Tomorrow is the first day of school for my little Ellie. If she overheard me calling her little, she would pipe right up and say, "Mooommmm...I'm not little. I'm a big kid, remember?" I have so many mixed emotions right now. Let me just preface all of this by saying that while she will be a "young five" going into Kindergarten, she is developmentally very ready for this. We are fortunate to have a lovely school very close to us, which appears to have so many enrichment opportunities with a heavy focus on early literacy. We've met her teacher, who is both kind and experienced and gives us the impression that she truly loves her job. We're very lucky considering all of the variables that go into starting school. We've also had many people ask why we're not homeschooling, or seem surprised when they learn that she'll be going to public school. And I'll just say that like homeschooling, sending your kids to public school is a choice with pros and cons, and in this season of our life this is our choice. It doesn't mean that we think homeschool isn't a good choice, but it's just not the right one for us right now. I am thankful to live in a city with so many options and so many diverse experiences among my friends. :)
But today? I feel a little heartbroken. My daughter, with whom I've spent pretty much every day of the last five years, will no longer spend her days at home with me. I will not be her caregiver between the hours of 8:30 and 3:30. Someone else will see her achieve great things and watch as she makes mistakes. Other kids will spend their days with her rather than her two younger sisters. Other adults will encourage, love, and discipline her during that time. I won't know every moment of every day with her. It is so hard to let go when I've spent her entire life trying to hold on. To love her well every day through the projectile vomiting, temper tantrums, boo boos, and the steep learning curve that is potty training. To give so much of myself to her when I'd rather sit in silence. To teach her all of the little things she might need to know before starting school. Knowing when to step in and when to step back and let her learn on her own. The last five years have forced me to throw myself out there when I'd rather run away and to know when to hold my tongue and watch her fall. So much of who I am is wrapped up in her. This child has changed me in some of the most dramatic ways. No wonder this is so hard.
I am sad and worried and excited and thrilled all at once. I'm sad for myself, because I will miss her. I'm worried about how she'll handle her mistakes, or how she'll get along with her classmates, or if she'll eat her lunch well, or if she'll be tired by 2:00. I'm excited for her because she'll get so many more opportunities in school that I could never give her. I'm thrilled because the teacher in me is jumping for joy over her classroom and the curriculum and her teacher and the staff and just all of the things. Today I held her on my lap for just a moment and thought about the tiny four-pound baby that she was and the smart, funny, beautiful little girl that she is now and I'm thankful. So thankful for this healthy girl despite all of our health scares early on. Grateful that God gave her life and let us be her parents. And enormously proud of the person she is becoming.
I will probably be a wreck tomorrow, and I anticipate she'll have some emotions as well. But just like every other thing we've faced in the last five years, I know we'll be okay. I look forward to this new part of our life as a family and the opportunity to give Piper some more attention and guidance. I can't wait to see how each of my girls grow and change in the coming months.
Monday, August 24, 2015
Tuesday, April 21, 2015
From One Season to Another
It's April. Spring is in full force here with trees budding, flowers blooming, and sun shining. I am so thankful for this season because it reminds me of new life and what a gift that is. God takes us through every season for a purpose, and I have realized that my life will always follow that pattern. There will be times of joy and ease, followed by times of confusion or heartache, and sometimes there are even periods when I will struggle to see the light and will have to find my footing all over again. There will never come a day that I have it all figured out.
Last time, I shared how the days seemed impossible. Honestly, I went through a season of depression and really struggled to find solid ground again. My relationship with God was strained, I felt distant from my family, I had deep sadness over situations outside my control, and truly felt like I was drowning under the weight of it all. I am thankful that my emotional winter has passed and that things are getting better now, but those feelings still come up. And I think I've finally accepted that there will always be struggle in this life. I won't ever reach that point where everything is neat and tidy and perfect...because perfect isn't real. If I want to live with real people and love them and follow Jesus, then no, my life won't look real pretty sometimes. Of course, there are beautiful days when everyone is relatively happy and we do something fun, but there are also days when everyone is screaming and I'm angry and I wonder why have I chosen to live this way?
I have been tempted my entire life to wish for the next thing. When I struggled through the awkward teenage years, I thought college would make everything better. When I got to college, all I could think about was how ready I was to get married and start my real life. When I got married and it was hard and messy (and sometimes ugly) I thought having kids would somehow make life fun again (yeah, I know...). And then when babies came and I was obviously going to be the best mother in the universe...I got a pretty rude awakening. I was actually not a natural at being a mother. The first two months of Ellie's life were spent with me just praying that she would sleep constantly and eating a lot of crackers while watching TV. Not a glorious beginning to what I thought was my life's calling.
But the good news? God gave me a way. Yeah, I kinda stunk at being a stay at home parent. And I was really selfish with my time. But very slowly, through bits and pieces, God provided. He brought me to a blog, of all things. A chance to write and think and reflect a little, and to feel accountable in some way to the job He had given me. Most of my posts were boring and superficial, but it was something. Through that, I became more interested in reading other blogs, which inspired me to learn how to cook after three years of tacos and pasta. I slowly started to find my footing in my new life.
There are a thousand other baby steps in my story of how God took me from a place of confusion, desperation, and darkness into a place of light and knowing. Knowing I am weak, but He is strong. Knowing I'm unqualified, but He qualifies the called. Knowing I'm just tired and burned out and done, but He is never done with me. And just knowing that gives me peace.
