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Stretched. (64)

This past week has been stretching: in the physical sense and also the very metaphorical one. I’m noticing my belly button completely disappear at the same time as I’m being challenged to stand on Truth in different aspects of my life. I’m feeling the physical restriction of once-fitting clothing while on the same days being called to boldness and honesty and bravery in new ways. It’s fascinating, the parallels that come in seasons of our lives.

I don’t think I’ve ever felt more called to live into my age, experience or faith than I’ve been over these past months and weeks. I’m not one to shy away from sharing what I think when I feel like it really matters, but my convictions are burning up inside these days in a way that compels them to press outward–sometimes I feel like I’m hard to contain, and on the heels of that sentiment, I feel called to set thoughts and convictions free. The phrase, “For such a time as this,” comes to mind so often, and I wonder if I’ll ever stop living and feeling that sentiment so deeply (yet somehow, I suspect I won’t).

I know we don’t know the day or the hour that Jesus returns to earth, but I also know that as humans and believers, we can sense a quickening here that feels more tangible as time goes on. That quickening feels pertinent and worth recognition to me, because I want to be doing the things I’m called to do here on earth in preparation for what is to come. In the same ways that I want to be mentally, physically, spiritually and emotionally prepared for labor as we look toward the birth of our child, I want to be prepared to become more like Christ and to trust God more fully as the earth groans with its own labor pains.

The condition of the world does not always encourage me. In fact, without the hope of the Gospel, it could quickly feel like a very discouraging, despairing, unwelcoming place. I know that some people experience life this way, and it’s not surprising, when there are so many lies flying at us at every turn. When we can’t find our value in Christ alone, where do we place our hope? How do we anticipate a promising future without knowing who owns and holds it for us?

Stretching. It’s stretching to aim at growing in faith and living a life of hope. It’s stretching to put our trust in Jesus and to surrender a control we never actually had in the first place but believe should be ours. It’s stretching to realize that our old ways of doing things no longer fit with who we’re now called to be. In growing this baby, I’m learning so much about myself, but even more about God. I’m stretching from the inside out and the outside in. I’m having to rewrite what I understand about trust, or perhaps better put, I’m having to stand back while God rewrites my understanding of trust and its depth with Him.

I do love a good story, so the parallels here with this season of life we’re living are so helpful to me. So much in life makes better sense when there’s a visual aid. And I don’t think the stretching inside and that outside are mutually exclusive to one another, but rather they’re working together to draw things closer; delivery and deliverance both on the horizon in the direction my heart and body need to go for birth and life to be the end result.

Stretching can be painful, and in my experience these days, it ebbs and flows in waves of discomfort and reassurance, encouragement and challenge. As in preparation for a race, I know it’s of benefit to me to stretch now, and slowly, not hurriedly or all at once. Without this stretching, I can’t get where I’m going or where God’s calling me to move, so I’m once again uncurling my grip on what I can’t control in exchange for hope and trust in the One who knows the path set before me.

Surrender is both good and hard. I’m trying to be here for it and to willingly embrace it along the way.

MM

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So You Had a Bad Day. (68)

Some days we wake up and things just don’t start out as hoped, right? Maybe the alarm goes off and we hit snooze one too many times, maybe we’re just slow moving that morning and get a little behind, maybe we never remembered to set the alarm at all. Or it could be that the kids are already awake and needing a little bit of everything, that the schedule ahead is long and daunting, or that someone was sick in the night and no one got much sleep. However the case may be, it’s hard to begin on a bad note, and that’s fair. Especially on days when we’re looking forward to something, a bad start or a rough night has a way of turning the tables that just doesn’t feel very good.

I always hate to let a bad start run the whole day, but sometimes it’s hard to right the ship in a hurry. The kids and I have made a practice of “starting over” when a day gets off on the wrong foot. As much as I hate to admit it, if it’s me who’s in a tizzy, it’s really hard to ask everyone if we can start again–but it’s worth it. Starting over usually requires some apologies and forgiveness. Great muscles for us to exercise, and hard ones to use when the whole gang is already cranky. Bless our kids, they’re as forgiving as we all should be (almost always). In a matter of moments we’re beginning again, and somehow that feels like permission to shake off our grumbling, move past our offense(s) and even laugh with each other. It usually takes away the sting of things for all involved.

