Trust God

"Trust God" is never bad advice. It's a high calling. He is our peace. He is our protector. He is our Father. 

I have never been in a position that required such faith in God before. My struggle to follow is not a superficial one. The struggle I have experienced is by no means a lack of trust in Him, it's really more of a struggle to understand my part. Does trust mean It's time to be still, or time to take action? Does faith mean I just need to persevere (because He will provide) or let go (because He will provide)? Do you see my dilemma?

 I cannot tell you how many times I have been told to "let go and let God," in some way, shape or form in the last 9 months. It's usually said with the best of intentions, but it's said often nonetheless. The truth is, I live a blessed life. A life where we are able to live on one income and I can stay home with our kids. I have been able to watch my kids grow before my eyes. I have seen all of their firsts. I have been able to care for them when they are not well. I have been able to fill our home with laughter and memories. However, things aren't easy. Financially we planned for me to work. I planned to build my business after Reia was born so I could pursue my passions while helping to supplement income for our growing family. I planned to be the easy going mom who didn't bat an eye about taking weekend trips away to focus on my marriage. I was going to be a fast food mom. I was going to be the non-organic-it's-ok mom. I was going to be the chill mom... The spontaneous plans mom. 

I was. 

Plans didn't change suddenly. In fact, it took me months to realize that I was no longer just "delaying my plans, again" I was rewriting them. That's not a lack of faith, friends, that's life. God is no less faithful in my life because life is not going smoothly. I am not ungrateful by acknowledging this... I have prayed in faith that Reia would have better health. I have prayed in faith that we would experience more freedom as a family. But when Reia turned 9 months old I made a decision to acknowledge the ways our story has been rewritten. Up to this point I prayed in faith that God would allow her poor immunity to improve, that he would allow us to travel to see friends and family, that he would allow me to work, that we wouldn't spend so much on Doctor's appointments, that I would have time to be able to care for myself better.

I still believe that God is able to do these things. I believe that we are growing closer to God, each other and our church family during this experience. But I also believe that God doesn't make mistakes. What has changed, essentially, is that I trust that He doesn't want me to work right now. I trust that he will provide for us financially, somehow, but it won't be through me. I trust that Reia has a long road ahead of her and it will need my full attention at times. I trust that most people have no idea how overwhelming and confusing these 9 months have been, but that doesn't mean they dont sympathize. I am confident that just because someone thinks I am not trusting God, that doesn't mean they're right. I trust that my struggles, your struggles and "their" struggles are all struggles... And we can support each other without comparing them. I trust that we have humbly sought help and assistance from every side. I trust that we are making the wisest choices we can on our budget. I trust that I have taken a challenging year and made incredible memories for my family to look back on, in spite of our struggles. I trust that God's assignment for me this year is to fight, but fighting for my family looks different everyday. Sometimes fighting means we make it to bed time without raising our voices with each other. Sometimes fighting means we forgive each other's exhausted messy feelings. Sometimes fighting means pushing for more bloodwork and tests to determine what is ailing my baby. Sometimes trusting means listening to our Doctor and missing out on activities for weeks at a time. Sometimes fighting means we choose to silence satan's lies that threaten to steal our joy, harmony or confidence. Sometimes fighting means allowing myself to grieve the changes we have experienced so that we leave no room for even an ounce of resentment. 

Faith is a living organism, folks. It is the dark we shoot into. It is what fills our hands when we decide to let go. If it doesn't bring you to tears, to your knees, or to the edge of all you know... Is it really faith? 

“Now faith is the reality of what is hoped for, the proof of what is not seen.”

Hebrews 11:1 HCSB

Hebrews 11 goes on and on about how believers did things by faith... By faith, by faith, by faith... And in the end, all of them were "approved" by their faith, but none of them saw what was promised. We may see easier days in this lifetime. In fact, I'm sure we will! But none of it is our final destination. This place in all of it's imperfection does not appeal to me when I remember the glory ahead of us. The many things I wish we could do... It's all less shiny in comparison. For now I choose faith. For now I wait to see if I am being called to action, or called to be still. I trust that it will make sense someday. I trust that none of our struggle is in vain.

