{Not As Strong As You Think You Are}

Supermom.

Strong.

Brave.

Capable.

Amazing.

All words people have so generously and kindly offered when they describe me and the way I have handled the past year {plus} navigating the health struggles of our sons Teddy and Will.


I welcomed the kind words, but inside my heart they didn't mesh with the way I truly felt. I didn't feel  all that super, or strong or brave. I felt like I was pushing through, grasping the bare essentials of sanity to make it through each day. I told myself I needed to own those words, to be those things...at least on the outside. I had to keep it together, for my kids, my husband...everyone else.




I needed to be ok. I needed to be strong.


And then I miscarried.


And it wasn't ok.


Any strength I thought I had was emptied out. The mask was off.

In those days after losing our baby, I felt a weakness unlike any I have before. There was absolutely nothing I could do to change what had happened, nothing I could have done to prevent it. A blow I never saw coming.


A reminder of how truly weak we are in our human frames, wearing masks of strength, power, capability.


We see weakness as a fault, a shortcoming and strength as a barrier against all the hurt the world throws at us. And then there are these moments, when your helplessness confronts you...and suddenly you're not as strong as you {or anyone else} thought you were.


And it's ok, to not be strong. Because, He is strong, His power made perfect in our weakness.


"But he said to me, "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." {2 Corinthians 12:9}


I will boast in my weakness, because when I am weak, then I am strong. Not exactly what the world around us says, but in this truth I am resting- I am clinging on to the things that are true, when right now nothing feels ok.


It is not me who is strong, but Christ in me.


Beauty in my mess.


Strength in my weakness.


Hope for the hopeless.

{The Child We Lost: Making Sense of Miscarriage}

A little over month ago I experienced a loss I hoped I would never have to navigate, the loss of our child, one we never got to meet face-to-face.

Miscarriage. A word I have used to describe a loss that is indescribable. A word that has defined the grief and numbness that has coursed through my heart and mind for the last month. How do I mourn a child I carried, but never held? How do I talk about someone I loved so deeply, but never spoke to? It's a loss unlike any I have experienced and at times I find myself so overwhelmed by the complexity and senselessness of it- why, why, why?


It just doesn't make sense. There are no answers. We are left, like so many who lose a loved one, blindly reaching through this darkness, wondering how to move forward, how to live with the not knowing. I think any time you lose someone, the shock and confusion and pain of it all can overwhelm and undertake you. But, then you look at photos, you have memories, you realize that, yes, they really did exist- you have something to grasp on to, even if it feels loose and distant. You have people to share that pain with, the heaviness of the loss, the memories. But, with pregnancy loss, you don't have any of that. Yes, my husband very much feels the depth of our loss, he aches and struggles and wrestles with the whys. But, it's just us. It's isolating and confusing and unbearable at times.


We've been so blessed to have a couple very close friends wrap their arms and prayers around us and family that has stepped in to lighten our burden as well. All of that has held us up and kept us pushing forward in hope. There are not words to describe our thankfulness for them.


A close friend asked me in the midst of my miscarriage, was I mad at God? I thought, that would make sense, but I never once felt that. In the senselessness of it all, I never once questioned or blamed God-and for me, I guess that was my comfort, my hope...that even in the greatness of this loss, my God was still good, still loving and still with me. It was the only thing that DID make sense.


As I wake up morning after morning, finding joy has never been more within my reach. The contrasting pain that aches deep reminds me with a glaring joy to seek out the goodness before me, to hope for and seek out the eternal, lasting things before anything else. To know that I have such a treasure waiting for me in heaven, that is a sweetness unlike any other. While it does't make sense in this life, I have the assurance of a God who is in complete and utter control, who makes sense of the senseless and brings beauty from the mess. One day death will be no more, one day our tears will be dried and we will be together, no more hurt, just the fullness of Love surrounding us. I can't think of anything more valuable and hope filled than that.


I share all of this, because I know miscarriage is a silent pain shared by so many women, and if my story can be healing to one woman out there than it was well worth it. He's with us, in our hurting and in our rejoicing. When nothing makes sense, he remains, solid and eternal and always good.


