It’s okay to “just” be a mom.

 

It’s okay to “just” be a mom.

Light filters through the window of the playroom, casting a joyous glow on the toys littering the floor. I am here in the midst of them, legs crossed, protecting my coffee in between them like a precious gem (which in fact it is). I love my life…Don’t I?

A screech erupts behind me as my newest walker toddles towards his big sister holding her favorite Barbie. I watch the scene unfold for a bit before taking the doll out of his chubby hands. This fulfills me…Right?

I take another sip of my coffee and plan the day out in my head. Nap, snack, walk. Okay, but how am I going to get us all to dinner? Movies it is. Again. This is my dream…Isn’t it?

A few minutes pass and I absentmindedly scroll through my news feed, a habit I have picked up whenever my hands are idle. Everyone looks so productive. I can’t pass a scroll without seeing at least one #momboss hashtag. These women are rocking it. I immediately feel inferior, I need to do more- be more. Why haven’t I finished the sample chapter for my book proposal? Why is my brain constantly in a fog? How do I still not know how to template my newsletters? For the love of God can I please just get a blog post out already.

But then I stop. I don’t HAVE to do anything. It’s okay for me to “just” be a mom. God knows theres enough going on over here to keep me at my brink for years to come. I can pick and choose in each and every moment whether or not I want to add something to my plate. If I don’t want to increase my followers, or write my book, or be a health coach, or save the world, I don’t have to.

It’s okay to “just” be a mom and for that to be enough. Because it is. And maybe stay-at-home-moms are still lacking the bad-ass title that they are due from the world. But I can claim it anyway. I can claim my own enough-ness, know my own needs, know my own worth.

If I want to do more, then I can. But I don’t HAVE to. I really don’t.

It’s okay to “just” be a mom.

 

When it feels like God screwed you over.

I’ve never been able to compartmentalize my feelings to one situation. If someone has wronged me it spills over into our entire relationship until I have properly dealt with it. But until I do, it affects everything. I don’t love that about myself, but I know it’s a part of who I am. It goes hand in hand with being empathetic and sensitive, always asking deep questions and needing the answers.

I know I need God. My head believes in a higher power that looks out for us in ways we can’t comprehend. I believe that there is good in every situation and that angels surround us, stroking our hair when we cry and as the world falls apart around us. But the God in my head and the one In my heart just aren’t the same.

I came to this conclusion a few weeks ago with the help of my therapist. I have been feeling distant from God, craving lots of space from the evangelical normalcies I had grown up with my whole life. I can’t connect to many of the things that the modern church stands for, and yet there’s so much I love as well. I’ve realized that there’s a divine being that I know that I need, one I’ve been searching for my whole life, and then there is the God I’ve been hearing about my whole life. And the two are not the same.

As I grow and gain life experience, I am not willing to pretend anymore. I will not accept answers that explain away doubt and fear. I will not settle for another bible verse to stick into every situation. I want way more than that.

But in order to get there, I know I have baggage to resolve with the God of my heart. My past is riddled with painful moments where I don’t believe with my heart God was present. Everything I have learned might tell me that of course, He was. But I’m not there. I’m not feeling it. I need to work through the junk standing in my way so that I can cling to the feet of Jesus once again and fully believe that He is with me as has been with me this whole time.

Denying that I feel this way won’t help me. Walking through life submitting to the beliefs of others won’t free me. This is my journey to a deeper relationship with God. A deeper knowledge of this higher power who I am sure is much less like the God of the modern church than many of us think.

Are you there? Are you desiring God but unable to fit yourself into the box He’s been put in? Do you need to know it’s okay to rearrange every piece of your faith? Tear it all down people, rebuild brick by brick. Take the time to figure out who God is. Learn to separate that from cultural Christianity and find freedom in the beauty of both. You are not alone. So many of us are doing it. A journey to die to our own selves, and to really be more like Jesus-not who others say He is, but who He actually is.

Happy Friday dear friends!

Creating is important.

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about the importance of creating and giving ourselves room to create.

