New Digs

I have moved the blog to Wordpress. It's easier to manage over there and it syncs better with other blogs I follow as well as future plans for the business blog. :)

So come on over! Same posts, same me, new location.

A couple weeks ago Raychel fell out of her bed. I have no idea how, but I heard a loud thud followed by a delayed cry. Any mom knows this is one of THE worst sounds to hear. I rushed in and found her, confused and face down on the ground. She immediately reached her chubby little arms out in complete expectation that I would pick her up. I did, of course, and I could not do it fast enough. I wrapped my precious little girl into me and reassured her that she was okay and Momma was here while she sobbed hot, scared tears into my chest.

And for the last few days she's been sick. Very sick. She has been a mess of phlegm and coughs and whiney confusion. She even reached my hippie fever ceiling and got some Tylenol. When I walk into her room in the morning or after a nap instead of her usual sudden rising, she lays there with outstretched arms and a pouty lip for me to pick her up. I hate seeing her so miserable. But you know what I love? I love cuddling with her. I love soothing her and telling her she is doing so well. I love the opportunity to fill this little girl up with reassurances and affection. We have spent a lot of time just sitting together and it has been good.

I am so honored to be her Mommy. {She calls me that sometimes now. Or "Momma." Or just, "Mom."} She knows she can depend on me. When she hurts herself she knows I'll be there and when her body is turning against her she knows where to look for help. So.honored. I always knew I wanted to do this... But how could I have known how rewarding it would be to have a 19 month old rub snot on you for 3 days? ♥

Pitching my Tent

 I am still wrestling. Please, someone, if you have some cure for this in a bottle give me a prescription!

I know that God has forgiven me of all my sin. And that because of this I have no right to hold anything against anyone. Not my friends. Not my family. Not the jerk guy who cut me off. And certainly not my own husband. I know that my life is bought and doesn't belong to me. I get it.

But not really.

Ramble | Confession | Hope

For here we have no lasting city, but we seek the city that is to come.Through him then let us continually offer up a sacrifice of praise to God, that is, the fruit of lips that acknowledge his name. (from Hebrews 13) 

 I'm wrestling with this. A lot.

Because when I don't feel God I don't know how to love Him. How screwed up is that?

I have had a serious struggle with my attitude lately (cursed irony). This pregnancy has brought a whole host of irritable, overly sensitive emotions which are directed at the bullseye on my husband about 99% of the time. {The remaining 1% aimed at commercials, RJ, programs and occasionally other people} It is not only super frustrating, it's sinful. My heart toward Gabe has been so cold because of my perspective.

This is not to say that I am never warranted by normal standards to be hurt, but that when those warrants come I am already gunning for the guy. Heels dug, fists clenched, gloves off.

I confess these things because recently as my stellar attitude came to a head, I learned that I have been letting my emotions dictate my actions. When I am upset I don't smile. I don't play. I don't get enjoyment out of watching RJ do something new (well, I do get a little). I don't grab his hand or touch his back when I walk by. I don't do those things because in my mind that is called pretending and I am too old for make believe. I come to believe that Gabe no longer cares about me. When I feel like our marriage sucks I act like our marriage sucks.

But does our marriage really suck? I have insecurities (some of which have nothing to do with Gabe's actions, but are totally placed on him), but when I step back and look at our marriage what do I see? I see an incredible man who has loved me through my least lovable phases. I see persistence in his forgiveness and grace. I see provision and affection. I see changes in myself that wouldn't be possible without his influence. I see a good marriage.

This revelation in my marriage is showing me a serious issue in my relationship with God as well. When I don't feel close to God I drown in the same insecurities. I battle with the idea that He is done with me. Usually I don't fight very hard.

But what do I see when I look at my life with God? I see a God who has loved me through my least lovable phases. I see persistence in his forgiveness and grace. I see provision and deep affection. I see changes in myself that are absolutely, completely impossible without Him. I see a good marriage. I see Hope.

So I'm wrestling. As I try to offer a sacrifice of praise whose motive is to please HIM and not get back the feelings I miss. As I acknowledge the name of the God who has loved me, loved my child, loved my husband in intimate, memorable ways. I'm wrestling with what it looks like day-to-day to love and serve and cherish and adore the God I can't make myself feel close to. And I pray - and trust with reason, not with passion - that this God will provide me a rest from my struggle and fulfill the longing I have for intimacy with Him. When it's right. When I'm able to receive it.