People often go to church, thinking that's where they'll find God.  But often times God shows up where and when we least expect it.

At my weekly Moms Group we share "Selah moments" - taking the time to pause and reflect and see and share how God has shown up.  I was so excited to share last week about this . . .

At the end of our 3,441 mile road trip last week, we were literally pulling into the driveway at midnight on a Saturday night.  A long day after a long trip.  I wasn't ready to commit to getting up and around early the next day for church.  Until I remembered what was going on at a church in our neighboring town.

Baptism

There are lots of ways to define or describe baptism.  One way I would is to say it is an outward symbol of an inner change.

My dear friend's brother was being baptized, and I did not want to miss it.

After spending 10 years in a life celebrating sin, he had changed.  God showed up and changed him.  And I gotta say, I did not expect it.


I think of all the prayers prayed over all those years, and, to be honest, I did not expect this.  God showed up, and God surprised me.  I think God surprised a lot of people with this one.

So, I wanted to be there to celebrate.

And I wasn't the only one.

Catherine has been really curious about baptism lately.  When she heard there was going to be a baptism, she wanted to be there too.

It was a powerful service, and the Spirit was stirring in the hearts of the people there.  People made decisions to follow Jesus, and people made decisions to be baptized.  Those being baptized shared their stories.  Stories of redemption, stories of forgiveness, stories of victory, stories of grace.  Stories of Jesus and the power of His transforming salvation.

And Catherine got to hear all those stories.  We celebrated with happy hearts, applauding hands, and teary eyes.

Photo by Amber Wilkinson

And God continued to show up.

That evening at dinner, as she had been doing for a couple days, Catherine eagerly volunteered to pray before we ate.  She started with her usual mumbled and quiet expression of thanks for the food and a simple request for a good day.  Then her voice became loud and bold as she continued,

"Please, God, can I come in your heart?  Please Jesus, can you come into my heart?  Please can you be my Savior from sin?  Amen"

Lifting our heads, Josh and I looked at each other, stunned and wide-eyed, across the table.  That was unexpected for sure.  I mean, it's something we have often discussed together and prayed for.  But I didn't think it would happen already or like that or totally of her own doing.

Well, her doing and His doing.

You just never know when He's working.  In the hearts and lives of grown adults who may have written off God or may have been written off by the church.  Or in the hearts and lives of young, spunky, strong-willed children.

You just never know.

I've attempted multiple blog posts in the last few days.
But things have just been off.
The timing.
Availability.
Computer and photo issues.
Inspiration.

And this blog post I didn't plan to write.

But sometimes the feelings are too great to keep inside.
The thoughts and the pain have to come out.
And, for now anyways, this is where they land.




It's just a stroller.
And a car seat.

But now they are officially for sale.

"Gently used" the ad reads.

We went gender neutral on everything.  Even though we knew we were having a girl.

"We'll have two and then see." was always our answer when people asked us how many kids we wanted.  Either that or "Two to four."

One was never an option.
One was never our plans.

I always wanted a big family.
Big families have more fun.
I learned that from The Cosby Show.

The last few weeks have been rough.
Too rough to detail.

Last week was the 5 year mark from finding out we were pregnant with Catherine.
5 years.
Thanks, Facebook, for the reminder.
I went to bed early that night.
Cried myself to sleep.
Feeling broken that I can't reach that status again.
Like my body has failed me.
Betrayed me.

My hopes and plans and desires have been battered and abandoned.
I'm left without them.
Laying helpless with a part of me ripped out and gaping open.


But God.

But God knows the plans He has for me.

But God will take all that He has made and use it for good.

And what was intended for the negative, God will use for good.

He is good and He is faithful and He is loving.
In the midst of my pain, He is my comfort.

I sing it.
I say it.
I believe it.
And I remind myself of it.

Catherine's first ride in the stroller

As a teacher, my husband doesn't do a TON of out of town travel for work, but in the last month or so, he's been gone twice for conferences.

I shared the other day about what I did while he was gone for the first trip.

Leading up to the second trip, I was completely stressed.

I don't know why.
Maybe because he'd be gone for multiple nights.
Maybe because they were predicting a blizzard just before he left.
Maybe because he was going to be gone over my birthday.
Yes, my entire birthday.

Maybe because he does all the shoveling, and I was going to be alone right after a blizzard and knew I had to find a way out of the driveway and knew I had to somehow clear the driveway for company coming over.  (Because, after all, a girl shouldn't have to spend her birthday night alone!)

Even the bobble-head owl has had enough.

Regardless, I was a mess.

The day before he was to leave we were texting.  I shared about how the weather was messing up so many of my plans and about how stressed and anxious I was feeling.

He replied,

"Don't worry about the shoveling. I messaged {insert name of man from church who has a snow plow} to see if he could check on you and plow you out so you won't have to do it.  I take care of my girls."