I just happen to be an incredibly creative person (although I would argue we all are creators…maybe that’s for another post). From the time I wake up to the time I fall asleep, I am constantly dreaming up projects and making creative touches to everything around me. I have come to really love that about myself and yet, it hasn’t always been that way.

Creative types often get a bad rap. We’re too sensitive and moody, or spend too much effort “wasting” our time on a craft that will “make us no money”. Many of my actor friends have been told too many times that they are an “aspiring actor” just because they are not meeting society’s standards of success.

Additionally, I have often been confused by my creativity as it spans many crafts and is not something I can whittle down to just one thing. I am a writer, an actor, a decorator, a fashionista, a cook, a painter, a furniture refinisher, a carpenter, and the list goes on and on. I always felt some sort of pressure to pick just one. What was going to be my “calling”, my “career”, the thing that people would remember me by.

But over the past few years, I have come to see my creativity as limitless. I can do anything that I want! And if I do something for a while and take a break and try something else-hooray for me!

Before Lilah was born I was immersed in theatre, and then after she was born I was writing occasionally and redecorating (aka moving furniture and decor around my house constantly). Now writing seems to be taking center stage, as well as a dance class I will be taking this fall. Who knows what is next! The options are limitless. I can be anything I want to be at any time and give it as much or as little attention as I wish.

Creating is freeing. It is worship to our creator who gave us the ability to do these things. It is recognizing who we are and saying to ourselves, “I will live in alignment with my soul”.

On this rainy day, I am burrowed under the covers as I listen to my baby girl, not nap. I am dreaming up new projects and reflecting on old ones. I am giving myself permission to be exactly the kind of creator I am in this moment. Give yourself permission to do the same.

When Doing Nothing is Everything

I’ve always been drawn to excitement, adventure, newness, importance. I want to be a part of big things, and make big, beautiful waves with my little life. In Sunday School I was always taught that God had a big plan for my life. And so my little heart dreamed real big, like being the next mother Theresa, or carrying Jesus in my womb, or being a movie star. But what I didn’t quite understand is that God’s big plans often look pretty small and insignificant to us.

We search and search for that big plan for our lives we’ve heard so much about. But in reality, we’re already living it. Many of us won’t do a “big thing”. We won’t cure cancer, or become a well-known vlogger, or be the chef at Buckingham Palace. And the truth is, If we end up in any of those places, chances are that isn’t the “big thing” in our lives anyway. Because the little things, those are really the big things.

As I sit here staring into the eyes of my rambunctious little toddler, I’m wondering about the big things. Last week I turned down the opportunity to audition for a play I desperately wanted to be a part of. But the timing felt wrong, so I didn’t. And that felt like a much bigger “thing” a much more fulfilling purpose then choosing to be home to put my baby to bed every night. But I know, those little things matter. The cuddles, the diaper changes, the many “I love you’s”, the hand holding while I’m trying to drive. Those are really big things.

Sometimes people tell me I should write a book. In fact, I have some beautiful people in my life that believe in my big dreams more than I do. But the truth is, I may write a book, I may not. I may become a known author like my dad, I may not. But I’m learning not to care so much about the outcome, the goal itself. The meat of our lives, the shaping of who we are, it’s all about the journey. The good the bad, it all somehow means something.

Yesterday I had three panic attacks. The day felt like a total flop. Yes, I got some things done, but how am I making any kind of difference in anyone’s life, including my own, if I can’t even get through an allergist appointment without sweating through my sweater. But every panic attack is teaching me. It’s teaching me that I can mom even through really hard moments of anxiety. It’s teaching me to cling to Jesus because my moments feel out of control and scary. And it’s teaching me to slow down, to care for myself, to ask for help, to breathe deep. Important lessons that should not be ignored.

If you know me at all you know that I love David. David from the Bible that is. I love his story. Lowly shepherd boy, doing the dirty work. How boring to be a shepherd? How stressful to keep the wolves away from the sheep? How chaotic to herd all those fluffy little things exactly where he needed them to go. But guys, David became a king, and I’m sure you can guess how all of those mundane tasks translated into him ruling a nation. And yes, he might have kind of messed up a bit by having a dude killed so he could sleep with his wife. But the point is, he was just a human guy, being a shepherd, and God used that.

