My God-Sized Dream: Writing My Story

Photo credit: tgifreytag

Last year, I began a new journey of calling this my space to write my story.

I accepted this calling to share His story through my words and began to write the words He wrote on my heart.  

I learned to embrace my calling as a writer and took part in my first Writing Circle.

I also started writing a book, something I've always dreamed of doing...but, somewhere along the way, I got lost.

I started to doubt that I really had a book in me and wondered if this was just a pipe dream...or a God-sized dream.

But enough wondering...and wandering...

It's time to write His story in me and to embrace the God-sized dream He has placed in my heart.  

This year, I'm going to learn to write dangerously, to allow my story to be written the way God wants it written, to finally write down the story (or maybe stories?) He wants me to write.

He has placed this God-sized dream in my heart for a reason...and I'm going to write it.

Linking up with Holley Gerth for a year of embracing our God-Sized Dreams.

Linking up with Heather of Extraordinary Ordinary for her weekly Just Write exercise.

 

Just Write: Waiting

 

"Therefore the LORD waits to be gracious to you, and therefore he exalts himself to show mercy to you. For the LORD is a God of justice;

blessed are all those who wait for him."

Isaiah 30:18

Today, I am just two days away from my due date.  To say I'm ready would be an understatement.  I'm so anxious and feeling rather miserable.  This little one sure is keeping us guessing...and momma exhausted.  

God sure does have a sense of humor.  We've prayed and asked so many others to join us in praying that this little one would not arrive early, but that his lungs would be ready to breathe in this world on his birth day.  The past month, I've had contractions off and on and even spent a few times in labor and delivery nearly in active labor...only to have labor stall completely.

And now, just two days away from his due date, it's almost like God is laughing that his answer to our prayers was way more than we expected.  I never expected to carry this little one so far, much less to consider the possibility of being induced.

I feel so relieved knowing he won't be premature, but there's still a part of me that is afraid.  My daughter was two weeks overdue...and very, very sick.  She had swallowed a ton of meconium and my placenta was infected from being so overdue.  It was a long and very difficult labor...but the days that followed were some of the scariest and most trying days of my life.

I know that God already has this little one's story written...but the waiting and the unknown are threatening to consume me.  I'm not good at waiting, especially when I feel miserable physically.  And the "what ifs" are a big part of my struggles with anxiety.

Change is also something I struggle with...and having a newborn again will be a huge change for us.  Our routine will be thrown off and we will have to learn a new "normal" for our family as we get used to being a family of five.

Don't get me wrong.  I am completely in love with this little one already and so thankful God has chosen to bless us again.  He is very much an answer to our prayers.

It's just a battle I face day in and day out...this choosing to rest in His promises instead of allowing the "what ifs" to control my day.

And it's why I know, without a doubt, that I cannot do life without Him.  I desperately need His abounding grace and His peace that surpasses understanding. 

So, today, as we anticipate this littlest one's arrival, I'm going to choose to rest in Him, to wait upon the Lord, because He's already got this one...and He will not leave us or forsake us, no matter what. 

Linking up with Heather for this week's Just Write.

 

Just Write: Peace

Photo via Instagram

Early in the morning, I slip out of our room.

The cabin is silent except for the soft sound of birds singing their morning blessings.

Bible in hand, journal propped open, pen posed for writing, I allow my fingers to do the talking, listening carefully for the still small Voice.

The sun is just beginning it's morning assent, flooding the mist covered lake with a gentle, calming light.

Good morning, Lord.

My soul whispers as I imagine His hands painting this masterpiece right before my eyes, a reminder of His promises, His steadfastness, His never ending presence.

Another day filled with grace, mercy, and a love I can't even begin to fathom.

My heart whispers thanks simply for the blessing of a new day.

And my fingers begin forming letters, words, sentences as I allow His words to penetrate my life.

Peace, like a river, or a quiet lake in the middle of God's creation, attends my soul.

Captivated by Him, I am ready to begin, a fresh start, a new beginning, a hope filled promise for the future, knowing without a doubt that it is well with my soul.  

Photo via Instagram

Linking up with Heather for this week's Just Write.

 

Just Write: One Last Time

Photo taken with Instagram (mom2vanda)

Last night, my husband cuddled up next to me on the couch.

"Talk to me, please?" he said.

My mind was a mess of thoughts, but I couldn't seem to put words to them.

How do I put into words the memories locked deep inside a heart that is still aching one loss, two losses, now three?

It always seems unfair when the world keeps going while our hearts are still grieving.

