the one about too-much, too-little, and just-right

My dog threw up 6 times and peed in the house - all between the hours of 10 and 2. I read my Bible as Elmo shrieked in the background. I bathed a little girl who went one too many days without a bath. I fielded phone calls and emails and texts and details for and about the campus ministry. I braved a downpour to buy more paper towels for additional vomit-related emergencies. I felt guilty relying on Sesame Street to entertain my baby while I put away the groceries. I threw laundry in the wash, and threw out expired things from the fridge. And even with all of that - I feel like I’ve accomplished nothing at all. Ever feel like that? Like all the “little” things you’re doing amount to practically nothing compared to the length of your to-do list?

Since Rosie entered toddlerhood, so many things have gotten easier (hang in there, moms of newborns!) and I am cherishing this stage of constant babbling and discovery and the peace of a predictable, simple nap schedule. But at the same time, I feel the pressure of togetherness. I feel the guilt of too-much and too-little: She watches too-much TV and reads too-little, she eats too-many carbs and too-little veggies, we bathe her too-little and her routine changes too-much, she sees me worry too-much and pray too-little, I clean too-much and play with her too-little, I clean too-little and work too-much, I work too-little and relax too-much. AH! The cycle of too-much and too-little is TOO MUCH for one person to handle! You feel me?

I sent some friends a text asking for help with mom-guilt today. And you know what I realized (for the millionth time) as the responses started coming in? Almost all of us will feel this ebbing sense of not-doing-enough or not-being-enough at one point or another. And I’m convinced that it’s not just a wife or mom thing. I think it’s a human thing….and maybe a human thing that especially affects women. We are all just out here doing our best.  

Earlier this summer, I was feeling especially stretched in some of the roles God has given me and incapable of rising above my weaknesses. I also felt discouraged that trying to grow meant failing and falling down more often. On one particularly dark afternoon, I called a mentor in the faith and dear friend and she told me that this season of my life required more faith than I’ve previously possessed. I’ll be honest - that wasn't exactly what I wanted to hear. I was forced to acknowledge that my faith and trust in God couldn’t stay the same if I actually wanted to grow - I had (and have to continue) to take it deeper. But then she reminded me of something that I’ve remembered every day since, “Alexandra,” she said, “think about Rosie learning to walk. She hasn’t learned how quite yet but don’t you have every confidence that she’ll eventually figure it out? Of course you do! Do you ever feel frustrated with her for not knowing how to walk yet? Absolutely not! You rejoice over each wobbly step! You clap and celebrate with her over every single step! And that’s how God looks at you - he looks down at you with every confidence that you’re going to figure this out eventually. He’s not disappointed when you fall or annoyed that you’re not walking quite yet - he rejoices over each and every step you’re learning to take! He is clapping for you just like you clap for Rosie!” And now every day that I see Rosie toddle away or fall down and get back up with a smile on her face - I’m reminded to do the same. I know that I still have my fair share of too-littles of this and too-much of that, but I have a Heavenly Father that is cheering me on over each unsure, awkward, topsy-turvy, but completely-determined step. And for today, that’s just-right.

"Three different times I begged the Lord to take it away. Each time he said, “My grace is all you need. My power works best in weakness.” So now I am glad to boast about my weaknesses, so that the power of Christ can work through me." - 2 Corinthians 12:8-9

the one about {mornings}

Because of the Lord's great love we are not consumed,

for his compassions never fail.

They are new every morning; 

great is your faithfulness. 

- Lamentations 3:22-23 

Rosemary Jane arrived on July 22nd at 11:37AM. From that first morning until now, mornings have become my favorite time of day. Each morning, when my Rosie wakes up - I am giddy all over again, eager to hold the cutest bundle of answered prayers I've ever seen. Don't get me wrong, there have been nights of blown-out diapers and spit-up on bed sheets and un.real.exhaustion and drama-queen tears (her's...most of the time!) and did I mention exhaustion? - but all of those stressful moments fade away when the sun comes up.  The sun rises, a new day starts, and once more I get to kiss those long-anticipated sweet cheeks, see those little (but pudgier-by-the-day) arms stretch and stretch, and watch a teeny, toothless grin smile back at me and light up my whole world. 