Okay, but we probably won’t end up ruling a nation or anything right? So what if we’re just a shepherd our entire life and it doesn’t amount to anything bigger? It always amounts to something bigger, we might just not always see the bigger or be acknowledged for it. Our lives have a ripple effect, causing shifts we know nothing about.

A few weeks ago our pastor spoke a bit about Mother Theresa. Now there’s someone who did something great, right? We can all see it, and secretly, we all want to live a life with that much purpose. But what struck me was what he said about her mother. She wasn’t extraordinary to the human eye, but she always welcomed people into her home. She told her daughter from a young age “never eat a mouthful without first sharing it with others”. That example she set for her daughter changed the world.

The little things matter, they really do. Because in the end, they really are the big things. So in the mundane day to day when it all feels like a jumbled mess, or when you’ve lapsed back into unhealthy coping skills, remember that it’s all important. It’s all about the journey. Maybe doing “nothing” is everything.

While I Sit Here.

I am pinned under a sleeping infant. His steady breathing matching my own. He fell asleep breastfeeding and has been this way ever since: in peaceful slumber.

I love when he does this. I love the way his eyes flutter and his lips pout into a fishy face as he sleeps. I love the smell of his bald little head and the warmth of his teeny body against mine. These moments of stillness are so so needed in the chaos of life these days.

And yet there’s a restlessness inside of me. A constant staring at dishes in the sink or dirty clothes on the floor. The lists I make during nap times are endless. Somehow it always feels as though there is something to do, somewhere to be. It feels like (dare I say it) the sitting and waiting is keeping me from the things I actually need to do.

Ugh I hate that I put that out there. It makes me shudder to admit. But is that not true for us in so many moments of our lives? In the sitting and the stillness is where the beauty and purpose is happening, but we look on to all the “important” things that must be done. Oh how much we miss. Oh how much stress we create with the constant to do lists, the never ending goal making.

As I think toward the New Year I cringe a bit. The idea of “starting over” and resolutions has never sat well with me. I need freedom and stillness, not more to achieve and be enslaved to. And that may not be true for you and bravo for you knowing your truth! But that is mine. I find everything I need in the stillness. That’s where I have always found myself, my God, peace. Why then is the pull towards the chaos so strong?

Tonight I snuggle Beau’s body a little bit closer. Remind me of what I need little one. Pull me back to the stillness when everything around me screams to do more. Together we will rest in these moments, we will cling to them. The sweet sweet stillness that changes everything.

Just because it’s church doesn’t mean you have to say yes.

I should be napping. My little lulu is and I need to catch up on some sleep. And yet my mind keeps turning and turning as I process so many similar conversations I’ve had this year. Conversations with dear friends and acquaintances, those who are getting so overwhelmed and caught up in the “task list” of their faith.

It is so hard. We are human. We are always looking for a formula, a way to “do more for Jesus”. I cringe. It saddens me that we fall into that trap so often.

It is specifically hard in a church setting. How can you say no to serving in church? Yikes! So many of us take on a million different roles that we can barely keep up with, not wanting to say it’s too much, because if Jesus died on the cross I can serve goldfish to preschoolers, right?

Okay. Let’s take a step back. Deep breath.

Just because it’s church doesn’t mean you have to say yes.

Remember, just you being, breathing, showing up-that is ENOUGH.

I took a break from serving at church this year. My gut was telling me stop-you need a break from everything. I needed to recuperate from my own longstanding emotional battles and some big life transitions. Not that we can’t serve in our weaknesses, but that’s not always the right choice. So often we assume that doing something “Christian-y” must be what’s right for us. But do you know yourself? Are you listening to yourself? Because I believe that our gut instincts, the things we know we should do but are afraid to, those are ways that God speaks to us.

Recently I started serving again at our church in a capacity that felt congruent with my own heart, soul, emotional health. And guys, I am NOT stressed about it.