The world seems to stop the day a loved one dies and for the days leading up to a funeral.

Friends send prayers and love.  Family gathers together to hold each other tight.  Words don't need to be spoken, just a simple hug, an understanding glance.  

I walk into the church, preparing myself to bury the third grandparent in three years.

And it all comes back to me...

walking down the halls to my grandpa's bed side, watching him struggle to stay awake, hearing the nurses and doctors rushing about with concern as his oxygen levels drop without warning...

the phone call from my sister telling me to hurry back, hearing the words "he's dying" for the first time...

holding his hand, whispering words of love...

one last time.

I hear the phone ring and I remember the day my mom found my grandma lying on the bathroom floor, confused and disoriented.

And it all comes back to me...

the days of waiting, the gaining hope one day and losing it the next, the family flying in from all over, walking down the same hall way and a road we've walked before...

the phone call from my dad as we prepared a Christmas dinner we never got to eat...

holding her hand, whispering words of love...

one last time.

The text messages from my mom are still there, telling me great grandma was failing, plans for hospice were already in place, and it was time to stay another goodbye.

Holding her hand, whispering words of love...

seeing her smile and the light of recognition in her eyes as I walked in the room...

watching her hug my husband close and telling him she was so glad he was there...

hearing her talk about my little ones and knowing how much she loved them...

kissing her forehead, watching her struggle, saying goodbye, and somehow finding the strength to walk away...

one last time.

It never gets easier...and the memories pile on top of one another in a continuous, never-ending journey of grieving.

The only hope I have is found in this: no matter what heartbreak comes my way, Jesus is enough, more than enough.  

These three empty pieces of my heart will always ache and can never be replaced or filled...here on earth.  But there will come a day when all my tears will be wiped away and will be no more.  

"In the world you will have tribulation. 

But take heart; I have overcome the world." 

(John 16:33)

There is no valley, 

there is no darkness 

there is no sorrow 

greater than the grace of Jesus.  

There is no moment, 

there is no distance,  

there is no heartbreak 

He can't see you through.

(Point of Grace, There Is Nothing Greater Than Grace)

 Linking up with Heather for her weekly free writing exercise, Just Write.


 

Weak and Loved

Photo credit: jasontabarias

"She knows what is coming tomorrow, yet she sleeps soundly. And why should she worry? God who gave her joy in the sunshine today will hold her close in the valley tomorrow." (Emily Cook, Weak and Loved)

 Though the days are long and the child taking up more and more space in my womb makes me weary and exhausted, sleep is hard to find.  I lay in bed, my mind filled with so many fears and worries and burdens.

In my dreams, I imagine our littlest one in the NICU, too tiny even for newborn clothing, struggling for every breath, his weak little body having too soon left the safety of his mother's cocoon.  The words of the father we met in the NICU the last time echo in my thoughts, "This is our third baby in the NICU".  And I wonder if that will be us.

My thoughts wander to a night only a week ago, helping my daughter put on her soft pink footie pajamas, the ones my sweet grandma hand picked for her, the last gift from a women who loved well and is still so loved by many.  As I tried to zip them closed, my daughter struggles to pull it up over her shoulders and I realize it is almost too small.  And I can't bear packing it away, one more final reminder that she is really gone.

Tears come unexpectedly these days, pregnancy hormones quickly overtaking my already struggling emotions.  I weep over the silliest, most random, and sometimes meaningless things.  Then I wonder, what if I fall again?  What if the darkness takes over once more and I can't find my way out this time?  I remember well that feeling of hopelessness and loneliness...and I fight daily to keep it from coming back.

My parents sold their home, the home they've owned for over 20 years.  If walls could speak, oh the stories it would tell of the five kids who grew up to be adults, of the parents whose love for each other held us all together in sickness and in health, of the memories buried deep in the wooden floors and freshly painted walls.  I know it's a good change, but it's still a hard change.

My grandparents home awaits new life, plans already in the works for its future.  We will watch our little ones run around the circle of hallways I once enjoyed as a kid.  We will celebrate holidays and family and love within its walls.  It will grow and change as my family continues to grow and change.  But it will always tell the stories of the love that first laid its foundation.  And the memories will not soon be forgotten.

Some days, even when I count my blessings and remember how all sufficient His grace is, I still struggle.  As Emily said, "my own wounds still hurt, and they would take some time to heal".  Grief is a strange, unpredictable journey.  Though I am stronger than the days depression and anxiety held a firm grip on me, though it's been months since my sweet grandmother breathed her last, though my two NICU babies are now healthy, growing children filling my days with joy and making my heart explode with love, I am still weak.