That's been on repeat these last few months. The struggle isn't over, but it has been lifted for a time. And for that, I'm thankful.
Last time, I shared how the days seemed impossible. Honestly, I went through a season of depression and really struggled to find solid ground again. My relationship with God was strained, I felt distant from my family, I had deep sadness over situations outside my control, and truly felt like I was drowning under the weight of it all. I am thankful that my emotional winter has passed and that things are getting better now, but those feelings still come up. And I think I've finally accepted that there will always be struggle in this life. I won't ever reach that point where everything is neat and tidy and perfect...because perfect isn't real. If I want to live with real people and love them and follow Jesus, then no, my life won't look real pretty sometimes. Of course, there are beautiful days when everyone is relatively happy and we do something fun, but there are also days when everyone is screaming and I'm angry and I wonder why have I chosen to live this way?
I have been tempted my entire life to wish for the next thing. When I struggled through the awkward teenage years, I thought college would make everything better. When I got to college, all I could think about was how ready I was to get married and start my real life. When I got married and it was hard and messy (and sometimes ugly) I thought having kids would somehow make life fun again (yeah, I know...). And then when babies came and I was obviously going to be the best mother in the universe...I got a pretty rude awakening. I was actually not a natural at being a mother. The first two months of Ellie's life were spent with me just praying that she would sleep constantly and eating a lot of crackers while watching TV. Not a glorious beginning to what I thought was my life's calling.
But the good news? God gave me a way. Yeah, I kinda stunk at being a stay at home parent. And I was really selfish with my time. But very slowly, through bits and pieces, God provided. He brought me to a blog, of all things. A chance to write and think and reflect a little, and to feel accountable in some way to the job He had given me. Most of my posts were boring and superficial, but it was something. Through that, I became more interested in reading other blogs, which inspired me to learn how to cook after three years of tacos and pasta. I slowly started to find my footing in my new life.
There are a thousand other baby steps in my story of how God took me from a place of confusion, desperation, and darkness into a place of light and knowing. Knowing I am weak, but He is strong. Knowing I'm unqualified, but He qualifies the called. Knowing I'm just tired and burned out and done, but He is never done with me. And just knowing that gives me peace.
That's been on repeat these last few months. The struggle isn't over, but it has been lifted for a time. And for that, I'm thankful.
Thursday, January 8, 2015
Impossible Days
Yesterday was a terrible day. So bad. And I feel like I've had more bad days in the last month than good ones. I am burned out and hollow and empty and tired. I have no energy to balance everything I'm taking on...I'm stressed about my kids' behavior, my exhaustion, my friends' problems, my disorganization. Name it and it's probably on my list of "things I'm stressed about."
My days feel impossible right now. It's impossible for me to be a happy mom. It's impossible for me to be kind, loving, and gentle with my kids. It's impossible for me to make it through a day without yelling at someone. It's impossible for me to feel rested, rejuvenated, or relaxed. It's impossible for me to have any energy beyond getting out of bed and feeding the kids three meals a day. There are whole days where I don't shower, get dressed, clean up, or do anything significant other than maintaining meal times and nap times. There are days when I have something fun planned, like going to the children's museum or a play group, but when the time comes to leave the house I just can't muster up enough of me to go. Heck, there are days when I desperately need to go to the grocery store because all we have to eat are crackers and water and I still can't even make that happen. At the end of almost every day, my concluding thought is, "I have failed my kids...again."
This last month has been hard. I have had many prayers that don't seem to be answered right now. I have other prayers that are answered, but with a not now and that's even harder for me to take. I wore myself out for the sake of holiday fun and I've retreated from most of my close relationships. I'm not having a lot of face-to-face conversation with other people, which means that all of my fears, guilt, failures, and anxieties live and grow stronger inside my head instead of having the light shone on them from someone else's perspective.
Billy read a devotional by John Piper this morning that started with Mark 10:27: "Jesus looked at them and said, 'With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God.'" Initially that verse sounded trite to me. Kind of like Philippians 4:13: "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." I have heard that verse used for everything from lifting weights to battling cancer. In this raw moment, it sounds overused and unoriginal. Scripture is God's word and I'm not making light of that, but rather how we so often get these battle cry verses and just use them over and over for the light and heavy things in life.
Thinking over how frustrated I am, I realized that every day does seem impossible. I feel like I'm just flailing in the ocean and trying so hard to keep myself and my three kids from drowning. I might be barely keeping them afloat, but with every wave I suck in a little more salt water. Soon, I will be a dead weight that will drag my kids under, too.
I don't want my life to look like that. I don't want my kids to grow up remembering how Mom was so dark and sad and angry. I don't want to push my husband away because I'm filled with hurt and guilt over my mistakes as a parent. So even though that Scripture sounds rough to me, it is a promise from Jesus. What I look at as impossible, God says it's not when I'm with Him.
I don't know how this will manifest itself today, but I wanted to share this because I can be good at hiding what my real life looks like. The appearance of having it together doesn't mean anything. My real days are filled with screaming and little girls playing princesses and cooking quesadillas again and hair getting caught inside remote-controlled cars and babies learning to walk. Real days are hard and funny and at the end of them I sometimes cry because I just don't know what to do. My hope is that as I get back into community and spending time with real people I will start to let some of these dark things go and rest in Jesus' promises. I'm not alone. My life is not impossible with God. He is the one who gives me strength. He is good.