As I move through this grief, I plan to write and share more and hope that my story will speak to someone. We aren't alone in this senselessness, this water swelling up, the pain threatening to take us under-- we are held up, by each other, by a God who will never let us drown when we reach out to Him.

Much love,

Sarah

{The Gift Of Your Life}

My sweet son, on the day you were born I was certain of so many things. My 4th child, my 4th son, what new things could you bestow upon my veteran mother's heart?

I thought it would feel effortless, simple and that your babyhood would be my chance to masterfully present my aptitude for all things motherhood.

It's funny the ways we can find ourselves humbled. 

Precious Theodore, my gift. A gift I did not deserve or earn simply by all my doing, all my mothering that came before you. Oh, how my soul has been ravaged and spilled out this year, and how the deepest joy has filled so many of the rifts my pride tore open. 

Your first year has been something beautiful. It has written so many new declarations of love upon my heart.

You came into this world as a weak, hurting child. Your body was weak, small, hungry. You and I together, we found grace. I found that even in what I thought was my most capable role I was still so very fragile, very much in need, not able on my own.

My son, we are all so breakable, so weak, so in need of much more than we can toil though on our own. You have tasted the bitterness of that from your very first days, you have known pain, you have felt the ache...and you have tasted the goodness of a God who meets us in our hurt, our weakness, our need.

My prayer over your life is that you would find the most precious gift our human hearts can be offered, the depth of what our souls crave, the joy to which you have been called. Jesus. Yes, He is so deeply and perfectly good. 

Before I loved you, knew you, held you. He did. He is. He will. Always. 

I am so thankful for your life, the gift that it is.

You are loved.

Happy First Birthday, sweet Theodore Donald.

{Handing Over Perfection}

Today I will hand over my beautiful little boy to a surgeon.

I will stand back as they take him out of my view, out of the safety of my arms & let them patch the brokenness of his little body.

The last three months have been filled with a hurt, an ache for how my baby "should" be. I have wrestled with the imperfection of his tiny frame, trying to fix him, to will him into perfection with every ounce of me. How could there be anything wrong with my child that I could not fix?

How can there not be answers? How can I let this be? How can I fix this?

Everyone wants their child to have perfect health, to have a perfectly beautiful life filled with perfect experiences and perfect things. Why would anyone want anything less than the ideal for their child?

There are so many worse things that my child could be going through, much deeper waters with distant shores. I tell myself that so many times, but it doesn't ease the pain. It doesn't take away the yearning for how things should be.

And like a brick wall, I smack face to truth. I remember that I was never promised perfection. I was never promised a child whose body worked perfectly...in this life.

Someday, all things will be made right. Maybe it will be this side of heaven for Teddy, maybe it will not. I do not have the answers, but I do know that God has promised to make all things new. While we struggle with many forms of imperfection, disease, brokenness here, one day all the hurt will be taken away and beauty will rise from our ashes.

Although I wait for the day, yearn for the day when all things will be made right, the fact is I am still here in the muck wrestling with the why and struggling to release my little ideas of perfect.

My child's imperfection is out there in the open for people to see, but he really isn't so different from anyone else. Although his scars, his brokenness are on the outside, he is walking the same path of our shared human condition. We are all hobbling along, some of us hiding our imperfections deep inside, others, like Teddy, wear theirs on the outside where people can ask "what is wrong with your baby?"

Yes, it hurts. Yes, I hate it. But, YES, I have hope.

Is it a mistake that my baby was born this way? No. Although everything about him, about me, about us all is not going the way we planned, it doesn't make any of it a mistake. It doesn't make any of it fair or unfair or make any sense, because in our imperfection we are still fearfully & wonderfully made. We are on purpose.




"I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made;
    your works are wonderful,
    I know that full well." - Psalm 139:14


So, today, I hand over perfection. I hand over my wonderfully made child. I hand over my ideals and my dreams and the way everything "should" be. I let it all rest on Him. I let peace and His promises wash over me and praise Him for the good things He is doing and will do. His works are wonderful, every last detail and "imperfection." May these imperfections bring Him glory with every ounce of us that hobbles or wobbles or shatters. He is more. He is perfect. And one day, we will be too.