It was just as simple as that.
A reminder that I didn't need to worry or obsess or stress or try to control it all.
A reminder that he takes care of us.
He sees those he loves and knows our needs and provides for us.

Oh, how it reminded me of our Heavenly Father.
How sometimes I try to control it all, thinking that it's up to me to know what's going on and to try to be in charge of it all.  When really all I need to do is trust that He knows the situation.  He knows me, and he knows my needs.  And He will provide.

And sure enough.  At the perfect time, our snow plowing friend showed up and cleared the driveway.


Obviously I have no control over the weather.  What else am I trying to handle when really I need to release and let God manage it?

What might you be trying to control when you need to give it up and give the reins back to the Father?

Your job?
Your kids?
Your lack of kids?
Your passions?
Your future?
Your marriage?
Your singleness?
Your housing situation?
Your health?
Your appearance?


God, thank you that my life is in your hands.  Help me to remember that I don't need to worry about controlling it all.  Help me to give up control and trust in your provisions.

So, this is really recent and still pretty raw, but there's a message behind it that I believe is worth sharing.

Remember that work-from-home job that I picked up just a few months ago?
Yah.
I recently made the really hard decision to leave that job.

There were great things about that job and even greater potential.
But I really felt God telling me that it was taking me away from my family and that it just wasn't the right time for that job.

It's been really deflating and discouraging.
So I started asking myself "Why?"
"Why is it so devastating to leave that behind?"

And I came to realize that I was really struggling with the thought of losing the title "work from home mom".
I hated losing that defining part of my identity.

There are a lot of different layers and aspects of my identity, and the truth is, many of them are fleeting.  I mean, in all honesty, many things that I use to define myself could be snatched away in an instant.

Wife
Mom
Work from home mom

Any of that could change overnight, so I can't get caught up in allowing my identity to come from those things.

I have to remind myself that it is my identity in Christ that is constant, never changing.

Yes, I can still describe myself in ways such as "wife" and "mom" in an effort to find commonality with some readers.  But I also have to look at the qualifiers that I am or that I have just because of who God says I am.

So, here are some reminders.  Mainly for myself.  But maybe also for you.  Maybe you are struggling with your identity too.  Consider what is fleeting and what is constant.  I want to be grounded in the things of the never changing Father.


This list is something I received from my Moms' Group, and it would be a great list to study further and even add to.  Can I encourage you to skim the list and see what truth reaches out and speaks to you? 

Maybe you need reminding that you are His child.
Maybe you need to remember that you are His chosen one.
Maybe it's the reminder that you are redeemed and made new in Christ.

These are the things I cling to as my circumstances change and my boat gets rocked through the waves of life.

Who Am I?

I am the salt of the earth. (Matthew 5:13)

I'm working at Starbucks for a bit today.  Not "my" Starbucks, but instead the one by my parents' place.

This location is where I spent hour after hour, day after day, trying to adjust to a new old life over 10 years ago.

I had moved back home after being out on my own a couple thousand miles away on the West Coast.

And I tried to adjust by writing.

Are you familiar with NaNoWriMo?  It stands for something like National Novel Writing Month, and I think it's officially some month during the fall season, but that year I wrote during August I think. 

The goal of NaNoWriMo is to write an entire novel (50,000 words) in one month.
I didn't reach that goal.
But I wrote my heart out.
It was my way to process the huge life adjustment that I was undergoing.

It was a couple months after that that I started "blogging" via MySpace.

Ha ha, MySpace...  Can you call it blogging if it's not on a real blog?

I guess if I can participate in NaNoWriMo (that is seriously NOT easy to type, by the way) in August, I can blog via MySpace, huh?

Today I posed the question on the social media pages I manage for a small business, "What is your too-good-to-be-true dream job?"

For me, this is it.

Writing.

It's kind of scary to admit it.

But I'm learning to embrace it.
To pursue it.
To study it.
To grow it.

I believe God has gifted us individually with talents and passions and skills, and my gift is writing and encouraging.

This year I'm trying to remove the excess stuff in my schedule.  The stuff I'm not gifted in but I'm somehow still participating in.  It's not a goal to remove those items so I can just have a more simplified life or more time to relax and play Candy Crush.  It's so I can have more time to practice and strengthen my gifts.

This is me.  My one life.  I want to be the best me I can be and live the life that He has called it to be.

With a name like Very Sleepy Girl, it shouldn't surprise you that I am often tired.

Some days of being endlessly on the go, I get home and just want to sit on my Ikea Ektorp sofa, put my slipper covered feet up on my second-hand painted coffee table, and just rest for a moment.

But, a certain four-year-old in my house expects three meals a day.

Thankfully we've got her doing a self-serve breakfast most days, but that still leaves two other meals to prepare.

