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 where I turn thirty

When I was 23 or 24, I found this quote on the then-new Pinterest, "You only get ten years to be in your twenties." At first, I loved this graphic...so much so that I made it my desktop background for awhiiile. After all, my time as a twenty-something was fleeting and those words served as a reminder that I should take advantage of every moment and every opportunity afforded to a young, non-wrinkly, zero gray-haired, but completely in debt, young woman! Carpe Diem and all that jazz! But as the months and years went on - these words began to haunt me. Ominous, intimidating, and flat-out scary - these words might as well have been followed by a "DUN, DUN, DUNNNN." This quote led to anxiety-laden thoughts: "What if I'm not maximizing my time in this decade?! What if I don't travel as much/get in as good of shape/accomplish as much/have as much/become as much like..." -- the list goes on and on. And so I felt defeated by the very words meant to keep me inspired. Eventually, off the desktop the quote went (praise hands) - but they remained etched in the back of my mind.

Today, as I spent my last day in my twenties, I couldn't help but feel a little off. Between Tim McGraw's "My Next Thirty Years" blaring in my mind's ear (is that a thing?) and that freaky quote from 2012 -- I was feeling a tad introspective. After all, I didn't quite accomplish all the things I thought I would when I started this decade: I am not the editor-in-chief for Lucky or Elle magazines (shocker, right?), I don't own a house (much less a vacation home), I don't live near my family OR in New York City, I don't have lots of designer clothes in my closet, I don't have a million stamps in my passport, I'm n in the best shape of my life  *she says while eating warm chocolate chip cookies and a glass of cold milk*, I haven't written a book (in fact, I can barely blog consistently), I don't have as many kids as I thought I would by now, and I am very, very tired. Virtually nothing in my life looks quite like I thought it would when I turned 20! Allow me to first say: thank goodness. Clearly, my 20-year-old self was slightly consumed with the wrong things  in life! And although I'm extremely grateful that some of those expectations didn't come to pass (ahem most of them), there was a piece of me that felt a little worried that I didn't live my last 10 years to their fullest potential. Like what if I didn't live my best, most exciting, 20-something-year-old-life?! Please tell me I'm not the only one who has had this kind of existential age crisis?!

But as I read through Ecclesiastes today (nothing says quarter/mid/whatever-life crisis quite like Ecclesiastes, am I right), I was reminded that my life and my 20s aren't measured by my accomplishments. The quality of these years is not measured by my achievements, workplace accolades, possessions, dress size, followers on Instagram, cool trips or experiences, bank account balance, or even -- gasp -- my relationships. My years are measured by one thing and one thing only - my Maker. And according to him, well, if I'm still making every effort to become like his Son, I'm doing alright! I can't even begin to tell you how liberating that thought is for me!

When people live to be very old, let them rejoice in every day of life. But let them also remember there will be many dark days. Everything still to come is meaningless. Young people, it’s wonderful to be young! Enjoy every minute of it. Do everything you want to do; take it all in. But remember that you must give an account to God for everything you do. So refuse to worry, and keep your body healthy. But remember that youth, with a whole life before you, is meaningless. Don’t let the excitement of youth cause you to forget your Creator. Honor him in your youth before you grow old and say, “Life is not pleasant anymore.”

- Ecclesiastes 11:8-12:1 NLT

Meaningless, meaningless. Without God, it's all meaningless - gotta love the bluntest book of the Bible :) So ultimately, I'm positive that my thirties will be different than what I expect and probably filled with a lot more spit-up and a lot less "glamour" than my twenties...and that I'll probably stay tired for the foreseeable future (update: Rosie was teething all night so yeah - sleep and glamour are officially out. the. window. But sweet baby snuggles are IN!). Cheers to a decade of letting go, remembering the Creator first, sleeping the exact-same-not-nearly-enough amount, and attempting to eat more salads and a few less french fries.

It's time to check on my sweet, sleeping daughter and convince J to watch that episode of Friends where Rachel turns 30 with me. Thanks for joining me as I've attempted to make sense of my twenties. Can't wait to keep keeping it uncomfortably real with you all in my thirties. Is there any other way?! Stay young, y'all!

xoxo

A+J

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 with the rejoicing

Well, here I am - finally emerging from a long (and needed) hiatus! So many things have happened since I lasted posted: we kissed summer goodbye, cherished this fall's extra bright foliage, welcomed lots of students into our campus ministry family, turned 29 (okay, that's as of today), endured countless doctor appointments, prayed and cried and prayed some more, and finally, and I mean finally, got pregnant!! I spent the majority of November and December in a state of delighted shock and happy-exhausted-nauseous-but-crazy-happy haze. As the reality of this little miracle sets in - it's hard to even begin to express all that my heart wants and needs to. I'm fairly certain that this post will turn into a series...so prepare yourselves...but also know that I won't be offended if you don't want to follow along. 