My days feel impossible right now. It's impossible for me to be a happy mom. It's impossible for me to be kind, loving, and gentle with my kids. It's impossible for me to make it through a day without yelling at someone. It's impossible for me to feel rested, rejuvenated, or relaxed. It's impossible for me to have any energy beyond getting out of bed and feeding the kids three meals a day. There are whole days where I don't shower, get dressed, clean up, or do anything significant other than maintaining meal times and nap times. There are days when I have something fun planned, like going to the children's museum or a play group, but when the time comes to leave the house I just can't muster up enough of me to go. Heck, there are days when I desperately need to go to the grocery store because all we have to eat are crackers and water and I still can't even make that happen. At the end of almost every day, my concluding thought is, "I have failed my kids...again."
This last month has been hard. I have had many prayers that don't seem to be answered right now. I have other prayers that are answered, but with a not now and that's even harder for me to take. I wore myself out for the sake of holiday fun and I've retreated from most of my close relationships. I'm not having a lot of face-to-face conversation with other people, which means that all of my fears, guilt, failures, and anxieties live and grow stronger inside my head instead of having the light shone on them from someone else's perspective.
Billy read a devotional by John Piper this morning that started with Mark 10:27: "Jesus looked at them and said, 'With man it is impossible, but not with God. For all things are possible with God.'" Initially that verse sounded trite to me. Kind of like Philippians 4:13: "I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me." I have heard that verse used for everything from lifting weights to battling cancer. In this raw moment, it sounds overused and unoriginal. Scripture is God's word and I'm not making light of that, but rather how we so often get these battle cry verses and just use them over and over for the light and heavy things in life.
Thinking over how frustrated I am, I realized that every day does seem impossible. I feel like I'm just flailing in the ocean and trying so hard to keep myself and my three kids from drowning. I might be barely keeping them afloat, but with every wave I suck in a little more salt water. Soon, I will be a dead weight that will drag my kids under, too.
I don't want my life to look like that. I don't want my kids to grow up remembering how Mom was so dark and sad and angry. I don't want to push my husband away because I'm filled with hurt and guilt over my mistakes as a parent. So even though that Scripture sounds rough to me, it is a promise from Jesus. What I look at as impossible, God says it's not when I'm with Him.
I don't know how this will manifest itself today, but I wanted to share this because I can be good at hiding what my real life looks like. The appearance of having it together doesn't mean anything. My real days are filled with screaming and little girls playing princesses and cooking quesadillas again and hair getting caught inside remote-controlled cars and babies learning to walk. Real days are hard and funny and at the end of them I sometimes cry because I just don't know what to do. My hope is that as I get back into community and spending time with real people I will start to let some of these dark things go and rest in Jesus' promises. I'm not alone. My life is not impossible with God. He is the one who gives me strength. He is good.
Thursday, October 9, 2014
What to Do When Your Kids Call You Out
So this month has been pretty crazy for me physically, emotionally, and mentally. We are moving in just over a week (!!!) and I'm so excited about that! However, I am not loving the whole "living in a mess of boxes" thing right now. I am feeling pretty unmotivated to get things done and I'm really lost on how to actually be productive when I'm trying to keep all three kids happy, safe, and occupied. So I just spend a lot of time thinking about what needs to be done instead of actually doing it. On top of that, my Gracie girl is so done with nursing and while I've accepted that I can't control her choices, it definitely makes me sad. My physical need-based bond with her is over earlier than I wanted it to be. I'm trying to remind myself that I nursed her for longer than she will be on formula and that we made it to 7.5 months on mostly breastmilk (so that's longer than none!). I've been holding on for the last month or so by nursing once a day and doing formula twice a day but I knew that wouldn't last very long. She's just not interested in nursing anymore and it stresses me out to try to push it, so yesterday I just called it and said we were done with that. And after a week or so I'm sure I'll be okay with it and it won't make me burst into tears to talk about it.
I've been pretty exhausted lately and definitely stressed and I know it comes out in the way I talk to Billy and the girls. I do really try to keep myself in control and not explode or freak out but sometimes I just hit my limit. I'm also in a perpetual state of guilt over the things I don't do or don't do well, like cooking dinner, playing with the kids, reading more than one book a day with them, taking them outside, etc. Right now we're in survival mode and unfortunately that's just my reality. I can still try to be intentional with them but I know I will probably fall short in my own eyes until we can get back to some sort of normal existence.
Lately Ellie has had some pretty interesting thoughts about spiritual things. I love how much more aware she has become about who Jesus is and how He loves us. This has also brought some interesting things into conversation, like death and Jesus' cross and many things that we're just not sure how to respond to. Yesterday she told Billy and I, "Jesus says I should not hit Piper." And we're like, "That's right, we shouldn't hit!" Then she says to me, "Mommy, Jesus says you should not yell at us and make us sad anymore." I really didn't know what to say. In the moment I kind of laughed and found it amusing, but it stayed with me all day and I just kept playing it over in my head.
I'm just going to confess it now....I yell when I'm frustrated with the kids. I ask them to clean up, they act like they don't hear me, and then I yell to get their attention. They start fighting each other while I'm feeding Grace and I yell to get them to stop. We're running late and need to be somewhere and one of my children takes FOREVER to get dressed because she'll take her pajamas off and then stand in the middle of her room naked and crying that she's cold while she has her hands full of nice warm clothes. So I yell, "PUT YOUR CLOTHES ON!!!" I yell because things that are very black and white to me aren't that way for my kids. And what's crazy is that I remember being little and doing stupid things that frustrated my teachers or my parents and I never once thought, "I'm going to do something stupid and bad on purpose!" I was just curious or distracted and didn't think before acting. Which is exactly what all little kids do. Including my own.
