during storms

 Did you know that life isn't always sunshine and roses? I know. Crazy. Who knew? I know my life is certainly perfect and going exactly according to plan, but apparently that isn't always the case. If perchance you find yourself in the same boat, stay tuned.

I have a friend, N, going through a really tough time right now. The worst. The kind of situation you hear about and gasp and squint your eyes and say please God, not me, don't let that ever be me...and then it happens to a friend and it's just as awful as you'd imagined. And that's saying something, coming from a girl as immersed in the world of IF as I am. But anyway. The strange thing is that in the midst of a truly sucky situation, N has actually experienced a lot of growth. She's discouraged but not despairing. She's finding life in the midst of a painful situation. And it's really a beautiful thing.

I asked her to share some of her story and what she's been learning. I know that so many of us can relate to life not going according to plan-- I hope that you will be as encouraged by N's words as I am, and that when you're finding yourself buried beneath the fear again, you'll find the strength to cling to hope and God once more.

This quote has been a real and tangible truth for me of late.  My heart has been broken, I have been abandoned, and seemingly out of options.  But then...THEN GOD.  A friend shared this quote with me as well: 

"Perhaps worship is never more sweeter and worship is never more heart-felt and worship is never more honest and true than in times of trial. Because in that moment I'm not worshiping God because I think he has delivered what would make me happy. I'm worshiping God because He is God. And that is worship!" - Paul David Tripp   

When I had nothing left and I chose to cry out to the Lord as my rock, my strength, my rescuer, my healer, I found all I needed and then some.  Regardless of what storm is raging around me, God is all I need.  

Why is it that the most profound truths are learned while the storm rages?  Why must pain be part of my growth?  I keep returning to Scripture with statements like "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." - 2 Cor. 9.  My marriage is teetering on a precipice.  All I would need to do to lose it is give up hope and give up faith in the Lord's goodness and faithfulness.  I am stronger than I knew and I am not about to let the enemy win this war. I have been catapulted into trusting Him more than I ever had to in the past. When I finally surrendered to His will, asked for His glory to come in this, and His good for us, I found immeasurable peace and joy that can only come from Him cocooning me with His love.  Faith and trust in the Lord brought freedom when I succumbed to His gentle coaxing.  He asks me to hold on loosely.  When I try and trust Him with clenched fists, unwilling to let Him have whatever it is I hold most dear, I do not see all the goodness He has for me.  But when I release my fingers, one by one, or when I step out off the ledge I thought kept me so safe, I am comforted by the sweet arms of Jesus that catch me softly.  What I didn't fully realize is that I was sitting in the safety net of the Lord's hand WHILE I had been unwilling to let Him have everything.  I have been my own hindrance to experiencing the full joy of resting in the Lord.

Fear is a powerful beast.  It rages within my soul at its core.  The enemy knows how to push my buttons and activate my fear.  But over and over the Lord tells me to not to fear.  The enemy rules by fear and I am sick of it.  

"So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." - Is. 41:10

We are commanded in Scripture to "not fear."  It is not just a suggestion, but a directive.  When I feel the fear creeping in and when it threatens to overwhelm me, I pray.  The enemy flees at the sound of God's name.  We wield such power through prayer!  Prayer needs to stop being a last resort and should always be our first line of offense AND defense.  I have spent more time in the Word and in prayer than ever during this time.  I have been laid bare before the Lord, confessing my sins and repenting, and I have found my peace grow each day as I trust more in the Lord than I had yesterday.  Take God at His Word.  Claim His promises!   

"Remain in me, as I also remain in you. No branch can bear fruit by itself; it must remain in the vine. Neither can you bear fruit unless you remain in me. I am the vine; you are the branches. If you remain in me and I in you, you will bear much fruit; apart from me you can do nothing." - John 15:4-5

Having peace in the midst of a storm makes no sense, but it has been my experience.  It really is a peace that passes understanding.  

