Building Mountains

Receive and experience the amazing grace of the Master, Jesus Christ, deep, deep within yourselves.
Philippians 4:23, The Message

I’ve been working recently on writing less for the women all over the world and more for the women I know here in my city. Being a writer on a blog means I could have an audience anywhere, and sometimes that clouds my words. I try to make a taller soapbox than my short legs can handle.

As I’ve been thinking it over more, praying over you more, things have felt heavier. Before I know it, I’m attempting to carry a whole ton of burdens that no one asked me to take. I’m pretending to be a savior to a world that already has One. Again, too much for my short legs.

But, my dear, dear friends, I love you so. And I don’t want you to miss it.

Today, for a few hours, our household went on a mini, unwanted rollercoaster. (Or, just me. Yeah, it was probably just me.) I got angry over a small mishap in finances, and I fed my anger, creating a mountain. I hate that stupid mountain that I made. I went to the bathroom to collect myself, shed a tear to get it over with, and went back to work as mom/maid/iPhone-in-my-face-until-your-face-is-out-of-mine (speaking to you, little boys). I tried to pray my way out of my anger, realizing I was hoping my husband, my wonderful, incredible husband, would say something like, “Let me comfort you, beautiful, precious wife.” I waited. He didn’t. Anger increased. Bigger mountain.

I prayed again. Said something like, “You are not a fair God, and I don’t like that.” (Just trying to create a world-record-sized mountain over here, apparently.)

And then I closed my eyes, for only a couple of seconds.

Okay, I know. I’m being petty, and I’m losing my emotions over something that really doesn’t change anything about the quality of Your love for me.

The quality of His love for me….

I regretted my thinking right then for letting this slide:  My husband should be comforting me. My husband does love me, and I know it by more than his reaction to my over-reaction. But my ultimate comfort, my soft landing after a swift tumble, is in the arms of the Lord who has a deep love for me. Its quality does not diminish after a fire, after a storm, after a hiccup in time.

And I want you to know that. You, ladies, who I know personally.

The quality of His love for you does not change.

Create mountains. Get into a hissy fit over something silly like a late bill. Throw your hands up and get into an argument over something as dumb as the right route to take when driving somewhere. Your emotions will be crazy, you will sound crazy (like me). And for the love of all that is good, when you’re done building these mountain ranges, close your eyes. Acknowledge your faults. And remember the quality of His love largely tipping the scales in His favor over your seemingly outrageous mountains.

He has amazing grace for you. For me. Receive it. Experience it for yourself. Know that you’re gonna screw it up, but that He’s not diminishing His love because of it.

Being a Yoga Newbie: Questions

Hi, I’m Janelle, and I’m becoming a yogi.

Remember back when I was all like, “I am not a yogi“? Times change.

I know, it’s only been a month since I said that, but truth is, I’m addicted. And I love it. I’m not proficient in the practice of yoga, but doing it has changed things for the better, you guys.

Since I posted about the beginning of my journey with yoga, I’ve received a few questions about what my “practice” looks like. First, please remember that I’m still a beginner. Second, please make your exercise fun. It changes everything.

1. Do you go to a yoga class?

Nope. Honestly, I don’t have the extra time or money to go to a yoga class outside of my home. I know that classes aren’t that expensive, but me going to a yoga class would require a babysitter, which is an added expense. I would really love to go to a class someday in the future to get that experience. Someday will come!

2. If you don’t go to a class, how do you practice yoga?

YouTube! If you want to find something on your own, just type in “yoga for beginners” and I promise something will come up. My favorite channel and blog is Yoga by Candace. Her videos are easy to follow, mellow, and range from beginner to quite challenging. Before I started practicing, I did have some experience doing a few yoga poses, so I had a little bit of a foundation. And sometimes when I’m going through a video, a pose comes up that I’m not certain how to do. But Candace is really clear with her descriptions of movements, how a pose should feel, and what parts of the body should be doing what. Another outlet recommended to me is Holy Yoga. I haven’t looked into yet, but I hope to in the coming weeks.