So what do you do when your kids call you out (what did I do)?
Number one, I'd say go cry it out (preferably with God and your husband, who were both right there when it all went down and they know about it anyway). Have a good cry and let out all those feelings of guilt and sadness and confess whatever you need to get off your chest (even if that turns into a conversation about weaning your baby earlier than you wanted).
Number two, recognize that God is here in this moment and He knows every struggle you face every day. He doesn't want you to feel like you have to do all of this alone. He made you the way you are, including your strengths and weaknesses. If you and I were perfect people who never did anything wrong, I know we would probably feel like we don't need God. But I think God allows for our sinful issues or weaknesses so that we realize we can't live without Him. A verse I come back to over and over is 2 Corinthians 12:9: "But he [the Lord] said to me [Paul], 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." I really do believe that God gets glory from us admitting our faults, issues, sins, problems, weaknesses, struggles, whatever. Because we can use those times as an opportunity to say, "God, I need you. I'm really struggling with yelling at my kids and controlling my anger. Help me to have self control and tap into your Spirit when I can feel that rage coming." And I trust that God will answer that prayer.
Number three, apologize and ask forgiveness from whomever you've affected. This is something I really need to work on, because I often don't bother to ask for forgiveness until my kids call me out on something and that guilt motivates me to apologize.
Number four, move on. Yes, it hurt a lot when Ellie said that. But she is a child who honestly told me (without fear of my reaction) how I had hurt her. Isn't that kind of awesome in a way? She felt safe enough with me to say that out loud without any fear of retribution. And she was just telling me how she felt. When I look at what I want for my children as they grow up, that is definitely on my list. I want my children to feel comfortable asking any question or telling us anything about how they feel, and never fearing that we won't love them because of it. So in a way, this little heartbreaking and embarrassing comment from my daughter helped me see that I'm doing okay as a parent. Yes, I have things I definitely need to work on. But I'm a work in progress just like everyone else. It's time to learn what I can from this and move forward.
And by the way...for those folks who read this blog, thank you! You have no idea how much your comments and encouragement mean to me. This journey of tearing down my facade of perfectionism is so important to me right now, so for those people who remind me that it's good to be real with others, I really appreciate you. You are a major blessing to me on my journey! Please please please email or message me on Facebook if there's ever a way I can bless you in return!
I've been pretty exhausted lately and definitely stressed and I know it comes out in the way I talk to Billy and the girls. I do really try to keep myself in control and not explode or freak out but sometimes I just hit my limit. I'm also in a perpetual state of guilt over the things I don't do or don't do well, like cooking dinner, playing with the kids, reading more than one book a day with them, taking them outside, etc. Right now we're in survival mode and unfortunately that's just my reality. I can still try to be intentional with them but I know I will probably fall short in my own eyes until we can get back to some sort of normal existence.
Lately Ellie has had some pretty interesting thoughts about spiritual things. I love how much more aware she has become about who Jesus is and how He loves us. This has also brought some interesting things into conversation, like death and Jesus' cross and many things that we're just not sure how to respond to. Yesterday she told Billy and I, "Jesus says I should not hit Piper." And we're like, "That's right, we shouldn't hit!" Then she says to me, "Mommy, Jesus says you should not yell at us and make us sad anymore." I really didn't know what to say. In the moment I kind of laughed and found it amusing, but it stayed with me all day and I just kept playing it over in my head.
I'm just going to confess it now....I yell when I'm frustrated with the kids. I ask them to clean up, they act like they don't hear me, and then I yell to get their attention. They start fighting each other while I'm feeding Grace and I yell to get them to stop. We're running late and need to be somewhere and one of my children takes FOREVER to get dressed because she'll take her pajamas off and then stand in the middle of her room naked and crying that she's cold while she has her hands full of nice warm clothes. So I yell, "PUT YOUR CLOTHES ON!!!" I yell because things that are very black and white to me aren't that way for my kids. And what's crazy is that I remember being little and doing stupid things that frustrated my teachers or my parents and I never once thought, "I'm going to do something stupid and bad on purpose!" I was just curious or distracted and didn't think before acting. Which is exactly what all little kids do. Including my own.
So what do you do when your kids call you out (what did I do)?
Number one, I'd say go cry it out (preferably with God and your husband, who were both right there when it all went down and they know about it anyway). Have a good cry and let out all those feelings of guilt and sadness and confess whatever you need to get off your chest (even if that turns into a conversation about weaning your baby earlier than you wanted).
Number two, recognize that God is here in this moment and He knows every struggle you face every day. He doesn't want you to feel like you have to do all of this alone. He made you the way you are, including your strengths and weaknesses. If you and I were perfect people who never did anything wrong, I know we would probably feel like we don't need God. But I think God allows for our sinful issues or weaknesses so that we realize we can't live without Him. A verse I come back to over and over is 2 Corinthians 12:9: "But he [the Lord] said to me [Paul], 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me." I really do believe that God gets glory from us admitting our faults, issues, sins, problems, weaknesses, struggles, whatever. Because we can use those times as an opportunity to say, "God, I need you. I'm really struggling with yelling at my kids and controlling my anger. Help me to have self control and tap into your Spirit when I can feel that rage coming." And I trust that God will answer that prayer.
