don't get anything done in a day. 

So, this morning, as I was waking up, my sweet husband threw me my phone as he always does, but I told him to keep it turned off because I was taking a break today. It literally sat, untouched, on my night stand until almost 1pm this afternoon. 

The first hour was the hardest. It's just my natural inclination to want to play catch-up on all the things I missed overnight, but I held my ground. It was amazing how much less stressful it was to get out the door when I was fully present and actually getting ready for church instead of scrolling Instagram. If Blake is driving us somewhere, I normally send text messages or check email, but today, I actually talked to my kids. It sounds so silly to type it out like that, but this was a change for me...and a healthy one.

After lunch, Blake encouraged me to just simply hit the home screen button to check and be sure I hadn't missed any important calls or texts, so I did. There was a play date invitation that I did need to respond to, but otherwise, I stayed completely off my phone for the remainder of the day.

Y'all...I kid you not...I was a better person today.

Here are a few things I noticed about myself today being phone-free:

-I was calmer. Even Blake noticed a change in my demeanor. I was pleasant, I was calm, and I didn't snap at anyone.

-I didn't bite my nails. I had no idea that this nasty habit of mine went hand in hand with scrolling social media. It was amazing to me that I didn't find myself biting because I wasn't zoned out...which brings me to number three..

-I was PRESENT with my kids. We talked in the car, we talked at meals, and we played together. They didn't annoy me as much today because I engaged with them more. We made an obstacle course, we talked about their church class, and we looked each other in the eye more.

-I was SO PRODUCTIVE. We cleaned out kids' closets, we cleaned out my desk, we boxed up some old toys, and we put away three loads of laundry.

-My hands didn't hurt. Usually, by the end of the day, my thumbs and forefingers hurt. I figured I was just getting old and maybe Carpal Tunnel or something...but I'm pretty sure it's my phone.

-I was a better wife today. Blake and I talked in the car, we laughed together, and I didn't spend the entire evening zoned out at a screen. Instead, we watched a show together, ate cheesecake (always a good decision), and talked about some goals.

-I didn't get a headache. This one could totally be a fluke...or not. I'm not sure, honestly. But I didn't get a headache today like I do several days a week.

  -I prayed more. I found myself talking to God when I would normally be numbing out to social media. I chose connection over comparison.

Today was AMAZING, you guys.

Here's my sad conclusion after 24 hours phone-free. Social media, at least for me, has become an idol. It makes me less present, less content, and less involved in my actual life when I'm constantly scrolling through the highlight reel of someone else's. It takes time away from God, my family, and my daily responsibilities. 

So, can I give it up entirely? No. 

The truth of the matter is that I use social media several times a week for my Noonday business and to share our adoption story. Social media has introduced me to dear friends, encouraged people who are on the adoption journey, and kept me connected to family members. There are lots of positives that come from social media, and when used appropriately, social media is an amazing thing.

But, here's my hang-up: for me, and I know many others, social media and the phone has taken over our identities. It's the first place we turn when we need to vent. When given two minutes in a waiting room, we find ourselves scrolling something. We've become so conditioned to this addiction that we can't even hit a stoplight without picking up the damn thing. So, I've decided I need to set up some boundaries for myself.

Moving forward with 2017, here is what I am going to try to do to keep this idol at bay:

1) Jesus before Instagram: Until I've had some quiet time with the Lord in the morning, the phone stays on the charger. Period. If the kids come down as I'm finishing up my devotional, oh well. The phone can wait because the day has begun. 

2) No phone after 9PM: For the last hour or so of my day, it's off. This will be time to wind down, relax, and be with my husband.

3) Social Media Sabbath on Sunday: Moving forward, I'm unplugging from social media on Sundays. I can't say I'll unplug from my phone altogether because that's just not responsible with three kids, but on Sundays, Facebook and IG are staying closed. Period. No falling down the rabbit hole.

If you've never tried a social media and/or phone Sabbath, I'd highly encourage it! If you have, tell me about it in the comments! I'd love to hear how it goes for y'all!

Some Days are Just HARD.