Yet, "though I am weak, He loves".  The same God who saw us through the last two NICU stays will see us through if that is where the road leads again.  The same God who brought me through the storms of depression and anxiety will lead me through any dark valleys before me.  The same God who walked me through the first year of grieving the loss of my grandfather will continue to bind up my broken heart and give strength to my weary soul as I continue to walk this road of grief again.

He is not surprised by today and already knows my tomorrows.  As Emily wrote so beautifully about her own dark valleys, "be weak and be loved".  Because any strength I already have comes from Him.  Left on my own, I am too weak, but His strength is always enough and His grace is all sufficient.

And so, for all the tomorrows I don't know, for the future that is always uncertain, I will rest in His love that is already more than I deserve.  Though I am weak, I am loved. 

"I do know this: Worry stops nothing.  Mental rehearsals do nothing.  I cannot prepare my own heart for that day in a hypothetical world.  God never asked me to do that.  He sees the sin that mixes itself with my love.  Yet He has mercy, in Jesus, giving daily forgiveness and strength for the daily demands of love.  he gives daily bread; He strengthens me in days of health and sickness."  (Emily Cook, Weak and Loved)

  Linking up with Jade for Virtual Coffee 

 Linking up with Heather for Just Write

***

Psst, right now you can get Emily's beautifully written story FREE as an e-book on Amazon.  I read it in a day - it is THAT good!  Now I'm seriously considering buying the paperback just to be able to page through and read it again.  There's something about holding the pages of a book in your hands that will always be better than an e-book.

Also, the winner of my 75 (Facebook) Fan Giveaway has been announced - check out the post here and be sure to LIKE my facebook page if you haven't already.  I love the conversations and connections that happen there. 

 

Just Write: I Am A Writer

I pulled out this notebook filled with fresh blank pages waiting for words to fill its space...and memories of the day I pulled it off a shelf lined with notebooks in every size and color imaginable.

"I need to write down these memories, her stories, before I forget."

A quiet tear slid down my face as he looked deep into my eyes, seeing beyond my words and into my heart filled with a grief so raw and the memories of a last goodbye.

***

But days and weeks and months its pages sat empty, my words imprisoned in my own thoughts and a heart grieving a loss so great.

Until, one day, I stumbled upon this notebook, tossed aside like a forgotten memory.

And opening up to its first barren page, I found myself captivated by words and thoughts and memories and dreams tumbling out of their prison and onto its pages.

***

"This reminds me of your grandma," he says as he reads the first words on these pages.  "It's like reading something she would write.  You write like her."

My heart melts as her face flashes across my memory, a woman who loved words and knew how to weave them into a beautiful story.

These pages were meant for her stories, but somehow finding my own words to weave my own stories seems so much more fitting.

*** I'd love for you to "like" my facebook blog page so I can interact with you more there too.  I'll be giving away a copy of Angie Smith's What Women Fear when I reach 75 fans.

 

Just Write: To the Mommy of a Newborn

As the days, weeks, months count down to that day when we meet this littlest one face to face, I can't stop thinking about that day I first began this journey of motherhood.

Though it was a beginning I hadn't quite expected, I'll never forget holding her in my arms the first time whispering words of love bursting from this new mother's heart of mine and seeing her sweet little face stare at me as if to say, "yes, you're my mommy".

The day we finally left the NICU and drove home with our newborn baby girl, my heart was full.  I couldn't take my eyes off her.  She was really and truly ours.

But I'll also never forget how exhausting, overwhelming, and just plain hard those first few weeks were.  I have always longed to be a momma, but I never realized how all consuming it would be...and how much I would have to give of myself for the sake of this tiny, helpless babe.

No matter how much preparation I made for this little one, I was wholly unprepared for the realities of motherhood.  And no matter how many mommies I had observed or babysitting opportunities I had taken before, no one can really understand motherhood until you are in the thick of it.

The only thing I can do is to fall to my knees daily, filling my heart and soul with the truth of His word and submitting to the only One who can walk me down every road less traveled and give me strength for the bends and twists in the road.

I know the days ahead will not be easy, as our home expands from a family of four to a family of five and from two little ones to three.  If my hands were full before, they will be fuller soon.  But, even more so, my heart will be fuller and our home will be more complete.  

A few reminders to myself and any mommy of a newborn...