When we welcomed Reia

THE STORY:
I am what's considered a "survivor" when I gave birth (Book) I won't go into much detail about this, only to be vulnerable and explain that sexual trauma has influenced my journey as a mother in a profound way. My first birth was a difficult experience, followed by months of postpartum depression. The day we learned we were expecting our second child, I was honestly a bit anxious. However over time I sought support and committed to make this pregnancy the healthiest experience it could possibly be, physically and emotionally. I wanted to combat my fear of "what if?" and let's just say, I had an incredible pregnancy. We chose to birth at home, we found a great midwife Rebecca, I had a mother blessing, I invested in essential oils, I filled my life with great music... It was incredible.

Around 36-weeks I was swimming with my 41-weeks-pregnant sister and my 2 year old daughter, when my 2 year old decided to sprint around the pool toward the deep end. I instinctually pulled myself out of the pool to get to her, quickly realizing that I hyper extended my round ligaments while doing so. I began contracting. A warm bath and essential oils calmed things down, but from 36 weeks until 40 weeks, I suffered from prodromal labor due to ligaments that were hyperextended, a pubic bone that had shifted and my pelvis had tilted backward. I know this because I eventually saw Dr Zimmerman who specializes in prenatal chiropractic health. Thanks to her work, I found relief from my prodromal labor and was set up to have a healthy delivery! *i cannot imagine the labor/birth I would have had were it not for her expertise!*

The birth:

The night before my water broke we were with my parents and brother's family, grilling out. We decided to go for a walk after dinner and see if maybe we could get my 41-week-baby to commit and finally come on out. Nothing really happened that night, I noticed my contractions were evenly spaced, 15 mins apart, but that wasn't close enough to alert everyone around me. We went home, I mentioned to Jason that i could tell these were real contractions, but we were a long way from true labor. He nodded politely, knowing my oldest child sent very similar contractions for a whole 24 hrs before she was born. He was cool and collected, knowing I would keep up my over-sharing and he wouldn't miss a thing.
The next morning I was up, sent Jason off to work his half-day shift, Gemma was up with the sun and wanted to play. I did laundry, made a pizza, colored and cleaned... Around 11am I told Jason "We are definitely having a baby today... No rush, just prepare yourself... I'm still not telling our parents yet in case I'm wrong." (I was 41 weeks pregnant, he knew the drill, I told him everything... So these frequent updates were just for my peace of mind and he knew it, bless my heart.)

Around noon my dad called, just wanting to chat... I thought to myself "oh no... I don't remember how to have small talk!" I tried to hold a conversation during a few contractions, but I just couldn't stay focused, so I wrapped it up and went back to eating my pizza *mmmm*. Jason got home between 12:30 and 1, I was happy to see him, we needed to get the birth stuff together! By this time I was contracting every 7-10mins.

I had meditated for 9 months on a water birth, using the song Oceans by Hillsong United (Song). We decorated the nursery with an ocean theme, It was amazing and very effective. My oldest, Gemma wouldn't nap in her bed that day, so we cuddled on the couch and we both fell asleep. This was an incredibly rare occurrence, so I was once again affirmed that this was true labor, as a calming gravity seemed to draw Jason, Gemma and I together.

Around 4pm I felt a contraction and a pop, as the baby dropped lower. I noticed a little extra fluid, but It didn't even fill my pad, so I wasn't confident that my water had broken.  I messaged my midwives to get their opinion, they had me take an amnio test from my birth kit to see if my water had broken. Yep! Tested positive! Turns out not everyone's water breaks in a giant gush! I went back to resting on the couch, I nursed Gemma through one contraction, knowing we would have my parents come get her soon. Breastfeeding triggered very strong contractions so I messaged for my parents to come pick her up ASAP. While waiting for them I slowly walked and grabbed some items Gemma would need for her FIRST sleep over (ever). I was growing emotional, wishing I could prepare her better, but I was quite distracted by the contractions at this point. Jason was still playing XBox when they arrived to pick her up around 4:30pm. We both expected this to be like my first birth, at this rate we have 12 more hours... So not in a hurry. I hadn't updated him in about 20 minutes, so he had no clue that things were serious enough that I had asked my parents to come.

(This is a nice place to explain that the cervix isn't a crystal ball, things can change quickly In labor, no two births are a like, etc...)

I felt most comfortable in the bathroom sitting on the toilet, so I stayed in there for a while by myself. I felt that things were getting serious so I messaged my midwives around 5pm, telling them it was time to come for support and delivery. I then moved to kneeling at my bed.