"The Lord is the everlasting God, the Creator of the ends of the earth.  He will not grow tired or weary, and his understanding no one can fathom.  He gives strength to the weary and increases the power of the weak.  Even youths grow tired and weary, and young men stumble and fall; but those who hope in the Lord will renew their strength.  They will soar on wings like eagles; they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not be faint". - Is. 40:28-31

When at the end of the days that stretch in to weeks and weeks into months, I have Jesus, then I count myself blessed beyond measure.  My external circumstances do not define me unless I let them.  I choose to put my hope in Jesus and the work I know He is doing in me and my life.  He is not absent - far from it - I see that He is closer to me, but always has been had I taken time to notice.  I see His work in the minute details.  I have seen His blessings pop up throughout this trial.  Seeing these rays of light give me renewed hope and strength for the bigger work I know He is doing.

"And we know that in all things God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." - Romans 8:28

"Be joyful in hope, patient in affliction, faithful in prayer." - Romans 12:12

God is faithful. He is mighty to save.  He is merciful and full of grace. Period. He is pruning me and I feel so alive.  Refining is painful, but it is worth the pain.  I can choose to be angry and shake my fist at the Lord, or I can collapse into His everlasting arms that shelter from the storm while giving me strength to keep on fighting; all the while opening my hands more and more to let Him hold what I was holding so close as well as receive His blessings.  Rainbows only appear after a storm, a symbol of God's promise.  He does not allow storms in our lives to happen without having a promise behind them.  He is molding me into His likeness.  He is teaching me to trust him and walk by faith even when I cannot see the next step in front of me.  He has a grip on both of us and this whole situation and He is not letting us go.  So I actively wait on Him.  I pursue Him, serve others, and let Him do what He pleases in and through me, so that I may reflect His light to all around me.

foreshadowing

On Saturday night, after a day full of niece-lovin' and photo shoots, Matt and I found ourselves back at my parents' house with a few hours before bed to kill. It occurred to me that it'd been awhile since I'd dug out my old baby books and 'school days' books (grade school equivalent of baby books...my mom dutifully recorded the highlights of each of our lives well through middle school, as well as collecting pictures, report cards, and various other artifacts in these books. WELL DONE, Mom!). I braved the dust bunnies and mothballs and found my books and was consequently highly entertained for several hours. Then I realized that if I took pictures of what I was seeing, you could be entertained too! So...you're welcome.

My main conclusion is that you can tell a lot about what a person will be like as an adult from how they act/perform/what they like as kids. I'm a prime example of this. I'm basically just a taller version of my 4-year-old self. But let's get some evidence, shall we?

First, a fairly irrelevant but cute class picture of my pre-k class. I helpfully pointed to myself. Tallest one in the class already! Please note that at this time ('87 or '88, according to the thing at the bottom) I had cute hair. It sort of looks like my hair now, really, from what I can tell. But remember that it's cute. This won't always prove to be the case, looking back....

After preschool I embarked on the major journey of kindergarten. Which according to all sources, I totally rocked at. But don't take my word for it. Here's what my mom had to say:

Please raise you're hand if you're surprised to learn I was the best speller, most enthusiastic at music, followed all the rules, and was suspected to be gifted?

Like I said. A five-year-old version of...me.

Never change, cutie. Except that smile. Open your mouth up a little. And maybe consider cutting your bangs straight next time.

But wait! There's more! Still from kindergarten:

This whole loving school, crying when summer came? That continued for most of my life. I liked summer and all, but I LOVED SCHOOL. 

But sweating? Psh. That's for the birds (and we all know how I feel about birds). I have many distinct memories of pitching fits about being forced to wear anything-but-a-dress. I freaked out when I sweated. I hated P.E. Hate hate hate hate hated. I took gymnastics. I took dance classes. These are both acceptable (and AIR CONDITIONED) forms of exercise that did not involve sweating (at least at the five-year-old level).

So that was kindergarten. It was amazing. First grade was much the same. Second verse, same as the first:

Isn't it great that the MOST MEMORABLE thing about me, the thing deemed MOST WORTHY of being noted in the memory book, was my disdain for sweat and pants? I rather like that. It explains why I am naturally drawn to the (rather extensive) dress side of my closet each morning. It explains why I typically decide I'm done working out once I notice myself sweating. It does not explain why I'm attempting an outdoor triathlon in Georgia in August anyway. I guess 25 more years of personal growth have helped me come to terms with sweating and wearing pants. A little bit.

By second grade we'd started standardized testing. High five for the ITBS, anyone? Here's what I remember about testing weeks in elementary school:

LOVED THEM.