Number three, apologize and ask forgiveness from whomever you've affected. This is something I really need to work on, because I often don't bother to ask for forgiveness until my kids call me out on something and that guilt motivates me to apologize.
Number four, move on. Yes, it hurt a lot when Ellie said that. But she is a child who honestly told me (without fear of my reaction) how I had hurt her. Isn't that kind of awesome in a way? She felt safe enough with me to say that out loud without any fear of retribution. And she was just telling me how she felt. When I look at what I want for my children as they grow up, that is definitely on my list. I want my children to feel comfortable asking any question or telling us anything about how they feel, and never fearing that we won't love them because of it. So in a way, this little heartbreaking and embarrassing comment from my daughter helped me see that I'm doing okay as a parent. Yes, I have things I definitely need to work on. But I'm a work in progress just like everyone else. It's time to learn what I can from this and move forward.
And by the way...for those folks who read this blog, thank you! You have no idea how much your comments and encouragement mean to me. This journey of tearing down my facade of perfectionism is so important to me right now, so for those people who remind me that it's good to be real with others, I really appreciate you. You are a major blessing to me on my journey! Please please please email or message me on Facebook if there's ever a way I can bless you in return!
Friday, September 26, 2014
A Letter to My Newlywed Self
I've been wanting to write a post on marriage for a while now. I actually started writing one a while ago, but when it got to 3,000 words I decided to scrap that and write a letter to myself as a newlywed instead (here's to being concise!). I have very few regrets over the course of my life, but the early years of our marriage holds one of them. It's easy to put up a front and look like you have the perfect relationship on the outside, while keeping a lot hidden...and I really did that. So if I could go talk to 19-year-old-newlywed Kristen, this is what I would say.
Dear Younger
Kristen,
Congratulations
on getting married! I know you feel like
it couldn’t come fast enough. But, can
you believe it? You are finally here,
where you always wanted to be.
Now that the
honeymoon vacation is over and Billy’s back to work, I know what you’re
thinking. There’s so much to do. You’ve got to prepare for the fall semester,
get your apartment in order, and start figuring out how to cook something other
than tacos or pancakes. Your mental list
is long.
I know you’re
also thinking about this new adventure of being married. It’s so much fun to be known as Kristen
Ephraim, isn’t it? And waking up next to
your husband every day and embarking on all the new couple-y activities like
finding a church with a newlyweds Sunday School class, grocery shopping
together (that one won’t work out too well, just so you know), and doing his
laundry and…hmm. That doesn’t really
seem so exciting. I mean, you knew those
things were coming, so it’s not a surprise.
But it seemed so much more romantic before you got married. Now that you’re there in the middle of it,
cooking and cleaning and laundry and being the
wife is a little more work than what you were anticipating.
But, you know
what? It’s okay to not do it all. Your tiny little apartment does not have to
be perfectly clean and organized all the time.
You will learn to let these things go, but honestly it will only happen
after you have your third child (and you will live in a much larger house that
can’t be cleaned in less than 10 minutes).
Those are coming, by the way. The
kids. In a few years you will have three
perfect, charming, and beautiful little monsters who will consume most of your
day. They are way more hilarious than
you could ever anticipate. They will
also push you until you don’t think you have anything left to give. They will scare you to death, make you cry
and yell, and they will melt your heart.
You will see so much of yourself and Billy in them, which will make you
proud and scared at the same time. You
will worry about how you will raise them to be strong, independent, and
compassionate young women. And no, I
don’t have that one figured out yet…but I’m trusting that it will be okay.
Really, the
reason I’m writing this letter is because I want to talk to you about your
brand-new, very young husband. I know
you love him so much and you already know how great he is. But can I just tell you something? He needs you just as much as you need
him. I already know how stubborn you can
be, Kristen…because I was you. I
remember how you shut Billy out when you were upset. How insecure you were in your own worth. How afraid you were to let people down. How embarrassed and ashamed you felt because
physical intimacy with your husband was painful and nothing like what you
thought it would be. And how all of that
just consumed your thoughts.
You and Billy
will go through a few really difficult years until this problem gets sorted out
(almost 6 years, actually). You will
wonder if being married is the same as living with a roommate. You will break each other’s hearts while
trying to figure out what married life is supposed to look like. You will beg God for healing and change and
get bitter when it doesn’t happen immediately.
You will give up and lose hope and try to accept that this is what your
life will look like…but that sweet husband of yours? He will stick by you. He will hear you when you are venting and
raging and just done. And he will be the
one who encourages you to make that appointment one more time.
And at that
appointment, you have my permission to just lose it. Tell that midwife everything (believe me, if you don’t tell her, she will ask you the
most embarrassing questions and then you’ll have to tell her anyway). She will look you in the eye and say, “Girl,
this is not right. There’s no way you
should live like that.” And she will not
only diagnose you, but also refer you to a specialist who will (through prayer,
hard work, and God’s hand) help heal you.
It will still
take some time for you to let go of that problem, even after the physical
healing happens. You will hold onto your
mental and emotional barriers. You and
Billy will refer to that mental block as “the brick wall.” Every negative experience puts 10 bricks on,
and every positive experience takes one brick down. But don’t lose hope! I’ll go ahead and tell you that after you
celebrate your seventh anniversary, things get a lot better. You and Billy will finally enjoy everything
that God designed for marriage. You will
feel free to actually communicate with Billy (using real words, not just the
silent treatment!). You will lean on
each other when the kids are going crazy and life gets stressful. You will be able to enjoy sex with your
husband and it will fortify your marriage like you wouldn’t believe. You will learn to see the storms you endured
in your early years as laying the foundation for your commitment, and you will
learn to thank God for those hard times.