Can I get real for a minute? Like, really real.

Today was an absolute BEATING. Like, I could actually go to bed at 8:29 as I'm sitting down to write this beating. Like, I ate two cupcakes after dinner and felt zero shame beating.

Short of my oldest son's surgery complications, today was one of the hardest days of parenting I've ever had. I won't bore you with all the details, but what you should know is that Brooks's allergies and asthma are basically just completely out of control right now with all the ickiness that has been kicked up by crazy weather changes. At 6:45 am this morning, we sat down to his first breathing treatment...couldn't even get my coffee in first. Today alone, he's had four rounds of Albuterol, two inhaled steroids, three doses of Zarbee's cough syrup, a dose of Zyrtec, a dose of Ibuprofen (that one was because he hit his head, though), took a bath and then was coated in essential oils, AND we have his humidifer going. On high. And he's STILL struggling and coughing up a storm, despite all those efforts. He STILL has gunk pouring out of his nose every second. And yes, we did see the doctor today in the middle of all that who assured me that all of this WAS helping him. 

Oh, and I also have two other children to keep alive under the age of 6. 

I'm telling you...this mom stuff is no joke. 

I've been fighting this helpless, scary, haunting voice most of the day that tells me this is too much for me to handle. All day, and with every breathing treatment we sat down to, I felt this nagging feeling that I am not enough for my son. I am not equipped to handle all of this need. You guys...it's his freaking LUNGS for goodness sake. It just feels so far above my pay grade, and handling it at home by myself is one of the scariest things I've ever had to do. The thought of managing this for the rest of his childhood...well, it just about undoes me. I've seriously just spent so much of today feeling completely helpless.

I try to only do this once or twice a year, but by 4:15 this afternoon, I just couldn't take much more, so I asked Blake to come home a little early and help me. He took the kids up to Five Below to spend their allowance money from last week, and I cranked up a podcast as I started dinner. I just so happened (or not, because GOD) to stumble upon the "Mom Struggling Well" episode with Kayla Craig. Kayla is a mom of four under six, two of which are adopted and have special needs, and she was such an encouragement to me tonight. 

Emily, the host of the podcast, asked Kayla how she manages the needs of such a large family and specifically the medical needs of these two adopted children. What she said was essentially this: Even when I feel like I can't manage it all, I know I can because JESUS CAN handle it all THROUGH ME. It reminded me so much of a line I heard once that said Jesus doesn't call the equipped, He equips the called. I reminded myself tonight that even when I'm drowning, even when I'm on my knees, we were CALLED to this. Not only to adoption, but we were called more specifically to the adoption of BROOKS. God ordained us to be his parents long ago, and we've got this, even when it's hard, because we have the power of the Holy Spirit. Even though my hands are shaky and I feel like I can't take one more punch, I can press on and keep fighting for my son because God made him for me and me for him. 

I wanted to put that thought out there tonight because I just felt like someone else might need to hear those words too. Whatever He has called you to, He will equip you for it. That doesn't mean it won't be scary and that doesn't mean you won't feel inadequate...it just means He's right there with you when you fall on your knees. Which, let's face it, is probably the best possible place we can be.

IF: Gathering 2017

I had the BEST and most refreshing weekend attending my church's IF: Gathering! The focus of the conference was the idea of getting back to the basics of the early church and examining how Jesus did life with his disciples. Pure and simple. There were so many nuggets of wisdom shared, but I wanted to take a morning to write down two things I walked away with that were just SO meant for me to hear...because I wonder if maybe, just maybe, you might need to hear them today, too. 

1) GO SMALL.