You will be sleep deprived and overwhelmed, but these days are fleeting.  All too soon this tiny, helpless babe will be an independent, always on the go toddler.  Babies don't keep...they really do grow so fast.

The dishes, the laundry, the housecleaning...it will be there tomorrow and the day after and every day for the rest of your life.  But these little ones will keep growing and before you know it, the house will be quiet and you will miss these moments.

This little one in your arms is a gift and a blessing.  Don't forget your purpose, your calling, your mission is given straight from the arms of the Creator God.  This is exactly where you belong and it is good.

When your husband walks through the door at the end of another work day, remember that he has had a long day too.  Give each other grace and remember that you are in this together.

And when he asks you what you did today amidst the piles of laundry and dishes, smile and say that you spent your day loving on your little ones and giving them your all. 

There will be days when you feel like you have no strength left, when it feels like you can't go on, but His strength is always enough and His grace is more than sufficient.

And though you make a mistake today, He is gracious enough to forgive a repentant heart and cast your sins as far as the east is from the west.  Yesterday's failures are forgotten; live for today and walk in Him.  

Just Write & 5 for 5: Words

I wrote a post a few weeks ago about how words, like sticks and stones, really can hurt.  And sometimes those words and the hurt behind them are left like a bitter seed.

One little memory can trigger the hurt and pain of the words that hurt and it's hard to remember that forgiveness frees a bitter soul from the captivity of words...and that the Word became flesh fills our empty, hurting souls with words that nourish and give life. 

And a friend who speaks honest words in love and in truth is precious, sweet to the soul like honey (Proverbs 16:24).   

I wrote these words in my journal about those sweet friends God has so graciously placed in my life: "Whenever we are in fellowship I feel so safe and wholly loved.  I can be real with them, because they are real to me.  There are no fake facades or pretend smiles." 

Lately, anxiety has twisted the words of others, making me question and analyze everything said to me or read out loud from a facebook page.  And without realizing it, one little word can remind me of a whole slew of words that once crippled and held me captive.

But then a friend, sweet to the soul like honey, said to me, both in truth and love, words I needed to hear, spoken gently enough not to bruise my already aching heart.  "Have you been reading your bible?"

Because without His truth dripping through my veins, life-giving words filling my empty, broken spirit, I will continue to be held captive.

And so, each morning, no matter how I'm feeling, whether or not the kids are running around screaming for my attention, I make time for His words.  Before I even hear the excuses sinking into my mind, I open up to His words and breathe a fresh, deep breath, soaking up every ounce of His words that live and move and captivate my soul.

Matthew Henry wrote in his commentary of Psalm 119, "the word of God is sweet, very sweet, sweeter than any of the gratifications of sense, even those that are most delicious" and I couldn't have said it better myself.  His words are sweet, very sweet, sweeter than any other.  

How sweet are your words to my taste, 

sweeter than honey to my mouth! 

(Psalm 119:103)

 

Just Write: All About Grace

Inspired by this post, I decided, instead of hiding my words when I feel like such a mess, it's time to open up and share my mess.  Because, I often find that sharing my mess opens up a beautiful picture of grace and gives us a place to share the real depth of our hearts here in this space.

And you know, it really is all about grace.  Grace when I make a mess of motherhood...but tomorrow is still a new day.  Grace when I am filled with tears over nothing at all...but He reminds me of who I am in Him.  Grace when I lash out at my husband instead of filling him with words of encouragement that would build him up instead of tear him down...but he holds me in his arms and reminds me he will love me no matter what.

I've been struggling, friends.  I am overjoyed at the life being knit together in my womb...but the morning sickness is really doing me in.  For the past three weeks I've been able to eat nothing more than toast and water.  I was throwing up 2-3 times a day until I finally begged my doctor for help in the form of Zofran.  It helps a little, but I'm still throwing up once a day and eating only small amounts of bland food at a time.

Because I can't eat much and I'm throwing up still so frequently, I am weak and tired and overwhelmed.  This week, our hardwood floors are being refinished.  It was scheduled a week ago, so we had just a week to pack up and move everything out of our living room and bedrooms, the main living areas of our home.

I spent most of the week laying around, barely mustering the energy to make my kids lunch and change my son's diapers.  So, Saturday morning, there was still so, so much to do...and not much I could do to help.  I was so stressed out about it and feeling completely useless that I ended up getting into more than one argument with my husband.  And, of course, I dissolved into tears every single time.