That said, today, I'm not really going to discuss the journey or the process or the heartbreak - I'm going to start at the end; I'm going to begin with the rejoicing. 

We found out we were pregnant earlier than we should have...mostly due to my own impatience. I caved and took a pregnancy test (much to my husband's very-wise and very-careful dismay). I day-dreamed of positive pregnancy tests and plus signs more times than I care to remember but there was never a time where we even came close to a positive. It was all stark-white pee sticks for us (sorry, TMI). The first positive brought equal parts shrieking (on my part) and cautious optimism (on J's). We were worried that it could be a false positive due to some medication I was taking so I sent a photo of the test to two friends who had experienced a similar infertility journey. Both texted me with so much enthusiasm I thought my iPhone might explode like a Galaxy Note. A teeny flame of hope began to light in my heart. 

The next morning, I woke up before the sun, heart racing, and took another test. Still. Positive. This flame started to become a full-on fire at this point. I told the only person sure to give me both an accurate - albeit emotional - response: my big sister. Let's just say that when she saw those pink lines - there was zero heart-guarding going on. All the tears, all the joy, all the shock, all the relief. Watching someone you love accept the news that you can't quite believe is the best, most surreal feeling I can describe. 

Two agonizing days (and an election) later, we went in for a blood test. Around noon, the nurse called with the results and we listened - stunned - as she told us what we longed to hear. 

"You're pregnant!" she said, with a huge smile in her voice. We thanked her profusely (through the tears), got off the phone, and Jesse and I just held each other weeping and asking each other if we believed it. I'm not quite sure if we did. We thanked God through the shock and basked in the miracle.

The next few days were filled with sharing the news with the prayer warriors who stuck by us through our darkest days. Seeing their eyes light up, tears stream down their faces, and all of the finally happy prayers -- humbled us in a way I can't describe. 

Romans 12:16 says, "Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn." I think most of us know this verse by heart but I never saw it truly come alive until we faced infertility. Just like I day-dreamed of a positive pregnancy test and just as I still dream of this sweet, sweet baby -- I also dreamed of finally telling people that God heard their prayers on our behalf. I longed to see my faith and the faith of our community become sight. I had a feeling it would be special - but nothing could have prepared me for the outpouring of love Jesse and I received as we shared this news. 

When you wait as long and as publicly as we did, there are moments of so much exposure to the struggle and your own weaknesses, that you're tempted to wonder if it's worth it. However, yet again - God taught me that vulnerability breeds closeness like nothing else. So many of you (that I hardly know!) prayed for us, shed tears for us, and have since rejoiced with us. Each of you have built my faith in indescribable ways. Through you, I dared to believe that God sees me, that God hears me, and that God cares about what I care about. After all, if we as sinful humans can have so much compassion on one another - how much more does our Father in Heaven long to "satisfy our desires with good things" (Psalm 103:5)?

For those of you still waiting, still mourning, still longing - you may not realize it - but you have a community at your disposal who longs to be there for you. Many of you have waited longer and through more trying circumstances than I can begin to imagine - and I cannot and will not pretend to truly understand your pain - but I can promise that God sees you too, he loves you too, he cares about you just as fervently, fiercely, and fully as he cares about anyone else. I hope that the story of our answered prayer gives each of you hope. I long for the day when you too experience the gift of sharing your good news, only to see your own celebration reflected in your friend's eyes. 

Here's a little video I made of some of the responses I got to witness :) And there may be a little announcement at the end that's worth waiting for...

All our love and all of our gratitude, 

A+J 

Photos courtesy of 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 with all the {remembering}

Ever had a season where things weren't quite what you expected? A time when you expected glory and victory only to be met with struggle and straining? Although I wish we could just go from strength to strength in our spiritual walk, it seems like we typically go from mountaintop to valley and valley to mountaintop over and over again. And during the valleys, I immediately forget the glory of the mountaintop! Instead, (and maybe I'm the only one), I bemoan the valley like I've never ever EVER reached a summit at all! A tad dramatic, right? Well, as I've been reflecting on this truth, I've come across something interesting in the Scriptures that I wanted to share this morning. 

Have you ever noticed that God constantly retells the same stories in Scripture? Repeatedly, he reminds the Israelites of his exploits on their behalf - that he chose their forefather Abraham, that he led them out of Egypt and through the Red Sea, that he rescued them and brought them into the Promised Land. I mean really, it's 500 years later and he's still telling them the SAME story! You know why he does that? Because they're still amazing! 

It's not that God is trying to be his own hype man or that he's being like that weird relative who keeps telling you about his "glory days" of yore (Uncle Rico, anyone?). No, he's trying to remind them - and present-day followers -  that he's powerful, that he's able, that he's still worthy of their trust. And not only that, he's reminding us that he is still capable of doing miracles in our lives today! 