3. How do you have time to practice yoga with three little kids?

I spent four years not prioritizing myself. I prioritized my kids, my husband, my house, and everything else. I made up excuses for not caring for myself, excuses that ranged from, “I love dessert, so who cares?” to “There is no way this body could ever move the way it used to”. I used to think exercising meant being awake before everyone else, working out at the same time everyday, running four miles, or sweating profusely, all of which isn’t really true. I had to find what worked for me. I couldn’t consistently get up early everyday because I love sleep. So, most days after we put the boys to bed, I roll out my yoga mat and do a 30-45 minute video. The idea of doing any exercise after 8 PM seemed incredibly weird. So much Netflix to watch. But I wanted to make the choice to love myself a heck of a lot more than the TV. Occasionally I get in a sequence during nap time, but that is more of a gamble as far as being interrupted. And if I’m really desperate, I’ll do a video in the morning while my youngest naps, but again, still a gamble. Evening workouts seem to work best, at least for this time of life.

This has been such a fun journey so far. Being a beginner means that I only get better, and I love that. Learning to master poses has been difficult, but the process is rich. Plus, I can keep up with my boys much better these days. That alone is worth it.

What is your yoga journey like? Have any resources you want to share?

Diary of a Wife: Greater Than Conflict

Before I got married, I didn’t handle conflict that well. I loved to keep everything on an even keel, and even pretend like it was when it wasn’t. I also didn’t handle confrontation very well. I had a tendency to cry a lot when I was called out on my faults, and bringing up issues with someone else was almost like pulling teeth. Uncomfortable and not gonna happen.

Evan and I used to have to sit in silence for long periods of time until I would really open up to him. I always felt scared. Scared that whatever was going to come out of my mouth would scare him away, that I wasn’t worth his time, that whatever I had to say really was not that important. But he would sit with me until I could muster my courage. I would stumble over my words, cry, and squirm. But he never budged. I didn’t scare him away.

I learned a lot about patience when we were going through those stages of our relationship; learning about each other, our struggles, our fears, and sitting it out, waiting on the other to speak. Taking on each other’s burdens. Seeing whatever conflict arose, and rising above it together.

Conflicts still come. We still get in little tiffs that seem silly. Exercising patience and letting the other speak, though, has gotten more difficult. Sometimes I get too mouthy and say something when I should be listening. Sometimes we talk around and around in circles rather than step back from whatever the issue is. Sometimes things just can’t be on an even keel.

“The struggle is real” is the best way to look at it, I think. The struggle in marriage is real, and I think we should let it be. As long as we’re struggling in the right direction. Conflict happens, and I think we should welcome the chance to learn from it. To struggle in marriage is to learn in marriage, and if this relationship has taught me anything, it’s that we’ve got to keep moving forward. Staying still, in the same place, only staring at each other in silence beckons more silence. He needs my voice just as I need his.

We don’t let the conflict define us. We don’t let the conflict hinder us. We take it in stride and let it make us stronger, making our bond with God real and fathomable. Greater than the conflict. Stronger because of it.

Tuesday Benediction

I haven’t read my Bible yet today. And I’m still trying to let what I studied yesterday resonate with me today, that is, if I can remember it. Sometimes I struggle to recollect sentences that I read only moments ago. My brain moves on, my thoughts move elsewhere, my spirit distresses over other things.

I ate lunch with my husband and two of my boys this afternoon at a fast food restaurant and watched a mother and her daughter at another table. Her daughter was playing rather than eating, even after the beckoning of, “C’mon honey, hurry up,” while the mom spent the entire time scrolling and typing on her phone. I know what it is to be there, and I certainly cannot judge her for having a phone out during lunch. Guilty party here. Lonely, mundane, repetitive. Some days feel like a time bomb until bedtime. But it did spur something in me. A gear moved.

Four years ago today, I gave birth to the happiest baby. I anxiously and naively waited for his arrival for nine months, and nearly every moment of his life I have spent waiting for the next milestone, the next moment, the next anything. This mindset trickled into every area of life: the next home project, the next date night, the next vacation, the next paycheck, the next house, the next car, the next day. I fixated my eyes on what is to come, a promising practice when done in the right context. In this situation, in most situations, it crumbled my foundation, it ruined me for my kids. I do not dwell on it, but I do acknowledge it. Truth here is this: I am guilty of pressing on too hard toward other things rather than pressing into Jesus.

What does that mean? How is it possible to press into Jesus? What does that look like?