I know you hear
people say this all the time: marriage is hard.
And I think you do know that, despite being a newlywed. But can I encourage you, right now? Marriage is AWESOME. Yes, it’s challenging. You will get mad, bored, stressed, and
lazy. But you will find that your
husband will be the very best part of your day.
He will make you laugh and give you grace. He will do anything he possibly can to make
you feel loved (including, but not limited to, Thai food and blizzards from
Dairy Queen). He will support you when
you’re hurting and say “I love you” a million times a day because he means
it. He will take the time to have deep
conversations with you about America’s education system, how to raise our
children to not be idiots, and what we think will happen on the next season of The Walking Dead. He won’t laugh at you when you say stupid
things when you’re tired, like “You can only see lightning at night.” Or rather, he won’t laugh until you realize
what you just said and then you both lose it.
So yes, marriage
is hard. But it is also fun and good and
hilarious and life changing. Kristen, it
is seriously the best decision you ever made.
Billy was the perfect choice for you.
Thank God every day that you have him as your husband for life. And just so you know, we don’t have it all
figured out yet. But we are learning and
growing and happy. You will love it when
you get here.
With love from
the future,
Kristen
Friday, September 19, 2014
A Bad Week
In the interest of fleshing out what I last wrote about, here's a rundown of our not-so-great week, which has pushed me to my breaking point more times than I care to admit.
So...we are moving. We are actually very excited about that and are pretty thrilled with our new home, but as everyone knows moving is just hard. We are in the middle of packing, purging, and getting ready for a yard sale, so our house is just a huge disaster. I am not a neat freak, but I really dislike living in clutter and mess. It overwhelms me and puts me in a terrible mood. Chores have gotten put on the back burner, so our house isn't very clean, either. Dirty dishes, piles of laundry, dust and pine needles and tiny specks of who knows what all over the carpet....ugh.
The kids are having a tough time right now. They must sense my stress, because they are fighting a lot and pushing many of my buttons. Ellie and Piper get upset anytime they see me put something in the yard sale pile...like unopened containers of Play-Doh that they've never played with that are also duplicate colors that we already have. Or a bowl that I've had since college that has no purpose. Or a wipe warmer that we haven't used in a year. It doesn't matter what it is, they are really bothered by it. So I feel like a crazy hoarder trying to hide the yard sale stuff from them...and I've run out of space to store all this stuff where they can't see it. Now that the temperature has gone down a bit, Ellie complains of being cold all the time because she has no fat on her tiny little body. If they're not wearing socks AT ALL TIMES it is a crisis and....yeah.
I found lice on Piper. LICE. I wanted to cry a million tears over that. Objectively, I know that lice isn't *that* big of a deal. But it really is for me, because I had it as a kid and it was probably the most humiliating thing I experienced as a child. A thousand times worse than throwing up in the middle of my fourth grade classroom in front of everyone. This is the thing that has pushed me over the edge this week. I have cried and yelled and just lost my mind over this. It has been horrible.
I am eternally grateful for Billy, who is calm when I am...not. He has been the kindest, most level-headed person this week (he really is all the time, but I've noticed it so much more this week while I'm going crazy). He came home on his lunch break today to find me in pajamas and a bathrobe, not showered and just generally stressed, and he gave me a kiss and said, "You look nice." I definitely did not look nice, but he meant it. Thank you, God, for giving me this sweet man!
Are any of these things horrible? No. Will they get better? Thank goodness, yes! I have learned so much about myself this week, especially pertaining to the lice situation. It seems like a weird (disgusting?) way to learn a lesson, but I've realized just how many of my childhood hurts I still carry with me. I have let many of those things go as I've gotten older...but that one is still with me and still holds a lot of power over me. So this week has been about me getting that out of my system. I have ranted and shared all of my deep dark childhood lice secrets with Billy and that actually did make me feel better. Just having someone acknowledge how I feel with complete empathy has been really great. Thankfully, the kids are so young that I don't think they know about the lice. I've just been turning it all into a big game..."Come on girls, let's go put some magic shampoo in your hair! Now it's time to use the special magic comb! Now I'm going to hold a flashlight over your hair and you have to be like a statue!" I'm really glad my kids are easily convinced that I have all these magical things.
Billy's mom is coming to stay with us this weekend, so hopefully Billy and I will be able to get a lot of packing/cleaning/purging done. Our yard sale is next Saturday and I can't wait. I know it will feel so nice to have gotten rid of some unnecessary things, and then we can just focus on getting ready to move. I'm already looking forward to living in the new house...central air and heat, a garage, a big kitchen, and yes, friends...a DISHWASHER.
Now, some pictures to remind me of the good things!
I am so thankful that even in a bad week, there's much to laugh about!
So...we are moving. We are actually very excited about that and are pretty thrilled with our new home, but as everyone knows moving is just hard. We are in the middle of packing, purging, and getting ready for a yard sale, so our house is just a huge disaster. I am not a neat freak, but I really dislike living in clutter and mess. It overwhelms me and puts me in a terrible mood. Chores have gotten put on the back burner, so our house isn't very clean, either. Dirty dishes, piles of laundry, dust and pine needles and tiny specks of who knows what all over the carpet....ugh.