Jennie Allen started the conference off with a GUT PUNCH for me. Social media is such a huge part of everybody's lives in 2017, and there are so many amazing things that come from social media...BUT, it can get so easy to get caught up in building your platform there that your ACTUAL, REAL-LIFE, FACE-TO-FACE relationships suffer. I've found myself struggling with that paradox a lot these last few months because I've shared so much about adoption and Noonday that my "following" on Instagram and here on my blog has grown a lot. And if I'm being honest? It's pretty satisfying to see that a blog post got 1,000 views or a picture I posted got 97 likes or that I gained six new followers. Words of affirmation is my primary love language, and although actual "words" are not spoken, there is definitely affirmation felt there. The danger though, is that we begin to find our identity and our purpose in those numbers, and it becomes a slippery slope. I love how Jennie Allen asked everyone at IF why they love Jesus, and how she reminded us that it is PEOPLE who invest in our lives that bring us closer to Christ. It's not a blog or a book or an Instagram post that does that...it's a person. It's a relationship. And oh my goodness, I needed that reminder. 

2) Don't Overthink It...Just Get On With It!

The weekend concluded with one of my absolute favorite teachers ever, Jo Saxton. (My church actually didn't broadcast her speech, but I watched it on the Live Stream.) Maybe it's her accent or her passion or something, I don't know, but I could seriously listen to her ALL DAY LONG. Anyway, the main message of her portion of the weekend was encouraging us to not let our fears and insecurities get in the way of community with others. I fall victim to this far more often that I'd like to admit. My house is usually in a state of what my husband calls "squalor." Picture Cheerios on the floor, band-aid wrappers on the counter, and sippy cups at every turn. It is FAR from Pinterest-worthy. It's not often (and not without A LOT of advance notice) that I open my home for a play date or dinner with friends, but I'm hoping to take some of the pressure off myself to keep the "perfect" house and just allow people into the mess. There's such freedom in letting the guard down and admitting that you don't have it all together. I once heard somebody say (maybe Jamie Ivey?) that the two most powerful words in the English language are, "Me too." What comfort and connection we find in others when we admit our faults and struggles. My marriage is not perfect, my house is (NEVER) perfect, and my parenting is sub-par more days than I'd like to admit...but God doesn't just call the qualified. He calls us ALL to community, even those who need to show up with our Cheerio-covered floors. This was exactly what I needed to hear this weekend.

If you didn't get a chance to attend or view the IF: Gathering this weekend, the live stream is up for just a few more hours today! Go HERE and take a few minutes for yourself...you won't regret it! 

That Mama

Hey, baby boy, hey...it's your mama here.

I'm not the one who carried you.

Not the one who looks like you.

Not the one who held you first.

No, buddy, I'm not that mama.

I'm not the one who shares your blood.

Not the one whose smile matches yours.

Not the one who heard your first cry.

No, buddy, I'm not that mama.

I'm not the one who nursed you first.

Not the one who wondered whose eyes you have.

Not the one who saw that first sleepy smile.

No, buddy, I'm not that mama. 

I'm not the one who chose life for you.

Not the one who found herself in an impossible situation.

Not the one who made the terrifying but selfless choice to give you a better life.

No, buddy, I'm not that mama.

I'm not the one who watched from afar to be sure you were found quickly.

Not the one who left you in a very public place, assuring your safety.

Not the one who tearfully walked away from her beloved son.

No, buddy, I'm not that mama.

I'm the one who will soon become family.

The one who will work hard to earn your trust, ever so slowly and patiently. 

The one who will watch you leave behind all you've ever known.

Buddy, I'm that mama.

I'm the one who will fight for you, always.

The one who will teach you how to love and be loved in return.

The one who will tell you your story as often as you want to hear it.   

Buddy, I'm that mama.

I'm the one who will make mistakes...lots of them.

The one who will ask for forgiveness and teach you how to ask for it, too. 

The one who will try to teach you right from wrong.

Buddy, I'm that mama.

I'm the one who will take far too many pictures and keep all (okay, most) of your preschool masterpieces until you're 30.

The one who will drop you off at your first day of Kindergarten.

The one who will watch you hit your first home run. 

Buddy, I'm that mama.

I'm the one who will dry your tears when a girl breaks your heart.

The one who will help you find a way to stand up for the friend being picked on.

The one who will teach you to follow hard after Jesus.

Buddy, I'm that mama.

I'm the one who will encourage you to love learning.

The one who will help you with your homework.

The one who will watch you walk across that stage at high school graduation.