When we make decisions based on the needs of others but ALSO our own needs, amazing things happen. We are alert and happy and successful, all because we listened to ourselves and thus listened to what Jesus is trying to tell us about our own needs.

So to my friends who are struggling with feeling burnt out in service, overwhelmed with the tasks they’ve signed up for week after week in an effort to “further the kingdom”, let me ask you this: could you do more in one area if you let go of all the others? Could you give fully of yourself once a month instead of spreading yourself so thin over the course of four weeks a month? Are you taking care of your own emotional health? That is so important.

Take a few minutes and google verses about Jesus resting. He wasn’t constantly doing big things. He was often resting up so that he could give more at one time.

Deep breaths, let go of what you need to, you are serving Jesus by learning to know yourself. Knowing yourself and honoring yourself honors him and his plan for your life.

Amen.

The little things are important.

Many of my conversations with others share this common theme; this need for purpose, excitement, newness. The hum drum tasks of life just don’t quite cut it and we are constantly searching for more.

When I break it down it’s all quite confusing. I’ve heard my whole life how Jesus is rest for the weary, and there have been times in my life where I have felt that so strongly. But hand in hand I have also gotten the message that I must do and achieve and work hard for his kingdom. In the Christian culture, aren’t missionaries idolized? We don’t look at stay at home moms or businessmen and say “wow. Look what they are doing for the kingdom of God”.

What a mistake we are making. To promote this culture where doing more equates to serving Jesus more. I just don’t buy it.

And so I’ve been on this mission in my own life to really sink my teeth into the sweetness of every single moment. To treat the little tasks in my life as if they were a great adventure with so much purpose and meaning. Because even though it may not always look like it, everything we do has promise.

Of course serve. I’m not saying that we shouldn’t do things for others or get out of our comfort zone, but what I am saying is that the little things are important. Grand gestures and big ideas aren’t always the best ones.

I guess the key is, are we listening to Gods voice? Are we so in tune with that greater plan that we can feel content in every moment because we know what we are doing has a purpose beyond what we can imagine? It’s so hard to live in that peace. But that’s what I want for my life. Not the certainty that I’m doing everything right, or that Im impressing anyone, but the acceptance that everything I do has a purpose and it’s never not enough.

When Setting Boundaries Is The Best Way To Love.

We have big ambitions.

We want to love every last person on this earth.

We so badly want to reach out to those in need, to be the hands and feet of Jesus, to rescue the broken.

But sometimes guys, it’s not our job.

Sometimes the best way to love is to take a step back.

Relationships are powerful things.

Sitting in the presence of another is a powerful thing.

We are human beings, and we can greatly affect each other.

I have a tendency to melt into people.

I soak up their pain, their sorrow, their brokenness. I soak it in until it is weighing me down like an overfilled sponge. I am no help to anyone when that happens.

And so I am learning to say “no”. I am learning to know my limits when it comes to being in relationship with others.

When someone we love is in pain, we just want to fix it. We want them to know they are not alone, and so we do anything and everything we can to show them they are loved. That we will be there no matter what.

But at what cost?

Do we ourselves begin to crumble under the toxicity of the relationship? Do we begin to lose sleep, our own sanity?

You see, we can love without melting into the other person.

We can say “no” and still care for them.

We can hold boundaries that are necessary for us, and still be loving like Jesus.

In fact, Jesus said, “Love your neighbor as yourself (Mark 12:31)”.

It is just as important to care for our own emotional needs as it is for the needs of others.

And sometimes that means trusting God enough to take a step back. To let go of our need to control the other person’s situation. And to trust God to lead the way.

It’s easy to get so caught up in what we think we need to do to love others, that we forget to listen to God’s voice. We say, “no worries. I got this”, but we forget that we’re not the ones driving the car.

Let’s stop trying to save the world on our own. Let’s stop trying to mend broken hearts in a frantic frenzy because we feel like we need to. Let’s sit back and be still every once in a while, and let the Savior lead us where he needs us.

Let’s relax into the same arms that are holding the world. He’s got this.

Lies Anxiety Tells Us.

Anxiety is ruthless.

