I’m guessing it’s the pregnancy hormones that have me so “off” lately…but I’m just so damn sensitive these days.  It doesn’t take much to send me on a downward spiral of frustration, sadly, and Facebook can often be the culprit to my turn in mood. It seems like there are a million and one articles out there about how Facebook/Instagram/Twitter can make you feel as though you are really lacking experiences/things/people in your life, because all you see are the “good” moments (i.e. the glowing family pic but not the fight you all had in the car on the way to take it) and not the messy ones.  I admit, there are times where I read friend’s status updates about their kids and how unbelievably well-behaved they are all the time and I think it’s got to be a big lie, right?  Or that you’re a Mom and you really love being with your kids 24/7 and never, ever need a break to be around other adults and talk about adult things.  Is it just me?  I don’t know what the answer is to this question of contentment.  I love Facebook for so many reasons, one being keeping up with my dear friends in other parts of the country.  One of my favorite, favorite things is seeing pictures of all those moments that I can’t be there for – the first day of Kindy, Daddy/Daughter dances, the births of new babies and even date nights where my girlfriends and their hubbies enjoy a little time away – it’s awesome knowing you can still “be a part” of those memories even if you live in another state. But what I don’t love about myself, and this is the icky part – is how jealous I feel when I see vacation shots and girl’s getaways and things like that – the experiences that aren’t a priority for us these days because we’re having a baby and I’m pregnant – and (gasp!) can’t partake in a poolside/patio margarita.  Boo.  I’m not someone who can’t be happy for others, really, I’m not!  I just have a deep-rooted issue with contentment – that stems from an early childhood of moving a lot and never feeling settled.  Sometimes I can’t even trust in the friendships I’ve made here in the last 3 years.  I truly and honestly struggle with and deeply fear being left out of things.  I’ve learned how to (somewhat) manage it over the years – but when I’m feeling down and my (emotional life) immune system is suppressed, it always comes back – and maybe that’s because the Devil knows what’s in the details.  He knows where to cut me, and I never fail to bleed when he does.  I told Vann yesterday that I think some of this has to do with weaning off my meds (I like to say “happy pills” although I don’t think he appreciates that term) right around the time I got pregnant.  The lows just seem a little lower than they normally would be, and accepting that it’s more than just a bad day helps me cope a little better.   The truth is that I’m sure we all struggle a little bit with the illusion of social media.  Everyone always looks like they’re having a better time than you – am I right?  There’s always someone who: dresses better than you do has more money than you do lives in a prettier house than you do drives a nicer car than you do eats more organically than you do has better biceps than you do is skinnier than you are has better behaved kids than you do reads their bible more than you do has dinner on the table every night at 6 is a supermom and does it effortlessly never wants time away from her family keeps a cleaner house than you do has all matching appliances can eat what they want and not gain a pound has full-time help and never ever complains.  Have you thought any of these things this week?  Maybe if we focused on the good things in our lives and all the blessings we’ve been given we’ll be less concerned that this isn’t our final stop we can’t take any of it with us and as you get to your mid-30’s and just want to stop trying so damn hard you realize the people truly worth being with will want to “do life” with you as much as you want to “do life” with them.  And if you can just accept your imperfections and relish in the messiness of life you’ll get so much more out of it than you ever thought.  This Mother’s Day, I’m hoping to gift myself with a great big HEAPING dose of grace.  To take a deep breath and stop all the struggling.  Happy Mother’s Day, friends.