Buddy, I'm that mama.

I'm the one who will never take it for granted that you are a gift to our family.

The one who will never stop marveling at a God who fit you perfectly in a family 7,000 miles away from your birthplace.

The one who will never stop trying to make your first mama proud.

Because buddy, I'm your forever mama.

And what a blessing that is.  

The Playhouse

You know that old saying, "The Lord works in mysterious ways?" Sometimes, he even uses dirty plastic playhouses...because He can.  

It was a typical Thursday evening. We had just returned home from the gym, and I was making dinner. Tacos, obviously, since I had just worked out for an hour. ;) I was feeling pretty rotten and down because the kids had been fighting all week, the weather was icky for May, and our family has been stuck in a season of disappointment and heartache for the last two months. 

Over the last eight weeks, we have declined our first referral from China due to some inaccurate information in the file, we put our beloved Boston Terrier to sleep due to a neurological issue, and we have adopted...and returned...another puppy to her rescue group due to safety concerns with our yard and her ability to create an escape route. Disappointment after disappointment after disappointment. It was one of those days where I had just been praying for something, ANYTHING, to go right.

My daughter is two and a half. (Moment of silence, please.) She is at that age where the slightest little thing sets her off, so as I had neared the end of cooking, I went to poke my head outside where my sweet hubby was playing with the kids to ask if she wanted a crunchy shell or a tortilla for her taco, and I ended up standing there staring for a solid ten minutes completely unnoticed.

As I looked outside, I found my husband, all 6 feet and 200+ pounds of him, scrunched into our tiny Little Tykes plastic playhouse with both kids. He was asking about their day, tickling them, giggling with them, just enjoying their company. And they were EATING IT UP.

I stood in the doorway for several minutes, just savoring the sight of those three laughing and happy. And it dawned on me. I immediately felt the Holy Spirit saying to me, "When was the last time YOU enjoyed their company? When was the last time YOU were thankful for the people you still have? Don't you see what all I've already given you!"

There's a line in a song by Casting Crowns I'm loving right now that says, "If your eyes are on the storm, you'll wonder if I love you still. But if your eyes are on the cross, you know I always have and I always will." At that moment, that line made sense. I realized I had been approaching this hard season in completely the wrong way.

Because of a plastic playhouse. 

Rather than approaching this season with my eyes on the cross and the blessings and the good, my eyes have been on the storm and the waiting and the hard. My eyes have been so focused on the heartache and the disappointment and the jealousy of what we DON'T HAVE right now, that I've completely missed out on enjoying what we DO HAVE. 

And because God works in that mysterious way, it took a plastic playhouse to remind me of all He's already done for me.

"Great is the Lord and most worthy of praise; His greatness no one can fathom. One generation commends your works to another; they tell of your mighty acts." -Psalm 145:3-4

The April Rain...

You know that old saying, "April showers bring May flowers?" I've been thinking a lot about it lately. We've had quite a bit of physical rain here in Texas over the last several weeks, and our family has also seen a lot of emotional rain so far this month as well. 

As I posted a few weeks ago, the last few days of March were hard. SO HARD. We got the referral call we'd been praying about for over a year, and then within a few hours, we were crushed to learn that the precious boy we had learned about was not meant to be ours due to a clerical error. He was too old for us, and that was crushing. 

Was it the right decision to pass on this little boy's file? Yes. I don't doubt that, in the grand scheme of our life, this was the right decision. Adopting a little boy just three months younger than Kate was not in the best interest of our family. I know this logically. She needs to be the big sister, and the social worker agreed. But my heart hurts, and his precious face has haunted me for the last three weeks. How much longer will this boy have to wait for his forever family to claim him? He deserves every good thing the world has to offer, and yet, we had to say no. And that's hard. 

The rain is still falling.