{When God Gives You More Than You Can Handle}

You've probably heard the saying, "God will never give you more than you can handle" and it probably came at a time when you felt like your life was swallowing you up whole, when the odds were stacked up against you and deep inside you wondered how you would keep it all together.



Yeah, that is my life. It has been my life for the past 3 years.

Pregnancy & birth of twin boys when my first son was barely 2
Hundreds of miles away from any family
A husband working full time by day and tackling grad school by night.
3 boys 4 and under & one on the way
A very sick child, who was later diagnosed with an autoimmune disorder.
The birth of our 4th son (4 kids 4 & under)
A new career path & adjustment for my husband (many late nights alone)
Months of fear & worry over a baby who wouldn't grow
10 days in the hospital with my 6 month old
Trying to fit a 2nd medically complex child into our crazy life

A story and challenges unique to me, but really, who doesn't have a crap ton of overwhelming stuff going on in their lives?


Guys, I am here to tell you, I have more than I can handle. And it's okay if you do too. You don't have to be supermom/dad, the master of multi-tasking, the keeper of a perfect home, a ladder-climbing achiever at your job, a perfect Christian, flawless friend,  & world dominating machine.


It's ok. We are all pretty weak and scared on the inside, wondering if anyone else can tell.


I can't do it. I can not keep it together on my own. I've worked so hard the past 3 years to keep these exterior walls of strength up around the parts of me that were crumbling on the inside.

I'm embracing my weakness. Embracing the fact that I can't do it all & that it is ok to let other people know that too.


Because, yes, God absolutely gives more than we can handle- every single one of us, whether we want to admit that or not.


It's easy to let our brains fall in the the bottomless pit of distractions at our fingertips, to let our minds be pulled this way & that, to let us forget about the things that ache deep in our souls, to let ourseleves be deceived into thinking the Pinterest dream is just around the corner & that we can get to a place where everything is just right. We can fool our selves pretty easily into thinking every thing is ok, bandaging our wounds for another day, keeping it together for everyone else.


Well, I say, STOP IT!


There isn't a person on this Earth who has it all together, has perfection figured out, has everything under control. Let's all stop pretending & telling each other we don't have more than we can handle. Because we do.

Although this all sounds rather depressing, there is hope. We were never asked to do this on our own. In the midst of our tangled up mess, God calls us to Him, to lay our burdens down, to let them rest on the shoulders of the One who can handle it all.


His yoke is easy & His burden is light.


Thank you Jesus.


Thank you for seeing me in my little, wobbly exterior, holding it all together around my tender soul. Thank you for loving me and letting me crumble and struggle and find You patiently waiting for me to see I needed more of You.


God's strength is made perfect in weakness. He wants our truest selves, he wants our little ragamuffin hearts, our potty mouths & sin stained lives. Because the beauty of God never shines brighter than when it is contrasted and perfected in weakness.


There is so much beauty in the mess. So much hope in the struggle. So much truth under our deception. None of us is really so different from the next, none of us can do it on our own, so let's stop pretending.


Friends, I've got more than I can handle...but, I'm not handling it anymore. And you don't have to either.

{He Already Knows}

It has been months since I have sat down to write, so many things have begun and ended and snuck onto the pages of my days.

A few nights ago, I woke up to the grunting of a hungry baby. The house was quite, except for he and I quietly rocking in the well loved rocker. His long eye lashes fluttered and I prayed to never forget this moment just as it was. 

And then, so gently, as it always is- the feather light whisper of a call to write it all down again, persevere it for the day when my boys can understand and together we can taste and see the goodness that was always with us. 

These are bone weary days. Fear has crept into my home, my heart. Uncertainty and worry threaten my steps daily. As I seek to keep my eyes focused on what is true and lasting, I am comforted by this: 

He already knows.

One of our little men has been fighting a quite, faceless battle in his little body for almost a year- one we can not see or give a name.

We have been blessed beyond measure with doctors who care deeply, refuse to give up and astound me with the depth of their knowledge and skill. But, even they can not call it by name right now. 