I know I’ve written about it before…but I think it’s fresh on my mind as this baby continues to grow in my belly.  What will happen when this one is born?  I didn’t have post-partum depression with my oldest.  I guess I managed a new baby well, it all seems a blur now.  Ella came into this world with great fanfare, which is no surprise considering her flair for the dramatic.  I was attempting to breast feed for the second time, the first having been a huge disaster, lasting all of one week before I threw my hands up and said THIS was not for me. I’m sure I already had anxiety going into her birth…and coupled with the dropping temps and the close quarters…maybe all of it was just one messy cocktail of despair just waiting to happen.  It’s weird putting it out there…admitting that what was supposed to be one of the most joyous events in my life filled me with a sense of disconnect I had never known before.  Vann had a huge meeting at work and was unable to stay with me during the days in the hospital.  His parents had driven up from Tennessee to stay with Charlie, who was sick at the time.  I guess I should have been grateful for the peace and quiet.  But I wasn’t.  I was lonely.  And sad to have my Mom and Dad so far away.  They all had tickets to come the week of Thanksgiving, and when she unexpectedly came early, we urged them to keep their plans, Charlie was in good hands and it was a good chance to bond with the baby. Bonding was the furthest thing from my mind.  Every time a nurse would bring her to me I would cringe.  I was terrified of nursing and terrified of being left alone with her.  This precious 5 pound, 8 ounce bundle of joy with her shock of black (!!) hair was a foreign thing to me, even though I had done this once before. The real problem came when we got home.  After the family visited and my Mom stayed to help.  After the meals from our church stopped, Vann went back to work, life resumed for all.  I was paralyzed. A lactation consultant came to the house and confirmed that the baby was gaining weight, which was amazing and filled me with a sense of pride I thought I might never know.  But she also confirmed what I thought was wrong with me – the baby had thrush and had passed it to me.  I was miserable.  When I went in to see my Doctor she examined me and disagreed.  No, she said, you’re fine.  But I wasn’t fine.  And I couldn’t get anyone to listen to me.  It was the beginning of January, Christmas decorations were put away and the negative temps had arrived.  At that point Charlie was going to stay with Vann’s parents again for a week or so and I was planning on staying at home with Ella to sleep and nest and do all of those good things you do when you have a newborn in your home. The night before Vann was to drive her to Indiana she got an ear infection and he had to take her to the Walgreens clinic for antibiotics.  I remember standing in the living room in our apartment, watching him get her dressed.  It was as if this giant hole opened up in front of me, and all I could see was blackness.  Truly, I thought I might never feel anything but hopelessness again.  With a shaky voice, I asked my husband if Ella and I could go with on the roadtrip.  I remember him looking at me with such tenderness, as if I might break into a million tiny pieces, a Mommy china doll.  Well of course he took us with him, I’m sure he feared leaving me alone.  And although I never experienced hallucinations or anything of that nature, my depression was certainly more than just the “baby blues”.  It was real, and I was suffering.  Shortly after this, I remember sitting with my mom’s group at church and breaking down.  I’ll never forget their sweetness, their love for me – their support and prayers.  Some recommended going to talk to someone.  Some recommended medication – “for such a time as this”.  But all confirmed the ugly truth of what was going on in my heart.  And I needed help, because I couldn’t conquer this alone. So I sought help and got on some medication and it made a difference.  And just about the time I really needed some vitamin D the weather got a little better each and every day – and I was able to trek all over our neighborhood with my girls in the double jogger.  Truly, the sun was a Godsend.  Last week our MOPS speaker was a woman who had gone through the same thing, and although her case was more serious than mine, it was still as if she hit an exposed nerve.  I loved what she had to say about how to support your fellow mamas who struggle through this disease. “Don’t let them be alone”, she said, “even if it disrupts your routine and schedule.  All she needs is someone to BE with, so she doesn’t have to face the darkness alone.”  I loved that because that’s just what my friends did for me.  Motherhood is hard enough.  I think sometimes in life we reach a bottom and we know that we can’t face the adversity alone.  Our husbands love us the best way that they know how, but there’s really nothing like the support and tenderness that a fellow warrior can bring us.  What would we do without our communities?  After all, God designed us to need that in our lives.  So friends, as we become a family of five in September, I definitely welcome your prayers.  The circumstances are very different this time around, but as I’ve struggled through depression for much of my adult life I know that I am not bulletproof.  It is ok.  I will be ok.