I just have to say, I am extremely proud of myself and my focus through some pretty intense and quick contractions. I breathed into my contractions and relaxed various parts of my body as I envisioned melting through the floor. As a birth Doula myself, I "doula'd" myself and tried to identify how far I had to go between my contractions, an effort to conserve my energy. In the midst of each contraction my heart was fully present to "open" and welcome our little one. As things intensified I began chanting OPEN.

Around 5:30pm my first midwife arrived and began monitoring baby and helping me breathe through contractions. Jason was on the phone with my sister in law/ photographer, trying to discuss with ME if I felt this was baby time. I couldn't answer, so my midwife politely told him "she's getting pretty serious, I would have her head this way." Between 5:30 and 6pm, two other midwives arrived and began inflating our birth tub immediately. I tried side lying for a few moments. They were about to check my cervix for dilation around 6pm, but the baby wouldn't have it so I asked for help to go to the bathroom to pee (yes, you heard me, not poop, PEE.) 

On my way from my bed to the bathroom (4 feet away) I began feeling the urge to push. They encouraged me to try and wait (you know, so they could stop trying to set up the birth tub and put a tarp down to deliver a baby in my bed room instead!) But I couldn't. This was just after 6pm, my photographer came in at this point. While holding on around Jason's neck, I stood in my half bathroom and delivered our daughter, catching her myself. I am very thankful I made it to the tile, because as it turns out, about 90% of my amniotic fluid was still in my uterus at the time that I delivered my daughter, making quite a splash as she came out! It was such a whirlwind, such a beautiful, heavenly whirlwind. I didn't get the water birth I had dreamed of and prepared for, but because my focus was on my meditation, rather than the details, my experience was perfect. It was empowering and messy and memorable and exciting and profoundly healing.

Reia Kaye Cordelia made her appearance at 41 weeks and 1 day. Arriving at 6:14pm on August 14th, weighing 9lbs and 21 3/4" long. I was officially in active labor for 2 hours and 14 minutes and loved every minute of it. To read my about my journey during my pregnancy meditations on Oceans, visit my blog

Photos by Angelyn Moura Photography @ http://angelynmouraphotography.com/photographer/

Charcoal Brownies and Grace

Based on the title alone, you're probably eager to hear what I have to say. If I am being truly transparent, I am eager to hear what else God has to say to me on this topic as well.

GRACE.

I live a rather minimalist life. As far as it depends on me, I try to scale back and really un complicate my life, home and schedule as much as I can. It's just more manageable that way. It keeps my introvert battery from reaching 'E'. It has been this way for as long as I can remember! As a child I begged my mom for alone time (since i didn't have my own room, this had to be sanctioned). It wasn't personal. It wasn't selfish... It was introversion. Our needs are quite personal when we are drained. Be it quiet, a hobby or just an empty room... We need space.

I learned a long time ago that I want to give my family good things. I want to be able to play my part. I want to love them in word AND in deed. So I make my quiet time a priority. I have learned that I cannot short cut that quality time...why? Ah yes. That's what it is. Alone time is my heart's way of receiving my love language... Self love is so vital. If I don't actively give myself LOVE... Then exactly what is it that I am giving them?

This brings to me to today's title:

Charcoal Brownies and Grace.

Yesterday I had a God moment. The day before, I ordered groceries online and arranged to pick them up before lunch the following day. I know our schedule, so I timed it perfectly. But I had forgotten my wallet at my in law's house, so I stopped there first. Upon arriving I learned that their plans were evolving, so free time had come up and they expressed willingness to watch the girls while I run over to the store. I paused thinking, Well, I ordered the groceries online... So it's really just THERE AND BACK, but 30 minutes alone sounds great! So I chugged my coffee and took off. Upon picking up the groceries, I began chatting  with the woman helping me load them. She was so sweet and kind. Obviously a mom (you can always hear it in their voices.) She could tell we had kids by what I purchased, but saw that I was alone. I joked, Here I planned my whole day around making things simple and smooth with my girls... And now I have this spontaneous time alone! Too bad I already said I would be right back! This woman, no more than 45, looked at me as if we were old friends and said, Don't go get them. Just don't. Take care of yourself. They are happy, healthy and safe. Don't go get them. I smiled and realized why I felt such a connection with her... She was being Jesus to me. So I called my mother in law, she was happy to keep them longer.