Let’s go back to that mom and her daughter this afternoon. She was not guilty of anything. If anything, I wanted to pray with her or tell her how beautiful her little girl was. A reminder that this day is not lost because kids are kids and drive us up walls and into crazy places in our minds. I wanted to remind her that looking ahead, looking away, fixating on the “to come’s” and “tomorrows” will disintegrate our connection to the moment. The power of the now.

As a new mom, and for a few years after, I didn’t think much on what was before me. I went through the motions of taking care of my people, but mostly spent my time just getting by. Making it through the day. Wishing I could take a nap. Hoping that someone would give me a break. Trying to pray. Hoping I could read my Bible. Hoping that just being here was enough.

And some days, as a mom, that’s as good as I can get. Just being here, present. Going through the motions. It is not easy, it is not promised to be without frustrations, and I embrace the truth that I cannot thrive continuously.

Rather than wishing, hoping, or thinking of the “next”, I want to turn my face to Christ. It’s funny how when we focus on eternal glory–something our human minds cannot fully comprehend, a time that seems beyond time–it becomes easier to focus on the present. It becomes easier to let go of perfection.

In the past year, I have seemed to hit a few more valleys than mountaintops. I remember one night praying in bed, trying to give the monstrous weight of my anxiety over to God, and I got a picture in my mind of what it feels like to be with Him. To rest in Him. I was thinking of Psalm 91:4 that says, “He will cover you with his feathers, and under his wings you will find refuge; his faithfulness will be your shield and rampart.” To be covered in His power, curled against Him like a child longing for comfort. There is no fear, there is no pain. There is nothing that can harm me, threaten me, or hinder me.

He covers you. He is your refuge. He is a faithful God, whose promises do not fail. Your shield. Your rampart. He is your strength in your weakness.

Let Him do what He has promised to do for you. There is no “if” in His promises. If you love me, I will love you? No, no. He does love you. He loves you regardless, He loves you when you don’t love Him, He loves you when you love Him more than life. Continuously, steadily. He is not waiting for a moment to love you, a “next” to come along. He loves you now.

Don’t wait for the next moment. Don’t anticipate a time when things will be better. He isn’t waiting for a better time, there is no greater moment than this one. Let go of what you can’t control, embrace the imperfectness of all of it. Press into Him. Eyes to the heavens, sister.  And watch the world light up.

Birthdays & Growing Up

I’m not sure why time has to be such a jerk sometimes…but this week I get to celebrate my oldest son, who is turning four. I can’t believe it! Four years of being a mom, and easily the best four years of my life. Loving and learning with him has changed everything.

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We’re also entering into the realm of preschool and schedules and independence, all while my youngest is also weaning from nursing. In the past, I haven’t been one to mourn the changes in my boys. I love to watch them change and adapt. But this mixture of growth has left me feeling anxious. I never thought I would say I missed the dependence these sweet ones have on me, but today, I do.

There isn’t a perfectly laid out way to be a mom, and I think that’s what I love about it the most. What I do for my boys may not work for someone else, and that is just fine. There have been times that I feel bad for my four year old, who has had to endure the trial and error of my ways, because both he and I started on this journey as newbies. I’ve changed, and I continue to change. I get better, some areas I still struggle, other areas I just plain dislike (potty training, anyone). And although motherhood is something I continue to grow in and work on, it’s something that I get to do between me, God, and my boys. Not what that mom and her kids are doing. Me and God. He makes it holy work.

It’s not easy to remember, when things seem to hit the metaphorical fan. Friday night I locked myself in my bedroom so I could calm down, regroup, and remember how good God is. People don’t see the yelling that happens sometimes. People don’t see the tears. People don’t hear the pleas for help I’m bestowing to my God, because frankly, I’m embarrassed. But when things do hit the stinkin’ fan, know that I have been there. And some days, I am right there with you.

I love my boys. I love them fiercely and deeply and sometimes more than anything else. What makes a great mom, I think, is a woman who tries to love our Creator more than the people He created. That’s what I’m aiming for. He makes me whole and complete, and He collects my crap after it has flown off the fan blades. And it’s because of Him that I can love these boys so well. Not because I am great at it, but because He is great despite me.