I’m wondering how long “survival” mode will last.  At 16 weeks, it seems that the worst of my morning sickness is gone, although I still have evenings where all I can eat are saltine crackers and sour jellybeans.  I don’t remember it lasting this long during either of my other pregnancies – but it could also be that I’m taking care of two children while trying to squeeze in any moment of relaxation I can.  This has been the biggest challenge for me so far.  Any moment I have to myself, anytime they are playing nicely and quietly, any chance I can grab to curl up in bed with my Snoogle and my cat – well, that’s just it, I’m sailing off to dreamland.  Here’s what I’m not doing: laundry, housecleaning, cooking, de-cluttering, writing…I’ve had words running through my mind for two months but just can’t muster up the energy to sit down at the computer and put it on the “page”.  Want to know what else?  I haven’t been to church since Christmas – maybe once or twice.  So it would seem fitting that my soul feels like a little dried-up old prune.  I’m in desperate need of some spiritual food.  My patience has been very thin.  My fuse has been easily well-lit.  It is amazing how the act of “going it alone” can leave you feeling so very…directionless.  We’ve had some disappointments recently, things we’ve prayed for that God has simply not answered.  Or maybe he’s just saying, “Wait.”  In my heart I know He has the best for us – we’ve been tithing faithfully since last summer and He has always provided.  I was hoping we’d have that financial freedom back by now – the days in the city where we had zero debt and lots of money to spare – but home ownership and spending habits have us stuck in a rut.  I know no “quick fix” will get us out of it – and so I’ve had to make some hard decisions about my own personal spending habits – which means getting rid of temptation. Being an adult really sucks sometimes, doesn’t it??  I know these are the years, the long nights with no sleep and little children, tight finances and added stress from things that need to be replaced in our now 12 year old house…these are the years that we’ll look back on and laugh…and yet, back in the day when I was single and living in the city I somehow made $50 stretch for a week and survived.  Because I had to.  I’ve been praying for a heart change about my love for “stuff”.  I know this longing NEVER ends.  NOTHING will ever satisfy it.  I want so badly to be free of it – to be able to be grateful for what I do have – to take a break from being a consumer and needing the latest and greatest.  This is so much harder than it looks.  God tells us in Malachi 3: 10 Bring all the tithes into the storehouse so there will be enough food in my Temple. If you do,” says the Lord of Heaven’s Armies, “I will open the windows of heaven for you. I will pour out a blessing so great you won’t have enough room to take it in! Try it! Put me to the test! and I believe it!  Some months I feel like I can see the tangible result, like an extra bit here and there from selling something in our house we don’t use anymore – or a nice tax return this time of year.  But some months, it’s enough to make everything work (when my husband makes a great living) and I wonder how it’s gone so quickly and where did it all go??  And so I know this is a time of sharpening for me, and in the end, I will see the fruits of what God is trying to teach me.  It seems fitting that this realization in my heart coincides with the greatest day we as Christians can celebrate, Easter.  Today, the day between Good Friday and Resurrection Sunday, is the “dark night of the soul”.  Today, when it seems utterly hopeless and you feel like you may not survive another trial or another piece of bad news, the morning will come, and with it, Christ’s resurrection from the dead and the hope of all we believe and trust in.  I downloaded the “Jesus Calling” app on my phone – I thought it would be a great way for me to get back into the Word after my long hiatus.  Today’s devotion said this: “…Signs of My Presence brighten even the dullest day when you have eyes that really see.  Search for Me as for hidden treasure.  I will be found by you.” I love that!  Hidden treasure.  Jeremiah 29:13-14 says: 13 You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. 14 I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity.[a] I will gather you from all the nations and places where I have banished you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back to the place from which I carried you into exile.” On this Holiest of Holy weekends, may we remember that He’s already paid the price for our sins.  And the truth is, even if God isn’t answering your prayers in the way YOU think He should be, He’s there, in the quiet, in the doubt and temptation, even in the unfolded laundry. So I’ll keep praying for those things… God has said “Wait” or “Be Patient”…and so I will try.  Happy Easter, all.