I will remember the deeds of the Lord;

yes, I will remember your miracles of long ago. 

I will meditate on all your works

and consider all your mighty deeds. 

- Psalm 77:11-12

What about your mountaintop stories? Do you remember when God parted the Red Sea in your life? Do you remember the chains of sin he set you free from? What about the answered prayers you've witnessed or the things you've seen him do in the lives of your friends, family members, fellow Christians? 

Remembrance is a powerful thing. It helps us to keep going and keep trusting in difficult circumstances. It reminds us that things can change and that God has helped us overcome before - and he can certainly help us to overcome again. 

With all this in mind, I bought myself a new journal (is there any greater thrill?), and dedicated it to one thing and one thing only - remembrance. All week, I've been sitting down and writing the things I've seen God do in my life. I've written down the big, obvious things and I've written the things that seem insignificant now, but were HUGE at another point in life. I don't want to forget any of it. 

As I've been writing these victories down, my faith has been strengthened. After all, the same God who orchestrated the victories of the past is certainly capable of doing so again! I'll eventually reach another mountaintop, but in the meantime I can rejoice in what the Lord already done for me. I have plenty of lessons to learn in the valley and miracles to reflect on as I wait. 

I hope this has been helpful. 

Happy Thursday!

xoxo

A+J

why i hate blogs {sometimes}

Back when blogs were first getting started I found them weird, confusing and well...lame. And then I started reading Cup of Jo. I'm pretty sure Joanna Goddard's blog was nearly everyone's "gateway blog". And then it was the Sartorialist: Everyone's favorite photo fashion blogger. And then it was the Mormon moms (seriously, an obsession  - Daybook, Rockstar Diaries, etc). And then it was Kendi Everyday and others. I love these blogs. I love reading their stories, learning about their families, looking at their photos and imitating their style. I love that blogs give me ideas and help me plan adventures. I love that blogs help me to notice the little things in life and to enjoy them for all they're worth. I need those reminders. 

But to be honest, I've been feeling something for a while. Something I need to get out: part of me really hates blogs. 

Why? Because sometimes, they tell you that your life doesn't measure up. Instead, they hint that you won't be happy until you have {a husband, baby, cool city, delicious new restaurant, DIY project}. They can even make you feel...wait for it...dissatisfied. Like maybe your relationships/trips/special moments aren't quite enough. They sometimes tell you that everyone else has it right - and that you are the exception. But you my friend, are not the exception. 

To all my friends out there who struggle to wonder why their life isn't as glamorous as the blogosphere - I'm here to tell you that I don't think anyone's is. I sat in my small group at church the other night and listened to one of the girls talk about the importance of people getting the FULL picture of her - strengths, weaknesses, good days and bad days. And it reminded me that you don't get to see that on social media. Nope. Not in the slightest. In social media - you get the most polished, witty, perfectly unapproachable version of things. 

Take me for example: I post an outfit a couple times a month because the other days - I don't look so fashionable. I tell you about all the fun things my husband and I do but I don't tell you about the nights where we just watch Castle and maybe even {gasp} get in a disagreement. I tell you how much I love my family, but I don't tell you how terribly home sick I get for them when they're far away. I tell you about how much I love my job, but I don't tell you how exhausting it can be. I tell you about my clothes but I don't tell you that I wish I was a size smaller or that I wish I went to the gym more. My life is not perfect. I am not perfect. I do not have a baby, I'm broke almost all of the time, I say the wrong thing at the wrong time, I can't find my digital camera, I don't work in the wedding planning or photography industry, and I don't go shopping very often. I am a person who has been blessed with a husband, a job, a city I really enjoy and great friends - and yet some days, I still have to remind myself to remember those blessings.

Here's the truth: dissatisfaction and malcontent don't make anybody happy. As women, I think we're often waiting for our life to start. We think to ourselves (but never say aloud), "I'll be happy when I graduate/land a prestigious job/get married/start a family/get financially stable/my kids are in school/etc. But the thing is - those things won't necessarily make life perfect. In fact, each one comes with it's own unique challenge. So if we're waiting to be happy until things get perfect - we're always going to be waiting! And while we're waiting, we miss out on some of life's most special moments! 

So for all of you out there who compare and contrast your life with your neighbor, best friend, fave blogger - I am definitely apart of this "all of you," by the way - let's stop, shall we? Instead, let's choose to love our little piece of life that God has given us right now and let's cheer for other people who have received God's blessings too. 

Want more on this subject from a spiritual perspective? Read Jeremiah 17:5-8. 

If you're wondering where this little rant came from...it came from me. But I was also inspired by this article I read the other day. 

xoxo and Happy Friday!

A + J

PS We're off to a campus retreat this weekend in New Hampshire. The theme is Join the Revolution. And currently my plan is to listen to/perform the Les Mis soundtrack for the entirety of the car ride. Just thought you would want to know that little tid-bit:)