Chin up, mommas. I am there with you. Watching our kids grow up is hard and sometimes upsetting. I miss the smell of sweet, newborn baby fuzz and all the little noises they make. But these humans just get better with time. Love them well. And love your Creator more. He makes it easier.

Top Photo by Josh Hoering
Content Photo by Emily Richardson

 

To Be A Woman

To you, there is no limit. Not because you have it all, or because you have nothing to lose. There is a boundless opportunity to seize greatness because the Greatest loves you.

Before stepping out in faith, step into the woman your Creator calls you to. He knows your name. And He calls you by it, demanding you to look up. Ignore wondering what is to the right or to the left. Keep your eyes on Him. See Him? He isn’t ignoring you.

You want to be a woman who fights. Not because there is a war to be won; you already know the battle is over, victory is in Him, freedom is where He is. You want to be a woman who fights the tug of the world to be more than you ought. What you do here holds no value if the King’s name isn’t written on it. What arrives at your feet is not unknown to Him, for all things pass through His hands. What you say here holds the heavy weight of the name of Jesus, so say it well, and say it brave. Eyes up. See Him? He isn’t ignoring you.

You want to be a woman who champions other women. If you want feminism, that’s it. If you want to fight for your fellow woman, love her. If you think men are the enemy, turn back and start to love yourself. Humanity can be cruel, but the Enemy, the one who wants to tug you back to this earth and keep your eyes down, he’s the one you should hate. Don’t hate the people who are consumed by him.

You want to be yourself. And you are enough. You are not too much. You don’t have too much. You don’t laugh too loudly. You are not “too” anything. The King made you, and child, He is impressed with you. He loves to hear your voice. Your laugh, so good. Your drive, so worthy. He wants you just as you are, not as a woman who only wants to muffle the courage, strength, and dignity she’s got.

Eyes up. He hasn’t taken His eyes off of you.

There is no limit. The Greatest of them all loves you. Greatness is ahead of you, because He says so. Don’t be fooled into thinking greatness means happiness. Be convinced greatness means holiness.

Eyes up. You can, and you will.

How To: Small Home, Big Family

We bought our house in October 2011, five months before our first son was born. I spent the first week painting all the trim and baseboards, painting almost every room, and making our little home just that: ours. “This house is perfect for three people and a dog!” we thought.

God probably laughed a little bit (or a lot) at that, and here we are, two extra babies later, still hanging out in our 1,000 sq. ft. of happiness. And crowdedness. And privacy-less-ness. Still, happiness.

Let me begin with this:  I really struggle with wanting more. My dream would be to renovate a farmhouse that has more than enough bedrooms, a toy room, and a master suite, AND a room where I can write. But it’s just a house that I dream of, and I want my dreams to have more substance than just things to have. I’m learning to put aside what I wish for and enjoy the little piece of heaven we have right here.

Step one: Knock down a wall.

If you can. If you can’t, knock down half of a wall. If you can’t do that, find a different house. Just kidding! But it is the first thing we did once we had the keys. We knocked down part of a wall, and eventually took down cabinets that separated our kitchen from the dining room. I’m all about that airy space, seeing everything, letting natural light in. By the way, I’m no interior decorator, architect, nothing. But I do advocate community, and I like how our big open spaces allow that to happen.

Step two: Paint and then repaint.

You know, I thought I had a good eye for design when I was 21, but the fact is, I didn’t. For example, we painted our dining room bright yellow. I wasn’t totally keen on it in the beginning, but I eventually grew to abhor it. It made everything else look yellow too. So, after removing paneling, re-drywalling, re-paneling (which is more like shiplap) and then repainting white, I feel like we’ve finally got it. I’m all for trying something, even if it ends up sucking. It’s more fun. Maybe more work? But hey, I got to spend even more time with my cutie of a husband because of it.

Step three: Get over it.

My list of “things to do” to improve our house is getting pretty long. But we also have three boys to take care of, a business to run, and a life to live. Having a beautiful house is not the prize. Sometimes I wish it was, because I love to decorate and then redecorate. But I have to choose to get over it at the end of the day, because the goal isn’t to have perfection. The goal is to live in it and love it where it’s at, serving Jesus through it. He’s the prize, after all.

Have a small house with a lot of people? How do you manage? Tell me about it!