Other bad days are hard to remedy for reasons beyond our control; no starting over will mend them in the moment. When I’m in the midst of a day I can’t right, I’m not always in a space to feel glass-half-full or to see where things will go on the other side. I’m sure this is natural, but still hard. So what’s best? For me, here’s a dozen avenues that often help:

  1. Playing worship music. I might not be in the mood, but this takes little investment on my part. Just having it on, the words of familiar songs creep in to my heart and mind. Either they end up encouraging me, they help me to feel understood because their lyrics are lamenting in nature, or my mood lifts because I can’t help but sing (or maybe cry, depending on the circumstance?) along with them. When I’m not in a space to go to God in clear-thinking prayer, the act of worship nudges me forward until I can get there.
  2. Connecting with a friend or a compassionate soul in my life. Sometimes this means I send a text message asking for prayer. Sometimes it’s recording a Polo message for a friend to listen to later. Often, it’s a phone call so that I can safely set the weight of my worries down with a heart that’s willing to listen. I never want to put my burdens on someone else, but the people closest to us don’t usually find our burdens to be burdensome. The peace of knowing someone else will pray or that they understand my heart is often enough to get me over the hurdle.
  3. Finding a place to be alone. This is easier said than done and doesn’t happen often, but my family knows that if I’ve retreated to my office, I’m probably in need of a little space–and they generally respect that. Sometimes I pick up a book or shed tears that need to fall. Other times, I just sit in the quiet. It’s in those moments that I’m better able to ask God for help, which always changes the game for the hours that follow.
  4. Snuggling my kiddos. This is certainly not always the answer, but a hug or just sitting with another person for a while can do us all a bit of good. The physical presence of someone else can be just the thing when there aren’t words or actions that can otherwise mend an ache. As our family gets older, I feel like we all resort to this in times of pain or sadness, and it’s comforting and good.
  5. Buying fresh flowers. This is a game changer for me. If I have the time, I drive to my favorite flower shop and spend ten minutes in the cooler picking out blooms that speak to my personality/mood. There’s always something new there that can lift me out of a haze or funk, plus the benefit of having the bouquet around for the next days or weeks is so tangible.
  6. Getting my hands in dirt. Planting, pruning, watering, repotting or sometimes even weeding is replenishing for my soul. Making something more beautiful is always a good avenue to lift my spirits. I get a little teasing sometimes for the number of plants in our home, but they all have a different way of reminding or encouraging me of something. So good.
  7. Fixing or ordering food that nourishes or feels comforting. Sometimes that’s a pot of soup. In the summertime, it’s probably a smoothie or salad. I defer to go-to things that I don’t have to think twice about to make, and often, to recipes that have long been prepared for me by family over the years. I don’t love to bake, but occasionally, making a treat to share with the rest of the household is a pick-me-up, too.
  8. Journaling. My habit of doing this has faltered over the years, but when I put pen to paper and dump my thoughts, I almost always feel better. Going back to read what I’ve written helps me to process, or to put my finger on the thing that most needs attention or healing.
  9. Praying. This one can be hard if I’m in a rough place, but it can also be the most comforting thing. In times of stress, my prayers might be crazy long or super short. Still, giving things over to God and trying my best to offer gratitude is always lifting. Even just knowing that I uttered a request for help to the One who can help me most is sometimes the lightness that I need to set a hard thing down for a moment. Being reminded of my smallness in light of His power and compassion never has a bad impact, either.
  10. Getting outside. Sunshine and fresh air are almost always helpful. While I don’t often feel as motivated to get out when it’s chilly or raining, even a few minutes can change my tune if I just step outdoors. Barefoot when possible for grounding benefits, and certainly if the kids are having a hard time, too. “Everybody out,” is a policy that has served us well again and again.
  11. Watching a tried and true show that I know will make me laugh, or picking up a book that will allow me to bury my thoughts in someone else’s story. Every once in a while I just need to stop ruminating on my own reality and be distracted by someone else’s. I don’t ever want this to become an escapist-type habit, but there’s a reason we all appreciate a good comedy or storyline.
  12. Heading to bed early. This is a foolproof way to end a bad day, right? Sometimes you just have to call it and start again in the morning. The extra sleep never hurts, and some distance from the challenges of the day is not a bad remedy either.