The kids are having a tough time right now. They must sense my stress, because they are fighting a lot and pushing many of my buttons. Ellie and Piper get upset anytime they see me put something in the yard sale pile...like unopened containers of Play-Doh that they've never played with that are also duplicate colors that we already have. Or a bowl that I've had since college that has no purpose. Or a wipe warmer that we haven't used in a year. It doesn't matter what it is, they are really bothered by it. So I feel like a crazy hoarder trying to hide the yard sale stuff from them...and I've run out of space to store all this stuff where they can't see it. Now that the temperature has gone down a bit, Ellie complains of being cold all the time because she has no fat on her tiny little body. If they're not wearing socks AT ALL TIMES it is a crisis and....yeah.
I found lice on Piper. LICE. I wanted to cry a million tears over that. Objectively, I know that lice isn't *that* big of a deal. But it really is for me, because I had it as a kid and it was probably the most humiliating thing I experienced as a child. A thousand times worse than throwing up in the middle of my fourth grade classroom in front of everyone. This is the thing that has pushed me over the edge this week. I have cried and yelled and just lost my mind over this. It has been horrible.
I am eternally grateful for Billy, who is calm when I am...not. He has been the kindest, most level-headed person this week (he really is all the time, but I've noticed it so much more this week while I'm going crazy). He came home on his lunch break today to find me in pajamas and a bathrobe, not showered and just generally stressed, and he gave me a kiss and said, "You look nice." I definitely did not look nice, but he meant it. Thank you, God, for giving me this sweet man!
Are any of these things horrible? No. Will they get better? Thank goodness, yes! I have learned so much about myself this week, especially pertaining to the lice situation. It seems like a weird (disgusting?) way to learn a lesson, but I've realized just how many of my childhood hurts I still carry with me. I have let many of those things go as I've gotten older...but that one is still with me and still holds a lot of power over me. So this week has been about me getting that out of my system. I have ranted and shared all of my deep dark childhood lice secrets with Billy and that actually did make me feel better. Just having someone acknowledge how I feel with complete empathy has been really great. Thankfully, the kids are so young that I don't think they know about the lice. I've just been turning it all into a big game..."Come on girls, let's go put some magic shampoo in your hair! Now it's time to use the special magic comb! Now I'm going to hold a flashlight over your hair and you have to be like a statue!" I'm really glad my kids are easily convinced that I have all these magical things.
Billy's mom is coming to stay with us this weekend, so hopefully Billy and I will be able to get a lot of packing/cleaning/purging done. Our yard sale is next Saturday and I can't wait. I know it will feel so nice to have gotten rid of some unnecessary things, and then we can just focus on getting ready to move. I'm already looking forward to living in the new house...central air and heat, a garage, a big kitchen, and yes, friends...a DISHWASHER.
Now, some pictures to remind me of the good things!
 |
| Piper being such a girl |
 |
| Ellie is ready for winter |
 |
| Grace can no longer be contained to one room...she is on the move! |
 |
| Grace trying to crawl into a box... |
 |
| Ellie started dance class this past week and loves it! |
 |
| This baby is so happy! |
 |
| The girls undergoing a "magic beauty treatment"...aka lice treatment. And Piper was showing off her tushy so that would be why there's a random boom box on her bum... :) |
Tuesday, August 26, 2014
Being Transparent
I recently read this blog post by Modern Mrs. Darcy about what neon lycra and chapped nipples taught her about denying it gets hard sometimes and immediately resonated with her conclusions. It's something that's been on my mind on and off for the last year or so. When we're struggling or hurting or facing hard things in life, why is it our tendency to (usually) try to hide it?
I do it. Two years ago I went through a really difficult trial in my life, and I only shared my struggle with two people (one of whom was Billy). The rest of the time I pretended that my pain wasn't there and everything was just great. Now that it's behind me, it's a lot easier to share with others about that time and point to God's faithfulness and healing. But going through it....I felt like I couldn't tell anyone. I was embarrassed, ashamed, and bitter about something I had no control over. I remember being in a new church and a new life group, and when prayer request time came I felt the nudge to share just a small part of my burden and ask for prayer, but I didn't. It was too personal and I feared being that person with "all the problems." So I kept it to myself and prayed on my own. God still brought me through it, but would the burden have been a little easier to bear if I had confided in a few more people?
I'm definitely not saying that we should just share everything with everyone all the time. There's a time and a place (and the right group of people) to share your vulnerabilities. I just wonder how any of us can have real relationships, or effective ministry, or whatever it is that we're doing if we can't share our burdens, hardships, frustrations, or struggles with the people around us. Facebook can be a great thing, but it's so easy to post the cute pictures and not the ugly ones. It takes nothing for me to share a funny story or post photos of my kids playing in perfect harmony, but rarely do I post proof of the hair pulling, screaming, hitting, temper tantrums, time outs, or me yelling at them. It's easy to paint this lovely picture of life, that everything is beautiful, easy, exceptional, and perfect. But we all know that life isn't that way. Life is hard. Babies don't sleep through the night when everyone says they should. Siblings slap each other in the face over Legos (that was ALL DAY yesterday). Money gets tight, or it's just gone. Our health fails, or our bodies just don't do what we want them to do. We hate our jobs...or we don't even know what to do with our lives. Marriages struggle. We lose direction, momentum, or vision for our lives. All of us experience these things...no one is immune to them.