Lamentations tells us that God's compassion for us is renewed every morning. Let's think about that for a second -- like, really think about it: Everyday, God looks at us - at YOU - with the doting eyes of a parent with fresh eyes of love, of grace, and of compassion. Yesterday's mistakes are wiped clean and the tears, the metaphorical "blow-outs," and even the tantrums are forgotten and replaced with a whole new helping of love. Our God chooses to forget and instead, I imagine him looking at you and I giddy to see our grins and eager to connect with us anew. After all, if I, with my limited amount of patience, can extend daily compassion to my daughter - how much more can our Heavenly Father do the same for us? 

Over the last six weeks, I've connected with this idea of God seeing me with compassionate eyes like never before. I meditate on who the Scriptures say He is - a Father eager to enjoy me, eager to console and soothe me, and eager to meet my needs.  And let me tell you - I have had a LOT of needs as of late. I've needed His grace like more than ever as my physical and emotional weaknesses have never been more obvious! I'm realizing that this verse (and many others) promise me access to this mistake-erasing, all-encompassing, absolutely relentless love every morning.
And me?

Well, I just get to smile back.

...

 Our friend, Jonny Havens, an unbelievably talented film maker, made Rosie a welcome-to-the-world video as a gift to us! Jonny made us our wedding video (only his second ever!) when he was an undergrad at Emerson College. Anyway, he made us this video and I cried when I watched it - cause, you know, hormones...and UGH SHE IS PERFECT. And believe it or not, this is the short version he made for us. The website won't let me upload a file that large (buh!) but the longer one is on Facebook. Anyway, I hope you enjoy!

xoxo

A+J

*All photos by Fergie Medar Photography*

the one where i pulled the plug

*not a post on euthanasia* 

In mid-June, I temporarily deactivated my Facebook. It was my first time deactivating since joining Facebook back in 2006 -- you know, back when you had to have a college email address to create a profile? Over the course of my 10 year Facebook career they've invented about a thousand other ways to keep us connected.They added news feeds, opened registration to moms and grandmas the world over, created the chat and messenger features. But in my case, these tools of connection threatened to turn into something a little more sinister - a method of comparison.

So back to June: I was reading this book, and the author asked where we turn in times of anxiety and stress. She asked if we turned to social media to self-medicate - or if we turned to God. It was a question I already knew the answer to. I turned to social media. And inevitably, at the end of these scrolling sessions, I would leave feeling dissatisfied, even more discouraged, and increasingly self-focused. I saw someone's latest adventure and felt dissatisfaction for my own life creeping in. I would read someone's great, beautiful news and be tempted with jealousy. I saw another person's opinion laid bare about some news story or political event and begin to get stressed out. Isn't it amazing how many temptations can come up from a simple scroll?! 

So right then and there, I did something I had been unwilling to do for a long time -- 

I disconnected. 

{Cue my husband doing a happy dance and nearly instantaneous relief washing over me}

Here's what I discovered in my time off Facebook: 

• The world didn't end because I didn't know about so-and-so's engagement or watch so-and-so's hilarious video. In fact, I felt free to enjoy living in my reality rather than someone else's. 

• The birthdays I really needed to know, I remembered/saw them on Instagram/apologized if I was a little late. And guess what?? No one was angry with me! Another valuable life lesson - people aren't usually angry with you for not knowing things :) 

• I had more time to be more present in the real world. I followed more news stories and got a little more educated on the world at large rather than the lives of acquaintances over the Internet. 

• There are plenty of ways to reach me outside of Facebook messenger. Can we all just agree that messenger is the WORST? I'm bad enough at responding to emails in a timely fashion much less an entirely different medium that needs its own separate app!  So anyway, it was nice to finally not disappoint someone for a little while.