I’m kicking off my 35 year jubilee on my birthday, March 11th.  I think I’ve realized why I make such a big deal about my birthday… Since the dawn of Facebook, there’s nothing quite like waking up to all the good wishes and love coming at you from all over the country.  As a friend said, “nothing like Facebook to make you feel like the Prom King or Queen for the day.”  And it’s true.  It’s YOUR day.  The day you came into this world and why not celebrate it?? In my case, my birthday has almost always fallen on the week of Spring Break.  This was hard, especially in college.  When my friends were going to Cancun or Padres I was driving…home.  To hang with my parents.  Nothing against my parents – my Mom always makes me her amazing banana pudding – but it’s just different than ringing in a new year on the beach with your friends. Well of course this carried over into my 20’s – lucky for me my crowd in Chicago always did birthdays up big (we’re talking renting out a room in a bar, special cocktails on the house, dancing till dawn) – and for my 25th my roomie Court orchestrated this huge surprise where my college friends Marla and Emily jumped out of my hall closet and spent the weekend partying it up with us.  What can I say??  I’ve been spoiled. And so, naturally, when Vann and I met I had to school him on Mander-palooza and how in my world birthdays actually last a month and it’s very important to stretch the celebrating out.  For my 30th Vann planned this fantastic party for me that was followed with hours of late-night karaoke (one of my very favorite pastimes and something I definitely don’t do enough) and always took me out to dinner at some of the most amazing restaurants in town.  Don’t get me wrong – a birthday doesn’t have to be fancy to be special – believe me, sharing birthday cake with my girls is now one of the best things about turning a year older.  I guess sometimes I just get my feelings hurt when my birthday rolls around because I’m afraid everyone is going to forget.  Just like all those years in school when it would just sort of…pass by.  Do I love it when friends suggest a lunch to celebrate?  Of course.  Yes, yes I do.  There’s something about having something organized for you instead of always doing the organizing for yourself.  And so this year, the girls are going to their respective grandparents and Vann is taking me to the Four Seasons for a night (where we got engaged and spent the night after our wedding) where we will have a glorious kid-free time and hopefully my morning sickness will stay away.  There might even be room service involved (also one of my favorite pastimes and something I don’t get to do enough).  After that we have a few days before one girlie comes home so we’ll spend Spring Break having dinners and quality time with our closest friends.  This is all good stuff.  I admit, sometimes I long for a late night of karaoke and some early morning mimosas and brunch…but I have a feeling those days will come around again.  For now, after how terribly sick I’ve been the first trimester of this pregnancy, I’m looking forward to a few days of no kids and nowhere to be.  That, truly, is the ultimate luxury, no?? And speaking of this pregnancy, I’d be remiss if I didn’t share one of the greatest ah-ha moments I’ve had as I’ve been one with my bed for the past 6 weeks.  For 3 years we’ve been unable to come to a decision about Baby #3.  So much uncertainty, so much limbo…and I have to tell you now…I feel such a great freedom in my heart.  Now I see what our family is, what it will be, and Glory, Hallelujah, we will move on from the baby-making stage of our marriage into the great, beautiful world as a family of 5.  No more questions, no more back and forth.  Just life with my hubby and my 3 babes.  I know the first bit of life adjusting to a newborn in the house will be hard.  Scheduling, drop-off, pick-up, Charlie starting Kindy, all these things TERRIFY me.  Breastfeeding, no sleep, the hubby stretched even more than he already is…it’s going to be a biotch at times and I know that.  But as we move on, as the baby starts sleeping through the night, and nursing either takes or it doesn’t, and I get my body back, slowly but surely – Lord this is our life and what a life it will be!!  It feels glorious to move forward.  And as I hopefully reclaim my hair color (because Oh you do not want to see my roots right now) and my appetite in this next week or so, I can’t think of a better gift to be given on my 35 year Jubilee. My brother and sis-in-law both have their 40 year Jubilee this year.  Our motto for 2013: Treat Yo Self. 

And so I shall.  Merry Jubilee, all!!