Add to that the realization that, as Easter approaches, so does one more anniversary, now two years since I said goodbye to the grandfather I so dearly loved.  And it's still only been two months since I last hugged my grandmother and heard her say I love you.  Sometimes I forget how hard grief is until it blindsides me.  It will always be there and it will always hurt.

As external stresses begin to weigh me down, inevitably, so does the anxiety I still struggle with.  I'm getting better at recognizing it and stronger at fighting it, but it is still there.  Sometimes it's as much a part of me as breathing and, when I'm already exhausted and overwhelmed, I lose some of that fight.

One day, I was reading post after post of friends whose feet are hitting the pavement still and feeling the high that comes from running...and I realized how much I miss it, how much it has also become as much a part of me as breathing.  And then I begin to feel jealous and sad, jealous because I wish I was out there running too, sad because I wish I was out there running too.  And it's so easy for me to feel down on myself...forgetting that the reason I am not running right now is a very worthwhile and beautiful reason.  I still intend to get out there and run as soon as I am feeling well again, but, for now, it's enough of a workout to get myself out of bed.

And then I read post after post of moms taking their kids out for a walk in this beautiful weather or making some great new recipe...and I stare at the piece of toast I can barely force myself to eat and the macaroni and cheese my kids have been eating for several days straight...and I feel like I have failed somehow.  Because it's easy to play the comparison game and set unrealistic expectations on myself, forgetting that every time I simply set myself up for failure.  And forgetting even more that I am far from a failure...that my purpose right here, right now is growing this little miracle and loving on the two already here in my arms.  Some days all I have the energy for is to hug and hold my kids...and that is more than enough.

So, this morning, after barely mustering the energy to get out of bed and eat a simple piece of toast and one egg, I decided to give myself grace and remember that this is just a season and that my mission is simply to love and cherish these little ones.  And that I can only be the best at being me.  Right now it is hard, but I am going to take it one moment at a time and remember grace, real grace, the kind that loved me despite my mess and chose to die on a cross for me.



 

Just Write: Longing for Simplicity

 Photo credit: Carolina-espaciocreativo

Do you ever feel like there's too much to do and so little time?  You wake up in the morning and look at the pile of dishes, the mess of toys, the overflowing laundry baskets, the food stuck on the kitchen floor.  Then you start to think about the list of errands you have to run, the play groups you signed up to attend, the endless appointments on your calendar.

Before you've even sat down to eat breakfast, the day already seems too overwhelming.  Maybe you'd be better off crawling back in bed and staying there until tomorrow...or, better yet, maybe you should just stay there all week.

Tsh says in her book Organized Simplicity that "we want stuff, so we work hard; our hard work allows us to buy stuff, but our hard work takes all of our energy, so we can’t enjoy our stuff as much as we would like."  Without even realizing it, all the stuff starts to take the place of the things that are really important in life...like family, faith, and relationships.

All it takes is one look at my newsfeed to be bombarded with all the stuff we seem to think will make our life more satisfying, more meaningful.  And it is so easy to be captured by it all, making a wish list of things I need.

I compare myself with others because they have stuff I don't have or their homes are filled with stuff that entices me and makes me jealous.  And I begin to think I too need all that stuff in order to make me happy and feel fulfilled. 

But, the reality is, that stuff is not what life is about.  Because in those moments when we say our final goodbyes or when our little ones crawl into our arms and whisper "I love you", none of that stuff seems to matter anymore.  I wonder how many opportunities to minister or be ministered to I've missed out on because of all the stuff in my life.

My husband and I sat in bed last night and discussed these thoughts swirling around my head and he confirmed what I was just now figuring out...that all that stuff we collected over the years controls us and keeps us from doing the things we really enjoy, the moments in life that are worth remembering and enjoying, because we are spending all our precious time maintaining and cleaning the stuff we already own while still wanting more.

I guess what I'm realizing is that I don't want all that stuff to control me anymore.  I want to get rid of the stuff that doesn't matter, to simplify our lives with only the stuff we really need so we can enjoy the moments that really matter. 

Just Write: To Clean or Not To Clean

When I'm stressed, I clean.  The problem is, my house is rarely clean and the messes just pile and pile until the idea of just cleaning one thing is too overwhelming because there's still so much left to do.  So, my de-stressing method ends up stressing me out even more.

I came across this cleaning schedule on one of my favorite blogs.  It was a free download that allowed you to write in your own cleaning schedule for the week.  I started using it last week and, even though I was sick, I was able to get a good start on it.