And while this post last week was an encouragement to respect our fears and listen to where they come from, we do not have to listen to the lies they spin.

Anxiety is a nightmare.

Someone once told me that if I truly believe that God is bigger than anything and everything, then I wouldn’t have such crippling anxiety.

She obviously doesn’t struggle with anxiety.

It’s a war zone. a series of battles inside of myself that are sometimes won and sometimes lost.

Some days I wake up and I am ready to take on the world, and other days going outside seems like an outrageous task.

Anxiety spins lies in our brain like “You are not good enough”, “you can’t do this”, “you are a mess”.

It takes a seemingly simple work party, or a trip to the park, or a grocery store run feel like climbing Everest in bare feet and a bathing suit.

It steals precious moments from our lives without us even knowing it.

Most nights when I come home, I sit on the couch and take a deep breath and realize my shoulders have been clenched up to my ears all day.

Anxiety. The silent dictator.

A wise person once told me to let fear ride in the passenger seat, but not to let it drive.

I love this imagery.

I imagine this faceless person next to me in a cute convertible, they reach to change the station and I say, “no way. you can ride along, but I’m in charge of the details”.

I know It may sound incredibly weird to actually give your anxiety permission to be a part of things, but really all anxiety is, is a part of ourselves that wants to be heard. That doesn’t mean that we have to live our whole lives enslaved by it and it is a frustratingly ongoing process. But by letting our anxiety sit in the passenger seat, we can keep an eye on it and allow it to feel heard, while still driving the car.

I know sometimes the burden of anxiety seems too great, and it feels like there’s nothing you can do to get off of the hamster wheel. Sometimes the last thing we feel we can do is muster up a corny pep talk.

So when that is the case, and you’re missing one more social event because you’re in panic mode, tell yourself that you’re doing the best that you can, snuggle up on the coach or draw yourself a nice bath, and give yourself a break.

Anxiety sucks you guys, and the least we can do is be on our own side.

The thorn in my side

This thorn in my side anchors me to Jesus.

My eyes wander, my heart flutters to other things to fulfill it; but my anxiety, that thorn in my side, it is the most uncomfortable blessing. It keeps me clinging to Jesus because I have no other choice. Even when I’m unsure of my faith, the theology surrounding me, my place on earth-there’s this still small voice experiencing something greater than myself.

When I was a teenager I was sure I wouldn’t live to be 21. In fact, I didn’t want to live to be 21. For someone whose life felt like constant turmoil, It seemed like an absurdly long time to be alive. Childhood trauma had festered into wounds I had no idea how to heal. I was self-medicating and limping my way through life. Christianity was a muddle of “dos” and “donts” that I couldn’t keep up with. I felt deserted by the God that was supposed to be with us in our pain. But regardless of it all, I still found myself clinging to Jesus in the recesses of my subconscious, on the off chance that he actually existed and cared. And so it’s been my whole life.

I’m 28. I’ve lived well past my 21st birthday. In many ways, I am so different than I was 10 and 15 years ago. But even though I’ve worked through so much emotional pain, I will always be an empath, sensitive to others and the world. Earth will always feel a little unsettling to me. But when I find myself seeking comfort in things that ultimately give me no true joy- like endless shopping, seeking the illusion of perfection, self-medicating. I am reminded of the gift that I’m too much of a mess to ever think I can do it on my own. Thankfully. If I didn’t wrestle with daily anxiety, emotional ups, and downs, chronic OCD and perfectionism, I can’t say I’d cling to God in the same way or be able to acknowledge my need for that relationship regardless of whether or not I am angry at God in that moment.

I’m not in love with Jesus all the time. I ask lots and lots of questions and demand answers from God which may or may not include a few expletives. I am daily confused by modern Christian theology and cannot stand the constant use of Christian buzz words.

I’m just figuring it out. Still navigating through past traumas and shame, still experiencing panic attacks and dark days and lots and lots of messiness. But I do know that whoever God is, whatever he or she is really like. It resonates deeply in my soul. So when nothing else makes sense and I don’t know quite where I belong, I just cling to that.