• There's something liberating about not knowing. "Sorry I don't have Facebook," became my favorite sentence. All of the sudden, I was free of my 21st century, self-imposed expectation to be constantly "plugged in."  It was inexplicably freeing  find out information a little late - or even, gasp!, not at all. I found I worried about people a little less and trusted God to take care of them a little more. I prayed rather than investigated their Facebook posts. I prayed...and then maybe checked Instagram...but really and truly, my anxiety level went down. 

• Facebook stalking is a sport I will never be in good enough shape for. I think you know what I'm talking about: Your best friend's profile leads to someone else's profile and pretty soon you're down the rabbit hole of someone's cousin twice removed who lives atop a mountain in France with her model husband and chunky baby (with dimples) - and oh look!, she's got another on the way! Before you know it you're coveting someone's life in French and needing to get open with a friend about your secret shame...but then afraid of judgement. Then, you spend the next half hour determining if your Facebook profile pictures look as cool as that couple with a baby on a european mountaintop - change it 15 times, "maybe that one pic of me studying abroad 7 years ago still looks hip?" - only to change it back to the one with you and your dog because - everyone likes a good puppy pic, right? Whew. See what I'm talking about?? EXHAUSTING. And I needed a break (ahem, repentance!) from my severe cyber-stalking.

**disclaimer: I decided to keep Instagram and Twitter. On those mediums, I follow a limited number of people and therefore, have found it less of a black-hole of comparison.**

• Bottom line, I learned that I wanted more for my life than what social media offers. Going forward, my life should be more than a collection of well-curated images, more than witty statements made in 140 characters or less, and more than "likes." After all, I follow Jesus and I'm pretty sure a lot of people wouldn't have "liked" his posts (And believe me, I don't mean this in a high and mighty way - but rather as one of the worst offenders!). I want to do better. I want to be better. Yes, I still want good pictures, fun trips, and dare-I-say-it, approval from those I love - but I hope and pray that I get to a place where those things matter less and less to my own sense of worthiness. I hope and pray that my ego learns to takes a back seat. Who cares what image I present on the internet if the image of Christ isn't the first thing I'm portraying? How easily I had forgotten (ahem, keep forgetting) that my image and my worthiness are not measured in comparison to another person's. Rather, I've exchanged my tattered, too-stretched, ever-flawed image for the unchanging image of Jesus. I've exchanged human approval for the approval of God - and he has already deemed me good enough, valuable, and loved.

 So fast-forward to August and I'm back on Facebook but with a new-found perspective and some self-imposed boundaries. Why go back, you ask? Well, primarily, because it's helpful for my job in the ministry (we use Facebook as our primary mode of communication for announcements with our students) and also because I missed the good pieces of it - swapping life stories (and even sharing my blog) on it! So anyway, here I come Facebook! But beware, if you mess with me again, this time -- I won't be afraid to pull the plug.

What about you? Could a little Facebook break be just what the doctor ordered? :) 

the one she needed to write

she's here

she's a woman caught between stages. she's fixed somewhere between just married and happily ever after. she's not sure who she is. she's not sure who she's becoming. she's unrecognizable. she's ever-changing. she's ever the same. she's defined by this. she's undefined. she's all the things. she's none of them. there's a chance she's crazy.

she hurts

she feels dramatic. she hates that. she wants to pray. she cries instead. when she cries, it's not soft and sweet. it's snotty, red-faced, and audible. she feels embarrassed. but she feels a little better when she stops.

she aches

she goes on living. breathing in, breathing out. she listens to friends. she congratulates good news. she smiles. she laughs. she aches and she aches. she answers 'fine.' she means it sometimes. other times, fine is a fine-line. but overall, she's fine.

she longs

she doesn't want the moon. she doesn't crave the stars. she daydreams of normal. she dreams of no-meds, no-shots, no incessant blood tests. she dreams of pink lines and plus signs, nausea and swollen ankles, booties and sleep-deprivation. she vows to savor. she vows to never complain. she makes promises she knows she can’t keep. she does it anyway.

she waits

nothing is bad. it's more the absence of good. she has seen what could-be. she has felt what might-be. she wishes it came easy. she wonders if it's her fault. she wonders if God knows, if God cares. she wonders what he's doing up there. she keeps going. she keeps praying. she keeps going.

she wonders

she meditates on His promises. she wonders what it all means. she holds on for dear life. she rides the waves of uncertainty. she fixes her eyes on the Father. she paints his or her face in her mind. wondering what kind of special human is being prepared in the heavens. she thinks it must be someone special. someone she can't wait to meet. but someone she's always known.

this is me

the one with the waiting

I hate waiting.