I am one of those girls, I admit it. I leave my tree up at least a week or so after Christmas, sometimes more.  I know a lot of people want the decorations down and the clutter gone – and I do hate to see an empty tree skirt, presents long unwrapped and paper and tissue recycled – BUT there is something so comforting about those tree lights.  The way they warm up a home, give it life, fill your children’s eyes with wonder.  Something so simple, bringing about so much joy. Ah, joy.  Seemingly hard to come by these days.  Even though we spent the greater part of 2012 celebrating weddings, the shadow of death rolled in at the end of the year.  Vann and I said goodbye to my Grandad, his grandmother and my great uncle Gus, those close to me lost their beloved family members and 26 lives were taken in the Sandy Hook Elementary School shootings.  A dark and dreadful time, to be sure. I wish I had the answers.  I wish I knew what to say when someone asks where God is in all of this.  Many, many times I feel like a poor witness for Christ.  I am an ordinary girl chock full of flaws and insecurities – and yet, somewhere along the way this year I felt the urge to write about my relationship with my God more and more.  I have a dream to be recognized for my writing – that is at the most selfish part of me – and in my opinion not much happened on that front this year.  But that’s ok, I think.  Because if I’ve encouraged one person towards the Kingdom in 2012, well then it would be worth it, wouldn’t it? I’ve been listening to hymns a lot these days, especially Jadon Lavik’s version of Come, Thou Fount.  Come, Thou Fount of every blessing
Tune my heart to sing Thy grace
Streams of mercy, never ceasing
Call for songs of loudest praise
Teach me some melodious sonnet
Sung by flaming tongues above
Praise the mount, I’m fixed upon it
Mount of Thy unchanging love
Here I raise my Ebenezer
Here there by Thy great help I’ve come
And I hope, by Thy good pleasure
Safely to arrive at home
Jesus sought me when a stranger
Wandering from the fold of God
He, to rescue me from danger
Interposed His precious blood
O to grace how great a debtor
Daily I’m constrained to be
Let that grace now, like a fetter
Bind my wandering heart to Thee
Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it
Prone to leave the God I love
Here’s my heart, O take and seal it
Seal it for Thy courts above Maybe it’s the heaviness of the last few months, maybe it’s the pain I know my friends are feeling as they face a new day of loss, maybe it’s the colder days…whatever it is, I know we can all use a little light, a little peace.  The truth is, I don’t have the answers.  I don’t know why God allows death to happen. I know He is a good God, a loving God, a faithful God.  We may never know why these things happen this side of eternity.  Prone to wander, Lord, I feel it. Oh, do I wander.  And oh, Lord, I feel it. Friends, there’s hope: the good news of the Gospel is that He has sealed my heart, and He can seal yours, too.  No matter what happens on Earth – this, our temporary home – we are promised an eternity in a place where shootings, car wrecks and old age simply do not exist.  Isn’t that good news??  Streams of mercy, never ceasing… Mount of thy unchanging love… May the peace and promises of Christ fill your 2013 with hope, friends – may you know the immense and all-consuming love that He so freely wants to give.  Happy New Year. With much love and affection,

It’s probably no accident that this week’s “Stuck” study at church was “Sad”.  Now – this is something I feel like I know very well. Even as a child I was always very sensitive.  I felt things so deeply, hurt for people.  I was always worried about what people were thinking, feeling about me and desperately afraid of rejection.  My heart has been transparent for as long as I can remember, nerves super close to the surface – as if I’m missing that top layer of skin. This benefits me in a lot of ways, one being an empathy for others that I hope I never lose.  A depth of feeling that I hope makes me a trustworthy confidante.  But it also makes things difficult, as I get my feelings hurt very easily and am constantly working through dashed expectations.  Vann can tell you, it’s sometimes daily that he’s reminding me that yes, I am a good wife, a good mother, a good friend.  Yes, I am good enough, and doggone it, people like me. I’ve struggled with depression most of my adult life, seen therapists, abused alcohol and thought over the benefits of suicide.  I have lived in despair.  I recently weaned off of Wellbutrin, the anti-depressant I’d been taking since Ella was born.  “So that explains my recent very short fuse”, I think to myself.  It was time, but I gotta say, I’m a little nervous about losing my security blanket. In our study today, Jennie Allen directed us to Romans 8:22 – 22 For we know that all creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. 23 And we believers also groan, even though we have the Holy Spirit within us as a foretaste of future glory, for we long for our bodies to be released from sin and suffering. We, too, wait with eager hope for the day when God will give us our full rights as his adopted children,[a] including the new bodies he has promised us. 24 We were given this hope when we were saved. (If we already have something, we don’t need to hope[b] for it. 25 But if we look forward to something we don’t yet have, we must wait patiently and confidently.) I am well aware of the dull ache I feel in my heart – it’s been a companion of mine for as long as I can remember.  