I don’t doubt that we all have ways of moving ourselves forward when the going gets rough, and maybe many overlap as human coping mechanisms for us all. It’s just really good to know what ours are, isn’t it? And to understand why or when they help, too? Then when we can’t see the forest through the trees, we have some handholds that light the way for a bit until the bigger picture comes into view again.

If you’ve had a bad day, I hope tomorrow will be brighter. Today has been a bit of a rough one here, and I’m looking forward to starting again in the morning. XO,

MM

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Ten Things I’m Learning Right Now. (73)

Last night I shared ten things I know for certain about our littlest babe, and tonight, here’s ten things this pregnancy is teaching or re-teaching me:

  1. God is never done with us. He is always working or willing to work on our hearts to draw us closer to Him. This pregnancy has and is bringing me nearer to Him in a host of ways.
  2. Setting my mind on things above is vital these days. Setting my mind on the end result of this season is as well. I need both to move forward with a positive attitude.
  3. I have learned to surrender more in the past seven months than in so many other seasons of life. I know I’m not in control and never have been, but letting that go to an all-seeing, all-knowing, protective and kind Father is relieving and good.
  4. Pregnancy is holy ground. Life forming inside of me amazes me every single day. I don’t understand why we get to be a part of this miraculous work, but it’s incredibly humbling that we do.
  5. My physical stamina to carry a baby is different at 39 than it was a 29. Maybe this is an obvious statement, but it’s really true that pregnancy changes with age (and number). My body remembers how to do more, but it’s cranky about more, too.
  6. I am looking for wonderment as much now as ever. Admiring creation, sharing it with our children/as a family and taking note of beauty in the world is a life force for me.
  7. I feel so alive to emotion, so aware of all things in nature, so attune to what I need and/or want in my space and life. I am more likely to reject what doesn’t fit into that picture these days…not unkindly, but as a way of protecting who I am and what our baby/family needs. This must be a mama bear type instinct. I consider it a benefit, but also a challenging feature. As an Enneagram 1 with a very strong 9 wing, achieving what I hope for or envision while also trying to ensure the happiness and peace of others is a line to tow. I can see how God is working on me in this area to be the healthiest version of myself that I can be.
  8. Carrying a baby brings me great joy. I am sometimes overwhelmed by the challenges of this task, but I’m never not elated that there is a baby in my belly. My love for all things birth and babies grows stronger with time. I’m so grateful to have the privilege of welcoming life as a doula, and I cherish the fact that I get to welcome life again as a mama, too.
  9. I am getting better at pushing away doubt and fear and turning to prayer. This isn’t always easy, but it seems to grow in me like a muscle. I have asked God to help me with this, and He is sure to answer in His own way and timing. I am learning not to waste as much energy on hard things and to relinquish them to Him instead. I do this very imperfectly and need to remind myself frequently that that’s the direction I’m moving in. It’s totally worth it.
  10. I feel more comfortable in my skin than maybe ever before. It’s not that I never doubt myself, but that I’m growing in embracing who God has created me to be. This feels really good. I want to honor what God intends for me, and to be the best steward I can of all He’s given me. I definitely still have to course correct at times, but the path is getting easier. I hope to be able to model this for our children as they grow. God only does good work, and I don’t ever want to diminish that truth.

In the process of writing this list, I’ve also been reminded that self-reflection is key for me: now and probably always. Being honest could be a superpower if I hone it the right way. I hope I will.

Grateful for these truths and for this life and for these days of counting down–it’s all such a gift.