I could write paragraph after paragraph, page after page, post after post about all I'm doing wrong.

Seriously.  I don't cook.  I don't clean.  I complain.  And I procrastinate.

Some days my daughter practically drags me out of bed.

I nag my husband.

I don't exercise.

I eat out too much.

I don't budget.

There are all sorts of failures in every possible category.

But, for a change, can I just focus on something I'm doing right?

I can't resist a picture of sleeping beauty.

Tonight with both Josh and Catherine in bed and me still downstairs working on an upcoming event, I kept hearing random noises coming from upstairs.
Curiosity got the best of me, and I tried to tiptoe up the old creaky steps in our 110 year old farmhouse.  Fortunately, Catherine's sound machine and fan covered up the creaking, so she had no idea I was standing outside her bedroom door.

What I saw and what I heard made my soul rejoice.

Catherine lay in her bed with her nightlight on, surrounded by books and bears and blankets.  She was reading aloud The Prayer that Makes God Smile, underlining words with her finger, moving left to right, row after row as she read her own version of the story.

I love hearing her read, seeing what she remembers of books, and what she improvises.

I love seeing her mimic how we read to her.

I love that she gets how it works to see the letters on the pages and know that they make up the words we say.

But what I loved the most is the message she kept proclaiming tonight.

Yes, she really fell asleep like that one night.

"We have to eat every good thing.  Like apples and oranges and bananas.  Chips are ok.  Hummus is healthy."  She's been really interested in labeling food as "healthy" or "junk food" thanks to borrowing my parents' The Berenstain Bears and Too Much Junk Food.

"We have to obey our mommy and daddy.  We have to do what is right.  We have to obey God."  I started thinking of conversations I'd initiate tomorrow to talk about why we should obey.

"God always loves you.  God always protects you.  He protects you during the day, and He protects you at night.  He protects you from bees.

"He is with you always.  You can talk to Him all the time.  He listens to you all the time.  And He loves you all the time.  He is our provider, our helper, and our King.

"He loves you, guides you, and protects you.  Jesus died on the cross for you.  And He loves you always.  He loves you forever.  As long as I'm living, my Jesus He'll be."

She continued sharing the same positive message, some of which was borrowed from I'll Love You Forever  also from my folks' collection.

It was so encouraging to realize that she's hearing the message.

She's hearing it from Josh and me.  From her grandparents.  And aunts and uncles.  From her summer Wednesday church program.  From her teachers at Children's Church.  From the daily devotionals we have together.

We're doing something right!

And this "something" is a very important thing.

I stumbled across a post this evening written by a man who appears to have it out for the church.  So, it's going to be easy for him to find faults with Christians.

He shared his first-hand experience of how he witnessed the low-life down the street snow blow the sidewalk of the entire block.

He then shared how the man at the holy church next door has never gone an inch beyond their property line in their snow blowing efforts.

I know it can seem petty or insignificant, but Church, the world is watching.  Don't let them use you as their excuse.

Let's get one thing clear:

Just because I wrote one post about trying to be content with being a family of three doesn't mean I am.

It's a struggle.

An ongoing struggle.

With no easy answers.

My double edged sword is this:  I want more children, but I'm terrified of being pregnant again.

Looks like I'll be adding the "Keepin' It Real" label to this post too.  I've had a lot of those lately.

People offer suggestions or solutions, but there are no easy answers.

We are all going through personal battles that may look simple or petty to someone else.

I can easily think of friends who have lived through tragic chapters in their life:

infertility
miscarriage
loss of babies
loss of a husband. . .

There are no easy answers.  I'm not going to try to come up with any.  I will grieve with my friends.  I will be with my friends - in person or in spirit.  And I will pray for my friends.  Pray for God's comfort to be in their midst.  For His presence to be felt.  For faith to remain steadfast.

This post wasn't originally going to be about others' struggles, but I just felt the need to acknowledge them.

My current struggle:

What to do with baby stuff.

It hurts deep in my heart.


We are going through a time of purging, which in our case is always good to embrace.  I have hoarding tendencies and a bit of an obsession to keep things, "just in case."  Heaven forbid if I got rid of something only to need it again a few months (or years) later!  At least that's how I think about it.

The reminders are everywhere:

Baby toys.
Baby shoes.
Baby clothes.
Baby car seat.
Baby blankets.
Baby socks.

And as we go through things, it's obvious these things have no place in our home currently.

But what do we do with them?

 Do we buy more storage bins, box 'em up and move 'em to the attic?  At some point, a line has to be drawn.  Even the attic has its limits.

Is there any point to keeping them?

It's hard for me to write the other option:

Do we get rid of them?