At times, the fear, the overwhelming hopeless pricks of the unknown bring me to my knees in worry, the tears burn hot on my cheeks and remind me of how fragile our human bodies are in this broken world. 

And then again,so softly the words brush my thoughts in the loneliness of the wee morning:

He already knows.

When as faulty, broken, arms flailing humans we search desperate for an answer, there is One greater than us, than this darkness creeping in, who knows. He sees the places we have not yet ventured. He knows us, created us bit by bit, and nothing is lost to Him. 

He knows, He knows, He knows...

As I press on into this new day, there is renewed hope, there is comfort in knowing that as we wonder through these dark days He sees us, He knows us, He gave himself for us so that even when we walk through the valley we can fear no evil. We rest in the promise that when every thing feels broken, we are safe in His arms.

Though our bodies may fail us, we know there is more. There is nothing that can separate us from His Love, the eternal parts of us can never be taken. Fear can not find us there, sickness can not taint that part of us, we are more, we are His. 

We are known and always have been, intimately by the One who sees and know it all- and loves us still. 

{4 Years}

Tomorrow my sweet boy, the one who made me "Mama" turns 4 years old. How is that possible?! 

My heart aches to see my baby become so grown up, but at the same time brims with joy at the sweet young man he is becoming every day. 

I knew motherhood would shake my heart and soul up in so many ways, but I never expected the intensity and depth of it all. 

It has brought out every fault and weakness in me and amplified it, but has also shown me a strength and love I never knew I was capable of.

Oh, sweet Judah. I love you more than you will ever know, you are an extension of me and an entire new world I don't understand- you are beauty and hope and genuine unrefined life, a sweet reflection of all that really matters in this life. 

On the day you were born you brought not just a new title to my name, but a new life and a new meaning. My life was no longer about me, it was a daily giving of self, a sacrifice and a call to be more than comfortable. 

You are a gift, my greatest calling, my sweet son who I will always put before  myself. You are precious and treasured, you are worth fighting for and worth every  single dream and desire I have given up to be your Mama. You are loved. 

Happy Birthday, my sweet, joy seeking, strong son- May you seek The Lord with all your heart, serve the weak, love deeply and find joy in every season of your life. I love you. 

{un-pinterestly perfect}

If you walked into our house today {or pretty much any day lately} you would be pleasantly {or unpleasantly} surprised.

There is nothing perfect or put together about our home or life right now.

We have a dishwasher that seems to be constantly filled with clean dishes awaiting a long, angry line of hard-crusted on food smeared dishes and utensils on the counter. The kitchen floor is {thankfully} dark colored stone, so you will never be shocked by how truly dirty it is. And please, if you don't mind, don't peek in the oven, ok? The poor thing smokes up every time we fire it up for another frozen pizza.

When you make your way through the dining room/pile everything here room your eyes will be overwhelmed by the broken pieces of crayons, unfinished art projects and random piles of my eBay sales that cover at least half the table.

And if you make it past all of that, the living room and toy room will swallow you whole :) The Christmas tree is currently the pinnacle of both of these rooms, bent limbs, broken ornaments and goofy tilt- it really is a sight to behold. Definetly not something I would pin on pinterest for your inspiration ;) But, it is perfect for our ragamuffin family.

For a long time I have used the imperfections of our home as reasons to not have a friend over or as an excuse to stay home and "pick up." But, if I keep using that one it will make for a very lonely next few years ;)

And it's not just the imperfections of my home, but those insecurities of how that defines me. If my home is not always clean, decorations not perfect and updated, furniture free of stains....what does that say about the kind of mom or person I am? Well, truthfully not much.

And I forget that. I forget that none of that matters and that looking beyond the imperfections and the messes in life is how you connect. It's real. It's in the mess and the hard stuff that life blooms. Life happens in our house, non-stop.

And all that description above is proof. It says raising kids is tough, it is all consuming and comes before everything else. It says, hey look, my life is just like yours. I can not keep up with the laundry, the cleaning, the looking fashionable and give my all to my kids. I can not keep my life and lay it down for another, it just doesn't work like that. Where there is a give, there is a take. Where there is imperfection, there is beauty.