Fast forward. Jason and I communicated well. I made my needs known. We had a friend over that evening. I cooked our favorite meal, the house was in it's normal condition. Nothing extraordinary was happening. We finished our evening, our friend went home... Crap! I thought. I forgot to make brownies for Jason's work party. Offering to make brownies was really the sneakiest thing I could have done. You see, I make brownies way more often than I would like to admit. Let's just say we are wealthy with brownies. I could make them in my sleep--- Or so I thought. I put the brownie dough in the pan, preheated the oven and set a timer. Jason asked if I would cuddle with him for a bit, so we weighed our options and I chose to step away from the kitchen. As you can probably assume, I never heard the timer go off. Not because the sound doesn't carry to our room (a factor I had considered before stepping away). No, the reason I didn't hear it is because I fell asleep. I didn't foresee this happening because over the last 4 months I have been getting my alone time at night once everyone falls asleep. I was physically unable to sleep until I had that quiet time. This day was different. This day God gave me grace. He surprised me with an outting alone. He filled Gemma's extrovert batteries AND my introvert batteries at the same time. I fell asleep so naturally because I felt peaceful. 

I have been asking myself for 24 hrs now... WHY?? Why give me such a gift, why demonstrate such grace at the grocery store... If I was just going to go home and screw it up? 

A beautiful friend of mine asked me this morning "Are you surrendering to this season?" Meaning... Our kids are little for such a short time... Am I rushing? Am I expecting too much of myself? I laughed, not yet fully grasping the question: "I chose BROWNIES! Three ingredients and POOF. I chose these over making Gumbo, or chicken noodle... I am choosing easy, simple... I'm not overextending myself. Should I just quit? Should I not even do the little things for Jason?" I didn't have an answer. All I could figure is that this is unnatural. A mother cannot seriously do much less than what I have been doing. I watch kiddie shows. My 2 year old has an iPod for when I need a break. My house is minimal to reduce chores. We don't eat fancy. My 4 month old rarely wears clothes. Laundry sits in piles for days and it doesn't bother me. Where am i doing too much? What corner should I cut next? Should I hide from my kids more often? Pinterest projects are way off my radar these days. Target is my idea of a vacation. 

Tonight, laying in bed, it finally hit me. God offers grace. He gives peace. He gives second chances. He gives hope. So I had to ask myself... If there is nothing "frivolous" left to cut out, maybe it's not God who is trying to get my attention. Maybe it's Satan? YIKES. If you knew the names I have called myself today, you would be surprised it took me so long to realize this. The brownies baked for 3.5 hrs. They were black and half of our home was in smoke when I woke up. What woke me up? Not the smoke. Not the timer. Not even a smoke detector. Nope... It was Reia. GRACE. God gives grace. You see, Reia could have slept another 2 hrs. That would be her normal sleep at that time of night. But  coincidentally she just began 4 month old sleep regression. Are you realizing the same thing I just realized? He gives and takes away! God only gives good gifts. Had there been a house fire, we wouldn't have been warned by our smoke detectors. What a grace from God. Now we can replace the batteries. 

I cannot do less, all of the frivolous corners have been cut... But I CAN accept more grace. I really messed up. I am a tired mom who is just trying to imitate my Heavenly Father and give my family good things. I fell short this time, but one thing is for sure... I will treasure these two great lessons I learned about grace. By remembering these things, I will remember God's grace and dismiss Satan's accusations. You cannot give what you do not have: That applies to both grace AND the accusations. 

“What father among you, if his son asks for a fish, will instead of a fish give him a serpent; or if he asks for an egg, will give him a scorpion? If you then, who are evil, know how to give good gifts to your children, how much more will the heavenly Father give the Holy Spirit to those who ask him!””

Luke 11:11-13 ESV

Simply Hard

There were a few days recently where I was just utterly drained. Depleted. Empty. You get the picture. It's not a place that I'm unfamiliar with... I am a parent of two kids, 2 years old and under. It happens even when we try to combat it. Why? Let's talk about that.

One of those days went like this: We were staying in a hotel. Jason wouldn't come back to us until we were ready to return home that evening. It wasn't a first. It's been done before. It's doable.

But we had been staying in a hotel. 

"Not a problem. I prepared for this:

Tablet, check. 

Snacks, check.

Diapers, check.

Head Phones, check.

Chargers, check.

Favorite Toys, check.

Emergency Clothing Changes, check.

Homeopathics, check.

Easy Out-of-hotel plans, check..."

You get the picture.

I have done this before. 