I know that I have a tendency towards depression, could be that it runs in my family.  Whatever it is, it’s been there – but I know it’s also a hole that only God can fill. Medication can help, therapy can give me someone safe and subjective to talk to, and community can give me the fold I need to belong to. But when I’m feeling sad because I don’t have that “go-to” friend in a “bestie” culture… When friends get together and post a picture on Facebook and I wasn’t invited… When I worry about what people really think of me… When I wish I could eat what I want and not suffer the consequence of a tighter pair of jeans… When I just feel sad for really no reason at all… John 16:33 says, “I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” God doesn’t promise me that I’ll be happy, or healthy, or content.  In fact, He says we’ll be just the opposite.  Our hope lies in the fact that Jesus died for our sins and in eternity, we will have everlasting life and peace. Until then, we have to remember that this Earthly life is temporary.  Our greatest joys lie ahead. No more holes in our hearts. No more sadness. No more tragedy. No judgment or condemnation – complete peace and acceptance of YOUR body that HE made. And… Streets lined with glitter. All the pie you can eat. And no need for Spanx. Can I get an Amen?!!

My Grandad passed away Friday the 26th of October.  In his sleep, in his den, in the hospital bed that had taken the place of his beloved recliner.  I was working a clothing booth at a vendor show and had missed my Dad’s call.  I noticed that Vann was calling me and not leaving messages so I quickly took the call – he was with the girls, trying to find me so he could tell me the news.  Immediately, tears sprang to my eyes and I felt my stomach fall out from underneath me.  Because I was working, I had to keep it together until the designer could come and relieve me.  When I got outside, the 50 degree temp hit me smack in the face.  It was cold and windy, a beautiful sunny day – what would ordinarily bring me enormous pleasure was bittersweet.  When I got to the car, I struggled for my keys and got into the front seat and turned on the heat.  And wept.  For my Grandad, who I had lost.  For my Mimi, who I knew he was finally walking with in heaven – 25 years after she lost her battle with ovarian cancer.  For my Mom, who now faces life without her parents. For my brothers, who I knew would be mourning just as much, if not more, than I. I got home to my family and a husband I am still undeserving of.  He held me while I cried.  It felt really weird, knowing I wouldn’t see my Grandad at Christmas.  Wouldn’t get to chat with him the next time we brought the girls by.  The finality of life.  Just shy of 90 years on this Earth.  Oh, the stories he could tell. The funeral was the following Tuesday.  On a little hill in New Summerfield, Texas, my Grandad was buried next to my Mimi, side-by-side, for all eternity.  My Mom asked my brothers and I to read eulogies – so I read the post I wrote here only a couple weeks before.  My brothers wrote and read their own versions, and as anyone who knows me knows, if I’m around you’ll never cry alone.  (It’s like my tears are hard-wired to my soul.  I am hopeless that way.)  So when they went first and the tears began to fall, well, mine flowed as well.  My sweet brothers, saying goodbye to a man whom they had admired and were deeply saddened to let go. And on that hill, four grandchildren (including my cousin Michal who sat beside me) grew up just a little bit more, as the stability and history of our Grandad was all we would have to remember him by.  He isn’t with us anymore, and soon, his body will turn to dust and the pocket watch he was buried with will rust over. But his soul, the place where the Holy Spirit inhabits, will live on.  No more pain, no more suffering, nothing more than the great, amazing face of Jesus as his spirit was called Home. And that, my friends, is what’s on my heart today, as we face the morning after the election.  I try really hard not to “get political” because I have a sensitive heart, and inevitably, get my feelings hurt.  I self-protect by keeping my mouth shut.  I’m going to try (read: try) to not focus on the disappointment I feel (because I do feel it) and instead call out what I believe to be the lesson here.  Lord knows I have a tendency to go off the deep end when it comes to worry.  Fortunately, I am married to a man who is the most stable, most level-headed, most faithful man – my total opposite and everything I desperately need.  And when he reminded me of the sovereignty of our God last night I felt this…peace…come over me.  Like none of it matters.  Truly. I heard God say, “I’ve got this.” “I’ve got you.” And as long as we can remember this, we are on the right track.  “My” guy may not have been elected last night, but really, it doesn’t matter who is President, Because Jesus is King. I don’t want to be afraid anymore.  To share my faith, to say who my God is, to live my life in a way that points towards the heavenly Kingdom. Romans 8:28 says, 28 And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who[a] have been called according to his purpose. According to His purpose. He’s got this.