I mean, I HATE it. 

I hate waiting the two minutes for my coffee to brew and get into my cup. 

I hate waiting in lines at the grocery store. 

I hate waiting in traffic. 

I hate waiting for things I want.

I hate waiting for a baby.

Most people who read my blog probably know my big (ahem, skinny) sister. She's the real writer in the family - she effortlessly combines depth, story-telling, advice, and humor in the best kind of way. You also may know that she has four {beautiful, amazing, perfect} children -- and that before there were four, there was infertility. I watched my sister pray, fast, weep, persevere and everything in between during those trying years. 

I always feared that her struggle would become mine when I was ready to try for children. And here I am, relating in my own younger-sister kind of way. I haven't been trying for a really long time but I haven't been trying for a short time either. I'm not going to say exactly how long it's been because I'm sure there are people that have waited for less time / more time than I have who can relate to what I'm experiencing.

I'm consumed with waiting.

It's all I can think about right now. I want to say otherwise. I want to say that I'm fine, that I'm faithful, that I'm at peace, that I'm full of trust, joy, and all those qualities our Lord so perfectly embodies. But I don't feel that way right now. I feel far from that. I know that anxiety makes getting pregnant harder. But how on earth am I supposed to not be anxious right now? I know that this isn't a form of punishment and that I'm young and that Sarah had a baby when she was verging on...dead...but I was kind of hoping for something less difficult, less wrinkly.

I want to just bask in all that I do have - and I have SO much. I feel humbled by all that God's given me and I feel angry at myself for being consumed with waiting when God has done nothing but bestow mercy, blessing, grace, and love in my life. Who am I to question God's timing or God's plan? He's perfect and prayerfully, one day, with a baby in my arms, I'll look back and sigh all motherly and wise and say, "Wow, God's timing was perfect and so much better than mine."

But that's not what I feel right now.

When I was 14, I proclaimed Jesus as my Lord and was baptized into his name. As a young teenager, I remember making him Lord of my doubts, my selfishness, my young-teen emotions. And I meant it. I surrendered and I gave him control of my hormone-ridden life. But really, at 14, I was making a decision to keep making Jesus Lord. At every age, at every stage. I re-made that decision at 15 when my parents moved me to a different state, a different high school, a different culture, a different church; again at 16 when a teenage boy broke my heart and I felt ugly and unlikeable; again in my early twenties when I was in college, dealing with a painful breakup, single and vowing to stay faithful even if marriage wasn't in the cards for me; again in Georgia, again in New York, and here I am again, vowing once more to make Jesus Lord of this circumstance. I'm reminded that I made Jesus Lord of my life at 14 - but really, I'm called to re-make that decision daily. Sometimes it's easy. Sometimes it's difficult. But I find that the real test for me is fairly consistent - will Jesus be Lord of the waiting? Will Jesus remain my Lord, the director of my life, the controller of my decisions while I wait between the mountain-tops, the victories, the blessings?

I answered yes at 14, I'm answering yes at 27, and I promise to keep answering yes.

At every age, at every stage:
Jesus is Lord.

the one where i got {God} all wrong

"Growing spiritually" can sound a little generic, Christian-y, and virtually meaningless in our modern religious world, can't it? It can be easy to talk the talk of faith and devotion but much harder to sit down and actaully meditate on our connection with the Maker. But there's something about the changing of the seasons that helps me to stop and consider these deeper subjects. As I've been doing that, I've had some realizations that have awed and unnerved me all at once. Maybe they'll encourage you as much as they've been changing me. 