Motherhood is by no means something I believe can be mastered. The moment you think you've "got this" you wake up from an accidental nap to find your daughter's blankie in the toilet and the bathroom trash's contents across the floor... Not that that has ever happened *wink wink*.

So I was prepared to not be prepared... this wasn't the hunger games, I knew we would survive it.

So we took it easy. Before Jason left I packed up the big stuff in the hotel room, Jason carried those things to the car. We went to the lobby (without him), ate breakfast... I had Reia in my Tula baby carrier, Gemma sat in a large backed chair eating an apple while I ordered my coffee. 

I've got this! ---CRAP! I know better than to say that!

Not long after this I realized I needed to take our "party" to the car... Gemma was running from me every chance she got. Her apple had hit the floor a few times at this point. Reia was becoming upset and wanted to eat. Gemma, who has had seasonal allergies lately, begins coughing. And coughing. And coughing. No big deal. This is basic mom-gig stuff. I can secure Gemma in the car, lather oils on her and play her favorite song while I nurse. See? I had a plan. 

Apparently I should have conferenced with my kids about this plan first. By the time we reached the car, the wifi was poor, requiring data that we couldn't spare. I turned up the Christmas music on the radio and nursed Reia. Gemma, however, wasn't interested in oils. So I did what any mother would do... what was best for her! While nursing Reia I reached back with a roller ball of oil in my right hand and rolled it on whatever skin I could reach! No biggie. She is loud and upset, but once those oils kick in she'll calm down. But the oils didn't give her relief, nor did it calm her. This too has happened before. All of these things! 

You're beginning to get the idea, right? From the parking lot, to missing daddy, to navigating traffic with out-of-date GPS, to feeding a picky eater in a restaurant, etc... It's been done before. I already had these mom-merit-badges. So what was different? Was anything different? It's so obvious looking back. It was all of these little things TOGETHER. I was prepared for all of these things... but I wasn't prepared for them to be piggy backing each other. That had never happened before. I assumed some things would just go smoothly. 

Surely something will be low maintenance and I can relax while we're on this trip.

But the truth is and the reality of life is... sometimes it's completely up to my Maker to get me through! Nothing on earth can match His insurance policy.

FAITH.

These small, unfortunate struggles during our day kept piling on. The phrase "The straw that broke the camel's back" comes to mind. Sometimes it's just a mountain of straw on our backs! That day wasn't hard because anyone was lazy, difficult or particularly challenging... It wasn't hard because our plans were complicated or advanced. Sometimes it's just hard because there's no way around it! I received just enough self-care. Just enough to make it from sun up to sun down. You know what this reminds me of?

"I will rain down bread from heaven for you. The people are to go out each day and gather enough for that day. In this way I will test them and see whether they will follow my instructions." Exodus 16:4

I won't pretend to know the upper-story here. I don't know if God had a specific lesson in mind, if the devil was attacking, or if I just should have done things differently. That's behind us... so the question is, what value do I take from this? 

I had just enough. When Jason returned that evening, the girls were happy to see him. (As was I!) But my resources were tapped. I was running on empty after a job well done. God sent his manna, it was just enough for my day. Was I paying attention? Was I satisfied? Were we sustained? 

And what about all that straw? The straw slowly blew away with time. Jason, one of God's enormous gifts to me, was the breeze that God used to take it away. Thank you, Lord for a kindhearted husband and father who lightened that load and gave me rest. 

Even when life is simply hard, He always gives just enough... 

Thankful For

I am writing this while refereeing a "time-in." Gemma has lost her mind, ugly crying with snot running off her face like lava... I think to myself. I love this. I love them. Hey, I'm not being facetious. These snot buckets and poo butts are a daily blessing to me. Because as Gemma melts down and bawls her eyes out right now, I am her calm. I get to hold my peace and help her find north when she is ready to relax again. So while she melts down, I thought it fitting to journal what I am thankful for:

1. Gemma. 

She is a fire cracker. She is spirit and fire. She is tenderness and affection. She adores her bible and her sister and cares for them deeply. She loves big. Fits big. Plays big. Lives big. Gemma is a whole lot of kid in a little body, and I am so excited to watch who she becomes every day. 

2. Reia.

She is a ball of fun. Reia has a magnetic smile that could power half of Europe. She is hope and sweetness. I like to say she was created to cuddle. Her precious head full of hair is just further proof that God intended for her to be born at 41-weeks-of-perfection. 