Amazingly, it is working.  I suddenly have a bathtub without a constant ring around it, a kitchen floor free of the piles of stuck on food from weeks of neglect, and floors that are easy to walk around barefoot without ending up black from all the dirt in need of vacuuming. 

One of the things I struggle with reading other blogs and even looking at pictures on facebook is seeing these magazine perfect homes that are spotless and beautifully decorated.  I feel so inadequate with my mismatched furniture, toys constantly spread through the house, and the messes that just seem to pile up more and more every week.  I wonder how they do it.  And, the more I think about it, the more I feel like a failure - as a mom, a wife, a homemaker.

Then I read this post today and I remembered that what you see on the internet is not always the reality.  Because it's easy to make ourselves look perfect and happy when on the inside we're breaking.  In the middle of my anxiety attacks, I was always afraid to admit how I really felt.  I avoided writing on my blog, posting pictures on facebook, or even reading through my news feed, because I didn't want another reminder of how much of a mess I really was...and I didn't want to slip up and expose my the real mess.

I've learned a lot in the last year though.  I've learned that the comparison game isn't worth it.  Because the only person I will ever be the best at is being me.  I was fearfully and wonderfully made by the Creator of the universe.  He doesn't make mistakes.  Where I am right now is exactly where I'm supposed to be.

And the truth is, He loves me even when I'm a mess.  Because only He can make something beautiful out of my mess.  He whispers to me softly, "You are loved" and tenderly draws me near, "Just as you are, my beloved."

One thing my dad always says is "the only person who limits you is you".  I understand this now, because I am my own worst enemy.  I look at the picture perfect lives of friends and family and acquaintances and immediately my mind starts racing with thoughts of how imperfect and inadequate I am.

But, instead of starting a "woe is me" pity party, I've decided that if there's something about me that really needs to change, I'm going to do something about it instead of sitting around sulking.  And if there's something that doesn't need to change, I'm going to be okay being me.

So, after the millionth time of complaining to my husband about how the laundry is never ending and the kitchen floor is always dirty and how there's never enough time in the day to do all that I want to do to make our house a home...I finally decided to take action.  I started out by making my cleaning list.

And each day, I've determined to do a little bit of sorting, de-cluttering, and getting rid of things we don't really need.  Because the clutter is like a picture of the horrible mess I once was...and that is not me anymore.  As I throw away clutter, bit by bit, room by room, it's like I'm throwing away every single anxious thought, one by one.

Every little moment that made my anxiety and depression worse, I'm putting behind me now.  I am going to live in freedom, because I know that He has not called me to a life of fear, but of power and love and self control. 

Just Write: Gracious Words

On Sunday afternoon, I enjoyed a peaceful walk all by myself.  I am slowly working my way back to a running routine, so I can train for a half marathon.  My Achilles tendinitis is still healing, so I want to gradually increase my workouts without stressing my tendon too much and giving it time to regain some strength before full on half marathon training.

As I walked, I thought about how easy it would be to just give up and say, "I tried, but I'm just not cut out for this."  But then I think of what I've accomplished already, the confidence I've gained, the obstacles I've overcome, and I know that I can do this, no matter how hard it will be.

Just because something is hard, doesn't mean it's not worth doing.  Because often the hardest things are what make you stronger.  And if anything has made me stronger, it has been my commitment to running.  No matter how many crappy runs I endure, it is always worth it for that one flying-across-pavement-freedom that comes from a run that feels so good and so right.

And I've also learned, in sharing my journey and my struggles, that the best way to heal is to write, to share my story, and to hear other women open up about their own struggles.  The first time I wrote here about the secret behind this mom, the stronghold that held me captive, instead of finding judgement, I found acceptance.  I found a community of women who have held me up through some of my darkest days and encouraged me to keep looking up and keep moving forward.

It's the gracious words of a sweet friend that are like sweetness to the very core of my being.  Those words speak to my heart, reminding me that I have not been given a spirit of fear, but of power and love and self control.  The same power to overcome that voice in me that said, "you can't run.  you'll never be a runner.", is the same power that pulled me up from the pit, placed my feet on solid ground, and showed me a way to live a life of freedom.

You'll never know how much your words will mean until you pick up a pen and paper and write to that friend you've been thinking of or praying for.  It might just be the thing that keeps her from falling off the edge or the words she needed to be reminded of on one of those hard days.  Sending an email or leaving a comment on a blog post means much, but a handwritten note means even more.

A handwritten notes says you took the time to find a card, pen your words without the editing powers of a computer, letting the words freely flow from your heart to the card you so carefully selected because of the words or the picture that spoke your friends' name to you. 