Just as a small example: I'm having a trying week. I have thrush, which makes feeding Grace extremely difficult. I've done everything I can do at home with no improvement, and I think I waited too long to call the doctor. So now it's horribly painful. Just imagine tiny razorblades slicing into your skin, and that's what this pain feels like when I'm trying to feed Grace. Thankfully I'm now on some medication which will hopefully take care of it, but I've still got several more days before I'm supposed to notice much of an improvement. I want to cry when I think about nursing her 5 times per day for several more days before I can expect this pain to go away. I have seriously considered not breastfeeding anymore because the pain is that bad. And because I'm hurting, Grace doesn't get enough when she tries to eat, so she's waking up in the middle of the night at 7 months old. So then I'm supplementing with formula and sabotaging my own milk supply anyway. Meanwhile, I'm sleep deprived and I have the worst nausea I've had in a long time, which is a side effect of the medication. Ellie and Piper have been at each other's throats the past two days with plenty of screaming and drama and I've hit my limits on just about every front. It just feels like a no-win situation right now. In the grand scheme of things, it will be okay. I will get better and Grace will eat something, whether that's through nursing or formula. But right now, it feels impossible and I just need someone to say, "It will be okay!" {And as I was typing this, my Granny called to check in and she listened to all my woes...thank you, Granny!}
I have been guilty of believing that I should have it all together. It's probably safe to say that most of us have struggled with that lie at one time or another. What I'm trying to say now is that I want to remember how important it is to be transparent. How much it means to me when I share a struggle with friends, and they reply by saying, "I totally know how you feel" or "I would have a hard time with that, too." How refreshing it is to hear from other people who have been through hard things and realize that I'm not alone. And having the opportunity to acknowledge each other's journeys, whether things are good or bad...I think that is the key to living in community. So thank you to those people who have walked alongside me through easy and hard times, who have encouraged me through all sorts of frustrations. I hope I can do the same for you!
I do it. Two years ago I went through a really difficult trial in my life, and I only shared my struggle with two people (one of whom was Billy). The rest of the time I pretended that my pain wasn't there and everything was just great. Now that it's behind me, it's a lot easier to share with others about that time and point to God's faithfulness and healing. But going through it....I felt like I couldn't tell anyone. I was embarrassed, ashamed, and bitter about something I had no control over. I remember being in a new church and a new life group, and when prayer request time came I felt the nudge to share just a small part of my burden and ask for prayer, but I didn't. It was too personal and I feared being that person with "all the problems." So I kept it to myself and prayed on my own. God still brought me through it, but would the burden have been a little easier to bear if I had confided in a few more people?
I'm definitely not saying that we should just share everything with everyone all the time. There's a time and a place (and the right group of people) to share your vulnerabilities. I just wonder how any of us can have real relationships, or effective ministry, or whatever it is that we're doing if we can't share our burdens, hardships, frustrations, or struggles with the people around us. Facebook can be a great thing, but it's so easy to post the cute pictures and not the ugly ones. It takes nothing for me to share a funny story or post photos of my kids playing in perfect harmony, but rarely do I post proof of the hair pulling, screaming, hitting, temper tantrums, time outs, or me yelling at them. It's easy to paint this lovely picture of life, that everything is beautiful, easy, exceptional, and perfect. But we all know that life isn't that way. Life is hard. Babies don't sleep through the night when everyone says they should. Siblings slap each other in the face over Legos (that was ALL DAY yesterday). Money gets tight, or it's just gone. Our health fails, or our bodies just don't do what we want them to do. We hate our jobs...or we don't even know what to do with our lives. Marriages struggle. We lose direction, momentum, or vision for our lives. All of us experience these things...no one is immune to them.
Just as a small example: I'm having a trying week. I have thrush, which makes feeding Grace extremely difficult. I've done everything I can do at home with no improvement, and I think I waited too long to call the doctor. So now it's horribly painful. Just imagine tiny razorblades slicing into your skin, and that's what this pain feels like when I'm trying to feed Grace. Thankfully I'm now on some medication which will hopefully take care of it, but I've still got several more days before I'm supposed to notice much of an improvement. I want to cry when I think about nursing her 5 times per day for several more days before I can expect this pain to go away. I have seriously considered not breastfeeding anymore because the pain is that bad. And because I'm hurting, Grace doesn't get enough when she tries to eat, so she's waking up in the middle of the night at 7 months old. So then I'm supplementing with formula and sabotaging my own milk supply anyway. Meanwhile, I'm sleep deprived and I have the worst nausea I've had in a long time, which is a side effect of the medication. Ellie and Piper have been at each other's throats the past two days with plenty of screaming and drama and I've hit my limits on just about every front. It just feels like a no-win situation right now. In the grand scheme of things, it will be okay. I will get better and Grace will eat something, whether that's through nursing or formula. But right now, it feels impossible and I just need someone to say, "It will be okay!" {And as I was typing this, my Granny called to check in and she listened to all my woes...thank you, Granny!}
I have been guilty of believing that I should have it all together. It's probably safe to say that most of us have struggled with that lie at one time or another. What I'm trying to say now is that I want to remember how important it is to be transparent. How much it means to me when I share a struggle with friends, and they reply by saying, "I totally know how you feel" or "I would have a hard time with that, too." How refreshing it is to hear from other people who have been through hard things and realize that I'm not alone. And having the opportunity to acknowledge each other's journeys, whether things are good or bad...I think that is the key to living in community. So thank you to those people who have walked alongside me through easy and hard times, who have encouraged me through all sorts of frustrations. I hope I can do the same for you!
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