The very next morning, April 1, a new storm began. Our precious Boston Terrier, Emma, jumped up into bed with me first thing in the morning like she always does and cried out in pain. She has thrown her neck out a few times in the last few years, so this wasn't highly unusual. She has always recovered after 48-72 hours of crate rest with a little pain medicine, so I wasn't too worried just yet. She wouldn't eat or drink the whole day Friday, so I took her in to the vet on Saturday concerned about dehydration. They gave her some fluids, prescribed steroids, and I assumed she'd be back to her normal self by Monday. No biggie, right?

Well, the April rain wasn't quite over yet.

Over the next ten days, Emma continued to decline. She would show signs of improvement for a few minutes, and then she'd be back in pain. As her steroids began to run out and she had no consistent improvement, I began to get worried. I called the vet to see if we could extend her round of steroids, and she hesitantly said yes, but she emphasized that Emma may need to see a neurologist and potentially decompression surgery if more time didn't correct this. 

By the second week of April, our precious girl was just in complete and utter agony, and she began to show signs of giving up. She didn't want to come out of her crate anymore, she refused all food and water because chewing and swallowing became so painful, and the reality that we might be losing her began to sink in. I cried my eyes out for the next 48 hours and hesitantly posted a prayer request on my Facebook page. I knew my husband and I were not excited about the financial and emotional toll putting her through neurosurgery would take, but I hesitantly called the specialist to see if they could see her. I was devastated to learn that their first available appointment was not for six days. I took it, but at that moment, I knew in my heart that she would not be around for that appointment.

I called our regular vet back and asked if I could bring her in that afternoon to discuss our options and see just how dehydrated and weak she really was. We went in at 3:30 that afternoon, and the vet's face dropped as he entered the room. I knew right away that this wasn't going to end well. He was too nervous to even give her a full exam because she was shaking in pain and had lost the ability to control her legs. He said in all his years working as a vet he had never seen a spinal cord as compressed as our precious Emma's was. On a scale of 1-10, he rated her pain level at a 10+ and took her back to the back to see if she could walk and eat anything. We discussed our options a little more, and he basically advised me that he wasn't even sure a neurologist could fully correct Emma's spine. We made the gut-wrenching decision to go ahead and take away her pain, and we tearfully all said goodbye to our precious Emma girl at 4:15pm that afternoon.

At this point, it was just pouring on me.

Emma was a college graduation gift I gave myself nine years ago.  She was my partner-in-crime, room mate, protector, and shadow for nearly a decade. I don't really know how to exist without her, and my heart is breaking every day when the realization comes back that she is no longer here. Dogs have such a funny way of finding their way into the deepest and most special parts of our hearts, and there is just such a void in our house without her. I truly had no idea just how attached I was to her until she was gone.

So, we're in a rainy season around our house - physically, emotionally, and, honestly, a little bit spiritually. It's been hard for me to lift my hands and give thanks and praise the One who is walking me through a season of hard. I want a referral that fits our family. I want to see our son's face. I want my dog back. But, that's not the season we are in. God has said a lot of "no" this month so far, and that, well, sucks.

But I realized I have two choices. I can allow myself to get drenched in the rain and wallow in it, or I can remember what comes next. The rainbow. The blooming. May flowers. Whatever adage you choose, the rain always has a purpose. The rain creates the rainbow. The April showers bring the beauty of the May flowers.

The refining of the rain creates the beauty of the rainbow.

I don't know why God caused all of this rain to happen in April so far. I don't understand why we had to be sent a referral that wasn't actually a match for our family. I don't know why He chose to take Emma from us at just 9 years old. I'm not privy to any of that knowledge, and there are days when that absolutely sucks. I'm sorry, but there's just no other word for it. It sucks. It's okay to say that.

One day, I have no doubt that I'll look back at this rainy season and understand it all. I will "get it" one day soon. But today? Today, I'm going to feel the rain and understand that it has purpose. God doesn't lead us through trials because He likes to see us in pain. He leads us through trials to refocus our hearts and minds on Him and His purpose for us.

So, today, I'm feeling the rain. Are you in a rainy season? What purpose do you think it might be serving for you? Leave me a comment!

On Vulnerability...

Five days ago, I did something I thought was impossible when originally asked. Last week, I stood on a stage in front of 160 women and shared my testimony of how Jesus brought me through a life-threatening eating disorder in my teen years. 