Sitting down for hours in the silence, filling in little bubbles, making sure you finished fastest and best? That was my JAM. We can consider this foreshadowing of the future, perhaps to the year 2006, when I decided (a year after graduating college) that it would be fun to take the LSAT after studying for a few weeks. Why? Because I freaking like taking tests, that's why. 

I won't brag about my LSAT scores. I'll brag about my 2nd grade ITBS scores, though. Check it out, yo.

The arrow is pointing to the column that tells the percentage that the student (ME) got correct. My favorite part about this whole spelling/language section is that while overall I did  very well, indicating an early love of reading and writing, please note the section (starred) I performed the most poorly in: overcapitalization.

Foreshadowing to being a True Blogger one day? HAHAHAHA. Everyone knows you're not really blogging unless you randomly capitalize words, right? I mean, who knew 2nd grade standardized tests could be so correctly predictive of the farrrrrrr away future??! Blogging wasn't even a Thing then!

Alright. Enough about what a smarty-pants second-grader I was. The rest of elementary school looked about the same (hates pants, loves school), but my hair got progressively worse. Flash forward to seventh grade and you have this:

Uhhhh...yeah. And I thought I was hot stuff, yall. But you must know: I wore glasses. I just took them off for this picture. And they were ugly glasses, too. But that shirt was from the Limited Too-- LEGIT.

I won't bore you with more. For me, the stuff in my baby books was rather correctly predictive of my future. But don't worry-- that's not always the case! Please examine Exhibit B: my sister-

My precious Sarah, who spends her days bringing light and laughter into the lives of everyone lucky enough to know her, who is a talented hair stylist that quickly draws a devoted clientele in whatever city she moves to, who was the embodiment of the popular high school cheerleader (well, the positive embodiment) and is still the beloved 'baby' of our family...well, it looks like she got off to a rough start. When I was busy loving dinosaurs and hating pants, Sarah got this:

"not very friendly to strangers- stares at people and won't smile...not friendly to people she doesn't know."

And I had to crack up because I would never ever in a million years have guessed those words were describing my sister. They far more accurately sound like me, to tell you the truth! But not Sarah!

So don't worry. Maybe your kid will grow up to be an older, taller version of whoever they are now. Or maybe they'll be totally different. Either way-- record it in their baby book (or your blog, as the case may be) now so that they can have a hearty laugh at their own expense later.

Sarah, upon receiving the news that she was a baby snob.

Master Plan success!

 Well, I'm back.

It was a long and glorious weekend loving on my new niece (and my brother and sister-in-law, too). I was none too happy to have to kiss her sweet head goodbye this afternoon, but I can guarantee that my trips home will be MUCH more frequent now than they have been for the last few years. A sweet baby to love on is about as compelling a reason to drive home as I've ever had, so I don' t imagine it will be too long before we hit the road to head back for more baby loving. Jake, my brother, estimated that I wouldn't make it til Wednesday, but I think I'll stay strong a little longer than that...maybe.

I've got some pictures for ya today, at least. Jake's holding a firm line on the 'no Facebook' picture ruling, which I am happy to respect, even though he didn't explain why and also stated that he might change his mind in the future. I asked whether I could pretty please put pictures on my blog and Instagram, though, because my friends were dying to see my new niece. He had no idea what a blog or Instagram was, and no time or desire to figure it out, so he sorta said 'okay, fine,' as long as blogs and Instagrams aren't 'like Facebook,' and left it at that. So that's where we are, but if he changes his mind and issues me a cease-and-desist, then I hope you'll hold these pictures in your memories for all the days to come. Cause my niece is CUTE!

Meet Carley Anne.

This is the dress that Emily, my sister-in-law, wore home from the hospital when SHE was born!

Matt and I visited them in the hospital on Friday morning and afternoon and then helped them pack up and head home. I mostly helped by holding the baby, obviously, and offering my expert advice whenever asked (or not asked). And I hauled a few loads of pink loot about a million miles to their car in the parking deck. And I kept track of what crap went where when we packed up the room so that later I knew where 'that piece of paper with such and such' and 'that thingy the nurse gave us' were located. This was Stage 1 (Make Yourself Useful) of my Master Plan: Hold The Baby The Most. It went swimmingly.

