once upon a time a girl was lost. had unhealthy habits and a broken heart. along came a savior and she found her way.
girl meets boy (via amazing organization and Jesus). girl falls in love. 8 months later she wears a pretty white dress. they buy a house. they create a home.
girl and boy give life to a beautiful child…
all because of and in the name of love.
I see facebook status’ and twitter posts on a daily basis where another mom/wife is complaining about their life.
My kids this… My husband that… This sucks… That blows…
Laundry. Dishes. Bills. Baths. The flu. Unemployment. I’m tired. I’m hungry. Its snowing. Its blazing. Blah, blah, blah-blue-blah.
I call my mom and I listen to her silent tears. I wonder if she’s staring at the same picture I am. I whisper a prayer. God please heal her heart.
I hold my baby who fell down three times in one hour. He needs his mama. I kiss his boo boo. I wonder how many boo boos she kissed. There must have been millions.
I wash a load of baby puked clothes. I use tide because it smells like her laundry. She was always the finder of our lost socks.
I cook a meal for my family. I use her recipes. I call her when I don’t know which seasoning goes where.
I do and I think and I see and I say…
When I’m tempted to complain about my day-to-day life of being a wife and mother and daughter and a friend and a sister and lover… I see her face. I see her sacrifice.
And I know what she would give for one more moment to be tempted to complain about with him. She wouldn’t complain. She would just “be”. That’s what makes her great. That’s what makes her mom. That’s what makes her the one who gave us all wings.
“Motherhood is not for cowards” -Laura Hernandez
You are the very opposite of coward. You are the bravest woman I know.
true or false:
my husband drew and I had only known each other for 8 months by the time we got married.
true or false:
if it were up to me I’d have 10+ children
true or false:
I am way more of a “crunchy” mom than I allude to.
true or false:
I have a masters degree but I don’t care if it ever gets me a paid position.
true or false:
I believe a hot shower and a good cry can make you feel better instantaneously.
true or false:
my mom and my husband are my best friends.
true or false:
I’ve been bald before.
true or false:
I knew Elijah was going to be a boy before he was ever even conceived.
true or false:
my purity ring is melted into Drew’s wedding band.
true or false:
I would rather have a real pepsi than a piece of cake.
true or false:
I indulge in guilty pleasure TV shows.
true or false:
I still take naps almost daily
true or false:
I don’t believe healing solely relies on faith.
true or false:
I still call my dad “daddy”.
true or false:
Drew and I always go to bed at the same time.
true or false:
there aren’t any colors that I hate.
true or false:
I’m missing a bone in ny head. (read: a piece of my skull is missing)
true or false:
I don’t wash my hair more than twice a week.
true or false:
I believe you should have a touch of black and white in every room
true or false:
Drew and I entered our wedding reception to “You Shook Me All Night Long” by ACDC
all
of
these
are
true
(post inspired by Brittany at http://www.4littlemenandgirlytwins.blogspot.com)
Okay, so many of you asked me for my recipes on facebook…
I figured this way easier than putting it all in a comment.
I love love love to cook. One of our favorite dishes here at home is avocado and lime chicken, so one day I decided to put it in a soup form. I’ve seen one other recipe similar to this, but I believe in doctoring things up to fit your family’s taste buds.
Avocado and Lime Chicken Soup
3 cans of chicken broth
1 large tomato diced
1 large white onion chopped
1 large yellow squash chopped
1 large zucchini chopped
3 jalepenos chopped
1 can of sweet corn (add the juice)
1 small can of black beans (add the juice)
1 cup of lime juice
3 avocados peeled and squished
2 gloves of garlic chopped
1/2 cup fresh parsley
1/2 cup fresh oregano
Greek seasoning
1/2 cup of Greek salad dressing (optional)
3-4 boneless, skinless, chicken breast (cooked and shredded)
Sometimes I add noodles, but its not necessary.
And as much cheese as you want
I use a mixture of feta, mozzarella, and mild cheddar
Simmer for 4 hours 🙂
One of Eli’s latest obsessions is yogurt… Here’s a homemade recipe.
Vanilla Yogurt with Fruit
4 cups 2% low-fat milk
1/3 cup powdered milk
1/2 cup plain yogurt with active cultures
1 teaspoon vanilla extract
1 banana, peeled and chopped
4 strawberries chopped
1 peach chopped
handful of blueberries chopped
I pour the milk into a sauce pan, and heat over medium heat until it starts to boil a tiny bit- you definitely DO NOT want it to boil-boil. Turn the heat off and let it cool down.
Then pour cooled milk into a glass bowl or yogurt maker and stir in the yogurt, vanilla, and powder. Keep it in the glass bowl and put it in the crock pot. Cook for 4 hours . Refrigerate the yogurt overnight or another 8 hours to thicken further. Add fruit after the 8 hours.
There have been many times in my short 14 months of being a mom where my arms have not been strong enough to carry all the weight I have felt.
This photo was taken 4 days after my youngest brother passed away. I felt like I was the lucky one, I got to sneak away moments to nurse and cuddle and cry… and I got to do it with this beautiful little baby in my “arms”.
I have never felt as weighted down as I have now during this time of great mourning. Days have come and gone where I’ve had to muster strength from within to carry on. I still want my baby close, and he needs me to be close… even though my heart is broken, I’m still a mom who has dishes to rinse, laundry to wash, a baby to nurse, a life to live.