3. Jason. 

I don't know how we ever get anything done before noon. We are both night time people, but you rise every week-day and work hard for us. You would work hard even if I didn't stay home with our girls -even if you were single. Why? Because you are a hard worker. You do what you're passionate about and it shows. I am thankful that you work hard for yourself AND for us.

4. Our families

We come from very different cultures, but one major thing we have in common: love. Our families know how to love big. No holding back. Unconditional. Here-let-me-help-you-with-that love! I am so thankful for this.

5. My faith

I am thankful for my faith. My faith in my Creator. It has been what helps me stay centered my entire life. But I am also thankful for my faith in humanity. In people. I am thankful that I don't draw lines in the sand. I am thankful that I respect differences. I am thankful that I assume there are misunderstandings. I am thankful that my faith in God helps me to extend genuine grace even when there WASN'T a misunderstanding (when people really have been sour.) Because God has done the same for me. I am thankful that I believe in YOU enough to tell my story, my truth, without fear. I am thankful that I have faith in WHO I was created to be and that I recognize that there is no ceiling on who I can become, and I believe the same is true for you. 

What are you thankful for this Thanksgiving?

Not Good Enough

Over the last few months I've been learning the ropes of raising two highly affectionate little girls. My oldest's name is Gemma. She was born on the anniversary of our wedding ceremony and in all of her extroverted goodness, has been "stealing the show" ever since. My youngest, Reia, is just now 3 months old. As a former foster family we aren't strangers to having a fourth body in our home... but those other babies weren't breast fed or co-sleeping, so this little one has had a few tricks up her sleeve that are new to us.

My girls are the most enormous gift I can imagine. I frequently just stand in awe and admiration of God's skill and generosity. I also frequently feel that I've screwed up. I miss the mark. I under appreciate them or behave in a way that will undoubtedly scar their memories of me...

I am not good enough. 

When noon rolls around... "Nap time!" but two diapers need changed (because oh yeah, I haven't managed to potty train my toddler yet) and one needs nursed, the other needs her chicken nuggets reheated... I situate the toddler with edible chicken, grab a cup of water and make my way to the couch to finally nurse the fussing 3 mo and I hear a sippy-cup hit the floor. I sit down on the couch and begin nursing anyway, after all, "natural consequences teach kids about real life..." But while I manage to open my youngest's mouth wide enough to get a proper latch, I am tense and shout "Hang on!" in frustration as my toddler repeatedly shouts my name and maneuvers herself into a position so painful that she is now in tears and cannot free herself. Now tears well up in my eyes, with my baby still nursing away... I spiral: "The natural consequences of NOT giving her back the sippy-cup that she threw will now create this nuclear energy spike that, if not addressed soon, will result in a 2 hr tantrum, followed by a late nap, leading to a late bed time. And we all know that kids who don't get enough sleep go on to have lower test scores and never move away from home..." (oh how funny these panic moments seem in hindsight.)

I am not GOOD enough. I am introverted. My oldest is extroverted. I have to guard my energy like food in a famine when she is awake. She will absorb every single last ounce of my good. She fills her bucket by socializing. The yin to my yang. If I don't guard my energies, I have nothing left.

WHEN I mess up, am I still enough? 

You see, I, like other human beings, come with flaws. I need daily alone time, an amount of time where I am disconnected from people. This need becomes messy when you throw children into the equation. Some days it just doesn't happen... someone misses their nap time, or someone gets sick... what do I give my kids when I haven't had an opportunity to fill ME up? What bucket do I draw from? And what do I have to offer myself?

• Sometimes I go with my serious bucket... "Maybe If i just become stoic I won't snap at them!?" 
• Sometimes I go with the panic bucket, "Are you kidding me? I'm allowed to be responsible for children while in this condition!? Everyone gets room time!" 
• But sometimes I go to the grace bucket... "Gemma, I know you really hoped to have XYZ, it's pretty disappointing to go without what we want... but if we work together it will be ok."

I am enough.

I'll never always be GOOD enough. But I am ENOUGH. Do you see the difference? I accept that what I have to offer may not always be "good" or "perfect" but because of Grace, it's always enough. And on the days when I have run out of "good" to give myself, I reach for the grace bucket... I deserve heaps of grace. He is enough. Because of Him, there is enough to go around; thank God my success doesn't depend on me. Daily he says to me "Tab, I know you really hoped to be more today, it's pretty disappointing when we go without what we want... but if we work together it will be ok."