While Matt fetched their car and pulled it around, I videotaped our entourage leaving the hospital. This was Stage 2: Get All The Good Photos & Videos So That They Won't Want You To Leave. Once we were loading Carley into the car and discussing our transportation arrangements, Emily realized that she couldn't crawl up and over across the back seat of their (huge) SUV to sit with Carley.

 [Rabbit trail: Emily had FOURTEEN STAPLES from her c-section. In addition to the internal stitches and what-not. I'm not sure what's standard these days, but that seemed a little insane. I asked Jake how long her scar was and he holds his hands out about 18 inches apart. And swears he's not lying. But then later on he changes his story and says that the doctors actually had to use the 'pumpkin method' to get Carley out...you know, cut a big circle, pick up her skin, yank Carley out, replace the skin-circle, and stitch? OK, sorry, that's disgusting, but we almost died laughing. So I'm not sure which story is true, but either way, Emily was in a crap-ton of pain from it, and in no condition to be sliding across back seats or doing any sort of movement at all.]

Ever the helpful aunt, I volunteered to sit in the backseat with Carley and make sure she was okay on the way home. This selfless act was well-received by all and I silently congratulated myself for scoring this important job.
 

That's right, suckas-- I'm the one riding with her on her first car ride! BOOM!

 After the slowest and most careful drive of Jake's life, we finally made it to their house. This was when I moved into Stage 3: Make It Seem Like You're Doing Them A Favor.

Emily was exhausted and in pain. She needed to sleep in her own bed. Jake was tired and had loads of sporting events to catch up on. He needed to focus on that. Carley was doing what she does best: sleeping and being cute. I could pretty much handle that on my own. So I made it perfectly clear that everyone was welcome to sleep and I would take care of the baby.

And so they did and I did. And they thanked me for helping them. HAHAHAHAHAHA. No, really. It was excruciating...

I'm not sure if Carley is normal or not, but here's all she does: sleep. She eats about every 4.5 hours, and then she just sleeps some more. She doesn't cry. She doesn't open her eyes. She doesn't fuss. She just sleeps. And does cute little wiggles while she's sleeping. And grasps onto your fingers if you stick them near hers. It's pretty awesome. She seriously doesn't cry. And she has no need for that eat-every-2-hours nonsense most babies apparently need. I guess this is a benefit of weighing over 10 pounds at birth? Who knows. Who knows if it will last, either...heh heh...but it lasted for the 3 days I was there, so that's really all that matters, right? I mean, I think that even Jake and Emily were rather astonished by how easy she is and how little she wakes up during the night.

 So this is basically what we did for three days. Hang out on the couch, pass the baby around, maybe go sit outside for awhile (babies need to tan, you know!)...poke at her and try to wake her up...marvel at how she will make really mean baby faces but never cry...it's pretty awesome.

On Saturday I decided to have a photo shoot with her. Jake and Emily were sleeping, I was in charge, and I decided to put some of the trillions of clothes in her closet to good use before she grew out of them. This was my first newborn photo shoot and I must say, it was pretty awesome. Pretty much she just stayed stuck however I set her, so it was really easy. We did this shoot on their dining table on the covered porch outside.

 I actually got tons of good pictures (Emily cried when she saw them later. SCORE!!) but it takes too long to resize and upload them here, so this is all you get. I thought the yellow dress was just TOO cute!

Later I entertained us by doctoring up the photos a bit on Picmonkey. I think I did a really good job.

Preparing to be the Bachelorette one day!

 Oh, the sunglasses are real, by the way. They were super cute and I thought she'd pitch a fit when I put them on her, but she didn't. Nothing fazes this one, apparently!

So all in all it was a pretty perfect weekend. I would estimate I was the Baby Holder approximately 75% of the time I was there, with the other 25% of the time being shared by the other 7 people who were present most of the time (Matt, my parents, Emily's parents, and Jake and Emily themselves). Those are pretty good numbers, so I feel confident I've sealed my position as Most Favorite Aunt (and sister/sister-in-law) for the time being. Jake and Emily seemed a little panicky when we left town, but we have plans for plenty of FaceTiming and hopefully that will help me out (not gonna help them, since I can't babysit via iPhones...) until we get to be together again in person.