My life will never be Pinterest perfect, and I'm okay with that. I'll take the real life mess over the false cover of perfection any day.

So, come on over, but watch where you step ;)

Invite someone over today, be spontaneous and forget about what "needs" to get done first- I promise you the gift of sharing your life "as is" will always outweigh any momentary "oohs and ahhs" over how clean or beautiful your home is.

{the winter blues}

A combination of the insanely cold Wisconsin weather & the little babe brewin' in the womb has turned me into some kind of hermit.

It was Wedneaday morning when I looked at my kids who were bouncing off the walls and going on their fourth day in pj all day mode that I realized an extreme case of winter blues had already set in.

Yuck. 

There are so many things I love about winter, but every year I seem to settle into an anti social mid winter slump. This year it consumed me much earlier and somewhat by surprise. The long days of pregnancy nausea had worn me down sooner than usual... And my poor kids had been dragged down with me.

I examined the mess that was our house...a sippy cup bomb trap, crusty banana goo on the rug, abandoned mini socks and enough toys to choke an elephant. Normally, I would use this mess as an excuse to not leave the house, but today I knew I had to leave it to it's own issues and get OUT and into the world despite feeling like the most sea sick ship mate of them all.

The kids eyes lit up like heaven had come to earth when I told them we were going grocery shopping. They were more than happy to get out of their footie jammies and into the last clean pair of clothes to their name ( did I mention we seriously have a mountain of laundry that nearly reaches the tips of my ears?!) No one even fussed at the act of getting strapped into their car seats, you know they have not left the house in ages when this happens.... Or when your three year old says "mom, we are the pirates who don't go anywhere!" Every five minutes while playing all day "ships and pirates."

As I cruised down the highway into the bustling city of Madiosn I started to question my sanity....was it really a good idea to take my 1 yr old twins and 3 yr old shopping by myself?! And as I pulled into the parking lot of the Co Op my hands started to sweat. I will say the act of getting everyone into the store was nothing short of miraculous, I will spare you to gorey details.

Once in the crowed, narrow isles of the Co Op, with one kid strapped to me, one in the cart and one wondering around willy-nilly I realized this could go either really well or really wrong. It was amazing how many wide eyed looks I got, how many people parted the way as we passed, and how much compassion was poured out on me with a few simple smiles and the picking up of produce that my children hurled. Being back out in the world of the living was like a big hug.

After we finished our assault on the isles of the grocery store we settled in to the cute little cafe area complete with a kids play area. We parked out there for nearly an hour. Even when tragedy seemed to have struck in the moment Judah announced he had to "pop turds"- a kind older lady offered to keep an eye on my massive mounds of grocerys and stuff so I could corral all three kids to the bathroom without causing obscene amounts of chaos. 

And that is how something as simple and terrifying as going to the grocery store mended my winter heart. If a case of the winter blues has already set in for you and it just feels easier to stay home, GET OUT! Get out and remind yourself that even in these cold days there is warmth in the company of even complete strangers. Life is moving and going despite the bleakness of the earth right now. It doesn't take much to refresh your soul in something simple and every day.

{And Baby Makes....6?!?!}

Turns out we like being tired, crazy exhausted and tested to our level of sanity ;) Yup, baby number 4 will be showing up on the scene sometime around July 9th ( which just so happens to be my best buds birthday!)

If you do the math right, that will leave us with 4 kids 4 and under in the blazing summer heat this summer :) That is one scenario I never imagined, but I think we are up for the job....

If you wondered or noticed I have been missing from the internet world lately, it is because our new little bean has been making me feel not so great. But, thankfully I think we are on the up swing of feeling yucky :) 

Oy, pregnancy can be beasty, but I believe ( based on past experieces) that it is worth it in 1000 bouts of nausea, headaches and general uncomfortableness :) I have been trying not to complain too much, but my dear husband has been very sweet and let me whine a fair amount. What a man.