And you know the weirdest part?

I wasn't even nervous.

Rewind two months to the moment I got the phone call asking me to share this? I was a blubbering hot mess who didn't sleep for two weeks as I came up with a litany of reasons I shouldn't share it. 

What if they look at me differently?

What if they think I'm crazy?

What if they judge me?  

What if our friendship changes because of this?

What if I cry and look stupid?

All of these things, at the time, seemed like totally valid reasons to say no. I resolved to stay strong and say no when asked to accept or decline their offer to speak. I decided I would just keep my scary past in the past, tuck it away, and stay safe. No one needed to hear my story. It couldn't change anyone. It couldn't inspire anyone. And it DEFINITELY couldn't give anyone hope.

No, I thought...it's not worth sharing. Not out loud at least. If they really want to know my story, they can read it as I hide with my tail between my legs behind my computer screen. Yeah. There. I typed it once, so there. I'll just tell them to read it. 

And then I got the text I'd been dreading, "So, would you like to do it?"

I initially typed this response, "Thanks so much for asking. I really do appreciate it. But, I'm just really busy right now with teaching and adoption tasks that I just don't think I can take on one more thing. My apologies."

But something in me just couldn't hit send. I started at that response for a solid five minutes...and I kept feeling a lingering sense of uncertainty. My mind was running about a mile a minute when it dawned on me...there's an alternative answer to my excuses above.

What if they DON'T?

Here's the thing - vulnerability is scary. Weakness is not something we celebrate 'round here. Struggles and challenges are not something we shout from the rooftops as if they were accomplishments. There is risk involved, and risk is no fun for anyone. Risk implies the opportunity to fail. And with that, comes really two possible results - reward or regret.

I figured I had two options - I could say yes, take the risk, and potentially make an absolute mess of myself on stage. OR, I could sit safely in my seat, never put myself out there, and never know whether or not my speech would've made a difference. As scared as I was, I knew I couldn't live with that regret.

Two extra cups of coffee confidence later, I finally got the courage to respond: "Sure! Thanks for asking!" 

I hit send, and then I immediately panicked. Well, I thought, you've done it now, girl!

A few weeks later, I was listening to the online stream of the IF: Gathering in Austin, and I heard the incredible Angie Smith give a brief talk. She was visibly nervous, and she explained that her nerves were based on a lie that she had been wrestling with for years...a lie that told her she didn't matter. A lie that told her she was unworthy to teach. A lie that told her she wasn't good enough to inspire others.

It was during this speech that the cause of my fear was realized...I believed those lies, too. And, I wonder, if maybe you might believe those, too. So, I started dreaming...

What if we shook off the lies that tell us we aren't enough?

What if we shook off the lies that tell us we are too much?

What if we shook off the lies that tell us we don't have a story?

What if we shook off the lies that tell us our lives don't matter?

WHAT IF?

It is such a common fear in all of us, I think, this fear that our lives are completely futile and without meaning. But, I'll tell you what if...we would stop living our lives in our little safety boxes. God doesn't call us to merely stay quiet and be safe. God calls us to GO. And DO. And RISK.

I began to see this opportunity completely differently. Not only did I have an opportunity to share my story of hope with these women, I had the opportunity to encourage THEM to share their stories with others, too. Mission accepted.

Two months later, the week of my testimony came up, and I was strangely calm. I had been working through the lies I was believing over the last few weeks as I prepared my talk, and the few days leading up to my speech, the texts and messages of support began rolling in.

I had friends and family praying for me all over the place, and things went tremendously well. I dealt with a little bit of cotton mouth, and I vowed to never go up on stage without a bottle of water again, but I lived to tell about it, I didn't vomit or faint, and I have received over 25 emails/texts/messages of support since I took the risk and shared my story.

There was no judgment. No labels. No looking silly. No changed friendships. Okay, there WAS some crying, but that would've happened anyway! ;)

Vulnerability is scary, but, friends, it is SO worth the risk! Where is God calling YOU to be vulnerable?