Lest you think I did nothing but hold Carley all weekend, here are a few of my less-notable accomplishments: went to a county-wide yardsale (bought a book and a new bike helmet), ran a 9:34 mile (PR!), spent $$$$$ at Ulta, drank 2 new beers (summer bucket list goal), and uncovered a veritable treasure trove of laughs in my own baby books/'school memory' books my mom kept about me as a child. Don't worry. More coming from that soon. If you follow me on Instagram, you've tasted but a preview...mwah ha ha.

With that, I'm off to get ready for a new week (bah) and -most likely- stare at pictures of my sweet baby niece. And text my brother to see if he misses me yet. Yippee!!

new babies are seriously distracting

I'm an aunt (again)!! My brother's baby was born yesterday morning, happy and healthy. Here's the sad part- no pictures for you yet. I mean, I have pictures...but I was instructed to not put any on Facebook yet (and Jake and his wife haven't, either)...so I'm not sure whether  or not that extends to my blog (not that they're even aware it exists), but I'll err on the side of safety and save the photos and name for once I'm sure they're okay with me sharing. Plus maybe I'll get some pictures in REAL LIFE when I meet her tonight and then I can be in the picture too, and obviously that will be way better, right? 

But! She is here! She arrived via a scheduled c-section two weeks prior to her due date and she weighed 10 pounds 3 oz, so I'm gonna go ahead and say it was a great idea to not go full term there. My sister reports that Baby already has a couple extra chins and fat rolls and is about 7 feet tall (my estimate based on pictures), so I'd say she's off to a great start! And not to worry- my hair stylin' sister already had Baby's hair done up in bows, so we know this one won't be lacking in the fashion department. All in all I am thrilled to death and counting the minutes until I get to meet her tonight! I was pretty worthless for anything except staring at my phone and waiting on people to text me pictures and videos yesterday...my apologies for anyone that wanted me to think about anything else!

This week has been a total wash as far as tri-training. Bah. I was in way too much pain Sunday and Monday to do anything other than the bare minimum of movement. I took a verrrrry slow (21 minutes, hahahahaa) mile walk Tuesday night to get a feel for how it would go. Yesterday I decided to try biking instead, and luckily that went much better than walking, since my stomach stays basically still the whole time. So that workout ended up being a good one. And now we're leaving right after work to head to Augusta for the weekend (BABY TIME!!!), so who knows if I'll get in any more decent workouts. We haven't had a chance to get a bike rack for our car yet, so we can't take our bikes with us (they won't fit in the Matrix with all of our luggage and Lola hogging the space)...but we can run there or go to the gym (our gym has a location just a mile from my parents'...CONVENIENT!), so hopefully we'll make something happen. I'm trying to not get discouraged by basically a whole week off. And I'm trying to get used to the idea that this might happen...uhhh...every month. Piece of crap. I'll just have to train extra hard the other 3.5 weeks of the month. Bah. I hate you, endometriosis.

Last night I had to run around the yard to take pictures of all the plants to show my mom when we go home. Most of the pictures are total crap, but I am happy to announce that our blueberry bushes are full of (unripened, obviously) fruit!!

So that'll make for an easy check-off on the ol' Summer Bucket List (pick berries)! And oh yeah- ALL are welcome to 'do' the list! Don't feel like only people who fit the very specific demographic described in the title can do it...you may notice that that would exclude even me, co-author of the list, due to my not exactly being in my 20s anymore...so, yeah. We just felt like making a ridiculous title for it. :) 

Okay...so, clearly my brain is empty of everything except thinking about squeezing my chunky little niece as soon as possible (which is, sadly, not very soon...a loooot of hours and miles between us), so I'll stop boring us all now. If you have any tips about how to politely hog the new baby away from all the other relatives in the hospital, feel free to let me in on them. Good time to play the woe is me, I am childless card? No? Makes people feel uncomfortable like I might steal the baby? Is there a reason my dad went on for 30 minutes yesterday about how high-tech the anti-baby-stealing system is ("Baby has this anklet and DON'T EVEN THINK about crossing past the nurse's desk unless you are Jake or Emily because YOU DON'T HAVE THE MATCHING BRACELET and ALARMS WILL GO OFF!!!!!"....ummm yeah, I know...)...does my own family not even put me above kidnapping? I mean, I'm not...but my own niece? It'd be a little obvious, wouldn't it? Easiest crime to solve EVER! Sheesh. Give me some credit. OK sorry- back to the topic at hand: LEGAL tips for monopolizing baby cuddle time? Thanks!