MM

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Ten Things I Know About You. (74)

Sweet Little Honeybee,

I’m learning you better as time goes on. I can’t wait to know you face to face, but for now, here are ten things I’ve learned about you thus far as I’ve carried you these past seven months:

  1. You love music and the sound of your littlest brother’s voice. Whenever I sing to you or he talks to my belly, you move around and interact, bringing us both great joy.
  2. You respond to water, and based on how you move, I think you like it. I’ll be so interested to see if water relaxes you when you’re here in the world.
  3. You like to sit low in my belly. I’ve never had a baby settle in quite this way. You sure seem cozy there and I hope you are.
  4. God gave me a dream about you before I knew you were already growing. He’s given at least four friends a dream or a word about you since I became pregnant, too. God is so, so kind in this way, and the encouragement gives me such hope about your unique place in this world.
  5. Every time I think about a space for you, I imagine it as airy and light and warm. I expect this will suit who you are, and your peaceful nature will be a gift to all who know you.
  6. You are our seventh baby, but our fourth here on earth. You will always be a redemptive spot in our lives…a way that God is healing and has healed places in our hearts and brought lightness to our spirits.
  7. Your siblings are going to dote on you in a beautiful way. I’ve been watching them with your baby cousin for the past few days and they will care for you in a way that will likely bring me to tears. There’s so much love for you among them.
  8. Somehow you feel like a first baby all over again. I think because it’s been nearly five years since I had your brother, this season of carrying you gives me fresh eyes again as I experience pregnancy. It’s a beautiful feeling to walk along this journey as a seasoned mom, but with new lessons for the taking at every turn.
  9. You are long awaited and anticipated. Please always know that you are wanted and loved, and that you belong here in our family.
  10. God knew you before he created you. Before you were in my womb, He set you apart. You will always, always be His treasured child, and as much as we love you and will always love you, He loves you even more.

It is a great privilege to take part in bringing you into the world, little one. I love you so,

Mama

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A Prayer for Summertime. (77)

God, you are so good to us. You’ve brought us through a very tough year and sustained us when we didn’t know what exactly we needed or what would come next. You faithfully carried us in moments of fear, weakness, uncertainty and doubt, and you offered grace abundantly in so many situations we were navigating for the first time.

Now, summer is upon us–what a glorious feeling! The kids have all come through an anything-but-ordinary school year, we’ve hung up backpacks and put away school supplies, and we’re gearing up for days of swimming and fishing and growth and sunshine. It all feels so hopeful, and everything that we experience as encouragement is something you’ve offered to us freely out of the overflow of your tenderness towards us, your generosity to us.

There has been a lot of loss this past year, and now finally feels like a time when we can look forward and not back…when we can more tangibly process what we’ve felt and move into a season of joyful expectation. Would you please help us to move through the areas of hurt, pain or disappointment we feel and into a space of greater freedom and peace? Father, in your mercy, you protect and defend us against the enemy, against harm. Please send your angels of covering and protection over our families–and especially our children–as we embark on summertime adventures and fill our days with physical activity.

Lord, summer is always a gift here as we’re relieved of colder, grayer days, layers and closed up homes. Would you help us to embrace the warmer weather, to be joyful about high temperatures or hot sunshine or extra daylight and to be restored amidst fresh air and outdoor living? Please help us to be good neighbors and friends, to extend ourselves to others as we’re able and to remember those who might need extra encouragement in this season. Please allow us to be your hands and feet, and to model this for our children as well.

God, we are thankful. We’re thankful for a break from routine, for more family time together, for long days and beach sunsets, picnics and ice cream stops, baseball and gardens. We’re thankful that everything feels more alive and colorful, that our territory expands greatly as we can enjoy being outside, that we can soak up Vitamin D and care for our bodies well, and that we can enjoy locally grown produce at the ready. Summertime is so full of good things!

Heading to bed tonight, we are eager to see what you’ll do and how you’ll move in the weeks ahead. No matter where we go, we trust that you are already there, making a pathway for those who love you and pursuing those who may not know you yet. Please help us to be your hands and feet in this world that so desperately needs the kind of hope and covering only you can provide.

Amen!

MM