"Gracious words are like a honeycomb, sweetness to the soul and health to the body." (Proverbs 16:24)

Disclosure: This post was inspired by Dayspring, because their lovely cards have been such a blessing to me and to those whose names have been spoken to me as I put my pen to paper and allow my heart to spill out on the page to a friend who needed to hear those words of love and encouragement and truth.  Dayspring sent me two FREE card packs and a beautiful accordion style card organizer as part of their inspired deals this month and encouraged us to write a post about how writing cards change lives.  I signed up for Dayspring's Heart Connection Card Club last year, because I really love their cards and I've been trying to make an extra effort to send out handwritten cards just because.  While this post was inspired and encouraged by Dayspring and their offer of FREE cards, the opinions expressed here are fully my own. 

Just Write: How To Slow Down Time

 Photo credit: Topeka & Shawnee County Public Library

I haven't been able to run for four weeks...and, let me tell you, it's driving me crazy.  In September, when I first started running, I never ever thought I'd fall in love with it.  But it quickly became a necessary part of my day.  I looked forward to waking up in the morning for a run, because it made me feel prepared for the day and it gave me the energy I needed to tackle whatever the day held for me.

But four weeks ago, my Achilles tendon started bothering me.  I had tendinitis as a kid, but the pain was more on the base of the heel, so I took to walking on tip toes.  Sometimes I still find myself walking up stairs on my toes instead of with my whole foot.  Now that it has returned as an adult, the pain is more in the middle of the tendon.  So, when it hurts the most, the pain radiates through my whole foot.

I finally went to a foot doctor last week who explained that my tendon is so tight I am running the risk of tearing it and needing surgery if I don't do something about it.  She gave me strict instructions to rest as much as possible and ice it throughout the day.  In two more weeks I will see her again and hopefully the tendon will be healed enough that I can start some physical therapy. 

So, in the middle of some of the hardest days I've endured and the busyness of the holidays, at a time when I desperately needed to get out for a run to clear my mind, all I could do was sit and rest.  And as I've forced myself to slow down, it's made me think about what's really important.

I've already blogged about how Christmas was different this year, but I've really been thinking about how important it is to slow down and enjoy the little moments that can never be recreated.  Like when my son asked me a few days ago to sit on the potty and grinned as he sat there and grunted, pretending to know what he was doing there.  Instead of sitting him on the potty and walking away, I watched him and giggled at his excitement over something so simple. 

Or the moment last night when my son just wanted to be held and rocked to sleep and, instead of sighing and groaning about how he wasn't going to bed, I decided to quietly pick him up and rock him back and forth in my bed until he was fast asleep in my arms.  And instead of moving him to his bed right away I stared at him for a while, as if to will time to slow down for just a little while.

Or the times my daughter breaks out into spontaneous songs, complete with hand motions, dancing, and hilarious facial expressions.  While I've often been the first to ask her to be quiet in my rush to do a million things around the house, I've determined in the last few weeks to just stop and listen.  I smile and cheer her on and when she finishes I clap as she takes a bow and giggles.

Because I know that one day I will miss these moments.  And these moments are only here now.  I have one childhood to enjoy these little ones before they are grown and raising families of their own.  And I don't want to miss this. 

***

Linking up with Heather of The EO for Tuesday's Just Write, a time set aside to freely write, without editing, whatever is on your mind.

Just Write: Grieving Gluten

When I began this journey of gluten free, dairy free living, I knew it would be hard.  But I didn't expect to feel this weepy about the foods I can no longer enjoy.

Not that we eat out a lot, but now it's nearly impossible.  I can't trust that even if something would be considered gluten free it's not cooked on the same surface as products with gluten or has some sort of hidden gluten in it.

Grocery shopping became a challenge too.  Did you know that the individually frozen boneless skinless chicken breast has gluten in it?  They glaze it with chicken broth and gluten is the thickening agent in chicken broth.

I watched this video yesterday and the doctor said that even a milligram of gluten can be toxic for someone with gluten sensitivity.  One milligram - that's one eighth the size of your fingernail.

I have a feeling if you were to biopsy my stomach lining it wouldn't look pretty.  Because gluten causes the villi to atrophy, or lay flat, preventing your body from getting the nutrients it needs.  It can take a year to heal this, but the damage is reversible.

I started packing for a week away from home to visit my inlaws for Christmas.  I have to pack an entire week's worth of food for myself.  I feel kind of silly explaining it over and over, but I really do have to be careful.  Even a little bit of gluten will cause intense stomach pains that can keep me in bed for days.