This is where babywearing has played a vital role, times where my arms have other things to do and places to be, buy I can still be close to Eli. I’m able to give him that sense of (physical AND emotional) security even when I don’t (emotionally) feel secure. My sling becomes my arms.
A few weeks ago my one year old started saying my brother’s name… the first time he said it he was in a sling. I wish I could have captured that in a picture. I so desperately want to hold my brothers memory close. Then a memory happened while I was holding my baby close. I had so many emotions, equal parts pain and joy.
My brother would have loved that. If I had captured it in a picture it would have looked something like this…
i felt a shift this weekend…
a few months back i asked you to pray for a very dear friend of ours. we call him “papa cliff”… i could go on and on and on and tell you all the reasons we love him. but i won’t. i will just tell you about this one… shift.
drew and i led worship this weekend for a conference. it was 3 day, 5 service conference. (read: a whole heck of a lot of songs).
i held it together pretty well, from my perspective at least. i went up there with full intentions of letting as much healing take place as possible. i worshipped my guts out.
i have a pretty clear view of everyone when i’m on the stage. i can see who and what and where and how and when. cliff and i lock eyes a lot. he looks and me and i look at him and i know he is rooting for me. i know he and i are “going there”. to the mountain top, to the throne, to the feet.
so its saturday night. there’s a lot of prayer going on.
we had just finished out 3rd session.
i’m tired. me feet hurt. my voice is raw. but i just wasn’t ready to leave.
enter… papa cliff. the only old(er) man i have ever let hug/touch me since the age of 8.
he bear hugged me. pushed my head into his chest.
my thoughts went something like this…
don’t squeeze him too tight, remember he’s fragile.
don’t get mascara on his shirt. stop crying.
get it together, stop crying. pray for him! stop thinking about yourself.
and… maybe he was thinking the same thing, i’m not sure…
but in that moment. we both took a deep sigh. i could feel him shaking. he could feel me weeping. i felt one of his tears. he felt a lot of mine.
i knew and he knew.
i was praying for his pain. and he was praying for mine.
and we both were ministering out of our own depth.
that’s love.
that’s God.
and a shift happened.
… hallelujah, we sing…
We received news today about someone so dear to our heart…
We call him Papa Cliff.
He played a vital role in us finding peace and hope living in Valparaiso.
He serves as a surrogate grandfather to me..
He has more faith than anyone I know.
When I was pregnant, he was the only man I let rub my belly.
He calls Eli “the” world changer.
He is a worshipping warrior.
He loves people like Jesus.
He believes in hope.
I’m asking you to please, please pray for him (and his family)…
His situation hurts my heart, but it fuels my hope.
(YOU) hold my every moment…
I believe, You’re my healer
I believe, You are all I need.
I believe, You’re my portion.
I believe, You’re more than enough for me…
Cause nothing is impossible for You…
Eli and I had a lot of fun blowing these today… Drew hates that I think these are cool, but I can’t help it 🙂
Happy Saturday.
so I’m falling far behind on my promise to blog more often…
I would apologize, but I’m really not sorry…
I blog for my own records. I want to be able to look back one day and be reminded of how crazy and beautiful life at this time was. I do that now with the blog I kept when I was single, in college… you know… pre marriage and motherhood.
I have folders full of emails/blogs/wall posts from my dating days with Drew.
These serve as an amazing reminder of how far we’ve come… how far we have to go.
So… life.
Last night I’m positive that Eli set his secret baby ninja powered alarm clock to go off at 1:00, 3:00, 5:00, and 7:00 in the morning. I. KID. YOU. NOT. he woke up at the exact same time, every 2 hours… all. night. long.
Sometimes when this happens I take time to pray over/sing over him… I hope that when he grows up he will have as many crazy/silly/lovely little songs in his head and heart as I do from my mom. We sing in our house… all the time.
Last night, I didn’t pray or sing over him. I worried. I fretted. I panicked… I wish I could tell you that I was overcome by some sort of peace or beauty that made me feel better, but that’s not how this story went. Every time I got back up with him, I fretted some more… about important things. about trivial things.
is the front door locked? did I reply to so and so’s email? is my brother okay in Afghanistan? when will I get to see my parents again? how will worship go this weekend? do i look retarded with my new nose ring? is he coughing? does he feel warm? is he just teething? is he sick? how will we reconcile with my brother and sister in law? when should we get pregnant again? how long will it take? did i remember to put the clothes in the dryer? eww, are they *still* in the washer? and the list goes on and on and on…
you can relate… no?
I woke up this morning feeling like someone beat me up in my sleep. Do you know what I mean? It was awful.
Tonight… I’m going to make a valiant effort… to not worry, fret, fear…
When I was a little girl my mom would always tuck us in. What can I say… she’s old school. She also never let us go to school with a HOT breakfast. She made a point to spend time with each of us, separately. We sang songs, read books, kissed and hugged. Whenever I would start to freak out about something… she would whisper… “perfect love casts out all fear. I love you, Jesus loves you…now tell the fear to leave.” and we would. together. “perfect love casts out all fear. FEAR: get out of here!!”
(*edit: I later heard a mock cheer at an “acquire the fire” event that said the same thing, but I personally think my mom’s version was better. ha)
I love you… Jesus loves you…
and this is love... 