The boys are beyond thrilled and Judah has already chosen the beautiful, gender neutral name of Rocket Johson for the babe to be. So sweet. And little Will has been marching around the house with his baby doll in his backpack for days. Ry on the other hand is not so sure he wants to share his mama yet, he keeps saying to my  tummy " no baby." Hahah! 

And yes, I know you are thinking " I bet you are hoping this one is a girl!"- but, no I  am actually terrified of a girl. What do you do with a daughter?! I have no clue. I forgot how to play girly stuff in all these years of trucks and smashing things. Whatever we have will be awesome and challenging in it's own way....can you imagine four boys under four?! This is shaping up to be terrifying whichever way you look at it :)

A few pictures of our lil' kumquat ( baby's size fruit equivalency right now!)

{Choosing Joy}

I've been in a funk the past week, just feeling generally overwhelmed and grumpy and sorry for myself.

It's a kind of slow fade for me-one day I am pushing through the exhaustion and the next I give in just once to feeling "sorry" for myself and it is all down hill from there.

Day by day I let go of the sweet, simple joys that have kept me going and instead choose to let the negatives define my mood. And eventually I find myself here, feeling like staying in my pajamas all day and not getting out in the big, beautiful world where it's hard.

Being joyful, it's a choice. A choice that needs to be made new every day. 

Choosing the good thing usually means choosing the hard thing, the thing that goes against our very own selfish inner drive. 

Choosing joy usually means choosing others before me.

Choosing joy means giving of yourself when you feel like you have nothing left to give.

It means starting over again and giving yourself grace- new every day.

It is always a choice.

I forget that so often, that despite what is happening around me, I get to choose my response and my attitude.

My husband is such a strength for me in this- he wakes up every day choosing joy and choosing to see today as the gift that it is. He is so paitent with me in my wavering joy, helping me every year gain perspective on what it is we are doing here in this crazy, beautiful life.

Today, I choose joy and by grace I will again tomorrow.

It's a choice that will over time define my life story & inspire my children to do the same. 

{Our beautiful family photos were taken by the very talented Jessica of More Than Just Pictures}

{On being busy}

Life is busy for us, to say the least.

We have 3 kids 3 and under.

My husband works full time plus and is in grad school full time.

We live 3 hours away from any family and any regular help.

We are generally overwhelmed and stressed out.

Yeah- our life falls under the busy catagegory ;)

But, so does yours, right?

You have your own stuff going on, you are busy, but in other ways {or maybe the same- if so, we should be friends, haha}

It's funny, because I look at my friends that don't have kids {or have less kids, or have kids that are grown and gone} and they are just as frazled as myself on the day-to-day. But, then I remember my "former" life before the kids or before the husband and remember how busy my life felt then.

Life occupies us. It keeps us on the move. In a time with so much {constant} visual stimulation {TV, Social Media, Internet, ect} we are seldom "alone" or unamused. There are always demands on our time, our attention, our minds.

We are busy.

Even though my kids and family do demand much of my attention and time, there is still a fair amount left over that I chose to fill with my own busyness. 

Yep, busyness that I choose. 

And that is where the excuses come in, in my own busyness. 

When I say I am too busy for a friend or quite time, there is most likely some of my own personal busyness that I could set aside and give instead.

For me, right now, I am actively trying to evaulate my busyness and see where I can choose relationships first, because we are all busy, but sometimes it is a matter of prioitizing the things that matter, the things that are lasting over the things that are fleeting.

What keeps you busy? 

{when they are driving you crazy}

I love my kids an insane amount, but there are some moments that leave me feeling like I have been abducted by three little cavemen- and that maybe I may be about to be pushing the SOS button. 

Yep. Some days my kids drive me crazy :)

To be a mom (or dad) is to be needed. 

Constantly .

"Can I have a snack?"

"More Elmo?"

"I want to play another game of Candyland!"

"Take me to the park!"

The requests, they never cease. They follow you to the bathroom, keep you from feeding yourself, getting any rest or just generally acknowledging your own existence or needs.

It can drive you crazy.

Naturally we want to think of ourselves first, put our own needs before anyone else. It's just not natural to put other people before you- being a parent, it's not natural.