While Jesse and I were in Florida last month, we spent a lot of time talking with my parents about everything from marriage, to our cities, and to our lives in the ministry. During our last dinner (dad's famous steak, of course), we started discussing me and my guilt-ridden self. To be perfectly honest, Jesse MADE me talk to my parents about it...I pretended to be annoyed but I was actually incredibly relieved to talk with them - J knows best:) As it happens, my dad happens to be a recovering guilty-soul himself so he had a lot of insights to share. 

As we talked about what I was feeling, it was clear that my understanding of God and his character had gotten very....off. At some point over my 12 years as a disciple, I started believing that the Father we serve looks at me with ambivalence or worse, displeasure. And that he feels this way all or most of the time! This one lie, this one thought, had started to define and corrupt our relationship. And the more I've opened up about my adherence to this lie - the more I've started realizing that I'm not the only one who believes it.

When I sit down to study the Bible with people for the first time and talk about Christianity, I love turning to Matthew 7:7-11.

“Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; the one who seeks finds; and to the one who knocks, the door will be opened. “Which of you, if your son asks for bread, will give him a stone? Or if he asks for a fish, will give him a snake? If you, then, though you are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will your Father in heaven give good gifts to those who ask him!"

I love this passage because it offers a guarantee of sorts - if we ask something of God - he's going to respond with kindness and grace. But this passage also forces us to consider how we view and look at God - do we view him as a loving father who wants to give us what seek? Or as a rude being who desires to give us a snake and "teach us a lesson"? Of course, I want my answer to be the former - but if I'm being honest, I intellectually know that God is a loving father but I can typically feel like he's the second guy - not totally pleased with me, intending to withhold good things, and typically bent on teaching me something the hard way. 

Sounds like an appealing God to follow, right?

Now where did this warped and twisted thinking come from, you ask? Is it the result of a relationship in my life? Or the culture I grew up in? Is it from my intense perfectionism? Or a weird interaction I had as a kid? Maybe. But I don't think so. The best I can tell - it is a lie as old as time and it started many, many years ago in the Garden of Eden. 

When that snake (ahem, Satan) tempted Eve in the Garden, he convinced her to eat from the tree God banned by convincing her that God was holding out on her, that he wasn't fully letting her in, that he didn't like or love her enough to give her everything in the garden. Now, was that true? Of course not! God was protecting Eve. He was trying to keep her safe from sin and shame and keep her completely and utterly close to him. But she believed the lie. She believed that God was holding back on her and it changed our connection to Him forever. 

Isn't that the same lie that you and I can believe at times? That God is holding back on us? That he doesn't like us enough to give us what we so desperately want? That maybe, just maybe he doesn't love us completely?

As I talked with my parents about some of these things, it became obvious that I needed a perspective overhaul and a reminder of who God really and truly is. It was time to stop exclusively meditating on the "what" of my Christianity and start focusing on the "who". Since that conversation, I've started studying out Jesus' character (I highly recommend the book Jesus the Same -- amazing!!) and remembering God's love for me everyday in my prayers. I keep reading and rereading Romans 8:31-39, willing myself to remember that God's love for me does not vary with my performance, my behavior, or my effectiveness as a disciple. Nothing can separate me from God's love! My dad has also taken it upon himself to send me different verses everyday about God's love and mercy - it's the sweetest thing in the world and my favorite use of iMessage ever:) 

All at once, I'm remembering that God's love is the ultimate reason and motivation for becoming and staying a Christian; it's the answer to our hurting world. Now don't get me wrong - I still whole-heartedly believe that God cares about our actions and our repentance. In fact, I'm convinced of that now more than ever! But I'm also realizing that his love grants you and I the freedom to try to please him all the more - without the fear of failure or the risk of loss. A complete, unshakeable, and unending love like this can provide us with a God-given confidence to face our weaknesses head on, give our hearts to others more fully, and step out on faith like never before. His love can propel us towards righteousness and growth more than duty or obligation ever will! 

I'm not sure if this is something you needed to hear on this September Friday -- but it sure is changing me. I hope that you find some time to bask in the total love of our Maker this weekend. It's incomparable.

xoxo

A+J

Romans 8:31-39