Winds of Change

Who else has days where every little thing makes you feel poetic? With the fall weather settling in and the winds of change are literally blowing 40mph down the street right now, It just feels like such a cozy day! Turning off lights and TVs, I can smell my pot of coffee, I'm contemplating making potato soup, our cloth diaper laundry is drying, both of my kids are sleeping... this moment feels frozen and all I can hear is the wind busily blowing through the trees outside and my fingers as they hit the keys on the keyboard.

Life is beautiful, isn't it?

I married the love of my life just over 3 years ago. It's funny, I love this time of year. It was this time of year that he and I really began to connect and fall in love. So much life has come and gone since then. When we were early in our relationship I attended an emotional growth program called Pathways, during the 4 months that I was in this program I also underwent an abdominal surgery to treat my Endometriosis. Just a couple of weeks after my surgery, Jason proposed to me while I had strep throat. Our fairy tale together seems to be watermarked by real life in such a poetic way. We have both lost grand parents, changed jobs, become home owners... We have seen dark days individually and together... at times it seems that the only thing that comes easily for us is laughter... and I thank God often for that amazing staple in our life together. We're opposites in many ways, but those differences keep us honest and genuine.

On August 4th, 2013, I gave birth to a fire cracker. Gemma. She is so full of life. With my history of Endo, I told Jason early in our relationship that I didn't know what my fertility would look like. I robbed myself of quite a bit of day-dreaming-joy by assuming the worst. Endometriosis caused a lot of pain and stress for us and Jason was held captive by it as well. It was paralyzing. All was on hold when my pain episodes would begin. The surgery I mentioned earlier was an incredible relief for me physically, and for us together in our relationship. Now, two babies and 3 years of marriage later, I can see God has been such an incredible craftsman in my life.

I don't consider myself blessed BECAUSE of what he has done or what he has given me... no, I was blessed long before all of that. I am blessed because I have never been alone. The winds of change has blown rather steadily through my life. Missing my siblings is the closest I can relate to feeling "home sick"... because I have moved so many times that no one place truly stands out in my mind. I miss my family all the time. I miss being face to face, I miss their hugs, I miss watching movies together, I miss driving around with my sisters, I miss laughing so hard I pee myself. I miss playing spoons and speed, I miss sleeping in the same bedroom on Christmas Eve. I miss our pointless debates and arguments...YES. I miss those things. But I have never once missed God. I get cold chills as I type this out. He has never changed. He has never been far off. He has never called me names. He has never been too far away when I needed comfort. He has never missed a holiday. He never changes. He doesn't move our of state. He's with me. My fairy tale relationship with God is also watermarked with real life. I have been angry, I have be flaky, I have been childish. I have aimlessly sought to find self worth outside of His arms...but none of those things have ever threatened to take Him away from me. HE. IS. STEADFAST.

I frequently feel lost. Like everyone else has a script and I don't know my lines... but He helps me navigate life. Learning to appreciate life's watermarks can be hard sometimes, and the winds of change can be wild and scary... but i'm captivated by it.

Would you be swept away?

Off your feet?

No road map?

Gone with the breeze?

Would you be swept away?

Into a fairy tale?

Where gravity is gone

Where you cannot fail?

Would you risk it all?

Would you let this go?

Can you silence your fears?

Can you forget what you know?

Would you stake your life

Your comfort

Your joy

On the here and now?

Are you happy enough to keep what you've found?

Or are you like me?

You're somewhere in between...

Happy, but sad.

Observing the breeze...

Would you be swept away and be free?

Mexico

My spirit has felt off for a few days now with a heaviness. I feel like I am holding the mic and have been staring at my feet unsure of why I asked for this opportunity. I have talked to Jason a lot lately about my upbringing, moving around a lot and having my heart all over America… I told him it’s been something that my subconscious just doesn’t want to put down, but I couldn’t fathom why. I sometimes feel like a secret agent because I know three languages, one of which is Spanish. I have overheard WAY too many awkward things because people chose to speak freely, I mean… “who would understand!?” (I have blushed way too many times to count, just FYI… it happens a LOT.)