Finding Joy in the Waiting...A Letter to Myself

I've written about waiting and trusting in God's timing before, but when I did, it was more directed at my readers and encouraging others.

Today, this post is for me.

I've been an absolute wreck the last few weeks, literally causing myself physical pain through my anxiety over our first delay in our adoption process. That one last document we need to finish authenticating at the Consulate...well, it's still there. What should be a four day turn around has been there for two weeks. It has made me literally crazy, and today, I'm done holding tightly to this stronghold of control. I'm giving it up. I'm letting go. 

(Cue Elsa on the snowy mountain.)

Here's the thing...at the end of the day, control is a facade. And that's hard for control freaks like me to understand. I walk around 95% of the time with a FALSE sense of control. At times, it becomes an idol for me. It is easier for me to white knuckle through life full of anxiety and tension and stress than it is to let go and trust that a bigger and much more qualified God is in control. 

And that is just plain silly, y'all.

What FREEDOM there is in letting go! The reality is that I am merely a steward of what He's given me. Time, health, money, family...these are all gifts that HE controls. My job is use these blessings to spread His kingdom. He never asks us to be in control...He asks us to trust.

My best friend Erica loves to remind me of my planner in college. Back when I thought life was so stressful (oh, how I'd love to go back and slap that college girl silly...you have no idea how good you have it right now, sorority girl!), I felt a need to control everything my literally scheduling every 15 minutes of my day. No lie. I scheduled "travel time" between classes, snack breaks, workouts, everything. I was the least spontaneous person you'd ever met, and I needed Lexapro just to cope with it all. 

Friends, this is not living.

So today, I'm going to find JOY in the season God is walking me through right now. Is it frustrating to know that the Consulate is basically holding our dossier hostage with that one paper? YES. Is it hard to wrestle with the fact that our dossier will go out two or three weeks later than anticipated due to this delay and the Chinese New Year? YES. But, God didn't ask me to understand why. He asks me to let go, to trust, and to live in the moment. And today, I'm choosing joy. I may not have a dossier in China today, but I have a wonderful workplace with incredible women where I get to spend my morning, and afternoon to spend with a dear friend, and a weekend of family fun ahead. And I am going to find JOY in the exact moment God has placed me.

And when that day comes that our dossier is done, we meet our son, and all of this is behind us? I have a feeling I will look back and realize that God is truly in the details of all this. He has a perfect plan for our family...delays and all. 

Happy Friday, friends! 

Noonday Collection - Changing the World through Style

I am thrilled to finally be able to share my new adventure with you all today! After many months of prayer and conversation, I have joined an incredible team of women as an Independent Ambassador for the Noonday Collection. 

(This is our excited face.)

So, if you've never heard of Noonday, here's the scoop. (You can watch a little video from the founder if you feel so inclined HERE.) Noonday Collection's mission is to create jobs for artisans around the world who live in some of the most vulnerable countries. These men and women create beautiful and unique jewelry and accessories, and by partnering with Noonday Collection, they are able to earn a FAIR and DIGNIFIED income for their families through the sale of their products. Each purchase you make from Noonday Collection helps families and communities around the world flourish.

As an ambassador, I will be connecting customers to the artisans through trunk shows and online sales. If you have any interest in hosting a trunk show, I would LOVE to chat! There are some pretty sweet perks for hostesses! ;)  And really, what could be better than getting together with your friends, shopping for beautiful jewelry, AND helping others all at once?! It really doesn't get much better!

Well, maybe it does. All proceeds from my trunk shows will go directly toward our adoption expenses...so there's that, too!

The spring line launches February 18, and I will be hosting a launch party during the afternoon on Sunday, February 28th, at my home in Frisco. I will be sending lots of invites, and please feel free to bring your friends! 

Not local? Can't make the show? No worries! You can shop my personal website anytime HERE.  

I am just ecstatic to be joining a community of women who are making a huge impact by styling their friends. The quality of these pieces is truly second to none, and I cannot wait to see how God uses this company to help not only our family with our adoption expenses, but also families and children all around the world.