I almost started crying in the middle of the grocery store when my husband chastised me for wanting to buy a dozen gluten free organic candy canes for almost $4.  I walked away angry until I finally spilled out the words I was feeling.  "You don't get it.  You can eat whatever you want...but I can't.  All the Christmas cookies, pies, and candies I used to love...I can't eat them anymore.  I can't even eat a candy cane."

He finally looked me in the eyes and said, "If it means that much to you, we can buy those candy canes for you."  It was a little thing, but it meant the world to me.

On Thursday night, we enjoyed a date night thanks to free babysitting offered by the high school girls at our church.  Instead of the usual dinner and a movie away from home, we enjoyed home cooked lobster, quinoa, and sauteed veggies with homemade gluten free, dairy free peppermint chocolate chip ice cream for dessert.  Then we cuddled up on the couch and watched a Redbox movie. 

I enjoy the comforts of home.  I don't like being out of my comfort zone.  Maybe that's why I feel so anxious every time we have to pack up and go somewhere.  Having a date night at home was priceless.

I'm still getting the hang of this gluten free, dairy free lifestyle.  Did you know that 7 out of 10 people have a gluten sensitivity and don't even know it?  Untreated, it can lead to auto immune diseases, the leading cause of death in America.

I sometimes wonder if I do, in fact, have celiacs.  The one blood test came back negative, but that was after almost a month of an almost completely gluten free diet.  In order to test positive, the villi have to be completely atrophied.  But what if the villi are partially atrophied or almost completely atrophied?

Did you know that foods like chocolate, coffee, quinoa, and oats can act like gluten to your body for someone who is super sensitive?  I'm kind of wondering if giving up coffee altogether will cure the remaining stomach pains I've been having.  Or could it be sugar that is cause the remaining pain?  I am so confused.

I can't even remember the last time I had a piece of soft, fluffy bread...or a bowl of macaroni and cheese.  All those comfort foods I used to enjoy...are suddenly toxic to my system.  And the longer I am off of gluten, the more even a little bit of gluten can wreak havoc on my system.  

My goal for the new year: learn to love my gut and take care of it better than I ever have.  Did that sound as weird to you as it did to me?  Maybe if we all loved our guts better than we do now, we'd all be happier and healthier than ever...

***

What I've been reading lately:

dear mom of the little boy with celiac disease

study on gluten sensitivity

IBS caused by gluten sensitivity

gluten sensitivity and IBS

***

Linking up with Heather at The Extraordinary Ordinary for Just Write: The 14th. 

Just Write: Running the Race Well

Photo source: Jennoit

I have so many thoughts running through my head right now and so many things I want to blog about...but how to narrow it down to just one?

This morning, I woke up before the sun, crawled out of bed, and went out in the 20 degree quiet morning to run.  I never thought I'd be that person who wakes up early just to run...or simply that person who runs.

But, the truth is, I love to run.  It's become such a part of me that even when I'm not running I'm thinking about running.

The other night, I started thinking about goals.  Right now, as a mom, my biggest goal is to simply love my kids so they never once doubt they are wanted and cherished and that one day they understand that my love is simply a picture of the love their Heavenly Father has for them.

On the drive home from the other day, my daughter began to ask me questions about God.  She wanted to know where He was and she was hungry for more.  As tears filled my eyes, I began to share with her some of my most precious gifts - the promises and hopes He has given me.  Her three year old mind may not understand yet, but I still want her to know that there is One who loves her even more than I can, enough to send His son to this earth.

In this holiday season of rushing and spending and worrying, I find myself desperate for quiet and peace and a reminder of what this season is all about.  We started doing an advent wreath at home, lighting the candles at dinner each night and reading a devotion.  Seeing that candle lighting our dinner table reminds me of the One who is the Light in the darkness and whose light will never falter or perish.

We put up the Christmas tree last night and my husband danced with the kids to Christmas music in the middle of the living room.  Despite my sour mood that day, I couldn't help but smile and pause to soak up the moment.  Because these simple moments are the sweetest and most precious.

I thought about my goals for running too.  I found a half marathon in September and actually put it on the calendar.  I've been contemplating making that a goal for a while and I finally decided I'm going to do it.  I want to cross that finish line knowing I've run the race well and finished what I set out to accomplish.

Because isn't that what life is about?  Running the race well, so that one day He will be able to say of me, "Well done, good and faithful servant."