Earlier this week Mexico had a record breaking storm coming for it… (Picture the devastation of an EF5 tornado across a large portion of Mexico…) my head and heart were in agreement that this was exceptionally scary. I lived there for a year and a half before coming to Tulsa. I made many trips to central and southern Mexico as a child and I have MANY heart-family members down there (We named Gemma after a child I taught in bible class and I have nieces and nephews I haven’t been able to hug in over 4 years). I know you guys get what I’m saying, but my heart wants to paint a clear picture… that storm was going for my heart. In a turn of events that no one can easily explain, the storm quickly downgraded to a tropical storm once it made landfall. The “miraculous” nature of this was not predicted. By nature, hurricanes are strongest in warmer waters… which the coast of Mexico is full of. If that Cat 5 storm had made landfall at full strength, I am not exaggerating to say that 100s of thousands of impoverished people would have been in mortal danger.

So we all know that my heart paints pictures and wants to give you all the full effect… but among my great joy and relief for my loved ones to be safe, I am reminded again of how far my roots reach. I didn’t grow up “normal”… which I was naively bitter about while growing up. We spent holiday and vacation money on long drives to Mexico to serve and love on people I couldn’t understand or communicate with. A PRIVILEGE that I didn’t understand, nor did I truly see, until I lived in Mexico as an adult. At this point when I hear people talk about going to Mexico, I always envision rural or inner city… but frequently I’m met with descriptions of places like Acapulco or Cozumel.

I know I am not alone in this, which makes this sentiment even richer. I have many relationships with others who have experienced the heart of Mexico. But I want that family to grow. I may have grown up as a nomad moving and traveling quite a bit (a freaking cool experience in hindsight)… but my heart is beginning to realize what I missed. I feel like I’m dancing a new dance and I don’t know what to do with my hands. I saw this storm approaching and saw my newsfeed fill up with prayers and support for the country I love and my eyes filled with tears. Thank you for loving on my heart family. I sometimes don’t feel worthy to claim that beautiful country as a second home, but that’s my truth- my story. I have spent too much time trying to pretend like this longing has faded. So, this is for you, mis queridos… this is a portion of a poem I wrote in 2010.

“Desde que les conocí, han sido un parte de mi.
Si,les quiero, mis corazónes, y tengo un millón razones.
Y cada amanecer me acuerdo que no estan aqui a mi lado.
en mis sueños siempre ustedes serán”

The Great Unknown

Hey friends!

This may very well be the last blog post I write before our second child arrives. I'm due anyday now! 

My heart feels calm.

I am not talking about "prepared," though arguably we are quite prepared as we have had two children before. The calm that I feel is because I don't know what is on the horizon and I find that exciting. I have never met this little person before. I don't know what they look like or how they smell. I don't know if they will sleep all the time or keep us up at all hours, breaking glass with their screaming. I don't know if they will be perfectly healthy or have their struggles. 

I don't know. 

But that is beautiful to me. It makes me feel closer to God. Because HE does know.

I think back on the 26 years of life that I have lived. I have memories from when I was 3, awaiting my baby sister. I knew mom's belly had grown, but I had no idea that she would soon give birth to my competition 😉. I definitely didn't know that she would give birth to an incredible person that (with time) I grew to appreciate and now love, 23 years later. 

I had no idea that being the 4th of 5 children would mean that I rarely spent time alone and rarely wore brand new clothing. I had no idea that these things would just create a stronger bond between myself and my siblings as we are unafraid of sharing our hearts and lives with each other. The good, the bad, and the ugly. I had no idea that our crazy, busy household would fill me with so much compassion for those who are in need of family. 

I didn't know!

I had no idea that my freshman year of college would be one of the hardest things I've ever done and one of the loneliest years of my life. I didn't know that I didn't know who I was... And that was horrifying, but was exactly what I needed.

People. I didn't know.

I feel calm because I may not be in control of the future, but I am in control of how I look at it. I set the boundaries today that become paths tomorrow. My perception is on a leash, I can make the most of what comes... Even if what comes SUCKS. 

The great unknown is terrifying and exciting. It's wild and mysterious. It will be hard and kick my butt sometimes, it will stretch me and grow me and scare the hell out of me... But when I think back on where I have come from, I feel calm knowing it's always been out of my hands. 

That's the true secret to feeling peaceful: Being wise enough to know I cannot control ____. But being brave enough to live knowing that ____ can only control me if I let it. 

This week that blank is "becoming a mother of a second child"... Next week it may be something else. 

Get used to being in the unknown. That's where God really works His magic.

Have you listened to Oceans, by Hillsong United recently? This is the second-to-last post in my series of blogs inspired by this song. Take a listen, listen with your heart!

http://youtu.be/DGRz2BJQRXU