Getting rid of Catherine's old baby things means one thing:

Acceptance that this is it.
This is our family.
A family of three.
No more babies.
No younger sibling for Catherine.
No matching white twin beds for her and a sister.
No "Big Sister" shirt.
No baby announcement.
No more growth to our family.
Catherine will never know what it's like to have a sibling.
No nieces or nephews.
No Aunt Catherine.
It's the end of our family.


I realize no matter what we do, God can do anything.  But to get rid of it all means to let go of our plans, our hopes, our dreams.  And that is just plain hard.

It hurts.

And that's my current struggle.

Isn't there some great quote about good intentions and plans?

Well, life doesn't always go as planned.

I'm sure we've all learned that by now.
In one way or another.

I shared about it before, but it was never our plan that Catherine would be our only child.


I don't want to offend or hurt others with sensitive topics, but at the same time, I want to write my thoughts.  So, if you are sensitive to the subjects of having children, only children, conceiving, pregnancy, or infertility and don't want to read or think about such things, feel free to skip this post.

I've started writing this post a few times in my head but never actually on the laptop.

Or the blog.
Where others can see it.

But I'm all about keeping it real lately.  I am encouraged when others do, so maybe my risk of vulnerability will be in some small way an encouragement to someone who needs it.

For the last few years I've created a grand Christmas card/letter/photo montage.

Yes, even when I was single.

I know the idea of doing such a thing is sometimes mocked, but I think it's great.  I'm always happy to get something like that from others in the mail and to keep up with friends from far away.  I also enjoy documenting a review of the year - maybe since my memory is so bad!

There may have been one year in there right after Catherine was born where it didn't happen because it was just too crazy of a time adjusting to life with a newborn, but I'm not sure (See:  I told you I had a bad memory).

For the last two years we've hired a photographer to take Family Photos for the purpose of including them in the annual Christmas card/letter/photo montage.

2012

2013

This year, however, I've just kept putting it off and putting it off and finding one excuse after another and finally having to accept the fact that Family Photos just might not happen this year.

And do you know why I haven't been so eager to make it happen?

Because this isn't the family I thought I would have this year.

Whoa.  I just wrote that.

Please please don't hear me saying that I'm not grateful for the family I have.  I am incredibly grateful for this family that God has put together.


But when I think about poses and I compare our family to other Family Pictures (it's quite hard to find families of three where the child isn't a baby), and then I find the families with a multitude of children. . .

It feels as if there should be another member to our family.

Oh man, this sounds ridiculous when I put it out there.  I know we have been blessed with our child, and I know there are those who would be happy with "just" one.  I am happy.

But it's been a process.  An adjustment.  And a letting go of my desires and my expectations (there's that word again) and my wants and the comparisons of others.

(Go ahead.  Insert the Frozen theme song here.)

And I guess I'm learning to do that.  To let go.

Because guess what:

It looks like we're actually getting Family Pictures taken this weekend.  Pray for me.  Pray for us.  Heck, pray for our photographer as he has to deal with us!

So, that's step one.

Step two will be actually choosing a photo to represent our family.

Step three will be ordering the photo cards and sharing them with our friends and family across the states.

And saying:  This is our family.  Our family of three.  That I am so blessed to have.  And so grateful for.  And I'm not going to love them any less if we are not blessed with more.

May I have that contentment.  May I have that peace.  May I have that joy.

Because this is so true:  "Comparison is the thief of joy."  - Theodore Roosevelt

I want to celebrate the crazy, silly family that we are.  Even if it doesn't look how we thought it would.  It it truly something to be thankful for!

Once upon a time there was a man who I thought I was going to marry.

I'll go ahead and ruin the ending for you:  I didn't.

There were painful and multiple breakups that led me down a path of great depression and loneliness.

An emptiness that only God could fill.

My battle cry during that period was that God was with me even if I couldn't feel His presence.  It was a daily reminder.

Time passed.  My heart healed.  And God brought someone else into my life who did indeed become my husband, for which I am so grateful.

But for a moment, let's go back to that former suitor.

One of the "red flag" warning signs for me that he was not my Mr. Right was seen every single time we went to church together:  He refused to sing.

The time of our church service where we gather to worship and sing praise to God together was often the most meaningful time of the service for me.  And then I would look over at him and see him standing there, just observing, and not participating.

But I'm not going to dwell on the negative.  Or the past.

So fast forward a few years to this point in time.

The man that God brought to me is a music teacher.  And he regularly serves on the Worship Team at our church.  Those are the people who sing on stage as a guide and model to others.

He sings.
He likes to sings.
He loves to sing.

Tomorrow, for the second time, he is filling in for our regular Worship Leader and leading the entire congregation in singing.


 This irony is not lost on me.

I'm glad I waited and did not settle for what was not God's best for me.

God is the giver of all good things, and I am rich from His blessings.  Thank you, God.