I know that sounds strange, but I think it is really freeing to know that it is okay that I don't always have it together or that I don't always love every moment of the selfless act of being a parent. And that honestly, it feels like something I am learning daily, it is not something I have mastered or ever will.

It is hard. It wears on your sanity and tests you in ways you never have before.

And on top of it all, we are expected to have it together before the world and God. 

But, yeah, that is never what was asked of us. We weren't asked to be perfect or together or always loving the hard stuff.

It's okay to feel like your kids are driving you crazy. It's okay to feel like you are failing or that everything is a mess because it reminds us that we too are needy and that we have a Father who will always be there to get us through, because He is perfect and his well never runs dry. The weight is off our shoulders at that point.

We are free to be the best imperfect, crazy out of our mind parents- honest and real before our kids and honestly loving them the best possible way by leaning onto a strength beyond us, so that they learn to do the same.

So, all you stressed out, crazy parents know that you are beautiful in your imperfection, in your trying and your failing and your endless giving. You have a God that has your back in this.

{my boys}

It has been a long week and I am thankful for my sweet boys who have kept me pushing through these tough days.

All I have to share today is simply a few pictures of how they make my heart happy :)

Walks to the park have been our number one excursion this week.

Judah finding a leaf in his "most best color"

Taking in the beautiful {early} morning and spotting a King Fisher

Melt my heart.

Big brothers are the best.

Sweet snuggles from Ry make even the longest week better.

{Content}

To be content.

Isn't it what we are all seeking? To be comfortable, happy, in a place where everything feels right.

When we think of being content we often associate it with happiness. To be content is to be happy.

But what does it really mean to be happy? It's a question that has been worked over and over in many different ways- with many different answers.

Why? Because happiness isn't one state, it is a spectrum of emotions ranging from simply being satisfied to being filled with intense joy.

 I think when we pursue happiness, we are pursuing that intense joy at the end of the spectrum, not just that mediocre happiness of the "day to day." 

We want the intensity of joy in the every day, but most of the time we are left in the inbetween.

The problem comes in when we seek our contentment in things and accomplishments and not in our souls.

Stuff never leads to that intense joy, it always lets us down...and so do our acclaims and pursuits of self- the happiness is temporary, it fades and leaves us hungry for more- for a joy that runs deep in our souls and doesn't die with the fleeting moment.

Our contentment, out deepest joy lies outside of us, it is not from us, but it is freely given for us- not of our own hands or anything we deserve or coud possibly earn.

A gift of joy so intense that we no longer need to keep pursuing it on our own strength, but we can simply rest in knowing that because we have this joy, nothing can separate or take us from it. 

Our joy is complete and contentment will find us no matter our present circumstances- we ask, we receive and joy meets us there.

I would love to share more with anyone interested in the source of my joy. 

Have a blessed Thuraday, friends!

{in my shadow}

We were walking home from the library, me pushing the double stroller and Judah walking slowly behind me.

He is usually a pretty fast paced walker, but for some reason today he was pokey and hovering just beyond the edge of my patience.

I would stop, look back and wait. And he would stop, look at me and wait.

It was nearing nap time and meltdowns.

"Come on bud, let's keep moving."

Nothing.

Frustrated, I pushed forward as the babies {er, toddlers} started to protest the prolonged mac n' cheese date that awaited them at home.

I glanced back and there he was, puttering along.

"Mom" he yelled "I'm just trying to stay in your shadow!"

I looked closely and sure enough he was trying with every ounce of his precision to stay perfectly in my shadow, right on my head.

And there it was, another one of those moments that seems so surface level, but really goes much deeper.

My little son, he just wanted to stay in my shadow- to do exactly as I was doing at that moment.

Just like he is always doing- following me, asking to load the washing machine with me or read his Bible while I read mine, always one step behind me watching, observing and learning in my shadow.

At times, my little shadow mate can make the task at hand twice as much work, but today was a little reminder of how very important it is to let him just simply be in my shadow as he navigates this big, complicated world.

It was a moment of realizing {again} what a precious gift he is and what a privilege it is to be his mother and shadow maker.