Last month I wrote about the study we are working through at church, in our women’s ministry.  It’s called “Stuck”.  Written by Jennie Allen, it’s about “the places we get stuck and the God that sets us free.” This week’s topic (after missing the last two sessions because of sick me and sick kids) is appropriately, about a topic I know all too well – discontent.  I wish I could say discontent and I weren’t old friends, that at some point I’d grown tired of her bullying and general shiesty behavior and let her go, but alas – she remains a bitter pill that I swallow on a daily basis.  It really would be nice if at almost 35 years old (hold it – I still have 6 months people) I’d learned a thing or two about combating her tired old talking points. The truth is, I haven’t.  Not a day goes by that I don’t feel annoyed or frustrated at something I don’t have/feel like I should/feel like I deserve/etc.  So when part of the study asks us to make a list of all the things it would take for you to never struggle with these feelings again – “name everything you could ever want or change about yourself or your life.” Oh, well since you asked – just a couple things: – I would have a successful theatre/commercial/voice-over career – even as a Mom I would juggle all these things effortlessly and with total mastery. – I would live in a brand new, no update needed, eat off the floor it’s so clean gourmet kitchen home.  – My brand new, no update needed home would be fully and completely furnished just like an HGTV Dream Home straight out of Park City or better yet, Vermont.  Luxe, lodgey, rustic – um, did I say luxe?? – I would be my pre-Chicago move weight (circa 2000) – the weight that my 22 year old self lived at, 10 pounds lighter than I am now.  Before two babies (whom I love) left me with stretch marks and the promise of a Mommy Makeover for my 40th birthday present. – I would feel comfortable having my picture taken in a bikini.  And I would rock that bikini, with abs you could bounce a penny off of and no arm flappage (or flappage of any kind, for that matter). – I would have a money tree in the backyard.  Its sole purpose would be to provide green for my growing Louboutin collection (in my mind, only in my mind – I do not in fact own a pair of the red-soled beauties).  I would have all the shoes I could ever want or need in my whole lifetime. – I would be the best cook, the best housekeeper, the best Mother, the best wife, the best friend, the most accomplished writer, be penning my stunning autobiography, and have 20,000,000 Twitter followers. – And finally, I would never have to color my hair, wax my eyebrows, maintain my figure, get my nails done – because I would be perfect, at all times, forever and ever. Just a couple things, right? Something tells me, and I know this to be true, that even if I had all of these things, I would still be letting my friend Discontent write my story. Because I know, at 10 pounds lighter, I was just as manipulated by whatever I felt was lacking in my life.  I know, as a young girl in my 20’s, that although I was auditioning and working my fingers to the bone to make my rent so I could do shows at night – when I thought I was “living the dream”, all I could think about was being a mother and having babies. I know, that it doesn’t matter how much money you have, how many pairs of shoes you buy, how many rooms you have furnished in your home and how many “Vogue” magazines you flip through – you will always and forever be seeking to fill the void in your heart that God created…for Him. How can so many small objects fill a space that is so unbelievably infinite?  A space that is truly, God-sized? Hebrews 13:5 says: Keep your lives free from the love of money and be content with what you have, because God has said, “Never will I leave you;
never will I forsake you.” …Because God has said, “Never will I leave you; never will I forsake you.” Never.  All of the other things, fall away.  Houses get older, newness wears off, skin ages, trends come and go.  But the constant, the all-consuming, all-knowing, gigantic love of Christ will never, ever fail you.  He is the only thing that can fill us, because He is who we were created by and for.  And it could be, that if we learn how to be content in the here and now, that His plan for our lives and for that space inside us…just might be…better than we ever imagined it could be.