{when you feel like you are failing}

The valleys-I think we can all say we have had some in our lifetime. Maybe you are in one right now. Maybe you just came out of one-and you're stronger, but the sting of that experience has changed you, you're not the same. You messed up, you failed-but, it's not over.

It's those valleys, those low spots where life can feel stagnant and dark, where you ask yourself what it is you are doing and does it mean anything? 

Those moments when you feel like you are failing at life.

It's realizing at 30 that maybe what you went to college for and have worked at for the last 7 or 8 years isn't resonating with who you are.

It's the waking up in the night and looking around at your life and nothing is what you planned or thought it would be---it's the getting up in the morning and feeling like there has to be something more than this.

It's those moments when you compare the work of your hands to the work of everyone else and wonder how yours could ever matter or if anyone will ever notice. It's the years of investing your heart into something and still not seeing the fruit.

It's the secret fear in all of our hearts.

It's the knowing we only get one shot at this life and somehow we keep messing it up-the valleys, they keep coming.

There is not a person on this planet who, to their very core, in the back of their minds doesn't feel like they have failed in some way or another.

Failure feels like weakness & who wants to admit they are weak, that they need something more than their own strength to get through?

Who wants to admit that maybe we don't always get it right?

Not me.

Isn't that why we look so strong? Why that other mom at the park looks so put together, but when she gets home she falls apart. Or why your coworker seems to always be one step ahead, but everything else in their life is one step behind. 

We can't do it all, we can't give here and not fail there. 

So, friend if today you are in a low place, if it feels like you are failing where it matters most, it's okay.

You're not supposed to get it right, you're not supposed to do this alone or "keep it together" or be that person we all want to be---because even that person feels like you, they are failing too.

Those moments of failure, those valleys-that's real, that's life, that's our souls remembering that this is not our home---that this life, it's not all there is. 

Those moments do not own you or define you--they change you and if you are putting your hope in something more, they bring you closer to that something more. 

And friend, if you do not know that feeling of hope, I pray you do one day soon---that you could stop relying on your own strength and drowning in your weakness, but instead find a hope that will carry you.

{Late Night Waiting}

With Andrew working full time and in Grad School, Judah and I find ourselves with many mid-week late nights together up waiting for Andrew to come home.

Andrew is Judah's best bud and he can absolutely not end his day without seeing his daddy. And I don't fight it because it means something, their relationship is more important than a consistent bedtime right now.

And so I find myself doing a lot of late night waiting with my 3 year old which consist of:

Lots of games of Candy Land

Lots of snugly book reading (our library checkout list is currently at 115 books!)

Busy bag activities (planning a post on these soon, I made about 40 last month and they have been so great for keeping Judah entertained)

Movie watching (our current favorite is anything Charlie Brown) you can see by his face that we are nearing the end of our late night waiting ;)

On these late nights of waiting something special is happening, in the waiting we are making memories together, just a boy and his mama waiting for their favorite person in the world to come home. I love it. Although this is a tough season in our life, we are finding joy in the waiting. 

And the waiting is so worth it...

Our joy is complete :)

{simple joys}

With three kids 3 and under doing much of anything can seem overwhelming.

Many days the kids and I do not venture out farther than our own backyard. On a particularly rough day we are lucky to make it out of the play room.

Those days when we do not get out can feel like such big motherhood fails.

Based on Pinterest and some gorgeous mama blogs a "good" mom at least gets her kids to daily adventures at the library or the zoo or some play date. 

But, to the kids it is really just a matter of is mom with us? Yes, ok that's enough for me. To them, it's the simple stuff, the simple joys that come from just being together.

They don't care how much time went into your perfectly plotted craft project or educational zoo trip. Nope, just having you is enough, everything else is just fluff.

Instant oatmeal breakfasts.

Backyard sand box digging.

Early morning snuggles.

Reading the same book 10 times.

Tree climbing.

Lego building.

The simple joys make kids happy.

So, sweet, tired mama don't worry if today or this week you don't get much farther than your own backyard. It's enough, you are enough. 

You have nothing to prove, you are loved and needed and the giving of yourself is all they need today, every day.